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queerprayers · 3 years

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If I’m really made in god’s image, why would he make me so dumb, so disabled, why would he make me like this? Do you think maybe the god’s image thing isn’t true? I look at the terrible people of the world, why would god have made this?

Hello beloved,

I'm so sorry it's taken me a bit to reply to this—this ask really hit me. I've been here (or at least somewhere close—obviously I don't know exactly what you're feeling). "Why would he make me like this?" was something I used to ask myself over and over, either about my queerness or my disabilities.

To be honest? I don't have an answer. Not a clear/easy one, anyway. I could say that we have unique gifts, or that suffering teaches us something, or something else that's technically true but that you've probably heard before and might end up being pitying or cheesy.

Disability is a fact of life. (Or at least, different kinds of functioning are; "disability" is a social label we created.) Your experiences may be painful or isolating, but God is with you. I don't know if you're seeking that affirmation or if you'll shrug it off, but it's true.

I don't know why God made us the way They did. The only thing I do know is that They did. And yes, I do firmly believe that you and I were made in God's image. All the ways in which we're different or unique or confusing? They're all from God. I don't think our brains are even capable of understanding why? And I'm not sure "why" is the right question to be asking. How about, "how?"

I'd also encourage you (and all of us) to think about why we need a reason for everything. Maybe we don't need a reason or a purpose for this pain. Maybe we're hurting and beloved by God and in need of saving and already whole.

"Christ, God's image, models God's embrace of disability on the cross . . . through a resurrected but wounded body. All humanity shares in such woundedness and vulnerability in a variety of forms—physical, mental, moral, and spiritual—without losing the dignity of being created in the image of God." (Dignity and Destiny: Humanity in the Image of God by John Kilner)

"Our bodies participate in the imago Dei, not in spite of our impairments and contingencies, but through them." (The Disabled God: Toward a Liberatory Theology of Disability by Nancy L. Eiesland)

From the ELCA's message on disabilities:

"Human beings are part of a world in which a variety of abilities and skills, impairments and disabilities are a common feature of life. Vulnerability to and the risk of disability are a natural part of the human condition for all people. While most people may assume that they never will become impaired and disabled themselves, many individuals, in fact, will be impaired or disabled at some point in their lives. For some, these impairments and disabilities will be temporary or moderate-term conditions, perhaps occurring near the end of life; for others, these will be either long-term or lifelong.

Human life emerges from within the natural world and is limited and conditioned by it. Physical, sensory, intellectual, mental and developmental disabilities arise within the natural and social worlds from factors that are genetic, chemical, behavioral, social and accidental. A number of disabilities appear to result from various combinations of these factors.

Whatever the causes, a disability or impairment requires a person to exercise [their] abilities and skills in ways affected by that reality. . . .

Medical cures and assistance are blessings, but cures are rare and, sometimes, not desired. Like all aspects of health, living with a physical, intellectual or developmental disability is a fact of life, calling for the resourceful and determined exercise of one’s other abilities and freedom for relationship."

"The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ . . . demonstrate that all aspects of life, including disabilities and impairment, are encompassed in God’s loving care. In being born of Mary and living among us, Jesus took on all the risks and vulnerabilities of being human, including those of suffering hate, rejection, cruelty, injustice, disability and death. Jesus did not do so for the purpose of suffering these things for their own sake. Rather, his suffering was a necessary consequence of his walking the way of the cross (Luke 24:27) so that all might be reconciled to God (2 Corinthians 5:19)."

Christianity has done so much harm to disabled people: misrepresenting scripture about healing, blaming people or their sin for their health issues, not making worship spaces or theology accessible, and so much more. It's no wonder that we have so much trouble finding peace in our identities. Overwhelmingly, it seems, the many of the issues disabled people face are not from their disability, but how society treats their disability. (Check out the social model.) I believe in justice and liberation under God, including for the disabled.

You're probably carrying internalized ableism, from society and perhaps also the church. I'm with you there.

Additional Resources/Further Reading:

Our Bible App has several disability devotionals

"A Biblical View of Disability," Ros Bayes, bethinking, 2015.

Disabling Lent: An Anti-Ableist Lenten Devotional, Unbound.

"Moving Toward a Better Theology of Disability," Jil Vandezande Western Theological Seminary, 23 Nov 2015

"God on Wheels: Disability and Jewish Feminist Theology," Julia Watts Belser, Tikkun Magazine, 2014.

"This week my Episcopal priest said disabled persons are disabled because of our sin . . .", Twitter thread by Jonathan "Jack" Bates (@/jackmb), 20 Mar 2021

Heart and Soul: "Pick up your stretcher and walk!," BBC Sounds, 26 Apr 2019

"Stop trying to 'heal' me," Damon Rose, BBC News, 28 Apr 2019

"Is God disabled?" Ian Pauk, Psephizo, 27 May 2019

"The Full Affirmation of Disability Justice," Shannon Dingle, Sojourners, 20 Jun 2019

"Can the Church View Disabled Bodies as Jesus' Body?" Amy Kenny, Sojourners, 30 Apr 2020

"Liberation theology of disability and the option for the poor," Scot Danforth, Disability Studies Quarterly, Summer 2005.

The Disability & Faith Forum

"Out of the Darkness: Examining the Rhetoric of Blindness in the Gospel of John," Jennifer L. Koosed, Disability Studies Quarterly, Winter 2005

"Theological Accessibility: The Contribution of Disability," Deborah Creamer, Disability Studies Quarterly, Fall 2006

Copious Hosting: A Theology of Access for People with Disabilities by Jennie Weiss Block

A Healing Homiletic: Preaching and Disability by Kathy Black

Amazing Gifts: Stories of Faith, Disability, and Inclusion by Mark I. Pinksy

Wondrously Wounded: Theology, Disability, and the Body of Christ by Brian Brock

The Bible, Disability, and the Church: A New Vision of the People of God by Amos Yong

The Bible and Disability: A Commentary by Sarah J. Melcher

Crippled Grace: Disability, Virtue Ethics, and the Good Life by Shane Clifton

I think I got a bit off-topic. I don't have enough time to edit this. You're just receiving a lot of my thoughts. Hopefully something will be meaningful. Over and over, I prove to y'all that I don't have answers, but I do have a reading list.

I leave you with a prayer by Mary Batchelor:

God, we lift up to you all who are disabled - in hearing, in sight, in limb or in mind. Save them from bitterness and frustration, and give them joy in the midst of their limitations. May they find peace and fulfillment in knowing you and discovering your will for their lives. We pray for special grace for those who care for them. Give them your love and kindness and understanding of the real needs of those they look after. For Jesus' sake, amen.

<3 Johanna

#asks #disability #anonymous #resources

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huntingorbits · 2 years

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Greetings!

I don't know how many of you are out there reading this, if there's only one of you, or maybe even none. Maybe this post floated across your dash or popped up while you were looking at a specific tag. Who knows? In any case, I'd love to take some time to introduce myself to you and the community properly.

I want to preface this introductory post with the fact that Tumblr has changed a lot since my last foray into the absolute chaos of this site years ago, so bear with me while I re-learn a number of things on the technical side.

That aside, let me tell you a little bit about myself.

Maybe someday I'll share my given name, but today is not that day. In the meantime, you can call me Archer Sims.

This blog exists solely for use with my journey into magick and any other occult topics I might look into in the future.

If that's not for you, then just move along and be on your merry way. I won't be offended if you decide our paths shouldn't cross again.

Here's my story:

(Apparently it's long. Sorry not sorry.)

I started my journey into practicing magick a couple of decades ago as a kid, but nothing really stuck. At that time, all that really existed as resources for us young misfits back in the day was Silver RavenWolf's books and the like, and they just didn't sit right with me. I think it's because they didn't set realistic expectations or properly explain witchcraft to my skeptical mind. I wanted to believe, but the exercises and information just didn't work for me the way I thought they should, and the rules seemed so strict that I didn't walk away with even a vague understanding of what witchcraft actually is.

Still, even though I was raised Lutheran, I considered myself largely Agnostic for an extremely long portion of my life. College opened my mind to a number of other religions and practices, and immediately I was hooked. Their belief systems and the way culture and spirituality were often intertwined was absolutely fascinating. Not only that, but a lot of the ideas were new (to me at least) and made a lot more sense to me than what I was raised on. (Side note, everyone should have a copy of this book for interacting with other religions courteously, because it's phenomenal: How to Be a Perfect Stranger)

I studied most of these religions from an anthropological viewpoint, but the concepts I was introduced to blew my mind. I started digging into some of the ideas I liked most a bit more and realized that I no longer knew what I believed. Was I a Deist? Free will and scientific exploration were/are very important to me, but no, not quite. Was I more closely aligned to Buddhism? That didn't seem to fit, either. Islam? Judaism? Hindu? Was I an Athiest in denial?

I was struggling to find answers, and it was frustrating. As life got busier, I stopped looking, and I quickly found myself in a spiritual limbo that lasted years. Maybe even a decade, honestly, but the feeling was pretty nebulous and I didn't even realize it until very recently.

My sister is a practicing witch, mostly guided by the Norse traditions, and sometimes we would talk about religion and beliefs, even if I couldn't put into words what exactly I believed. I've always admired how confident she is about her practices, and how excited she gets whenever I ask questions. I still had a bad taste in my mouth from my last try at reading a witchcraft book, so even though I never thought less of witches or pagans, I didn't think either were for me.

And yet, I've always enjoyed reading tarot (mostly for myself, but I did read for friends at a LARP event once), something about runestones just feels "right" when I hold them, and it occurred to me recently that anytime I prayed in my life, rare though it was, I always addressed my pleas to "God, Goddess, [and] Gaia". It never even occurred to me that it was "abnormal" for my upbringing. This was just how I was.

Some of you may be aware of The Alleyman's Tarot that was funded through Kickstarter. This project and the Facebook group that came from it changed everything.

I'm the type to look up words, terms, phrases, etc when I don't recognize something, especially given how much language constantly evolves. So when someone in the group asked if there were any other chaos magicians excited for this deck, naturally I went to find out what it meant.

I was floored by the concept that a personal paradigm using belief as a tool and drawing from infinite sources to get results existed. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever even considered that something like that could be real. It wasn't a perfect match, of course (I'm not well versed in quantum anything or some of the other scientific fields suggested to boost it), but it was scarily close.

Cue research frenzy #1. I devoured websites, articles, webpages, and started working my way through some of the better rated books I found. I took notes and wrote my thoughts in a journal (I didn't know what a BOS was, so that was a pleasant surprise later), and started to explore some basics for sigil magick.

The one sigil I activated came back to me in a way I didn't expect, but it worked, and I was beginning to truly understand that there was more to the world than I'd been led to believe.

I admit that I neglected my studies for a while after that. I'd started a new job and making time to research and practice fell by the wayside. But to me, chaos magick wasn't inherently spiritual, and so when my mom died last year, I didn't think to turn to it for any sort of comfort. I was too depressed to even draw a daily tarot card.

Between then and this month, life kept happening and I just focused on surviving and hitting personal productivity goals. My sister is amazing though. When I was researching before, she'd offered to loan me some of her books so I could explore other witchcraft paradigms. Something this month reignited that spark (probably the fact that our Alleyman's Tarot decks should be shipping anytime now), and I made the decision to just go for it. After all, if I didn't like it, then I didn't have to use it.

She started me off with How to Become a Witch by Amber K and Azrael K. Just from the introduction, I realized that my personal avoidance of witchcraft from that childhood experience had been warped by misunderstanding and time. No one likes admitting they're wrong, but sometimes I love being wrong. It means there's something new to learn and experience, and I can gain new insight and perspective and grow as a person.

I really enjoyed the book. It laid things out in a way that completely changed my expectations for witchcraft (no special effects or gross violations of the laws of physics) and made me even more open to the truth. I was extremely relieved that in the introduction as well as a later chapter, there was a warning of red flags regarding scam artist covens/cults and a real discussion of the social risks involved if you make the choice to come out of the broom closet as a witch (things like having your kids taken from you if things go sideways).

For me, this was the introduction I really needed. It was open, honest, shared several examples to help broaden my understanding, and most importantly, it didn't feel like a fad book for preteens in the 90s who just wanted to be "cool" (I say, having been one of those kids). It felt concrete and something about it demanded that it be taken seriously - without taking itself too seriously. I had the added benefit of being able to discuss topics with my sister when I had questions, which helped me solidify a lot of concepts even more.

And that leads us to tonight...

I'm still figuring myself out - am I a chaos magician, an eclectic witch obsessed with space, or something else entirely? What feels right? What resonates? That's why I'm on this journey, and I can't wait to see where this road leads. 😀

I'm going to reread "To Ride a Silver Broomstick" by Silver RavenWolf now that I know what to expect. Before you yell at me, let me clear this up: I know she's problematic on numerous social fronts, and I know she's full of herself and believes her way is the Only Right Way. But part of learning is taking in multiple perspectives, and now I have a much more solid foundation to make those judgment calls and take what I read with a grain of salt. (Also I have beef with this book from the past and want to be able to properly explain what parts I think are terrible now that I'm a better researcher. That'll teach it to mess with me. lol)

Anyways, if you stayed with me this long, thank you. 😊 It's nice to know I'm not just shouting into the void.

If you have any resources or tips you'd like to share, I'm open to suggestions!

I'm not online all the time, but I'll check in fairly often. I don't know if I'll be posting regularly or exactly what I'll be posting, but I wanted to create my own cozy little (private) corner of the internet for learning, growth, and a base from which I can connect to all of you lovely people!

Special thanks to my sister for helping me learn without boundaries. 💖

~Archer

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naerwenia · 3 years

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No Kisses on the Mouth (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Grand Moff Tarkin/Reader

Summary: Tarkin gives you a second chance after it is found out you have been seen with known rebels. Few years later, you a working under Director Krennic at Imperial Advance Weapon Development, and one night Grand Moff Tarkin wants a personal debrief on your progress.

Tags/warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, bdsm, dom!Tarkin, sub!reader, afab!reader, spanking with a belt and hand, part 1, self-insert

A/N: Oh god, what have I done... This was inspired by a session in our SW RPG campaign, where my character had to think if she would take the opportunity to go back to be just a medic, to be forgiven for her anarchistic deeds. Also inspired by my own adventures as a pet, and the music of Spiritual Front and Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio. I was supposed to write smut, but it took over 2000 words to get to even a hint of eroticism. I split this into two, so I can post this now and get back to figuring out how to write smut. Also on Ao3

“Look around you, there is no one here, just you and me. Don’t you want to just move on, and fulfil your promise?” he said, looking down on you, making sure you knew you were beneath him, yet comfortable in the chair he had shown to you. Talent was hard to come by, and keeping passion alive in the military environment was hard, yet Tarkin and you shared something, a drive maybe, in your respective fields. And now you were there, in front of him, afraid to ask forgiveness or leniency, as he had summoned you there before any of the information the Imperial Security Bureau had gathered found their way to other ears in the Empire, or even the Imperial Star Destroyer you were stationed at. In ordinary situations, Tarkin would not have hesitated to act, but there was something, maybe an aspect of your character that suggested he might be able to wrap you in strings with ease and play politics through you at some point in the future. So he offered his hand, an open offer that may include as much or as little as he said, because the other option was being at the mercy of ISB.

“Yes, Grand Admiral,” you replied and, with some fear in your movement, you took his hand. It was a firm and surprisingly warm handshake, which reminded you to move your gaze to meet his, blushing for forgetting that again. It was embarrassing, but he seemed to not be offended by your mistake, or maybe it was refreshing to not have to reprimand a young officer with a cocky gaze and ego larger than Coruscant. You, on the other hand, just wanted to do your job, create something with your hands, something to make the world better, or even just make someone’s life better. Design jewelry, facilities, architecture, maybe get to make more accessible designs for the Empire. The only way to that was through a handshake with Tarkin and submitting to be his pawn.

-----

There weren’t many secluded spaces in Coruscant, but you had one in mind. It was not really one where you could be alone for sure, but it was a bit out of the way and up a stairway that was rarely the best way to offices on the ship, so you pushed past a few office workers to get there. It was not as quiet as your apartment, but at least no one could find you there, at least not as quickly as if you were just crying in your room. Yet, you wanted to be found, to be comforted, not right now but exactly at this moment. You were strong enough to take care of yourself, and crying over some words from the Director was just embarrassing. He was someone you looked up to, someone whose works inspired you, and his critique of your work was harsh, not like it wasn’t unearned, but it hurt, it made you feel useless, and running away was the only thing you knew at that moment.

Stopping around a corner, just a few steps away from a walkway used by the patrolling officers, you slumped to the street, but to the ground, not caring if the skirt was ruined. This was just another day at the Director’s design department for his vanity project, and this was not the first piece of clothing it had claimed, but definitely the first that was messed by you.

The air of Coruscant was brisk for once, the evening was young and getting colder, and the lights danced in your vision, bleeding into each other in the skyline. Different shades of yellow, red, and orange, and other colours of the rainbow accenting them, the skyline was different once again. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe you just felt like it, but the feeling wasn’t anything new. No matter how long you spent at a place, you failed to find your place. Like there was a barrier that prevented you from crossing over to other people’s lives, failing to live like others. So here you were, looking at a city that held as many secrets as you, viewing it like a theatre stage, something you wanted to believe to be real, yet not, so you have to remind yourself to believe the façade, that it is not just a painting, a stage, and that you are a person sitting in the shadows of Coruscant’s administrative district. Some days it felt like you were more part of the shadows than flesh, and today was one of those days.

The com beeped, someone was trying to reach you. As much as you’d like to just leave it, it might be work-related, and you didn’t want any more tears from there.

“Imperial Military Department of Advanced Weapons Research’s director’s assistant’s...'' you answered the call, but were cut off, thankfully, not having to recite your full title and workplace. There was only a minor hesitation, yet enough for Tarkin to notice, but he kept his words under too much control for someone like you to notice, but you knew. It was obvious and very much like him to notice and note small things like that so he could use them to his advantage in the future.

“We should meet,” Tarkin’s voice was matter of fact, cool but not cold, and almost demanding but not unreasonable. He knew what he wanted, you had it, and you had to meet him to answer those demands. This sudden call made you smile, a sweet, pleased smile that someone like Grand Moff would want to meet you, and you had no reason to refuse.

“Certainly, sir. Should we…” you started, yet were cut off by him. Not rudely, not even suddenly, just noting he would rather have things his way than waste his precious time with meaningless chit-chat, and that made you happy, having someone to tell you what they needed from you, so you didn’t have to disappoint them by trying to guess what they actually meant with their words.

“Your apartment, tonight. I will meet you there in an hour,” Tarkin stated clearly, and with another “Yes sir” from you, the conversation was over.

The mix of emotions was both delightfully ironic as tears dropped down your cheeks, but there was a warm feeling in the chest under a heavy weight and the warmth, with Grand Moff’s words ringing in your head, made you smile through the hurt. With a sweep of your hand, you dried your tears with your sleeve, smudging the mascara on your face and the sleeve of your jacket.

