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cowboisadness · 3 years

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Found You {Arthur Morgan x F!reader}

Summery: She was there for Arthur through everything, being more than good friends but less than partners. They support eachother through the good and bad times, it’s not love tho, no, it’s not love at all.

Rating: M. Basically porn with plot. More plot than i planned i really got carried away with this. SMUT IS HERE! 18+ ONLY!!

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Chapter 4 - Together

The next few days were nothing short of torture. Arthur never spoke another word to me, huffing whenever I would say something to him or just walking away from me completely. Everyone else in camp soon noticed something serious had happened between us. Their comforting words and questions on what happened went unanswered and dismissed. I hoped time would help, that I would get a chance to explain myself and apologise for my foolishness and downright stupidity. But as the days passed, the frayed ends of the rope had no chance of being reconnected, no matter how hard I tried and how hard I cried. So I flung myself into as many jobs as I could get. As a distraction.

Robbing homesteads. Stagecoaches that turned into shootouts more often than not. Gambling with fellers that were too drunk to notice me stealing their wears from right under their noses and gone before they realised anything was amiss. Fighting in hidden alleyways with meagre men that thought they could take on a woman with nothing to lose. Just to feel something, another kind of pain that would lessen with time.

It wasn’t until I was sat at the edge of the camp, cleaning my revolver while looking out over the overlook, stars raining bright above. Bottle of whiskey by my side that Hosea came over and sat beside me. Silent at first. Taking in the view.

“You going to explain whats going on?”

“Nothings going on, Hosea.” I shrugged, running the oiled cloth over the same spot mindlessly. “Arthur won’t tell me. I though out of the two of you, you would.” he kept his eyes ahead, not bothering to look at me. I sighed, my shoulders dropping in defeat. I might as well tell him, not like he would be able to change my mind.

“I’m an idiot. I spoke to Mary. Told her to leave Arthur alone and to stop contacting him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know anymore...Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You love him.” I could see his grin out of the corner of my eye, albeit a sad on.

“Not you too, Hosea.”

“You two were very close. Closer than you think I realise. I’m not a dumb old man you know”

I didnt reply to that. No point to, my mind was made up now. Instead, I holstered my gun and stood, picking up the bottle as I did. Turning to Hosea to finally look at him.

“I’m leaving, Hosea. Only for a few weeks or a few months. I don’t know.”

“You really think leaving will help?” “Maybe. It might help him if I’m not here. I’ll send money and write to you and Dutch. I’ve already packed.” After a few more words and questions on my plans when I’m out there on my own, we hugged and I said my goodbyes to him, Dutch and a few others. Promising the girls I will see them again, even though I was doubtful. I willed no tears to spill when I gathered my things, leaving my tent bare and hollow. Mounting my horse I left camp without looking back, letting the wind guide me in whatever direction it wanted me to go.

---

Roughly 4 months had passed since leaving. Currently holed up in a now-abandoned cabin in the depths of Grizzlies East by O’Creagh’s run, hiding from the law after robbing the fence in Van Horne. Id wrote letters and sent money to nearby stations as promised. Keeping updated with the gangs coming and goings. The last time I heard from those who would write back, mainly Hosea and Mary-Beth, was when they were held up in a place called Shady Belle. I haven’t heard anything from them since. That was a month ago. I had thought of going there, finding them. But I couldn’t bare having to leave again after realising they had been getting on fine and had left me to my own devices. Coming to the conclusion that I was not returning and that I had abandoned them all. Which was far from the truth. I still cared, which I’m sure was evident from whatever leftover money I had been sending to them. Only, it wasn’t getting picked up from the stations anymore, along with my many letters. I was travelling back to the cabin after an evening hunting for supper and hopeful breakfast. The blanket of trees now behind me, opening up the wondrous starry night, pulling my jacket closed as the cold breeze this time of year began to sting any uncovered skin. I looked around before dismounting, taking my kill of two rabbits stowed on the side of my ever faithful horse and made my way inside. Looking around once more to make sure I hadn’t been followed. Just to be safe. As I began to skin and gut the meat, the warm glow from the lantern lighting my every movement in the otherwise dark cabin, I heard motion outside. Bears and wolves were not uncommon around these parts. I had to shoot my way out of a wolf pack not a week ago, coming away with nothing but a bruise on my hip from being bucked off the horse in her desperate attempt to flee. Nevertheless, I placed down the knife and picked up my rifle propped up against the door. Looking out the window to the right of the door. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing else. I went to the door, preparing my rifle then placing my ear to the door. It was silence for a few moments, then movement again, making its way up the steps. It didn’t sound like an animal. With a hand on the handle and rifle ready to be used, I swung the door open. The rifle now aimed at the unwelcomed guest.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust in the darkness, but it didnt take long to recognise who it was.

“Arthur?” It was barely a whisper. A question of disbelief. I blinked a few times, surely my eyes were playing tricks on me.

After a few breaths, he finally spoke “I’ve found you.” We just stood there, I released a breath I didnt even know I was holding. How did he find me? Why would he? Months of keeping myself away from people the best I could and staying hidden for long periods of time I was beginning to feel content with being a lone wolf. Not thinking that lone wolves are weakened beings after too long. Often driven out when deemed useless or a weakness to the pack, or leaving to find their own family. Not alone forever, wolves would struggle and go insane.

But he, of all people, found me. The only question now is why. And that was the only thing I could say as I lowered the gun.

“Why?”

He told me everything that happened. The downfall, the betrayal, the heartbreak. Those that we lost. Everyone gone in one way or another. Sean, Kieran, Lenny, Hosea, Molly, Miss Grimshaw. Dead. Saint Denis bank, Guarma, Micah working with the Pinkertons. In the end, Micah had turned Dutch against almost everyone, whispering little worms into his ear until they grew and grew to leave no room for anything else.

Dutch turning his back on Him and John. Leaving John to bleed out and leaving Arthur on that mountain. Where he thought would be his final resting place. But once the sun was up, high in the sky, he found the energy to live. To heal. To find me.

And that’s what he did the last few weeks until he heard whispers of someone fitting my description that caused a bit of hell in Van Horn. He knew he was close.

“But...why did you want to find me?” I asked. Both of us sat around the small table below the window, two empty whiskey glasses before us.

He took in a deep breath, his perfect blue eyes meeting my bloodshot and watery ones. “I wanted to the moment I was told you left,” He leaned over, taking my hands in his.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few months. Especially in the last few weeks. What you did before you left, I understand now why.”

“But I hurt you.” letting a sob escape, my body starting to tremble and I’m sure he could feel it in my hands.

“It did hurt. But losing you hurt even more,” He said, nothing more than a whisper, his eyes never leaving mine and his hold on my hands not faltering as he continued. “I remember what you said to me that night years ago. ‘Bout not knowing how much I mean to you. Well - I - I do. Because I feel the same. Always have. it just took me a while to realise it I guess.”

