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say-al0e · 1 year

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Sleep Tight

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Jake Seresin knows he’s a good pilot. But what happens when skill and luck run out and you find your husband in the hospital for the first time. | Ft. Anon Request: “Should I stop talking?” “Please don’t. Your voice is… comforting. I’ve missed it.” + “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Warnings: Jake gets in an accident, hospitals, anxiety, questioning mortality, v knows nothing about medicine or Navy protocol, hurt/comfort, Dagger Squad is family; anything else, let me know and I’ll tag it.

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k (Look, I see a pretty blonde southern man and I blackout. It is what it is.)

Hospitals had always been a source of - understandable - anxiety.

In your experience, nothing good ever happened in hospitals. It was where you were taken as a teenager, in desperate need of stitches after a schoolyard mishap; where your mother was taken when you were only seventeen, confined to a hospital bed after a particularly nasty car accident; where your brother was taken, face and uniform stained red after a football accident nearly took his eye.

The hallways were always too bright, the harsh scent of disinfectant always too strong, and certain sections rivaled only a library in terms of quiet. Getting the scent out of your nose, out of your clothes and off your skin, seemed next to impossible and the beeping of far off machines rang in your ears long after leaving. But, as life went on, you were fortunate enough to avoid hospitals, for the most part.

There was always a chance that would change upon meeting - and falling in love with - a Navy pilot. Every mission Jake went on, every training exercise he flew was a trip to the hospital in the making but he was too good for that. Human error or natural disaster, technical failure or birdstrike, freak accident or routine incident; Jake Seresin trusted himself and his skills enough for the both of you.

Once, early on in your relationship - not long after you realized it was love that kept you coming back to him, not just an appreciation for his pretty face - Jake grinned at your obvious but unspoken worry as he prepared for a mission. “I’m damn good at what I do, sweets,” he assured you, warm hands cupping your cheeks as he searched your eyes. “The best of the best. Don’t you worry about me.”

While you valued his trust and belief in his own abilities, Jake knew you still worried simply because you loved him. He appreciated it - told you once, in the darkness of your shared bedroom not long after you moved in together - but promised he would continue to do everything in his power to make it home to you. Regardless of how good he was, your worry only ceased when he stepped foot through your front door.

Jake himself worried, you knew that, though he buried it deep beneath a layer of bravado to keep from impacting him flying. Neither of you spoke of it and, really, you wouldn’t have known had you not fallen so ridiculously in love with him. Instead, you simply smiled and shook your head fondly as he paraded around, loud and proud.

The only thing you could do was hope beyond hope that he was right. However, hope only lasts so long.

A phone call from Javy was, usually, a good thing. More often than not, it was at Jake’s expense - tattling on something your husband did or said that would earn him an eye roll and an unimpressed look, poking fun at a mistake Jake made or a faux pas he committed, or, most recently, relaying the reason Hangman continued to draw the ire of other Naval officers.

Other calls were excited, bright declarations that he’d been sent something wonderful from home. You both shared an affinity for the chicory coffee his mother sent from New Orleans and, if asked, you never hesitated to help him whip up a batch of beignets to accompany it.

But you knew the moment the phone rang that it wasn’t a call you ever wanted to receive.

For nearly a week, a nagging, anxious feeling plagued you. Jake attempted to explain it away, reminded you that the holidays had rattled your nerves and you were simply stressed by the amount of work you’d returned to. There was an ever-growing to-do list pinned to the fridge and not enough hours in the day so you agreed, brushed it off and redirected your thoughts any time they veered into dimly lit territory, but it didn’t help much. And though Jake was destined to spend his first real week as a Top Gun instructor in a classroom, you made yourself feel just a little better by urging him to be careful, anyway.

That anxiety proved necessary when, instead of returning your greeting, Javy quietly informed you, “Jake’s in the hospital. I’ll meet you out front.”

As the words registered, the world seemed to fade around you. Whatever else he said - if anything at all - dissolved into a high-pitched ringing, lost to the ether, as “Jake’s in the hospital,” played on a loop.

For a long moment, you stood frozen. It felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head, chilling you to the bone as every horrible scenario you’d ever imagined and quickly brushed away suddenly became a reality. Dread filled the pit of your stomach as a weight settled on your chest, compressing until you feared your lungs might give, and your hands shook as you reached for you keys.

Try as you might to tell yourself that whatever landed Jake in the hospital likely wasn’t as serious as you were fearing, you knew that wasn’t the case. If it was simple - a few stitches, maybe an x-ray, possibly even another concussion - there was a good chance you wouldn’t have been notified until someone (likely Javy) drove him home.

With those thoughts plaguing you, everything between Javy’s phone call and your arrival at the hospital melded into a blur of trees and afternoon sun.

The hospital itself wasn’t that far from your new home, thankfully, but it was a miracle you made it in tact as the only thing on your mind was Jake. Javy himself likely didn’t know much and likely wasn’t supposed to be the one to call, however, you were grateful he had. Knowing that he was waiting for you, just as concerned about your husband, made the thought of stepping foot into the hospital just a little more tolerable.

True to his word, Javy waited near the entrance when you arrived. Seeing him stood there, worry crystal clear - obvious in the way he blinked just a little too fast, stood with slumped shoulders and furrowed brows as he folded his arms across his chest and tapped usually still fingers against his bicep - and only seeming to worsen as you rushed across the parking lot to meet him made catching your breath that much harder.

Seeing how shaken Javy was - usually so light and strong - made you feel as if you’d just run a marathon. Every step felt like a monumental task, each more difficult than the last, and your heart thumped so loud you worried everyone could hear. Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes, clumped in your throat and threatened to choke you, but you refused to break down when you still weren’t sure what you were walking in to.

“They won’t tell us anything yet,” he explained, forgoing any niceties as he ushered you inside. His voice was rough, quiet and solemn as he steered you down a long hallway, and you could feel the bile creeping up the back of your throat as he spared you a sidelong glance.

No one bothered to question you with Javy at your side. With his jaw set and shoulders squared, determined to keep himself composed (at least in part for your sake), you were thankful for his presence as he guided you through the brightly lit halls. In that moment, you were half-certain you would still be frozen in the middle of your kitchen had he not promised to be waiting, especially as he pushed open the door to the intensive care unit.

The weight pressing on your chest returned full force, heavier than before, as you realized where you were heading. Remaining upright took a concerted effort and, though he kept his distance, you could see Javy tense by your side, just in case.

Before you, a group of pilots - still dressed in flight suits, in various states of dishevelment after a day of work - crowded a doctor who looked more exasperated than anything. They filled the waiting room that was, mercifully, otherwise empty and you were unsurprised to see them. Though he hadn’t been back at Top Gun very long, Jake had finally found himself amongst friends and, like you, they all wanted answers.

Still, the doctor seemed reluctant to give them anything more than a stern look.

“Look,” he began, tone firm but not unkind, “I’m sorry. I understand your frustration but I cannot release any information at this time. Lieutenant Seresin’s commander or family can share information about his condition if they so choose.” It was as if he’d already repeated those exact words a thousand times over - which, based on all Jake had told you about the group, you assumed he had.

Jake could be personable when he chose, friendly and bright, but he’d never been the type to make friends easily in his line of work - especially with those he saw as competition, once upon a time. Since returning to Top Gun, however, the group of pilots had become something of a second family and you were grateful he’d managed to find a sense of belonging. It was clear that they cared about him deeply, despite their rocky start, and that made catching your breath just a little easier.

Though the tension grew more palpable the closer you stepped, there was no hesitation as you rounded the group to approach the doctor. None of them paid you any mind until you cleared your throat. “I’m his wife,” you announced, voice cutting through the aggravated chatter of the pilots as they continued to demand an answer.

In a split second, the group fell silent. Every set of eyes fell to you, all but two widening at your declaration, as Javy nudged a pair of pilots to the side to give you space. Their gazes burned into your skin, warmed your cheeks and would’ve been enough to send you stumbling under any other circumstances, but you paid them no mind.

With a shaking hand, you reached forward and introduced yourself to the doctor. From the corner of your eye, you could see the confusion written across every face as the group shared glances while the doctor scanned the file in his hand. You knew what was running through their minds but the questions could wait as you willed the doctor to speak.

“Mrs. Seresin,” he finally greeted, taking the hand you offered with a terse nod. “If you’ll come with me, I can give you an update on your husband’s condition.”

Javy remained close, gaze trained solely on you as you shook your head and folded your arms over your chest. “I’m just going to repeat everything you tell me,” you informed him, willing your voice not to shake. “Might as well say it here, that way I don’t leave anything out.”

Though it was clear he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the doctor nodded once more and began to explain Jake’s condition.

Most of the terminology went over your head, entered one ear and flew out the other, but you dutifully nodded along as he explained the steps they’d already taken to counteract the injuries he’d sustained. Javy hadn’t elaborated on what happened - and you weren’t sure you wanted to know - but the severity was made clear as you pieced together what little you could understand.

The doctor made it clear that Jake was lucky - he would claim skilled - to have made it and you could feel your knees growing weak as he explained that Jake was still in triage. The sting of your nails pressing into your forearm kept you tethered to the moment and inhaled slowly through your nose to keep your breathing even as he concluded.

“We’re going to keep Lieutenant Seresin sedated for now, until the swelling on his brain begins to go down, and then allow him to wake on his own. When he’s transferred to a room, you’ll be allowed to visit. Until then, you can wait out here,” he offered, gesturing to the empty lobby. “You’ll be notified the moment you can see him.”

With that, the doctor offered one more terse nod before turning to disappear through a door marked ‘staff only.’

For a long moment, the waiting room remained silent. There was a sharp ringing in your ears, drowning out the all too heavy thump of your heart, and you wondered if your breathing sounded as ragged as it felt. In the back of your mind, you were aware of the attention on you - the sets of eyes studying you for answers to a question no one knew existed - but the only set of eyes that you could meet belonged to Javy.

“You okay?”

The answer was no - he knew that, and wasn’t either, judging by the set of his jaw and the glassy sheen to his eyes - but neither of you were willing to admit it aloud. He was a solider, strong and tough, and you refused to play the part of weeping partner when you needed to believe that Jake would be alright. Strength mattered in that moment, composure in the face of tragedy, so you nodded.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, voice quiet but stronger than you hoped it would be. It was clear he didn’t believe you - no one would - but he didn’t question it. Instead, he returned your nod with one of his own and waited as you turned your attention to the group of pilots staring with uncertain frowns.

Javy took the initiative to introduce you, though it did little to answer the question on the tip of every tongue. Neither of you elaborated beyond your name and relationship with Jake and you could see that there were at least a dozen questions each of them wanted to ask. There was a quiet confusion, a bewilderment that would’ve made you laugh under different circumstances, even as they all politely agreed that it was nice to meet you.

If all had gone according to plan, Jake would’ve made the introduction himself and you would’ve smiled at their bewilderment as you stood with a strong arm tossed around your shoulders. There would’ve been an amused declaration that you hadn’t intended to keep your marriage a secret, an explanation that their friendship hadn’t existed when you wed and no one had questioned his relationship status since he returned.

Work had kept you in Lemoore a little longer than Jake, as had dealing with the last of the paperwork necessary to sell your home, and you’d jumped headfirst into a new position that kept you busier than you would’ve liked the moment you arrived in San Diego. You’d planned to visit the Hard Deck, join the fun and meet his friends, there just hadn’t been time.

Regret, bitter and biting, lingered in the back of your throat the moment you considered time. There were so many things you’d intended to do, so many plans you’d made with Jake, that had been delayed by the excuse of never having enough time. You were both focused on your respective careers - Jake, determined to make it to admiral someday; you, eager to follow your dreams - and never stopped to consider what might happen when time eventually ran out altogether.

Though Jake faced death relatively often - more often than the average person, certainly - the thought never really crossed your mind. Losing him was a fear that lingered, buried deep lest it immobilize you each time he set out for a flight, but it never felt like something that could become reality. Jake himself instilled that belief in you, urged you not to worry despite the circumstances he faced daily, and you’d clung tight to it.

Jake was too lucky, too confident, too good to die.

There’d always been all the time in the world, another day just around the corner, and the reality of the situation felt like a slap to the face as it suddenly dawned on you. There might never be another moment, might never be another day. All the plans you’d put off, all the plans you made; suddenly, there was a chance they would never come to fruition.

As the realization sank in, you could feel your knees growing weaker. The edges of your vision began to white and the bile crept higher and higher in your throat. Breathing was a chore, more and more difficult with every second that passed, and you were only vaguely aware of the hand at your elbow tugging you in the direction of uncomfortable wooden chairs.

Time passed slowly the moment you sat, crept by in a muddled mess of ticking clocks and faraway voices. The other pilots remained for a while, all scattered around the room and talking softly amongst themselves, but Javy remained at your side long after they’d gone.

The waiting room itself remained empty, devoid of others sharing your nauseating worry, and you couldn��t decide if you appreciated the quiet or not.

For the most part, Javy remained quiet but steadfast in his observation of you. Every so often, he stood and returned with bottles of water and nearly stale packets of Oreos from the vending machine down the hall that neither of you ate but he figured might come in handy. It was only a matter of time before he was forced to leave, you knew that, but you held tight to the comfort his presence brought as you struggled to keep your thoughts from wandering.

There was no use dwelling on the past. Nothing good would come of regret, of thinking of the time you’d wasted holding off on taking this trip or going on that date, so you forced yourself to think of the future. Jake was lucky, he was good, he would make it and there would be time to atone for the sins of the past.

Still, even the most optimistic thoughts were plagued with the whisper of ‘what-if’ that now lingered all too prominently in the back of every thought.

Eventually, after nearly three hours of anxiety-inducing, nauseating waiting, Jake was settled into a room. When a nurse retrieved you, she informed you that visiting hours would start soon and that Javy wouldn’t be allowed in until they did. You, however, were given a few moments alone with Jake.

Wandering down the hall behind her, close but far enough to keep her from hearing your ragged breathing, nearly sent you into an anxiety attack. Jake would be sedated, that much you knew, but everything else remained a mystery. Would there be bruising? Had he needed stitches? Would you even be able to recognize him?

Each question hurt more than the last and, when the nurse stopped in front of Jake’s room, you could tell she wasn’t surprised by your hesitation. “We’re optimistic,” she shared, voice a mere whisper in the quiet of the hall. “Lieutenant Seresin is a fighter.”

There was no doubt that Jake would do all he could to pull through - she was right, he was a fighter - but her soft encouragement did little to calm the churning of your stomach, even as you nodded. There would be no calm until he woke, a fact she likely knew as well as you did, so you swallowed your fear and stepped into his room.