Since he had said it would take him an hour to meet you at your place, you decided to walk the way there, spending around 30 minutes navigating the streets of Coruscant. The streets offered a variety of sounds, loud and intimidating, but this was one of those days you needed sounds to remind you of where you were, and the slight exercise helped to ground you to the moment, to your body. All that was thrown away as you opened the door to find Tarkin sitting in your living room. A small squeak left your lips, but her own hand on her lips silenced any other noise she might have made, and with a long breath and sigh she tried to calm her pulse.

“I’m sorry, sir, your presence surprised me,” you said, turning away for a moment to close the door, “Would you like some Corellian whiskey, maybe tea from Felucia?”.

“Whiskey is fine. You might want one for yourself too,” he said, “There are things I want to discuss first hand with you rather than trust these… rumors”.

A surprised look over your shoulder met the Moff’s blue eyes. Certainly there wasn’t anything you had done that would merit rumours, but what others found interesting to talk about wasn’t something that ever made sense. It already felt like the Director had pitted others against you, yet found time to give you kind gestures when no one was looking. He was more than harsh with his words when others were looking, but in the end it seemed like some of your more out there ideas were incorporated to the designs. The whiskey’s smell and drip on your finger made you quickly realize you had poured more than enough in one glass and had to pour from that glass to the other. You could drink the whole glass, might even that night, but Grand Moff would frown upon it, and his disapproval would not be something you could handle at the moment. So you took the glasses, one in each hand, and gave one to Tarkin with a kind smile, only to be met with his unreadable expression. No matter how you smiled to him, he never returned even a twitch of a lip, but it didn’t matter, the fact he had found his way here to share a drink with you was more than enough to send your heart fluttering.

As you sat down, Grand Moff began his questioning that felt like an interrogation if you didn’t know him better. “What have you told Krennic? Or your coworkers?” Grand Moff asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied your expressions. A sigh left your lips.

“Nothing. Just what you told me: I’m a design engineer, was recruited by the COMPNOR and transferred to ISB so I could be more useful to Empire with my technical knowledge, but I’m more interested in the designing process. So now I’m designing Krennic’s pet project, a death laser in the sky,” you answered. You wanted to ask about the rumours, but you knew better than to ask, he would tell you when or if you needed to know.

“Nothing else? To anyone, not even a friend?” he inquired.

“No, I… Don’t really spend time with any of them, I’ve only exchanged a few words with Director Krennic after hours. Nothing other than work related, except with Krennic the other day,” you said, and the small space where you drew a breath was more than enough to make Tarkin think you had something to hide, but you knew better than to try hiding anything from him.

“A conversation with Krennic? And you are certain you didn’t say anything that might catch his interest?” Tarkin asked, with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No, he just wanted to ask how I was managing my new position, and why I was staying for so long after hours. All I said I was fine, I had nothing better to do so I finished the design, he seemed to like it. He said he appreciated my enthusiasm and how clean my designs were,” you said, and a warm, happy smile grew on your face, heating your cheeks. Tarkin put his glass on a table and stood up, taking very deliberate steps toward you, so you put your glass away and stood up, just in case he needed something from you. Your heart stopped, skipped a few beats, as Tarkin pushed you to the wall, gripping your shoulders and keeping you an arms length away. The suddenness of the motion and pain of hitting the wall while strong fingers dug into your flesh finally made you look into his eyes, looking for an answer for the change in him. His eyes now a few shades darker in the shadows, his lips dry and breath hot, and with an expression of furious disappointment, he puts two fingers, long and warm, of his right hand under your chin to keep your eyes on him.

“You do as I tell you, always?” he asked.

“Always, sir,” you answered.

“Then take off your shirt,” he whispered before taking a step back so he could see you fully. A shiver of cold went through your body, but you complied. As your hands began opening the buttons, quietly trembling in fear, Tarkin licked his dry lips and let his eyes wander over your body, letting his mind memorise the patterns of your curves. Though his hand was no longer under your chin, you tried to keep your eyes up, trying to meet his gaze and follow his silent command. Shirt open, you throw it on the floor, and Tarkin immediately commands you to take off your skirt. With a small flick from your wrist, you open the zipper and let your skirt fall to the floor. The mock garter wasn’t something Grand Moff had expected, but the red suited you well and it left your bottom nicely exposed, only panties left to guard your cunt.

“To the bed, now, on your hands and knees,” Grand Moff ordered, and you obeyed. As you walked to the bedroom, he followed in your footsteps. You could hear him open his belt buckle. It let out an audible cling as he pulled it through the loops and folded it, a sharp snap as he felt it in his hands. As you assume your position, he slapped your bottom with his bare hand once, then twice, and grabbed the bottom. He wanted to go on, wanted to feel your body, taste and devour you, but he had to control the situation, he wanted to control every aspect of this encounter. With a word he could make you cum, make you please him in a way he had not felt before, he would make you scream in pain and pleasure, he would torture you in all the ways that made you wet, and he would make you like every second of it. The rules were simple and lax: No kisses on the mouth, and no lasting scars. There was no love in his desires, but the jealousy that he felt when he had found out Krennic had asked about you from ISB, seeming like you had caught his eye and he wanted to get close to you. The smile you gave when talking about Krennic made Tarkin feel something different, something he needed to let out, and now he could, with the leather belt on your bottom. Slap, flick, smack, slap, few seconds of silence, slap, smack. He let out a heavy sigh, letting you rest for a moment there, in front of him holding back tears and trying to adjust to the sudden pain. It wasn’t unexpected, just harder than before, and your hands gripped the bed sheets, knuckles almost as white as the sheet itself.

“You may moan for me,” Tarkin instructed before letting his hand grab the cheeks of your bottoms, gently giving it a spank with the palm of his hand. A moan, needy and pained, left your lips, and was answered with a twitch in his lips, like a smile, but there was no one to see it, at least at that moment.

#part 1 #tarkin x reader #x f!reader #wilhuff tarkin #grand moff tarkin #star wars fanfiction #swvillains

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lady-maria-the-wolf225 · 4 years

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Mikey x Fem! reader ch: 2 & 3 (combined)

(Y/N) had no idea who that stranger was. Despite the dangers ahead, she doesn't care much about that. She couldn't stop thinking about those hands however. She has never seen anyone with three fingers in her whole life. Other than that, she wants answers. With a boost of confidence, instead of going home, staying out late should be a breeze. In her opinion to be exact. It was the next morning, and she grabbed some extra food and soda to help her stay up all night as much as possible. School is the same as yesterday. Thankfully she wasn't given any homework today either. She met up with her friends at an after school club and hopes she doesn't forget what she has to do afterwards. After the club has ended, it's time for her to find the mystery stranger.

(Y/N)'s P.O.V

I was walking around trying to find the figure. It was very quiet as usual. There was no sign of anything....nothing. Just myself. I sighed thinking to myself if I would just give up, but I chose not to. I kept on walking far and wide into the streets. That is until I found it. The figure.....it was standing before me. But why? Whatever it may be, I do feel a bit uneasy. Without saying a word, the figure runs off quickly. I decided to follow it. I ran to its direction as fast as I could. When It got to a corner of a random street, it stopped. I hid in a corner of a wall that way it won't see me. I waited for the figure to make its move. That's when it jumped into a sewer. "A sewer? B-but why would- *sigh*. Who am I kidding?" I walked towards the sewer area. I know I couldn't get in that way because the lid itself is too heavy to lift. I looked around to see if there may be a second entrance to it. And I did. There was a rectangular hole that seemed big enough for me to squeeze in. I took off my backpack, and managed to enter. I grabbed my bag, and started to walk into the sewer line. It was really dark so I had to take out my phone to turn on the flashlight. I kept on walking until I fell into a slide like area. I was sliding downward screaming but laughing at the same time. It was kinda fun, it almost felt like one of those water slides you go on in a local water park. I landed on my ass which kinda hurt. "Ouch!" I rubbed it, and got up immediately. There are so many sewer pipes, I couldn't figure out where the figure may be, so I decided to go straight. It was a long path to get through. Just as I felt like I may be close, I heard footsteps. No. more than just footsteps. A skateboard too? I started to panic a bit but managed to find a sewer pipe large enough for my tiny body to fit. I hid in there, and waited for whoever was coming straight ahead. What I saw, made me wonder. There was.....four creatures running passed me. "Hey guys! Wait up!" said the fourth mysterious figure trying to get its skateboard running. What's weird, is that it has rockets on it. Plus, I can't even see the person at all. Just a silhouette. "Come on Mikey! We got some foot clan butt to kick!" another one said in the distance "okay okay! Calm down Raph! It's not the end of the world you know!" it rode away with the others and the sound soon went to silence. I slowly got out, and decided to keep walking "that was.....Fucking weird." I said to myself trying to figure out who those people were. I walked a couple more steps until I found this strange looking door. Well technically it's not a door per say. I noticed it was slightly opened. I looked back for a quick moment to see if no one else was around. The coast is clear thank god. I slowly opened the strange yet mysterious entrance, and revealed some kind of lair. It's weird that a lair is located in a sewer. I also noticed The height of the entrance from here all the way to the ground does seem a little high. So basically I had to jump down like as if i'm in an action movie. I took a deep breath and counted to three. "one.....two.....Three!" I jumped and managed to land on my backpack since it's on my back obviously. I got up and stared at the place. "Woah!...." I walked around, and it had crazy technology, bedrooms, exercise weights, and a ramp for I'm guessing skateboard tricks like the ones you see at a local park. I looked around and noticed there was a sleeping rat in one of the rooms. A huge rat to be exact. I almost made a single sound after it scared me. But thankfully my words were stuck down to my throat. I sighed in relief that it didn't wake up at all. Guess it's a heavy sleeper. I walked around some more, and the bedrooms have doors. The same exact shape as the one where I entered the place. I entered one of them and noticed a small TV with a PS2 and DVD player sitting there. The room was kind of a mess too. It was littered with pizza boxes and candy wrappers. Gross. In the corner of the room, there was a mini fridge with a pack of Orange Crush Soda hidden in the back of it. After taking a look at that, I checked at the condition of the TV and PS2. surprisingly, they were in good shape. Even the DVD player is too. The TV is an early 2000s model. Old, but still good. I turned both of them on, and they work. "Oh. neat" I smiled a bit and I made the decision to play with it. I slowly and quietly closed the strange door, and took out one of my old games I always played in my childhood. "I haven't played Sonic Unleashed in a while. Might as well go ahead and play for a bit." I turned down the volume as low as possible so I didn't wake up the strange rat, and started playing. An hour in a half passed, and I started to get tired. Although I did eat a few of my snacks and since I ran out of drinks I ended up drinking some of the orange crush soda from the back of the mini fridge, I kept on yawning. Since I'm too lazy to head home, I might as well just spend the night here. I paused the game, and ended up falling asleep on the nice bed. It's kinda nice here. Quiet, no interruptions, a nice spot to play some games and have some time for myself. I just hope nothing goes wrong at all.

end of P.O.V The Mysterious heroes who are actually turtles have returned home to the sewers and one of them spoke. "Sensei! We're back!" the rat was meditating and no longer sleeping. "Where have you four been?" The turtle with the blue bandana named Leonardo spoke "we had another foot clan attack. We managed to stop them on time." The rat sighed. "Did anyone see you? Anyone at all?" they all shook their heads. "No Sensei. We got away as quickly as we could." The rat nodded and responded. "Good. you may all rest now my sons. We have a big day tomorrow." they all looked at each other. "What day is it?" Leonardo asked. "Training day." they all groaned and the rat chuckles. "Now go. I must concentrate." they all went to their rightful rooms and the youngest of the four named Michelangelo stretched his arms and fiddled with his orange bandana. "I'm gonna go on ahead and play me some video games!" as he got to his room, he noticed the TV was on along with the game system. "Huh? Hey wait a second! I don't remember playing this game at all!" He removes the game disc from the system, and yells out to one of his brothers. "Raph! Were you messing with my game system again!? And where did you get this game!? Did you rent it or something!?" The red bandana turtle named Raphael comes into the room. "What? No! What are you talking about? Lemme see that!" he takes the game disc from him and takes a look at it. "You serious? Do I look like the kind of guy who likes playing as a blue furry that runs like the flash?" Mikey stares at him in an irritating way as his own brother tosses the game disc across the room. He looks down and notices the empty cans of soda on the floor and looks back up at Raph. Raph himself was now getting angry. "You hid a stack of orange crush soda from me without even telling me!?" Mikey starts to get angry too. "Yes I did! And don't lie to me! I know YOU found them, and did this for a good laugh!" Mikey and Raph argue back and forth until they stopped when they notice movement in Mikey's bed. "What was that?...." Raph pushes him out of the way, and takes out one of his weapons. "Stand back." He grabs the sheets, and snatches them out of the way and sees (Y/N) sleeping. They both stood back as Raph dropped his weapon in complete shock. "How- what-.....where-?....oh god there's a g- a gi-..." he couldn't speak and they both looked at each other and ran out of the room in a panic. "Donnie! Leo!" they both yelled as the other two were busy doing their thing. "What? What happened?" Donatello said as he adjusted his glasses and purple bandana. "There's a g-girl in my room! And a- and uh R-Raph almost killed her on my own bed! And-" Donnie stopped Mikey. "woah woah woah! Slow down! You're saying there's a girl in your room?" Mikey nodded frantically. Leo shows up eventually and spoke to them. "what are they talking about?" Donnie responds to him with a sigh. "it appears they saw a human girl in Mikey's bed." Leo looks at them and takes a deep breathe "show me. Now!" they take them to the bed, and see (Y/N) still asleep. They all looked at her and Donnie started analyzing her. "Okay. according to my analysis, she is 18 years of age, 5'0 feet tall, 125 pounds, (H/C), (E/C), and somehow it shows me her uhh.....cup size. They're quite an impressive size for a young adult if you ask me. Wish it didn't scan them though." the other three's eyes lit up when they heard that word "cup size huh? What is that?" Mikey asked. Donnie whispers to them what cup sizes are, and they widened their eyes in surprise. Mikey blushes bright red. "Aaaaand I am now questioning my own innocence, thank you very much." Raph smirks giving his younger brother a noogie "all right Mikey! Our own little bro's first lesson in becoming a man! Woo!" Mikey playfully pushes him off shaking his head smiling. "tch. whatever bruh." Donnie finishes analyzing, and looks at Leo. "what shall we do?" Leo looks at the girl and sighs "well uhhh-" Mikey interrupts him jumping up and down excitedly "Can we keep her? I promise to take good care of her! please?" Raph and Donnie facepalms, and Leo looks at Mikey with a long pause, then proceeds to speak. "We'll might as well let her stay for the night. But we're taking her back home tomorrow!" Mikey squeals excitedly "Yes!" Leo then talks again "and one more thing! If Master Splinter finds out, we gotta tell the truth. But first when she wakes up, we gotta know how she got here. First thing in the morning before our training day starts. Got it?" Mikey nods. "Oh yeah! Totally. Yeah...." Leo nods. "Good. come on guys. We gotta go to bed. Sensei wants tomorrow to be on point. That goes for you too Mikey!" Mikey nods with a smile on his face "aye aye captain boss bro!" Raph looks at Mikey who is staring at (Y/N) "she's really pretty man." Raph nods "yeah. Never seen a girl like her before. Hopefully when she wakes up, we can have a nice chat with her." Mikey nods. "What about April? She's pretty too." Raph chuckles shaking his head "nah. She's too bland. Maybe this one may be a keeper." he winks with a daring smile. Mikey chuckles and Raph pats him on the back. "Well it's getting late. Night Mikey. See ya in the morning." Mikey looks at his brother as Raph leaves the room. "Night bro." Mikey decides to sleep on the floor and hopes this girl may be the one for him. Despite that, in his heart, he can feel it beating like a steady drum right now which means it's love at first sight for him. TO BE CONTINUED!....chapter 4 and 5 are next soon! :)

#michelangelo #tmnt bayverse #fanfic #romance

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frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

Day Dreaming

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Jake and Y/N becoming our favorite, fluffiest couple. Set to the tune of Day Dreaming by Jack & Jack.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: NSFW activity insinuated just a tiny bit but not really described

N/N = nickname

Y/N looked up from her feet as a car came to a stop in front of her, smiling as she caught sight of the driver. She stood quickly, dusting off whatever residue the curb may have left on her jeans before walking over to get in.

"Sorry to interrupt your previously scheduled drooling over John McClane," she joked as she put on her seatbelt.

Jake rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that formed as he turned to her. "So why didn't you call your asshat of a boyfriend to pick you up?"

"Ex-boyfriend, technically. Just broke up with him."

"And he left you out here alone?!"

"Yep! We got into an argument on the way to what was supposed to be a nice stargazing picnic date, and because he has no regard for the safety of a young woman on the streets of Brooklyn at night, he left me here." She held up a single key. "Grabbed this first, but I should've taken the food, too."

"Don't worry. I've got it covered." He finally pulled away from the curb, not stopping again until he parked outside of a small restaurant. "I'll be right back."

Y/N watched as Jake came out ten minutes later, holding a large paper bag and two bottles of orange soda. She took the objects from him with a smile so he could drive freely, her expression shifting slightly after a few minutes.

"Jake?"

"Yes, N/N?"

"Why are you going in the opposite direction of your apartment?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" He looked over to her with a softness in his features that made her heart race. "I'm taking you on that date."

Y/N placed a hand over her heart, playful pout on her lips and admiration in her eyes. "God, how did I get so lucky?"

Jake simply chuckled, biting his lip slightly to hold back his thought that just maybe he was the lucky one.

They reached somewhat of an open field after a long drive, Jake turning the engine off and leaving the radio on before getting out. Y/N followed him out with the food, watching in amusement as he dug a blanket out of the trunk and spread it over the windshield and hood.

"You seem really prepared for this," she teased as he lowered the windows and turned up the radio.

"I've always been ready to take you out, just waiting on your permission."

"Well, you have it," she told him as she climbed up next to him, handing him a soda and opening the bag. "Italian subs!"

He chuckled again as he took one from her, his eyes lingering on her profile for a moment before mimicking her actions of leaning back and taking a bite.

Stars on my roof, we parked up on Mulholland Tell you the truth, girl, I think that I'm falling But I love it And you love it too

Jake found himself breaking free of his daze as Y/N took his trash and threw it in the bag with hers before tossing everything through the car window on her side.

"Ready to stargaze?" she asks with a sweetness in her tone that had Jake ready to pull her in his arms and kiss her until the sun came up. Instead he nodded, leaning back against the windshield and pulling her in to rest against his chest.

Late weekends, daydreaming They all want you for the same reason But me, I'm in it for the long haul, girl I want ya til you ain't breathing Until you ain't breathing Hit it from the back, stay screaming

They both collapsed onto the bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat that glistened in the sunlight from the nearby window. Y/N let out a slight laugh that left her body in pleasure filled gasps as she came down slowly from her high.