I couldn’t stop the tears. The damn had busted open. Within seconds he was on me, his arms enveloping me, my hands coming to purchase on his shirt. Neither of us wanted to let go, out of fear the other would disappear into the air like dust in the morning rays. We held each other for what felt like an eternity, my tears slowing and the shaking subsiding. I lifted my head from where it was perched on his chest to look at him, our eyes locked once more. No words were spoken but I could see it in the depths of those pools, the forgiveness and longing. And I was sure my eyes mirrored the same. His hand came up to cradle my face and I instinctively leaned into him, my breathing hitching despite the calmness that washed over me. Then I looked into his eyes again, only to be met with a look I had not seen in many years. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could he surged forward, his lips on mine. It was delicate, more fragile than any other kiss we had shared. It wasn’t long until that fragility turned into desperation, my hands at the nape of his neck, his on my waist. My mind was running a million miles a minute, all thoughts of him and this moment. Feeling like we were young lovers again. His hands roamed my sides as I gripped his hair, keeping each other glued to one another. My body began to burn up, feelings I had repressed for months pushing their way to the surface, refusing to be drowned. We broke apart and he pulled me to stand, his lips now on my neck, trailing wet kisses from below my ear to the hollow of my neck, causing me to moan. He looked at me then, desperation and pleading etched upon his face before I kissed him again. Kissing the scar on his chin that was easily visible within the stubble, his jaw, down to his neck and then his chest. Pushing off his jacket and suspenders with it. My fingers returned to the front of his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly as he pushed me back into the direction of the bed. My legs soon coming into contact with the edge. His hands now making a start on my blouse, pulling it from the confines of my pants and lifting it over my head. My hands roaming his chest and snaking down to his abdomen, stroking the hair there, causing him to tense at my touch. He always was a fine man, built from hard work that I couldn't help but adore. His arms wrapping around to my back to undo the corsets lacing, completely surrounding me and all I could smell was him. Horse, rain, sweat and something that was just so undoubtedly him. Undoing his gun belt was muscle memory, hitting the floor with a thud, my corset following, now both bare from the waist up. We couldn’t wait any longer, our lips on each other once again as we worked on unbuttoning our pants. He leaned me down to lay on the bed, my legs hanging over the sides as he wasted no time to pull off the rest of my clothing. Laying there propped up on my elbows I watched as he raked his eyes over every curve, scar and freckle on my body. Kneeling between my legs he drew kisses from my knee up my thigh, getting oh so close to where I wanted him to be. He looked up at me once more, giving a shuddering breath before his mouth landed between my legs, soft but purposeful strokes easily pulling moans from me. He didn’t let up, devouring me like a man starved as he paid close attention to my little bundle of nerves. My body shaking again but for a whole different reason. It had been too long and I knew I wasn’t going to last if he kept going for a minute longer. My hands fisting the bedsheets I tried to speak but it was useless, squirming from the sensations. Lifting my legs to rest on his shoulders feeling him moan against me, the vibration causing bolts of electricity to fire through my whole body and land at my core. I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching and my hand flew down to card through his hair, holding him there. My body convulsed as I tipped off the edge, my head rolling back as the blinding pleasure washed over me, moaning his name into the air. Arthur was above kissing me within seconds, tasting myself on his tongue and lips. Catching my breath he pushed me further up the bed until my head hit the plush pillows. Removing his pants and then situating himself between my legs. I could feel him pressed up against my thigh, hot and swollen and begging for attention. And oh how my body craved to give him what he needed. His eyes met mine, hooded and filled with lust. Silently asking for permission. I nodded, placing a kiss on his forehead and placing my hands on his shoulders. Electrifying jolts surged through my core as he strokes himself along my slit tenderly. His skin burning to my touch and looking downright drunk. Completely intoxicated. He sinks into me slowly. My body soon getting accustomed to the memory of him as he bottoms out, his hips meeting my thighs. My breath hitches as he bites back a moan. Both of us taking a moment just to bask in the feeling of one another like this again. It all felt the same but so different. He kissed the scar on my collar bone that he only got to see before when it was fresh. We had been through so much over the years we would need to learn about each other again. But one thing remained the same; my body yeard for him. He pulled out before setting a languid pace, lifting one of my legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him to go deeper, his pace quickening and lifting my hips to meet him, Chasing our pleasure. One hand in my hair, tangled up with my locks as his other hand firmly grasped my hip. The look on his face was evidence that he was holding back, needing to completely lose himself in me. And I felt the same. “Arthur...Please.” I purred, not needing to say anymore. His pace quickened with a grunt, one that was a borderline growl. My moans and the sounds of skin on skin filling the air and our ears as he kept hitting that sweet spot. My nails forming crescents on his shoulders. Pulling him down to crush my lips against his, our teeth clicking and tongues dancing together. Pulling back suddenly with swollen lips as the pressure began to build, my whole body trembling more and more as I got higher and higher. Moaning out his name as his rhythm began to falter. Nuzzling into my neck and mumbling ‘oh, fuck,’ in that gravelly but wanton voice. His hand on my hip made its way between my legs, rubbing in quick circles. I couldn’t hold back. That coil within me growing tighter and tighter before snapping. My back arching as the shockwaves rocked through me. Slowing his pace slightly to ride me through it before picking up his pace again, chasing his pleasure with a few more pumps of his hips and he stilled. His hand like a vice on my thigh as he spent himself inside me with a drawn-out moan. It took us a few moments to get our breath back. Pulling himself from me causing me to whimper from the empty feeling and sensitivity. He moved to lay beside me and pulled me to lay with my head on his shoulder. Neither of us willing to clean ourselves up just yet. My skin now acknowledging the cold air around us. The thin sheen of sweat cooling me. Nothing was said for a while as he held me close until he broke the silence to place a kiss to the top of my head then lifting my chin for my face to meet his. “I love you,” he said. My eyes getting blurry from the confession I never thought I would hear. But looking at him I knew it was true. His eyes shone with adoration. I smiled weakly before kissing him once. Looking back into his eyes and with no hesitation, I said out loud what id only heard myself mutter in my dreams. “I love you too."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #smut #rdr2 #arthur morgan x fem #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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katsukisbimbo · 4 years

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Bokuto Koutaro x Reader

✯pairing: Bokuto Koutaro x Reader

✯genre: strangers-to-lovers au!! with fluff, cRack aND!! smut!! slight angst too. uhh the several uses of the term “fat c0ck” because bokuto has a big dick

✯summary: meeting bokuto was a roller coaster you weren’t ready for, but you knew that if you had the chance you’d ride on it over and over again just to experience everything all over again

✯wordcount: 3.7k

✯note: hey guys i’m slowly pushing requests out so i hope you guys can bare with me!! this is for @gulfwanq who’s writing i absolutely love!! keep making great content love, muAh

you first met bokutou when you went to the local convenience store near your school

you really wanted some onigiri plus you didn’t have lunch

aNd onigiri miya was closed today

sigh

rUmbLe RuMbLe

gosh you were hungry

when you went to grab the last onigiri on the shelf you were surprised to see another person grab it before you

like huh

do i have to bite this stupid persons hand of-

you turn your head to look at the culprit and

your jaw DROPS

this man is gorgeous

and he looks like an owl

a really cute owl

owo

“if you could kindly take your hands off of my lunch i’d greatly appreciate it >.

and that’s the nicest way you could tell someone to fuck off really

but he just smiles and pulls the onigiri towards him and turns to walk away

oH NO YOU DONT BEEFY BOY

you jump on his back and try to choke him?? and steal the onigiri back??

and this dude is just laughing

what part of this is a JOKE to you HUH

this is LUNCH

LUNCH IS NOT A JOKE

you were not here to play games with cute boys

but you would make an exception if he played with your-

ANYWAYS!!!

the store owner sees the two of you fooling around and just kicks you both out

in the end neither of you ended up with the onigiri

“did you see what you did horn head? now i’m hungry”

and he just grabs your arm and pulls you into a different direction

“hEY- wHere are you tAking mE” you yelled exasperatedly at the random boy who was pulling you

“we’re going to get ramen”

oh ok

but like,, was he going to treat u or,,,

“i’m paying, come on”

wEll

who were you to turn down free food??

especially from a beefy looking dad-

aNYWAYS

“wait a minute,,, who aRe you?”