Seeing your husband, usually so bright and boisterous with a seemingly permanent grin etched across his face, lying lifeless in a hospital bed was devastating. He looked frail, pale and bruised, and the tears you’d been narrowly keeping at bay began to fall as you took in the sight of him.

A gash, held together by stitches, ran from temple to forehead. A bruise, still fresh, was beginning to blossom along his jawline. The beginnings of a black eye were noticeable, as was a busted lip, and a handful of other scrapes and bruises along his neck and arms. The doctor mentioned a cracked rib and the need to monitor for internal bleeding and you lifted a hand to cover your mouth in an effort to muffle your sobs.

For nearly an hour, you sat in the small chair at Jake’s side and allowed yourself to feel the hurricane of emotions raging in your mind. Fear, regret, anxiety, anger, sorrow; each one was more powerful than the last and each one hurt worse. There was no estimate of when Jake would wake - if he woke at all - but you did your best not to dwell.

Jake was strong, he would make it. And maybe if you repeated that enough times, it would be true.

The only thing that kept you from losing yourself completely to worry was the arrival of visitors.

Javy was, of course, the first to arrive.

Though you offered to give him a moment alone, he refused. He insisted you remain in the seat you’d made your own and, instead, offered you the duffle bag he’d retrieved from your home. Anything you could’ve needed - or wanted - was placed neatly inside.

Pajamas - both yours and Jake’s, pieces of his he knew either of you would love - and a small bag of toiletries, the cell phone you’d dropped the moment Javy ended the call and forgot about, a few personal items; the sight of it all made your eyes sting with another wave of tears and Javy accepted the grateful squeeze of your hand with a nod.

For a few moments, the pair of you sat in silence. Like you, Javy seemed unable to look at Jake for too long without getting overwhelmed and you imagined the rest of the squad would likely endure the same difficulty. He was the first - as far as you knew - to experience such a serious accident and, though you wished like hell it hadn’t been him, you hoped no one else would follow.

Somewhere amidst the beeping of the heart monitor, the far-off hum of voices, Javy turned to you. “I promised him if anything happened, I’d be there for you,” he confessed, voice rough with emotion. His eyes, like yours, were swollen and rimmed red. The promise was likely one he’d made when deployed, uttered in the heat of battle, but you could tell he’d taken it seriously as he spared Jake a glance. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

There wasn’t much you could say that could adequately convey your gratitude - both at him treating you like family and him loving Jake like a brother - so you squeezed his hand once more. In that moment, in that circumstance, that was enough.

Later, when Javy needed to return to Top Gun for a debriefing, Fanboy arrived and replaced him in the seat to your left.

Mickey - you’d come to learn his name the moment he sat down, uttered in an outburst of nervous energy that saw Javy shaking his head upon exiting the room - offered you a smile. He seemed to have no idea what to say, at a loss for words as he spared glances at Jake and blinked back a frown of worry, and you imagined silence wasn’t as comfortable for him as it had been for you. There was a chance he didn’t want to offend you, unsure of what was appropriate to discuss with the wife of a friend he hadn’t known existed in the midst of said friend’s hospital room, so you broke the silence for him.

“Where’d Fanboy come from?”

Callsigns always intrigued you - the story behind Jake’s was the first question you asked, though you hadn’t gotten the real story until much later on. The silence didn’t bother you but Mickey seemed grateful for the question, if a little surprised, and shot you a smile that managed to touch his eyes.

“I love nerd shit,” he explained with a quiet laugh. “Star Wars, Star Trek, comic books, superheroes; all of it. I became a pilot because of Han Solo,” he admitted, expression brightening when you smiled at him. “I can get a little… into it when I talk about it, so, fanboy,” he explained, only a little sheepish.

“I love Star Trek. And Star Wars, but Star Trek has my heart.”

The confession was met with wide eyes and parted lips, though there was a hint of delight beneath the winged eyebrows. Mickey spared Jake a glance, blinked hard at the reminder of why you were there, before he returned his attention to you.

“Hangman’s married to a Trekkie? No way.” Mickey paused, as if considering all he knew about Jake - which was, from your understanding, a little less than the rest of the squad - before a look of understanding lit his eyes. “His nerd jokes were always a little too detailed for him not to know anything about Star Trek,” he declared, head tilting as he met your eyes.

For a moment, the room felt nearly normal. It was a conversation you could picture having with him at the Hard Deck, laughing over a few drinks as Jake played a round of pool and rolled his eyes fondly with every secret you spilled, and you willed yourself to keep from glancing at him as you nodded.

“If you tell him I told you this, it’ll be the last thing you do,” you warned, tone clearly teasing as you tilted your head to meet Mickey’s eyes, “but back when we first started seeing each other, when we were just friends with benefits, he made fun of me for being a Trekkie. He thought it was hilarious and so embarrassing that I was a nerd. It was the only thing he ever truly teased me for.”

A brief pause interrupted your story, a moment in which you finally spared Jake a glance and took a steadying breath. The memory of Jake’s teasing was one you loved, especially as it indirectly lead to the true beginning of your relationship, and it helped to distract yourself with stories of the past. The smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth was a little more real, a little easier, as you continued.

“One night, though, he was having a really hard time. Javy got deployed and his dad was really sick. We’d only been seeing each other for a few months and it was still a casual thing so he tried playing it all off. I could tell he wasn’t himself, though. He wasn’t interested in sex but he didn’t want to be alone so I told him we could just hang out. I was watching Star Trek in chronological order, starting with Enterprise, and was only on the first season. He made fun of it at first, called it cheesy and weird, but he got so into it. He asked me a thousand questions, mostly about why the Klingons hated everyone and why the Vulcans were so disliked when they were right about pretty much everything. But every night for two weeks, until he got deployed himself, we watched Star Trek together. And when he got home, he came back to me and we picked up where we left off. It went from him coming over for sex and leaving immediately after to him coming over for dinner and a few episodes of Star Trek. It just kind of became our thing and he’ll deny it until he’s blue in the face to anyone but me but Jake Seresin has a soft spot for Star Trek.”

Mickey’s eyes grew brighter with every word, clearly surprised but pleasantly so. The wonder with which he glanced between you and Jake lifted a fraction of the weight on your chest and brought a small smile to your own lips as you recognized the look in his eyes. It was awe, something a little too hopeful for the setting you found yourselves in, and you were suddenly grateful for Mickey’s bright-eyed enthusiasm.

“The first Halloween we spent as a couple, we were the mirror versions of Trip and T’Pol,” you confessed, grinning when he gaped at you. “Jake only agreed because he could lie and say he was a pilot who’d been in an accident, because of the jumpsuit. I think I was the only one who really knew who he was but it was nice.”

“Do you have pictures and can I see them?”

Though you hadn’t known what to expect, stuck in a hospital room with a friend of your husbands that you’d never met, you were grateful for Mickey’s presence. There were parts of Jake you knew he wouldn’t want shared with his teammates - not yet, anyway - and you kept those tucked close to your heart. Other pieces of your shared life, however, were laid bare with every enthusiastic question Mickey asked.

For nearly an hour, you sifted through photos documenting your relationship with Jake - from the first picture you took, pressed close together in the dim light of a dive bar near a naval base, to photos from your wedding day, to a selfie taken on the beach only a few days prior. Though, somewhere along the way, Mickey’s questions shifted from reminiscing on the past to planning for the future without you even realizing.

When he left, after a great deal of chatter and even a little laughter, the weight on your chest felt lighter. Jake’s condition hadn’t changed miraculously over the course of your conversation but Mickey managed to steer you away from the dark clouds and back into the sunshine. When he left, you felt a little hope, a little peace, and could breathe a little easier as you reached for Jake’s hand.

Before the levity of Mickey’s visit could wear off, a third visitor stepped through the door of Jake’s room.

From the moment Phoenix entered the room, it was clear that she felt out of place. She and Jake weren’t the closest and would likely never be the best of friends. There was no real animosity, not anymore, but their personalities clashed more often than not. He was something of an annoying older brother, a pain in the ass that refused to disappear, and he knew it.

Because of his unapologetic Hangman tendencies, Jake once admitted he wasn’t sure Natasha would ever truly like him, despite how much he’d grown to respect and admire her. However, despite knowing that she was the one person who continually called him on his shit, it seemed that his fears were unfounded.

A soft frown curved her mouth and pinched her brows as she settled into the seat at your left. With every second she spent glancing at Jake, her concern grew clearer. It seemed new, as if it had taken her by surprise, but you’d expected it. Though Jake doubted his place in her heart, you had little doubt that she cared about him as much as he cared about her.

Of all the aviators - aside from Javy - Natasha was the only one you’d met prior to moving to San Diego. It was in passing, in the presence of a friend of a friend of a friend, and long before you married Jake. There’d been small talk, brief chatter that neither of you could remember, but you could see the dim recognition on her face as she finally turned to face you.

“I’ll be honest,” she began, voice soft after a few long moments of silence. “I really don’t know what to say.”

It was apologetic but you understood. If you were in her shoes, you likely wouldn’t know what to say, either.

Their relationship wasn’t built around feelings, had never been fuzzy and warm and truly friendly. Jake was cocky, a little too loud and brash and full of himself, and she reminded him of those facts every chance she got. Their friendship was witty quips and sharp remarks, rolled eyes and huffs of annoyance.

Soft declarations of hope were out of character, as were heartwarming - and, no doubt, embellished - stories of his contributions to the team. That was of no surprise to you, little about your husband surprised you, so you shrugged and offered her a half-smile.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

The declaration wasn’t unkind, simply an acknowledgement that you expected nothing from her, and Natasha seemed to understand. Though her pinched brows remained, frown still darkening her face, she nodded and allowed her gaze to return to Jake.

Though you were thankful for Mickey’s spirit, you found yourself grateful for Natasha’s quiet. The adrenaline that pushed you out of your house and to the hospital had long since worn off. The tears you’d shed left your eyes in a state of discomfort and you could feel a migraine beginning to form. Everything felt heavy, like the weight of the world resting on your shoulders, and holding a conversation felt too much like work in that moment.

It was clear that she worried for Jake, that she’d begun questioning her own mortality, and it hurt to know that Jake was the catalyst for such difficult soul-searching. As you gently traced the back of Jake’s hand, fingers a featherlight touch over his bruised skin, you wondered how long it would take for the squad to return to some semblance of normal, regardless of the outcome of Jake’s accident.

Natasha, however, didn’t leave you long to dwell. Instead, she tipped her head to truly look at you for the first time since stepping into the room.

“Hang- Jake,” she corrected herself, blinking just a little too fast. You knew the look well, had worn it a handful of times yourself, and smiled softly as she spared him a fleeting glance. “Jake is the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.” When you laughed, head tilting in quiet agreement, Natasha’s frown lifted into the smallest of smiles. “He’ll be okay,” she assured you.

There was a finality to her statement that told you she clearly believed it. Though their relationship seemed to be the roughest around the edges, Natasha’s certainty calmed your heart. If she believed he would be alright, if Mickey believed he would be alright, if Javy believed he would be alright, you were going to have to believe it, too.

“Yeah.” There was little you could say in response - even less that wouldn’t leave you in tears - so you nodded and traced the faint tan line at Jake’s ring finger. “Thanks for coming. I know he’d appreciate it.”

Natasha left shortly after, eyes a little glassier than you’d expected and shoulders slumped in a way that made your chest ache. However, you weren’t given time to dwell on the effect Jake’s accident might have on the squad - on Natasha and on their relationship moving forward - as another visitor stepped through the door.

Unlike the others, Bob lingered near the foot of Jake’s bed. He stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, taking in the sight of Jake with a deep frown darkening his face. Of the visitors, Bob seemed to be the most upset, and you found yourself surprised as he pulled in a shuddering breath.

“Can I ask a question?”

Bob’s voice was soft, timid, and though he had yet to spare you a glance, you smiled as you twined your fingers with Jake’s. “Sure,” you permitted, though you were quick to add, “but I’m not promising an answer.”

The frown he wore deepened into something nearing hurt, an anguish you weren’t expecting from someone who never seemed particularly close with your husband - someone who, like Natasha, Jake feared may never really like him - as he finally lifted his gaze to you.

“How come we didn’t know Hangman was married? I was stationed at Lemoore, too, and I never knew.”

That was the question you’d been waiting for, unasked but lingering on the tip of every tongue. You were surprised no one else had asked - Mickey, in particular - but it seemed as if the answer truly mattered to Bob. There was genuine hurt in his eyes and you felt your heart clench at the furrow of his brows.

There were no memories of him from Lemoore - he wasn’t someone you remembered seeing out at a bar, not someone you remembered having over for dinner - but he clearly remembered Jake.

“It wasn’t intentional,” you consoled him, voice just as soft as his had been as he slowly stepped closer. “Jake’s never really been one to make friends. Javy knew because he and Jake have been through a lot together but you guys are the first real friends he’s made since Javy. He was planning on bringing me to the Hard Deck to meet you all but I’ve been so busy with my new job and unpacking the house that the time was just never right.” A huff of laughter, devoid of any humor, escaped as you cast a sideways glance at Jake’s face. “That sounds really stupid now but it all felt so important at the time, you know?”

Bob made a noise of understanding, one that confirmed he understood the pang of regret you felt each time you truly looked at Jake, as he finally took the seat to your left. “Hindsight,” he mumbled, corner of his mouth kicking up in a rueful smile as he folded his hands across his lap. “We met a few times, me and Hangman,” he admitted, gaze dropping to his lap. “He didn’t remember me but most people don’t. He was nice to my grandma when she came to visit. Helped her find me when she got lost.”

“He can be nice when he wants to be.” Bob hummed, a noncommittal sound that acknowledged he’d heard you, and allowed himself a glance at the way you continued to caress Jake’s hand. “Grandparents love him,” you continued, though you weren’t quite sure why. “I’m my grandmother’s favorite but he’s a close second, even though she’s got six other real grandchildren.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Bob’s mouth. “How long have you been married?”

“A little over a year. We got married a few months before he was called back to Top Gun,” you informed him, smiling as you squeezed Jake’s hand.

The wedding itself was a small affair - a handful of friends and family - on his family ranch and brought a smile to your face each time you thought of it. Before Jake, you hadn’t given marriage much thought, hadn’t really considered what your wedding might look like, but looking back, there was nothing you would change.

“It rained, near the end of the reception. I panicked for a second ‘cause it felt like bad luck, you know? But Jake just smiled and pulled me out to dance in the rain.” There was a moment of pause, a moment in which you took in the deceptively peaceful look on his face, before you turned your gaze to Bob. “I know Jake can be… a lot. But there’s good there, too. Just takes him a while to let other people see it.”

