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wandsandwheezes · 4 years

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Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH1

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff.

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

He was giving you that look. not the look, that look - the one that told you to stop doing what you were doing. It wasn't often that you'd layer it on thick for the press, making sure that you're giggling as you press your hand to his chest. With each flash of a picture you make sure you're striking a different pose. It was hard work being a liar, but it was even harder work without the publicity you gained.

Your Publicist Cheryl or 'cherry' as she begged you to call her, had devised her own scheming plan to generate not only some amazing press for you, a well established quidditch player, but also some well-needed hype and sales for Fred Weasley's shop. After all, it's not every day that London's best quidditch player was dating Infamous Fred Weasley, Gryffindor Star beater and all-in-all stellar man. The plan had been well and truly in action for just over four months, With Fred the main face of the shared brand with his brother George, it felt like the best option according to Cherry.

You were leaning into Fred, answering press questions about the latest win, how you were feeling about the upcoming game and, of course the all too regularly asked update on the relationship. You were 'very happy with a man like Fred', he was smiling down at you, gushing sappily "She may be the best Seeker in the game, but my god is she a keeper." The line made you sick to your stomach, When Cherry had pitched it to you both, you were groaning in disgust, but as she pulled the lollipop from her bright red lips with a pop, staring at you with raised eyebrows, you knew it had to be done.

As the interview began to wrap up, you thanked the photographers and journalists, grabbing Fred's hand and interlocking your fingers with a beaming smile, you made sure the cameras could see, after all the last issue of the Daily Prophet branded it as a 'winning smile'. You were escorted away from the press, once out of sight from them, your hand dropped from Fred's grip. "Well done for not making that so not obviously fake." you quipped at him, going to pull your coat on and check your phone for any messages. He laughed, imitating your voice, "Oh, Fred, you're so handsome, won't you just kiss me right now?" You scoffed, throwing your bag over your shoulder. Your phone had three messages when the screen had lit up, your stomach feeling like it had butterflies when you noticed the name.

>> Do I get to see my beautiful girl later?

>> I got your favourite for dinner.

>> I miss your lips already

You felt like the luckiest girl alive in his presence, he made you feel like a princess - a queen even, with every night you spent with him. It all started at Hogwarts for you two, after all, It's not often you get to see the best Slytherin seeker and the Gryffindor star beater together. It really wasn't often because you'd been hiding your relationship for that long. He taught you quidditch skills that got you to where you are today during late, late night practices, often ending with makeout sessions on the grass as you straddled his hips,giggling into the bitter Scottish air.

You fell in love with George Weasley as a teenager, and for 6 years you had kept your relationship a well-guarded secret. Even through the war, you kissed each other goodbye, praying that it was only a see you later. You knew that one day you would marry the gorgeous man you loved so dearly. You tried to persuade Cherry, who had and still has no clue about your true relationship status, for it to be George you had a public relationship with, but she quickly shut the idea down because George was 'too quiet'.

<< I miss you so much Georgie… heading back to the shop with fred now

<< btw I'm staying over tonight, I won't suffer another night without kisses :'((

>> Just kisses? ;)

<< Shut up.

<< I love you xx

>> I Love you too, babygirl xx

>> Daddy can't wait to see you <3

George stood lazily, arms draped over the balcony as he was smiling down at his phone like a muppet. He was so head over heels with you that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. George wasn't mad that you had to fake date his twin, after all, he'd rather it be Fred than some random quidditch man, or worst of all, Krum. He knew and recognised how important it was to your career plus, what good businessman turns down the opportunity to rake in some sales? It hurt to read the papers sometimes, seeing how much attention you both got together, a part of him wished it was he who got to show you off.

When you entered the shop, you caught George's eyes immediately, a bashful smile spread across your face, immediately feeling like a schoolgirl again in his presence. Fred sulked off to his office, leaving you to browse the shop until your driver arrived to take you to team practice. You were browsing the upper back wall of products when you felt his stare on you, he was meters away from you and you ached to draw him in for a kiss. You reached out to him, making the grabby hands that he couldn't resist, he checked over his shoulder, seeing nobody, before waking over to you, he pulled you into a quick and needy kiss by your neck, his other hand finding your hip.

"I'll be home after practice," you mumbled between kisses. It was common for you to travel to his via floo, arriving at the place you truly called home, leaving a vacant and empty flat behind. He shook his head, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. "Too long to wait," he laughed softly, his lips pressing to yours again, you were just about to deepen the kiss when you heard Cherry yell out, "Y/N let's go or you'll be late for practice!" You sighed, leaving your boyfriend behind, fingertips being the last thing to separate as you walked away, leaving him dumbfounded.

Practicing with your team was always a long, tough grind, your captain worked you hard and she knew it was all for the best, she was due soon to step down from her duty as captain, leaving the team in your hands, so you felt like you were learning double constantly. The warm water running down your skin made you crave George's touch even more, pushing the thought of Fred's hand on your hip out of your mind completely, you simply couldn't wait.

When you arrived home, George, as promised had your favourite dinner ready for you. He was an amazing chef, using muggle techniques and tools to help create the perfect dishes without the need for magic. You shrugged off your jacket and bag, relaxing into the dining table chair as George brought out your bowl, his hands were massaging your shoulders as you ate, "Aren't you gonna eat, Georgie?" you questioned him, he smirked, "I've been waiting for you to get home so I could have my favourite." George was on his knees, hands reaching up to pull down your leggings, you lifted your hips up, allowing him to drag the material down each of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders,

You knew exactly what he was doing, your hands found his hair and he tutted, breath fanning over your pussy as he looked up at you. "I made your favourite for you, Princess, You always liked it when we eat together." His tongue darted out to lick over your covered slit, feeling you already wet through your underwear, he hummed in appreciation, his teeth pulling the material to the side before attaching his lips to your clit.

Every time he hummed against you, it made you shake, the task of eating dinner becoming more and more strenuous, as you struggled to swallow down the food while he was pulling such sinful moans from you. George's skilled tongue was fucking your cunt, swallowing everything he could like it was the last meal he'd ever eat, and godric did he think you tasted divine, his thumb came up to circle your clit slowly, bringing you closer and closer to the ege.

Thing is with George, he doesn't stop till he's got what he wanted. "Finish your dinner, baby," he smirked, a long finger slowly teasing your entrance, "I'm not finished until you are too." he was a determined man, by your second orgasm you could hardly hold up your fork, but nevertheless you soldiered on, managing to swallow the last piece just before number three hit, your legs were shaking and you were moaning incoherent sentences. That was possibly the best meal of your life, your weak legs could hardly hold you up when you tried to stand.

George pulled you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed where he found your favourite shirt of his, helping you change into it, he left to make you a cup of tea, bringing it into the bedroom for you. sitting contently beside each other.

George's phone buzzed on the side, he read the message from fred. Laughing before showing it to you, the irony all too funny for him to resist.

>> George, if only you had to do this… Fancy swapping places at the product launch on Saturday?

<< Love to, but I'm not sure that's how the whole twin thing works.

>> With an ass like hers, I don't mind it too much… shame, she seems like your type.

The last text from him made george both laugh and be angry at him sexualising his girl. You laugh, pressing a soft kiss to your boyfriend’s jaw before taking a sip of your tea, "He doesn't know George."

He hums a little bit before typing a reply.

<< It really is a shame, she does have a nice ass.

You scoff, rolling your eyes - Men.

///TO BE CONTINUED/// Chapter Two >>>>>

Taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #george weasley fic #harry potter #mutuals innit #weasley twins #fred weasley #harry potter fic #fred weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #harry potter smut #harry potter writing #Fake It Fic

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trashytummiez · 4 years

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Professor Sickly

@squidbiscuit drew an amazing Professor Kukui feeling nauseous and burpy. So you know that means I have to write something for it. ;3

Kukui had a pretty strong stomach. Even before they were married, Burnett was always awestruck at how much her dark skinned husband could eat through. But Kukui was also a man of varying tastes, and sometimes that meant eating new things that didn’t always agree with him.

He was sitting weakly up on their couch. His usual friendly and confident smile was replaced with a sickly, groggy frown. Kukui’s labcoat, hat and shades were gone. He just sat there shirtless and huffing nauseously with his hand over his mouth and salivating a little more heavily than usual. Next to him was a bin just in case.

Kukui’s stomach was gurgling oppressively. It was a loud and really acid-heavy gurgle that made him cringe when it rumbled forth. He wrapped an arm around his middle and slumped forward with his hand over his mouth nervously, as if he was willing himself not to puke.

“Ungh, ohh god...”

“Poor baby,” Burnett said sympathetically when she arrived and rested the side of her hand against Kukui’s forehead. His half-naked body was visibly sweaty. He certainly felt warmer than usual, but not feverishly so. “Had to have been something you ate earlier. Where’d you go?”

Kukui held a finger up to pause the conversation and pushed his fist against his lips with a miserable look on his face. There was a loud gurgle erupting from his stomach, which made him cringe even harder. He grabbed the bin and brought it to his mouth. Kukui spat a few times into the bin but otherwise, nothing came up his throat except for a bit of drool.

He blew off to the side. His breath was warmer and tasted grosser than usual. He tried sniffing to get a clue of was causing him so much intestinal distress but it told him nothing except that he could probably use a mint right now. “I don’t remember what I ate. I just know that it probably tasted a lot better going down than it will coming up...”

Kukui was a bit of a glutton. Burnett decided a while ago that whenever he got himself sick from eating too much that he’d have to ride it out since it was his own fault. But Kukui’s stomach was flat. It stuck out a little because of his nausea but this time, Kukui didn’t pig out the way he always did.

Besides, usually when Kukui ate too much and was whining in bed, Burnett would think it was more funny than anything else. Seeing him sick and suffering wasn’t fun at all.

So this time, she took pity on her goodnatured husband.

She sat down on the couch next to him and started rubbing his aching, churning belly.

Kukui sighed softly and leaned back a little as if leaning into his wife’s magic touch. He huffed shakily while Burnett rubbed his churning stomach in soft circles. Nausea came in waves. He would occasionally bring a fist to his mouth and puff out his cheeks. Kukui looked like he needed to burp really badly, but there was this look of uncertainty in his eyes. He was trying to softly release the pressure in tiny intervals because he was scared if he didn’t, he’d puke right there on the spot.

Burnett continued taking care of Kukui’s tummy. She gently pushed her fingers into his soft warm flesh, stroking the area around his belly button especially, from that smooth patch of flesh above it down to the area where his happy trail would’ve been if he had an ounce of hair on his tanned stomach. Kukui took in deep breaths that made his stomach expand a little until he exhaled the air.

“And you wonder why I’m not as eager to always ‘try new things’,” Burnett teased while she stroked her husbands aching belly.

Kukui managed a weak smirk and lightly nudged his wife in the arm, trying not to move too much and upset his stomach even more. “...Can’t eat spicy curry forever...”

“Watch me,” she responded and continued to run her palm gently across the surface of his smooth, soft stomach, making sure not to press down too hard. Kukui’s stomach was usually a little firmer. After all, there was a reason he always rocked around bare chested most days, he was in great shape. But the distress within his gut caused some mild bloat, softening his stomach to the touch and making it feel more delicate than usual. Meaning she had to be extra careful with it while she rubbed.

She felt her husbands stomach quiver inside as it churned and tightened itself into knots that made Kukui recoil in a sickly manner. She shushed the poor young professor and massaged his tummy with her whole palm, rubbing it like she always did when they cuddled at night. It was a familiar feeling to him that always brought Kukui comfort.

He was still sweat heavily and looked like he was one wrong movement away from puking intensely, but the tummy rubs certainly helped him ease up just a little bit. And apparently, the gut rubs were doing something because it loosened his twisted stomach up. Enough for Kukui to actually muffle a pretty deep burp into his fist. He blew away from his wife and groaned a little.

That gave Burnett an idea.

She got up from the couch and headed back to the kitchen. There she grabbed a large cup and poured some ginger ale into it. Kukui kept his fist hovering around his mouth, his cheeks puffing again as he blew out nauseously. By the time Burnett arrived, another gas bubble worked its way up and this time Kukui couldn’t hold it in.

oooooOOOOOOOORRRRRP!!!

Kukui let go a deep burp into his fist that got a little louder at the end. Burnett smirked when she returned and teasingly said, “Heh, charming.”

“Ungh, sorry, huh...” the sickly professor muttered, still looking plenty green.

But Burnett simply leaned over and felt his sweaty forehead again with the back of her hand and said, “Don’t be. Sounds like your tummy really needed it.” Which was why she handed her husband that ginger ale cup she was holding. “Drink this. It should help get some gas out and settle your tummy a little bit.”

Kukui’s face soured. He really didn’t want to put anything else in his stomach when it was churning so painfully. But one look at his wife’s assuring smile and he was in. He took the cup and looked down into it, seeing the bubbles rise and pop endlessly. No doubt, the inside of that cup wasn’t dissimilar to what was going on in his belly right now.

Burnett sat down and rubbed Kukui’s stomach some more as he proceeded to drink the soda. He closed his eyes tightly as the bubbly liquid poured down his throat with some tentatively big gulps. Kukui looked miserable when he drank, but he went along with it. Already his stomach was becoming a little more reactive with the introduction of all that carbonation pouring into his gut.

A ways into the cup, he pulled it away from his mouth and exhaled in a strained sort of way. He slumped forward a little bit and it felt like a wave splashed inside of his belly. Then Kukui burped. And it was a big one too.

BwruuuUH-OOOOOOOUUUUUUUURRRP!!!!!

Kukui’s eyes widened as he tried to hold a hand around his mouth while that big eruption rolled out of him. Burnett’s hand was still rested against Kukui’s belly. She could literally feel that one rumble out of her husband.

“Wow, that was...louder than I thought it was gonna be,” Burnett said, surprised but a little amused. “Feel better at least?”

Kukui clenched his eyes shut and held a finger up. Then he hit his bare chest a few times to work another grizzly burp out of his throat, followed by a weaker one after. He exhaled heavily and slumped forward a little.

“Oooohhh god,” he groaned weakly, but sighed in a way that sounded relieved after. He rubbed his face with exhaustion and said, “I’m sorry for being so gross, hun, but...whew...”

Burnett simply smiled and very gently patted his belly. “That just means it’s working. Don’t worry about being gross or not. Just drink up.”

Kukui wasn’t one to disagree after the hint of genuine relief he felt so he drank some more ginger ale. With that big gas bubble out of his belly, he downed his drink a little faster while Burnett continued rubbing his belly to help circulate the excess air inside. The more Kukui drank, the more she could feel his stomach get just a little bit bigger from all the carbonation filling him up.

After getting the rest of the soda down, Kukui set the cup aside and almost instantly burped so hard that Burnett almost thought the couch was rattling. Kukui gasped, it almost took his breath away. He leaned forward a little, grasping at his knees when he burped again. Kukui burped really deeply after that, as in there was a lot of rumble to it, like the ones that came directly from his chest.

Burnett climbed up and sat directly behind Kukui since he was slumping so far away from the cushion of the couch. She leaned right up against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist until both of her hands were squarely planted against his turbulent stomach. “Good boy. Get it all out,” she insisted, digging the tips of her fingers just a little firmly into his belly.

In response, her husband let rip a really raunchy burp, one that sounded especially guttural and caused him to drool a little, which ended in a weaker burp. But then she squeezed a little against his stomach and he proceeded to tense up momentarily before a huge, gassy burp exploded from his very depths.

BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUPH!!!!!!!!

That one had to be a record. It was so incredibly loud and stretched on for a few seconds straight. Burnett could feel Kukui’s entire body reverberate with that one.

Kukui slouched almost lifelessly and sighed heavenly with desperately needed relief. “Haaah...oh my god, that...that’s so much better...” he said, comfortably patting his belly with relief. It was still gurgling but it wasn’t nearly as aggressive as it was moments ago.

“I think this is the part when you say ‘excuse me’,” Burnett joked.

Kukui only burped in response, which to his credit, got a good laugh out of his wife.

#kukui #professor kukui #pokemon #burnett #emeto #nausea #burping #belly rub #indigestion #stomachache #comfort

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liddolwhynot2000 · 4 years

Text

For You

____________________________________

Summary: Humanity's Strongest Soldier had quit the military. For you.

Pairing: Levi/Reader

Genre: Levi in looooveee, liddol angsty, happy ending, drama, dad!Levi

Words: 3.3K

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[Note: This isn't a direct sequel to 'Falling'. But it falls in the same universe. If you want to read about how Levi met and fell for reader in this universe, check out my story Falling.]

____________________________________

'Levi what are you doing here-'

'I'm about to hold our daughter.'

'I can see that darling, but you're supposed to be at work. '

The short man didn't bother answering you, instead opting to pick up your two year old daughter. Little Kutchel squealed in delight, happily chanting 'papa'.

'Mamaaa.'

You felt a tug at your skirt, your one year old son was clinging to you. Farlan whimpered, his hands raised high, clearly wanting you to pick him up. With a sigh, you did so and realized he needed a diaper change.

'I'll be back in a few, and then we'll talk.'

Your only response was Levi complaining about how 'brat-the-first needed to stop drooling so much' as he raised a giggling Kutchel high in the air.

....................

Usually, once you managed to put your beloved children to sleep with a lullaby, you gazed at them in awe, affectionaly tucking them in. Both of them took after their father completely, his black hair and steel eyes. Farlan's hair was almost the same as Levi's, much to your amusement. Kutchel was a rather active and loud baby while Farlan was a little on the quiet side. You usually missed Levi on nights like these, wishing he could visit more. Tonight, however, you felt more uneasy rather then happy at his sudden presence.

'I quit.'

'You what?'

You couldn't believe your ears, surely you had heard him wrong.

'You heard me. I. Quit.'

'But why?'

No matter how hard you tried, he wouldn't give you a straight answer. No amount of questioning or pouting would work on him. In the end, he strolled up to you, rough hands gently holding your upper arms.

'Look, I had my reasons. Things got unbearable for me and-'

'But don't they need you-'

'They should have thought of that before. Now listen, I've already got another job lined up, so we don't need to worry about moneu-'

'But Levi, I still don't understand why you-'

'Just trust me. It's messed up shit.'

Looking into his eyes, the same eyes you had hopelessley fallen for all those years ago, you gave in. Of course you trusted him, how could you not? You wouldn't have married the man otherwise. ____________________________________

Things began to change as you got used to seeing Levi everyday. When the two of you had met, you had worked as a cook for the garrison engineers living near the Survey Corps Headquarters. Back then, seeing each other daily hadn't been an issue. But after getting married and having kids, you had moved into his house in the nearby village. It meant less time together as a family, but you had wanted your children to have stability.

You sat on the couch, well more or less laid on the couch, watching Levi entertain your children. All three of them of them sat on the floor, with toys scattered everywhere on the carpet.

Farlan played with some blocks, happily gurgling as he tried to figure them out. Kutchel, on the other hand, busied herself with Levi.

You could only laugh at the sight of Levi's deadpan expression as Kutchel climbed all over him. Neither of had seen it coming, but your babies had inherited the Ackerman strength ten fold. Holding up their necks extremely early, climbing out of their cribs, easily lifting things that were too heavy for normal babies.