“hEY HEY HEY!!! dOnt you know me y/n??? i’m bokuto koUtaro!! i’m in the top 5 ranking of japan’s aces!!! i’m the best!!!”

his name,, did not ring a bell

nothing at all

“uhh,, ok,, how’d you know my name?”

ruh roh

bokuto started sweating profusely when you asked him that question

siri how do you tell your kouhai that you’ve noticed her ever since she was a first year but you were too pussy to actually talk to her or ask her out until you saw her trying to get the last onigiri at a convenience store so u say ‘hey why not steal her onigiri and make her fall in love with me’ so that’s exactly what u do

siri: here are the search results for “adult diapers”

sIRI THATS NOT WHAT I SAID

“ahh i’ve noticed you around before n i kinda thought you were cute”

take in bokuto didn’t even care that you didn’t acknowledge him before like he just cares that you’re talking to him now

n he was just avoiding your gaze but all u could think about was how cUTE!! he looked

wow

babie

and that was how you met bokuto koutaro

now he was almost leaving you

and through the months, bokuto had weaseled his way into life as your best friend, and in your heart, but as something more

it was easy to catch feelings for him

i mean,, who wouldn’t

you were currently in his bed, waiting for him while he showered

bokuto had graduated just today and you were gonna miss him so much :((

while you were thinking about bokuto, you didn’t realize that he had already exited the bathroom, sHIRTLESS

his grey sweatpants were hanging low on his hips, giving you a show of his v-line and delicious looking abs

wow

he turned to you and gave you a heartwarming smile

unfAir

he was too cute for his own good

“kouuuu come lay with me”

he dried his hair a little bit more before hanging the towel back into the washroom, then made his way to your spread out figure on his bed

he crawled on top of you and wrapped his arms around your waist while his head rested on your chest

your hands automatically made their way to bokuto’s head, massaging his salt n pepper locks just the way he liked it

he looked too pure right now

“kou?” “mm?” hummed bokuto

“i’m gonna miss you. so so much.” you forced out, feeling your tears starting to drip down your cheeks

bokuto immediately noticed the quiver in your voice and looked up, only to see his precious girl crying

“oh no bAby please don’t cry, please don’t cry i’m so sorry pretty girl come here” he cooed as he sat up and scooped you up into his arms, sticking you back in forth as you buried your face in his neck

but this only made you sob harder

“whyre you crying pretty girl? i’m not leaving tokyo, and i’m still gonna live here. you’re still gonna see me” he reasoned

he didn’t gEt it

he was going to go to a different school, meaning he wasn’t going to be with you all the time

and going to a new school means meeting other people

what if he meets someone and falls in love with them

and what if he just leaves you behind

you wouldn’t know how to deal with all that pain if that ever happened

you knew that bokuto was a busy man but you weren’t ready for him to leave you completely

like yeah you coUld come to his house to see him but you wouldn’t want to distract him from doing work or anything

you just weren’t read to let your kou go and that was okay

“i-i don’t want to be left behind” you sniffled

instead of comforting you even more, bokuto just tightened his hold on you and started laughing, letting you head the deep timbre of his voice

his laugh was so cute

“what do you mean pretty? im not going anywhere so how can i leave you?”

gOSH

did u rEALLY have to spell it out

bokuto looked at you expectantly as he lifted your chin to make you face him

you shifted your gaze to the suddenly interesting pillow at the foot of bokuto’s bed

“i’m scared that you’ll find someone better than me” bokuto’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and opened his mouth as he was about to interject-“i’m not the prettiest, or the smartest, or the coolest or the most athletic, but yet you chose me to be your best friend kou” you mumbled

all bokuto could do was watch as his love broke down in front of him, spewing all these lies about herself, degrading herself in front of him

honestly bokuto was pissed

who inserted all these negative thoughts into your pretty little head?

who made his special girl feel like she wasn’t enough for him, when it was him who didn’t deserve her?

she is kind, understanding, and loving. she is also vEry smart. which is why he couldn’t figure out why you thought you were less than what you were

he didn’t understand how you couldn’t see how wonderful you are

“i’m scared that you won’t return my feelings”

there it was

bokuto pushed you by your shoulders, far enough to let you see his beautiful face, but not too far to the point where it seems like he’s doing it out of disgust

“oh y/n. my sweet girl, my special girl, you have absolutely nothing to worry about! y/n, i’m in love with you, i’ve been in love with you since you were a second-year. and i never doubted oNce that you were the one for me.” he stroked your cheek

“im so sorry if i didn’t reassure you, pretty. i just thought that you already knew these things. i’m kinda stupid, even for one of the top 5 aces in japan!!” he joked, causing you to let out a few giggles

you looked into his bright eyes, and cupped his soft, warm cheek, and slowly leaned towards his pink lips

“kOu!!! y/N!!! dinners ready!!”

goodamnit

you immediately placed your hands on his chest, planning to push him away and coax him to going down for dinner

until

he leans down and captures your lips with a heated kiss

your hands made their way into his still damp hair and tugged, making him groan into your mouth

your body involuntarily arched at his touch, letting you feel his bulge as he pressed into you

you started to rock your hips against his, wanting to feel the friction between your clothed groins

“k-kou— kou please‘ you whimpered into his mouth, not knowing what exactly you were begging him for

“shit babe i gotta stop or else i won’t be able to hold myself back,, and i want our first time to be special” he mumbled against your kiss bitten lips

gOsh

he was so cute :(( he wanted your guys’ first time to be special :((

mom :( i’m :( in :( love :(

“okay kou, lets go downstairs then” you suggested as you tried to push him off of you

“bUt pretty giRL—“ “no whining kou, lets go big boy, you must be hungry” you said as you finally got him off of you and sitting on the edge of his bed as you tried to pull his arm

“yeah i’m hungry just not for food tho” he mumbled lowly, not letting you catch it”

“what was that?” “nOTHING i’m starving haha let’s eat” “oh okay”

after the both of you made your way downstairs, bokuto i’d mom had immediately noticed your interlocked hands and started cheering