Jake was an acquired taste, that much you knew to be fact, but Bob’s understanding nod confirmed something else you knew to be true; his return to Top Gun had flipped a sort of switch. Details were fuzzy, as they always seemed to be, but Jake had grown more comfortable in the last year.

A small part of you wondered if it was love, being given affection he’d doubted himself worthy of for so long, but another part of you wondered if it was acceptance. He’d finally come to accept that not only was he worthy of romantic love, he was worthy of familial, platonic love, too. The people he’d seen as competition for so long, the people he’d pushed himself to be better, stronger, louder than weren’t out to get him. They were there to work with him, to be part of the same team, and you were glad that others had seen the change, too.

While Bob wasn’t as quiet as Natasha or as chatty as Mickey, he still managed to make you laugh with the odd deadpan remark. He asked a handful of questions about your relationship, mostly wondering how you managed to live with Jake, and answered questions you would’ve asked had you met in any other setting.

It was nice, another pleasant conversation in the midst of a dark moment, but you were grateful for the silence that followed once he left. For the first time in hours, you were left alone for longer than a few moments. There was a slight worry it would be overwhelming, give you too much time to think about the dozens of potential outcomes that awaited you, but you felt a sort of peace you hadn’t expected.

Regardless of the outcome, knowing that Jake had managed to find a family that loved him, despite his past misgivings, granted you serenity. Knowing that that same family had taken the time to embrace you, despite learning of your existence only a handful of hours before, was enough to ease the weight on your chest and make catching your breath less of a monumental task.

Jake was loved, well and truly, and you were grateful for it.

Though you imagined the night was over, the visitors would stop funneling in, a final member of the team appeared with thirty minutes to spare. Rooster stepped into the room with a brown paper bag that smelled of Chinese takeout and a coffee that looked suspiciously like your go-to order.

When his offer was met with a frown of confusion, Bradley smiled. “Coyote,” he explained, not giving you the chance to ask. “You should eat."

Hunger was the last thing on your mind. The thought of eating turned your stomach but you knew he was right. So, instead of arguing, you took the coffee with a smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

Bradley sat in the chair to your left and began rifling through the bag. He produced a few of your favorites - an order Javy no doubt relayed - before pulling out a carton of his own food. When you realized he was waiting for you to begin before he would, you laughed quietly.

As the pair of you ate, both slow and methodical, Bradley spared you glances every so often. Like Javy, the silence you shared was comfortable. Despite not knowing one another, there was no overwhelming, awkward need to fill the quiet with mindless chatter. Still, Bradley managed to break the silence before you could.

“I never told him,” he began, voice a quiet rasp in the still of Jake’s room, “but I figured he was seeing someone. He’s got a photo of you in the cockpit of his jet.”

That was of little surprise to you. Jake had taken a handful of polaroids throughout your relationship, each with the excuse of being able to carry you with him wherever he went, and you smiled. “Is it still the one from the beach?”

Bradley returned your smile easily as he shook his head. “No, it looks like you’re in the snow. I tried not to stare too much. Figured he would’ve said something if he wanted us all to know.”

“That was right before we got engaged. He knew I’d never seen snow so he took me to see it.” Bradley paused, placed his chopsticks onto the small tray and turned to face you as you swirled the straw of your coffee. “Is he still an asshole? Absolutely. Do I want to smack him for being an asshole? Regularly.” Bradley laughed, smile as real as you imagined it could be, and tipped his head in acknowledgement as his eyes shifted to where you squeezed Jake’s hand. “I know that it’s hard sometimes, seeing Jake beneath Hangman, but I’m glad you’re all getting a glimpse.”

“When we first got called back,” Bradley began, “I told him that he hadn’t changed. But that was a lie. We can all see that he’s changed. He’s still an asshole, but he’s more tolerable now.”

“I can’t lie and say that I’ve never seen that side of him because I have. I’ve seen Hangman. But I see Jake more often. I see the man who dances with me in the kitchen to old country music after we do the dishes. I see the man who asked me to marry him in the snow, even though he hated every second of the cold.” Bradley frowned, if only slightly, as he watched you blink back the tears that stung the backs of eyes. “Jake loves you guys. He spent so long trying to be the best, seeing you guys as competition. I’m just glad he’s learning how to be part of a team.”

Bradley hesitated for a moment, seeming to question whether he should speak, before he spared Jake a glance. “He saved my life,” he admitted quietly, eyes on Jake as he shook his head slightly. “Out of everyone, he was the last person I expected to come back for me. But he did.”

The shift in their relationship had been the most obvious to you. Jake had gone from lamenting being passed over in favor of Bradley Bradshaw to laughing at his antics in the span of a few weeks, and you wondered what happened. To know that your husband, who felt overshadowed by Bradley for years, had gone out of his way to save him brought you comfort rather than instilling fear.

“He doesn’t talk a lot about deployment,” you confessed, shrugging slightly when he turned his attention back to you, “so I appreciate you telling me that. I’ve spent the last few years kind of terrified, just waiting for a call like this, but now that it’s here, I don’t really know what to do.”

“There’s not much you can do other than be here.” When you frowned, gaze falling to the cup in your hands, Bradley sighed. “I can’t tell you it’ll be okay because I don’t know that. But I can tell you that he’s good at what he does and he’s stubborn. Knowing he has you here, waiting for him, he’s going to fight like hell to stay with you.”

Bradley sounded just as confident as Natasha had, convinced that Jake would be fine, and you were grateful for his assurance. It filled your chest with a little hope, though you were careful not to allow it to inflate too much as hope was the thing that killed.

Instead, you attempted to keep some semblance of the peace the Squad’s visits brought, even as Bradley bid you goodnight. You knew that there was no chance of sleep finding you, even as tired as you found yourself, so you shuffled through the bag Javy bought and smiled when you came across the book he’d plucked from your nightstand.

It was a book you’d taken to reading when you couldn’t sleep, one you’d already read at least a dozen times, but it helped remove you from reality as you flipped it open and settled deeper into your seat. The nagging anxiety, the worry that Jake may not awake, lingered prominently in the pit of your stomach - made the tips of your fingers tingle and the intake of a deep breath seem next to impossible - but you attempted to swallow it as you removed the bookmark and began to read aloud.

Jake was never overly fond of the books you read - he preferred nonfiction, biographies or deep dives into historic events - but you’d found a happy medium in the form of modern classics. The Illustrated Man was one he’d gotten into and it helped that the book was comprised of short stories, split into pieces for those nights he was home and sleep seemed to evade you both.

While the hospital continued to move around you, while the machines Jake remained tethered to beeped and blinked, you began to read aloud. A story of explorers, searching for a force greater than themselves, followed by the tale of men driven to madness by eternal rain filled the relative quiet of the hospital room before you paused at the title page of The Rocket Man.

The story of a man who left his family for months at a time, off in a spaceship exploring the galaxy, was not one you gave much thought before falling in love with Jake. But the story of a young boy who desperately missed his father and a wife who once loved her husband greatly having resigned herself to knowing that one day her husband would walk out their door for the final time weighed a little too heavy on your chest these days.

There was no future in which you could see yourself growing numb, resigned to a fate you desperately wished to avoid, and you hoped beyond hope that Jake would continue returning to you. The pair of you hadn’t discussed a family, a future beyond loving one another, but you knew that Jake Seresin was it for you and that you were it for him.

So, instead of allowing yourself to fall deeper into the anxiety you’ve barely kept at bay, you flipped through the pages in search of a different story.

As you thumbed through the book, however, a quiet sigh drew your attention. The book was quickly abandoned as you lifted your head to glance at Jake. Those green eyes, a sight you marveled at even on the best of days, met yours and you nearly pinched yourself as you blinked back the tears stinging at the backs of your eyes.

In that moment, every emotion possible filled you. Breathing simultaneously grew easier and more difficult as the weight on your chest shifted. The tingling in the tips of your fingers eased, if only slightly, as you struggled to latch onto one particular train of thought.

Before you could speak - and say what, you weren’t sure - Jake beat you to it. “Why’d you stop reading?”

The question was so mundane, spoken as if he’d simply woken from a nap to find you pausing din the midst of a story, but the gravel of his voice and the injuries marring his face reminded you of exactly what happened. The story was one you made it a habit to skip, especially with Jake around, so you simply shrugged.

“I… the next one isn’t my favorite,” you nearly whispered, gaze never leaving his face as you dropped the book into the chair and reached for his hand. “I’ll keep reading after someone comes and looks you over, alright?”

Jake hummed, a noncommittal sound, as he tilted his head to offer you a lazy smile. “Good. Missed your voice, sweetheart.”

Though he didn’t mean for it to, Jake’s comment broke the dam that had kept the tears at bay since the aviators left you alone. Relief, so bright and warm, filled your veins even as Jake squeezed your hand and frowned at the sight of your tears. But before he could speak, you shook your head.

“I’m going to go grab a nurse. I’ll be right back,” you promised, squeezing his hand in return before untangling your fingers and rushing out of the room on jelly legs.

As the nurse, followed by a doctor, stepped into Jake’s room, you remained in the hall. With your back pressed to the wall, you scrubbed at your eyes to stop the tears from falling. You made it a point to keep your composure, especially in front of Jake as it related to his work, and did your best to settle yourself. However, the weight of the day, combined with the lack of sleep, made it difficult to pull yourself together.

Jake was lucky, you didn’t need a doctor to tell you that - though he made sure to point it out the moment he stepped back into the hall - and you knew that the day could’ve ended in tragedy. This was the closest you’d come to losing Jake and you had no desire to ever relive this day.

But this was his life, the path he’d chosen and a path you knew he would continue down the moment he was cleared to fly once more, so you swallowed your fear and thanked the doctor for letting you know that they’d be keeping Jake for a little while longer, just to observe.

After a few moments, when the nurse finally left the room, you stepped in and returned to your seat at Jake’s side.

For the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure what to say to Jake. The silence felt awkward, painful in a way it had never really been, as you took a moment to study the injuries Jake had sustained.

“Doc assured me there are ways to get rid of scars. Just gonna have to deal with me lookin’ like Two Face for a while.” The joke was weak, unable to hide the anxiety he clearly felt, and you frowned as you lifted a hand to gently brush the uninjured cheek. When you found yourself unable to speak, voice stuck in your throat even as you so desperately wanted to say something, Jake sighed. “Want me to stop talking?”

“Never.” The reply was quick, stronger than you intended, but it made Jake laugh quietly - and then wince - as your hand returned to his. “Please don’t. Your voice is comforting. I’ve missed it.”

Jake sighed once more, a quiet sound as he attempted to shift in bed, and turned his head to a more comfortable position. “I’m sorry for scaring you, sweetheart.”

The apology was soft, a whisper in the still of the room, and you shook your head to keep him from speaking further. “You’re awake,” you dismissed, “apology accepted.”

Sensing your desire to change the subject - you weren’t ready to talk about the accident and you were assuming he wasn’t either - Jake hummed. “Anything exciting happen while I was out?”

“I met some of the Dagger Squad.” Jake smiled - the barely there lifting of his lips - as you idly brushed your fingers over the back of his hand. “Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Rooster; they all dropped by. Javy said the others planned to come tomorrow but hopefully they can all visit at home, instead.”

“Anybody get a picture when they figured out who you were?”

“No, but they all looked a little like fish out of water.” Jake laughed quietly at that - a sound that seemed to pain him as the hand you weren’t holding lifted to his ribs. “I spilled some of your deepest, darkest secrets while you were out.”

“Mm, only fair,” he decided, hand turning to hold yours still as he waited for you to meet his eyes once more. “Know you don’t wanna talk about it right now but I’m glad you’re here, darlin’. You were the last thing I -“ Jake cut himself off, quickly realizing that line of thought was not one you needed to hear in that moment, so he corrected himself. “You’re always on my mind. Just wanted to make sure you know that.”

Jake made sure you knew that - often made it a point to remind you that he was thinking of you, whether it came in the form of flowers or a quick text - so you nodded. “I know.”

“Good.” Jake took a moment to really take you in, then, eyes roving your face for the first time, before he sighed and squeezed your hand. “You should go home, get some rest. I’ll still be here in the morning.” When you raised a brow, clearly unimpressed with his idea, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You leave when I leave. Fine, at least try to get some sleep. I’m the one in the hospital bed but you look like hell, sweetheart.”

“If you didn’t have a head injury, I’d be really offended,” you huffed, though the joke came out a little weaker than you intended.

“How long you think the squad’ll let me get away with shit before they start calling me out again?”

The laughter was still light, brittle, and accompanied by a wince but Jake seemed to truly be in better spirits than you expected. You knew that it was for your benefit - the real damage would be uncovered later, when you were both in a headspace to discuss what happened, how he really felt - but you still laughed as you shook your head.

“Not even for a second. You’re lucky, babe, but not that lucky.”

Jake smiled, happy that his joke worked at least for the moment, and gestured to the small couch in the corner. “Still gonna push my luck, sweetheart. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, promise.”

Though you had no desire to lose another moment with Jake, the need for sleep was overwhelming. You could feel the adrenaline of the day wearing off, the worry and anxiety calming just enough to leave you exhausted, so you sighed and slumped in your seat. “Fine, but only because you’re cute.”

Everything that awaited you both remained to be seen. The conversations you needed to have, what the future would hold, could wait. You were granted tomorrow with Jake, the only thing you could’ve asked for, and figured that would be enough for now. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you allowed yourself to rest with the knowledge that when you woke, he’d be there.

______________________________________

Author’s Note: If the tags don’t work, I will scream.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @xlynnx07, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @prettymucheveryothernamewastaken, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @ccristata, @feltonswifesworld87, @mxdi0, @angellwingggs, @s00buwu, @mjsvinyl, @woodlandmouth, @hngmnslver, @wifey-halstead, @pr3ttyr0s3xs, @winchester126, @peoniarose

#hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #top gun one shot #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick x reader #v’s fics

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 3 months

Text

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

A few days have passed since Professor Maury and Drake took me to their house.

Sebastian: "Mitsuki, you said you've been having bad dreams lately. Are you okay?"

Mitsuki: "Oh, yes. I'm sorry for worrying you."

I said that, but the truth is, I'm still having nightmares.

(I sometimes have the same dream, and other times a different one.)

(But in every dream, I'm still a Dhampir.)

Sebastian: "They said that dreams can be either auspicious or ominous. Some historical figures achieved great things by taking their dreams as omens."

Sebastian: "Scary dreams are sometimes considered a sign of good luck, so why not treat them like fortune-telling?"

Mitsuki: "Hehe. That's a good idea."