When Kutchel had been seven months old, the two of you had woken up to find that not only had she escaped her crib, she had managed to climb into your bed and cuddle with Levi. Although befuddled, the sight of the two of them had been heartwarming beyond words, and you hadn't been overly cocnerned.

Her displays of unnatural strength had been, well, less then pleasant for the two of you. It had put you on guard. The near heart attack you had suffered through, when your one year old baby girl had hauled up one end of the sofa with her teeny tiny hand, while trying to get a toy that had gotten stuck there, had almost been too much. Levi had been torn between horror and amusement at the time, before intervening. And well, both of you preferred not remember how Farlan had smacked his tiny fist against the brand new wooden table during a tantrum and caused it to collapse.

'You brats will eat sitting on the goddamn floor for the rest of your lives now. I don't have the money to buy a table if your just going to-'

'Levi, they're just babies, let them be-'

'Oh I see, so we're selling your kidney to buy a new table-'

'Darling don't be so dramatic-'

Kutchel and Farlan merely ignored their irate father, babbling as they played with their toys.

The Ackerman strength was hereditary, the two of you had concluded. Hange had theorised that with every new generation, that unbelievable strength only grew, to the point that they could access it at an extremely young age. It was manageable for now, you mused to yourself, but it wouldn't be long till Levi would have to train them lest they hurt someone by accident. You got off the couch and slid to the floor, cooing to your son. Levi was scowling as he held Kutchel at arms length.

'Stop trying to rip my hair out, you brat.'

Kutchel leaned towards him while babbling. Levi allowed her little hands to rest on his cheeks, his expression softening at her grin.

'Wuv Papaa.'

You beamed at the sight, before turning your attention back to Farlan. He had been avidly bashing two blocks together and would burst out laughing at the sound. You gently caught him before he fell from the force of his laughter.

It had been a while since the two of you had been this peaceful.

...........

When the two of you had managed to put your babies down for a nap, you remembered some things that you needed to buy. Rushing out, you went to the market, hoping the shops you needed to go to weren't too packed today. Much to your suprise, during your excursion, you saw some of the Survey Corps members. You recognised them as the Special operations Squad. While you weren't necessarily friends with them, you did know their names.

As if reading your mind, one by one, they all caught sight of you. Another day, they would waved at you and maybe approached to help woth the bags. However, there were no signs of those friendly expressions today. In fact, you couldn't help but notice how they were looking at you. It made you feel as as if you had been the Colossal Titan that knocked down Wall Maria and ruined their lives. The ginger haired girl, Petra, was the one who really caught your attention. She had looked oddly guilty, and as though she was apologising with her eyes for a moment, before copying her comrades sullen expressions.

Startled and beyond confused, you opted to walk away from their line of vision. Your fears, that you had hoped were baseless, were slowly being confirmed. Levi quitting the military hadn't been well recieved. And if the way his former squad had looked at you had been any indication, they thought you had something to do with his decision.

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Kutchel had been particularly fussy that night, unwilling to go sleep.

'Pway!' she had cried out, struggling in Levi's arms. It had taken a while but soon enough you were lying in bed, both your children deep asleep as you tucked them in blankets. The two of you had been exhausted, so when you heard the knock on the door, a very irritated Levi had quietly gone to check it out.

When he didn't return for a while and you heard muffled noises, you silently went to check on him, stopping short at the door at the sound of Petra's voice.

'-captain please reconsider-'

'Petra's right captain, we need you-'

'That's enough.'

They all straightened up.

'I'm no longer your captain-'

They all deflated, looking ready to argue. Levi held a hand up to silence them.

'I wish you all well in life. Don't involve yourself in this. This is between the higher ups and I.'

'Captain, we know this is because of your-'

'None of you know shit. Focus on going your damn jobs and minding your own business. Now leave.'

Olou, Petra, Gunther and Eld looked despondent as they made to leave.

'Petra-stay back for a minute'

All of them look surprised and curious, but didn't bother asking questions and left. They figured Petra would tell them what had happened later. The conversation took a weird turn you hadn't quite expected.

'You have some nerve coming all the way to my house after all the bullshit you pulled.'

'Captain- I didn't mean to, you know that. I was only following orders-'

'So your orders mentioned you bullshitting to everyone that I left the military because my wife asked me to?'

'...Captain I didn't say that. Everyone assumed-'

'And you allowed it. Don't fucking lie, you just didn't want any heat to fall on you. Stay away from her. Or else. I don't care what you're ordered to do. You've already made the situation worse then it should be.'

'Captain please-'

'Out. Now. Nothing you say can excuse the shit you pulled.'

As you heard Petra leave, you felt that sinking feeling in your stomach grow. So Levi had left the military for you. And the military hated you for it. The real questions was, why? ____________________________________

You watched your husband as he spoon fed mashed potatoes to Kutchel. His face was scrunched up in disgust, as Kutchel made sure that at least half the food ended up on her face and clothes. Farlan was taking a nap, happily tucked away in your arms.

'Kutchel--for the love of- eat your shitty food!'

'Darling, language-'

'I'm trying, just look at the shitty mess she's making, I might have a heart attack-'

'Shit!'

The two of you paused, staring in stunned silence as your two year old began chanting the one word you had hoped she wouldn't pick up from your husband. Levi avoided your gaze, no doubt knowing it was his fault, and instead started making feeble attempts at stopping Kutchel.

'Oi don't say that-'

'Shit papwaa!'

'What? No. Brat-the-first, you better forget you ever heard that-'

You chuckled a little, the sight of your usually calm and composed husband panicking was too funny. You struggled to maintain your smile, however, as last night flashed in your mind again.

Everything seemed fine. Levi was content. Your children were happy. His new job was paying well. He was home more then ever. Even if he had quit the military for you, the two of you were living your life even better then before. There hadn't been any changes in your loving relationship.

But, as you watched Levi scowl and carry a displeased Kutchel off for a bath she very much didn't want, you knew you wouldn't be able to continue on without any doubts. Not until you and Levi properly talked about this.

You didn't care if the military blamed you for Levi leaving and hated your guts. You only cared if the man himself was actually okay with his decision.

You don't want to be the reason for him to break his tradition of living no regrets.

____________________________________

You ended up putting off talking to him. At first by a few hours, then by a few days. Eventually days turned to weeks and somehow, it had been four months since he had quit the military.

While this could be largely attributed to you being a coward, it was also how busy the two of you had gotten. Farlan had a rough teething phase, Kutchel had decided to make a sport out of kicking the fridge and trying to climb out the window, and Levi's job had a new project he had gotten busy in.

On a sunny afternoon, you held your daughters hand, and kept your son hiked on your hip as you walked out of the market. What you didn't know was that, as you struggled to carry your shopping bags and manage your mischievous children, someone would help you. And, after walking you home, that someone would give you the answers to all the questions you had wanted to ask Levi.

Years later, you would silently wonder if Erwin Smith had come there that day on purpose. It was likely, after too many years of working with Levi, he had known Levi would rather die before telling you something like this.

____________________________________

In all the time you had known Levi Ackerman, which amounted to a good five years now, you had learned a great deal about him. His strength, strong will, desire to protect, his devotion to being a soldier, his dreams for the future. All his highs and lows, ones that no one else had ever been pivy to, you knew them by heart.

You knew the most regret he had ever felt in his life was when Isabel and Farlan died. You knew his heart ached when even one soldier lost their life in battle. You knew the most flustered he had ever been in his life was when he had wanted to confess to wanting to be in a relationship with you, only for Hange to scream declare his feelings to you instead.

Thankfully, no one else had been there, or else Hange wouldn't be alive right now. And he had made sure to ask you out in his own sweet and romantic way later.

You had seen him get emotional more times then anyone else. At the birth of your children. Their first words. Kutchel learning how to crawl and following him around everywhere, her first decleration of love for her 'pwapa'. Farlan crying everytime he left for work, clinging to his leg as he whined. The two of you had built a family together, leading a largely satisfying life together. However, the danger and importance of his job had never escaped you.

You had always known you were second to his duty as a soldier. He would have to go on long missions, ditch dates, miss birthdays and not be able to tell you anything about his work, but you accepted it.

You never expected more then he could offer, preferring to enjoy whatever time you could have with him. You were fully okay with being the second choice, and so, you certainly hadn't expected him to take such a big decision.

To pick you over duty.

'Zackley.....ordered you to take a second wife?'

Levi winced, his eyes determinedly staring at the floor. There was some shame in his eyes, as though he had committed some crime. With a deep sigh, he sat next to you on the couch and braced himself to give you answers. Your children were sound asleep in your bed, while the two of you sat in the living room.

'Word got around about Kutchel and Farlan having abnormal strength. Zackley initially wanted me to sign a shitty contract and agree to both of them joining the military. I told him to fuck off.'

'The military wanted to use our children as soldiers? Levi you should have told me-'

'I didn't want to worry you. Frankly, I was half scared Zackley would approach you and try to bullshit you into agreeing with him.'

'... What happened after you refused?'

'He started pushing for me to have more kids. One's I wouldn't be..attached to-'

'--with another woman.'

The severe expression on Levi's face gave away exactly how much he hadn't appreciated that particular line of thought.

'I turned him down. But Zackley started placing pressure. The shitty old man just got greedy because he wanted more super soldiers. Kept pushing random women on me, and then someone theorized that if my children with you, a civillian, were that strong, then with another soldier they would be even stronger....'

You frowned, you hadn't wanted to believe Erwin but..

'.. He picked Petra. That idiot didn't turn him down. Mostly because of orders and partially because of that stupid, childish crush she has on me.'

You were at loss of how to respond, feeling too much for you to even think about putting into words. So that's why why Petra had let everyone think it had been your fault Levi had quit the military.

If she had told the truth, she would have to admit that she had agreed to marry and bear the children of an already married man. And while it would have been under orders, it would have ruined her reputation.

Levi mistook your sudden silence as something else, genuine panic flashing in his eyes. He kneeled down in front of you, hands immediately grabbing yours. His voice was shook a little as he hurried to reassure you.

'I swear, nothing fucking happened. I ignored it all as long as I could. Then Zackley had the nerve to give an official written order and threatened to court martial me. I broke the goddamn table and walked away from the military that day and--hey, look at me'

His hand gently nudged your chin up, steel eyes looked sorrowful at the sight of your watery ones.

'.. W-what if you regret it?'

Levi shook his head a little, opening his mouth to argue. You didn't let him.

'The military has been with you for so long. How do I know you won't regret this five years from now? I know you loved that job Levi, I don't want you to give up-'

'I'm not giving up shit. I loved that job because I agreed with where they were heading. Their goals. The moment they started pulling dumb crap like this, I m wasn't going to stick around.'

He sat next to you again, right arm wrapping around your shoulders, his left hand hand tucked between your hands.

'Erwin said it would be better if I just left for a while. Zackley is senile and he's in a stubborn mood. Once the Queen gives birth to her child, which is any day now, she'll end this nonsense.'

'Are you sure?'

'Definitely. That brat hasn't been well, so Zackley has been in complete control this entire time. Its why he got so ballsy, the queen wouldn't approve of this shit. We wanted to avoid risking more friction in the military, and me quitting was the answer. Erwin figured it would be a lesson for them to see how much they needed me or some shit. '

You leaned into his chest, feeling much more calm now. So everything would end up okay, he wouldn't have to leave behind the job he had poured his blood, sweat and tears into.

'This is why I didn't tell you this shit. Fucking politics and crappy old men.'

'No, I needed to know....'

You pulled away from him, only to settle yourself in his lap. Your lips brushed against his gently.

'.. You really do love us, don't you?'

'Tch whatever.'

The slight redness visible on his cheeks gave away how he truly felt.

____________________________________

A/N: I know, I said I'd consider making a confession chapter. But I got this idea stuck my head and I figured, hey why not just set it in the same universe. Now that this idea is out of my system, I'll get started on it. I hope y'all enjoyed this! My asks are open, so you can make requests or ask whatever you want really. Till next time ⭐⭐

#aot #snk #AOT #SNK #levi ackerman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Dad! Levi #Happy Levi #Politics suck #Levi x reader #Reader insert #Strong acker children

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mystery-vixen · 3 years

Text

I wrote this for @the-bafflement-of-scotland-yard

Jennyanydots being a mum for 1000 words? Bet.

Characters included: Jennyanydots, Munkustrap, Rum Tum Tugger, Macavity

Warnings: mentions of blood/violence

When Jennyanydots left her den that evening she hadn’t expected to be cornered by a slobbering dog. She had been on her way back from teaching her mice when the mutt found her and chased her two streets until he finally caught her right arm between his teeth. A shrill scream escaped her and she dug her claws deep into his face until he released his grip enough for her to rip free from his teeth.

There wasn’t a time in the cat’s life that she had been so close to meeting her end and the adrenaline that fueled her lively sprint home could be matched by a spring kitten. She had made it very close to her home before she met with a familiar young Tom who quickly rushed to her aid.

Relieved, she allowed for Munkustrap to take her the rest of the way home and now resided in her den with her adoptive son tending to her wound. The wrinkle in his brow that was so indicative of stress came and left his features as they sat in silence. Jenny could tell the Tom was thinking and she raised a hand over his as he worked.

His hands stilled over the wound and quickly his gaze rose to hers. She gave him a soft smile and gently patted his knuckles.

“I’m fine, dear,” she assured in the boldest tone she could muster. She saw his shoulders relax then and his jaw loosen, but could still see the concern in his eyes.

“Where was it?” His voice was calm and serious. She blinked for a moment as she recollected her thoughts of the incident. “The market’s side of town. I kept to the alleyway, don’t you worry —I always do. But, he came from nowhere. He chased me to the north entry of the junkyard, but he didn’t follow me inside.”

He nodded as he took in what she had told him. Again, she could see he was deep in thought and she gave his hand a light squeeze before pulling away and laying it to rest over her thigh.

“Don’t you worry about me, Munk. I’m as tough as they come. You know that.” She snuggled against the couch she was sitting on and Munk rose from his position kneeled in front of her. He pulled the quilt beside her over and onto her lap, patting it down so that it folded snuggly around her. She gave him a grateful smile in response and patted the seat beside her for him to sit.

Munkustrap didn’t take the offer because his attention was turned to the door when a crash sounded from outside. After a beat Tugger burst inside, appearing breathless and worn out as if he’d been running for some time. “Mum!” He called and Jenny gasped quietly at seeing him.

“Oh, Tugger. What have you done to yourself?” She glanced to Munk for a second who appeared as perplexed as she was. “Please, sit down.”

Tugger wasted no time before he bounded towards her and sat thigh to thigh with his adoptive mother. “Tantomile told me she saw you running from a dog. Is that true?” He asked worriedly while Munk sat down on the floor beside them.

“It is, dear,” she nodded to him. “But, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, please.”

He appeared distressed at her confirmation and her assurances did little to waver that stress. He glared, but it wasn’t at her admission. “Dogs,” he practically spat and ruffled his mane before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, mum. I’ll walk you home from teaching from now on!”

Jenny shook her head at the offer, although flattered. “Oh, Tugger. Don’t. You have a life you have to live. You don’t need to take me home every night,” she shushed him. She turned her attention to Munk sitting on the floor beside her and she reached a hand to him. He gently took her hand in his and smiled kindly to her.

“Both of you are far too sweet.”

As if a whirlwind had begun in her living room a gust of wind brought their attention to the spot before them. Before their eyes a very tall, ginger cat appeared in a puff of smoke. “Mother!” Macavity shouted once he’d materialized and Jenny saw his face fade to ghostly white when he noticed his brothers in the room with them.

From her peripheral vision, the mother cat could see a smug grin spread Tugger’s face at his brother’s embarrassment.

Macavity collected himself quickly, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes glazed over the three. He was always an intelligent Tom and she’d known him very often to read a room before he prepared for any kind of interaction. “Are you alright?” Finally left his lips and she nodded slowly to him in an attempt to ease the clear concern she could see in his eyes.

“I am. Your brothers have been taking good care of me,” she explained. “Please, join us. Will you?”

His eyes shifted between Munkustrap and Tugger. He remained unmoved when he asked his second question. “Are you hurt?”

A short sigh escaped her. She could make him sit when they were alone. She’d brought a gentle side of Macavity out a few times, but he wouldn’t join in when others were involved. His brothers proved no different, it appeared. One day at a time, my dear, she thought.

“I was.” She raised her arm for him to see and his gaze locked on it as if nothing else in the entire world was more important. “Munkustrap did an excellent job cleaning and bandaging it for me.” She glanced down to the grey Tom on the floor and gave a gentle smile.

When Jenny looked back to Macavity she could practically feel the anger radiating off of him like heat off a flame. He chewed his cheek. A habit that she’d tried to stop, but he was decidedly more stubborn than his brothers.

“I’ll be back,” he said before turning on his heel.

“Hey!” Tugger called after him. “Don’t go doing something stupid!” Jenny placed a hand on Tugger’s thigh, earning his attention and forcing him to be quiet. She gave him a kind smile to relax him and turned to Macavity.

“Do what you must, dear. But, nothing too severe,” she said as he stepped away. “Macavity.” He halfway turned to look at her. His expression was unreadable, aside from his stare being intense as it always was. “Please, be careful.. and hurry back.”

After a short moment he nodded and turned back away, leaving the three alone again. She relaxed more against her seat when he left and she confidently waited for him to return.

“No chill with that guy,” Tugger muttered as he also wiggled in his seat to get more comfortable.

“Can we get you anything?” Munkustrap asked and Jenny shook her head with a content sigh. “No. Thank you. I’m simply content having the two of you here.”

Jennyanydots had known much heartbreak. She’d endured many lonely nights. She’d lost two loving parents. She’d suffered numerous failed pregnancies and then had watched a close friend leave her own three kittens.

It all seemed worth it now. Now that she was surrounded by such loving children who stayed close to her even in adulthood.

All boys grew to be so different from one another, but they all loved her and they all showed their love in different ways. She was proud of that and she loved them all so dearly.

#I really enjoyed writing this #the boys #🥺🥺🥺#cats the musical #jennyanydots #munkustrap #rum tum tugger #Macavity #cats the musical fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #mine

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conaionaru · 4 years

Text

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

I can be your enemy

Synopsis: The aftermath of Aslaug’s death leaves Vanya shaken and hollow while the brother’s talk of revenge and Hoenir tries to recover

Warnings: little bit of badass Vanya, angst, talk of revenge, depression, manipulation,

Tags: @didiintheblog @chynagirl13 @astridbaby @thereareendlessopportunities @xbellaxcarolinax @queenbeeta @youbloodymadgenius @lol-haha-joke @heavenly1927 @shannygoatgruff @buckysjuicyplums

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

Vanya felt like a passenger in her own body. As if someone tore a part of her soul out and left the body behind to carry on living. Ivar and Aslaug were dead. Ivar drowned out on the sea just like Aslaug saw, and the woman herself was murdered in cold blood.

How happy Vanya was in her new life, so content with what she gained. Maybe this was God's punishment for turning her back on him and the religion. Vanya couldn't voice how she felt. It was as if all her happiness was ripped out of her and replaced with sadness and anger—neither big enough to fill the hole, leaving her partially empty.

Her son was all that was left of her new life; the babe was more vocal about his feelings. Since they moved into the Ragnarsson's hunting hut, Aros has been crying and screaming non-stop.