“I KNEW IT!! Y/N WAS GONNA BE OUR DAUGHTER-IN-LAW” she yelled in her husbands face as the both cheered while you and bokuto just stood there

“i’m so proud of you son, you finally grew a pair and asked her out after what? months and months of pining after her? ‘dAd how do i ask a pretty girl out?’ and ‘daD she’s so beautiFul i feel like i’m gonna pEe myseLf’”

“dAAD STOP EMBARRASSING ME”

any time spent with bokuto was never boring

after that day, bokuto had taken you on several dates, until he formally asked you out

and he was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for

he always had snacks ready

he always made sure to text you and call you to tell you whenever he was busy so that you wouldn’t worry

he always made you one of his top priorities which felt nice

and bokuto just gives you so much love

but one thing is that,,, bokuto is very jealous

he would get all mopey and dejected whenever a guy or girl would come up to you and ask you for your number, or if you wanted to hang out with them sometime

obviously you declined, informing them that you had a boyfriend

but the fact that people still wouldn’t leave you alone pissed him off to no end

he voiced his thoughts to kuroo, who just thought that he was being stupid

there was no way you are gonna leave him for anyone else

bokuto was stupid to not see how utterly and completely in love you were with him

all you had in your heart was bokuto and nobody else was needed

but there was this one incident, where someone had groped you in public, right in front of him

and he went ballistic

if it wasn’t for his friends and you who held him back, he would’ve certainly gotten arrested for assault

even though it would’ve been fair

sexual assault is a big no no

after that day, you made sure that whenever you sensed bokuto feeling down or jealous, you would insure him that he was the only one and will only be the only one

which usually got him feeling better in a span of 2 minutes

when bokuto had gotten into the MSBY Black Jackals, you were so proud of him

you were happy that he was able to do what he loved and made it into his career

he was really an excellent volleyball player

you would try your best to make it to all of his games and he honestly really appreciated it

he was so thankful for you for being as loving and supporting as you were to him, he honestly didn’t think that he deserved you

but let’s be honest

bokuto deserves the world

meeting some of his teammates for the first time was hEctic

they had all come over for a small get together at yours and bokuto’s condo

hinata wa stour favourite, just because he was cute and you saw how much he admired bokuto

and sakusa was very nice?? surprisingly you got along with him just fine?? which surprised everybody else

but miya atsumu

whew

this boy was something else

you lOved him!! honestly!!!

but he was just a little shit sometimes it made you want to rip out your large intestine and eat it

he would sometimes crash at your shared condo with bokuto, after a night of drinking with their team

and he’d let you clean up after him AND your boyfriend, as they were both drunk out of their minds

there was one night where you had to sleep in the guest bedroom because koutaro and atsumu had fallen asleep in your bed

while cuddling each other

wow

but all in all he was a great guy, and someone you loved as your brother

sometimes

phew

the first time you had sex with bokuto

you were afraid

bc of the fact that you were a virgin n it was your first time

but luckily it was kou’s first time too!!

which put you at ease a little

but you were still afraid that you might not be able to satisfy him?? like what if he says that it doesn’t feel good?? or if he says that you sucked at sucking dick??

that would be so sad

so you did what you had to do

you contacted all your female friends and asked them to teach you how to uh sex

which was a very awkward conversation between your friend group, since most of them were virgins too

they suggested to take it slow and not spring it on him all at once, especially since most days he’d be too tired from practice

so after practice, you made your move

bokuto had just gotten home and had gone straight into the shower after giving you a little peck while you were cooking in the kitchen

you decided that you were going to let him eat to gain some strength before you sucked him dry

after his shower, he excited the room with black sweatpants hanging low on his hips

kinda like deja vu

this was a scene that would never get old

you say him down and fed him, knowing that he liked being babied on some days

and you honestly didn’t mind, you liked taking care of your boyfriend

he was just too cute

after dinner, you washed the dishes and pushed him on your shared bed, face first

you sat on his bum and started lather his back with lavender oil, knowing that he loved the smell and how warm it made his back feel

you started to massage his back, slowly starting to press your thumbs into the knots in his back, making him groan at the feeling

it went like that for at least 45 minutes, you finished up after tending to each knot in his back, making you feel very accomplished

you flipped him over, only to see his blissed out face. his eyelids were drooping and he had a little dopey smile on his face

you put your hands on his chest and slowly made your way down until they reached the hem of his sweats, which you slowly pulled down

releasing his semi hard cock from its confinements

you felt yourself start to drool at the thought of gagging and slobbering all over his fat cock

he was barely conscious until you licked a fat strip from the base to the tip

which woke him up pretty well

“s-shit babe“

his large calloused hands tangled themselves into your hair and started slowly pushing your head back onto his awaiting dick

which you gladly took into your mouth

he stared with a slow place as you caressed his cock with your warm tongue as he pushed your head down, and suckled on his tip when he pulled back

you loved the feeling of his fat cock going down your tight throat

the feeling of your drool and his precum mixing made you clench your thighs, which didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend

“fuck, thats it pretty girl, take it down your throat. you’re such a good girl. baby’s gonna take my load right? you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow it all for me right?” he teased as he pulled you off of his dick

you coughed and nodded your head, moving your face near his crotch again, wanting to keep it in your mouth

he chuckled at the desperate look you had given him when he didn’t give you what you wanted

luckily, you had only been wearing your panties and one of bokuto’s oversized shirts

you loved wearing his clothing especially because you liked having yourself covered in his scent

he just smelled so nice

he pulled you up and pushed your hips to turn you around

which made your hips over over his awaiting mouth while your were faced with his dripping cock

you started to slowly give the head kitten licks, until those licks turned into long and hard sucks

he pushed your panties to the side and grabbed your hips, pushing your pussy into his waiting mouth

his tongue was relentless

alternating from roughly licking your clit to dipping his tongue in your slit, moving his tongue with vigour

his manhandling had made you work even harder, getting him closer to his euphoria

cuz you are the cause of bo’s euphoria🥺

yEah yEAh yEah yEah yEah yeAhhhh

anyways

once hit started to stroke your clit with his thumb

it was over.

you were done and creaming on his face while bokuto was releasing on your face as well

shiT

bokuto really do be hitting different

he gently pushed your body off of his and reached for a towel, gently wiping your face while whispering apologies

after he was done he gently kissed your lips and got on top of you once more, using both his hands to spread your legs to reveal your glistening slit

(psa sex isn’t really like this irl LOL i’m exaggerating it,, but if u find someone who cares enough about u then it might just be like how i describe it👁👄👁 my first time having sex was with a skinny weeb gamer boy who sold marijuana to the crazy people downtown so,,)

anyways

bokuto shoved two meaty fingers into your hole, spreading you out even more and scissoring you

making you arch your back off of the bed

shit bokuto felt like he was about to bust just looking at you

“i’m gonna make you feel so good pretty girl, you won’t even remember anything but my name.”