I smiled appreciatively at Sebastian's concern.

(But the dreams I see are a little different from ordinary ones.)

(They're so vivid, almost as if they're pleading with me in sorrow.)

As I pondered this, Sebastian exclaimed next to me.

Sebastian: "We've run out of essential seasoning for tonight's menu."

Sebastian: "Mitsuki, could you accompany me to do some shopping? I need to visit a few stores."

Mitsuki: "Sure."

After arriving in town, we decided to split up. By the time I finished my part, the sun had begun to set.

(I think I got everything we need. Sebastian should be finishing up soon.)

I was looking at my shopping list as I made my way to our meeting place when一

Dog voice: "Woof!"

(Was that a dog's voice? It sounded like a scream.)

Suddenly, a high-pitched cry caught my attention, and I went into the back alley to look for the source of it.

There I found一

Child 1: "Haha, look at this filthy mutt!"

Puppy: *Whimper*

Child 2: "Dogs have to obey humans, you know!"

Several children were bullying a brown-haired puppy, poking it with a stick, and threatening it.

Mitsuki: "What do you think you're doing?!"

In a moment of panic, I moved to intervene, but something raced past me and leaped into the midst of the children.

Suddenly, a large dog with a gray coat appeared.

(Huh? A wild dog!?)

Stray Dog: "Grrr."

Child 1: "Whoa!? What's this thing!?"

The wild dog stood protectively over the puppy, glaring menacingly.

The children's faces immediately tensed as the dog, nearly their own height, appeared out of nowhere.

Child 2: "Shoo! Go away!!"

One of the children, holding a small stone, raised it, ready to throw it at the stray dog.

Mitsuki: "No, don't do that!"

I instinctively intervened, and the flying pebbles struck my arms and legs.

Mitsuki: "Ouch!"

Child 1: "Now's our chance, run!"

I crouched down in pain, and the children hurriedly ran away.

(My leg is bleeding, but I'm sure it'll heal just fine.)

Puppy: *Whimper*

I turned at the faint whimper and saw the puppy peeking at me from behind the wild dog.

Mitsuki: "I'm sorry for startling you. Are you both okay?"

Wild dog?: "........"

(This dog seems to be protecting the puppy. For now, it doesn't seem like it's going to attack.)

The wild dog seemed more cautious than alert, observing my actions.

Its eyes, upon closer inspection, had a purple hue, giving me a sense of déjà vu.

(The puppy's front paw is bleeding.)

It must have been injured earlier.

Mitsuki: "Will you let me patch that poor baby's paw?"

I took out my handkerchief and quietly addressed the dog, ensuring not to agitate it.

The wild dog seemed to understand my intention and moved away from the puppy.

(What a smart dog. Maybe it belongs to someone.)

(But it seems quite wild for a pet.)

As I wrapped the puppy's leg with the handkerchief...

???: "Sidereus, there you are."

(Huh? That voice.)

Recognizing the familiar voice, I turned around to see Professor Maury standing there.

Maury: "It's you again."

Mitsuki: "Hello. What a coincidence."

Seeing Maury's frowning expression, my voice unintentionally became sharper.

(I'm not trying to meet him on purpose, so why do we keep running into each other like this?)

Wild dog?: *Bark*

As I blurted that in my mind, the wild dog barked and walked towards him, sitting obediently by his feet.

(Come to think of it, he called the dog Sidereus earlier.)

Mitsuki: "Is that dog yours?"

Maury: "It's not a dog, but a wolf."

Mitsuki: "W-Wolf!?"

Surprised, I inadvertently raised my voice, thinking it was just a dog.

(This is the first time I've seen one up close. Is it okay to approach?)

Wolves are fierce creatures.

As I shivered with realization, he spoke as if he could see through me.

Maury: "Don't worry. Wolves don't attack humans."

Mitsuki: "I see."

Maury: "As long as you don't recklessly provoke it. Humans tend to exaggerate the ferocity of wolves due to twisted knowledge."

Mitsuki: "I see. Since it was trying to protect the puppy earlier, it must be a gentle creature at heart."

Mitsuki: "Thank you very much."

Sidereus: *Bark*

Maury: "........."

Suddenly, the wolf called Sidereus grabbed the hem of his cloak and tugged at it.

Maury: "What's the matter, Sidereus?"

Sidereus: *Bark*

Maury: "........."

Sidereus turned his head toward me as if wanting to say something.

He glanced alternately between me and the puppy behind me, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

Maury: "Humans are truly foolish."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Maury: "They harm and persecute the weak, and that foolishness remains unchanged throughout time."

He muttered to himself and then approached me, grabbing my wrist.

Mitsuki: "What are you doing?"

Maury: "I'm going to stop the bleeding. Follow me."

Caught off guard by his unexpected words, I hurriedly tried to pull my hand back, but Professor Maury wouldn’t let go.

Mitsuki: “If that’s the case, I can do it myself. I have a handkerchief.”

Maury: “Isn’t that handkerchief wrapped around the puppy’s leg yours?”

(Oh, right.)

Puppy: *Whine*

He looked down at the puppy whining at my feet and calmly said:

Maury: “If you want to avoid getting mistreated by humans again, you better leave.”

Seemingly intimidated by him, the puppy took a step back, then looked at me and barked before slowly walking into the alley.

Mitsuki: “I’m glad he can walk.”

Maury: “........”

Maury: “Let’s go.��

He led me to the square and made me sit on the edge of the fountain, pouring water over the injured area.

Mitsuki: “........”

I endured the pain as the wound stung more than I anticipated. Then he took out his handkerchief to wrap it around the wound, but I hurriedly stopped him.

Mitsuki: “Your handkerchief will get dirty! I’m fine now.”

Maury: “What’s the point if I don’t stop the bleeding? Or are you going to leave it dripping everywhere?”

Maury: “It’s annoying to have the smell lingering around.”

(Lingering around?)

(It’s nice of him to treat the wound, but if it’s annoying him, he could just leave it.)

Maury: “Moreover, judging by the situation, you defended the puppy and Sidereus.”

Maury: “In that case, I owe you.”

His words made me blink.

(So, it’s a thank you?)

Honestly, I didn't really sense that kind of attitude from him, and it didn't seem like mere kindness either, but...

(Is he someone who sticks to his principles?)

As he wrapped the handkerchief around my leg, much like I did for the puppy, I noticed something.

Maybe it was the water or perhaps his naturally low body temperature, but his occasionally cold hand against my skin felt ticklish.

After wrapping the handkerchief, he looked up, and his purple eyes reflected me.

(Oh, I see. I just realized.)

The familiarity I felt in Sidereus's eyes was from him.

Maury: "Are there any other places that hurt?"

Mitsuki: "My arm."

I couldn't even bring myself to hesitate, so I just told him honestly.

As he rolled up the sleeve of my blouse and examined the wound, I couldn't bear the silence and searched for a way to start a conversation.

Townsperson 1: "The Paris Expo was amazing! Especially that huge telescope!"

Townsperson 2: "Yeah, I was surprised at how big it was. It was indeed the world's largest telescope."

(They were returning from the Expo.)

(Come to think of it, he's an astronomy professor.)

Mitsuki: "Um, did you happen to go to the Paris World's Fair? The highlight seems to have been the giant telescope."

When I tried to break the silence by throwing out a topic I had found, he let out an exasperated sigh.

Maury: "That telescope was too large to be practical for astronomical observations. It was basically a front they put up for the World's Fair."

Mitsuki: "I see. I had no idea."

Maury: "Those in power are more interested in showcasing the country's prestige than pursuing the truth."

I sensed a tinge of discomfort in his voice.

(He seems more lamenting than irritated.)

Mitsuki: "That's somehow sad, isn't it?"

Mitsuki: "There should be things more important than just appearances."

Maury: "........."

(When I heard about him from Isaac before, I thought he might be someone who confronts truth for the sake of principles.)

Mitsuki: "I hope the importance of pursuing truth, as you say, gets through."

I spoke my mind, and he glanced at me for a moment, then averted his gaze.

Maury: "It won't."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Maury: "Humans are creatures who define what's convenient for themselves as truth."

Maury: "Even if the truth is revealed, if it's inconvenient, they'll be condemned and excluded."

Maury: "I know of a fool who pursued the truth despite knowing this and ended up with a life sentence."

(I wonder if that person is his friend.)

He quietly and decisively labeled someone a fool, but I didn't see it that way.

Mitsuki: "I don't think that guy is a fool."

Maury: "What?"

Mitsuki: "If he ended up with a life sentence, it means there were people around who opposed him or hid the truth."

Mitsuki: "Persisting with your beliefs and pursuing the truth amidst such adversaries is not that easy, you know?"

Maury: "........."

Mitsuki: "For me, that person is braver than anyone else."

Maury: "........"

(Professor Maury?)

He lowered his gaze, concealing the lonely expression hidden behind his amethyst eyes.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp jp #ikevamp galileo #galileo galilei #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp translations

67 notes · View notes

mx-sinisters · 3 months

Text

pairing; ladybug/cat noir, marinette dupain-cheng/adrien agreste

word count; 10.2k

rating; g

tags; canon universe, fortune telling, tarot, angst, hurt/comfort, pov alternating

notes; got a tarot deck for my bday a while back and fell down a rabbit hole learning how to do readings. my advice is to never learn how so ur friends and family don’t harass u every time they see u but that’s just me.

summary; françoise dupont middle school is abuzz with excitement when juleka starts reading her classmates' fortunes with almost scary accuracy. after a week of bad luck, marinette is hoping that the future has something good in store for her, especially if it has to do with adrien. what she gets instead is a reading that reveals a little too much.

“she’s alive!”

marinette swatted away alya’s playful poking. “yeah, yeah, just barely.”

it’d been a rough few days for marinette to put it lightly. she came down with a fever on monday and missed school. unfortunately for her, hawk moth didn’t do sick days. with cat noir out of town, she had no choice but to haul herself out of bed every time an akumatized villain appeared. the constant back-and-forth ended up doubling her recovery time. before she knew it, it was monday again and she was a week behind on homework and class rep duties.

the school courtyard was completely packed. excited whispers filled the air as marinette tried to weave her way between groups of students. she was only able to catch her breath once she made it into the safety of the locker room.

“what in the world is going on?”

“have you checked your texts?” alya asked.

she had a vague memory of checking her phone and being overwhelmed by the hundred or so unread messages. she’d add that to the ever-growing list of things she needed to catch up on. “uh, i was about to, but then–”

“save it,” alya rolled her eyes. “the short version of it is juleka’s been reading everyone’s fortunes with the tarot deck rose got her for her birthday. and they’ve been accurate. like, scary accurate.”

read more on ao3

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #cat noir #chat noir #adrienette #adrien x marinette #marinette x adrien #ladynoir #ladybug x cat noir #ladybug x chat noir #cat noir x ladybug #chat noir x ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ladybug and chat noir #swrite

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makur0 · 2 years

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Day 6 - Thigh Riding [madara mikejima x gn! reader]

content warnings — nsfw, mdni. dom! madara, praise, penetration (mentioned)

word count — 449

“Just like that, you’re doing so well~”

Your hands grabbed Madara’s broad shoulders, whimpering into his chest as you bucked your hips impatiently. The male, obviously enjoying this, cooed little praises in your ear as he matched your rhythm by tensing his leg whenever you rutted against him.

How did you even get yourself in this mess? All you could remember was the fact he caught you... masturbating. After that everything flew by in a flash, and here you were.

“God,” You moaned out, your grip tightening. “This ‘s so fucking embarrassing-”

Madara let out a small laugh, his green eyes twinkling. “Mama doesn’t think so! I’m glad I found you like this, or else I wouldn’t be able to see this cute little face~”

You whined against his shirt, embarrassed as you quickened your pace on his thigh. You really weren’t going to ever live this down.

“Please, ‘dara,” You panted, frantically chasing your high. “I can’t- ‘s not enough-”

“Ah, shush,” He pressed a finger to your lips, successfully quieting your pleas. “Judging from your body language, you won’t have any problem getting off on my thigh...”

“But-” Whining, you tried to reach for his obvious tent, but one of his large hands grabbed your wrist and pulled you away.

“Nuh-uh. Come on, you can do this.”

Shooting a halfhearted glare, you grudgingly continued your movements, pressing even harder against his now-soaked thigh as you fished for the friction you needed to orgasm. Fortunately luck seemed to be on your side (with the help of Madara, of course) and you quickly found yourself humping the male’s thigh like a bitch in heat, your tongue even lolling out.

Madara smirked at you. Finally, finally he gets to see you ruined, even on his thigh. He’s been trying to poke at you, to break your prideful facade, but with no avail. Truth be told, when he caught you in the bathroom pleasuring yourself it instantly clicked in his mind. And by god he was glad he didn’t let the opportunity pass by.

Soon enough you finally came, hips stuttering and your torso collapsing into him as you moaned out in pleasure, cherishing the long-awaited orgasm. You couldn’t bring yourself to apologize, let alone care, that Madara now had a ruined pair of pants. But it seemed he didn’t seem to care too, because before you regained your senses he pushed you backwards, hovering over you.

“It really was a good show n’ all,” He laughed, his tone not matching his eyes. “But you left a very... ah, needy man in your wake. And now you have to make up for it.”

Well. It’s going to be a long night.

#enstars #ensemble stars #ensemble stars smut #enstars smut #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #kinktober #day 6 #madara mikejima x reader #madara mikejima

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ihaveatheoryonthat · 4 months

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At one point, I mentioned that I was torn as to which silly crossover to let myself write for my birthday. Friends in Low Places ultimately won out, but the second option was a Psychonauts crossover. This isn't the same as Power Trick, even though it draws from what I'd put together for that story-- it's an entirely different take on the concept.

If you're unfamiliar with Psychonauts 2 and don't want it spoiled via an incomplete WIP, you probably shouldn't read this one. It even starts with a spoiler, so the whole thing's going under a cut.

---

It wasn’t that the mission to retrieve Helmut’s body was going badly. It wasn’t.

It was just that his body… didn’t stay as trapped as anyone thought it would, and had been roaming, brainless, throughout the Grulovian countryside. But, hey! They didn’t need to chip through nearly as much ice as they’d expected, and Raz was getting a good clairvoyant workout in trying to track him down! There were more pros than cons, in his opinion.

He had yet to decide what category the giant ice mountain fell into. Raz had been tiny when his parents moved the family out of the country, so he would have assumed it had been there for millennia, but the locals insisted it was a new feature. That seemed relevant, somehow. A giant lake gets frozen solid, and then a couple decades later, a big chunk of ice appears? It couldn’t be coincidence. None of the nearby townspeople seemed to know how it got there, though-- just that a couple of years ago, everyone had gone to bed and found it looming over them the next morning.