And no matter what she tried, he just kept on being upset. Never before did she feel this useless as a mother, not even able to ask anyone for help. Ubbe and Sigurd arguing about revenge weren't helping either.

"She never loved us. She only loved Ivar. Oh, yeah, and Harbard. Yes, she loved Harbard, all right. She made a fool of herself loving him. You should have seen her!"

"Ah, you forget I did see," Ubbe replied to his brother. His face looking horrifying from the beating he took earlier.

Sigurd moved closer to the fire, looking at his brother in earnest. "Do you think Harbard was a god? Was he a god, Ubbe? Or just a man?"

Ubbe took a deep breath to compose himself and looked away from his younger brother. "He took advantage."

"I guess that doesn't matter either way."

"She was still our mother!" The eldest Aslaugsson reminded him sternly. Done with Sigurd's attitude towards the late Queen.

Moving back, he looked down at his hands, his eyes misty and voice sad. "By the end she was a stranger to me."

"Was she a witch?" Vanya scoffed at the ridiculous question ignoring their questioning looks.

"We'll never know."

With the help of his axe, the injured Viking got to his feet, groaning in pain from the various cuts and bruises. "Ah, well... Lagertha must pay the price."

"Let Ivar kill her if he wants to."

"If he's still alive." Ubbe watched his sister in law stiffen as soon as the words left his lips. Proving his theory might be true.

"What?"

"Both our parents may be dead. We may have just become orphans, Sigurd." Laughing, Sigurd leaned back on the furs around the fire. "What are you laughing at?"

"Our father isn't dead, Ubbe. Ragnar Lothbrok can't die."

"Dead or not, it doesn't matter." Vanya finally spoke up, pulling Aros away from her breast and fixing her dress. "Aslaug must be avenged, if not for the fact that she was your mother then for your honor. You keep reminding everyone that you are the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. But you hide here like a coward. You are letting Lagertha get away with it."

Sigurd rolled his eyes at her, not bothering to hold back despite her glare. "She is surrounded by shieldmaidens who already beat Ubbe once. How are we supposed to fight her?"

"With an army. Aslaug was a Götaland Princess; I am sure there are people loyal to her, ready to aid her sons on their quest to revenge. You are the only ones who can do what's right by her memory." Vanya pressed on desperately, kneeling next to Sigurd's frame by the fire.

"What about Ivar? Don't tell me you think he is dead too? I pegged you as the last one to give up on him."

Vanya sat back on her heels with a sigh and looked at her hands as Aros crawled up next to her, whining for attention. "He is not here, but you two are. We need to gather an army in the shadows. Keep Lagertha on her toes, but don't look like too much of a threat to her."

She could have told them what Aslaug saw happen to both Ragnar and Ivar. But they had enough grief for now. Let them focus on avenging Aslaug first; they can do as they chose about Ragnar's death later.

Sigurd scoffed and pointed at the panting seer on their furs. Unconscious and beaten, Hoenir looked like a shadow of what he once was. The shieldmaidens would pay for that too. He was more to Vanya than a protector; he was her friend. And his current state would be avenged as well.

"Look what they did to Hoenir! Do you really think that Lagertha will let us live? We will be watched like prisoners in our home. Just because it was once her home too." Sigurd spat out again, annoyed with the topic. He didn't want to waste his life on revenge and bloodshed.

He hoped Vanya would understand his point; after all, she was a pacifist. And now suddenly she was as bloodthirsty as Ivar. "Are you sure you want to spill blood for Mother? If I do as you wish, will you be able to stomach the battles and bloodshed?"

"If it means doing what's right... I will stab the bitch myself." Vanya confessed, her voice hard and eyes like steel. Ubbe watched his sister in law and nodded in agreement.

"Then, it is decided. Lagertha will fall." He raised his cup for a toast and looked down at his brother. "Right Sigurd?"

With a reluctant sight, Sigurd raised a cup towards him. "May her reign be short."

Vanya tended to Hoenir the rest of the night. The tall man was feverish and mumbling in his sleep; the words were hard to understand, so she ignored them. Dabbing at his sweaty forehead with a wet cloth was all she could do right now—hoping that he will survive the night.

When Sigurd woke the next morning, it was to the sight of Lagertha's lover sitting on one bed. He kicked his brother awake, startling the sleeping princess as well. Her head rose from Hoenir's bedside, Aros whining in his crib as well.

"What?"

"Oh, do not get up. I am Astrid." The black-haired shieldmaiden replied cooly, watching Vanya push the now awake Hoenir back down. The wanderer suffered many wounds, and Lagertha was certain that he would die because of them. What a surprise to see him up and ready to fight. A strange man indeed.

The brothers exchanged a look, not at all alerted by the intruder in their hut. "We know who you are." Sigurd reminded her, confused by her introduction. "But why are you here?"

Astrid folded her legs over each other and cupped her hands on her knee. "One day, I would like to change the way you look."

Everyone watched her, confused and sleepy. And definitely not in the mood for small talk with the enemy. "What?"

"I am making it my business to make friends with the sons of Ragnar." She trailed her eyes over to Vanya and her glare. "And his grandson and daughter in law as well, of course."

Ubbe smirked in the same way his father does and scoffed at the big reveal. "Forgive me, Astrid. But I am afraid that we..."

"Yes. You should be afraid." Astrid cut him off, all playfulness and charm gone. "That's what I came to tell you. If you touch a hair on Lagertha's head... You are dead men."

Astrid rose to leave as Ubbe watched her amused, and Sigurd's confusion hit the roof. Meanwhile, Vanya wished to see Astrid and the rest of Lagertha's entourage to drop dead. Including the treacherous Torvi that nearly killed Hoenir and probably passed the bow to the new Queen of Kattegat to kill Aslaug.

Ubbe threw his cup against the door to stop her. "Do you really think that if I am not afraid of Lagertha, then I would be afraid of you?" Astrid glared at him, offended by his lack of fear and respect for Lagertha.

"Leave, bitch!" Ordered Vanya standing over Hoenir with a sword in hand. The seer's blade was heavy for her untrained hands, her whole arm shaking.

Astrid rolled her eyes at the ginger's theatrics and pointed her finger towards the weapon. "Put the blade down before you hurt yourself, Princess." The last word was spat out in a patronizing way, the same way Silas used to call her - sister. "You don't know how to use it."

"Maybe not." She shrugged her shoulders, smiling cheerfully before the grimace fell from her face. "But I know that if I push the pointy end in deep enough, I will finally have some peace and quiet. So leave before I try my hand in fighting."

The older woman shook her head in humor and raised her arms in the air. "I am unarmed. From what I heard, you wouldn't harm a defenseless woman. Your kind heart doesn't allow it."

"If it befits a queen, why not me? Maybe I will let you turn your back to me as well." Vanya spat, reminding Astrid that she is a threat as well. Lagertha made the wrong enemy by killing Aslaug. The Queen's sons might forget, but Vanya never would. She was of the House of the Raising Sun, and they never forgot. "And don't concern yourself with my gentle heart. It turns vicious when challenged. Ask my brother of what consequences that holds."

With that, Astrid left, slamming the door behind her. The young mother dropped Hoenir's sword to pick her son up and soothe him. "What happened to keeping a low profile?"

She turned her back to the door and frowned at Ubbe. "I am honoring your mother's memory, showing them that I am not afraid or week. I am Vanya of the Raising Sun. Only living heir to Osmond, King of Slegia and Wrosan. I am the wife of Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok. I bore him a grandson, and I will not be bested by a greedy old crone and her mouthy lover."

Vanya stomped out of the hut, Sigurd watching her go, still half asleep. They looked at Hoenir, who snorted in amusement. "You take one nap, and all of a sudden, Vanya turns into mini Ivar."

Hoenir hit the target over and over, his anger flaring with every strike he made. "Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough." The words echoed around in his mind, trapping him in a prison of self-hate and dissapointment.

His wounds screamed in protest as the blisters on his hands opened and bled. But the pain didn't matter. He failed to do his duty, and Aslaug died because of it. What if the usurper decided to kill Vanya and Aros as well? Then his journey would have been for naught, and all his promises of protection just empty words.

Hoenir needs to get better, stronger, and more reliable. So no one could defeat him again. The Gods had a plan for him; everybody said so since he was a small boy. Did he become too comfortable that they chose to punish him? Or was it just a coincidence that he was reading into too much?

"For someone who has been up for two days, you are working too hard. Carry on like this, and you will drop dead!" Vanya's tired voice was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. The princess has been nagging him about his health since the day Hoenir woke up to see Astrid in the hut.

She cared for him, and as nice as it was, it was also very distracting. His duty laid with keeping her alive, not himself. With a fleeting glance towards the hut, he saw her leaning against the door frame in her nightgown. Her red hair was down, and a little bit messy from sleep.

Sigurd walked up behind her, lacing up his breeches while eating bread. The Ragnarsson looked like a mess as well, but his hair was always hard to look at, so Hoenir ignored it. "How long have you been up?"

"Hard to say. I woke in the night." Vanya frowned at the reply and walked over the damp grass towards him. Lowering his sword, he tried to scold her for walking around barefoot but got dragged into the hut instead.

"I have no time for this, Vanya. I need to train."

"You can train later! If you open your wounds, who knows if you survive them. I won't see you die, Hoenir." The ginger scolded him kneeling down in front of him with a wet cloth to clean his bloody palms.

Ubbe sat by the table, holding a squirming Aros in his knee. The Ragnarsson's face had linen with herbs under to make the swelling of his face go down faster. "As much as we are happy to see you back in fighting spirit. Why the rush? We agreed to wait and make a plan first."

Hoenir scoffed and looked down at his calloused hands with the bloody scabs. "I was beaten so easily. All it took was three arrows, and they had me at their mercy. If they slit my throat, I would be dead by now."

"If you keep this up, you will be dead in a fortnight." Sigurd reminded him, looking at the barely healed scar on his shoulder.

"Maybe that's the punishment I deserve for being a failure. An unhonorable death that will ban me from Valhalla."

The slap that hit him in the face stung, but the pain felt good. He deserved to suffer far worse for letting Aslaug die. The woman believed him when he told her about his destiny of protecting Vanya. She practically saved him from dying by Ivar's hand. All the hospitality and trust she had given him, he repaid by letting her die.

"I understand some of what you feel but don't say those things. I command you to think better of yourself. No one is to blame but that blonde bitch and her minions."

"Vanya is right. Torvi impaled you with arrows; they knocked you out. At least you fought back. If anyone's to blame, then it is me. We let ourselves be fooled and seduced. I stayed behind to protect my mother and failed." Ubbe rasped out, glaring into his second cup of the day.

Hoenir shook his head and hanged his head in shame. "I was supposed to be at your door. Keeping you safe just like I promised I would. You slept in Aslaug's bed. If I stayed by your side, I could have prevented her death."

Sigurd sighed at the self-hate talk of his friend. For someone so quiet, he had a lot of bad things to say about himself. "No one will blame you for sleeping in your home, Hoenir."

"That's not it..." He trembled as the words left his mouth, leaving a new wave of shame over him. "I wasn't there because I spent the night in someone's bed."

Sigurd snorted at that and put a reassign hand on his healthy shoulder. "So did we. But we weren't so secretive about it. Whose bed was it?"

"His name is Leifr."

The room grew quiet as they watched the seer's shirtless hunched over frame. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white and shaking. "Ah, that explains his looks at you. He looks pretty enough." Sigurd shrugged it off, not caring if his friend liked men or not.

Hoenir looked up from his lap to meet eyes with the Ragnarsson, who gave him a reassuring smile in return. "You... aren't disgusted by me?"

"Why the hell would we? You like men Hoenir, not corpses." Ubbe snorted at his brother's retort and raised his cup in a silent toast of approval. Even Vanya smiled at the wanderer in compassion. If he expected backlash from anyone, it would be a former Christian.

"We all like different things. And sometimes it is hard to explain why we want the people we like. I love a violent man with mood swings, and you like men in general. Ubbe, Sigurd, and Hvitserk sleep with the same woman. One judges any of us, why should they judge you?"

"Skol, to that!" Sigurd called out as everyone sipped from their cups. Hoenir is sitting there stunned looked at them in disbelief.

"So... you won't throw me out? Shun me?"

"You are our friend," Sigurd explained nonchalantly.

"Practically, family." Added Vanya in glee, picking up Aros in her arms to feed him.

"We do not know who made you reluctant to tell us. But we don't care at all. Do what you like or whoever you like. So do we. Right, Sigurd?" The brothers nodded at each other as Hoenir swallowed to ease his dry throat and thanked them in return. Taking a cup from the oud player's hands, he downed the whole thing in one gulp.

The last time he had told anyone that he was into men, he had been thrown out of his home. Ever since then, he wandered the earth, trying to find a place to fit in. After years of trying, he settled for following the will of the gods and hiding his secret from everyone.

Leifr had no problem hiding his true nature, and when he saw Hoenir talking with Sigurd, he came to steal him away. At first, they just talked, and later on, the talking led them to Leifr's bed.

The boy kept their meetings a secret, and at Hoenir's request, stayed away from where they could be seen. For someone who had no problem being called an Ergi, he was very considerate of his lover's feelings.

After breakfast, Vanya went out with Aros to take care of something; she and Hoenir talked pleasantly. The seer's mind was still in turmoil from earlier, but slowly the tension left his body, and a small shred of happiness took its place.

"I have plans for today."

"And what might those be?"

Vanya smirked at the innocent question, her smile a little bit mocking. "I am honoring Aslaug's memory."

"And how will you do that?"

"Wait and see."

Ubbe and Sigurd sat in Lagertha's hall, drinking her mead and scheming. The woman looked too comfortable on their mother's throne. And if their plans came to be, Ubbe would be the new king of Kattegat.

The boy wasn't all that interested in the crown, but as the oldest of Aslaug's sons, it was rightfully his. Sigurd had no taste for revenge or ruling, and Hvitserk was more of an explorer than a diplomat. Ivar was too young and ill-tempered to sit where their father once sat.

Out of all of Aslaug's sons, Ivar is probably the most hellbent on avenging their mother. Telling him of their mother's demise when he returns means Lagertha's certain death. But if he were to rule, only the gods know what would happen to their home.

Vanya might be able to lessen his temper, but ruling and raising children is a hard business. Ubbe saw it break his mother; he wouldn't wish the same fate upon his sister. She also told Stithulf that she had no desire to rule anyway. So leaving the killing and crown to Ivar would mean chaos. As the oldest, it was his responsibility to avenge Aslaug and take over ruling Kattegat.

When Sigurd opened his mouth to tell Ube something, a commotion from outside cut him off. Everyone's heads turned towards the door where the noise was coming from. "All hail the rightful Queen." "Gods protect her!" "Thank you for everything!" "Long may she live!"

The people yelled from outside, causing Lagertha to smile at all the praise she was getting. "How quick they are to turn against mother," Ubbe growled in distaste, rising to see the crowd outside.

Lagertha stood up as well, excited to see her loyal followers. But when the doors to the Great hall opened, the crowd had its backs turned to her. Instead, they applauded someone in the middle of the group who was giving out something. With a furrowed brow, Lagertha and the Ragnarssons watched the people.

"That's Hoenir!" Whispered Sigurd to his brother, pointing to the middle of the crowd. And true enough, the seer stood there stoic as ever, surrounded by cheering citizens.

"Thank the gods for you!"

"May the gods give you many more children!"

"All hail the Princess!"

"All hail the rightful Queen of Kattegat!!"

Ubbe scoffed in amusement at the second to last sentence; it was obvious who the cheers were meant for. Vanya stood in the crowd handing out bundles of food, coin, and clothes. Smiling at everyone and wishing them well.

"People of Kattegat! I swear to you that no matter what may come, I will always stand by your side! You shall not hunger or freeze as long as I have the means to help you!"

The crowd cheered out Vanya's name, calling her a gift from the gods. But the most memorable part was that more people named her their rightful Queen. Lagertha looked like she might implode from anger.

But Vanya didn't correct them once; she only continued to gift them with things and wish them well. She talked to the people and hugged their children. The longer she stood there, the more people seemed to love her.

"I sweat it on the gods! Just because the Queen's dead doesn't mean that I will stop helping you. Nothing has changed. May Thor strike me dead if I am laying!"

A child ran up to Vanya, asking her to be picked up. Vanya called the child by name and lifted the girl into her arms, and kissed her temple. The smile on her lips turned into a scowl when her eyes met Lagertha's. The princess spat on the ground in distaste and turned back to the people to entertain the crowds.

Ubbe smirked next to Sigurd and slapped him on the shoulder. "Keep her on her toes."

The younger Ragnarsson smirked as well and shook his head. "She also said we should stay in the shadows. Not blatantly question her authority."

"Driving her insane and insecure might do the trick as well." Lagertha walked towards the younger female, looking like a murderer on the loose. Which she, ironically enough, actually was.

The shieldmaidens shooed the crowds away, Lagertha meeting Vanya in the middle, only Hoenir by her side. "For someone so young, your memory isn't the best."

"Why do you think so?" The ginger feigned innocence and obliviousness. Acting as if she wasn't trying to undermine Lagertha's rule moments ago.

"The Queen isn't dead. I am right here." The blonde's face hid anger behind a friendly facade. "And you aren't the queen either."

Vanya shrugged her shoulders and raised a mocking eyebrow. "I never claimed I was."

"You didn't correct them either."

"They were screaming so many things, and I was so busy handing out resources. I can't correct so many people as well."

Lagertha clenched her teeth and gave the ginger a tight-lipped smile. "And did you get the coin and the food? How did you buy all these things?"

With ease, Vanya drew a letter from beneath her corset; it bore the seal of Slegia. "When my mother requested Silas's body, she didn't ask for the gold or jewelry as well. So I had the liberty to use it; however, I wanted to."

"I will not have you challenging me, Vanya. You no longer hold any power. Remember that and stay in your place."

Vanya smirked slyly the way Aslaug used to and shrugged mockingly. "If you truly think that, then you are the one whose wits left them."

The ginger left the Queen behind as she joined her brother's in law on the Great Hall's steps. Ubbe drew her to his side, and with an arm around her shoulder, he led her back to their hut to gloat. Brynja joined the quartet with Aros in her arms, scolding the princess for her stunt.

#vikings #history vikings #vikings imagine #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar x oc #original character #original female character #ivar imagine

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thegrantwater · 3 years

Text

Darkness Feeds on the Saddest Souls

A small taste, that's all I ask.

part one, also on my ao3

word count: 1896

When Regina came too, she smelled smoke.

She wasn’t sure where it had come from, the smell of flame, but it was almost overwhelming. Looking down, she saw black tar dissipate at her feet. A grey dress fell to her ankles, and she pushed the hood of her newly adorned cloak back to her shoulders. Looking up, she realized she was in the middle of a forest, one she wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with. The air felt crisper here, and as she took a deep breath in Regina realized that she’d ridden Rocinante through these woods as a child.

“I’m in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Very perceptive, dearie.”

She whipped around, seeing Rumplestiltskin leaning on a tree behind her. He looked like he did when they’d first met, his skin glistening in the light and wrapped in his attire from a life lived long ago.

“How the hell are you here? You’re in Storybrooke, in a coma.” He gave a slight nod, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes, I am. Or rather, he is.” Regina furrowed her brows, confused.