"Wow."

"Good wow or bad wow?"

She rolled over to face him, a surprised look in her eyes. "Can't believe you have to ask after how loud I just was." She laughs as he does, a grin forming as she finds herself in his arms again. "Do you have to go?" she asks, looking up with a slight pout.

"Are you kidding? I just made up for years of exercising, I need to recover." His cocky smirk faded slightly as he leaned in to kiss her forehead before pulling away again to meet her eyes. "Did you want me to or...?"

"No!" she answers quickly, her eyes widening slightly. "I mean, no, unless you want to. I'm not really used to anyone staying after they fuck me, so. Asshat sure didn't."

"That's because Asshat apparently was blind because he clearly didn't see that he was dating a goddess. Unluckily for him, my eyes work fine—special shout-out to my contacts—and I will be cuddling you post-sexy times for the rest of our days."

Y/N simply snuggled further into his arms in response, pressing her cheek to his chest to hide her rapidly growing grin.

Oh, I love it and she love it too So we love it, it's a dream come true When we're lovin', it feels so brand new It's paradise here in this room

"Babe, you're home!" Jake watches with a grin as Y/N puts her bag beside the door and eagerly comes over to slide into his lap. "How was your day?" he asks after placing a few kisses on her impatient lips and sliding an arm around her waist.

"Well, I spent the day getting a ton of compliments on this new addition." She held out her left hand in front of her, unable to tear her eyes away from the ring wrapped around her finger.

"Oh yeah? How did Herman take it?"

She frowned at him as she wrapped her other arm around his shoulders. "Jacob, I will not be the reason that an elderly man has a heart attack."

Jake's eyes immediately widened. "Well, I'm not gonna tell him!"

"How do you expect him to be one of your groomsmen at the literal wedding if you don't tell him we're getting married?"

"Babe, I had to tell Charles. I think I've gone through enough."

"Ugh, fine, I'll do it. But only because you got that video of Charles' reaction." She giggles as she leans against him, sighing softly as he begins to rub her back. "I love you. I can't wait to marry you."

"I love you, too. And I also can't wait to marry you. Real nervous about dancing in front of our friends, though."

More giggles came out as she leaned up slightly to kiss his cheek.

"Don't worry, it'll just be you and me."

Tags: @halfofwhatisayismeaningless @gaulty74 @ochrythum

#queue #jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x fem!reader #jake peralta imagine #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic

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my-fanfic-library · 5 years

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [22]

Masterlist

~^*^~

“Drac!”

The gasp of his name filled the hallway, right after the sound of his hand slapping your ass. He chuckled, your pout only managing to be adorable to him.

“I couldn’t help it. My god, I never want to see you wear anything except leggings again.” He breathed.

“Typical male.” You rolled your eyes, hitching the strap of your gym bag higher up your shoulder.

You stalked towards the elevator, ignoring the hot gaze the vampire was currently giving you. Maybe inviting him to the gym was a very bad idea. Especially in the outfit he had decided to sport to “fit in”. A muted grey/green t-shirt, a little baggy, a little low cut on the neckline, exposing just a tease of his collarbones. The black joggers were an anomaly to his usual wardrobe choices.

“Instead of going to the gym, I propose we stay here and improvise.” You finally turned your head to send him a venomous look.

“You literally took months of reluctance to even fucking finger me and now you won’t even let me go to the gym because my leggings rile you up?” You feigned an angry tone, “stay here if that’s how you’re going to be.” You pressed the button, waiting for the elevator.

“I already told you, I can’t do what I want to you. Did our little session the other day ease any of your tension?”

You rolled your eyes, face flushing as you thought back to a few days ago. The doors opened and you strolled in, the tall vampire hot on your heels. You turned to face the doors, only to almost knock into his chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist and pulled you up to your tippy toes. You glared up at him as the door snapped shut.

“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice was a little gravelly, the sound of it making your heart skip a beat.

“I rolled my eyes. That’s an answer in my books.”

“Clearly I’m going to have to do something more... strenuous next time.” His lips came down on to your jawline, pressing tender kisses to your skin. You hummed.

Then, his fingers slipped a little lower, eventually making their way to your ass. He squeezed, making sure to get as much into his hands as he could.

“Stop!” You laughed, twisting away from him. His grip tightened.

“Why?” He whispered against your skin, “we are the only occupiers of the elevator, right now. Would it be so terrible?”

“Yes, seriously I’m about to go back upstairs and change.”

“Don’t,” he growled, squeezing harshly, causing your to gasp, your hands moved to snake around his neck, “even think about it.”

“I have no idea what’s made you so possessive all of a sudden, but you pack it in now, mister.” You playfully commanded.

Dracula’s lips continued on your neck, and he clearly had no intention of stopping even after the elevator had reached the bottom of the building and the doors opened.

~^*^~

The gym was an... experience. Upon leaving, you vowed to never let Dracula tag along again. No less than four times did he get into altercations with other men who had been ogling you (three out of the four being during your squat session), and he was adamant on just watching you which was off putting. When you had invited him along, you had hoped that he would actually partake in exercise.

Apparently you were too distracting.

Said the man who had sat on the bench press, practically drooling whilst you did your warming up lunges and stretches.

Yeah, he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near the gym again if that was where you intended to go.

When you returned back to the apartment, you noticed a missed call on your phone. Your mother. Whilst you had been in contact with her, it was time for her annual summer party, in which all of her friends, and their friends, and her colleagues and their friends crowded your home for hours on end. It was so exhausting to have to socialise with so many people that you didn’t know or care about.

As you called her back, you regretted it almost instantly.

“[First]! Finally, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you!”

“Yeah, sorry, I was at the gym.”

“Look, you know that my party is next week, right? You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

“Erm, I don’t actually know...”

“Oh come on, [First], I haven’t seen you in so long! You have to come!”

“Well, I mean, I’ve not been in London long and-“

“Yes, apparently you’ve shacked up with some man!”

“Mother!” You shrieked. Clearly Dracula had heard, since he turned around to send you the most devilish grin. You batted him away, “that’s not true!”

“Well, Martha rang me up and told me she saw you out shopping with some man your father’s age! And then Daphne FaceTimed me and told me she’d seen you in a car on two occasions with the same man!”

“Oh my god!” You groaned, “stop listening to gossip about your own daughter from the fishwives!” You scolded.

“I’ll keep going if you don’t agree to come.” You could hear her playful smile.

“Alright! Fine, I’ll come.”

“And bring your mystery man - apparently he’s quite a looker-“ you hung up, not wanting to think about your own mother drooling over your boyfriend.

“Who was that lovely woman?” Dracula was very clearly trying to wind you up.

“Oh shut it.” You snapped, “you’re just smug because they think you’re attractive.”

“Well, I am.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh!” You groaned, stomping away to get dressed.

The week dragged. Your mother was constantly ringing to harass you over the party. ‘Black tie but casual, [First]!’ ‘Don’t forget that Brenda’s son Mark is coming, I believe you’d suit each other quite nicely!’ ‘Have you decided what you’re going to wear?’ ‘Your entrance fee can be a platter of those nice little sandwiches you make!’

It was dizzying and to add insult to injury, your mother’s constant inquires on your “mystery man” was blowing up his ego quicker than you could say ‘bloodsucker’. Oh, if you had a stake you’d strike it right through his heart if it meant one moment of peace. You eventually told him about your mother’s plan to hook you up with this Mark (which had been ongoing since you were 16 and he was 18) which switched his mood a whole 180° extremely quickly. Now you had an impatient mother and a grumpy vampire.

Was god punishing you for your fornications with the man currently lying next to you, facing towards the wall instead of you?

Technically you hadn’t even had sex, so technically there was nothing to punish.

Or was it just because he was a vampire?

You scoffed in amusement at your thoughts.

“Thinking about Mark are you?” Dracula grumbled.

“Oh yes.” You jeered, “tall, handsome Mark and how I think I may have to take up my mother’s offer and see him to dinner. I wonder how far he’d go on the first date... it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex-“

Within a matter of seconds, you were pinned under the vampire, his dark pools swimming with all sorts of angst. His lips curled down into a scowl. You felt like you deserved a punch to the face. How you managed to dig yourself an even deeper hole was beyond you.

Well, Dracula found use for the belt that had been on the bedside table and you had learnt your second lesson on purposefully making him jealous. You were sure you were growing addicted to his fingers.

~^*^~

You swallowed, looking over yourself one last time in the mirror before you stepped out of the room. The black satin cami dress was formal, right? It came down to your knees, with a little bit of a peplum hem at the bottom. It was a little revealing, mostly on your chest, but you had accessoried to keep the attention on the gorgeous Whitby Jet wrapped around your neck concealing your bite. Yes, you looked fine.

Nerves would always eat you up before you attended these stupid parties.

Stepping out into the main room, you held your breath. Holy fuck. Dracula was leaning against the table, clearly bored of waiting for you. His hair was tousled back, a few strands falling forwards towards his forehead. A black shirt sat undone on the upper half of his chest, and over the top a black suit jacket rolled up past the elbows. You oggled his forearms and the image of the way they flexed as he pumped his fingers into you flashed through your head. Your eyes moved down to his legs, form fitting suit pants showcasing his thighs and you almost drooled. Running a hand through your hair, you coughed, grabbing his attention.

The moment his eyes fell on you, your heart quite literally stopped. His eyes... oh dear god. It was the way you’d begged god to make someone look at you. Just once. So much love, a sparkle of utter awe of you, glistening the truth of his affection. His lips quirked up into a smile. His eyes racked over your body, loving the way your dress fit you perfectly, hinting at your body but leaving the majority of it to the imagination. It was long enough to not be dignity-diminishing, but short enough to give attention to your legs.

“If I hadn’t made a promise to give you the best life, I would take you right here on this table,” he patted the marble, “and drink every ounce of nectar within your veins.”

“Keep talking like that and I will make you do it.” You smirked.

“I promised you I’d help you live,” he prowled towards you, unable to wait another moment to pull you into him, “and I believe you see our union differently to how I do.” He fornwed just a little and you pulled yourself into him, drowning him in your perfume and warmth.

“It’s just sex.” You retorted, looking up at him.

“Not with you it wouldn’t be.” He whispered, “and whatever coward made you think that it’s “just sex” would be advised to never come a step near to me.”

“Why, would you teach him your ideas on union?” You chuckled, your slightly dirty joke apparently going over his head.

“I’d fucking kill him for taking your body so intimately and convincing you that it meant nothing.”

You chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss to his neck. He hummed, feeling the soft fabric of your dress beneath his fingertips. He was so thankful that you had chosen him. Lucky was the understatement of the century.

~^*^~

Your mother continued to look out of the window every minute or so, anticipating your arrival. After most adamantly demanding that you bring the gentleman you had been living with, she was at a peaked curiosity. Was he truly so much older than you? And was he as handsome as her friends made out?

He turned out to be definitely rich, pulling up in a sparkling Jaguar. She almost squealed in anticipation - much like a teenager - and the tray of appetisers she had been holding flew up into the air.

Your father grumbled at the commotion and apologised to the men he had been speaking to. He explained that your mother was on edge, awaiting to see what her daughter was about to drag into the house.

The aura that swept the house when you and Dracula entered seemed to affect every guest present, and all eyes were suddenly on you.

“[First]!” She greeted lovingly, pretending she hadn’t been waiting for the last 45 minutes by th window.

“Hi mother,” you greeted, letting her pull you into a brief hug. Her eyes wandered past you and to the tall gentleman standing just at the step of the door, smiling sheepishly, “it’s alright, love. You can come in.”

Your wicked eyes sent him a mischevuous look. He frowned, knowing that you were internally laughing at him still not entering without an invitation. Would your parents mind so much if he spanked you in front of them?

“And, my, who is this... gentleman?” She breathed, clearly impressed by his face, but unimpressed at his presence with you.

“This is-“

“Count Dracula.” He cut your off, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. [Last].” He smiled at her, taking her hand and briefly kissing her knuckles, “[First] has told me so much about what an amazing woman you are.” She couldn’t help but laugh airily at the compliment.

“Well, I’ve done my best for my daughter. Come on through, both of you. [First], your father is just by the kitchen.”

She rushed past you, pushing past people as quickly as she could to make her way back to the kitchen. That gossip! Your eyes filtered through the people until you found your father talking to a few people. Intertwining your fingers with Dracula’s, you began to pull him into the living room when you were stopped by a man you didn’t recognise.

“What an honour it is, Count Dracula! My name is Richard Johnson, I own Johnson and Moore, a law company under your own. I was wondering when I’d finally meet the famous Dracula.” You turned to look at Dracula, who was smiling a little shyly.

“Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you as well, however as you can see I’m with-“

“No, it’s okay!” You quickly interjected, “I better go say hello to my dad before he feels rejected. I’ll let you two businessmen talk.” You winked at the vampire before scampering off towards your father.

“What a beautiful little thing she is!” Richard eyed you as you left, “you’ve got to tell me how you got such a young one.” He laughed.

“Well, I could tell you,” Dracula began with a fake smile, “but I’d have to kill you afterwards.”

Neither of them realised that you had heard and you grinned at Dracula’s words.

Your arms snaked around your father’s waist as you rested your head on his shoulder. He continued his sentence to the two men he was engaged in conversation with. When he had finished, he took a sip from his drink and then manuvered his head to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Here she is, my little detective!” He laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “you wouldn’t believe this kid used to poop in our garden drain, would you?”

“Do you have to say that to everyone you introduce me to?” You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning.

“Baby, I’m going to bring it up at your wedding and tell all of my grandbabies.” The two men standing opposite from you laughed at his words.

“I’ve read some of your journals, [First], you’ve grown into a very intelligent and respectable young woman.” You pulled yourself from your father as he spoke to you, smiling shyly.

“Thank you, I’ve worked hard to be where I am today.”

“Yes, didn’t you spent quite some time in Yorkshire?” The other man began, “your father was telling us you were part of some coverup story within the Jonathan Harker Foundation.”

“Well, that’s simply not true. And even if it were, I couldn’t tell you, Pauly.” You grinned, clearly teasing him.

“Awe, come on, [First]! Don’t you remember when I used to dress up as Santa and bring you all those wonderful presents?”

“Well, I suppose I could tell you,” you began, “but I’d have to kill you afterwards.”

Your eyes moved across the other side of the room and locked with your favourite pair in the entire world. He was smirking right back at you. ‘Touche’ he mouthed at you. His eyes sparkled as they continuously washed over you. Wait... was he really eye fucking you in a room full of people?! Your father’s conversation ended quickly after that and he was quick to pull you into the corner to have a private word with you.

“You, young lady, are driving your mother up the wall with the gentleman you’ve been seeing, you know that don’t you?” He was unable to hold back his amusement.

“Of course I know that.” You laughed.

“Then go and talk to her!” He laughed. Clearly he was already growing drunk.

“Alrighty. Don’t drink too much, okay?” You patted his arm, side stepping to get ready to make your way to the kitchen.

“I can’t promise you anything, buttonnose.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek and sent you on your way to the kitchen.

Before you even made your way in, you could hear all of the wives whispering and giggling. Did they seriously not realise that they were not still school girls? You rolled your eyes and made your way in.

Your mother jumped at your intrusion and you were soon bombarded in compliments on how pretty you’d gotten, how tall you’d grown, congratulations on your work, and question upon question about Dracula and intimate details of your plans. Mostly marriage and children.

Two hours later and you found yourself by your mother’s side. Dracula had blended in well, making conversation with almost everyone that approached him. You had barely seen him, but your mother had been talking quite a bit to him. Standing washing your hands after eating a few greasy little bites, she came to your aide.

You were dreading whatever she had to say and prayed that this would be a short and sweet conversation. She was obsessed with you getting into a relationship and you had finally found someone that made you happy and she wasn’t satisfied.

“[First],” she began warily, “Dracula seems... nice...”

“He is.” You answered stoically.

“When did you meet him?”

“When I was working in Whitby last year.” You grasped a tea towel, beginning to dry your hands.

“Is he a detective like you?”

“First of all, I am not a detective - I’m a Supervisory Special Agent specialising in criminology. Secondly, he is not a detective and you would know from all of your eavesdropping that he is a businessman.”

“Don’t accuse your own mother of eavesdropping!” She scolded.

“Weren’t you?” You challenged.

“I just... I just think you’ve made a mistake, [First]. He’s your father’s age for crying out loud!” She hissed, clearly not wanting the other wives to hear such an embarrassing conversation.

Silly woman. He’s ten times your father’s age.

You scoffed at her words.

“What, so because he’s a little older than me I can’t be with him?”

“No, I’m not saying that I’m just-... is he your sugar daddy?!” She suddenly gasped.

“No mother!” You exclaimed.

“I had to ask, sorry.”

“What, did Brenda tell you that? Or maybe Daphne? When will you all grow up and stop gossiping over your own children?!” She went quiet.

“...Will you at least consider Mark...?”

You groaned, having to throw the tea towel down and leave the room. Your face was flushed with anger and when you looked back up, your jaw hit the ground.

“Jack?”

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026

#i wrote this listening to years and years’ play on repeat #what a bop #something different #dracula #bbc dracula #netflix dracula #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #netflix dracula x reader #claes bang #what a snacc that man is

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mrslittletall · 4 years

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Title: The Race (Dark Souls Short Story 21) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Crossbreed Priscilla, Great Grey Wolf Sif, Dark Sun Gwyndolin Word Count: 2.066 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329167

Summary: Priscilla and Sif race each other in the Dark Moon Tomb.

(Author's note: This little fic was inspired by a video, namely this one that pitted Priscilla and young Sif in a race against each other, in the Dark Moon Tomb, with Gwyndolin being the referee. The comments were delighted by this idea and I thought why not turn it into a fic? So here it is. A fic inspired by a boss vs. boss video ^^)

Priscilla took a deep breath, appreciating the crisp morning air on this fresh day of autumn. It was still early, the sun barely having shown its face to bask Anor Londo in its golden light, and the streets were still empty. She had gotten up early, her father still asleep after a night of experiments, and she longed to go for a walk until he awoke, so that they could take in their breakfast together.

Priscilla, shouldering her scythe, walked towards the cathedral. Technically she didn't need her weapon, but she was hoping that maybe one of the knights would be awake for some sparring. She longed for more than just a walk, some exercise. As interesting as it could be to watch her father's experiments, she wanted to have some more action in her days, something her father couldn't give her well, even in his more humanoid form.

Once Priscilla reached the cathedral, she had to find out that nobody in there was awake yet or at least they weren't ready yet, still preparing for the day. It was too calm and only some of the silver knights were on guard, bowing to her when they saw her cross. She knew that they wouldn't be able to abandon their post and she knew that for a being her strength and size, for a proper sparring, she had to ask Sir Ornstein or Sir Artorias, the only ones that wouldn't be done for with a single swing of her scythe.