Now, Razputin may have been a master of neither geometry nor geology, but he was pretty sure that was abnormal mountain behavior, and definitely worth investigation. As luck would have it, Helmut’s body had already moved on from the town, and the mountain was the next stop on it’s predetermined path, which gave Raz a perfect excuse to poke around without ignoring his mission.

When he went to leave the town, an older woman tucked [?] into his hands and told him to carry it with him as payment for safe passage.

Ominous!

He was still going.

The toughest part of the trip was the distance itself-- outside of more developed areas, the snow piled up and was difficult to traverse, though there were numerous grooves worn into the powder, suggesting he wasn’t the first to travel this direction. Not all of them went the same way, and some were deeper than others, which made Raz wonder why the locals would trek all the way out here-- if it was curiosity, tradition or psychic interference drawing them in.

One of the funny things about distance was that it minimized the destination. Slowly, the mountain grew in scale, the opaque ice glittering in the midday sun from a mile away, until it dwarfed everything else. Even at a distance, the dark tunnels leading inward were an immediate contrast against the shining, pristine surface, and in and of itself, that could so easily lure passerby.

Someone who lacked a brain in a very literal sense would stride right on in.

Fortunately, Raz was no mere passerby. He was a mildly trained psychic with a mission, and he kind of knew what he was getting himself into. He made an effort to remember the turns he was taking and thought he was doing a pretty good job… if one were to ignore the fact that he hadn’t actually found anything. Every offshoot led deeper into the tunnel system, and while it made sense that there wouldn’t be much open space inside the mountain, the halls were unnaturally consistent. There came a point where Raz found he could predict what the next set would look like because they all followed the same pattern-- all of them identical.

He was probably caught in some kind of illusion.

Raz wasn’t one to give up, but he could also recognize a lost cause, and right now, he wasn’t making any progress. He had to figure out where the [illusion] was coming from and neutralize it before continuing down this path, so he turned his back on the next fork and began retracing his steps.

To his surprise, it didn’t lead him directly out of the mountain, like a single loop would have. He had to count each repetition down, inverting the turns he’d taken, which made him realize just how far he’d wandered before the pattern registered. He wasn’t worried yet, because he knew where he was going, but it made him reconsider what was going on; maybe not an illusion or a psychic construct, but something focused on disorientation? It didn’t feel like he’d taken this much time on the way in…

He heard footsteps. He whirled around to face the branch off of the tunnel, one hand raised to his temple just in case, and crept closer, hoping he might get the drop on whatever had caused the sound. The silhouette that turned the corner was strange-- tall and disproportionate, wider as it [got lower down].

It was the tale end of a muttered, “--V?” that clued Raz in on its exact nature. He relaxed and-- since there was no point in calling out to a brainless body-- trotted over to start corralling Helmut. The upper half of the silhouette moved, distinct from the body and, now that Raz was looking, rose well above the horned hat. He would have gone on the defensive again, if not for:

“Ah, are you lost as well? Come with me, please; I’ll see you both to your destination.”

He didn’t move, but Helmut’s body did. The second person gripped its shoulder to still it for the moment and raised their free hand. Gradually, light filtered in through the ice-- crystal clear now, instead of opaque with frost, keeping the tunnels dim-- which allowed them to observe one another.

The first thing Raz noticed was that the person looked like he’d lost a fight with a psychic bear; his clothes were ratty and thin in places, but in spite of the [lacking] winter wear, he seemed largely unbothered by the cold. The second thing was that he was incredibly pale-- pale hair, pallid skin, and eyes light enough to reflect back at whoever was looking. He hesitated on the last point, because something was wrong there; while this person was looking at him straight-on, it seemed like he wasn’t seeing Raz properly. Not in the sense that he had bad eyesight, but that he just… wasn’t seeing the same reality Raz saw.

That probably had something to do with the third point of interest: the impractically thick hunk of psilirium that encircled the person’s wrist. It wasn’t the worst Raz had seen by a long shot, but it was still enough to make his eyes water when he looked directly at it. From the corner of his vision, he watched the light play off of it as the man dropped his arm; he wondered how in the world that could have happened, and how this person was going about their daily life wearing the world’s worst mood bracelet.

“Please,” The man said, his clouded eyes sweeping over Raz, “It’s not safe to travel down these tracks. I know the route well, and can lead you back to safety.”

That final word struck a chord, and Raz inclined his head. Was this who the woman in town was talking about? The [?] was meant for him, in return for guiding people out of the mountain?

The man’s shoulders relaxed and the angle of his eyes shifted. He waved Raz over with his psitanium-cuffed hand and waited for him to fall into step after him, adjusting his grip on Helmut’s shoulder to prompt the brainless body onward with them.

“You don’t dress like the locals. Did you come here to investigate Korona? If so, I would highly advise against such a course of action; the paths here are treacherous, almost like they have a mind of their own.” The person said, voice low, but still bouncing off of the icy walls and echoing into the tunnels.

Raz shook his head, and then tilted it toward Helmut’s body, “Actually, I was looking for him.”

He heard a relieved laugh, “Ah, good! Perhaps you’ll succeed where I’ve failed; no matter how I try to impress the danger upon him, he always returns here. It’s… nice to see a familiar face, but I don’t want him to put himself at risk.”

“Do you know him? Who are you?” […]

There was a long pause. “Warden. I’m the warden of this territory. It’s my duty to ensure that none come to harm under my watch.”

[…] “You’re the warden of the mountain?”

He nodded, and didn’t look back.

“Then do you know how it got here?” […]

Warden’s head turned to fix him with a blank stare. “I’m unsure what you mean by that; Mount Korona has been here as long as I can remember.”

Raz felt his brow wrinkle as he considered the impossibility of that, and then realized how it could be true. “How long have you been here?”

The look turned vaguely helpless, and the warden repeated, “As long as I can remember.”

...yeah, the psilirium definitely wasn’t doing him any favors. Raz didn’t think he could take his eyes off of Helmut’s body long enough to do anything about that-- not without running the risk of losing it to the countryside yet again-- but maybe he could come back after this mission was over... or, if not, then at least make sure he reported the person wandering around with an active psychohazard on his wrist. As they walked, he prodded gently at the man’s mind, but wasn’t surprised to find himself repelled; while the psilirium was taking a toll, Warden was in direct contact with it and still functional, which meant his psychic defenses wouldn’t be anything to sneeze at.

For just a second, Raz considered lobbing a confusion grenade, just in case that might increase the man’s lucidity, but he was pretty sure he’d get in a load of trouble for it if anyone found out.

They made it to the mouth of the cave without incident, and Warden inclined his head to Raz, gesturing for him to take over in guiding Helmut’s body. He reached over and took him by a sleeve, and then hesitated. The man was outside of the cave system for now; if he could get him to the base camp somehow, that would make removing the psilirium orders easier. Not only would it save everyone the trouble of hunting him back down, but they would have numbers on their side, and maybe even tools that would help.

Before the stranger could bid them goodbye, Raz hastily said, “You think you could help me get him-- ah-- home? He… keeps getting away from me.”

Warden blinked at him, and then shifted to consider Helmut’s body.

“I can.” He decided, tucking the psilirium-laden arm behind his back and moving the opposite hand to rest upon Helmut’s shoulder. “Lead the way; I’ll ensure that he follows the route you set.”

The trip back to the base camp wasn’t going to be an easy one; it was definitely more direct than the path Raz had picked out, hopping from town to town as he tracked Helmut’s meandering body, but even walking in a straight line, it was a substantial distance. One unexpected silver lining was that, instead of behaving as snow usually did, it parted for them as they passed through, the powdery ice freezing into place on their either side.

Raz reached out with one gloved hand and found that there was no give; it was like it had thawed and refrozen, creating a smooth, glassy texture. He didn’t know cryokinesis, and without a brain, Helmut’s body couldn’t have done that, so he looked to the last off the potential culprits; the warden stared dispassionately out at the horizon line, giving no indication that he noticed the scrutiny he’d been put under. He wasn’t actively moving the snow, but the ambient energy around him-- a psychic aura-- absently pushed outward, and was definitely the reason they could travel unhindered.

He didn’t try to make small talk as they went-- though, occasionally, Helmut’s body chimed in with one-word commentary-- and that seemed to suit the warden just as well. Every now and then, the man would glance over at him, as if to gauge where they were headed and ensure that everyone was where he’d last seen them, but he never offered any of his thoughts, either.

[…]

Belatedly, he realized that they were missing one body, and frantically scanned the area. He found who he was looking for in a matter of seconds, back turned and already on his return trip to the mountain.

“Hey! Warden!” He hollered, and didn’t even need to make up any excuses this time, “Wait up! I’m s’posed to give you something for helping us!”

The man hesitated and only half-turned to respond. While his answer was clearly audible, it barely seemed like he was even raising his voice, “That’s unnecessary. I don’t require a reward simply for doing my job.”

Raz was vaguely aware of the startled breath that sounded behind him, but figured it was just because Hollis realized that the psychohazard was all but wandering away; he decided to stall for time and ran to catch up. “That’s how they said it works in town-- it’s not payment, it’s just, you know, gratitude for helping people out.”

Warden watched as he skidded to a halt, and then sighed. “I appreciate their kindness, but they don’t need to do any such thing.”

“Yeah, and they appreciate your kindness. See? It all equals out.” He tried, insistently offering the [?].

Finally, Warden accepted it, extending his psilirium-laden hand in order to move the cloth back look at what lay beneath. As he did so, a pained hiss sounded from behind Raz-- more than one, in fact-- and the man’s head shot up. His eyes were no clearer than ever, but there was an awareness in them-- the recognition of danger. Panic. Rapidly, he raised his cuffed hand to a temple and… vanished.

So it turned out that he knew how to teleport. That made this a lot harder.

“Razputin,” Hollis said, sounding hoarse, though that could have been a byproduct of the psilirium exposure, “Do you know who that was?”

“Yeah, that was the warden; he helps out whenever people get lost inside the mountain.” […]

“Maybe that’s how he was introduced to you,” [Otto], “But before that, he was one of ours-- an agent who went missing years ago.”

Shaking her head to dispel the lingering effects, Hollis looked from Raz to where the warden once stood.

“Agent Aquato, you just found the lost Agent Motif.”

(Pardon me while I perpetuate the joke about Raz being the best at finding missing persons, be they bodies, brains or something in between.)

---

Raz was pretty sure he recognized the name Motif. The most likely explanation was that he’d read it in a comic somewhere, but that didn’t help narrow it down; he’d gone through a lot of comics in his time, and couldn’t exactly go back and revisit all of them, since his mom family had little to no regard for the preservation of literature.

It must have been the name of a supporting agent, he thought-- either that, or maybe it had been in an advertisement for another issue that he hadn’t ever gotten his hands on. The specifics didn’t really matter right now; it was way more important to find Agent Motif again, and for good this time. It seemed like a pretty good bet that he went back to the mountain-- to Korona-- but it wasn’t as simple as going there and wandering through the tunnels until someone ran into him. Even if they went to the trouble of tracking him down, there was nothing stopping him from teleporting away for a second time.

It sounded like everyone had different ideas how to tackle that problem. Hollis had gone to talk to someone back at HQ hours ago, and Otto was tinkering in his field laboratory, trying to set up something that would inhibit Agent Motif’s powers without relying on psilirium to do the job. Lizzie hadn’t been there to meet him, but when brought into the fold, she’d scoffed and muttered something about lectures under her breath. That seemed a little extreme; it had just been a basic rundown of the facts, not [a lecture].

Raz was on his way to check in with Bob and Helmut again when a new voice caught his attention and-- without thinking-- he found himself wandering toward it.

“Hollis.” The speaker said, steely and without emotion, “What is going on here?”

He stopped just shy of getting a visual, and belatedly realized that this was definitely eavesdropping, but stayed put, too curious to walk away yet.

“We’re on a mission to retrieve a lost agent. You already knew that-- you had no interest in participating.” Hollis said back, utterly unmoved.

“Correct. I had no place in the effort to retrieve Helmut’s body.” The other person somehow both agreed and argued, “We both know that is not why I’m here now.”

“Then why don’t you do us both a favor, Emmet? Explain to me why you are here, just so we know we’re on the same page.” […]

There was a dull thud, only resonating for a split second, “My brother, Hollis. You explain to me why I found out about this through office gossip.”

“At a guess, I would say it was because you were listening in on communications channels again.” Hollis [said] dryly. After a second, she sighed, “This is why I didn’t contact you immediately; we have to get a handle on the situation first. I don’t have any doubt that was Ingo, but he’s not acting like himself, and we need to understand why before diving in.”

“You don’t think it’s the giant piece of psilirium on his wrist?” The man asked, flat but disbelieving.

“After your stint at Charlie Psycho Delta? No, there has to be something else.”

“Our defenses are best when we’re together. He won’t withstand it as well by himself.”

[something gives Raz away]

Both of them went silent, and, after a moment, Hollis called out to him. “Would you care to join us, Agent Aquato?”

Guiltily, he slunk around the corner and through the door. He made apologetic eye contact with Hollis, and then looked to the other person. All at once, the pieces fell together: the surname and given names, the long, worn coat he’d seen Agent Motif wearing, now that he could compare it to an undamaged version, the teleportation out of and into the base--

“You’re the Countertype Conductors,” He said, already raking his mind for everything he knew about the pair of sibling Psychonauts. Since their job was to get agents to and from their destinations, they usually only got passing mentions and cameos, but one of his guesses had been right on the money: Issue 57 of True Psychic Tales had teased a story about psitanium smugglers, and the splash page featured two identical men pressed back to back, channeling psychic energy between their own pointing hands and between one another. He hadn’t ever been able to read that [issue], but any mention of them he had seen was as a pair-- as the Agents Motif or, when a book was getting dramatic, the Countertype Conductors.

Agent Motif-- Emmet-- curled his lip into a grimace at the declaration, and then looked back to Hollis. “This does not get you off the hook. I want to be a part of this mission.”

“There is no mission yet.” Hollis told him, nodding briefly to Raz, “It was just today that Agent Aquato brought his findings to us; we’re in the process of gathering intelligence, not acting on it.”

Agent Motif looked at him again, considering. “Then our business has concluded, Agent Forsythe. Agent Aquato. I want to hear what you saw.”

“Emmet,” Hollis said, low and warning, “Is that really how you want to conduct yourself in front of a junior agent?”

He turned to look her dead in the eye and then, bluntly, declared, “I don’t care, Hollis. It’s been two and a half years. I am beyond caring what anyone else thinks of me.”