“What are you?” She was nervous, feeling magic crackling in the air around them. Her power hadn’t felt like this in ages, and she thought back to when Emma had helped her activate Jefferson’s hat. The energy in the town hall then is what she felt now, the raw intensity weighing her down and lifting her into the sky all at once.

“I’m many things. The voice in your head, the Dark One’s powers inside of you-inside of all Dark Ones. Rumplestiltskin is just one of many.”

“So Emma failed,” her voice was soft, laced with something she couldn’t even put words to. The last thing she remembered clearly was Emma taking the dagger in her own hand, raising it to take on the curse herself. After that was darkness, and pain coursing through her veins as she lost consciousness. It was slowly making sense, her ending up in the Enchanted Forest. The runes by her feet came into focus, translating quickly in her brain once she realized what they meant.

Regina was now the Dark One, standing on the stones that gave life to the first to carry this burden.

“There it is. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to spell it out for you.” She glared at the man as he took a step towards her. “Now, are you ready to begin?”

“Begin what?” She replied, finally stepping off of the stones and starting into the woods around her.

“Well, learning to be the Dark One, of course! Though it shouldn’t take much time, you were a more prolific heart stealer than I ever was in my day. Maybe a little training, learning to hone all the powers of the darkness, but I’m sure it won’t take longer than a week to make you one of the most powerful Dark One’s of all time.” He was trailing behind her, a spring in his step as the leaves crunched under his feet.

“I won’t embrace the darkness again. I can’t,” she spoke, still walking through the trees. Henry was present in her mind. He would never forgive her if she fell back into her old ways, not after how far she’d come. Regina wouldn’t fool herself - she was no hero, and she never thought she would be. But she’d improved herself, had worked towards happiness and peace with the family she’d created, and if she went back to the darkness she wasn’t sure she’d find her way out this time.

“Oh, they all say that. But everyone who steps from that well enjoys the taste too much. It’s intoxicating, your majesty, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of that.” She stopped in her tracks, turning to face the vision behind her. He was smiling, a disgusting visage of filth and evil. “So you can fight the urges, and you can try to ignore my whispers in your ear at every turn. But everyone falls for the flavor of the darkness. The only way to stop is to be stopped.”

“If I’m in the Enchanted Forest, then Merlin isn’t far from here, and the Apprentice told Emma that he can destroy the darkness. So I’m going to find him, and he will fix this.” She’d stepped closer to him, now practically nose to nose with the embodiment of calamity. She almost gagged at the smell, identical to what she’d smelled at the stones. It was the smell of suffering, of pain caused over thousands of years. If she let it sit for a moment, it smelled like her castle had in its prime. The blood of her enemies spilled on the marble floors, the rot of death permeating the hallways as she drank bitter wine from the decanter in her bedroom, crying out into the night for her wishes to be granted. But Regina knew better than to trust the Blue Fairy to answer her calls - her sleepless nights praying for the fairy to take her away were still imprinted in her mind.

“Merlin? You’re much better off with me,” he kept the same wicked smirk on his face, and Regina rolled her eyes as she turned her back to him once again.

“I doubt that. I won’t hurt the people I love, not again.”

And so she kept walking.

“Apprentice,” Emma burst through the curtain in the back of Gold’s shop, where Blue was dabbing at the wizard’s forehead with a damp cloth. “The darkness took Regina. Where did they go?” The rest of her family trailed in behind her, Hook trying his best to keep his distance. Emma wanted him to; she thought that if he tried to come near her after what had just happened, she’d rip his throat out.

The Apprentice sat up slowly, swatting away the fairy’s hand. “She’s now where all darkness is born, Savior. Your realm.”

“The Enchanted Forest?” Snow asked softly, clutching David’s arm. Emma kept her focus on the man in front of her. If she looked back, all she’d be able to see was Henry’s face, crestfallen at losing his mother for the umpteenth time.

“Then you need to take us there,” Robin spoke up from behind them. The Apprentice looked past Emma, clearly disappointed. How this frail old man could hold so much power and so little at the same time, Emma would never understand.

“I’m too weak now, but this will help.” He waved his hand, and in a flourish of grey smoke a wand appeared in his hand. The handle was ornate, a delicately carved green wood, knobbed on the bottom. “This was a gift from Merlin, the day I became his apprentice. In it is all light magic.”

Emma snatched the wand from his hand, inspecting it closely. “So this can take us to my mom?” Henry was quiet, his voice barely a whisper. Emma looked back to see tears in his eyes, fists clenched at his sides. Regina did the same thing when she was upset, almost as if it was an attempt to ground her anger.

“Not on its own,” the man explained. “It needs to be wielded as it was forged, with both sides of the coin. Light and dark as one.” His voice trailed off at the end, and he fell back onto the bed, eyes rolling back into his head. Blue brought the cloth back to his head, wiping at it gently and muttering to herself-some kind of healing spell if Emma had to guess.

“The only person with that kind of power is the one we’re trying to get to,” David spoke, a thought simply bursting through the silence. “How are we going to get there without her?”

Emma stood, the want firmly in her hand. “Maybe we don’t need her. I can try and use this thing myself.” Turning back to the group, she held the wand towards the ceiling. All eyes were on her as she slowly made a circle with the wand, and her only thoughts were directed towards seeing Regina. She thought that if she could devote her mind to the woman in question, that just maybe it would force the magic through the wood and into the portal she was struggling to create.

“Emma enough!” Hook shouted, stepping forward and pulling Emma’s arm down. As he did, Emma’s other hand reached up and gripped his throat, fingers practically crushing his arteries.

“I know what I’m doing, Killian.” She growled, eyes pointed in anger. Robin stepped between them, breaking the connection between the two. The pirate let out a cough as air filled his lungs again. Emma felt the hard stares of her family on her, shocked by her aggression. None of them could remember the last time she’d behaved like this, if at all. Even Emma struggled to think of a time she’d been overwhelmed by such rage.

“Emma you heard the man,” Robin started, attempting to get her focus on him and not the man she’d threatened now twice in the same night. “The wand needs both light and dark to reach its full potential; your magic is purely light. Without the darkness, we won’t be able to activate it.”

“And what’s your great suggestion, Robin? We call Regina and ask her to activate the wand for us? She’s not here!” She shouted, now stepping up to him with a fury in her stance.

“We need someone wicked, Swan.” Hook muttered, still rubbing at his throat. The ginger spitfire locked under the hospital, part of the reason they were in this mess in the first place.

“No, no, no. That witch is more than wicked, she’s deranged. All she’s ever wanted was Regina gone, do you really think she’d agree to help us get her back?” Emma said, and as her adrenaline rush came down she started to feel her head pounding.

“We have to try, Ma.” It was Henry that spoke, as heads turned to face him. Snow and Charming were appalled at the mere mention of Zelena, and after all the damage she’d caused Emma was right there with them. She opened her mouth to speak, but Henry began again before she could get a word in edgewise. “My mom left her there because she thought that it was possible Zelena could change. Maybe this is her chance.” He was desperate, grasping at straws in an attempt to convince her. “And Robin’s right, you’ll never be able to wield the wand on your own. I think it’s worth the risk, if it means we can get Mom back. Please.”

The room fell quiet at his pleas, everyone deciding on their own whether or not it was even a viable option. Emma was the deepest in thought, grappling with the dilemma before her. They were right - she couldn’t use the wand on her own. And with Gold comatose, there truly were no other options for a magic user in the town. But what would Regina say when she found out they’d let Zelena go? Sure, it was for her, but locking the witch up was for her as well. And if Zelena harmed any of them, nothing would go well.

But Emma had made her decision the moment she’d realized who Hook was talking about. So she focused back on Henry. “Looks like we’re making a stop at the hospital.”

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circumstellars · 4 years

Note

Hello there! Can I have a ficlet with dialogue prompt, 'What's making him scream like that?' for Five and Diego, or any siblings you like ;)

[Ok so this turned out slightly longer than intended, but I was able to blend it together with another idea I had for a follow up to this ficlet.

The context is that this is canon compliant in that it happens somewhere near the end of S1EP4, when passed out drunk Five is recovering in Diego’s bed.

Basically Five has an PTSD episode, or a night terror if that’s easier, and the line you prompted I rearranged and altered a bit to fit the scene, so I hope that’s okay?

In this addition to the canon, when they were little Ben begins to have trouble controlling the otherworldly monster he uses, and Five has made a promise he won’t let things get out of hand. Fast forward to S1, where Luther and Diego are taking care of him, but before Al comes to deliver Eudora’s message, and it is sandwiched between two Five apocalypse flashbacks.

So so so many thanks to @michlle, or @/kkie on TUA Adult Fan Discord server. She’s an amazing beta that helped me in a pinch! So the only reason my grammar is so much better than usual is entirely thanks to her.

Very angsty. Blood, just a snippet a violence. Brotherly pain all around, emotional suffering. Enjoy! I hope you like it.]

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⟨p⟩=md⟨x⟩/dt=mddt∫∞−∞x|ψ|2dx=m∫∞−∞x∂|ψ|2∂tdx. 'It's a simple fucking equation, what is wrong?' His shaky fingers struggled with the chalk, accidentally snapping off one end against the concrete wall. Five swore, making a face at the broken piece of chalk like it spoke ill of his mother.

Oh god. Mom. His face crumpled. 'The expectation values of displacement and momentum... obey time evolution equations analogous with,' a wet cough interrupted his deflated musing. He spun around and rested against the concrete he had been writing on moments before, before turning an eye to Dolores. '... the mechanics of Schrödinger’s equation.' Dolores gave him a weary look. Five avoided her gaze. She didn't know. It's not like she had been forced to pick up quantum physics at age ten, and really, he had to forgive her for that. The sun was powerful today, as it had been at least seventeen of the twenty-six days he'd been stuck in the apocalyptic ruins of his former city. It should have only been the end of April, if that newspaper clipping he held close was in fact the last thing to have been printed, but it felt hotter than middle July easily. The aggressive winds of mid-afternoon whipped all sorts of debris into his frail body and any exposed skin, and Five simply couldn't risk any injuries that could deplete his energy. He was on the cusp of fixing this, he could feel it in his exhausted bones.

He swallowed down the start of a painful sob, careful to steel over his expression. 'I know you said something about the farthest right term Dolores, but I'm not neglecting it,' Five chided, breathing into the dirty scarf around his face.

He turned around and scooped up the chalk he had rejected moments ago. 'The spatial extent of the particle wavefunction isn't smaller than the variation length-scale of the potential. You're clever, and pretty, but not that clever.'

Five snorted at his own banter, smiling into the trails of chalk spilling from his hand as it ran across the rubble. 'Now, listen carefully this time...' --- Diego unceremoniously dropped Dolores on a nearby chair. The fuck is this for? He gave the mannequin an odd look. A few steps away Luther lowered their brother carefully into Diego's roomy, luxurious twin cot, rolling the sleepy, drunken Five so that he was resting comfortably on his side.

Diego sidled next to Luther, joining him in looking over their tiny brother. Small, frozen in time for them both in memory and now, awkwardly, in reality too. The baby fat still very much clung to his still rounded features and made him look impossibly younger in a way that brought nostalgia roaring up the esophagus like heartburn. He was supposedly twice their age now? Diego scrunched his nose; to think this child, for all intents and purposes, laid here so serenely- so sweetly, dare he say it, looked like a boy who'd just tired himself out at school that day. Yet he knew, the moment Five sobered up, the illusion would crumble swiftly and without mercy. 'Funny, if I didn't know he was such a prick, I'd say he looks almost adorable in his sleep.'

Luther snorted. 'Well, don't worry. He'll sober up eventually... and be back to his normal, unpleasant self.'

That's not good enough. 'Yeah - I can't wait that long.' Diego spun on his heel, intending to grab provisions. Five had about ten minutes of rest before Diego would be ready to forcibly pull him into consciousness with soda crackers and ginger-ale. 'I need to find out what connections he has to these lunatics before someone else dies.'

Luther didn't respond right away, eyes flickering to Five and back. He looked pensive, uncomfortable. Diego still hadn’t gotten used to the subtle changes in Luther's personality; it was disquieting the way he looks so much bigger than he used to, and yet now he seems so much smaller to Diego than he ever physically was. The big man had an air of constant uncertainty around him.

'That stuff he was saying before...' Luther began after a moment, 'what do you think he meant by that?' Diego glanced over his shoulder at Five's sleeping figure, curled up tightly in foetal position. His expression darkened in his sleep, and Diego frowned. 'I don't know...' The words came slowly, his focus narrowing in on his littlest brother. He turned quickly again, box of soda crackers forgotten on his dingy counter.

Five began to fuss, still unconscious, but his body began to shake some, and his entire expression was pinched in discomfort. Luther was watching Diego, puzzled, and followed his eyes back to Five on the cot behind him.

Then came the screaming.

Both Luther and Diego jumped back in alarm as the most harrowing, stomach-churning scream came from Five. He was folded into himself, clutching at his own biceps so hard his knuckles were bone-white. The screams that were coming from him sounded so raw Diego was sure he was damaging his vocal cords in some way.

Luther came down from his initial shock quicker than Diego and was at the cot in an instant. Diego held his breath, jaw fighting to unhinge. He was always quick in his reflexes, but something held Diego down and glued his feet to the floor. His body was alarmingly stiff with inaction.

Luther was gripping at Five, holding him as he jerked back and forth, scream after scream tearing through his rattled body. Over and over Luther tried to talk over Five, wake him up, continuously asking him what is wrong and 'what is happening Five? Can't you hear me?'

'W-ww-why is h-h-h-he screaming like t-that?'

Diego’s broken voice was swallowed up in the cacophony of Five's agonising wailing and Luther's panicked mantra of Five, Five, Please Five, Five!

Five's painful screams were tearing bloody wounds into Diego’s eardrums, and the sound of his little brother in such convincingly raw misery pulled terrifying tremors up from deep within his belly.

Go.

What happened?

Iego.

Five?

'-Iego. Diego! Diego!' Luther's voice hit him like an anvil. 'Hey?'

Why is he screaming like that?

All at once life moved forward with a start. Air sucked its way back into Diego's lungs and his attention snapped to his brothers. Five was no longer on the bed, but crumpled over on their large brother's lap, clutching not his own arms anymore but instead had all ten, trembling fingers gripped into Luther's jacket for absolute, dear life. Luther had a pained expression etched into his normally hard visage, and his arms came up to hold Five in place as gently as Diego had ever seen his giant brother move. It only dawned on him then, that Five wasn't screaming anymore.

Diego moved quietly, setting himself on the bed next to his brothers as silently as he could, almost as if he were afraid to spook an already terrified deer pinned between a rocky ledge and an oncoming truck.

Mindlessly Diego laid his gloved hand to his little brother's head, cupping the back of it gingerly. Something heavy threatened to pull his heart into his guts, and the struggle disguised itself in the shadows of his expression.

For a while everything was deadly quiet. The pipes in the old building gurgled apropos nothing, the boxing business outside long closed for the evening with only Al's occasional footsteps any sure sign life still existed outside this hole he called home.

Diego couldn't hear much else, aside from the ragged breaths shaking Five's small chest. His eyes were still closed, creased with concern, delicate fans of black eyelashes twitching as his brain worked through whatever dark secrets Five hadn’t dared to yet share with any of his siblings.

'Five...' but Diego’s voice aborted the words in his throat, and he met Luther's eyes. He found no answers.

What did you see, Five?

--- Day 42.

A rat scampered past Five’s feet and jumped into a pile of debris outside the remains of a nearby fast-food joint. He shaded his eyes with his left hand and looked over the large expanse of the now lifeless tundra he used to call home. The details of everything in the distance dissolved into the intensely hot horizon.

‘Today is as good a day as any,’ he said, exhaling loudly. Dolores agreed from where she was perched in her wagon. I’m ready.

Five ripped off his weighty, layered scarf and tossed it to the ground. Today is the day. He was going to get back to his family.

He took another deep breath and ran over some calculations a final time in his head, his eyebrows pinching together with determination. Focus.

First, just a hum. Then, a moment later a spark. Five growled and redoubled his efforts, tightening his fists as hard as they would go, until the jagged half-moons of his nails cut right into the flesh of his palms.

‘Come on!’ And then it appeared. Small, at first, but definitely, absolutely, positively the start of the vortex, undeniable as it began flickering into existence. It was immediately apparent Five couldn’t do this for a second longer than he had to; every muscle in his body was desperately working to help him rip a hole right into the material of the space-time continuum, and pain blossomed in every limb, one after another.

‘COME ON!’ The air around the wormhole became unstable, trying to escape the vacuum and whipping everything around Five into a frenzy. Dolores tipped over in her wagon, and Five nearly lost his grip on the material of time. He willed himself into ignoring her momentarily, letting out a howl as he pulled open the vortex as far as it would go. Five inhaled shakily, and let go.

I did it. There it was. He was finally going home. Five’s knees nearly buckled underneath him as he was hit with a heady wave of excitement and relief. Luther. Vanya. Ben! Diego-- all of them. He was going to see them all again, today. Now. Tears spilt from his eyes, but he didn’t take any notice. There were flickers of life beyond the vortex, and then faces, and bodies, and Allison and Klaus, unmistakable as they filtered in and out of focus like the signal was dying on an old television set. Five was animated in an instant and turned to grab Dolores. They had to go. Now. He scooped up her feather-light body. ‘Leave it, Dolores! We don’t have time!’ He’d find her a new sweater once they were home. Hell, he’d buy her a whole rack of her own sweaters, anything Dolores wants, if only they got home right now.

And then the screaming came.

Five whipped around.

Again. First one voice, then two. Many more joined them, and Five ran toward the wormhole.

‘BEN!’

Ben? Five braced himself against the pull of the vortex, the air thin and difficult to pull into his lungs. It whipped around him with a force he’d never felt before, and his hat and goggles were snatched from his head and thrown well into the distance. The shrieking was getting louder, closer, and the images from the other side pieced together the closer Five inched into its grip. The voices were blood-curdling, and his whole body went cold with terror.

‘Diego, don’t!’

‘Ben! Klaus, get out of the way!’

‘BEEEEEEEEEEEENNN!’

‘BEN! WHATS HAPPENING!?’

‘BEN!’

No.

No, no.

He was going back, it was going to be okay. Five was going back, it was going to be okay.

It all happened within the span of three seconds.

The fuzzy images of his siblings running, screaming, blood soaked into their clothes, painted across their young faces – dripping from their feet as they scrambled away.

Ben.

Ben’s body dangling nearly fifteen feet off the ground, monstrous appendages thrashing wildly and destroying the surroundings with savage flings.

Two grotesque limbs held his bloodied and mangled brother skywards, uninhibited by his terrified screams.

No.

No. no. no. no.

No. no. no. no. no. nonononono-

‘Someone stop him!’

‘Klaus you can’t! KLAUS-‘

It felt like his skin was being flayed from his muscle. Five thought he might have been screaming too but couldn’t hear anything. All he knew for sure was the feeling of his molecules being pulled apart.

Everything was silent. Like the deadness of space itself, for a fraction of a second, a microscopic fragment of time - absolutely nothing existed. Crunch.

The blood that hit his face hurt. And then someone pressed play.

Everything moved again and it knocked the wind out of his lungs. Five was violently thrown from the throes of the wormhole, sucked back into his own point in time and tossed several feet backwards into strewn debris.

‘NO!’