Priscilla returned the silver knights bow with a curtsy of her own before a small sigh escaped her lips. She kept moving and soon was behind the cathedral, where the stables were located. There, she saw a being that was awake and not on duty.

It was Sif, Sir Artorias' wolf puppy, though she classified as a great grey wolf and even at her young age, she was as tall as a regular large dog.

Once Sif caught her scent, she barked and ran up to Priscilla, excitedly wagging her tail.

“Good morning to you, Sif.”, Priscilla smiled and gave the puppy a firm pat on the head. “Sir Artorias is still asleep, I assume?”

Priscilla knew that Sif couldn't answer to her question, but she had the feeling that the wolf could understand her words. The ways her ears drooped and her posture deflated, told her everything she needed to know.

“You are lonely on this morning, aren't you?”, Priscilla said, kneeling down and carefully giving Sif a hug. She knew how Sif felt. Even though her father had managed for her that she was allowed to stay and didn't got banished to what was described as a cold and lonely place, she could still feel the prejudice against her kind. Not only was she half dragon, her father was also the infamous Duke Seath, a dragon that got rejected by the population, with many of the citizens claiming that he only was allowed to stay because of Lord Gwyn.

While Sif didn't had to face these troubles, animals weren't allowed in the cathedral and so she had to stay at the stables, longing for Sir Artorias to come visit her every day.

Priscilla broke the hug and sat herself down on the cobblestone, watching as Sif picked up a sword that looked like a perfect recreation of Sir Artorias' own one and trotted over to her, a certain glint in her eyes.

“Are you challenging me to a duel, noble wolf?”, Priscilla smiled. Sif hopped up and down and let out a few short barks. It seemed Priscilla wasn't the only one longing for some action.

“While I would like to fulfil your wish, you are a bit too small to spar against me.”, she said. “But we could do something different... I heard Sir Artorias boasting about how fast you can run. Would you settle for a race, little Sif?”

Sif cocked her head and then dropped the sword, happily panting instead.

“Though... it could be difficult...”, Priscilla said. “While Anor Londo surely is big enough for us to race, after what happened to Sir Ornstein the last time he went for a run, we have been forbidden to race through Anor Londo. If there only would be a place, like a very long corridor, where none of us could fall down... Of, of course!”, Priscilla clapped her hands and got up. “The Dark Moon Tomb! At this time of day, there shouldn't be anyone there. Sif, let's go!”

Sif happily followed Priscilla along, all while playfully trying to bite on her tail during the way, with Priscilla pulling it away every time before Sif could get a clear bite, but she knew, even if Sif had managed to bite on it, her thick fur would have protected her from the baby teeth of the wolf.

Ten minutes later they stood in front of the tomb. A statue of Lord Gwyn normally hid the entrance to it, but Gwyndolin had shown Priscilla how to access the place and since then, for her the illusion was broken. She wondered if Sif even saw the illusion, it might have been different for an animal.

She gave Sif a glance and a smile and then stepped through the fog gate that was concealing the corridor that led to the tomb.

“Thou art up early, Lady Priscilla.”

Priscilla startled at the sudden voice, having expected nobody in the tomb. In front of her stood the Dark Sun, Gwyndolin.

“Lord Gwyndolin...”, Priscilla spoke. “We didn't mean to intrude on thee. We thought that nobody would be here right now.”

“Worry not.”, Gwyndolin gave Priscilla a smile. “I simply have visited mine father's tomb, as it belongs to my duties. I wish thee and young Sif a wonderful morning. May I ask what led the both of thee here?”

“A good morning to thee too, Lord Gwndolin.”, Priscilla said and bowed to the god. Sif repeated the gesture at her side, leaving no doubt for Priscilla that she indeed understood the words they said.

“To make it short, the both of us felt the mood to exercise on this wonderful morning, but Sif is too small to spar with me. So... I suggested that we could race instead, but we had to find a place where none of us could get hurt, after what happened to Sir Ornstein last month...”

“That hasn't even been the first time.”, Gwyndolin said. “He never learns... I am just glad he didn't get hurt too much. So, thou thought that this corridor would be the right place for thine race?”

“Y-yes.”, Priscilla felt her face blushing a bit, hoping that she hadn't said something blasphemous. This was the tomb of the great Lord Gwyn after all. Even if he wasn't physically laying here, having gone to link the flame instead and never returned.

“May I watch thine race?”, Gwyndolin asked instead and Priscilla released the breath that she had been holding.

“Of course.”, she said. “It would be our honour.”

“Actually... let's make this race a bit more exciting.”, Gwyndolin said and with a flick of their catalyst, the corridor stretched. It was nothing short but impressive and even though Priscilla knew it was just an illusion, the corridor had easily become thrice the length it had been before.

Gwyndolin flicked their catalyst again and appeared at the far end of the corridor, Priscilla had to squint to see them. Then, a voice resonated in her head. I am sending my voice to thee telepathically. On my mark, thou will start. I am the referee and the goal of this race.

Priscilla nodded, even though Gwyndolin probably couldn't see her. Next to her, Sif let out a short bark.

Ready, set, GO!

As soon as Gwyndolin's voice had vanished, Priscilla started running, with her scythe in both hands. Her legs, long and strong, carried her easily over the smooth floor, which was a blessing for her, because she usually preferred to go barefoot. She could feel her tail swaying behind her, not caring about having any control over it. She was faintly aware that Sif's paws were pounding on the ground next to her, but she didn't keep it much thought, all she wanted to do was to run!

After she had crossed a good half of the distance, Priscilla noticed that a certain sound was missing and when she looked next to her, Sif wasn't there anymore. She turned her head to look behind her and saw Sif struggling keeping up, with that big sword in her mouth. She came to a skidding halt and broke out in a clear laugh.

“Oh Sif, look how that sword is slowing you down! How about you let go of it so that you can run without any hindrance?”, she said. “Where did you even get it... I thought you had dropped it earlier.” Sif must have picked it up when she wasn't watching and carried along somehow.

Sif stopped in front of her once she had caught up and looked up at her with this yellow eyes. She then dropped the sword and panted for a while, before giving out three short barks.

“Can we continue?”, Priscilla said and made herself ready, but Sif still barked and even jumped up, trying to reach for Priscilla's scythe.

“You... want for me to lay down my weapon too? But it doesn't slow me down at all.”, Priscilla was clearly confused why the wolf pup insisted so much that she let go of her scythe.

Let her have her will. Gwyndolin's voice resonated in Priscilla's head. Priscilla nodded and laid her scythe down, looking at Gwyndolin, who appeared to be farther away again.

I have made the corridor larger one more time, so that thou can start thine race anew. Gwyndolin's said.

Priscilla gave Sif a nod and then kneeled down, getting in position, her tail twitching in excitement. Sif gave her a small bark and prepared too, her tail as stiff as an icicle.

Once Gwyndolin had counted down, both of them started to ran, Priscilla was not having a care in the world as her whole body was concentrated on running, completely caught in the euphoria of getting all this pent up energy out, all through the act of running, while competing with a friend who was close on her heels.

Still, Priscilla was larger, her legs longer and soon she noticed that she left Sif behind again, starting to run slower, all because she wanted to give the wolf a good chance or at least the feel as if she had been close to beating her, but once Sif caught up, an angry bark told her, that Sif didn't approve of getting an empty victory.

“I am sorry.”, Priscilla said and started to run again, not looking back, until she arrived at Gwyndolin, panting, turning around to see Sif running towards them, who had distinctly fallen behind.

Once she arrived, she started to pant as well and then jumped around a few times, happily barking and jumping against Priscilla's palm.

“Yes, you have done well.”, Priscilla smiled as she enjoyed the soft but rough fur of the wolf puppy.

“Priscilla is the clear winner of this race.”, Gwyndolin announced. “It appears that thou art still a bit too small to beat her, Sif, but maybe thou just needeth a bit of training?”

“I gladly race you again, little Sif.”, Priscilla smiled. “And then, when we are done, we can get breakfast together.” Even though Priscilla had planned to take in breakfast with her father, she doubted he would awake until noon.

“I would approve of this.”, Gwyndolin gave a smile of their own. “I am here to assist thou with my illusions too. Artorias will make eyes when he sees how fast thou hast become.”

Sif looked from Gwyndolin to Priscilla and then jumped up, letting out an excited yelp. The rest of the morning, Priscilla was racing with Sif and once they were exhausted enough to warrant a break, they took in some breakfast with Gwndolin.

Maybe some days it was alright for Priscilla's father to sleep in. Because then she could spend time some quality time with her friends.

(Author's note: Yes, I am aware that Prilla is using you pronouns for Sif and thee/thou for Gwyndolin, I headcanon that she doesn't use the more formal speech for Sif, who is basically Artorias' pet. It makes more sense when you think about german or french polite forms of adressing someone.

I don't have a lot of clues how ye olde english functions, so if you have corrections, please give them to me.)

#dark souls #fanfiction #crossbreed priscilla #dark sun gwyndolin #great grey wolf sif #littlewritesstuff

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rainbhrts94writes · 4 years

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Tephra 03

Hello! Here’s the next thrilling instalment, hope you enjoy the banter as much as I do! :)

POV: Taehyung Warnings: None this chapter Word Count: 2.7K Rating: PG

Master List

Tephra 03

Namjoon had been acting weird, and not his usual weird, weirder than normal weird. Since he had started looking for that girl from the landslide, Joon had become hard to get ahold of, or when Taehyung had managed to find his brother, he always had somewhere to be. Taehyung hadn’t thought anything of it, though, until he caught sight of his brother breaking the curfew, not once, not twice, but three times. Sure, he wasn’t exactly abiding by it either, but for Joon not to follow the rules, something had to be going on, so Taehyung did what any good brother would do. He followed him.

It was that awful time of year where it was cold when you woke up and warm as classes let out for training. He never knew how to dress, but Taehyung had always hated being hot, so tonight he was wildly underdressed for the weather. As wonderful as his trusty flip flops were, it was moments like this where he wished he had inherited fire magic instead.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Taehyung kept up with Namjoon as he headed towards the training grounds. After-hours training, specifically unsupervised after-hours training, was one of the worst rules you could break; anyone who was caught was expelled. This had to be important for Namjoon to be risking expulsion.

Taehyung watched curiously as his brother knocked on the large wooden doors to the grounds; he didn’t get to see much, though, immediately encased in stone in his hiding spot. He had been caught.

“You are literally the least conspicuous person I’ve ever met.” A voice poked fun at Joon.

“I’m not sure I follow.” He could hear the confusion in his brother’s voice.

“Gods, you’re just lucky he cares about you enough to follow you instead of telling a teacher.” The voice sighed, clearly exasperated as the earth shifted beneath him.

“Oh.” When Namjoon turned around, he looked stunned, and it took everything for Taehyung not to laugh.

“Hi, Hyung.” He smiled. “Hello, Hyung’s friend.” he recognized her from the landslide. At least Namjoon found who he was looking for. What were they both doing out past curfew, though?

“YN, you can call me YN.” She introduced herself. “I believe we’ve met before, briefly.”

“The landslide,” Taehyung confirmed with the shake of his head and a smile. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“All part of the job.” She bowed slightly and shifted, so her badge hit the light. That explained why she hadn’t been in any of the classes. Though Taehyung was still confused, what was Joon doing out past curfew?

“Friendship isn't supposed to be considered a job.” Namjoon finally piped up.

“It is if you’re going to get yourself followed here every other night.” YN laughed, “Technically, it is still my job, though, friends or not.”

“So, uh, as comfortable as I am. Is there a protocol for this situation? Am I in trouble? Do I pretend I didn’t see anything? Can I come in for snacks? Do you even have snacks?” Taehyung asked the now bickering pair.

“I, crap, give me a second.” Without waiting for an answer, YN jogged back into the training grounds shutting the door behind her.

“I didn’t peg you as the illegal activities sort of guy.” Taehyung poked fun at his brother.

“I can have fun too.” Namjoon countered, looking a little peeved. “What about you? You had to be out past the curfew to have noticed me, let alone follow me here.”

“See, I AM the illegal activities sort of guy. I was just sitting on the roof admiring the sky when I noticed my plucky older brother wandering somewhere he shouldn’t be wandering.” Taehyung enjoyed watching his brother bristle.

“Taehyung, you are a member of the Atlas royal family now. How many times do you have to be told there are rules we have to follow.” Namjoon’s words were staccato, even though his eyes didn’t match the harshness of his tone.

“Technically, I’m only legally royal. The minute they find out if our younger sister can use magic or not, I’m immediately less important.” Taehyung tried to shrug, but his shoulders got caught on the rock surrounding him.

“Just because you're last in line for the throne does not mean negative actions on your part don’t affect the family.” Namjoon sighed.

“I’m not so sure about that; I’m not related to the royal family by blood.” he relaxed against the cool stone. “I’m sure they’d just disown me and move on. Reese would take my place in line with her legitimate magic and all that. I could write to my mom, maybe find my sister?”

“You make it sound like you’ve planned this out?” Namjoon questioned, now obviously warry.

“Not in an, ‘I’m going to do something illegal and get kicked out of school and the family,’ kind of way. I’ve always prepared myself for the possibility that I’d be removed from succession if someone questioned my lineage enough, though.” Taehyung said honestly.

“Just because you’re not related to us by blood doesn’t mean you’d be so willingly discarded,” Namjoon spoke, clearly trying to reassure his brother. “Besides, father had your old estate searched for any remains years ago. They never found anything; what makes you think your sister made it out alive?”

“They never found anything.” Taehyung’s voice grew serious. “That whole estate collapsed and was burned to the ground. They found my dad; why wouldn’t they have found her?”

“I don’t know Tae; I wouldn't get your hopes up about that. Even if she was alive, wouldn’t she have tried to find you by now? Or at the very least, your mom?” Namjoon tried to sympathize.

“What if she can’t?”

Before his brother could answer him, the stone surrounding Taehyung disappeared, and the large wooden doors swung open.

“Okay, you’re clear. He says you can come in.” YN skipped over towards the two of them. “There’s some ground rules though, before you do.”

---

Taehyung had never been one for rules, but technically by following these rules, he was breaking some pretty major ones. So he let it go. The entire situation was odd; not only were there a few hundred people from families just like his, the Academy was willingly training these people against the law. It was badass. If Taehyung had any shot at finding his sister, he could start here.

Yoongi had explained when he was brought in that this needed to be kept under wraps. None of the instructors from Atlas knew about what was happening when the bells rang, and it needed to stay that way. Joon had basically signed his life away to the Min family by agreeing to keep all of this a secret, so Taehyung followed suit. He was distantly related to Yoongi after all; maybe if his life came crashing down around him in the future, this interaction would win him favor and refuge in the Adiyan Empire. That’s where his dad was from, so he had always wanted to visit.

“Hello, Earth to Taehyung.” YN’s hand waving in front of his face snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“There he is.” She snickered before continuing. “Does this all make sense? Do you have any questions?”

“I’ve always got questions,” Taehyung responded with his favorite boxy smile.

“Do you have questions we can answer?” Yoongi sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

“Probably not.” Taehyung shrugged as he drummed his fingers on the desk.

“Okay then, you can come by whenever you want, or never. It doesn’t matter as long as you don’t get caught by professor Rittenhouse.” YN spoke plainly. “I’m on nighttime guard duty for a week at a time, once every month, but I frequent the grounds during the day when I’m off duty if you ever need me.”

“How is that off duty?” Namjoon asked the question Taehyung had been thinking.

“If I see something stupid, I can get someone else to deal with it.” YN chuckled. “I’m more of what you’d call reserve forces.”

“Still have no idea how making rounds during the day is considered off duty, but maybe I'm not understanding something right.” Taehyung joked.

“He’s got a mouth on him, doesn’t he?” YN smirked as she deferred to Yoongi.

“Runs in the family.” Yoongi mentioned nonchalantly.

“What? Is everyone at this table related to each other?” Namjoon smoothed the wrinkles out of his forehead. “You should find a better joke.”

“Nah, I kind of like it.” YN continued, poking at Joon’s arm.

“Of course you do.” Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“All that aside, you’re free to join us on training days.” Yoongi offered. “They rotate through instructors from Adyia, Cordelia, and the Arribellian Alliance. So we get a pretty interesting training regiment.”

“Do you spar with each other?” Taehyung wondered aloud.

“We do, unlike the other classes here, we’re a healthy mix of people from all nations. So we work with what we’ve got.” YN stated proudly. “You may come to find that the style of magic students here use differs greatly from what you see in your field training and exercises, though.”

“Sounds like fun; when can I start?” Taehyung sat up a little straighter in his chair.

“We start in about twenty minutes. This one here was coming early to spar with YN.” Yoongi pointed to Namjoon.

“Before you even ask, YN is part of the Academy’s night watch and Head Mistress Cecilia’s personal retinue. She is plenty skilled in non-magic based combat arts.” Namjoon boasted.

“So she can teach me how to use a sword,” Taehyung asked in excitement.

“I could, but that’s definitely the face of someone who shouldn’t have a sword.” YN laughed out loud as she answered his question.

“But I’ve always wanted to use a sword. If not a sword, what about a lance? Or something stealthy like assassin knives.” Taehyung’s voice grew with his enthusiasm.

“Again, yes, but also no.” YN’s eyes crinkled as she smiled.

“I’m more concerned about your choice in weaponry.” Namjoon sighed, shaking his head.

“Eh, they’re pretty standard choices.” YN shrugged. “I’m just glad he didn’t ask about a broad sword. Those things are heavy, and I’d hate to be the one to break the news to string bean over there.”

“Hey!” Taehyung shot out of his seat. “I’m perfectly capable of lifting a broadsword! I can manipulate metal, too you know.”

“Oho, big man on campus.” YN straightened herself and gestured towards the door. “Let's see what you got then.”

“I’m not getting trained tonight, am I?” Namjoon whispered to nobody in particular.

“Nope.” Yoongi shrugged and followed the pair out into the ground to join the other students. “Should’ve thought of that before you got her all riled up.”

“I didn’t rile anyone up!” Namjoon argued.

“No, but you brought dumb to dumber, so it’s sort of your fault.” Yoongi smiled to himself “Do you wanna train or talk?”

“Train, I want to train!” Namjoon spoke as he ran after Yoongi.

—-

It’s not that Taeyhyung thought they had been lying, just that he didn’t expect the training courses to be so different. He’d been exposed to magic at a young age, and had the privilege of learning from a private instructor for most of his life. Sure he wasn’t the best, but he didn’t expect to be this covered in dirt, let alone panting after one day of new exercises.

“You ready to tap out?” YN asked from across the field.

“Never!” Taehyung smiled, straightening himself and preparing for another round of attacks.

Once the ground started flying his way he threw up a shield, hoping to deflect a majority of debris. The problem Taehyung had always had with the style of magic taught to most earth mage’s was it was way too defense heavy. Sure you could take a beating, but unless you were fighting against another earth mage it was difficult to take an offensive position once you began defending.