They stared at one another for a handful of seconds, neither backing down.

Eventually, Hollis narrowed her eyes. “Actually, I do have a mission for you, Motif. I want you to go speak with Agent Zanotto.”

“He has nothing worth saying. Not to me.” Emmet scoffed.

“No?” / “You don’t think the man who lost his partner has any insight into your situation?”

“No. I don’t. He lost another person. I lost part of myself. It is not the same.” He said, expression twisting in offense, “I am done with this conversation. If you have any useful information, tell me. Otherwise, I will handle the matter myself.”

A stony silence settled over them. Agent Motif shrugged and turned his back.

“You’re not leaving this base.” Hollis warned as he crossed the room’s threshold.

“You can’t stop me.” He said simply, which… was true. They were kind of hung up on how to prevent teleportation right now, without any of the tools from HQ.

Hollis grimaced as he walked away, and her eyes fell on Raz.

“I’m sorry about him, Razputin. It’s… too complicated to explain in full right now.” She pursed her lips in thought, and seemed to [give in], “Could I ask you to keep an eye on him for the evening? You don’t have to approach him again-- I’d actually avoid it, if you can. I just need to know that he’s not doing anything stupid while we figure out what to do about Ingo.”

[…]

“Ah.” He said, sounding less than enthusiastic-- and yet, what actually followed was, “Good. Aquato, I still need information from you.”

Yeah… Raz wasn’t exactly inclined to share, between what he’d seen earlier and the instructions to keep an eye on Motif.

“I don’t think I can tell you anything else. Hollis is probably your best bet.” He tried, thinking that might be enough of a deterrent for the time being, but Emmet just rolled his eyes.

“You do not have to tell me anything.” The man said, tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. For a second, it seemed like he would try to read Raz’s mind, but there was no pressure on the edges of his psyche.

“I don’t think that loophole works when everyone involved is psychic.” […]

Emmet snorted, but didn’t open his eyes. “You don’t have to think anything either.”

He was definitely manipulating some sort of psychic energy. Raz… thought he recognized it as Mental Connection, actually, but the application was completely different from the examples Hollis had used while teaching. It was a little closer to the functionality he got out of it, but there were still more differences than there were similarities.

“That works.” Agent Motif declared after a moment, and made an abrupt turn without opening his eyes. When he did tune back in to the real world, it was to shoot a glance Raz’s way, “I am sorry if this gets you in trouble with Hollis. Tell her I could not be reasoned with. It’s true. I will not tolerate any further delays.”

And, with that, he vanished from the premises.

Well, shoot.

---

The technique Agent Motif had used was, in fact, a branch of Mental Connection-- crossed with clairvoyance in this case. Hollis had given a very general explanation when Raz reported to her, but as fascinating as it sounded, there wasn’t time to delve into that right now. The combination of skills could be used to follow a trail, and there was little wondering where Emmet intended to go.

Raz had been the first to note that he must not have known about Mount Korona, otherwise he wouldn’t have needed to do anything but look out the window. With the confirmation that he was working with a dangerously small amount of information, Hollis decided they had to act immediately.

[…]

It was dim, but the light that did filter through suggested that it wasn’t always the case-- the cavern was dark right now because it was night, and during the daytime, visibility would have been much better. Because of the scant lighting, a number of features were visible: a vaguely circular [platform] in the room’s center, extending seamlessly from the floor, shelves of ice that were two inches thick and still crystal clear, putting their contents on full display, a frozen basin that somehow contained water, albeit with a thin sheet of ice forming on its top and, on the far side of the room, an uneven, knee-height platform.

It was the last [feature] that they gravitated toward, largely due to the fact that there was a person resting on it.

Agent Motif knelt down-- biting back a hiss at the cold that immediately seeped through his pants-- rested a hand on their shoulder, and gently shook it. There was a [startled] inhalation as the other man startled awake, and automatically raised a hand to rub at his eyes.

“Lady O--”

He stopped as soon as the sight registered; even though he’d only cracked one eye open, he somehow narrowed it as he tried to understand what he was looking at, and pushed himself into sitting up. The former Agent Motif looked one way, and then the other-- attention only barely flickering to Raz-- and even up before letting himself settle on the man in front of him. Haltingly, he raised an arm, dropped it, and then frowned at the result.

“You’re… not a reflection.” He said numbly.

Emmet visibly stopped himself from saying something, substituting a slow shake of his head.

The warden hesitated, the silence a blanket of snow obscuring his racing thoughts, and eventually added, “I know you.”

“I know you.” / “I missed you.”

His brother almost reached out, and then snatched his hand back, thinking better of it. It would have been confusing, if not for the way he tucked it into the coat he’d been wearing even in sleep, hiding the chunk of psilirium from immediate view.

Emmet let the hand braced on a shoulder drop, trying to coax it back out by tugging at a sleeve, “It’s okay. It won’t hurt me if we’re together. You’re safe with me.”

While its owner wasn’t convinced, he didn’t put up a fight. The arm slowly eased out, mirrored by a hand that reached over to press their palms together. Raz caught a hint of a wince-- the same expression that had crossed Emmet’s face when he’d first realized how cold the floor was-- but it didn’t stop the man from lacing their fingers together and leaning in until their foreheads touched.

Something must have passed between them, unspoken, because the warden flinched and Emmet raised his opposite hand to the back of his brother’s head-- not forcing him to stay, but steadying him and encouraging him to linger.

“It’s okay.” He repeated, forcing his voice into gentle tones, “I will not let anything else happen to you.”

---

Also, misc notes:

#submas #ihaveatheoryonthat pkmn #ihaveatheoryonthat psychonauts #writing scraps

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sneezygiant · 9 months

Text

Got a sudden burst of motivation. One shot with two random characters

A little over 1,000 words

Mess and a single bong hit

_________

Sammy was laying on his couch, eyes closed with a stupid smile on his face. Aimed at nothing. He was chilling with his best friend, Blade. Blade wasn't an average best friend, no- Blade was a mere three inches tall, and lying lazily on the bridge of Sam's nose.

Sam gave a lazily hum, blinking his eyes open, and stretching out his arms and legs. That led to him sitting up, of course followed by little protests from the borrower. Who had to right himself so he didn't fall right off of sammy's face.

"Hey! Warning next time? I could have fallen…and I was comfortable-you jerk!" Blade protested as he gave a harsh tug to the piercing implanted into the bridge of Sam's nose. Right between the brows.

"So wha' if ye fall off me face? Ye got wings, an' tha' cute itty bitty tail." Sam teased with a bit of a laugh, leaning over to pick up a gorgeous,glass bong that had been sitting on the floor.

Sam held the bong to his lips, fishing around the couch for a lighter, until he found one. A deep breath out, a click of a lighter, a deep breath in, and of course- more protests from the little man sitting atop his nose.

"So what if I have wings? I could have been asleep! You're just careless and I don't want to hit the ground!" Blade whined, poking a pointer finger into Sam's eyebrow.

Sam gave a snort of amusement, before giving a slight huff through his nose, blinking thrice heavily. The snort had pushed the smoke into the back of his nose, starting a teasing tingle.

"Ye snore like a , snf!, Like a black bear in tha' middle o' their wint'ah sleep." Sam tried to tease playfully, much to Blade's annoyance. Blade's tail gave a few upset flicks as the little man crossed his arms. That wasn't helping the tickle in the bigger's nose.

Sam quickly put his bong down, not wishing to break it. He gave a strong sniff, bringing a hand up to knuckle at his nose. Being mindful of the septum piercing he had. Blade started to put his situation together as soon as Sam's eyes got hazy with a distant look, and it wasn't because he was high. It was all confirmed when Same spoke up airily, breath starting to hitch.

"I'm..g-goon…nuuuuuh! Huuuuh!... Gonna…sn-snu…snf! Huuh…uuhH! Gonna sn-snee..snuuuuuh!"

Sam had tried to warn, but ended up trailing off as his eyes fluttered closed, chin tilting up. It was too late now, the sneeze was the only thing dominating Sammy's mind. Blade, and where he was sitting, momentarily escaping his mind.

The 'giant' huffed and puffed, pointed ears tipping down as he lazily brought up a hand to his face.

"Hey hey hey! You can't sneeze now! Stop!" Blade squeaked out in a panic, raising his wing to try to fly away, but it was too late. two more lazy hitches forced themselves out of Sam's throat, leading into a sloppy sneeze right into the palm of his hand. The action flinging Blade into the palm of his hand as well.

"Hiiih….huuUUH. HUH'DHiiih….huuUUH. HUH'DTSHEIIW! "

Fortunately for Blade, the sneeze had been dry. Unfortunately, Blade knew Sam wasn't done. Sam always sneezed in multiple, often odd numbers. Not to mention how mindless Sam could be. For these reasons, Blade tried to scramble out of Sam's hand as fast as he could.

Lady luck was not on Blade's side, as soon as he got the slightest bit up, he was met with a sneeze. A sneeze that misted spray onto the small man. Sam's sneezes were showing signs of becoming wet, and that definitely wasn't good.

"Heeeeh…heeh…snf! Huuuuh…HUUUH! HUH'DTSHIEEEW! snf…! SNF!....hiiih….HIIIIHH?"

"Turn your head away at least, you mindless beast!" Blade snapped, glaring up at his friend's pre-sneeze face. He knew Sam wasn't listening, consumed by the need to sneeze. Mouth slack, nose scrunched and starting to run, nostrils flaring as Sam took uncertain-itching breaths, eyes squeezed closed.

"HIIiiih! hhhhhh! HIH'TSHEEIIW!! Snnnnfff! Huh….huuuhh��.snf…..huuuh…snf…snnNNFF!"

A third sneeze, a wet sneeze, assaulted poor blade. The clear spray plastered his hair to his face, drenching his clothes; making them cling to his small body, as well as sodding his feathered wings. Trapping him until the itch cleared itself from his best friend's sinuses.

Blade just wanted Sam to stop sneezing, but the runny nose, distant look in his eyes, and all the huffing puffing, and sniffling Sam was doing, it wouldn't be likely.

"Snnnf…. Huuuhh…hhh!! Hiiih…." Sam's breath continued to hitch, his eyebrows knitting together as the sneeze momentairly played with him. He then abruptly gave two final sneezes, yet again onto the palm of his hand. Each wetter than the last.

"HIH'TSHIIEEW!!! huuuh….huuuh! hhuUHHHDSHHHEEEW!...snnnnff…guuhhh.."

The sneezes blasted out of Sam, him giving a sniffle,and a soft groan. Poor Blade was absolutely drenched in clear, warm slime, and he definitely wasn't happy about it. He stood up and purposely shook as much clear mucus as he could off his arms and wings.

The little man scowled up at his bigger friend, who still had a bit of a dazed look in his eyes, but that was just a post sneeze daze.

Sam also had mess running down his face unashamedly, strands over his parted lil, and drinking down his chin on just a few drops. Not to mention the utter mess in his hand. If he pulled his fingers apart they would have webbed.

"I'mb…snf! I'mb so sorry Blade, tha' smoke…made me nose….itch." Samuel apologized, a sheepish smile on his face, absentmindedly bringing his other hand up so he could swipe at his nose with his sleeve.

" Health." The borrower growled through clenched . "Now put me on the ground, I need a bath." Blade huffed, pointing to the floor to empathize his point.

Samuel gave a soft pout, feeling a tad guilty. He gave a nod and ever so carefully placed his buddy onto the ground, repeating "I'm sorry Blade" then mumbling "realla I am"

Blade marched to a mousehole, going in them peeking out again, softening just the slightest. "It's fine, you're just an idiot. I don't even know why I'm friends with you." The borrow said in an annoyed huff.

"Now clean yourself up and blow your nose!" Blade then slightly snapped before disappearing completely into the walls, going to go take a bath.

#sneezeblr #sneeze kink #sneezy #sneezygiant #snz #g/tsnez #g/tsnz #macro/micro sneeze #sneeze fic

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pastafossa · 5 months

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hi! i wanted to respond to your "where do i find other people into this thing" post. first, check out the app meetup, its awesome when it comes to finding events and gatherings around you. its made specifically for people trying to go out and meet new people, so you wont feel like an outsider. second, check the bulletin boards at your local coffee shop and ask baristas. third, check any independently owned craft shops about craft nights they host. fourth, go! to! your! library! fifth, facebook is a great place to find events near you ,despite how evil of a site it is. good luck!

I DIDN'T EVEN THINK OF MEETUP, THIS IS A GREAT IDEA! I really do want to make some crafty friends so we can all just sit and Make The Thing(s). I've never really had a (physical/non-writing) craft before wood carving, and I had a few friends in my last state I could do this with, and I really want something like that here but didn't know where to look. 😅

I didn't think about the local coffee shops either, I've got one down the street and ironically it's right near my local library! I need to check the shop's bulletin board, and fortunately I've looked and MY LIBRARY HAS A KNITTING/CROCHET DAY BUT ALL CRAFTS ARE WELCOME! So I'm going to try that on Monday! Finding a little indie crafting shop sounds neat too, I can poke around and see, along with cruising some FB events. That might work for woodcarving especially which tends to have older carvers who'd use FB more than anything else!

Thank you for these suggestions, they're incredibly helpful! 🥰🥰🥰

#i want to craaaaft!#this week i'll go down to the coffee shop and also look for some craft shops!#meetup is a good idea too i keep forgetting it exists 😂#honestly even just a nice general crafting group would be perfect! i don't even need it to be about carving!#i just want to make some friends and hang and make things!#thank you for these suggestions!

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miyu-writings · 1 year

Text

Forehead Touch

After the events on Galuna Island.

Pre-slash

Fortunately, after destroying the moon, the mages of Fairy Tail stayed with the demon tribe to the celebratory feast.

Erza was emitting some ominous vibes at first but she soon relaxed and started to have a good time.

Everyone did have a great time. There was music, food and drink and both relief and happiness were in the air.

The feast became a party, the ritual demon dance was performed to the excitement of the demons and awe of the mages.

The night only ended in the wee hours of morning and everyone turned in to their beds as the horizon was becoming a light grey.

The guests had gotten assigned into provisory tents, one for the boys and another for the girls.

Natsu was lying down but he couldn’t sleep.

He was tossing and turning – to no avail.

Happy, on the other hand, was laying down on his back. Content in his sleep and snoring lightly.

And Gray didn’t seem to be having any luck with sleep either.

“Hey Gray,” Natsu whispered, “are you sleeping?”

There was a pause and the movement on the other cot paused.

“I’m awake. But maybe you’d awakened me anyway.”