The vortex he’d spent forty-two days working on was gone, just like that. Absorbed into the material of space, the deep wound he’d used every ounce of energy to create was now healed over in a matter of seconds, lost to some other dimension and out of his grasp. Ben. He’d promised him. He had promised his brother he would be there, that he would figure it out.

That Ben wouldn’t die. But Five let him. He watched the brutal final seconds of his brother’s life, his body torn into pieces by the beast he tried so hard to contain. Five wasn’t there.

He didn’t make it. He had told Ben he wouldn’t let him die, but he did, and Five just watched it happen, unable to do absolutely fucking shit. The sun was merciless. It baked Ben’s blood on every part that had briefly touched the other side. It settled into the cracks of the tattered skin on his right hand, pulled at the skin under his eyes and on his cheeks – crusted where it had dripped into his mouth and over his tongue. When the trance that numbed Five finally broke, it was nightfall.

He still sat on his haunches, a few fingers on his left hand barely curled around Dolores’ shirt. And when it did, and his throat finally moved to swallow, his limbs twitching with overwhelming pain, and his chest trembling violently, the only thing Five could feel was the fiery strain of the unending wailing that tore ceaselessly from his lungs.

#tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #request fill #ficlets #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #ben hargreeves #luther hargreeves #attempted canon-compliant angst featuring a bunch of the emotionally stunted man-children #my nonsense #mywriting #myworks #myficlets

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professionalfangirl24601 · 3 years

Text

AI continues the Riko roast attempt N2

in this one you'll see still no Riko, confused Kevin and Neil's questionable PR skills.

"You know, I get it," Neil said. "Being raised as a superstar must be really, really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you're worth a damn off the court—yeah, sounds rough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues all the time. I know it's not entirely your fault that you are mentally unbalanced and infected with these delusions of grandeur, and I know you're physically incapable of holding a decent conversation with anyone like every other normal human being can, but I don't think any of us should have to put up with this much of your bullshit. Pity only gets you so many concessions, and you used yours up about six insults ago. So please, please, just shut the fuck up and leave us alone. We'll come to your games in peace, and we'll buy your gear. But we'll only do that if you step aside and give me another go at this thing called life."

Neil watched Kevin in silence for several minutes before deciding that—for once—he had to say something. "Kevin, you're great on the court, and the star players in this league who don't know how to act around each other deserve a big applause. You're a great teammate, a solid community person, and a great player. And I'd take a red-hot Dirk Nowitzki in the Finals any day over you. I like a lot of the things that you do on and off the court. I just don't like you. And I'd really appreciate if you could just not be yourself around us. At least then we can have a conversation."

"Nah," Kevin replied after a long pause. "I'm going to be myself."

Taken aback, Neil nodded. "All right, Kevin. You can be yourself. But, you know, a few rules. First of all, you'll have to leave for all practice and shootarounds, and for team meals. I don't want you fucking up the guy's practice routine or spoiling his warm-up routine. And I don't want you parading around half-naked around the arena, much less take my job from me. And while we're on the subject of nudity, I can't have you acting like a jackass with a blown-up Pepsi banner on my back like some sort of tramp."

"Got it," Kevin replied. "I promise to do my best."

"Good. Now, I also need you to tone down your sarcasm, petulance, and dry wit," Neil added, "and stop throwing your mouth open like some sort of baby duck whenever you're excited about something. It's embarrassing. It makes you look like a little punk kid who's already finished with elementary school. Let's see, since you've become a star, your teammates have won five more playoff series and won one more NBA championship, which makes you the winningest player in the history of the team."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm the best."

Neil sighed. "Yes, Kevin, you are, and you know it. You're also the most hated. I know you probably don't want me to tell you this, but your public is starting to catch on to your royal punkiness. Fans are starting to ask when you're going to stop messing around and start being the good-natured soul that you truly are. And while they're asking, they're not as excited when they see you coming to the game anymore. Now that they're no longer getting everything for free, they're demanding a fraction of your paycheck and coming to games only if they've got a death wish.

A quick look at your recent numbers shows that you're never gonna be able to sustain your market value, so you're losing sponsors faster than a Zippy the Pinhead cartoon. I think it's time that you made some more changes to your image and get back to being the class clown. You're going to have to wear these goofy glasses that are now a part of your uniform. You're going to start speaking in a baby voice and begging reporters for softballs as if you were some poor, innocent baby who just wants to be noticed. Then, you're going to bring every scrap of lunch meat and grease-stained Kleenex into the locker room with you, and you're going to start sucking on garlic-flavored toothpicks as if you were some cheap wannabe poser trying to play the part of an intellectual.

And last, but not least, you're going to start jerking off and spraying your entire body with strong-smelling hairspray before going out for a road game, and after the game, you're going to do it again. And then, when you get home, you're going to do it some more. You'll also start sniffing your own armpits, licking them, and making weird comments like, 'Look at that freakin' blue streak in my dreary locks.' You're going to stand in front of your mirror and constantly ogle yourself in the toilet bowl. You're going to call yourself Ginger, gussy yourself up, and belt out 'White Wedding' in the shower, and if you have a date, you're going to purposely rip her clothes off and pretend that it was your idea all along."

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to ignore everything you just said, Neil," Kevin replied, trying to speak without giggling.

"Fine. So, then, what's your big idea, Kevin?"

"Oh, this is priceless." Kevin giggled maniacally, and his teammates yelled for him to shut the hell up.

"You're totally gonna be in movies," Neil said. "You're going to play the bad guy, but make sure you get the girl in the end. You're going to go undercover for weeks and sneak into death-metal concert events, where you're gonna stage fights, mess up everyone's hair, and drink bleach while being the absolute worst thing to ever hit a concert stage. People are gonna love it. You're going to start releasing dark, angst-filled folk-rock ballads, full of powerful emotion and heartache. You're going to start writing scathing criticism of the president and your teammates on your blog, but under a false identity so that nobody will recognize your name when you're actually being serious.

You're gonna get married, have two kids, and then have to suffer through a divorce that's so nasty that your ex-wife's going to get remarried within a month of the divorce. You're going to get beaten up regularly by her new boyfriend, who will be an enormous douche, and then have a car accident, and your legs will be broken so badly that you're going to need crutches. You're going to lose your job as a sportswriter, and then your wife's going to get fired from her job as a waitress because your friends will keep inviting her to your games. You're going to have to drive an old junker car that is crammed with mismatched parts, and you're going to have to flip yourself through traffic lights and weave in and out of oncoming cars while wearing a suit that's way too big for you. You'll bring hundreds of dollars of Taco Bell and Tostitos lunch meat into your home, and you'll be constantly sniffing your fingers like a dog, but somehow, that's going to work for you."

"Why don't you shut up?" Kevin demanded.

"I'm telling you, it's the perfect plan," Neil said Kevin finally stopped laughing and his cheeks began to redden.

"I'm sorry, but I don't get it."

"Well, all I can say is that you're damn lucky that the Sacramento Kings are playing against the San Jose Sharks this season, otherwise I'd lock you in your room right now, and I'd make you eat a full eight-course dinner," Neil replied. "I don't think you're ready for a Gregg Popovich type of coaching. I'll let you take the next couple of days to ponder this information."

"Uh, okay," Kevin said. "Thanks, Neil," he added quickly as he ran off to the bathroom to vomit in the toilet.

#i also tried to do one with Wymack's motivational speech and one of the lines it came up with was #the public thinks you're enough of a clown to play the games but too much of a pussy to actually win them #but then the page reloaded suddenly :(#aftg #neil josten #kevin day #aftg shitpost #funny #AI technology #this is the last one i swear

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

Up in the Clouds

Fandom: The PowerPuff Girls

Pairing: Blossick (Brick and Blossom aka Reds)

I have been on a hype for the Reds lately and i have almost forgotten how much i love my og otp. This fic is kinda of all over and messy but its cute and i like it. A little out of character but i have a soft spot for the hc that the boys grew up and soon they all became closer, so the most unoriginal idea ever.

Hope you enjoy! I should prob right for the other pairings too lol.

------

“For this assignment, you will be given an emotion at random and must write AND present about.” The class groaned as she handed out the papers. “You can look at it however you want. Whether its stating things that occur during emotion or what you personally feel, be creative. You’ll present at the end of the month.”

Brick took the papers and passed them back to the next student as the teacher came by and dropped a folded piece of paper on his desk.

“Also there will be no changes. You get what you get.” She stated and he rolled his eyes as he opened the small piece.

Love.

His hands crumbled the paper in his fist and he knew it would be pathetic to try and get someone to change. He could do this. All he needed to do was make up some sappy shit and piss on about it. He thought about talking about platonic love or family love. How even though his brothers made him want to smash their faces into walls until their blood flows down his hand, he still cared about them. It felt more like he was obligated too anyways.

“I got happiness, which is pretty vague. Hey Blossom? Which one did you get?” A fellow student, he thinks is named Alicia asked the pink puff.

“Oh I got sorrow.” She responded and everyone had gone into discussions about their ideas and assignments.

A guy turned to Brick to ask about his but he was already out the door as the bell rang.

The cafe welcomed him as the small bell chimed. His head had been a mess after the assignment was made and although he had seven drafts planned out, none of them seemed to work. He even asked Boomer about it and as he went into detail about a blue eyed, pig tailed super hero, Brick was already regretting asking him.

He ordered at the counter, just a simple soda and a crepe and turned to find a seat. He saw an empty table pressed against the wall to his left but as he turned to the right he saw another table. Occupied with a pink eyed, bow wearing superhero.

He was already at the table before he registered what was happening. She seemed to be alone and he took her by surprise as she looked up.

“Oh, Hi Brick.” She said and he gestured to the seat and she scooted a book out of the way before he plopped down.

“What are you doing here, its like eight o’clock on a school night.” He noticed that the sun was dying down.

She shrugged and pointed to her milkshake. “I had a craving, plus I have a late start period for school so I came here to clear my head. Plus Bubbles was being especially loud on the phone.” he already knew that she was referring to her and Boomer. They had been talking nonstop and not even a lamp thrown at his head would shut him up.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him and he mimicked the shrug and pointed to his crepe.

“Cravings. And needed some space, this English assignment is kicking my ass.” He didn’t know why he admitted to that and he saw her eyes perk up.

“The emotion one?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

That took him by surprise. She was the one who was always raving with emotion, this should be a breeze.

“What did you get?” She asked him. His eyes traveled to his plate were warm chocolate and fresh strawberries collided.

“Strawberry.”

She let out a small laugh and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“I meant for the project.”

oh.

He felt incredibly dumb at that moment and she bubbled out another laugh. That small sound was actually pleasant to hear and for some reason, he wanted to hear it again and again.

“Oh. Um I got love.” He didn’t know why he felt slightly embarrassed and he picked up his drink to chugged it down as she held a puzzling expression.

“Hmm that is a tough one. There’s all types of love.”

“That’s what i was thinking. Well, what about you?”

“Sorrow.”

“Well that’s easy, just pick something sad.”

She said nothing for a moment and instead went to her milkshake, which he noticed was also strawberry, not that it mattered.

“I don’t think its thats simple. Jeremy got sad and I got sorrow so i need to make sure it doesn’t sound similar.”

“But they are similar.”

“Well yes but-”

“Just talk about a loss you had as a superhero. What it feels like to not be able to save the day or something.” He was met with another round of silence.

Her eyes traveled outside the window. the sun was now in its sunset glow and the sky had become a mixture of purple and pink as it faded out the blue. From the cafe you could see the lines of the city skyscrapers blending into the sky. It was quiet on this side of town and he wondered what it would be like to float onto those clouds, careless and free.

And so they did. After she finished her milkshake and he his soda, he posed that they traveled to where only they could go. Why? He didn’t know and neither did she.

Her legs dangled off the cloud that hovered just above the ocean. Some would be afraid that they would fall through but they had used their powers to keep them up.

The cool air blew against their faces and he felt like he could breath better than on the ground.

“Have you ever been in love?” She asked out of the blue, her eyes were focused on the small waves rolling onto to the shore.

“No.” A simple answer that he wasn’t to sure of. he should of been certain. he didn’t know what love, a romantic connection felt like. He had dated girls before, all throughout middle and high school but never once did those words cross his mind.

“Me either.” She responded and he turned towards her.

It was almost as if he couldn’t breath. A swell inside his chest had taken hold and he wondered why she looked so...beautiful against the light. the soft glow of the sun setting made her hair more vibrant and her baby pink eyes sparkle. He wanted to scream at himself for thinking like that but when she turned and caught his eyes, he watched the blush spread slowly on her fair skin and that protest had been silenced.

They held each others gaze. He was right, he had never been in love before, but if he had then he would need a new word for what was happening to him now. His memory fled back to every girl he had ever dated and some how, somewhere, she was there in the background. During their fights or even civil conversations, she was the only one to catch his attention.

They had grown up together, viciously of course but after spending his adolescent wanted to rip her head off, he just wanted to pull her close. He never believed in fate or soulmates or what not but sometimes, even as a stupid kid, he wondered if that pink counterpart of a girl was actually made for him.

“Thats a shame.” He whispered and he leaned closer as she did the same.

“For the both of us.” But they barely beard her words as their lips connected.

Her lips were soft as the cloud they were on. The taste of strawberry was on her lips and her hands wrapped around his neck as his got lost in her long ginger locks. They had spent all their time avoiding each other when they both knew that they would always return to each other.

Every break up was about her. The girl getting mad at how he stared at her or made time to study but not for them. he didn’t realize it until now but that hatred he carried at the start of his creation had melted away slowly like an icicle at the end of winter.

They pulled away and it felt colder than it was before. Her eyes still locked to his. Pink and Red. Just like the sunset and sky. Just like the glow of a bright raging fire. Just like them.

it felt like eons had passed before she looked towards the city. That vibrant sunset was long gone as the sky had turned a deep black and was now painted with stars.

“i should go.” She said but it sounded forced as if she was saying she didn’t want to.

He nodded and they agreed that it was best to part separate since she lived on the other side. He helped her stand up, their feet sinking into the cloud and she turned to him with a soft smile. “Have a nice night Brick.” And soon the dark sky had a flash of pink that disappeared quickly under the stars.

Bricks mind was lost and he tapped his pencil to his desk quietly. the presentations had started for the week and so far happiness, anger, fear and sorrow were up. His mind finally came back to focus towards the end of Blossoms piece and he had cursed himself for barely hearing the first half.

“Its empty and cold, like an unforgiving stare. It haunts you in your dreams and leaves you feeling numb. It lingers and when you think that the pain and suffering is done, it washes over you again, taking and taking until the only sensation left is a hollow shell.

My sisters and I have felt this on multiple occasions. When you can’t save everyone and feel the pity and sadness within the air. But joy and laughter can bring the sadness to a end. The sorrowfulness lasts longer than you think. And it makes you believe that nothing matters anymore.” Blossom finished the last of her piece. Her eyes, along with others in the class had glazed over and she was sure her teacher had been brought to tears at her story and ending.

The applause from the class surrounded the room and she took a small bow before returning to her seat.

Maybe after class they could talk.

The bell sounded through the class and Blossom made her way out of the class. Another school day over.

“Hey.” She turned to see Brick. The students around them were bush trying to leave and get out quickly before a line at the parking lot formed.

“Hey” She returned softly and it dawned on them that they really didn’t know what was between them.

That night a few weeks ago had not be forgotten but was placed high up on a shelf, they almost forgot about it, almost. Its not like they were avoiding each other, no, school and work had overcome both of their lives, mostly hers of course.

“So do you maybe wanna go-” He started but the red pair was interrupted with a flash of blue between them.

“Hey Blossom! Hi Brick.” Bubbles smiled brightly. “Oh Bloss just to let ya know tonight is Sister Showdown.” Her smile held a evil glare and she turned and exited school.

“What the hell is Sister Showdown?” He asked and Blossom blew up her bangs.

“Its a competition thing between Bubbles and Buttercup. Last time one was held, we had to replace our roof so I’d rather not be there.” The hallways were no empty and it was just them. “So what were you saying?”

They ended up at the cafe for the third time that week. Every milkshake and crepe was finished with a trip to the clouds as they watched the sun set. They never spoke about what they were or the emotions, just enjoyed each others company and maybe left the night with a kiss or two.

They talked about anything and everything, sometimes just sitting quietly and counting the waves.

Her sisters would asked where shes been and she had the same studying excuse before humming to herself and falling asleep with a smile at her lips.

His brothers would hound on him, teasing him and slapping him until he would throw them off and the subject would be dropped, but they never missed the fact that he was in a better mood.

It was their secret. The clouds and them. He found it easier and easier to write his paper after watching endless movies, though in the back of his mind, the two main love interest were always replaced with a pair of redheads. Pink and red.

The end of the presentation days came and of course Brick was the last to go.

“That’s the thing about love. You think you know yourself as the days go by, that you recognize every moment as what they are. Love can’t blind you if you’re always aware. It won’t bother you as you keep it in line, making sure that you don’t slip up as you keep reminding yourself there’s no point.” He looked up and was met with a wide pair of eyes.

Pink. Bright pink.

“And then you jolt awake. It hits you faster than the speed of light and soon you are falling. Your lungs squeeze tight as you gasp for air and only when you admit to yourself is when you can breath. Love will force you to look at all the positives. It forces that other person onto a silver platter and a podium that is so small, only they can stand on it. They might not think they are perfect but your mind becomes numb and blind to the heart, its the only explanation. That’s the thing about love, right when you think you’ve fallen, you hit the ground.”

He hadn’t even looked at his paper as his eyes were still lined with hers. The applause in the room shook him to his core as he broke the gaze held with the fiery redheaded girl.

“And when you never think love will come towards you, you might find that its been there all along.”

He couldn’t tell you what the teacher said as he returned to his seat and his mouth was parted open slightly as it dawned on him what he had just done.

He wrote that for the assignment. Based off of shitty romance novels and movies. But in the end, it had been for her.

Always her.

She found him high up in the clouds that night. They hadn’t spoken since and every word he said had ran through his mind.

Their shoulders touched as she sat next to him. Both their eyes focused on the waves below. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt natural and good. Although the quiet night was peaceful, he was ridged and frozen in place.

Even with his blank expression, she could tell his mind was racing. He was choosing his words and mapping out the thoughts and scenarios one by one. And she was doing that too but there were times where planning and perfection weren’t always the best plans.

He turned towards her, his mouth open as if he were ready to speak but she had already decided that he had said enough. The next thing he knew, her lips were connected with his.

Its soft and sweet. Delicate but fragile. His eyes had closed and his hand gently rested on her cheek as she leaned into his touch. He could hear her heartbeat thumping at a fast pace and knew his was just the same. A small sound escaped her lips as he tilted his head and soon her arms were around his shoulders as they fell deeper into each other. She could feel the smirk on his lips as they pulled away.

Both breathing heavily for air as their foreheads rested against one another.

“Did-did you mean what you said.” She whispered and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Everything you said?”

He rested the urge to not pull her back into another breathtaking kiss but instead raised an eyebrow. “What if it wasn’t about you?” He teased but they both knew the truth. They couldn’t lie anymore, not to each other at least.

She smirked as she placed down between them before meeting his eyes. That motion alone had him spiraling as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing his. “Then I guess it would be a shame to say that I’ve fallen.”

“It would be a shame for the both of us.” He kissed her. “But I’ve been on the ground for a long time.”