👁👄👁 ok den

one thing bokuto loved to do was go on late night drives with you??

it was surprising that bokuto had a license in the first place but after he had graduated you had forced him to get one, because obviously it was necessary smh

he had taken you to your guys’ favourite spot

which was just on top of a hill that had a beautiful view of all the city lights

his car always had extra pillows and blankets just in case you guys had a last minute trip to your spot

he immediately set up the pillows in the trunk and beckoned you to come over and sit next to him

““i love being here with you kou, it’s like just yesterday i was still tackling you in the convenience market for the last onigiri” you reminisced

he laughed and buried his nose into your hair, loving the smell of your fragrant shampoo

his large hands rubbed your sides, making you snuggle into his side even more than you were

he was just so warm and cuddly

it was hard not to just bury yourself in him

“i love you y/n. you know i’d give you the world if i could right?” ““i know kou, i love you too. you don’t need to give me the world because i have you, you are my world”

damn

you never failed to fluster him, after years of being with each other

you were so in love with this boy

all you knew was bokuto

he was your first everything, and hopefully your last

he slipped out of your hold and stood up, admiring the view of the city as he walked a little, until he suddenly turned to face a confused you

like y was he suddenly standing up

until he wasn’t

this was bokuto koutaro, the love of your life, down on one knee, as he held a white velvet box, which contained the prettiest diamond ring you could ever get

you immediately felt tears starting to stream down your face, even though he hasn’t said anything yet

“y/n,, i’m so in love with you. i don’t wanna be with anyone else but you. you give me happiness, love, faith, and courage. i want to be by your side until we grow old together. i have loved you since you tried to choke the shit outta me in that convenience store. you loved me at my worst, and my best, you are the cause of all good things in my life. you are the cause of my euphoria. no, you are my euphoria. pretty girl,, will you continue being my euphoria?”

you couldn’t help yourself as you jumped into his arms and started peppering kisses around his face while mumbling yes with each kiss

he took your hand and gently slid the ring on your finger

now he could show people that you were his, as he was yours

“i love you kou”

““i love you more, pretty girl” he mumbled as he kissed the top of your head

“kou,,” “mm?”

“i’m pregnant”

“wha”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #bokutou x reader #bokutou koutarou #volleyball #volleygays #haikyuu headcanons

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years

Text

Twaumatized

Based on this

Includes: Implied/Referenced Torture (its all offscreen and barely hinted at, but I'm mentioning it anyway), Worldbuilding, Dissection (again, offscreen), No character death, No Angst because I can't write angst even in a dissection fic, Morbid humor, and Mute Danny Fenton

While the news had reached some of Casper High before it, the anguished scream on Monday morning was really what signaled everyone knowing.

Almost everyone in the hall spun to Paulina as she collapsed to the ground in a wailing fit.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dash asked Star, who was standing over her friend looking horrified.

“Mi-mi amor!” Paulina sobbed, waving Star’s phone around. “My Phantom! He’s dead!”

“Well, he is a ghost. Wasn’t that a given?” Kwan chuckled and Paulina threw the phone at his head.

“What’s going on?” Dash asked Star again.

“The-the Fentons. They released a report last night. It’s all over the news. They… They teamed up with that huntress chick with the flying board and caught Phantom on Friday afternoon. He-he-”

“They killed him!” Paulina hissed. “They destroyed my love! My Phantom!”

More horrified shrieks rang out and people dug through their pockets and bags for their phones.

Dash snatched up Star’s and started looking over the article that was pulled up. Kwan wrapped his arm around Star and his girlfriend buried her face in his chest. Valerie hid her smirk in her locker. Mikey ran off, his hand over his mouth. Sam and Tucker stared at the A-listers for a solid minute before turning to their friend.

Danny, having been the only one who hadn’t turned to Paulina, was putting his English book into his bag and closing his locker.

“Danny?” his friends said.

The words echoed through the near-silent hall and Dash’s head snapped up.

“Fentoni!” he growled, marching up to the trio. “What the hell is this? This better be your parents making crap up again!”

Danny ignored him as he turned to leave.

The jock grabbed for him, but Valerie pulled him back. “Leave him alone, Baxter. It’s not on him that your crush got vaporized.”

“Of course you’re protecting him,” Star snapped. “You’ve hated Phantom since day one. I bet you’re happy he’s gone!”

“Yeah, I am. Good riddance! That ghoul will never bother us again.”

“Phantom is a hero!” Paulina spat.

“He was a monster,” Valerie shot back.

Dash spun on Danny, only to find Manson and Foley alone. “Where’d Fenton go?”

The two were shocked to see their friend had disappeared so Dash pushed past them and ran for Lancer’s classroom, the rest of the class following on his heels.

When they reached the door, Lancer was passing Danny a paper with a sigh. “This better be real.”

He nodded with a smile and tucked the paper into his backpack. He tried to go to his desk, but Dash intercepted him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

“Mr. Baxter!” Lancer snapped, jumping to his feet.

“We’ve got questions so you better start talking.” When Danny just stared blankly at him, he gave the smaller boy a shake. “Talk.”

“He can’t,” Lancer said, grabbing Dash’s arm. “Mr. Fenton suffered an injury to his lungs over the weekend and is currently unable to talk. Now set him down.”

Dash huffed and set him down roughly as the bell rang. “This isn’t over, Fenton.”

“What is this all about?” Lancer asked.

“His parents killed Phantom,” Nathan said, pointing at the boy as he took his seat.

Danny rolled his eyes and took out his phone.

“You think murder’s funny, freak?” Star spat.

“That’s enough. This is neither the time nor place,” Lancer said shakily, but he was ignored as everyone started yelling.

“Who’s going to protect Amity now?

“It’s not murder, he’s a ghost!”

“How can you even sleep? Isn’t your parents' lab in your house?”

“I bet you helped them, didn’t you!”

It went on for a few minutes before an air horn sounded. The class ducked their heads and clapped their hands over their ears. They turned to see Danny smiling smugly at them. As soon as he released the trigger, he held up his phone.

“You’re all complete and utter morons. Can we start class now?” a robotic voice stated.

Lancer cleared his throat. “Yes, while the insult was hardly necessary, Mr. Fenton is right. All of you, to your seats.”

They followed orders, but most of the students continued to glare at Danny throughout both the class and the days to come. Valerie tried to stick by him, but Sam and Tucker both glared her off while Danny ignored her at every turn.

Sam and Tucker tried to talk to him, but all he would tell them was that he was fine. That Frostbite had looked him over and gave him the all-clear and he’d already talked everything out with Jazz.

He didn’t tell them that she was heading back to Amity, having easily convinced her teachers to let her finish the semester online since she was already so far ahead in class. That she and Vlad -- of all people -- had teamed up to get Jazz custody of Danny. That his parents hadn’t even noticed the papers Vlad had slipped them to sign, too excited about their latest victory.

Probably for the best. Jazz had plenty of reasons lined up for why she was taking custody, but the longer it took for their parents to notice, the harder it would be for them to fight it.

He didn’t find any of that nearly as important as the fact that his friends kept saying his parents nearly killed him while his classmates kept saying they had done it.

Nor as morbidly hilarious.

His parents had done a lot to him, but killing had never been on the examination table.

Ha, dissection pun. See, morbidly hilarious.