“I keep telling you, you’ve got to redirect, not deflect.” YN spoke beside him and Taehyung felt his soul leave his body.

“How did you get that close that fast?” Taehyung asked, bewildered.

“I made a tunnel.” YN shrugged and took a stance in front of him. “Now, stand like this.”

“Isn’t that a water mage stance?” Tae asked.

“Good eye.” YN only paused briefly before continuing. “Water mages have exceptional offensive and defensive capabilities.”

“You’re sure that’s not just because it’s easier to see through water than it is earth?” Taehyung asked.

“That may be a part of it, but not all of it. Watch Nik.” YN pointed at the tall, dark haired male working with the other earth mages. “When you use water magic, it’s about fluidity. Part of that is being able to take the momentum of your assailant’s attack and use it against them. Taehyung watched carefully as YN mimicked Nik’s movements, it was almost as if they were dancing. Not shy he joined in, carefully matching YN step for step.

“That’s good, just like that.” YN encouraged. “Watch your hands though, they look like limp noodles and that’s not gonna redirect anything.”

“You don’t know that.” Taehyung stood up, placing his hands on his hips.

“I do, but if you don’t believe me we can have you try for yourself.” YN smiled and took a few steps back.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re the reason they tell people who smile like I did earlier that they can’t have swords.” Taehyung snickered as he took the new stance.

“Perceptive.”

Taehyung didn’t have time to respond before YN started with another round of projectiles. Her control over the earth was astoundingly good, so he had been surprised when YN had mentioned she wasn’t very good with metal based magics. He’d never met someone who could move the earth that efficiently who couldn't at least utilize metal magic. Something was very weird about YN, but he couldn't put his finger on it, not that she left him much time to think about it now.

The first few flying rocks were deflected, mostly out of habit, until Taehyung remembered what the point of this exercise was. Redirect. Switching his feet he moved into an unfamiliar position and did his best to remember the new movements.

It was messy at first, and the few stones that made it through stung as they bit into his uncovered arms. Eventually though, one of them moved right. Sort of, the projectile spun around Taeyhung like it was caught in some sort of orbit, before careening off to the side in the opposite direction of his target.

“You need to relax! Use your momentum!” YN called as she sent another round of rocks.

Taehyung took a deep breath and let the tension in his shoulders leave with the exhale. When he opened his eyes the projectile YN sent was nearly there. He was sure it wasn’t graceful looking, but despite the awkwardness of his movements, when his hand made contact with the earth he spun it around and launched it back in her direction. Even though YN caught it without hesitation, Taehyung couldn’t help the elation that bubbled up and out of him.

“Yes! That was it, wasn't it?!”

“It was,” YN smiled at him proudly and gave him a thumbs up.

“Again, let’s do it again!” Tae took his stance matching YN.

The longer the exercise went on the larger the flying rocks got. Taehyung was enjoying the challenge YN provided, and when he knocked her down he whooped.

“Nice shot!” YN laughed as she rolled onto her stomach. “You’re fast.”

“Of course I am.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows at her and gave her a boxy smile.

“You two are having too much fun.” Namjoon commented as he and Yoongi walked over.

“No such thing.” YN smiled up at Joon as he offered her a hand.

Taehyung watched the pair, the tiniest pangs of jealousy bouncing around in his ribcage. That made no sense though, he’d only just met this girl, why would he be upset?

“YN!” Taehyung called to get her attention. “Can I help you with your metal magic?”

She blinked at him in disbelief, “You can try.” She answered.

“I like a good challenge.” Taehyung expressed as he jogged over to join the other three.

“You may be in over your head.” Yoongi grimaced.

“You don’t have any earth mages here right?” Taehyung asked, knowing the answer. “Maybe I can help fill the gap?”

#tephra 03 #BTS au #bts fantasy au #bts reader insert #bts taehyung #bts yoongi #bts namjoon

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

Mindful Confrontation

Written as a request from @heavy-metal-papillon who not only supplied the requested plot but creatively reconstructed the song Confrontation from Jeckyll and Hyde to fit the context of the story. This was a lot of fun to write, thank you for requesting it! I hope it fits what you had in mind.

Summary: Thomas' friends convince him to check out a new karaoke bar and encourage him to perform. Technical difficulties make improv imperative for the show to go on but can singing really settle the warring landscape?

Warnings: anxiety induced spiraling thoughts, if there are more please let me know

Ships: none

WC: 2, 389

The bar is loud as Thomas makes his way to an empty booth lead expertly by Joan and Talyn. Nerves twisted in his gut as he took in how large it actually was on the inside, the stage set up for karaoke sitting front and center with the tables placed strategically so no ones view would be blocked. He took a deep breath as he settled himself on the cushioned bench, reminding himself that he needed this.

It had been Joan's idea initially, taking him to a karaoke bar to loosen up after the stress they'd both been under lately. Supposedly they served good food and the regular performers were worth the watch.

"Sing if you want." Joan had said. "Everyones really nice and would love to hear someone new onstage."

Thomas glanced at them now, happily skimming through the menu and pointing things out to Talyn who nodded along as best they could over the noise. It seemed like the performing wouldnt be starting for a while yet...which reminded him...

"I'm gonna go sign up, be back in a minute." Joan looked up and smiled, they and their date mate giving enthusiastic thumbs up. Turning with a grin, Thomas straightened his shirt and made his way over to the side stage where a small line had already started forming.

-------

In the mindscape, Janus sat on the couch a little ways away from a pouting Roman, watching Virgil fidget endlessly with the sleeves of his hoodie and wear a literal hole in the floor with his pacing. Being in someone's head was an odd thing at times.

"You can't possibly expect us to do this! Theres so many people we dont know hear!"

"Wouldn't that be beneficial to us? There's a good chance this is the first and last time wed see any of them." Janus replied smoothly.

Ignoring him, Virgil continued on. "What if Thomas's voice cracks? What if the song glitches and he's left singing with no music and then it picks up and it'll be out of sync and he freezes because it's confusing and everyone laughs? What if we don't know the lyrics as well as we thought we did and the screen cuts out and we forget the song and everyone laughs? What if we try to move around and trip because the stage is unfamiliar and we fall off and break our neck and the last thing we ever did was sing a shitty song at a shitty bar and-"

"Everyone laughs?" Janus finished dryly.

"Why would someone laugh at our death? What are you trying to say you vile vindictive villain?!" Roman leapt from the couch making Virgil flinch as a samurai sword appeared in his hand to point at the deceitful side.

"Vindictive? The only revenge I'm seeking today is on whoever decided the shirt Thomas is wearing should be seen in public after having worn it two days in a row already."

"We were in a hurry and he barely wore it in those two days since he spent most of them sleeping! It's fine!"

"We already wore the shirt?! What if people can tell it hasn't been washed? What if someone sees the wrinkles and decides we're an unclean slob? What if-"

"Virgil! Breathe please." At the reminder Virgil began his standard breathing exercise as Janus poked the tip of the sword still pointing at his face and lowered it to a non threatening level. "And Roman, do keep waving around a dangerous weapon it totally isn't making Virgil's anxiety worse."

Grumbling Roman snapped the sword back out of existence and plopped back down on the couch. Sighing Janus tuned back into what Thomas was doing just as he was looking through the song list. A song leapt out at him almost immediately, making Janus send the suggestion quietly to their manifestor for consideration, smiling as it was chosen and they began walking back towards the booth.

"I believe you'll like the choice in song Roman. Perhaps you can vent a bit."

Raising an eyebrow Roman quickly concentrated to bring himself up to speed on what had transpired while he was sulking.

"A little on the nose isn't it?" Virgil paused his pacing at Roman's snide remark, tilting his head in question.

"Jeckyll and Hyde's Confrontation?" That's technically a duet right? How the hell is that going to work?"

"I'm sure Roman can manage. Unless he wants one of us to help?" Janus peered out from under the rim of his hat at the side on question who was currently scowling over at him.

"Why don't you both help sing it? That way you can both work out whatever it is you need to. Roman's good on stage and Janus...you know the musical right? Oh God you do know it right because if you just picked it at random-"

"Relax Fidget and Hide it'll be fine." Roman scowl turned smug at the word play that Virgil didn't bother responding to, instead shooting Janus a final panicked glanced before going back to...well...fidgeting.

------

Thomas fidgeted in the booth nervously, making Talyn glance over in worry.

"You okay? It's a pretty big crowd, you can still back out if it makes you nervous."

Thomas felt a sliver of false reassurance curl around his tongue, opening his mouth almost against his will as he smiled convincingly.

"I'm fine really. It is a big crowd, but I feel like this will be good for me you know?"

"Yeah man, you really need to get out more." Joan flashed him a smile that let Thomas know he was mostly kidding, which he appreciated. Breathing deep he reminded himself to thank Janus later. A fleeting feeling of gratitude that wasn't his own welled in his chest and he smiled to himself. Message recieved apparently.

The performers were great, some obvious regulars and some anxious newbies but the mix didn't dampen his enjoyment in the slightest. As the music swelled around him he felt himself relaxing, grinning as someone started in on an Evenescence song that he knew would appeal to his youngest side. He could imagine the emo sitting in all his glory wherever they went when not manifested in front of him. As they got further down the list however his nerves began to fray. Any moment now his name would be called and he'd have to go onstage in front of so many new faces and he'd done it before but that had been performances and this was a bar and-

"Thomas." He whipped his head around to see Joan pointing at the stage. "They called your name! Break a leg!"

Smiling nervously, he stood and quickly made his way to the stage, wiping sweaty palms on his already sweaty jeans to a smattering of applause as the audience realized the person who was called was about to go on.

Just imagine them naked. Impatiently he shook the Intrusive thought away and zeroed in on the blank screen. A tech worker jogged up to him and his heart dropped. Surely not-

"I apologize but we've been having problems with the screen lately and it stopped working for the night. You're welcome to use your phone or forfeit if you'd be uncomfortable."

A sudden surge of confidence had words spilling of their own accord, barely there panic twisting his stomach. "It's okay. I can handle it."

The music began low and he drew in a steadying breath, opening his mouth where he knew the lyrics started.

------

"The screen died? What kind of hellscape is this?! I told you, I said what if the screen dies though I guess it didnt happen while we were singing but still! Do you even know the lyrics?" Roman shrugged where he stood in front of the couch, unfazed by circumstance.

"We'll figure it out Nightmare on Emo Street, calm down."

"Figure it-what do you mean you'll figure it out?"

The music started and Roman simply took a stance and began to sing, the sorrowful tone matched by his deep base vibrating the mind scape pleasantly.

"It’s over now, from what I know.

This world’s not what it seems.

It hurts that he would stoop so low.

A fatal blow for one poor dashing Prince."

Janus raised an eyebrow as he sat up straighter. Improv. Impressive. Beside him, Virgil groaned and hid his face, seemingly content to wait out whatever horror he percieved this to be.

"They do not see my tragedy,

Do not see my intent.

The stain of this snake’s evil

Would forever kill the good we all had meant."

Janus narrowed his eyes as Roman turned to him fully, the intent and purpose of the lyrics clear to him now as the Prince lamented on.

"Am I a good man?

Am I a bad man?

Eternal question. But will the answer ever…?"

The last note lingered as Janus stood. Fine, he thought. If this is how he wants to play it, I'll give him something to kick at.

"Do you really think

That I would ever let this go?

Do you think without me he’ll be free?"

He smirked knowingly as Roman stepped back, twisting Hyde's words into something closer to himself to throw back.

"If you do, I’m sad to say

It simply isn’t so.

You will never block his life from me!"

Roman glared and stood straighter, sweeping his arm as if to banish the other from his sight.

"All that he needs is to look in a mirror.

Good, honest life – and you’ll disappear!"

"I was the one who did give him that mirror,

So, I’m afraid, I will still be here."

"All that you’ll do is make our life a nightmare,

All you’ll achieve is high self-esteem!

All that I wanted for him – to chase his dream!"

Janus grimaced as he caught sight of angry tears gathering in Roman's eyes. Hardening his resolve, he clenched his fists to glare right back, refusing to back down from what this simple karaoke had become.

"Will you ever catch it, friend?

This chase will never end!

His procrastination still goes on!

So, I want to stay,

No matter how you may object!

I can give him power to move on."

His tone begged to be listened to, pleading eyes catching the royals in an effort to make him understand. He took a step back as a sword was once again pressed alarmingly close to his face.

"Soon you’ll slip up and deceive us all over!

We can’t allow you to have control!"

"Roman, hold on, move your train of thought slower,

For all I know, we’re all parts of his soul."

"He doesn’t need you to live, like he needs me,

He can be whole with no selfish snake!

Getting rid of you will be a piece of cake!"

His staff materialized in his hand as he brought it sweeping down to catch the blade safely in its crook, slamming the tip down into the floor as he delivered the next verse.

"I’ll stay among you forever!"

"No!" Roman desperately tugged at his weapon, gritting his teeth as it refused to budge.

With a sweep of his arm the sword was free from the floor, twisting in the air before crashing beside the couch, staff now jabbed painfully close to Roman's face. "Keep in mind that I earned my seat."

"No!" Roman lunged, but Janus hooked his arm and dragged him to the side with minimal effort.

"And I’ll make it my new endeavor

To guide him and prove to you all that

I’m more than Deceit!" Stalking forward, the staff's crook was jammed under Roman's chin as he stared down at him backed into a wall, eyes wide but devoid of fear as he seemed to consider the words before shaking them off.

"Will you stop? It’s

Over now! It’s time to go!"

Roman grabbed the staff and yanked it sideways, making Janus lose his grip and stumble to come face to face with his adversary.

Smirking he bowed low. "Oh no, no, after you!"

"If I go you'll go too!"

"I’ll just shapeshift and I’ll be you."

"No! Deciet, leave him be!"

"Can’t you see? He needs me!"

"No! Stop this fight!"

"I'm his side! I won't hide!"

"No never!"

"Yes forever!"

"Give up, you snake! Crawl back to whatever hole you came from!" Roman shoved forward and practically snarled out his last line, towering over a fallen Janus.

"You’ll get there too, Roman." Hat swept somewhere unknown he simply stared at the other, chests heaving in sync as the anger finally eased, if only by a fraction.

A chuckle bubbled up in his chest, starting Roman who took a second to consider him before a grin split his face as well. The tension snapped as laughter filled the space between them, Roman doubling over as tears dripped down his face.

"What the hell did we just do?"

Janus cackled and shook his head. "Created a masterpiece that's going to raise questions I'm sure."

"Hey you morons, you do realize you had Thomas sing that right? You're weird venty improv was just projected to an entire bar!" They both looked up at Virgils outburst to see the side in question shaking on the couch, beside him a grinning Remus shoveling (popcorn?) into his mouth. Patton stood beside them starry eyed and smiling while Logan remained at the table with a questioning look that seemed to suggest he had missed most of the context for the scene in front of him. Janus and Roman spared eachother another look before bursting into another fit of laughter.

------

"Sooo....didn't know the song huh?" Joan asked curiously as Thomas sat down. At his head shake, they simply grinned. "The improv was seriously impressive though. Janus and Roman? Genius!"

Thomas grinned sheepishly as his nerves finally settled, his smile wavering as another set of emotions came forth he didn't recognize.

"Hey, you okay?"

A feeling of peace settled over him like a blanket of fresh snow, crisp and clean as his mind cleared for what felt like the first time in weeks. A genuine smile stretched across his face as he answered.

"Yeah. Yeah, you know what? I'm great actually." He sat back and relaxed, looking at Talyn and Joan in turn.

"I feel better."

This work along with other one shots is available on AO3!

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ao3 #thomas sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #jeckyll and hyde

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cluz1babe · 4 years

Text

*** Strong Tongue and Slender Fingers ***Episode 1 Chapter 3: *** A Hidden Power ***

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2

Summary: You share some flashes of your past with one of the boys.

Notes: I'm sorry it took so long. There has been marriage, illnesses, and death in my family the past month.

I have been trying the story format. I hope it is good. If not, I will go back to "script" format. (I know it's not proper script.)

With the exception of characters who are "dead" on the show, it's as canon as possible (I try to fact-check as much as possible). Taking place after season 14 (up to a few years after). I wrote it kind of like a script because that's just how I am. Reading this version, you will miss some information, but check my "Works" for the others. I also have alt scenes ready to go when the series gets to that point.

Inside the motel room, Castiel walked around the bed you were lying on, carrying a mirror. Sam and Dean talked near the sink. Sam sighed. “She could just be immune to that stuff. For all we know, she’s human.” “Maybe.” Castiel appeared next to Dean. “We don’t need to worry. I’m not detecting anything unusual, other than the voices.” Sam went to the table, now displaying various items from your bag. “So, she’s really hearing voices.” “It’s more troublesome than that, and I made it worse.” “How?” “When I touched her earlier-” Castiel was cut short by Dean. “You mean when you attacked her?” “I didn’t attack her.” Sam shifted. “You kinda did.” “Anyway, she understood Enochian.” “Is that how she picks up the languages?” “I don’t think so. However, I may have unintentionally given her access to Angel Radio. There’s something unusual under it all. She’s not only hearing Angel Radio. She’s hearing a few languages that I don’t recognize.” You stirred on the bed. Glancing at you for a moment, Castiel changed his tune. “We should figure out what’s going on with her.”