“Good.”

---

I hope you liked it!!!

#blossom x brick #blossick #blossick fanfic #powerpuff girls #ppg x rrb #ppg #rrb #ppg fanfic #thewritingstar #reds #blossom ppg #brick rrb

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bountifulberries · 4 years

Photo

Introducing...Aspen Whyte!

Aspen is for @toxoplasmajuice‘s Atkins MMBC!

Aspen is a trans guy (he/him) who, despite his appearance, is not a berry Sim. He used to be a ginger, but he was never quite this pale before--but all of that changed when his entire town suffered radiation poisoning when a nuclear reactor miles away exploded. Though most of the others had “normal” (but horrific) reactions to the exposure, like skin damage, tooth decay, and damage to their eyesight, Aspen’s health is essentially normal--he just, you know, gradually developed bleach-white skin and hair. The orange that’s left in is hair is the last that’s left to him of his old life. Aspen never had any siblings and only ever had contact with one of his moms, and she insisted on staying behind in their town to help some of the sicker and more elderly neighbors with their radiation-induced suffering. Aspen considered himself lucky that his health wasn’t majorly impacted and decided he didn’t want to risk that luck by continuing his exposure, so he’s been hitchhiking west for almost a year now. It’s hard to get people to be willing to pick you up when you’re white as a ghost (and when the really suspicious people start spreading rumors that there’s a rake [warning: rakes are creepy af] stalking the highway), but he’s managed to get this far. He doesn’t have a particular goal or end destination in mind--or else, he didn’t, until he found out about this BC. Why not?

CC: Hair, Top Surgery Scars

You can change his clothes if you want to if it makes sense in the story--like idk somebody finding something for him, but otherwise please keep them ripped. Also, if you’d like, you can at some point change his hair to all white (e.g. if it grows out longer and he gets a haircut that removes the remaining orange. He’s ready to embrace having totally white hair lol).

Download is private, I think?

Interview Questions under the cut!

In-Character

My name is Aspen Whyte. I’m 24 and trans, use he/him pronouns. Yes, my last name was Whyte before the explosion. I’m from Foundryville, PA, which I don’t expect anybody to know about. Yes, I am a long way from home, and yes it has taken me a looong time to get here. I’m an Aries, if that means anything to you.

I had half a mind to become a chef, before all of this. I know I’m 24 and should probably have figured some of that out already, but I dropped out of high school when I was 17 and didn’t get my GRE until I was 22. Community college doing nothing for a year, and then...well, boom. Hard to focus on your career when everyone around you is succumbing to radiation poisoning. Umm, but yeah, being a chef would be cool.

I’m a really good cook. I also have really great endurance--like, when I walk and run. I can go a long time without much pausing. And I’m pretty good at first aid, I can even give stitches. I haven’t had much time for hobbies since I’ve been on the road, but in all that time between dropping out and getting my GRE I actually became really good at embroidery and had a pretty successful Etsy shop. I shut it down after a few years because I got sick and tired of doing nothing but keeping up with orders, but I still like embroidery. It took me a long time to get good at it, so I hope I haven’t lost my touch.

I didn’t really date before my medical transition because I wasn’t really comfortable with myself. Not to say people didn’t want to date me, but I just wasn’t interested. So I really didn’t start dating until I was like, 19 I guess, and I haven’t had anything super long-term. One person actually was just using me to get free custom embroidery for him and his friends, can you believe that? Anyway, I’ve dated mostly guys, and probably wouldn’t date a woman, but who knows, you know?

I have been aimlessly wandering this country for like, a year. And yes, it is lonely and kind of boring. Like, I love my solitude, but damn, I also really miss people. So I like the idea of finding a partner, but I also really like the idea of being in a house with other people. I know I’m going to eat those words within like, a day, but I think my sanity needs me to be stuck with a consistent group for a while.

I’ve been picked up a few times for minor offenses. Vandalism, stealing stuff like basic food staples, disorderly conduct, public urination...it happens, when you don’t have a house or a car or an income or really anything consistent or reliable in your life. I’ve never hurt anybody.

My favorite book growing up was The Road. Ironic, right?

Ummm, I take vitamin D-supplements and require a lot of sunscreen. It’s not exactly a curse but it has literally always rained on my birthday (April 17) every year I’ve been alive, so that’s got to mean something, right?

Like I said, I left my mom, but I’ve always called her whenever I could manage to charge my phone. I don’t feel like I’m leaving much else behind--my town never really felt that important to me. Don’t tell my mom I said that, though. Her family has been there for years and she’s weirdly attached to it.

Buy some new goddamn clothes. I’ve kept most of my stuff pretty nice because, I don’t know, my clothes are an important part of my identity, but clearly I had to let some of them go to shit on the way here. So shopping for some nice new, not-falling-apart casual wear would be great. Oh, also, I’d really like to go on a sailboat. I never got to do that before all of this.

OOC Questions

Feel free to draw him :)

Hmm, he’s sarcastic and can get a little snippy. He uses a lot of rhetorical questions and emphasizes his words potentially too often. That was probably easy to see though lol

Aspen has been living that minimalist lifestyle for a while considering he did not have anywhere he actually lived, so he won’t have brought much with him--you could throw a backpack in the corner or something? However, I think he would quickly get sick of having bare, sterile-looking walls, so any of the outdoorsy paintings EA has would be a good fit for him. I couldn’t find any embroidery hoop CC that’s for Sims 3 :(

I will absolutely be around! You have me on like four social medias so you’re bound to get ahold of me somewhere lol

#aspen whyte #toxoplasmajuice #atkins mmbc #to be released #mine

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amintyworld · 5 years

Text

A Sick Day- Sanders Sides Oneshot

Summary: Remus gets sick, and the others take care of him. Little did they know what was to come.

TW: Yelling, sickness, throwing up, being physically weak, concern, hugs, slight cursing.

Hope you enjoy, my fellow fanders!!!! - Minty

Remus coughed as he pulled the trash bag blankets around him closer. He felt sweaty and cold, a box of tissues near his bed. He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time in Roman's realm, but it was extremely hilarious to see him run away from his own castle as it hopped to eat him. Remus laughed at the thought as he was thrown into another coughing fit.

His throat was so dry it hurt to cough, and he wished, no, begged for water. Anything to get some relief. He snapped his fingers, sniffling, and sighed in frustration when nothing happened. Of course, why didn't he remember?! His powers were useless when he was sick.

His eyes widened quickly as he leaned over his trash can, vomiting. When he was done, he placed his head back on his ripped pillows, shivering. No one was coming for him, no one even visited him.

He'd just have to tough it out, like always.

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

Roman felt weird, like something was...off. On any other normal day, Roman would've just ignored it, or pass it off as exhaustion. But for some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling.

They were all sitting in the living room - Patton and Virgil on the floor, cuddled together in a blanket, with Logan sitting opposite, deep into his book. Roman hopped off the couch, looking around, trying to find the cause of his distress.

"What are you doing, Princey, you're missing your favorite part!" Virgil asked as he noticed Roman looking around, confusion clear on his face.

Roman didn't answer.

"Uh, kiddo, is uh...is something wrong?" Patton said, Virgil's comment drawing his attention from the movie. Logan glanced up from his book at the commotion.

"Something's…" Roman trailed off for a moment. "Something's wrong, I...I know something's wrong, but I...I don't know what."

"It could just be paranoia." Virgil offered, shifting uneasily on the floor. Patton and Logan glanced at each other for a brief moment, both slightly confused themselves.

Logan placed his bookmark in his book, closing it. "No, Virgil I think it might be more than that." Patton sat up, curious. "It, well, it could be… Remus."

"W-what?" Roman asked. "Do...do we have twin powers or something?"

Logan sighed, punching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "No, Roman. You two used to be together, remember?" He said. "It is possible you two share a sort of… sense. After all, you were both once the same side."

"Wait a minute, Specs." Virgil interjected. "Are you saying that Roman can sense when something's wrong with Remus?"

"It's theoretically possible, yes." Logan said.

"I have the force…" Roman whispered, looking at his hands in awe.

"No, Roman that's not-" Logan huffed, one hundred percent done with Roman's nonsense.

"Is Remus in trouble, if Roman's feeling like this?" Patton piped up.

"It would be worth testing that theory." Logan said. "Good idea, Patton."

"So, are we gonna summon him, or…" Virgil asked, standing up from his place on the floor, the movie well forgotten.

"That would be ideal, yes. Roman?"

"On it, Calculator Watch!" Roman said, raising his hand, summoning the stinky side.

He arose, trash bag around him, hunched over but stood up straighter when he noticed he had an audience. "Oh, um, h-hey guys!" He said, voice slightly cracked. "What's...what's up?"

"We were just checking to see if you were alright, Remus. Roman had a feeling you were not." Logan said, inspecting the side.

"Oh, no need to worry about me, Specs! I'm completely fine!" Remus smiled, a bit too wide.

"Are...are you sure, Rem?" Roman asked, concern clear on his face. "You don't look so good."

"Of course, Ro Bro! Anywho, since that's all settled, I'll be going now!" Remus said, desperately trying to sink down with no avail. He felt everyone's stares on him. "Please, don't worry, really! I'm-"

The room started spinning, sending Remus to the floor. Patton, like any good, fatherly side, rushed over to help, Logan not far behind.

"Guess he wasn't okay." Virgil added, wanting to help but not knowing how.

"Guys, how do we know this isn't one of his tricks?" Roman asked, concerned of course, but cautious.

"Does this look like a trick to you?!" Patton yelled. "He nearly cracked his skull open hitting the floor! No matter our thoughts and opinions, we're all Thomas's sides. Remus, he's… he's a side just like us. And...and right now, he NEEDS us."

Roman nodded briskly, walking over to his brother's side. He could almost see young Remus, challenging him on crazy adventures where they'd both end up bruised. His smile and laugh as he fell flat on his face more times than he could count.

"You're right." Roman said looking between the two, standing over his brother. "How can I help?"

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

Remus felt tired.

So...incredibly...tired….

His head throbbed, and he struggled to shift his position, to move. What...what happened? He groaned at the sudden, uncomfortable sensation.

"Don't move, okay?" A warm, comforting voice echoed. "Just… just breathe."

His eyes snapped open as his head stung. He clenched his teeth at the pain, and directly above him was Logan, drawing out any chance of an infection. Patton walked in with a fuzzy green blanket and a thermometer. He heard background noise from the kitchen as Logan set down his soaked cotton ball to hold his head steady.

"Do not move as much as possible, Remus. It will only make things worse."

Patton laid the blanket up to his chin, engulfing him with warmth. Before Remus could question why they were helping him in the first place - after all, he was a dark side - Patton shoved the thermometer in his mouth.

"MHPH!"

"Under the tongue, Remus." Patton commanded sternly, the thermometer beeping after a minute. He pulled it out as quickly as it was shoved in, checking the temperature with wide eyes. "101.1! Dammit, Remus. You're running a fever."

"But, Patton-"

Logan quickly bandaged the small wound on Remus's head quickly, moving off near the top of the couch and disappearing out of sight. Patton ran off quickly as well, mumbling something about a 'cool cloth'. Remus was very well beyond confused. The comforting warmth of the blanket wrapped around him turned fiery, and he kicked it off, his stomach rumbling in a somewhat familiar way. His eyes widened, and Virgil dove for the trash can to catch it.

"Jesus Christ that was close." Virgil mumbled, holding Remus's hair back as he puked. "Give a side some warning next time, okay?" Virgil smirked. When he was done, Virgil wiped his mouth and laid him back down. He sat next to him, keeping him company.

Roman walked in a few minutes later with some saltines and a can of ginger ale. He even put Remus's favorite straw inside - the thick washable green straw that went through a black plastic mustache. After setting the snacks on the couch side table, he rubbed Remus's back lovingly, giving him comfort. "Oh Rem, you stubborn being of a brother…"

"Well, I can't take all the credit, Ro." Remus croaked, joking, feeling at ease, the fear that they might've ignored him, or worse, tie him up, thinking it was all a facade, gone.

They...they were really helping him. After everything he's done, to not just him, but to...to Thomas.

When Patton placed a cold cloth on his head and pulled up his blankets again at Remus's request, Remus felt tired. A sort of comfortable, good, tired.

They all sat around him, just as they were before he arrived, Remus between Logan and Roman on the couch. Remus, for the first time in a, well, long time, felt loved. So much love he felt he didn't deserve, yet, here they were, taking care of him.

A dark side.

Remus felt like… like he was home. The same feeling he used to get when Roman would show him all the wonders he created, or when Deceit would comfort him when he used to cry. He felt so comfortable, so tired, he yawned, ready for a nap.

His eyes were just about to close, when-

"Remus Insanity Sanders! Of all the stupid places to go when you're delirious, you just HAD to go to-" Deceit burst through the door, annoyed, and very angry, to find the most unusual thing he had ever seen. He stopped right in his tracks, completely silent, taking it all in. It was weird, he would admit, seeing Remus cuddling with them.

"H-hey, Dee. Long time no see, huh?" Remus said nervously. Deceit shook away the sight in front of him. He walked up, hands on his hips.

"Yeah, well it looks like just 'no see' at all. You scared me, Rem! I walk in to check on you and you're just gone!"

"That would be our fault, Deceit. Roman seems to know when Remus is hurt or in pain, so we just wanted to check in, but didn't realize the state of his condition." Logan said, looking up from his book for the second time that afternoon. This has to be some sort of record for Logan at this point.

"Well," Deceit said. "I'm glad you've helped him, at least, this time."

"Wait…'this time'?" Roman asked.

"Yeah, he usually just goes to tough it out in his room. I check in on him, help him out the best I can, but I can only do so much in the Darkscape." Deceit stated, arms crossed. "SOME of us can't summon medical supplies on a whim."

Roman looked at his brother in disbelief. "Why didn't you come to us, we could've helped you! We...we could've…" Roman trailed off.

"It's...it's okay, Roman, really." Remus said. "I'm a dark side."

Those two words ignited a flame in Roman, mostly because his own brother was suffering in silence because...because of a stupid rule! He stood, delivering a message none of them would ever forget, for what he said next changed the Mindscape forever.

"Dark Side, Light Side, why does it matter?!" Roman yelled. "At the end of the day, we're all Thomas's sides, aren't we?!"

"But...but didn't you make-?"

"And you know what, Deceit?! I wish I'd never opened my big fat mouth and made them in the first place!" Roman yelled at Deceit, shocking him silent.

"We NEED each other, I don't think we can survive without each other. Despite what we think is best for Thomas, we're the only family any of us got." Roman looked around the room. "So I say, who cares about some freaking rules?! No more dividing us, when we should be uniting us." He looked back to Remus with a small smile. "Let's give this a try, okay?" Roman held out his hand to Remus, who smiled, taking it and pulling him into a hug.

"Okay, brother." Remus said. "Let's try."

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xxsovereignsarayaxx · 5 years

Text

Supernatural - Road to Revenge Chapter 5

Authors Note: I want to thank my darling @evilispretty-dead for helping me finish this chapter and reassuring me that it wasn't a load of crap. As always if you want to be tagged to keep up to date with the series let me know or is you have a request pop me an ask. After spending some time on this chapter I really do like this one and it might have been my favourite so far to write.

Word Count: 3234

Warnings: Blood, Torture, Implied Sex, Angry Dean.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

“Well, well, well.” Said the unknown voice.

It’s true when they say that once one of your senses is removed, your other remaining ones are heightened. All I could see was darkness but that was because I had something covering my face, a bag or blindfold perhaps. But the room itself was cold and had wooden floorboards judging by the creeks it made when I shifted about in the chair that bound me. The odd bit of breeze passed me as I presumed my captor circled me like a bit of prey.

“I heard you were looking for me, but looks like I found you first. I’m Actaeon but you already knew that. You don’t seem to be wanting to put up much of a fight, it's a shame really. Your sister Nia was it? She was much more entertaining.” The voice continued in a sickerning tone. I could feel the breath right in front of my face.

“Well being trained by ‘The Men of Letters’ we were taught many things, being captured by demons happened to be on the teaching itenary. Just in time before the summer holidays.” I sassed back.

The object covering my eyes was ripped off, the thin piece of fabric fluttered to the floor, this was the first time I had looked my captor in their eyes. Making sure to steady my breathing I didn’t want him to think that I was scared, to think that I was weak. That I knew I was not. My eyes quickly darted to parts of the room. Even though it was dark I could see the faint trickle of light coming through the door frame. I tried to twist my bound wrists but to no avail.

“Now, now little one, it is a shame really though. I saw what you were becoming all those years ago. Cold and heartless ready to take a life when you were told to. Pity that once you fell into the clutches of John Winchester and his boys you gained the one thing I despise.”

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“Compassion.” Actaeon sneered, walking towards a table covered by the shadows. He picked up something I couldn’t see what it was but I knew that he wanted to inflict some form of pain.

Actaeon held the knife close to my features. “You had so much potential and you wasted it all. I’m disappointed Nicole I really am.”

I shuddered slightly. “I killed your kind! Demons, monsters and ghosts you name it I was sent to kill it.” I spat.

“And who do you think helped give the locations of some of those cases you had? I needed someone to hunt down certain people so I could get a higher position in hell.”

“Yet it was Crowley who helped me track you down. He wants you gone. What was it he said to me? Oh yeah...Bad boys get punished...” I said trying to struggle away from the knife.

“But look at the predicament you're in, a knife to your throat. No way out and even if you free yourself of your bounds you don’t stand a chance against me. But aren't you curious why I murdered your sister?”

“I’m not stupid Actaeon you want to bait me. So I lose my temper, so you have the upper hand, you want me to cloud my judgement with my emotions. Even though it pains me to say this, Nia was an easy opportunity; she was a simple throwaway toy for you. But with her you could also kill two birds with one stone. Yes you wanted the scroll from the painting but the thing you wanted more was me. You wanted me to suffer because I killed your love. Cecilia. She was my first demon kill and what you hated the most was the fact I was just a child.” I replied to him. My voice was strong and dominating. I showed no weaknesses towards him.

“So you do remember then?” Actaeon asked me, bending down to my eye level.

“I always remember.”

Night was always the easiest to work, there were always less people about which meant less witnesses. As I ran at full speed through a puddle water droplets splashed on my face I turned the corner and I knew that my trap had worked. I clutched my angel blade in my right hand and the remains of some holy water in my left.

“Chirsto.” I shouted and the demon fell to her knees. She looked in pain and blond curls fell over her face.

“P-please don’t” She begged.

“You are a demon...Demons don’t deserve to live. You have taken the lives of so many people but it is ironic that you will die by my hand. A child’s hand no less.”

I stepped closer so that I was literally inches away. I splashed the remaining water I had on the face of the demon. She screamed in agony.

I screamed in agony, something that I was now sharing with my first kill. The knife Actaeon held moved upwards to my cheek and he dragged it down towards my neck and past my collarbone. The knife was cold as the metal touched my skin but as the blade tore through me it brought me back to reality.

“Now this is getting me excited, little one.” Actaeon said breaking the torture he lifted the knife to his lips licking the blood that dripped off the edge of the blade.

“Just do what you want to me, get it over with. You’ve killed my family and Dean and Sam? They won’t miss me when I’ve gone.” I said sheepishly. Whatever confidence I had before melted away I knew deep down I wasn’t going to leave alive.