As it were, everything came to a head at lunch on Wednesday when a white-black-green blur shot through the ceiling and smashed a cafeteria table.

The students stared at the table, half-tempted to run in fear and half-tempted to get closer in hope.

That had been a very familiar blur.

Then the ghost popped it’s head up and both fear and hope were replaced by confusion. The ghost girl’s hair was white like Phantom’s, but her bangs hung even more into her face by virtue of being chin length and the rest was pulled into a braid that nearly reached her waist. She had Phantom’s face, but her figure was distinctly feminine and she looked like she would have been a head shorter than the ghost boy. Instead of a suit, she wore a white hoodie dress with green melting letters spelling Boo! on the front and a black Phantom logo patch on the shoulder. Underneath she wore black leggings and white boots.

She gave them all an awkward smile and rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, sorry about that. I can’t always control my flight when I’m sleepy.”

“Phantom?” Paulina asked.

“Uh, kinda,” the ghost chuckled. “I’m Dani, er, Danielle that is. Danielle Phantom. Danny’s my cousin.”

“Ghosts can have cousins?” someone said as the popular girl ran over to hug Dani, tears in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for your loss!”

“Loss?” Dani asked, phasing through the other girl’s grip and floating up so she couldn’t get grabbed again.

“You haven’t heard?” Dash asked. “The Fenton’s they, uh…”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. It’s why I’m here. I wanted to see how Danny’s doing after all that.”

There was silence. No one knew how to tell her.

Finally, Valerie took a step forward. “Dani -”

“Nope,” the ghost girl cut over her as she slowly spun around, eyes taking in the cafeteria. She smiled and said, “Well, if you guys see my cousin, let him know I’m looking for him.”

“You’re not going to find him,” Star said. “He… He’s dead.”

Dani frowned and turned to her. “Uh, duh, has been for two years or so. What’s your point?”

“No, I meant he’s gone. The Fenton’s destroyed him.”

The ghost girl stared blankly at her, then looked around at the others. “What?”

“It’s true,” Kwan said.

“You… You all think the Fenton’s killed Danny?”

There were nods from all around, barring one table.

Dani laughed. “Wow, you’re all complete and utter morons.” She dug into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a phone. “I’ve got to text Youngblood about this. Man, humans are wild.”

“I think she’s in denial,” Mikey said and a few of the other nerds nodded.

“I’m not in denial. You're all just stupid.” She put her phone away and looked them over again. “Right, I guess I’ll have to do this since someone in this room clearly has decided to keep his mouth shut. Probably because the situation is hilarious. Normally I’d go along with it, but I’m guessing if you’re all convinced, then the Fenton’s are too and I’m not about to give them that satisfaction.

“Alright, do any of you even know what a ghost is?” she pointed at Valerie when she tried to answer. “And I’m not talking to you because you’ve proven you’re a bigger idiot than most.”

“They’re creatures made of ectoplasm?” a jock offered.

“Well yeah, but that goes for anyone from the ghost zone. I’m saying a ghost specifically.”

“Wait, not everything in the ghost zone is a ghost?” Valerie asked.

“I thought I already told you not to talk,” Dani said. “Come on, no one knows what a ghost is?”

“Manifestations of ectoplasmic energy and post-human consciousness,” Sam said sarcastically.

“In simpler terms,” Dani snorted. “Come on, basic dictionary definition people.”

“Ghost, noun, the soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the unseen world or to appear to the living in bodily likeness,” Nathan said.

“Yes, thank you, a ghost is a dead person, obviously,” Dani said, clapping.

“Everyone knows that. What’s your point?” a cheerleader asked.

Dani rolled her eyes. “My point is: how on earth do you people expect to kill someone twice? Danny died two years ago. He literally can’t get any deader.”

“But you can destroy a ghost,” Valerie said.

“Uh, no, you can’t. Like I said, stupid.”

“The Fenton’s have destroyed plenty of ghosts before,” the secret ghost hunter growled.

“Correction, they’ve destroyed entities. Very different. Entities are living creatures, just ones made of ectoplasm. They’re basically the ghost zone’s version of humans and animals. And since they’re living, they can die. Unless they have a stable tie to a ghost, like myself. Then it gets weird with technicalities and can be entirely different for every entity. I really don’t have the time or patience to explain exactly how killable I am. Just know that I’m a living creature, but ghosts like my cousin are dead, and therefore immune to death via having already been there and done that.”

“The Fenton’s report said they vaporized Phantom,” Mikey said.

“Well, yeah, I’m sure the Fentons destroyed all his ectoplasm, the fu-uh-udging jerks, but that’s not going to destroy a ghost. They might manifest within the zone or human world through the use of ectoplasm, but their consciousness exists in a plane of existence within the zone that can’t be touched. If a ghost’s ectoplasm is destroyed, they’ll simply reform within their lair. Might take a day or two depending on how strong they are, but they’ll be back to full power soon enough.”

“So mi armor is alright,” Paulina gasped, clutching her chest and Dani mouthed mi amor. “Why has he not shown himself? Is he so strong that he’s taking longer?”

“Actually, the stronger a ghost is, the faster they reform. Danny probably didn’t take a day. No, if he knows what’s going on -- and I’m sure he does -- then he’s probably sitting back enjoying the show. He’s probably got plenty of Quit telling everyone I’m dead jokes lined up for the next time he’s spotted. I know I would and the two of us are crazy similar. Also, it’s common courtesy to leave a ghost’s haunt alone for a few days if they have to reform, so he likely hasn’t had a reason to show up.”

“How could none of the ghost hunters know you can’t kill a ghost?” someone asked.

Dani raised an eyebrow. “Have you met the Fentons? They're some of the best hunters in the world and they don’t know the difference between an entity and a ghost. The parents at least. Their kids are smart enough to have actually asked a ghost how any of this works.”

Many turned to look at Danny, only to see the boy resting his chin in his hand and looking entirely too pleased with the proceedings.

Mr. Lancer’s first-period class suddenly remembered a similarly smug Danny calling them all idiots the same way Dani had and knew he’d be laughing at them if he could make a sound.

“If entities are living creatures, then the hunters really have been murdering people?” Star asked.

“Eh, not as far as I’m aware. Sapient entities don’t really like being in this world any more than you like being in the zone. Everything just feels off, unsettling, unnatural. Entities tied to ghosts don’t have that problem since ghosts bridge the gap, but again, we tend to be unkillable in our own rights. So really the entities that hunters usually end up with are the non-sapient kind that accidentally stumbled through a portal and couldn’t find their way back. So it’s less murder and more animal abuse.”

“Is the ghost you’re tied to Phantom?” Paulina asked.

“Yeah. I’m also tied to my dad, but I’ve been working at cutting that tie.”

“Why would you want to cut ties with your dad?” Kwan asked.

“Because he tried to kill me.”

The bell rang before anyone could react.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave. Tell Phantom I’m here if you see him. Also, tell him to stop hiding like a jerk and just get the jokes over with.” Dani waved goodbye then flew back up through the roof.

Dash turned on Danny as soon as she was gone. “You could have told us Phantom wasn’t dead, Fentina!”