“Sheesh, what a grouch.” Natsu complained as he sat up, crossing his legs. “You need to sleep.”

Gray turned to his side so he was looking at the other and then sat up. “No shit, genius.”

Natsu pouted. Then he tilted his head to the side. “Why aren’t you, then?”

“I guess…” Gray let out a huff. “There’s too much on my mind.”

Natsu nodded.

“Are you thinking about the mission?”

Gray threw Natsu and incredulous look. It was his ‘are you dumb?’ look – Natsu was used to that look so it didn’t bother him.

“It makes sense.” Natsu mused. “What with Lyon and your Master and everything.” Natsu shrugged.

“And everything.” Gray echoed, subdued.

“But,” Natsu said, with his very optimistic – so much so that sometimes it could almost grate on one’s nerves – tone, “you’re not alone.” He punctuated his sentence with a finger almost poking at Gray’s sternum. “You have us all.” His smile had brightened and he got up and plopped himself beside Gray.

“I know that.” Gray turned his face to the side, ignoring the fire mage.

“No. Really!” Natsu slid his hand behind Gray’s head and pressed his forehead against Gray’s. “There’s us. And you have me,” he paused dramatically, “I’m always here to kick your butt.”

Gray leaned backwards and threw a half-glare at Natsu. But he couldn’t help the smile that had formed on his lips.

“Not if I kick your butt first.”

Natsu chuckled. “I’d like to see you try.” And he cheekily slid his hand onto Gray’s. Holding it tight. Gray allowed it.

It was then that sleepiness got to them and they curled on Gray’s cot. It was no novelty, sharing a bed. In no time they were fast asleep, cuddling.

They slept peacefully until the morning when Erza’s voice cut through the calm.

///

A/N: supposedly there would be a small fanart accompanying this but it's too shabby and I don't think I'm ready to inflict that on the internet yet.

Thank you jinx for reblogging a post that got me thinking.

#fairy tail fic #gratsu drabbles #gratsu

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alyjojo · 2 months

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March 🌞 2024 Monthly - Gemini

Preshuffle: You already know all you need to know about a situation you’ve gone back and forth on. Enough to start planning your next step forward. I’m getting you feel like you don’t but you actually do, even if it’s just intuitively, then you’re being validated in that case. A decision that’s being made is the right call.

Meditation: Omggg this video. Idk what it’s called, something with Candy Mountain, it’s one of the OG YouTube videos to not make any sense but go viral anyway. I choked on my coffee, the first thing I heard was “Candy Mountain Charlieeee” and I died ☠️ It’s been a long time. You could have a couple of excitable goobers (kids?) around you, ready for adventure, maybe getting on your nerves and purposely poking you if you’re grumpy. It should make you smile (or make you hide and take a looooong shower) 😶‍🌫️

Main energy: Wheel of Fortune

Yours is kinda similar to Taurus’s, you could have that in your chart too. Different but similar, they’ve already healed their past and Spirit is like “you’re next”. Wheel of Fortune is change, karma, things outside of your control, Spirit always moving in the background to help little serendipitous events aid you along the way, sending messages and sparking your intuition, whether conscious or not. This also feels like Jupiter, especially with Luck attached to it. That’s coming soon, this Wheel can show time, and before Jupiter moves into Gemini in…June? I think, you’ll need to let some old stuff go. 2 Wands is here with Discovery, your future is ahead of you, not behind you, exploring new possibilities, not the same old traumas ❤️

What’s going on in March:

8 Cups:

You’ve inevitably had to leave some things and people behind, and some things and people have left you too. For some this could be material, a house, a job, your favorite car, a lot of money, some actual 3D thing you can touch. It’s also inevitable you’ve had to leave behind some plans, maybe childhood plans. You always wanted to be a vet but never really wanted to go to vet school - now you’re a whatever-you-are, beating yourself up over not just being a vet. Contracts or partnerships may have left you in financial debt. Loneliness is at the bottom of the oracles, you lost people too. I see 6 Cups here and The Hermit rev, some of you may wonder if all is lost or can you bring the past back to life in some way? So far I just see the new is ahead, Discovery, looking forward. The past had some great times but it had a lot of pain too. And things have changed - Wheel of Fortune - how they needed to.

The Moon:

This is what you fear, what you can’t see, things that give you anxiety, because they are unclear to you. Whatever you lost, or left behind, had an opportunity come in with it - Ace of Pentacles. You couldn’t see that at the time, maybe you’re well on your way now. Moon Capricorn seems to mirror this Page of Pentacles, you left behind things that weren’t good for you, The Devil. Toxic even, had you in chains, wrapped you up in addictions or other unhealthy things that would’ve made things so much worse had they/you held onto them as it had been before it ended. This can be financial too, tied up in something that wouldn’t have given you what you thought it would - or hoped it would. Friends or people around you could’ve fit under these descriptions too, and it was unconscious to you at the time. Whatever has happened was for your benefit - or for a lesson. If someone or something has left - it’s to avoid a thing getting worse, or toxic, or it already was, that’s why it had to be this way. You could blame yourself or assume things that aren’t true but fit with a narrative you tell yourself - could be a fearful/paranoid one.

6 Cups:

Heavy nostalgia, old friends, the way things were, childhood, memories. You’re heavily connected to these things, maybe to the point of being lost in them. 5 Cups is deep sadness, regret, remorse, and being ruled by Scorpio, obsessive *fixation* on what’s been lost - not what’s still here. 2 Cups is still here. Someone or something you love, something very dear to your heart. But you focus on the loss, could be friends, plans, dreams, things you signed up for (or contracts you signed) that you wish you never would have because it kicked your bum later on. You can’t change it, and this is saying you’re only stuck if you keep yourself stuck. Maybe you have been on purpose. Practicality is here and again is mirrored with this Page of Pentacles - it’s like logic has been overcome by emotion and that’s what’s taking control or has for some time. It keeps you stuck. It’s possible you’ve gone through mourning something, not all but for someone this energy is very heavy, and if so I’m giving you a great big hug 🤗

10 Swords:

This row brings some depth to the pain you’ve felt, 10 Swords is betrayal, feeling stabbed in the back, maybe by several people - 5 Wands. Arguments and fights you’ve gotten into may have been due to toxic behaviors or old mindsets that don’t even exist anymore, but they’ve changed everything. You could regret a lot of things. For some there are literal contracts you regret, Commitment being the other Oracle specify binding contracts and Page of Pentacles shows the same thing here. Things your name is financially tied to, may not have gone well and left you in a lot of debt you’re trying to dig yourself out of. Could be a divorce you regret (or a marriage that ended in divorce), partnerships or agreements that ended in betrayal, bankruptcy, I’m seeing one of those Title Loan places, etc. Why couldn’t it be healed, or delayed a little longer? Why didn’t you apologize at the time or do xyz? For someone, there could be regret over sex, a soul contract even, wishing you’d never have even gone there. You’re also thinking of apologies & closure to things you’ve never gotten, and probably never will, for most. Things you never said. Heavy energy this month, but it all has a purpose in this reading - to feel it, hopefully start releasing it, and looking forward.

The Hermit rev:

Clarified by 9 Cups, you just want to go back to whatever specifically is on your mind. A person, a time period, the good old days, whatever the thing, you’re heavily fixated on moving backwards when Spirit is trying to move you forwards. Death follows, you can’t bring things back, and even if you did it wouldn’t be the same. You’ve changed! Wheel of Fortune. Others have changed too, everything has, we can’t even keep a business open over by me for more than a couple years nowadays, everything changes constantly, and seemingly faster the more time passes.

Advice: Can Gemini bring this thing back? 6 Swords…moving away from the drama of the past, taking your experiences, lessons, family, children, and all of the demons hovering in/around your mind & moving on altogether, because you have to. It’s leaving 5 Swords, bitterness, conflict, tit for tat energy, irritation at how things went vs how they could have. Caution at the bottom of the astro Oracle deck. But Wheel of Fortune with Luck is very positive, and so is 2 Wands, there is a lot to look forward to if you look ahead instead of behind. Discovery has an enthusiastic vibe, finding new things to fall in love with, new friends, new experiences altogether. People tend to only miss the past if the present isn’t that great, so what could be done to change right now - to recreate things you miss in a new way? Maybe you miss your old cat, but she’s gone now…you could get a new cat, or even something totally different that changes your life. A lizard, who becomes your best friend, who’d have thunk it? What’s something you’ve always wanted to do, you’re about to have the green light 🚦

Side note: It could be a good time to start playing the lottery, regularly 💯

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Pisces, Scorpio, Virgo & Sagittarius

Oracle: ✨

12 Truth 🦅

The eagle proudly surveys its domain from such a high perch that all pertaining to this situation are revealed. The shadows hide nothing from your keen vision. Once you can remove yourself from the muck that lower vibrations keep you in, you can attain a viewpoint that enables you to see the truth of the matter. This card advises you to search for the truth of the situation, regardless of the emotions it brings up. Are you or someone connected to you unconsciously suppressing the truth? Hiding from the truth can only intensify the lesson later on.

Commitment 🪢

Binding - Obstruction - Contract

Luck 🍀

Jackpot - Fortune - Reward

We enter into March as:

Rose Without Thorns 🌹:

“It is time to face my true feelings.”

You are most fortunate. As we mature, we learn that to enjoy the beauty of a rose, we must occasionally risk getting pricked by a thorn. You are not facing “the same situation”, this is the dawn of feelings being awakened and a new truth being born. You’re being presented with a different way to live. Trust you will know what to do. Stay open. Time changes us all if we’re lucky, it’s time to surrender and make the change. The best incentive to change is often love.

What is to be learned in March:

Sun Sparkler 🎇:

“Integrity is what turns on the light.”

Sun Sparkler reminds us that it is through kindness to others and being of service that we are abundant. Are you living your life as fully as you can? Are you being honest and kind to others? Do you hold the door open for people on the elevator, or let it close? Do you let people merge over in traffic, or pretend not to see them? When we put a blinder on one area of life, it creates the same blind spot in every area. You can’t shut out pain without shutting out pleasure too. Sun Sparkler reminds you of the miracle of honesty, it leads to integrity. You may have done work for another but do not expect a reward, revel in alignment with Spirit, self-esteem is the gift. You’ve been elevated to a new level spiritually, continue to serve others and life will prosper beyond your wildest dreams.

Yellow may be a lucky color 💛

#Gemini #astrology #monthly tarot reading #march 2024 #monthly #tarot

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plantplains · 2 years

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just a little something i whipped up for @fmrl-wndrlnd ! sorry if it sucks waa otherwise enjoy!

beel x gn witch reader!

fluff

typically, when it came to doing things, you’d prefer some help. but with witchcraft, this was something you preferred to do by yourself.

not that you’d dislike help, just the fact that half the time, none of the brothers knew what they were doing. you’d really prefer it if nothing got messed up when it came to something like this.

but it was hard to do anything by yourself when you always had someone watching over your shoulder. beel had taken a keen interest in your hobby, even after you told him you couldn’t manifest more food for him and the best you could do was make him a spell jar that could maybe bring him good fortune when it came to food (which he ended up agreeing to).

so typically while you worked, he poked around your room, asking questions about pretty much everything he saw. like, why your crystals were on the window sill, or why you had a bunch of jars filled with random stuff. he also always commented on the smell of your room, and multiple times thought you were waving a sparkler around when you were trying to cleanse your room with a incense.

so, today was like any other, except you were outside. it was frustrating when you learned that there was no sunlight outside so you couldn’t exactly recharge your crystals, but its the thought that counts. it was a little windy, but nothing harsh enough that would blow your things away.

sitting outside, you managed to arrange your crystals in a way that was aesthetically pleasing to you. you figured if you took them completely outside it might do something, also plus the fact you haven’t grounded, nor meditated, in over a month (which you didn’t realize until asmo commented on how stressed you looked).

just as you were about to begin, a presence behind you had you turn around. beel was making his way through the yard, trying not to trip on anything. when he saw you staring at him, he gave a shy wave before speeding up his pace.

turning back around, you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to get much done if beel was right there, probably distracting you. but, you always appreciated the company. even if he tried to eat most of the things in your room.

“why do you have all these rocks?” beel asked once he got himself situated next to you. “because i need to recharge them, but theres no sun so i’ve been having trouble doing so.” you swat at his hand as he tries to reach for one. “they aren’t edible.” you say, almost reading his thoughts. you practically tell him this every time he sees them. “what do they do then?”

one by one, you point out and explain what each crystal does for you. like how selenite can clear your aura, or how amethyst can help with anxiety. you had a little over 15 so it took a while, but when you reached the end, beel picked up a pink crystal that was all too familiar.

“ah, rose quartz..” you hum, almost feeling your face heat up. you have a handful of those, trying to bring some sort of action into your love life. but it was especially embarrassing because you had gifted multiple of these to beel, saying it was mostly for good luck.

“they just look pretty.” you lie, taking it out of his hands and observing it with your own as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“thats not what satan said.”

“what?”

you feel your heart drop, knowing that satan must’ve explained to beel why you kept gifting those to him. when you look at him, you can tell that his face is a little flushed. hesitantly you give the crystal back to him. beel didn’t elaborate any further.

“i suppose you could have this one too then ..” you say, shrugging as if it were no big deal. real crystals were strangely expensive in devildom, and just like in the human realm, plenty of vendors tried to pass off stained glass as crystals so it took a bit of digging to find the good ones.

“sure, since it seems to be working.” beel says, snapping you out of your thoughts. before you can say anything, he retreats back to the house. you sigh in relief that you two didn’t have to sit through a awkward moment. your face was still hot thinking about what he said, and you knew you’d have to scold satan later. but right now, you had other things you had to do.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me fanfiction #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #beel x reader #beelzebub x reader

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cloudbattrolls · 9 months

Text

Skyfall

Various Parties | Hanhai Cavern

Tuuya hung up on Platar, breathing a sigh of relief that he had agreed to destroy the Ozryel swarms’ eggshells.

It was the only chance they had of destroying them for good - and if anyone could do it, it was him.

They’d miss him, strangely enough. Even if he was a product of all the empire’s wretched discrimination, they still felt he was not entirely a bad man.

They closed their eyes for a moment. They couldn’t afford to delay long. They just wanted to take Kaningard in, one last time.

The distant sounds of scrabbling animals in the cavern. Their daughters, talking and arguing in the room over. The soft fabric on their skin, clothes they had made themself.

Ozryel had to die. Leave. Whichever.

By extension, so did they.

They opened their eyes again.

They began walking to their daughters.

If only they could say goodbye to their other children…but there was no time. Almost two hundred sweeps, so suddenly cut short.

But wasn’t it that way for everyone, in the end?