Actaeon continued the assault. My clothes had been torn and now covered in blood. My face, neck, torso and arms were littered in cuts. I was now nothing more than a shell of my previous self. Hell bent on revenge. And what I told Dean in the past. And when he repeated my own words to me I knew he was right.

With each cut I cried out for help.

“Revenge is a dangerous road to go down Dean! Your head gets filled with emotions and then your judgement is clouded, you don’t think straight and then that's when you get reckless. Trust me I know.”

Recalling another memory I hung my head in shame. I knew I wasn’t the person ‘The Men of Letters’ tried to mould me to be. I was my own person. I forged my own path thanks to learning the Winchester way. You look out for those who you love. Because a wise salty hunter with a phobia of salad and lover of bullets, booze and bacon once told me that family, don’t end in blood. But it doesn’t start there either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them, family’s there for the good the bad all of it. They got your back even when it hurts.

“Come now little one, the fun is just beginning. Now where to find your anti-possession tattoo. Shall you tell me or am I going to have to just rip every single piece of clothing from your body to find it?” Actaeon said breaking my train of thought.

I struggled once more on my bindings, I made a mistake going after Nia’s killer alone. I needed my family. I needed Dean. Actaeon grabbed my chin tightly. “So you finally want to plead for your life?”

“My name is Nicole Marie Williams and today isn’t my time to die.” I shouted and kicked Actaeon in between his legs. He might be a demon but even demons felt that. My blow caused him to fall to a knee and I used that time to try and wiggle free. Fresh rope burns went over the older ones but all of a sudden the door to the room flew open and two figures stepped through.

“You’ve been a very bad boy…” Crowley says dripping with sarcasm.

Within seconds a blast sent Actaeon across the room and pinned to a nearby wall.

“Shall I end him Fergus?” Said the ginger haired witch I loved but hated at the same time.

“Not today mother that job belongs to Fawn here.” Crowley says slicing through the rope with his angel blade. As I shrugged out of the bindings I picked myself up, I wobbled a little and my head swam because of the blood loss from my injuries but I took the blade from Crowley and made my way over to the demon pinned by magic.

“I can see the look in your eyes, you're scared. Now you know some of the pain my sister felt and all of the others you have murdered for sport. I hope you get what you deserve you son of a bitch!” And with that I plunged the blade into his heart. The magic that once held him vanished and his body dropped to the floor in a heap . I turned to face Crowley and Rowena.

“Thank you…” I whispered to them.

“Well I suppose you should get back to your boys, I mean I sent them halfway across the country. Their worried sick Nicole dear.”

“I know I have a lot of making up to do, but I want to make us even.” I said as I bent down and searched for the scroll in the fallen demons pockets.

“This should make us even.” I told the demon and witch as I handed the scroll that started the whole ordeal.

“Is that...The souls of Gabriel?” Rowena asked with her thick scottish accent.

“That mother it is.”

“Nicole dear, I sent Dean and Sam to Oregon two days ago. If you leave now you might make it back before them.”

I nodded my head slowly and with a small smile I handed Crowley his blade and left the building.

The drive back to Kansas was long and grueling, I had no idea what to say to Sam nor Dean but I knew I had to come up with something. We were a family and with my actions I felt I had almost destroyed it. When I got back to the bunker I needed to patch myself up. I needed several stitches for the wounds that Actaeon had inflicted but the one thing that I had set my mind to. Cas would not be healing me, each scratch, each mark I will be remembering and if I would be left with scars then so be it.

I pulled into the bunker late in the evening, I remember leaving where I was being held at night but I felt like I had something stuck in my throat as I saw the Impala parked in the drive. My muscles ached from everything I had been through.

As I heaved myself from the old battered car I had ‘borrowed’ I made my way to the door. I supported my right arm with my left hand due to the deep wound. But I just stood there looking at the door handle. I was nervous...No petrified was more like it. My breathing intensified and I started to sweat and my body shook in fear. I had no idea what was happening to me but I wanted it to stop. I felt tears leak from my eyes and they made my face sting as the droplets rolled into some of the cuts on my face. With a shaky hand I reached for the handle and opened the heavy metal door. I felt like bambi on ice as I took small steps and carefully took to the stairs. I looked down to see both brothers stare at me in pure horror…

“It’s done…” I muttered as I took the last final steps to the ground. Dean had gotten up from his seat and left leaving me with Sam.

“Nik what happened?” He asked, guiding my frail body to the chairs in the library.

“What needed to be done, Actaeon is gone.” I whispered, not looking at Sam.

I sat in silence as Sam started to patch me up, I felt the burn of the rubbing alcohol as he cleaned each one of my wounds. I felt each time the needle went in and out of my skin. But I refused to mutter a word. In the past I had been shot at, stabbed but this time I felt more pain than anything else I had experienced.

About twenty minutes had passed and Sam had finally finished the last stitch, he tried to get some small talk out of me but I stayed silent. I looked down seeing the vast amount of bandages on my arms and the large one on my collarbone and neck. Stretching my arms I looked up seeing Sam place the unused first aid items away and throwing the used wipes and wrappers in the bin. He looked at me offering a small smile.

“Nik, it’s ok please talk to me.” He offered as he tried to reassure me.

I opened my mouth but then shut it just as quickly. I looked down at the floor.

“How bad is it?” I asked softly.

“Dean’s...He...He’s angry Nik. He’s angry that you left him to deal with this on your own. That whatever was in your past you felt the need to keep from us. That you don’t trust us enough to know what happened.” Sam responded.

“What about you? How do you feel?” I whispered.

“I kept the thing about ‘The Book of the Damned’ a secret so we’re even but you never hide things away from my brother Nik, he is also pissed that you punched him.” Sam said ending his sentence with a chuckle.

“I didn’t want Actaeon to use Dean or me as leverage for one another, but I also didn’t want Dean finding out who I really was all those years ago. I thought it would scare him.” I said honestly.

“Speaking of that, what did you mean when you told Dean about running away from your old home?” Sam asked hoping you would speak to him.

“Let me get things right with Dean and I’ll tell you both everything. I promise.” I murmured

Sam nodded. I got up from the chair and steadily headed down the hallway. Using the walls to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall. I stood in front of our bedroom door and I paused for a moment. I felt the rush of the nervousness and fear once more. With a shaky hand, I knocked on the door softly with my knuckle. Then I reached for the golden doorknob and opened the door slowly. I saw Dean sat at the edge of the bed hunched over resting his forearms on his knees. He didn’t acknowledge me as I entered the room. Cautiously walking over I sat next to him. Feeling the shift in the mattress as I sat he immediately got up heading over to the desk in the room.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked with a growl.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!?!” Dean shouted.

“I didn’t want you getting hurt.” I started letting out a shaky breath. We didn’t argue like this often. And I knew that a storm was brewing.

“I thought you trusted me? I thought we were partners?” Still keeping his voice raised.

“We are.” I attempted.

“Really? Then why did I wake up with a killer headache, flat tyres and you missing only to see one of your guns next to me and your phone smashed to bits.”

“I had too! I...I...I...I didn’t want Actaeon using either one of us as bait for each other, he relied on emotions but I didn’t want you seeing what I was doing, I didn’t want you to see me stoop so low. Yes I made a mistake doing it alone and I released it far too late. At one point I thought I was going to die. But the reason why Nia was killed in the first place was because of me! I wanted to try and right a wrong. You of anybody should understand that. I could have made a demon deal, I could have tried magic to bring her back but I’m not you or Sam...I’m not that lucky. But what about the times when you left Sam to do your crusading. The times you left both of us even though we agreed to do it together….”

“That was different Nik and you know it!” Dean interrupted.

“How is it? How was it different?” I pleaded.

Dean just looked at me dead in the eyes. I could tell he wanted to object to what I just said but he couldn’t, from looking at him I saw how tired his eyes were, that he hadn’t had a shave in days, the stubble appearing on his jawline and features.

“What I did was no different to what you would have done, we’re so alike and at times it's scary but it’s what makes us work! But now that this has happened and that my past is out there coming to get me I need to be honest with you and your brother and I’m going to tell you it all, yes I’m frightened by this and I’m scared at the fact you both might push me away but I also know either of you won’t do that because we’re a family. But I want us to be good before I do that. I am so sorry that I left you in the middle of nowhere, I’m sorry that you had to resort to asking Rowena for help.”

“You saw me when I was a demon Nik, you saw what I was. Hell I tried to kill you and Sam that day in this place. And yet you still loved me. You still cared. Whatever your past is it can’t be any worse than that.” Dean said softly, tears welling up in his eyes.

“At times I think that it is.” I said softly getting up from the bed moving to Dean’s side.

“Look what he did to you.” His fingers ghosting over the bandages.

“Head to the library I’ll meet you there, I just need to get something first.” I told him planting a kiss to his stubbly cheek and made a move to the door. But I was stopped in my tracks.

Dean grabbed a hold of my wrist and pulled me to him, I let out an excited breath before I was then devoured with kiss after kiss. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged on a few of the strands, Dean span round and lifted me onto his hip moving backwards to pin me against the wall, his lips moved to the exposed parts of skin on my neck planting small kisses up and down my neck and left side of my collarbone. Using his much larger hands he brought my arms just above my head and held onto them, the action hurt but in a good way and Dean knew it. I was feeling on top of the world right now thanks to the mix of dopamine, oxytocin and painkillers.

“Sam can wait…” Dean breathed.

#fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester spn #demons #dean x reader #spn fanfic series #spn fanfiction #spnfamily #supernatural fandom #fanfics #fanfic #road to revenge #rowena #crowley #fergus #moose and squirrel

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msjr0119 · 5 years

Text

Cordonian Wags

Part 2a- Training

In a world full of Professional footballers and their demanding wives- can their football team nicknamed the ‘Cordonian Apples’ succeed? An American female physiotherapist joins the club. Will this cause issues with the footballers wives?

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*

READ THIS PART BEFORE PART 2B 😊👍🏼

Tags: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater

******

Madeleine stumbled out the bathroom, after doing her usual party trick. Feeling high, she felt good in herself. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help herself- she was addicted.

“Enjoying powdering your nose Mrs Rhys?” Olivia narrowed her eyes at the mess of a woman stood in front of her

“Enjoying stalking my every move Mrs Rhys? Sad little life you lead...”

“We all know what you’re like Maddy! I’m not sad. If only Leo loved you... I kind of feel sorry for you- NOT!”

“Maybe you should try ‘powdering your nose’ one day- it might prevent that resting bitch expression you seem to wear constantly. You’re just jealous Liv- jealous that you can’t get dick like I can, jealous that you aren’t married to the captain...Poor little Livvy. Where is your husband anyway?”

Olivia gave Madeleine dagger eyes, not wanting to allow her have the last word in this spat- but the woman was talking sense. She hadn’t seen Liam for while, or Leo or Drake for that matter.

*****

Riley ran into the ballroom, the room was spinning- feeling like she was suffocating she had to remove herself from the scenario. Feeling paranoid that everyone was staring, she tried to conceal her feelings as she needed to sneak out. Sending a quick text to Constantine and Bertrand- she couldn’t bear facing everyone.

‘Thank you for the invite- it’s been a lovely night. I’ll see you at training tomorrow.. Ri x’

Lovely what the fuck why would you write that- it’s been eventful to say the least.

As she was texting, she wasn’t paying attention as to where she was walking.

“Oh. I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz. Please forgive me ladies.”

Before Olivia or Madeleine could respond- Riley swiftly exited the room, not looking back. They then both turned their heads and saw Liam come from near the veranda straightening his tie, breathing heavy. Shortly after, Leo followed from the same direction pulling his zip up- with a smirk as if he won the jackpot. Five minutes after Drake returned into the room providing a melancholy gaze, sorrow in his eyes.

The two wives looked at each other- both knowing something odd was going on. Neither had the opportunity to speak to Riley tonight- but after witnessing her attitude and the men’s reactions shortly after- they both agreed on something for the first time in their life’s.

“Ladies night- later this week!” They both said in unison. ‘Ladies night’ was a night that the Wags would organise- a night together without the men to receive gossip or interrogate each other about something.

*****

The night had ended, everyone headed outside to where a line of taxis were waiting provided for by the club. Going their separate ways, they each returned to their homes.

Olivia and Liam arrived home, he had been unusually quiet. Entering their bedroom, Olivia seductively made a move on her husband- which he declined. Olivia eyed her husband with confusion- no matter how drunk he was they would still have special time together.

“Not tonight Liv, I’m tired. And I’ve got training tomorrow. Love you.”

Olivia didn’t respond. Her mind was working overtime- paranoid that her brother in laws bad influence was rubbing on to Liam. She sighed, as she got into bed- Liam was already sparko.

*****

Leo walked through his front door- well attempted to walk. Madeleine pushed her way passed him. Throwing her Louboutin shoes off- not caring that they cost Leo a fortune.

“I’m surprised you managed to come home for once Leo! Did she reject you? Not surprised - she would need a magnifying glass to see what’s in your pants! Goodnight darling.”

“As a matter of fact, I had the best kiss ever! Better than kissing a slapped arse like you.... goodnight wifey. Sweet dreams....”

*****

Maxwell had offered to take Drake home once Constantine had finished his announcement. However the drinks kept flowing and Drake let his hair down. Mainly standing in the corner people watching.

His head was spinning as he returned home, he thanked Maxwell for the offer- but he just wanted to jump in bed and sleep off the alcohol before training the following morning.

Opening his door, he saw Kiara in lingerie waiting for his return. Shaking his head he couldn’t forgive her for not attending so she definitely wasn’t having sex from him.

“You’re home late...” she said seductively, roaming her hands over his body.

“I’m surprised you’re even here. How was work?” He snapped back- imagining her nose to grow like Pinocchio.

“How was the party?”

“Why did you ignore my question? It was the usual- Leo drunk and trying it on with anything with a pulse! Savannah was intoxicated. Maddy spent half the night in the bathroom, when she wasn’t there she was spitting insults towards Liv... you’d have known if you had bothered to come! But no you don’t care! It’s all about you isn’t it Ki?”

“Drake please...”

“No kiara! I’m fed up of you, of this, of us.... I want you to leave!”

“It’s just the booze... come to bed baby.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight Kiara.”

*****

Riley had a quick shower when she returned to her flat, pulling her hair into a lose bun she observed the paperwork she had prepared for the men.

Setting an alarm on her phone, she was about to place it on the bedside table before it began to buzz.

I know you probably don’t want to hear from me- I just had to get your number from Bertrand. I can still smell you on me- I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, I’m sorry that it was impromptu- it felt right. I hope it doesn’t ruin our friendship. 😞

You need to stop thinking about it. Everyone was drunk. It was a drunk stupid moment. I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen. We will never have a friendship- for the next nine months all we have is a professional relationship. Goodnight!👋🏼

So it meant nothing to you then? Nothing at all?🤔

It meant nothing. Please don’t text me back. See you at training.⚽️

Lie to me. Lie to yourself. But there was a spark there. We need to talk about it. See you tomorrow 😘

Riley ignored the last text, she felt like she had to block the number but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

*****

Riley met Bertrand on the pitch the following day, her head was still spinning- she was hoping that she wasn’t the only one with a lingering hangover.

“What is that monstrosity that you are drinking?” Bertrand frowned at her and spoke to her with disgust in his tone of voice.

“Hangover cure, Mr Beaumont... kale, celery, apple, avocado, ginger and lemon. It surprisingly works a treat- once it kicks in.”

“With all due respect Riley, it looks like my wife’s sick this morning.”

“She was that bad huh?” At least I wasn’t the only one, she thought.

“Yes. She’s what you would call a lightweight. Did he text you by the way? He said you left your bank card. I wouldn’t usually give people’s numbers out.....”

Riley showed a perplexed expression, then realised that was the excuse to gain her number. Opening her mouth ready to explain that it was a misunderstanding she was interrupted by the man she kissed.

“Yes, I did text her... Here’s your card, Riley.”

Riley shook her head, what a shit excuse to get my number...

“Just pretend and give me it back after training” he whispered.

“Won’t your significant other half need your credit card to go on a shopping spree?” She whispered back before using her usual tone of voice.

“Thank you. Whilst you’re here- fill this form out for me please.”

Bertrand walked away to prepare the training equipment, and also organised the water bottles to be prepared for the men. Riley was going to help him but was pulled back. He grabbed her wrist forcing her to look at him.

“You can’t avoid me. We need to talk.”

“As I said to you, there’s nothing to talk about. You need to go inside and get ready for training.”

He removed his top, smirking at her as he discarded it on the floor.

“It’s a sunny day.. might as well get a head start before the lads arrive...”

Riley couldn’t help but admire his muscled and ripped body before shaking her head and making her way towards the dressing room. He’s taken, I’m married- you are here work Riley Brooks.

******

Once the men had all arrived for training, the atmosphere in the dressing room was quiet and slightly morbid due to everyone suffering with their hangovers. Bertrand allowed Riley in the room once all the men were dressed, she gave them each a medical form and pen.

After reviewing the forms, the men were generally all fit and well. Luckily for her there were no major injuries that had occurred last season.

“Gentlemen, i don’t know how your old physio worked with you, but I’d like you to follow two procedures known as PRICE and HARM if an injury occurs. Please read through these leaflets. Please play nice. Wear the correct footwear, always warm up and warm down properly. If you are in any pain during training or a match please don’t continue playing, please come to one of us for advise. Rest is an important factor as well as a balanced diet. Keep hydrated at all times! Mr Beaumont, I’ll let you continue... Please don’t make too much work for me!” She laughed, and the men chuckled back.

“You heard the lady, gentleman. We need to kick start the season off with 3 points. No prancing about like women. Let’s go and all give it your best.”

******

The men completed training for the day, Riley felt that they weren’t concentrating as they should be. Every so often, Leo, Liam and Drake would come upto her for a drink of water. Each one of them attempted to talk to her- she felt ignorant but they didn’t have time for ‘chit chat’. They had their first match in a few days.

Once the training had ended, Leo made his way over to Riley and Bertrand who were filling out paper work- he could win an Oscar for the way he was acting with his fake limp.

“Riley, my leg hurts. Could you massage it for me?” Providing her with a pet lip and a wink, Riley just raised her eyebrows.

“You are fine. And for the record- you need to trust your team mates and allow them to help you. You are a team- it’s not the Leo Rhys show. You are going to gain an injury by not allowing them to score too!”

“Would that be such a bad thing gaining an injury? I’d have your hands all over me.”

“You’re gross you know that? And yes it would be a bad thing for your wife if you can’t play ever again.”

“Fuck her....”

“Fuck who?” Liam asked, walking into the middle of a conversation.

“My beautiful wife- your sister in law.” He shuddered as he said this- He detested her, he wanted a divorce but his father advised him not to. Drake joined the two brothers as they insulted their wives, before providing his own two-penneth.

“Madeleine is beautiful, maybe? But she’s a devil in disguise. Like all the women here.”

“I’ll leave you three to criticise us women alone. I need to go, Leo remember what I said- you’re all a team. See ya.”

“Is she okay? What did you do to her Leo?” Liam concerned with his brothers past interactions with women- they either fell at his knees or ran away. Exactly what Riley had just done. Liam didn’t understand why but he was constantly thinking about the newbie- most likely had similar thoughts to his brother. But he respected Olivia - even though these thoughts lingered throughout his mind, he loved his wife. Maybe Riley was just that lust feeling.