Danny blinked innocently and made an X over his throat.

“You know what I mean!”

He smirked and typed into his text to speech app.

“And lose Phantom his chance to make a Quit telling everyone I’m dead joke? Never.”

With that, he stood up and left the room, his friends chasing after him.

“Danny Fenton, you jerk, get back here and explain all that!” Sam shouted as they slipped through the doors.

The news spread quickly from the school. While the Fentons waved it off as nonsense, other haters were less sure and the rest watched the skies with hope.

It wasn’t until Friday that Phantom finally showed his face.

At first, people weren’t even sure the ghost that had shown up alongside Dani to fight Technus was even Phantom.

The ghost was covered in short white fur and had curling horns that seemed to be made of ice. His face was blank except for a single pure green eye on the right side of his face, which had black markings trailing from it like he’d been crying tar. His chest was caved in, like his ribs were smashed in.

Or removed.

Then people noticed the way the silver hair on his head was in Phantom’s style, though his bangs fell to his chin like Dani’s. They noticed that the ragged black pants he wore were the torn remains of his suit. They noticed the Phantom logo on the gear-shaped pendant necklace hanging from his neck.

He was completely silent, which fueled the idea he wasn’t Phantom, though he often made gestures that ticked off Technus while making Dani laugh.

Several people called out to the Phantoms when the fight was over.

Dani glanced at Danny, who shrugged, then they came down near the ground.

Lance Thunder was the first to reach them alongside his cameraman and asked the obvious question, “Are you really Phantom?”

Danny’s eye squinted with amusement and Dani smirked.

“Yes,” she said. “I am Phantom. Dani Phantom. With an I.”

Danny nudged her, shoulders shaking and she gestured towards him.

“And this is my brother. Also Danny Phantom, but with a y. Clearly the inferior spelling.”

He wrapped his arm around her neck and dug his knuckles into the top of her head.

“I, uh,” Lance glanced between them. “We had heard that you were cousins.”

“Nah, we changed our minds,” she said, squirming away. “We’re siblings now.”

“If he’s Phantom why does he look like that?” someone from the crowd shouted.

Danny made a few gestures and Dani shushed him.

“That reference isn't as funny if I say it for you.”

“What’d he say?” Lance asked.

Danny gestured her forward and she sighed.

She threw her hands up and announced, “He’s been twaumatized!”

He doubled over with silent laughter and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s not that funny, you dork,” she huffed and shoved him hard enough to send him spinning. “Also, Sissy is going to have another conversation with us about using humor as a coping mechanism if you keep it up.”

“Can you explain?” Lance said.

“We can, the question is should we?” Dani asked Danny, who shrugged and made a few signals. “Yeah, alright. So a ghost’s form is modeled after their mental state. Trauma alters a person’s mental state. Therefore, trauma alters a ghost’s form. Danny went through some trauma a week ago, hence he now looks like our yeti friends with some Clockwork thrown in for good measure.”

He nodded and thumbed one of the watches lining his left forearm.

“It’s not that unusual. Ghosts change all the time. Technus did it awhile back. It’s usually not this drastic, but hey, it’s not every day a ghost wakes up to find themself on an examination table with their chest carved out like a pumpkin.”

Rubbing his chest, Danny shrugged. He made a few gestures.

“Is that sign language?” Lance asked.

“Eh, kind of,” she said, making a so-so motion. “The Ghost Zone has a universal language. Not all ectoplasmic beings can speak it, but all of them can understand it. Since he already knew it and can no longer speak, his body is naturally translating it into sign language. I still hear it as if he were speaking English though. Which is nice because it means I don’t actually have to see him to get what he’s saying, but I have absolutely no idea how it even works. He is learning ASL though.”

“Why can he not speak? Does it have to do with not believing he has a voice after the trauma he went through?” a woman shouted from the crowd.

The Phantom’s blinked at her, then turned to each other.

“Sissy would like this one,” Dani said before facing the crowd and setting her hand on his chest. “Lady, he’s got no lungs. No lungs mean no breathing. No breathing means no talking. It ain’t that deep.”

The song “Spooky Scary Skeletons” started playing and Dani pulled a phone out of her pocket. She answered the call with, “The better Phantom speaking… Oh, hey, Sissy.” After a second she pulled the phone away slightly and gave Danny a look. “Sissy’s watching the broadcast and I was right, she’s not happy about the traumatized joke.”

Danny made a few gestures.

“I’m not telling her that. You can tell her when we get home.” She put the phone back to her ear. “Yeah… Okay, we’ll be right there. Bye, love you.”

As she put the phone away, someone asked, “Was that your sister? How many family members do you have?”

“Yeah, she’s our older sister. It’s just the three of us since we kicked our parents out for filicidal reasons. Clockwork’s kind of Danny’s weird legal guardian/grandfather/guardian angel/court-appointed babysitter/thing, but he refuses to be called grandpa and won’t freeze time for Sissy and I so we can take naps like he does for Danny so I don’t know if he counts. Anyways, we’ve got to go now. Bye!”

Danny waved and the two flew off.

“Freeze time?” someone said.

“Their parents tried to kill them? That’s what filicidal means right? What the heck?” someone else added.

“Did she insinuate yeti are real?” a third muttered.

With that, the crowd began to disperse, groups discussing the events as a city-hired work crew pulled up in trucks to clean up after the fight.

Just another day in Amity Park, a nice place to live.

#danny phantom #dani phantom #danny fenton #this is darker than my usual stuff #but it is the phandom

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kotas-dump · 4 years

Text

Idk how to do the read more on the app but have some orc fondling.

The orcs took the land shortly after you were born. A few years later and you learned what that meant. Every year the orcs rode through the village, taking whatever women they wanted. Most were younger, beautiful women but one year it was your mother. Your mother was dragged away in their yearly passing. Taken by a big brutish Male kicking and screaming for you to hide. Your family was known for being good tailors but you hardly could afford to buy her back.

So she, like many others, melted into memories and with it. You were already a quiet child but after that you never spoke again. Your father didn't really care, as long as you worked hard he was glad you didn't complain. Once work was done for the day he drowned himself in ale with whatever profit you made. Slandering your character while he was at it. You were everything from lame, to disfigured, if it was an insult he threw it at you.

Sighing you sit down at your window side table to work on a new child's dress order. The view outside overlooked the lake and the beautiful weeping willow. Beyond the lake was the road into town. Years had passed since your mother was taken, the village was mostly older men and their wives now and there was you of course. Lame, speechless you. None of the younger men found your physical beauty anything worthy of note, coupled with a defect no man bothered being kind. Not anymore. Eventually you stopped hoping for life to be kind and just... accepted your place in it.

Soon you'd be 26 years old. A normal woman would have a child or at least be with child. Grabbing your thread and a needle you went to work. There wasn't any time to waste on a life that would never be. Your nimble fingers quickly sewed up the two cut pieces, the dress quickly coming into shape. Hours passed and the sun was high in the sky, your father finally waking from his hangover. Glancing over to him he stumbled over to the stove and put the kettle on for coffee.