“We came here to deal with weird crap happening at some old park, not to decode crazy chick radio.” You groaned and pushed yourself up. “Hey,” Sam walked over and sat down on the opposite bed. “Are you okay?” “I’m great.” Dean grabbed a glass of water and brought it to you. “There are still a few details we need before we can help you.” You took a drink of the water. “Did you call any of them?” “Yeah. I’m sorry about all of that.” Sam motion to Castiel. “It’s just… We’re very protective of our people.” “Understandable.” You grinned at him, weakly. Dean crossed his arms. “Are you an angel?” For a moment, you were puzzled but abruptly started laughing. Everyone else in the room just stared at you. “What’s so funny?” “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever been asked.” Sam frowned. “Why?” “Come on, angels aren’t real.” Dean and Sam looked at Castiel, then Sam turned back to you. “You believe that?” You leaned back. “Of course. I mean, none of that God or Angel crap is real. If it were, I’m sure at least one of them would’ve listened to me at some point.” “What do you believe in?” “Demons, gods, various monsters, spirits, elementals… But the God? Angels? No.” Sam lifted his head to Dean. You followed his gaze. “What?” Dean nodded to Castiel. “There’s one standing right over there.” “One what?” Sam rose and walked over to your things, now displayed on the table. “Angel,” Dean said. You looked at Castiel and scoffed. He looked offended. “Yeah, okay.” You took another sip as Sam picked up a vial of clear fluid sitting on the table. Castiel grabbed a book and flipped through it. “Cass?” Dean tried to talk him into showing off. “No.” Castiel leaned back, trying to appear uninterested. “Come on, man. No epic wings or glowing eyes?” “Technically, I’m no longer affiliated. Remember?” Castiel sighed, “She won’t believe anything she sees or hears right now, anyway.” “I guess we don’t have a way to prove he’s really an angel.” Castiel rolled his eyes, tossed the book he was peeking through on the table, and spun toward you. Disgruntled, he walked to the bed and stood next to you. He reached out his hand. You flinched, so he changed his tone, slightly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He bent his knees and sank next to the bed. “My name is Castiel. I’m an angel.” “Castiel?” “Yes.” “I see.” You studied him. “The angel Castiel?” Cass nodded. “Uh-huh. As in Wings of Desire?” You teased. “What is that?” “Is that a porn?” Dean’s grin was unmistakable. “What have you been up to, Cass?” “It’s a depressing movie about bored angels who are obsessed with humans. They sulk around in trench-coats, being creepy, and wishing they were mortal. But you got the name wrong.” “Excuse me?” Castiel was vexed. “His name is Cassiel.” He stood up, looking like he was about to pull out his hair. “We need answers. Now.” “You want to know what I know about myself?” “That’d be nice.” Dean included. After trying to avoid the interaction, you finally decided that divulging this particular secret wasn’t dangerous. “I need saltwater and someone to connect with. One of you.” “For what?” Sam inquired. “Telling you will be more difficult than showing you.” Dean smirked, “Lucky for you, we always carry salt.” “No. I need natural saltwater.” You pointed to the vial of fluid in Sam’s hand. “I need that.” Sam passed you the vial. Castiel was about to sit on the bed, but you stopped him, turning your face toward your knees. “Not you.” He tried to give you an apologetic smile and stood. Dean stepped forward. “Alright. I guess I’ll volunteer.” He sat on the bed in front of you and smiled flirtatiously. “Hi.” You glared at him for a second but still winked. You opened the vial and put some water on your hands. “What is this, like dream walking?” “Absolutely not.” You realized your chest still had a puncture wound and wiped it with the water. It healed, which surprised everyone else. You drank the remaining liquid. “If you see them… Just pretend that you don’t.” “Who?” You grabbed his hands and held on tight.

There was a sudden swirl of images being shared between them: Someone running through a swamp. Demons being exercised. Puppies. Vampires. The Mark. You looking in a mirror. Dean meeting Castiel. Before either of them realized it, they were being forced out of the trance. Out of instinct to defend yourself, you grabbed on to the hand touching your shoulder. As if a jolt of electricity hit, you jumped off of the bed. “Shit!” Dean fell to the floor. In a daze, he laughed, “You gotta be kiddin’ me.” You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your back against the wall. When you opened your eyes, Castiel was standing right in front of you. You reached out and sort of poked him with your fingers. He leaned back when your fingers made contact due to the little bit of force you put behind your hand. “Fuck. So… So you’re real, and you really are a—” You wobbled to the side. Cass tried to steady you, but you avoided him, swatting his hand away. “Stop. I know why they don’t want me interacting with you.” Sam stood over his brother. “Dean?” He smiled up at him. “That’s one of the weirdest things I’ve ever done.” Sam’s head whipped around. “What did you do to him?” “That can happen sometimes. He’ll be better in an hour. Maybe.” You turned your attention back to Cass. “Why would you do that?” “You were both out of it for nearly two hours.” Dean sat up. “Really? It seemed like we barely started.” There was a hint of slurring in his speech. “It works like sleeping patterns on some people. Only instead of having a dream that seems like hours when it was only five minutes, it can seem like only five seconds over a long period of actual time.” Dean dragged himself onto one of the beds and lied down. Sam looked miffed. “I thought you said it would be easier.” “It usually is. I’m not exactly an expert on any of my abilities!” Your hands started shaking. You made your way to your bag and took some money out of a hidden pouch. Dean began snoring. “Maybe he was just tired.” Looking at your cash, you sighed. “Is there a soda machine somewhere?” “This place doesn’t even have an ice machine, but it’s just a few hours until morning.” You sat down and cupped your forehead. “Great.” “What’s wrong with you?” “Lately, if I use my powers, I sort of crash.” Castiel looked out of the window. “I think there was a diner a few blocks away.” Sam shrugged. “You like pancakes?” Dean suddenly stopped snoring and sleepily looked up. “Pancakes?”

EXTRAS:

PLAYLIST (music for this episode)

Please Buy Me a Beer!

Tip Me on Ko-Fi

AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Klee PG Version ~ (Currently only on AO3)

*** Strong Tongue and Slender Fingers *** (Here and AO3)

KLEE (Original Version) (Currently only on AO3)

Alt KLEE Smut (Currently only on AO3)

*** Alt Strong Tongue and Slender Fingers Smut Scenes *** (Currently only on AO3)

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atths--twice · 4 years

Link

Okay... here is the chapter that, from the moment I decided to write this novel length story, was a key part to it, in my personal opinion. I absolutely adore Rachel and I had this idea in my head for MONTHS before I had the idea for even the most angsty or funny chapters within this story. Rachel is like a bit of me within a character I created. She is a person I wish I had the balls to be at times and I adore her so much. I seriously think about her way more often than I probably should, but I just love her so much.

I hope you like her as much as I do. I truly hope you do.

Chapter Eighteen

Rachel’s Story

Mulder asks Rachel to join him and Mrs. Scully for a thank you dinner, as his therapy has come to an end. Uneasy at first, she agrees and they learn of her past and how it shaped the person she has become.

December 2015

Christmas decorations had been up since the week before Thanksgiving, and all Mulder could think was that an entire year had passed. A year in which he had not spoken to Scully, not vocally anyway. He wrote her many emails, and she sent him messages, but God, how he missed the sound of her voice.

His therapy sessions were coming to an end and he felt bittersweet about it. He was glad to be done. The times he spent with his emotions out and exposed had been hard. Although, he also had fun. Discussing the past and fun times he and Scully shared, along with the pain they both suffered, was equal parts wonderful and terrifying.

Rachel was the perfect blend of comfort and toughness he needed. She kept him on track, let him ramble, and then opened his eyes to ways he could change. She pushed him to delve further into past hurts and mistakes and how to learn from them. When he clammed up or tried to use humor and sarcasm to answer questions, she shut that shit down.

As the last day approached, he realized she had been right at their first meeting: she was pretty great. He would miss her when he was done, he truly would.

She smiled as he walked into the office and took a seat. Asking if he would like a coffee, she walked to the coffee maker and prepared a mug for each of them. Handing him his, she sat down and picked up her notepad.

“So, it’s our last meeting today. I have to say that I have enjoyed our time together, and I am proud of the progress you have made,” Rachel said with a smile. “I know that it was difficult at times, and you may have wanted to quit, but you stuck with it, and you’ve done really well.”

Mulder nodded and then looked at her and grinned. “Thank you. You’re right, there were times when I wanted to leave, but I knew there were two women counting on me, and I couldn’t let them down,” he said, nodding his head. He raised a hand when he saw her face. “I know. You’ll say it was work I needed to do for me, and you’re right, it was for me. But Doc, it was mostly for the two women in my life whom I’ve let down.” He looked at her, sighed and smiled.

She stared at him and then nodded. Looking down at her notepad and papers, she took out his questionnaire and took a minute to look at it. Moving some of them around, she put one on top.

“I’d like to discuss one last thing with you,” she said, circling something on the paper.

“I’m ready, Doc. Lay it on me,” Mulder said, motioning with hands for her to bring it on.

She smiled at him and then clasped her hands together. “As we are coming to the end of our sessions together, I’d like to know what you’re going to do next?” she asked him, staring at him.

“Next? In the sense of what?” he asked with a frown.

“Yes, next. I don’t mean after you leave here, or tomorrow, but in regard to Scully and how you plan to approach getting her back. What are you doing next, Fox?” Rachel asked softly.

He stared at her, not sure how to answer. During all these months, he had the idea of getting back to them, but now he realized he did not have a plan as to how.

“I ... I honestly don’t know,” he said, looking down at the floor. “I don’t remember answering that question back in March.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she said with a smile. “I couldn’t expect an answer to an ending of something that hadn’t even started yet. So I ask you now, so we can discuss it together.”

He took a drink of his coffee, and put it on the coffee table. Sitting back, he picked up a pillow and held it in his lap. He thought about how best to show Scully he had changed, the darkness no longer swallowing him.

“I think,” he said, looking down at the pillow in his lap. “I think the best thing to do at this point, would be to be on my own.” He looked up to find Rachel staring at him, her eyebrows going up, but saying nothing.

“I don’t mean because I want to be on my own, but I need to be,” he said, looking back at her. “I need to see how I do once I’m done coming here every week. It will be strange at first, but I need to figure that out before I consider how to approach her.”

Rachel nodded and smiled at him. “I think that’s a good plan. What will you do to get yourself on track? Any thoughts on that?”

“I’m going to start exercising again. I actually bought a home gym type thing,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never really used one before, but I know it will be beneficial. I’m also running and going to the community center again to play basketball with some guys.”

“That’s great. That will help with more than just the physical aspect, getting in shape, and all that. Endorphins can help with depression,” Rachel said, giving him a pointed look. He nodded and smiled.

They chatted comfortably for the rest of the hour and soon it was time to leave. He put the pillow on the couch as he stood up and brought his coffee mug to the sink she had in the corner. He turned to her, and she was standing close to the door. He walked toward her and stopped, smiling at her.

“Well, this is it,” she said as she smiled at him.

“Actually,” he said, suddenly nervous, as he cleared his throat and clenched his jaw. “I was wondering ... I’d like to have you over for dinner on Sunday if you’re free. To thank you and also, it’s Christmas. Get two birds and all that.” He smiled nervously as he watched her clasp and unclasp her hands.

“Uh ... I appreciate the offer, but it’s not exactly ... as a therapist, your therapist ... it wouldn’t be ethical or what I should be doing. It’s ... it’s not ... I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do that, Fox,” she said, her eyes moving quickly across his face.

“Oh.”

“It’s not … don’t misunderstand ... it’s just ...”

“No, I understand.”

“I would love to ... if ...”

“Please, it’s okay.”

They fell silent after speaking over each other, her eyes unable to meet his for a few seconds. He cleared his throat, and she finally looked up.

“I didn’t think,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry to have put you on the spot and in an awkward position. It’s okay.” He smiled at her, touched her shoulder briefly. and stepped past her to the door. She followed him out of the office and stopped as he put on his coat.

“Fox,” she started, but he interrupted her.

“It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry to have ... I’m sorry,” he put on his scarf and looked at her. “I just ... you won’t technically be my therapist after today. And … I wanted to say more than goodbye, and thank you. It wouldn’t be just you there, if that helps. I wanted to have you and Mrs. Scully come over for dinner. You ... the both of you ... I just ... I just wanted to thank you both. I don’t really know what I would have done without either of you. But, I get it, I do. It’s not ...”

“I’ll be there,” she interrupted, with tears in her eyes.

“You don’t ... seriously it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, I will. I just ... could it not be at your house? Maybe a restaurant instead?” she asked, wiping at her eyes.

“How about at Mrs. Scully’s place? It’s a bit of a drive, but not too bad,” he said hopefully. She nodded, and he grinned with a nod. “Great. Good. Okay, so Sunday at five? Or six?”

“Six is good.”

“Okay. I’ll ... I’ll email you the directions to her place,” he stared at her and smiled happily. “Thank you, Rachel.”

She nodded and walked him to the door. He waved to her as he got in the car and drove away. If he had stayed for only one minute longer, he would have seen her cover her face and cry.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Mulder opened the door on Sunday evening to find Rachel on the other side. She was holding a bottle of wine, and she looked a bit nervous.

“Rachel! It’s great to see you! Come in, it’s freezing out there!” he stepped aside to let her come in, and she walked past him as he closed the door.

Mrs. Scully walked into the room at the same moment, and he turned to her with a grin. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to Rachel, and introduced them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mrs. Scully said with a smile, as she held Rachel’s hand in both of hers. “I have heard a lot about you from Fox.”

“And I you,” Rachel said, smiling back at her as she looked between them.

“Here, I’ll take that wine. You hang your coat and take a seat. Dinner will be ready soon,” he said, taking the wine from her and heading back to the kitchen.

“You sure you don’t need any help?” Mrs. Scully asked as he walked away.

“Pfft. I got this,” he said, turning around and opening his hands wide to her. “Have some faith, lady.” He heard them both laughing as he stepped into the kitchen.

He set the wine down on the counter and reached for the opener. Pouring them each a glass, he took the women theirs and found them on the sofa talking. He handed them their wine and they thanked him as he walked back to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine.

He told Mrs. Scully he wanted to have them both to dinner but that Rachel had been uncomfortable. Without asking, she offered her place, and he smiled. He told her he would make the meal and she would not need to worry about anything. She seemed skeptical, her eyebrow going up the same way Scully’s did, and he laughed.

True to his word, he purchased, and then made everything himself. It was going to be a simple meal, but also one he considered carefully. He emailed the directions to the house to Rachel and also asked if she was a vegetarian or had any dietary needs. She emailed back that she was most definitely not a vegetarian, and to please be sure there was something mouthwatering to go with any vegetables. He laughed and set about finding something that would fit that request.

He took down everything on the fridge door, saving Mrs. Scully’s note in a desk drawer, and put up recipes instead. Staring at them for a day, he settled on a roast, potatoes, and carrots. He went to the butcher and got the best advice on how to cook it, and then took all his purchased items to Mrs. Scully’s house. He demanded she get out of the kitchen, despite her willingness to help.

Now, looking at the meal in the oven, it indeed smelled mouthwatering. He could not wait to taste his first attempt at such a meal. A lot was riding on this thank you meal and he was very nervous with the outcome.

He put the salad he made into three fancy salad bowls and set them aside. Five more minutes, and he would take the roast out and let it rest. Turning to the right, he looked at the pink bakery box on the counter. The dessert was the only item he had purchased and not made himself. Although he had attempted to do it, the outcome was not edible.

He would not let Mrs. Scully see what he had bought, and he was excited for her to see he picked her favorite dessert. Rachel’s special thanks was the meal. Mrs. Scully’s would be the dessert.

He looked out of the kitchen and found them laughing about something and he smiled, knowing they would get along. The timer pinged a couple minutes later, and he took the roast from the oven. Setting it on the cooling rack, he took the lid off and took a deep breath. Damn, it looked delicious. Covering it with some foil, he set the timer for twenty minutes and took the salads to the table along with his glass of wine.

“Ladies, if you’re ready, the first course of dinner is ready,” he said with a flourish, and they laughed.

“First course, Fox? My, my,” Mrs. Scully teased, as she and Rachel walked to the table, their drinks in hand. He grinned and waited for them to sit before seating himself.

He set the table with the fancy silverware Mrs. Scully suggested, poured water in each of the glasses she handed him, put out the napkins she pointed to, and lit the candles she mentioned she had in a drawer. It was quite a presentation, and he felt pride at the work they had done together.

“Ladies, a toast,” he said, raising his wine glass. “To both of you. I thank you both immensely.” He looked them in the eye before they all clinked their glasses together. He saw both of them wipe at their eyes, and he nodded.

The salad was praised and eaten before he got up to cut the roast and fill their plates. He brought their food out and then went back for his own plate, grabbing the bottle of wine as well. Both women exclaimed that it was cooked to perfection and tasted delicious. He raised his arms in the air in victory, and they all laughed.

Clearing the plates a bit later, he asked if they wanted dessert, but both refused for now. He nodded and continued to the kitchen to cover the food and make some tea, at Mrs. Scully’s request. Three cups made, he set them on a tray with a saucer. Adding some spoons, sugar, milk, and honey, he brought it to the living room and handed out the cups. They each made their tea how they wanted, and sat quietly for a couple minutes.

“So, Rachel,” Mrs. Scully said with a smile. “Did you always want to be a therapist?”

Rachel laughed softly and shook her head. “No. No, in fact, far from it. I never would have imagined that this would be what I did for a living when I was younger,” she said looking down at her cup in her lap.

“Well, speaking from experience, I can say whatever the other plan was, it was wrong for you. You are a great therapist,” Mulder said looking at her. She looked at him and gave him a small smile.

“So what was the plan? What did your younger self want to do?” Mrs. Scully asked.

Rachel sighed and dropped her head again. “I … uh ... I wanted to be a ballerina,” she said softly. Mulder laughed before he could stop himself and was admonished by Mrs. Scully. Rachel looked up and smiled. “No, it’s completely understandable to laugh at that. I am not the type of person they would want as a ballerina.”

“Oh! No, that’s not why I laughed. I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea,” Mulder said apologetically. “I’ve just never met someone who wanted to be an actual ballerina. I don’t mean you in particular for any reason. Please don’t think that’s what I meant.” She looked at him and smiled, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s okay. I was not the type of person who could be a ballerina, but I wanted it so badly. I begged my mom for lessons. The words plié and jeté made my heart fairly dance on its own,” Rachel said with a smile. “When I was five, she finally relented, and I took my first lesson. I was a head taller and at least twenty fucking pounds heavier than the other girls. Sorry.” She looked at Mrs. Scully with startled eyes, but she waved her concern away.

“Well, I wasn’t terrible at it, but I was bigger and sometimes clumsier. I worked hard at it, and I got better, but I was still bigger. I adhered to a strict diet, and I was in good shape, but ...” she paused for a minute. “My father passed away when I was seventeen and that same year, I was accepted to a ballet academy for three months. It was far from home, but I knew I needed to do it. My father always encouraged my dancing, and I wanted to do it for him. I was still grieving, far from home, and also with a group of girls who were much better than me. Thinner, better dancers, and I associated it with being skinny. I ... I started not eating. I lost twenty pounds during that time and it ... it was bad. I didn’t know how bad it was until I passed out and hit my head as I did.”

Mrs. Scully gasped, and Mulder felt his stomach ache at the thought of her suffering the way she did. She nodded, keeping her head down and her eyes on her cup.

“I … I was able to talk my way out of it, and no one questioned me. As long as I kept fucking dancing. Sorry,” she said again, looking up at Mrs. Scully. She shook her head, her hand at her chest, eyes on Rachel. “I fell twice more and the last time … I lost consciousness and woke up in the hospital and I had no idea how I got there. I had stitches on the back of my head and they had to shave my hair to get to the cut.”

Mrs. Scully was quietly crying, and Mulder was staring at Rachel, unable to believe the story. She licked her lips and sniffled, before wiping at her eyes, and taking a deep breath.

“My mother came in and I could see by her face how horrible I looked. She didn’t say anything, just cried as she stood there. She stroked my hair, and we both started to cry. I was five feet, ten inches tall and I weighed a hundred pounds,” she said with a sob.

Mrs. Scully cried harder, and Mulder cleared his throat. He got up and brought both of them some tissues. They thanked him, and he sat back down. A few minutes passed, and Rachel cleared her throat.