“I did nothing- I asked for a massage, she refused. I will get her one of these days, I’ll make her mine just you two watch!”

Leo left the men, with an overconfident stroll. His thought remained on Riley. Constantly thinking of how to claim her as his. He was a player - no pun intended, but he often thought if he found the right person his attitude may change and he could eventually settle down.

“So Drake, Just you and I... Are you going to Max’s later? If so, will Kiara be attending?”

“No, I’m going to give it a miss. And no she’s.....”

“Working?” They both said in unison- Liam laughed, Drake meanwhile wanted to kill him for making his love life look like a laughing stock.

“It’ll be a good night, I wonder what Riley will think of a Beaumont bash. She’s either going to love them or hate them. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Drake nodded. He didn’t actually know what Kiara had planned for the night as he slept on the couch- his sleeping beauty was still asleep when he left for training. Just having Riley’s name mentioned, made him think about her. And quite possibly change his mind about attending the younger Beaumont’s party.

*****

Some of the friends arrived at Maxwell’s house, he had prepared a music Masterlist, placed far too much glitter around everywhere and in everything- please don’t choke on the glitter.

Max, Hana, Bertrand, Savannah, Leo, Liam and Drake all were socialising. Drake offered to go and put his nephew to bed. He was a fantastic uncle and loved his nephew to the moon and back- unconditional love. Bartie fell asleep instantly in his uncles arms- looking down at the young boy he wished he had what Savannah and Bertrand had- a loving family.

“So where are all the wives then?” Maxwell questioned, aiming the question towards Leo Liam and Drake as he re-entered the room.

“Well for a start I’m not married, Maxwell. And I never will be.”

“To answer your question Max, Olivia is out with her aunt.”

“And maddy... she could be dead in a ditch for all I care.”

Before Maxwell could answer, Bertrand’s phone rung.

“Hi Riley. What’s up?”

“Erm, could you put Maxwell on the phone please?”

Bertrand gave Max the phone, Max in his drunk mind put her on loud speaker - unknowingly to her.

“Hi gorgeous. What’s up? What time are you coming? Hana and Savannah can’t wait to see you.”

“I’m really sorry I’m not coming....”

Riley hung up, Maxwell grabbed Hana and rung a taxi- asking Bertrand for her address they both got in the taxi hoping to persuade her to reconsider. The others looked bewildered as the two of them ran out of the house. Leo, Liam and Drake all deep down were heartbroken that she wasn’t coming but at the same were concerned after hearing her cry.

******

The two friends banged on her door, hoping she would answer. They didn’t like to see anyone upset- and as a team they were supposed to look after each other.

Riley got out of bed, leaving the half a bar of chocolate on the side- whenever she was upset she turned to chocolate, she had a sweet tooth.

“Max? Hana?”

“What’s up? You’ve been crying.” Maxwell stating the obvious, pulled her into a tight hug. Wiping the mascara and tears away from her face she now didn’t mimic a panda.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not in the mood to party... Come in for a quick drink? I don’t want to keep you from everyone...”

Maxwell and Hana followed her inside, noticing Bridget Jones on the tv, a large glass of wine, and a shit ton of chocolate wrappers and Riley’s wedding rings on the table.

“So.... I had a phone call today after training. My husband is refusing to sign the divorce papers...”

“Even more of a reason to drink with friends then... pack a bag you can stay at mine for a few nights...”

Riley sat on her leather couch, head in her hands. Usually she was the strong independent woman even after all the shit her husband put her through.

“What happened with your marriage Riley? You don’t have to tell us but we can help.” Hana asked softly, providing a comforting arm.

“Xavier- my estranged husband is the Spanish version of Leo... humiliated me, slept around, flirted with women in front of me. He became injured- and never played for the premier league again. After that he became paranoid that I was around his colleagues too much. He abused me. Emotionally and physically. And now the son of a bitch won’t divorce me. I came here to start a fresh. I didn’t want another relationship, he has put me off for life...but....”

“But what?” Maxwell’s eyebrows perked up, awaiting for some gossip.

“At the party, someone kissed me. I was so angry at myself for losing the will power. I feel guilty. Your brother gave him my number- I want to block him. But I can’t. I don’t think I can do this or stay here.”

“Get your things! You’re coming back to mine. You are staying with us. It’ll be fun - sleepovers, eating more chocolate than you have done tonight, I have wine lots of wine. You are not leaving. You don’t have to tell us who you kissed... that is your business. Between you two.”

#theroyalromance #choices trr #riley brooks #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #liam rhys #leo rhys #hanalee #bertrand beaumont #savannah walker #au the royal romance

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maple-writes · 5 years

Text

Okay so finally this chapter is done. If you’ve been waiting for this, thank you for your patience!

###

I must have fallen asleep because suddenly the movie was over, and white on black credits rolled across the living room tv. Yawning, I reached for the remote that had evidently fallen off the couch sometime between probably just resting my eyes and now. Oh well. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen this one a million times already.

With another yawn, I stood, listening for whatever Striker might have been up to, but nothing. The house was silent besides the constant tick of the hall clock. I shuffled towards the kitchen, glancing at the front door on my way. Cirrus’ shoes were gone. He must still be at work. Last night he’d told me when he’d be done, but as much as I tried, I couldn’t really remember. I’d been half asleep when he told me anyway.

I stepped into the kitchen and paused. Sitting on a clear patch of counter space, lay a folded piece of paper. A note. Curiosity prickled at my fingers as I picked it up and started to read.

Asher,

I stopped by earlier to check on you, but you seemed to be fast asleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I brought some soup for you and your brother—it’s in the fridge.

I haven’t cooked in decades, but Charlotte tells me it’s not horrible. :)

Hope you’re both feeling a little better,

-Ginger

(P.S: Striker lent me a key to your front door)

I smiled. She’d been by yesterday too, and the day before that, just to make sure we were doing alright. Part of me wondered if she even had a kitchen where she lived though, it wasn’t like she needed one really. Did she cook at Charlotte’s house? I shrugged to myself and shook the thought from my head. It didn’t really matter, did it?

I leaned against the side of the counter and glanced at the microwave clock. Four in the afternoon. Slow worry started to seep into my blood. Had Striker been up yet? Everything in the kitchen, besides Ginger’s note, seemed to be exactly like I’d left it this morning. No moved items, no cups or things taken out of the sink… A deep sigh slipped from my lungs and my shoulders slouched. Yesterday he hadn’t gotten out of bed until three, and only when a few of his work friends stopped over and he pretended to be doing alright.

Maybe I should bring him some water. The stairs creaked under my steps as I made my way up towards his bedroom, cup in hand. I paused in front of his room. His door was closed, quiet on the other side.

“Striker? You awake?”

There was a pause, so long that for a moment I thought maybe he really was asleep. Then came his low reply. “Yeah.”

I opened the door and poked my head inside. The lights were off, save the weak little lamp on his cluttered bedside table. He didn’t even raise his head when I stepped in, curled under a heap of scattered blankets. Even from the doorway, a heaviness seeped from the air through my skin. It didn’t look like he’d been out of bed at all today. I sighed. If he hadn’t been up, he probably hadn’t changed the dressings on his wounds yet either. He of all people should know better.

“Have you been up yet?” I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

Instead of replying, Striker only groaned and curled in on himself, half burying his head. My shoulders fell. This wasn’t like him.

“Hey,” I spoke softly. “Can I turn on the light?”

He mumbled something that sounded like a yes, but still cringed just a little when I flicked the switch. I set the glass of water on the table beside him. For a moment he raised his head to glance at it, but quickly fell back against the pillow with a deep sigh.

“Ash,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”

I hopped onto the end of the bed, legs dangling over the edge. “About four pm.”

He muttered something to himself that I couldn’t hear through his hands as he ran them over his face, into his hair. Heaviness settled in the hollow of my chest, seeping in from the air around me, pooling in my lungs like a poison mist. What was I supposed to say? I swallowed, slowly casting my eyes to the carpet. Was there anything I could? Would it matter?

Finally, I took a breath and stole a glance. “I uh… Ginger brought some soup.” Every word came out awkward, like I couldn’t figure out how to make the sounds right. “I think you should get up and have some.”

He turned his head to face me, dead-eyed and still. His chest rose in a deep sigh before he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hand. Just barely uncovered by his palm, the corner of his mouth wrenched, and his breath came hissed through clenched teeth.

I tore my eyes away, massaging at the back of my neck. “Hey…” I lowered my voice, soft in the quiet between us. “I’m sorry you had to get dragged into all this.” My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, slow, stiff. “There was nothing you could do.”

“No,” Striker shook his head. “If I’d… If I could have just…” He took a deep, jagged breath. “I should have tried harder. I shouldn’t have let him use me like that.”

“Striker,” I dropped my arm to my lap. “Ginger’s been at this for decades and if she had trouble with Vena, why would you do any better.” I swallowed, cringing at how harsh that might have seeemed. It hadn’t sounded anything like that in my head. “You held on as long as you could.” Cautiously, I glanced his way, but he still wasn’t looking. “I saw you trying to stop him in the kitchen.”

He half opened his eyes, watching me through half-closed fingers. Then he shook his head again. “Doesn’t matter. I failed, and because of that I—” His breath hitched, and he shut his eyes again, tight.

“It wasn’t you though,” I leaned towards him, bracing myself on an arm that sunk into the blankets and mattress beneath. Anger flared in my chest, hot enough to all but burn off the thick heaviness it replaced. “Because you know what?”

When I spat my words, Striker looked up, surprised.

I leaned further, until I was only a foot from his eyes, a snarl twisting the muscles of my face. “Because Vena’s nothing but a fucking coward.” My words hissed, forced through my tightening jaw. “He’s nothing. Nothing.”

A growl rose in my throat and I planted my hands on either side of Striker’s shoulders. He stiffened and stared up at me, eyes wide and shifting as I leaned further, looming over him as my blood pounded loud and hot in my ears. The tips of my fingers curled, digging claw-like into the bed.

“If he weren’t so much of a fucking coward he wouldn’t have to have used you to get to me. He wanted to hurt me, to wear me down, but you know what, Striker?” The words came faster than my heartbeat, snarling through my throat. “One way or another, I’m going to kill him. I’m going to destroy him. I’m going to rip his worthless soul from his corrupted body and I’m going to crush it between my teeth before he can do a fucking thing about it, you hear me?”

A grin spread across my face, full of teeth and spite. “And if he dares come for you again I promise I’ll make it hurt. He’s going to suffer at my hands, I promise you. I promise you. I promise—”

“Asher,” Striker inched out from under me, eyes locked on my face. “What are you doing?”

Me? I blinked, watching Striker scoot out from under me, propping himself up on his elbows. He swallowed, tense energy buzzing off him in waves. I could almost feel his heartbeat in the air between us. For a moment all I did was stare, but then I drew back, sitting up and letting my hands fall into my lap. I pushed off from the bed, feeling Striker’s eyes locked on me.

I turned to face him again and tucked my hands into my pockets. “I’m going to start heating the soup.” I turned towards the door. “Get dressed and come down for dinner. I think you’ll feel a little better if you do.”

By the time the soup was hot and Striker’s footsteps came down from his room, the sun had already slipped just behind the tallest buildings outside the kitchen window. His hair was disheveled and he stood slouched and shifty, but at least it looked like he’d changed his shirt. He didn’t say anything as I ladled the warm soup into a bowl and slid it across the island to him, except to mumble a half audible thanks under his breath.

I turned around back to the stove and turned off the heat. With this much left over it looked like there’d be enough for lunch or something tomorrow too. Good. I stole a glance back at Striker, head down and seeming to spend more time stirring than eating. It didn’t look likely he’d be up to cook anything for himself tomorrow either. At least he’d have something to heat up if I wasn’t around.

“So,” I faced him again, leaning against the counter. “How are you feeling?”

Striker raised his head, eyes dead and face blank. Then he sighed and looked back down. “Healing well enough.”

He must have known that wasn’t what I meant. My shoulders fell as a I slowly rounded the table to sit next to him. The stool squeaked against the floor, creaking as I scooted closer to the table. Then, again, it was silent.

I swallowed, eyes resting on the counter in front of me. Should I have known what to do? What would he have done if it were me? Technically, this could all be my fault anyway. I inched the back of my hand toward the bare skin of Striker’s forearm. If he wouldn’t tell me how he was feeling, maybe I could—

“Don’t.”

I drew my hand back just in time to see the glare Striker shot through narrowed eyes. It only lasted a moment though, quickly softening back into exhausted glaze. Then his eyebrows furrowed just enough for me to notice.

“Have you lost weight?” Striker leaned back a little from the counter, tiredness replaced with worry. “You look kind of skinny, are you alright?”

Me? I scrunched my face, confused. “I don’t know, I… I haven’t noticed.” I rubbed at the back of my neck. As far as I knew nothing changed, but I hadn’t been paying attention either.

Striker sighed and went back to leaning on the table. “I wonder if, if maybe you should take a little break from your apprenticeship.” He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure how he wanted to continue. “I don’t know… I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

My shoulders fell, and I looked away. Was he right? Maybe it would be safer, but… Would leaving the college be the best idea, or would it be best to stay in close contact with Ginger? She hadn’t said anything to me about what happened to Wendy, so she couldn’t be too concerned for me, right? Right? If something happened, wouldn’t it be best to be close to Ginger for when it did anyway? At the same time though, I didn’t want Striker worried.

“I mean, I know it sounds hypocritical for me to say that,” his voice brought me back from my thoughts. “When I was the one who pushed you towards it in the first place.”

I shook my head. “I’m glad you did.” Without what I’d learned from Ginger, would I have been able to do everything I’d done? From exorcising spirits to standing up to Vena, would I have known what to do on my own? Maybe, but it probably wouldn’t have gone as well as it did. “And I guess, Ginger and I’ve spoke at the hospital and she told me to take as long as I needed before coming back. I’m sure I could spare a few more days at least.”

“That’s good.”

Striker sighed again, deep and tired. He slowly started to eat the soup that was probably halfway cold by now. I could only hope that my weak agreement to time off had helped ease his worry at least a little bit, but it probably didn’t do very much at all. Even from here, without touching him, his worry, guilt and exhaustion fell heavy and hollow right in the center of my chest.

Then again, I probably wasn’t the only person he was worrying about right now. Neither of us had heard from Kyra. Yesterday I’d sent her a text asking how she was feeling, but still nothing.

I shook out my head. If she wanted to talk to us again, she would, when she was ready. For now though…. I stood, resting both hands flat on the cold countertop, earning me a glance from Striker.

“Well,” I said. “I think we should do something nice. I’m going to go dig out the games.”

If Striker wanted to protest, it was too bad because I left the kitchen before he could say anything to stop me. We hadn’t taken them out in ages, keeping them stuffed away under the stairs with all the other seldom used things and seasonal decorations. But Striker always seemed to like them, so why not.

But turning down the hallway, movement in the back-patio window caught my eye. I froze, holding my breath as I struggled to make out what was out there in the near darkness of the blue post-sunset light. My heart pounded loud in my ears and fast through my limbs until my eyes adjusted to the change in light and I recognized the figure standing along in the back.

What was she doing here?

I hurried to the sliding back door and slipped out into the chill of the dusk where Ember stood still and silent. Her head swiveled towards me as I slid the door closed and picked my way over aging stonework. The energy that usually flowed off her in waves instead came sporadic, like spray from a waterfall’s base.

Her old t-shirt was painted in bloodied patches, scratches and abrasions crawled across her arms, and she kept her left eye shut. One of her branching horns was half gone, snapped off only a hand length above her skull.

“Vena told me what he did.”

A growl rose deep in her chest as she turned to face me, hands clenched to fists at her sides. The erratic splashes coming from deep inside her shifted, hot like sparks from a crackling fire that stung at the soft skin of my cheeks. But I couldn’t move, frozen to the spot at the sight of what had happened.

She bared carnivore’s teeth. “That bastard.” She spat the words like a cobra spitting venom, eyes burning hot and red in the low light. “And to think…”

Her closed fist slammed against the wall and I jumped, staggering backwards on the uneven ground.

“To think I was starting to trust him.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I could have been so stupid.”

“Ember,” I raised my hands towards her, palms open and empty. “What, what happened?” I swallowed, looking her up and down as my heart raced in my ears. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.” She rose a bloodied hand to her face, gingerly running her fingers over the roughed-up skin. “I should have known I wasn’t strong enough to face him on my own, but I couldn’t…” She snarled, teeth clenched and lips curled. “How dare he do what he did Asher? How dare he do what he did and then expect me not to care? Expect me not to try and kill him for what he did.”

Ember took a sharp breath to continue, but quickly shook her head, crossing her arms and staring down at the brickwork. With her pause, the heat cooled, softening back to droplets instead of sparks. I cleared my throat and forced myself to breathe, taking the cool night air as deep into my lungs as it would go.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ember said. “Are you alright?” She lowered her head. “Is—”

The sound of the door sliding open made her freeze, eyes locked on Striker as he stepped outside. He met her eyes and for what felt like hours, all either of them did was stare, as if they didn’t believe what they were seeing. I had to brace myself against how quickly the energy flowing from Ember retracted, buzzing sharp and alert it the otherwise still air. My heart sped up in my chest, hammering against the bones of my ribs no doubt the same as hers.

Slowly Striker stepped out from the doorway, inching out onto the patio without looking away from Ember, as if he was worried she would vanish as soon as he did. He stepped toward her, and Ember stiffened, fear flashing behind her one open eye.

“Ember?” Striker voice was thin, like there was only a thread barrier between his voice and his emotions.

She nodded, hunching her shoulders and refusing to fully face him as he gingerly approached. But she didn’t run, standing locked in place until he stood right in front of her. For a long time, neither of them said anything else, leaving me watching, wringing my hands together and hoping for the best.

Then Ember stole a glance towards him. “I… I—Striker…” She stammered, half squirming, half cowering with her head down and shoulders bunched up by her neck. “I’m—”

Striker cut her off, throwing his arms around her shoulders and holding her in a close embrace. She froze, eyes wide and surprised, before cautiously, slowly, leaning into him. Striker said something, but I couldn’t hear it, too muffled in Ember’s shirt.

When Striker finally let her go, she still didn’t seem to believe what was happening, staring and stammering over the beginning of a sentence she couldn’t seem to find the words to speak.

Striker’s gaze snapped to the blood on her clothes as if seeing it for the first time. “Ember...” He took one of her arms, gently turning it over to see the scratches. “What happened?” He shook his head. “Come inside and let me look at that.”

She didn’t protest, letting him guide her towards the house, glancing back at me as they slipped inside. I quickly followed, sliding the door closed behind me with a soft click. Of all the reasons Ember would come back, I never thought this would be how it went. I’d always thought it would be some quiet night of an uneventful week, and she’d show up out of the blue. Hopefully she would stay, trapped by Striker’s lack of resentment she’d convinced herself to expect. But given how this week had gone, I didn’t want to get my hopes up just yet.

She’d be gone by morning.

#the city of eventide #chapter 21 #my writing #amwriting #writeblr #writblr #fiction #fantasy #this one took me how long?#like a month?#feels like a very long time #writing has just been kinda hard lately I think #please clap #lol

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