They’d brought enough death. They ought to face theirs with dignity.

They poked their head into the dining room.

“Hello, my dears…I hate to interrupt, but Uunive, I need you. Something urgent’s come up.”

Their tone and expression must have made it clear how urgent it really was, despite their attempt to sound calm, because their older daughter got up and went with them, no hesitation whatsoever.

Quickly, they took her to another room and explained the situation.

“It will be very dangerous, and I may not return - ” (they internally winced at the half truth) “ - and…”

They trailed off as they noticed the limeblood wordlessly reach out to touch the cave wall, grab a chunk of it with only the strength of her hand, and then crumble it.

“I’m coming with.” Uunive said, in a tone that brooked no disagreement.

Despite everything, Tuuya couldn’t help a proud but nervous smile from stealing over their face. Their darling girl. So strong and grown-up now.

Grown-up, and about to be alone again.

No. No time for pain. They had to keep moving.

“All right.” They said with a nod. “If you could call Kamala for me, while I gather our weapons…someone has to watch Ailene.”

Their human daughter was still recovering from the loss of her arm. Fortunately, one of their moirails was a docterrorist.

Uunive nodded, and the worm swarm bustled away to review their stock and pack as quickly as possible.

Smoke bombs? Check.

Their laser pistols? Check.

Uunive’s knives? Check.

Superheated blades and a few other emergency items? Check.

They looked at their work outfit, slung on a hanger in their closet, the one they often wore when going on jobs for Chimer.

They’d already altered it once, to accommodate their current body type…and they would alter it one last time, because damn if they would go down without a fight.

As they rolled back their sleeves, white worm tendrils sprung from their arms to work in tandem with their hands, scissors, needles and thread.

A few minutes later, they nodded at the result, satisfied, and changed into it.

Normally they would decry this skimpier style as ridiculous and impractical. For them it was ideal to have more skin to let out tendrils from, and it still covered much of their skeleton and what few organs they had.

With a few swift scissor chops, they cut their hair. Less to get tangled by the other swarms or for them to grab onto.

They’d take along their fireproof armor too. It had certainly saved their skin enough times…and they’d ask Uunive to use her luck psiionics to enhance their weapons too, just in case.

They could only hope they’d stay intact long enough to find and subdue Ozryel.

Hope, mused Tuuya as they went back to fetch Uunive and go, activating their small spaceship for the first time in ages.

Strange that they should have to give up hope that wasn’t even theirs.

That when they should despair, they instead felt calm.

What was there to worry about anymore?

—

Rivali pursed their lips as they saw a missed call from their old friend. Not an uncommon expression for the jade, but one currently laced with worry along with disapproval.

They tried to call Daudre, hanging up when it went directly to voicemail. Then they tried to call Vannyn.

“Rivali?” Said the worm swarm, surprised. “Ah - I’m a little busy right now, what’s -“

“Daudre called me, but left no message. Do you know anything?” They said curtly, cutting in.

Tuuya sucked in a hesitant breath. “Ozryel, Inshii, and Rhyssa invaded Hanhai cavern. Uunive and I are on our way.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“I’m coming too.” Declared the komondor troll.

“Rivali! I know you’re skilled, but you could di -“

The jade hung up on the undead’s panicked plea.

No one invaded their old home without them doing something about it.

Despite the miseries they had suffered under those narrow-minded old wretches, they were far from the only trolls there.

Daudre, the only friend they’d ever had at home. Ashwat, their lineage-mate, kept away from them for fear they’d be a bad influence on her.

Even the stuffy, rigid matrons who disdained their identity did not deserve to die in such a way.

They had fought Ozryel when she’d been in Tuuya’s body, and they had won.

As they checked their weapons and sent a message to Temasek cavern’s matron superior excusing their sudden absence, Rivali found themself eager for a rematch.

—

A short time later, the ship hovered some distance above the desert cavern’s entrance. Tuuya’s dark gray fingers adjusting and focusing the ship’s sensors to see if the other swarms had been bright enough to leave constructs to guard the entrance.

The answer seemed to be no, the pale sand below undisturbed by anything but the wind.

Still, Tuuya took them down slowly, laser cannons primed to fire. They weren’t keen on doing more collateral damage than they had to, but they also weren’t going to give the other swarms even the smallest chance to get in close.

They were glad of it when a massive wasp construct shot out of the sand, buzzing angrily as it got riddled with melted gaps from a round of white beams. The rest of it dodged and reformed before streaming further upwards.

Tuuya pulled the ship back up, g-forces pressing on the worm swarm and their daughter. They cooled the cannons; now it was time to use nature to their advantage.

They slowed a little, a tactic that would make most opponents suspicious, but Rhyssa hadn’t the brains the mother grub gave an ant. It only made her bear down harder as the small ship drifted into a cloud.

The lingering heat from the cannons caused gentle steam to waft around the vessel, cloaking it even further.

As the construct barreled within range on vast wasp wings, multiple wicked pincers extending from it, Tuuya released a little something they’d had Thrixe make for them.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have much of it. This would use up their whole stock.

The construct began to skitter and scratch against the ship’s windows, causing small cracks to splinter across the glass…and then went limp, helpless, rendered impotent by the fungus specifically engineered to feed on undead biological matter spreading through its tissue.

Tuuya smirked as they slowly took the ship down again, watching the massive white insectoid thing fall to the sand and scatter into pieces, going still as it died.

They landed, and satisfied nothing else would jump out at them, strode past the wreckage and the corpse riddled with gray fungus; fortunately, the substance became inert after it did its work, so neither they or Uunive were at risk.

“I cannot wait for the rest of you to perish.” They said lovingly to the splotched, broken body as they went by, stepping over a large segmented leg.

“I do so hope I’m there to see it.”

—

Hirudo panted as she faced down a room full of white butterflies, even though she didn’t technically need to breathe. If she got out of this, she was swatting every single one she ever saw again.

The fuchsia was covered in cuts, her already ratty lolita dress now basically in shreds, and Joey and Neffie were faring even worse as they stood behind her. One of the rustblood’s pedipalps had partially broken off, and Neffie was limping heavily.

Klirro had never arrived. Who the fuck knew why.

She felt their eyes on her as she hefted her heat gun defensively (it was nearly out of charge), but the swirling swarm didn’t attack.

Instead, it spoke to her.

“It would be a waste to kill you.” said some butterflies, pressed together with rapid constructs to make a faceless voice, but it still didn’t quite sound like a troll speaking. It was rustling and oddly-toned, vibrating at random moments and making some vowels in drawn out or overly clipped ways.

“You proved yourself useful to Rhyssa. She would have you dead for your treachery, but I think otherwise.”

Hirudo laughed sharply and without humor, the sound echoing against the stony cavern walls.

“You think I believe that?” She snarled. “You might be elders, but you turned even on Tuuya when they didn’t do what you wanted. I know what our lives would be like under you; I won’t do that to my coven.”

As she spoke, the leech rainbowdrinker swapped her heat gun for a grenade she pulled the pin from and flung at the ceiling in seconds, then grabbed her coven members and made a break for it.

She knew, as the butterflies dove for her in a massive fluttering of wings, she probably wouldn’t make it.

Either the rocks would get her, or the bugs would.

Maybe she could at least throw the others clear of -

A giant rope - no - a white worm tendril - snaked around her and yanked her to safety with sickening speed, pulling her out of the room in barely more than a second.

Barely conscious from the debris that had pelted her body, the razor proboscises that had freshly cut her skin, Hirudo wiped her face clear of blood and dirt with a shaking head.

She gazed up blearily at her rescuer as she was gently set down, Neffie and Joey tumbling out of her arms onto the rocky floor. They groaned as they slid down, Neffie hissing in pain from her bad leg.

Crashing and crumbling noises came from behind them, and while she felt the breeze of a few butterflies escaping, she could tell many had been crushed. The very floor of the cavern shook from the impact, and she knew it would be felt throughout the whole place.

Tuuya smiled down at her with that needle-filled mouth of theirs, and gave her an ironic salute. Uunive stood next to them wearing a hardened expression, prongs on her horns now, and the seadweller could hardly believe it was the same girl she’d kidnapped mere perigees ago.

Beetles hovered around her, for some reason. What…?

“There are matrons’ bodies in a room not far from here, ones we found already dead.” Said Tuuya with sadness. “Make use of them. Heal. Find Rhyssa and kill her, Inshii too if you can manage it. If my contact has succeeded in rendering the other swarms able to die…we will soon know.”

“What about you?” managed the highblood, coughing between words.

“I?” They said, amused, looking back as they already began to walk away, ragged crimson coat waving as they strode side by side with their daughter.

“I’m here for Ozryel.”

—

After the cacophony of the explosion, it was almost eerily quiet in the cavern. Inshii had fled elsewhere, not hanging around to attack the worm swarm and the lime drinker.

Jade blood lay messily spattered across the ancient sandstone passages Tuuya and Uunive descended quickly, heading for the mother grub - and something of equal value.

“The matriorb…” Tuuya said, picking up a conversation they’d had on the ship. Uunive had mentioned feeling certain that the mother of swarms would try to use it for some terrible purpose.

“I can’t imagine why Ozryel would want it, but who knows? I remember when I got ahold of it…it seems so long ago. At first I worried I might be getting tricked, but no, it was a real one. Real enough to earn you a place here…”

They sighed, looking around at the ravaged cavern.

“I hope there are still jades to save. I hope it dearly.”

“There will be.” Uunive said firmly, her beetles fluttering around her.

“Tutu, think. She invaded this place to do something. Maybe it had to do with me, but that can’t be the only reason. She has to want at least some of them alive.”

Tuuya nodded. They had no idea if that was true, but there was no point in arguing, and all they could do was try.

A dying groan and wail came from the cavern ahead, and both undeads’ eyes widened as they sprinted toward it -

- in time to see Ozryel finish slitting the mother grub’s throat by dragging her claws across the exposed paleness, jade blood gushing out of the vast grayish white carapace. It pooled across the floor, flooding over toward the other two undead.

Tuuya wailed, a wretched noise more beastlike than troll, and Uunive yelled in rage.

Ozryel laughed as her strange wings lifted, bird-shaped yet diaphanous in nature. Of course the wretch had white hair as a troll, and pincers at the edges of her mouth. What a lovely family resemblance to her children.

Green eyes. Solid green, the same color as their own irises.

Tuuya’s hatred suffused their every worm as their insides writhed, the swarm eager to kill.

Not eager to die. Resigned nonetheless.

They lifted their laser pistols and began shooting at the ancient creature as she soared up and away, laughing mockingly as she dodged the daggers and laser fire.

–

Rivali had taken a juvenile roc lusus as transport, quickly rigging it with a saddle and throwing on a helmet paired with goggles.

Not strictly with cavern permission, but Hanhai desert was a suitable enough environment for one to spend some time in. It wasn’t big enough to do any major damage, and the local towns were scattered apart some distance from the cavern.

Besides, this was an emergency. They could apologize, do paperwork, and pay the fines later.

The real challenge had been getting the thing to put them down (mostly) safely, but a few bruises were an incredibly minor price to pay for the speed of travel; though at least Temasek wasn’t too far away.

They primly dusted themself off, the roc promptly ignoring them as it looked about for food.

Much as they longed to rush down into their old home, the komondor troll was wary as they entered the tunnels, ears pricked and eyes open for any wretched bloodsucking insects. At the slightest flash of white, they’d have their heat gun trained on it.

They hoped the creatures weren’t disguising themselves as trolls. They would be more difficult to identify quickly…but why would they bother? Much as Rivali hated to admit it, the lack of guards and no sight or sound of anyone so far probably meant the place was already in their grip.

They heard whimpering, and froze.

They peered around the stone corner.

A few jade wrigglers in gray and black uniforms huddled in a hall, and the oldest couldn’t be more than five sweeps, with the youngest perhaps three.

Above them hovered a small cloud of white wasps, making a low buzz.

Rivali waited, wondering why they hadn’t been attacked, then realized: insect eyes weren’t very good, and the light was low. The only illumination underground from the wasps’ own mild glow and the glass-encased torches on the walls, one of which had been smashed and damaged. They were already clad in their sleek white armor, lightweight to allow freedom of movement, but still offering some protection.

They couldn’t shoot at the swarm fragment right now, not with it so close to the girls.

So they picked up and threw a rock over it, the movement making the wrigglers jump and the wasps rise up in a small, angry funnel, zipping toward them.

Rivali fired.

The heat spread in a burst, melting most of the wasps into white drops dotting the tunnel floor. The few that escaped were dispatched by the flash of their blades, swiping the creatures apart and smearing the last one against the wall with a ringing clang.

The wrigglers huddled together, still scared, though the oldest held a knife in a shaky hand. She stood in front of the others to shield them.

“Wh-who are you?” She said.

“Rivali Tescin.” Said the older jade, not looking at her, already moving on. “Hide somewhere. This will take a bit.”

–

Outside the cavern entrance, one last being had come. Only to witness the curling strands of conflict, not to fight.

Still, she had promised her coven aid. This was not the time when they died.

There would only be two deaths today. She was fairly certain of it.

With red spiral eyes Klirro watched the solitary white butterfly that watched her in turn, and smiled with a mouth full of jagged teeth.

“Inshii.”

Others came to join it, making a throat and voice.

“Klirro.”

“You are not really in this with your whole feeling, are you?” She said gently, lovingly. “You spiral inwards and inwards, not even guarding your sister, letting my coven escape.”

“I assist my mother as she asks.” Said the butterflies in their flat, rustling voice.

“Only as she asks.” Murmured the horrorterror.

Spirals had already started to weave themselves through the tan grains, filling the sand with patterns between the tall, thin undead’s feet. Hot winds blew around and around her, stirring her short hair.

“I ask you, Inshii the butterfly: retreat.”

The butterflies stared at her with their myriad compound eyes, antennae twitching as their wings endlessly beat.

“If I refuse?”

Spirals of twisted, dried organs lashed out at the butterflies, holding them in the air, warping the air so it was solid, angled, like glass, then like liquid, pouring in on each other, physical laws breaking down with spirals of crimson energy.

Klirro laughed. A light, normal laugh, as she held out her open palms under the blaring light of the sun.

“Then you can never refuse a single soul again.”

Inshii, for the first time in millennia, felt fear.

The last of the DeVilles smiled wide, stretching the muscles and bones of the corpse she inhabited.

Yes, Ozryel might be an incarnation of death.

But the second worm had come, and death was due a reckoning.

END

#cloud writes #children of ozryel #etuuya vannyn #uunive semreh #klirro #rivali tescin #inshii #god this thing is a monster. 3.1k #but it had to be

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