“My mother was insistent that I stop dancing, saying it was slowly killing me. I was angry, but her face was enough to stop me. We’d lost my father, I couldn’t do that to her. She said I needed rehab, for my eating disorder, and I argued with her that I didn’t have a disorder. We sat in silence before she gathered her things and said either I go willingly, and she would visit any chance she could, or she would force me to go, and she would not come to see me,” she wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath. “I chose the former, and she sat back down.” The room was quiet, except for an occasional sniff from all of them.

“It was slow going at the rehab center. There were girls there for different reasons, and some were very angry. We had group sessions and one-on-one sessions. One girl in our group session was hard, angry and didn’t give a fuck about anything. Sorry,” she said, shaking her head and looking at Mrs. Scully again.

“It’s not a fucking problem,” she said quietly, with a wave of her hand, as she wiped her eyes.

“MRS. SCULLY!” Mulder said, his surprise and shock at her language causing them all to laugh. He huffed out a breath and shook his head. “Please continue, Rachel.” He said, looking at Mrs. Scully, as she winked at him with wet eyes.

“Well,” Rachel said, laughing softly and also dabbing at her eyes. “The girl who was in group was a tough nut to crack. The therapist there, her name was Ty, was the coolest. I’ve never seen anyone like her. Nose rings and almost every time I saw her, her hair was a different color. She dressed like she just rolled out of bed and threw on whatever was closest to her when she did. She never took, nor gave any shit, she was tough and yet gentle. She just got it. One day, the girl in group, Lonnie, pushed her, physically pushed her. We all froze, and Ty just stood there. She let her push her, let her hit her and it was like we were in bizarro world. Ty didn’t normally allow that kind of thing to happen. Lonnie yelled and yelled, and Ty let her. We were all crying and then so was Lonnie. She fell into Ty, and Ty held her tightly, whispering to her. She looked at all of us, and we all got up to hug her too. Standing there, with all those other girls who were suffering in their own way, our arms around each other and seeing the results of care and help, I knew I wanted to do that, to be a therapist, and one day help others.” She stopped talking, her head down, and all Mulder could do was stare at her.

Mrs. Scully got up and went over to her. She pulled Rachel to her feet and into a hug. She whispered things Mulder could not hear and then Rachel was crying, holding to Mrs. Scully. He looked away and tried to swallow down the huge lump in his throat.

He saw the similarities between them. Everyone had their own demons. Deciding to face them and move on or let them defeat you, that was life. She helped him the same way her therapist helped her, and he would tell her, he had to tell her. He would let her know how much she had meant to him. Far beyond this simple meal of thanks, he needed her to know. He had cried, broken down, and felt like he would never be better, but she was there and had not given up on him.

Hearing them laugh through their tears, he looked back at them. Mrs. Scully had her hands on Rachel’s face, as they looked into each other’s eyes. She stepped back and excused herself to the bathroom, Mrs. Scully directing her to which was closest.

The bathroom door shut and Mrs. Scully turned to him, reaching for his hands. He took them and she gave a little tug. He stood up, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly. She said nothing, simply held him to her until they heard the toilet flush. She stepped back and patted his chest. He nodded at her and smiled.

Rachel came back into the room, her eyes red, but a shy smile on her face. “So, who wants dessert?” he asked, clapping his hands and grinning, trying to lighten the mood. They both laughed and answered in the affirmative.

Going into the kitchen with the tea tray, he took out three dessert plates and opened the bakery box. He slid out the chocolate mint pie and cut them each a slice, Mrs. Scully’s just a bit larger than the others. He set all the plates on the tray, added three forks, and walked to the table to hand them out.

Setting Mrs. Scully’s down first, he was rewarded with her bright smile and her hand squeezing his, before he handed a slice to Rachel. She smiled at him too, and waited until he sat down to begin eating.

“This is my favorite pie, Fox Mulder,” Mrs. Scully said to him, giving him a look.

“I am aware of that, Mrs. Scully,” he replied, taking a big bite of his own piece of pie. “Why do you think I bought it?” He winked at her and they both laughed.

“Actually, I tried to make a pie at home, wanting to make the entire meal myself, and uh ... yeah, it was not pretty. I put in too much mint flavoring, the crust stuck to the pan, and it was somehow both chunky and creamy. So, I spared you both the horribleness that was my first attempt at making a pie and bought one instead. You're welcome,” he said, pointing his fork at both of them in turn. They both laughed, Rachel covering her mouth as she did.

After his confession, no more serious discussion was made while they ate their dessert. Mulder told them about Clyde Bruckman and the Stupendous Yappi, and they both laughed. Rachel shook her head, and he smiled at her. She told them of her first internship and how terrified she was to make a mistake. Over thinking every situation, she got the charts mixed up, and called a man Carol for the whole session, believing it was his name. She felt good at the end of her time with him, until he kindly told her as he left, that his name was Richard. After he walked out the door, she covered her face and laughed until she cried. Mulder and Mrs. Scully both howled with laughter.

After their pie was eaten, Rachel said she should be going. It was a bit of a drive back home, and there was a chance it might snow. Mrs. Scully got up from the table and embraced her, thanking her for coming and for being the one to help him. She closed her eyes and hugged her back.

Mulder walked her to her car, checking the weather as he did. There was definitely the promise of snow in the air. She put on her gloves as she stood by her car door and then looked up at him. He smiled at her and sighed.

“Thank you for the dinner, Fox. I am glad I came and met your Mrs. Scully. She’s an amazing woman,” she said with a smile.

“She is,” he said with a nod. “Rachel ... this dinner seems so inadequate to the thanks I want to say. You know that I met with other therapists, but they weren’t the right fit. You were the one I needed, the one who wouldn’t let me give up, who wouldn’t take any of my bullshit. You said tonight that Ty was the one who helped you and made you want to help others. Rachel, you need to know how much your help means to me.”

She dropped her head and nodded, quiet aside from some sniffling. She raised her head and looked at him, with tears in her eyes and on her cheeks.

“It ... it was my pleasure. You were worth it, Fox Mulder,” she whispered. He nodded at her and felt tears in his own eyes. She stared at him for a second, before throwing her arms around his neck, quietly crying as she thanked him. He held her tight, whispering his own thanks to her.

She pulled back and squeezed his hand, her gloved one soft and warm in his cold one. Dropping his hand, she got in the car and rolled the window down as she started the engine. She stared at him, a smile on her face, as she shook her head.

“Show her, Fox. Show your Scully how you’ve changed. Be patient, and show her,” she said kindly. He nodded and put his hands in his pockets. She smiled again, waving at him as she backed up, rolled her window up, and drove away. He watched until her taillights disappeared, before he went back inside, shivering from the cold.

He found Mrs. Scully in the kitchen cleaning up the mess from dinner. Steering her to the kitchen table, he took over putting away the leftovers, dividing them between him and her, at her insistence, and washing the dishes. She told him how she enjoyed meeting Rachel, and the dinner was wonderful. He grinned at her praise, and she came over to dry the dishes, despite his protests.

“If I help, we can have time for our own visit, before you need to head home,” she said, and he could not argue with that logic.

He asked if she would like more tea, or coffee, and she agreed to a bedtime tea. Smiling, he added more water to the kettle, telling her that she and Scully were very similar. She smiled at him and nodded. When the tea was ready, they sat quietly at the dining room table, waiting for it to cool a bit before drinking it.

“I don’t really know how to begin to tell you how much you have meant to me this last year. All that you have done for me, Mrs. Scully,” he said, before she interrupted with a click of her tongue. He looked at her and she shook her head.

“I told you before, Fox, it’s what family does. Family shows up,” she said with a smile.

“I know, but ..”

“You’re welcome, Fox. It’s exactly where I needed to be,” she said, touching his hand. They were quiet again before she spoke up once more.

“I was touched by Rachel’s story, especially the part with her mother,” she said with a glance at him. “Her mother was prepared to take on a hurt if it meant her daughter would be safe and getting the help she needed. It touched home to me, thinking of Dana and William.”

Mulder was quiet, closing his eyes at the mention of William, the one topic that was hardest to discuss. Anytime he and Scully came close to having a real, honest discussion, he would see the look on her face, and it would break his heart. He knew she internalized more than she said, even when it felt she was being completely open. It never went far, her not wanting to reveal too much, and him not wanting to ask more in order to avoid hurting her.

“Mrs. Scully ... Maggie,” he said quietly, opening his eyes and looking into hers, letting the use of her first name touch her the way he knew it would. Her eyes tearing up showed him how much it affected her. “I know there is a desire to discuss William, and I want to, but it ... it hurts more than it heals. He’s gone and ... I don’t know ... we don’t know where he is or even how to find any information about him. Would he ... he wouldn’t even know us. Our appearing in his life ... it would wreak havoc on him ... confuse him. And yet, I know what he means to Dana. Please ... Maggie ... please don’t think that means I don’t love him or care for him, I do . I just ... I’ve had to let him go in my own way. It doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of him and how our lives would have been with a child in it. Birthdays, Christmases, first days of school, random days at home, or sports he may have played. I’ve thought of it all, and it hurts like a son of a bitch, every damn time,” he said, choking back a sob. She reached for his hand, and together they cried for the boy they both missed, and for the life they were all denied.

“Fox, I know that you love him, of course you do, I’ve never thought otherwise,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I know that if you could, for Dana, you would find him. Even if only to know where he is, how he is, I know you would find him for her. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for my girl, Fox, and for that I will love you forever. Perhaps one day, we will find the answers to the questions it hurts too much to ask.”

He stared at her, at this woman who with her mother’s heart, seemed to know his own so well, and he cried. Her arms held him and he heard her tears, as they clung to each other. If he had been a religious man, he would have prayed for strength and guidance, to show him the right path to follow. Instead, he put his faith and hopes into her words.

One day, the questions that hurt so much to ask, would perhaps have an answer.

One day.

_________________

Note:

As I said, I had this chapter written in my head for months. Months, you guys. Rachel’s story has been super important to me. To show how a person changes to become who they were meant to be and how the past lays way to the future. I wanted her to be a ballerina because it’s something that takes dedication and time and yet it was hurting her. That was similar to Mulder and his need to seek out the truth, but it was dragging him down. I like the way they mirror each other.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ❤️❤️

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #X Files Novel #Angst #Hurt and Comfort #Sharing the past #Therapy is good for the soul #Ugh I love Rachel so much #Mulder evolving to become S11 Mulder... it is a beautiful thing #I love this show

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fuwafuwamedb · 5 years

Text

Dodging Death Pt 6 (Hakuno, Caster Gilgamesh)

Previously: 1 2 3 4 5

____

Ah, of course.

Magic retainer to lover.

Hakuno stared at the man a moment before she averted her gaze to her drink.

There was nothing to fear here. No, there was a more obvious explanation, one that would explain why Cu hadn’t fully listened and why she wasn’t really reacting strong enough to someone suddenly appearing where her cat had just been standing: she was drunk.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Whatever bottle she’d been partaking in, even though it was such a small amount, was no longer going to be drank in her home. In fact, she was going to go completely and one hundred person sober from here on out. She’d eat right, no more sweets-

…Okay, like one dessert a week.

She’d have one dessert a week instead of indulging in the daily sweets. She’d exercise and train from here on out. She knew Emiya was doing archery with Sakura. Rin did boxing a bit and sojutsu with Cu Chulainn. She could do one of those things. Or maybe she could become a boxer. She could get some serious arm muscle and start really working out.

That’d be cool.

Yeah, she’d learn to box.

“Hakuno…”

The point was, she was going to be a better person. She’d finally lost it. She had imagined her cat transforming into an obnoxiously attractive guy. She was no doubt panicking because, on some level, she’d had unprotected sex with a guy who-

“Shit,” Hakuno breathed.

The man stared at her.

“…How many women do you sleep with?”

If there was a man in her house, which her hand on his chest said there was, then she had slept with someone and not somehow bruised and bit herself. That meant she’d had sex with someone with no regard for consequences.

The man’s jaw dropped, his coughing and pulling back making her feel no better than before.

“Woman, I am not explaining this to you-“

“Are you tested?”

He just stared as though she’d asked something entirely ridiculous.

“Are you tested for diseases? It’s a simple yes or no question.”

“Hakuno, there’s no testing for diseases. One asks their gods to ensure that they are not struck down by illness.”

She cursed, climbing out from under him and onto her feet.

Great. So she’d slept with a guy who didn’t know the first thing about diseases and she’d had that great sex without any regard towards her own wellbeing.

“I could be pregnant with our luck.”

Another big absolute no in her mind. They weren’t doing that. She had classes to attend. She had friends to make and friends to fight with. If someone was going to date her, it would be after they became friends and became close. Emiya had been as close to acceptable as someone had ever become. Since he was a big no, there was no one else.

So, tomorrow morning she’d go and visit the doctor. It was a Saturday. There’d be a few hours at the doctor’s office that she could sneak in during to get a complete workup. She’d ask for some medicine to help prevent this panic from happening again and-

The man’s hand took hers, the blond nearby holding it as though he’d just grasped the most fragile piece of glass in the world.

“…I was not aware that your fertility was so great…”

She shook her head.

“I’m sure I’m probably not,” she told him, pulling her hand away.

They were tabling this conversation. Yes, they weren’t going to be considering that kind of thing when there were bigger problems.

“What’s your name?”

A name would let her know who to look up the next time he came whisking into her home and then scurrying out with the sun. If he was real. She was quite determined to keep that idea far, far from close to mind.

The man nodded, clearing his throat a bit.

“I suppose that this is all quite sudden for you. I hadn’t considered, since you had taken most everything so well, that you would become a bit concerned about a proper introduction. Since I am technically courting you and intend to claim you for myself, it is only just.”

It was only just. The man helped her to sit beside him on the couch and smirked, pressing a hand to his chest.

“I am Gilgamesh, Mage King and son of the god Utu’s child Lugalbanda and the goddess, Ninsun. I rule over the kingdom of Uruk, a kingdom of great prowess and insight. We are the luminaries of the world, the keepers of the great knowledge of the ancients. I defeated the great bull of heaven. I slaughtered the great monster of the Cedar Forest, Humbaba. I partook in the bounty of Uruk’s splendor and rose the kingdom to immense heights to such a level that the gods themselves weep in envy.”

Arrogant.

He was Gilgamesh and he was extremely, unerringly arrogant.

He’s worse than his story.

Hakuno stared at him for a moment, watching him turn that gaze to hers once more as he rattled off his accomplishments. He leaned in closer, that fine face just mere centimeters away from her own.

“I’m Hakuno Kishinami. Student. Librarian. Ancient Studies amateur researcher in the making.”

“Researcher… like on the television?”

Like on…

Hakuno shook her head, “Those researchers are for solving crimes. The only crimes I solve are in artifacts and ancient times. Like- What kind of meaning comes from these old texts,” she motioned at the epic.

“Hakuno.” The man snorted, covering the smirk on his face that said she’d said something incredibly stupid. “If I had my court here, I would forever record the absurdity of your words. Despite your metal horses and your finer technology, I’m afraid you must get your head out of your books and realize that Uruk is just a mere ride or so away from here.”

“The remains of it, maybe.”

She wasn’t dumb. She knew that the remains were out there. They’d made it a historical site and one in need of preservation but-

The man leaned in closer, his frown etching deep lines upon his face.

“Excuse me?”

“Uruk. Its remains exist.”

“What are you talking about? I came from there a mere month or two ago.”

No, she’d plucked her cat off the street a mere two months ago.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh moved closer yet. “Uruk cannot be destroyed so easily in two months’ time.”

“This isn’t funny. You can stop this and just tell me your real name.”

The man glared at her.

“Uruk’s been gone for centuries. Millenia. It’s… Hold on.”

She grabbed her laptop, against her better judgement, and turned it on. While it was booting up, she went for her drink, but the man downed it on her, setting her glass down harder than it needed to be set down.

She pulled up a selection of images, opting for the visuals since words probably wouldn’t mean much.

The man simply stared at it.

“…What is this?”

“Uruk.”

“My Uruk has the center ziggurat. There are channels running through the districts to ensure flowing trafficking of goods from one area to another. I have districts with smithies and breweries…”

“You may have had that at one time.”

But he didn’t have that now.

The man pulled the computer into his hands, looking at the keyboard and the mousepad in a strange manner. His fingers pressed to the screen, jumping a little at the fact that she had a touch screen.

“It’s ah… Let me show you,” Hakuno offered.

The man was either a brilliant actor or insane.

As she navigated the sights, showing him the images on the screen, she found him pulling her into his arms. Anything they’d discussed before was permanently tabled. His eyes were running over the images. His face was paling to the color of bleached sheets. Those red eyes were looking at the words, his voice barely getting out the question of what everything said.

“Uruk fell.”

He felt so still.

Hakuno glanced up at him as she read through the downfall of the kingdom. She could feel those fingers digging into her person as she described what she read.

“You should know some of this. There’s a large excerpt on the death of the advisor, Siduri and about the blasphemous clay being, Enk-“

“Don’t.”

Hakuno felt him reach in front of her, closing the laptop and setting it on the floor. His arms pulled her closer to him.

“Don’t speak of this right now. You are a maiden and you allowed me the comforts of your body before. I simply need the feeling of your person against my own. I require your silence and your arms holding me right now.”

That face nuzzled her own. The man holding her shivered and nuzzled her, pulling blankets over their bodies and murmuring softly to her.

“It is always so damn cold in your home.”

“I can’t afford…” Her words stopped at the sight of the king’s eyes closed. There was a wetness that hit her face underneath his.

He’s…

The man could have done anything.

Rage, threaten, scream, grow violent, try to come onto her; all of those things would have had simple answers of calling the police and sending him out of her home. She would have had a drink, called up Rani, complained about the asshole that had come into her home, and gone on with her life. It would have confirmed that the man was insane.

Seeing someone who’d just proudly declared that he pretty much could rule a kingdom and defeat the biggest of enemies begin to look like this…

Hakuno wiped at his face, murmuring for him to release her a moment.

She cranked up the temperature in the house, grabbing the blankets from the bed and bringing them to the living room. She pulled the coffee table closer and, after making a pot of coffee, she wrapped herself under the blankets with the king.

“What is this?”

“Coffee.”

“You enjoy your coffees,” he murmured.

There was nothing not to enjoy about her coffees. She sipped at them, grateful for pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into her drink. The man at her side sipped at his black version of the drink, humming appreciatively.

She set the television to one of those music stations, where it would just play soft music and let them see something just visually pleasing. Her body ended up atop his, nestled into his arms.

“I should find you clothes,” she murmured.

“I have no need for such things right now,” the man murmured to her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. “I have dreamed about holding you for days. Allow me my indulgences.”

“You are not my cat,” Hakuno argued.

“I have seen your naked body more times than I can count on these hands, Hakuno,” the man replied, smirking into her skin. “I know every curve, every dip and inch… I’ve nuzzled this chest you have so many times when I wished to rest.”

The man purred like a cat as he said that last bit.

“Had I possessed you in my time, I would have surely been harassed less about the task of seeking rest. I would have come to my bed far more easily.”

“Mhmm.”

“I know that you don’t like if there’s too much pressure on your chest,” he continued. “You are especially weak to someone moving anything light against your belly and chest though.”

As though to prove his point, he stroked at her stomach lightly, watching her squirm and nearly knock their drinks out of hand.

The mugs were abandoned.

The king pulled her deeper into his arms, kissing lightly at the top of her head.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to argue about his being a cat part of the time. He didn’t seem all that eager to bring it up either. Without that, they were left in a moment of silence, listening to the soft music playing in the background. His hand not holding her close began to brush back her hair gently.

Those lips of his pressed lightly to her forehead, then to the top of her head.

“I found my way here,” he murmured, taking his time to move those hands of his to her back. The man was working miracles on her back, making her sink into his embrace. “I will simply need to recall the magic I used before when we resolve this transformation problem of mine and we can return to my time. We’ll save Uruk.”

“You will,” she corrected, yawning lightly.

“We. Will.” The man tilted her chin up, pausing from his ministrations to look her in the eye. “I cannot promise you that your life will be simple. I cannot promise you that I will senselessly spoil you until you can want for nothing. I learned from a young age that such things cannot satisfy a person.”

That hand stroked her cheek softly.

“What I can promise you,” he continued, “is that there will never be a moment in your life where you are without option. I can promise you the joy that you showed to me upon having your magic freed. I will spend all the time that you wish teaching you how to use that power of yours. I will show you what the ancients, what your ancestors in particular, took great pleasure in while you were forced to live as a mongrel amongst mongrels.”

“You have a kingdom to look after,” Hakuno countered.

“I do.”

“I don’t need to know how to use my magic.” Despite how fun it would be to know, she could always just take pleasure in the fact that she could be lazy about turning off light switches. “Just take care of your people.”

“We will,” he pushed again, pulling her up his person a bit, delving one of his hands into her hair and tilting her face towards his. “I have seen what you are capable of. Harnessing winds to dry my hair, changing the temperature of a space without magic knowledge, harnessing the world’s information into the device you used before; your qualities are endless.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded nice when he said it. She leaned into that hand, finding him stroking his thumb across her cheek.

“I thank you for the coffee.”

“Coffee always helps. At least, for me it does.”

She fell asleep, deep enough that she didn’t register anything until the sun started to stream into the room. The body beneath hers began to shake, pulling out from under her and waking her up in time to see the shaking of a light golden coat and the soft mewl of her cat.

Gilgamesh was once more G.

“It was too good to be true that you’d stay human, huh?” Hakuno asked, yawning lightly.

The cool air hitting her chest made her look down.

“…Really, Gilgamesh?”

When had he taken her shirt off? Why had he taken her- But there was a bitemark on her chest, showing just off to the side of her aching chest. Shifting merely told her that she was going to be taking a shower to simmer down this morning.

“We’re having a talk about what can and can’t be done when I sleep,” she warned the pet, stalking passed him with her comforter wrapped around her person. “You can forget about any coffee privileges if you become human at all in the next week.”

She showered.

She dressed.

Taking an extra few minutes, Hakuno found herself looking in the mirror.

Other than a bit of fatigue and a couple bruises she’d need to tuck her turtleneck over, she didn’t look that bad. Perhaps magic helped…

Magician Hakuno.

Now if she could just magic some knowledge into her head.

Wait…

Can I?

Hakuno moved into the living room again, finding G swaying gently to the sound of the music on the television. Those eyes opened lazily, regarding her with mild interest as Hakuno sat down.

Wasn’t this always the dream: to simply press your head to a book and gain all the knowledge through an osmosis kind of thing? The book was filled with translations and grammar rules about Sumerian. If she managed it, then she could really talk to Gilgamesh. She’d never have to study again.

A light, inquisitive mewling came from nearby.

“Just a second, Gil.”

She had to check this out.

She pressed her head to the book lightly.

Memorize.

The rush came like the crack of a whip, like a surge of burning heat speeding through her veins. Words and sentences flashed through her mind’s eye. She could feel her mouth and her throat aching for some reason, like she’d been talking for hours and had groan hoarse. The more she tried to breathe, the more it all hurt.

She could hear G meowing nearby, but she couldn’t fully see what was going on. Opening her eyes just made the piercing migraine increase.

Her body grew dizzy.

The floor was coming up to meet her.

And the world grew black.

#drabble #drabbles

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kurtty-drabbles · 4 years

Text

Lara Croft au (part 2)

N/A: Do I know what am I doing here? not really, I´m just trying to do a worldbuilding exercise here.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @djinmer4 @bamfoftheundead @everykurt @muninandhugin

Doug is tapping on his shoulder on a rhythmic pattern mimicking an old song as his eyes are vibrated on the screen and his other hand is holding his seat strong enough to make his knuckles white. Logan is next to him and only rolls his eyes at this. "Still afraid of flight?" and Doug Ramsey is really good in those scenarios. "Of course not" Doug lied. "I just like to hold my chair really tight and look at the screen of my flight as my life depends on it...and you?"

Logan is not impressed. "I have meds to sleep...It will take 8 hours to arrive at the capital of Zenore, Saphyr...and it will take more 2 hours to reach our real goal...so no reason for you to look as if you´re about to explode...is making me nervous" and Logan offers the meds to Doug.

The mark has the Genosha´s royal brand and Doug asks. "I thought you dislike Genosha..." Doug states and Logan shurgs off. "I may dislike the country, but, I´ll give credit when is due...their meds work like a charm...which is funny cause half of their populace is linked to the magic of some sort" Logan concludes and Doug nods.

"Logan...do you really believe in that myth of the tiaras? A nation that got so advanced just because they made pretty tiaras for Gods isn´t a bit...racists?" Doug asked still dumbfounded by this myth. People still think the Egyptians in the ancient era had their pyramids craft by aliens even though it was more than prove that no alien civilization help in making those pyramids.

Logan groans for a moment. "Look, if you had me ask this 50 years ago I would say yes...but the thing is, Zenore has a bit of mysticism and I´m not too ignorant to say Pheonix and Zaorva can´t exist...maybe this myth is a bit simplest? yes, but...I can´t say it hasn´t some trace of truth either...Zaorva´s stories are..." he clear his throat for a moment. "something else entirely and I saw enough to at least give the benefit of the doubt in regards of those tiaras"

Doug wanted to ask more but when the flight attendant tells they´ll be flying higher for technical reasons- reasons that Doug has no mind to understand- those questions vanish from his mind. "Ok, wake me up when we land safely"

Logan nods but he asks. "Your friend isn´t very nice if she made you pick a flight knowing you´re that scared" Logan censure, Kitty, with his tone and Doug shakes his head.

"No, she was the one who wanted me to prevent to come...but, I´m her right hand and I´ll not let her be alone in this adventure...I just forget I have this problem with flights" Doug almost chuckles but he took the med and his eyes begin to relax a little until Logan´s voice is no more.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt and Kitty watch the scene for a moment. Kitty can feel his golden eyes on her form-she told Doug to not come, there´s no reason to strain himself on her behalf, but, the dumb boy never listen- and she decides to interject. "He wanted to come...and no, what I should do? Lock him in his room and say wait for me? Plus, I hate to travel on ships...and I know we´ll have to travel on one" she shivers a little and shakes her head looking at Doug´s sleeping form direction. "guess he still wants to protect me" and Kurt sees a fond smile play on her lips and frowns as his head snap to the other direction.

"I´ve no fear on ships or flights..." his tone is low and Kitty looks at him confused. "just saying..." and Kurt is save of saying or receive any response when the flight attendant telling that they´re traveling the pacific ocean and soon will arrive in Zenore, of course, soon means 8 hours.

"Are you two want anything to eat?" the flight attendant offers a sultry smile to Kurt, and Kurt only, ignoring Kitty´s request for a glass of water, and Kurt frowns at this.

"Mein frau, we would like a glass of water. One for me and one for my companion, bitte?" he flashes a charming smile and the flight attendant humpf loud and leaves without paying any attention to Kitty, who is again, as she looks at Kurt, confused.

"You know her?" she asked distrusted.

"I´ve no idea...and does it matter when we´ll see DC´s movie for 8 hours?" Kurt changes the subject and Kitty´s eye widens as the movie is about Wonder Woman. Kurt´s eyes glace at Kitty who is in awe at the introduction of Wonder woman.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Amanda Szardos is on the back doors where all the flight attendants take their breaks from their duties and Amanda is right now making a call- Terry Simms rudely points his watch at her to say she has only 5 minutes on the phone and is off to distribute snacks to the passengers- once she´s truly alone for the time being.

"Hello, is me...they´re going to your way. Should I ..." she stops talking and only nods her head and sighs one last time. "I understand. It will be as you say." and she hangs up the phone with her face twisted into something unpleasant.

"Amanda...is your turn now" one of the flight attendants states and Amanda is not bothering with good mood or politeness now.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

"Kurt..." Kitty speaks and once not getting an answer she tries again. "Miss Germany!" she whispered a bit louder and that jolt him on his seat and his golden eyes are focused on Kitty. It is no longer creepy to see his golden eyes in the dark, but, it does make her think of crypts.

"You call me Miss Germany?!"

"Do you think...Magneto wants those Tiaras to gift to his daughters or he wants to do something stupid?" Kitty asked and Kurt chuckles at such a question.

"You wake me up for that? Also, only you can call him stupid and not be punished severely...I´m envious of that" his good mood continues. "Now for the tiaras...I think Magneto is selfish enough to want to have the tiaras all for himself"

"And you´ll be ok with that?"

"You think he would share the tiaras with me? Oh, I´m flatter, Katzchen"

"Don´t call me Katzchen"

"Ok, Katzchen"

#Lara croft au #doug Ramsey #Kitty/Doug Brotp #Kurt is a bit jelly here #Kurt wagner #Logan Howlett #Kitty pryde #kurtty yet #always anti amanda #worldbuilding?#I don´t know

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freedom-shamrock · 5 years

Text

Bi the Pricking of my Thumbs

Huge thanks to @galahadwilder for letting me play in your sandbox!

For those just tuning in, this story comes from THIS post. In case it’s not obvious, this is a piece in honor of pride month. It's safest to assume that no one is straight or cis in this story. If this is a problem for you, if Bi-drien and Bi-nette have no place in your head, this is probably not the story for you, and it would be better for both of us if you just take a hard pass and skip it. Sincere questions are welcome, but bi-phobia will not be tolerated.

Note: Chat’s father is a bigoted fuckwad, and Marinette knows the stats for poor outcomes for queer kids.

Also on AO3.

Chapter 1

"What do you think?" Marinette held up a sketch for Tikki to see the minor modification she wanted to make to her superhero look for the month of June.

"Very tasteful," Tikki said, clapping her little nubs together happily. As she examined the pink, blue and purple striped ribbons. "They’re clearly a nod to your own sexuality, helping bring awareness and visibility, while remaining your usual professional Ladybug self." She swooped in and nuzzled her holder's cheek. "It's so nice to see society changing their perspective on this matter."

"I can't wait to show Chat." At seventeen, she truly felt her partner was her best friend. Sure, she had very good friends in her civilian life, and some of them even unknowingly backed her up in battle now and again, but over time Chat's unwavering support had risen above the rest. About nine months after getting their miraculous, Master Fu started meeting with them to learn more about their individual specialties and powers. He gave them homework and exercises to work on both alone and together. Despite the covert nature of their time together, it had had the intense bonding impact of a week away at camp, adding to their already strong friendship.

While she still insisted they maintain their secret identities, she'd relaxed a lot as she'd grown more confident and sure of herself as both Ladybug and Marinette. She was no longer opposed to sharing personal details that wouldn't identify them, though in the last year she'd gradually accepted that a reveal wouldn't be such a bad thing. It had been nice to really get to know and understand her partner. Given his isolated upbringing and cold father, it made sense that he'd needed to learn proper social etiquette for pursuing someone romantically. She'd been gratified when he met up with her for training one evening with a heartfelt apology for his self-described "dudebro behavior." He'd been respectful and appropriate ever since.

"Didn't Chat say he was planning on coming out this month?" Tikki asked. "In his civilian life?"

Marinette nodded. “That’s part of why I want to do this, this year. I want to support him for a change.” He'd seen and heard how her own process worked for her. At fifteen, Ladybug came out as bi, letting her test the waters and see if she could handle the reaction without a super suit to deflect the cruelty she expected to follow. The following year, Marinette made it clear to those who hadn't already figured it out. Since it wasn't something she'd actively hidden, it wasn't a big surprise to her friends and family, though it was confirmation for those who didn't already know for sure.

Last year the two heroes had been asked to speak at Paris Pride Fortnight, and Chat Noir made a beautiful heartfelt speech at Tour Montparnasse, ultimately revealing that he wasn't merely a supportive ally, but that he was also bisexual. Only Ladybug knew that her sweet and kind partner was still very firmly in the closet as his unmasked self. She'd been the person he went to when he was starting to question his sexuality, and she'd been first person he'd told once he felt he knew where on the scale he landed. She suspected she was still the only one who knew, and she was excited and hopeful that his friends would be as supportive as hers were.

"It's about time to meet up with him," Marinette said. Technically it was a little early, but Chat was often early to their trainings. It got him out of his house and let him feel free. "Can we give the new ribbons a test run?"

"Of course!" Tikki said brightly. "You know the words."

* * *

Chat looked the part of an utterly dejected kitten when she found him atop the Eiffel Tower. He didn't even try to fake it when she zipped up to their favorite beam and landed beside his hunched form. He glanced at her, a deep hurt clear in his eyes before he returned his gaze to Paris. "Hey Bug," he said softly.

"May I hug you?" She was pretty sure of the answer, but she needed to be sure. "You look like you need a hug or thirty-six."

He let out a totally unamused snort. "I would love a hug, and I'm not sure thirty-six even comes close to what I need." His voice sounded rough, something she'd learned happened when he'd fought with his father. Shouting and crying were hard on him.

She threw her arms around him, pulling him close. "I'm happy to listen if you want to talk about it. But we can also sit quietly if that would help you more. It's entirely your call."

He took a shuddering breath and burrowed into her shoulder.

"Oh Kitty, I'm so sorry," she murmured, moving to lean against an upright beam so she could better hold his weight. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

After many long minutes, he seemed to relax, the shakiness had passed. "It's my father," he muttered. "But you probably already guessed that."

She was starting to think the biggest danger in revealing identities was that she'd straight up murder his father once she knew who he was. The abusive fuckwad.

"I told him that I planned to come out as bi in the next few days, and… I knew he wouldn't like it, so I'd done my research. I had a whole presentation on my planned social media announcements and stuff. I had statistics to show that it wouldn't hurt in faaa - our line of business." He let out a heavy sigh.

"It didn't go well?" She wished everyone had parents like hers. So supportive and loving.

"Ha!" He let out a mirthless laugh. "Apparently, he didn't realize I wasn't straight." He sat up, rubbing angrily at his face. "I guess that means I've done a good job at hiding it, or maybe he really pays as little attention to me as my friends say."

She caught his hand. "Did he hurt you?"

He cringed and she wished she could take back her words at the pain they obviously caused. "I have no illusions that he loves me. I'm not sure he's capable of it. And I kind of thought he didn't feel anything, that maybe he wasn't human enough to have emotions anymore, but the disgust… the absolute revulsion he feels for me being bi… it hurt far more than any slap or punch could have."

She scowled out at the lights of Paris. "Just so we're clear here, I hate your father. I've never really hated anything, not truly hated it before. It's kind of a gross feeling."

"Yeah. I know what you mean." His voice was soft, and she wondered how many times he tried to convince himself that he didn't really hate his father. "Anyway, I… I don't think it's going to be possible for me to be public about my sexuality until I move out. He hauled out his usual array of threats if I go against his wishes and come out as planned."

"Oh my god, is he Hawkmoth?" she demanded. "Because he sure as hell is having a go at being Paris' greatest villain." She shook her head. "You're seventeen. You know how you feel, and science is behind us on this. Sexuality isn't binary and all evidence suggests that treating your queer kids like there's something wrong with them increases their risk of alcohol and drug use, depression, and suicide." Though she had to miss more meetings than she wanted, she'd joined the Lycee chapter of the Gender and Sexuality Alliance in her first year there. Lots of people thought she was just being supportive of Marc since it was also the year they started collaborating on cross disciplinary projects. With the meetings she’d made it to, she'd learned more than she'd ever wanted to know about poor outcomes for teens like them.

She turned to give Chat a full once-over. "You're not okay, Chat. And that's fair. It would be unreasonable to expect you to be okay while living in the home of a man who finds your sexuality disgusting. For your own well-being, I think you need to start looking at getting out of there as soon as you can. Whether you get your own place, or you stay with friends, you need to get out of that house."

He nodded, looking a bit surprised by her vehemence.

"You're beautiful and amazing, and I'm so proud of you." She caught his face in both her hands. "You are perfect the way you are. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

Even in the low light, she caught the warm flush of pink in his cheeks. "Thanks, Milady."

"And I need you to do me a favor." She picked up one of his hands, clasping it firmly between hers.

"Anything," he whispered.

"I need you to tell me immediately if you ever feel like harming yourself.” She was completely serious, and she saw surprise on his face.

“Oh, I’d never…”

She shook her head. “No Chat. You may think you’d never, right now. But that can change. And it can change so fast.” She squeezed his hand. “You may feel like you’re deflecting your father’s hostility and negative reaction, but some of that gets through. And it will every time. It will add up, and it can suffocate you. So promise, please.”

Understanding washed away the surprise. He nodded.

“I need you, Kitty,” she said gently. “I really can’t do this without you. I wouldn’t have the heart to keep doing it.”

His smile was weak and watery, but it was sincere. “Thanks Milady.”

“And you’ll work on getting out of the house?” she asked, certain it was the long-term solution he really needed.

“I’m going to need to think that one over a bit more,” he admitted with a shrug. “There’s… a lot to consider.”

“There is,” she agreed. “And if you can’t figure it all out, let me know. I’ll help. I’ll find you a place to stay if need be.”

He hugged her again, for a long moment.

As she tightened her grip on him, she considered what else he could to to feel better. “Maybe you should find one friend, one person who you know will absolutely not blab to others, and let them know. You deserve to have someone in your regular life who you can share this stuff with.”

“It seems unfair to burden any of my friends with this secret,” he admitted.

“My Maman has a saying about that,” she pointed out. “A burden shared, is a burden halved. Just make sure it’s someone who will respect your need for secrecy.”

“I’ll think about it,” he agreed. “Like seriously and for real.

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

Check out Chapter Two >>

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

This was supposed to be a quick one shot, but I now expect it to be 3-4 chapters.

And if you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #Pride #bi pride #galahadwilder #Bi-drien #Bi-nette #my writing #Bi the Pricking of my Thumbs #unsupportive parents #discussion on future potential for self harm #biphobic parent

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