"You eat yet?" He asked, voice horse and deep from sleep. Still his brown eyes were sharp when he looked up to see you give the smallest shake of your head. Grunting he pulled out a skillet and some eggs just as the horns rang out.

Glancing back to the window you see the orcs caravan heading down the road. With the first blooms of spring they came, today happened to be the day.

"Don't bother getting your hopes up. Even the orcs don't want your silent self. " your father grunted from the kitchen. The hiss of eggs filling the empty air.

Looking down at the toddler sized dress in your hands you felt your heart drop to your toes and nodded. At least you earned your place enough to stay. That was good enough.

Even as the delightful smell of food filled the air you found yourself lacking the desire to eat. It wouldn't help, denying yourself meals, but you continued working even when your dad placed a plate next to you. Buttered toast with a fried egg on top and a cup of tea.

You didn't even like tea, mother did.

Holding the dress up against the light of the window illuminated the thin summer layers of the dress. Smiling at your work even as a cloud moved over the sun and cast a shadow over your window. Lowering the dress back to your desk you let out a sigh that ended in a scream. Jumping, your chair tilted back and you slammed to the floor. Your head smashing into the corner of the dinning table behind your desk. Gripping your head a whimper squeezed though your lips and when you pulled your hand away it was dotted with spot of crimson.

An orc stood outside the window! What you thought to be a cloud was the wide shoulders of an orc. He wasn't looking though, but rather out over the lake. That was until you screamed. He turned, watching you scramble for a cloth as your father came in to help you.

Wanting nothing but for the embarrassment to pass you push your father away and wave frantically for him to go back to work as a loud banging comes from the front door. You both freeze, then look to the door.

"All women were to be at the well. Open the door or we break it down. " A deep voice said from outside the door.

Your eyes grow wide and your father leaves to answer the door. Your father is tall, a gene you were unlucky enough to inherit and yet the figure in the doorway dwarfs him.

"No offense intended sir but my daughter is a -" your father is pushed aside as three orcs force their way into your home and store. All three look around, their eyes catching the tunics displayed on the mannequin.

"Your daughter is a woman is she not? " the orc in front asks. Speaking to your father but looking at you.

Slowly you bring your hands down, the bloodied rag folded quickly into your hands.

"O-of course she is but she's lame. I would never wish to offend the chief with o-offering a broken woman. " Your father stumbled over his words on his way to your side but he might as well have stabbed you though the chest.

It was almost magic how words still hurt even after all this time. You cast your gaze down to your shoes, the pain in your head replaced with the familiar ache in your chest.

"What's wrong with her? She doesn't look crippled." The orc in front asks, his eyes hot on your skin. You can hear the other orcs going through the rack of tunics.

"She's a mute sir. Been that way for years." Your father doesn't miss a beat.

Heavy footfalls shake the house and there's a calloused hand grabbing a fist full of hair and yanking it back to expose your long slender neck. "No scars..." his eyes meet yours for a heartbeat before you look away. The orc forcefully turns your face this way and that, pulling painfully as if to get you to yelp. Almost as if he's testing something.

"She's never really talked much..." Hesitation and a touch of fear leak into your dad's voice as he watches you be pulled back and forth.

Pulling his hand away the orc stares at the blood on his hand. Your cheeks flush and you quickly grab his hand with both of yours, wiping blood away with the damp rag in your hands. A silence settles over the room and you freeze wondering what you'd done wrong.

The orc who's hand your holding busts into a deep laugh. The air no less tense. "She's an odd one isn't she?" He turns to the other two behind him and they hesitate before laughing along with him. "Your eyes are as good as dead but you've got a dying fire in there dont you?" Pulling his hand from yours he lifts your chin up to look at him. Confused by his actions and unsure of what's happening you look to your father. He's just as lost as you.

"LOOK AT ME." The orc snaps.

You quickly look back to him. Up close you can see the stubble growing in on his chin, the two tusks with matching gold rings and dark sapphire blue eyes staring at you from behind a heavy brow. Something on his face shifts and his lips pull into a smirk.

"Not even shaking. Most women would be scared of an orc. Doesn't mean well if we've got our hands on you. " he chuckles, dropping your chin.

Quickly your gaze falls back to the floor.

Cutting back in your father places a hand on your shoulder. "Like I said she's broken, lame and only good for tedious labor, hardly good enough for a human man let alone an o-"

Your father cuts himself off as you move away, going back to sit down at your desk. The orcs had their fun but your father was right.

"A-as I was saying, she's of no use-"

"That's not for you to say is it?" The orc snaps. A dangerous snarl in his voice. "Hiding a woman is punished by death you know. "

"H-HIDING? I'D HARDLY S-SAY I WAS HIDING her.." the fear is obvious now in your father's voice. The squeak of a calloused hand on leather squeezing a squawk out of the full grown man.

You snort, a failed attempt at suppressing a laugh, and set the rag beside the cold plate of food.

"Is it funny?" The orc asks, heavy steps approaching you from behind. "Your father dying is funny to you?"

Turning slowly you look up at the green-skinned man, then back to your father and shake your head. There was no way to tell him that the thought of being 'stolen' would mean you were wanted. That that very thought was funny to you. Even the idea of death was a nice one at this point in your life.

You reached out and peeled his hand from the leather wrap of his axe handle and stood up. Tugging him gently toward a shelf of tunics and plucking a deep crimson shade with brown and gold woven trim. It would fit him nicely if not a bit snug. Holding it up against his frame you nodded and placed it in his hands. It was one of the best tunics in your stock. You motioned to the door and headed back to your desk, silence filling the home once more.

"And what does that mean..?" One of the other orcs whispered. The air to tense to speak normally.

"Hmm" the first orc hummed, his fingers rubbing the fabric together.

You could feel his eyes on your back and you stared forward at the lake as the ache in your chest dropped to your stomach. Couldn't they just leave already? There was a few pretty women left in the village they could choose from.

Without words the heavy thuds of the orcs leaving was followed by the door slamming shut. Your shoulders slumped, and you could feel the tears burning your eyes. Another year and you were still unwanted. The harsh words of your father ringing over and over again like hellish church bells. You were losing the fight to hold the tears back and when they fell you shoved at the plate and screamed. Your misguided frustration sending it to the floor where it shattered. Your breath grew short and ragged as your frustration peaked. Fuck all of this. Fuck your father, fuck the stupid orcs, fuck life! Your chest heaved as your lungs struggled to hold any air. Tears burned their way down your face, lighting your chest on fire as you gasped for air. This wasn't fair! You worked hard! You didn't want your life to be this way! You dreamed of loving someone and being wanted, being needed. But not even orcs wanted you. Broken was right.

Your father muttered your name as if to calm you but you threw the childs dress to the floor and wailed harder. Standing up you spin to go to your room, to hide away and never come out until your hurt was replaced by that familiar feeling of numbness.

The orc with blue eyes still stood in your house. His eyes fixed on you, brows furrowed in thought.

You freeze, angry tears still steaming down your face, chest still heaving as you struggled to breath in the perfectly fine air. But.. you'd heard them leave... why was he still here? Pulling on your sleeve you wipe at your face angrily. What were you some spectacle now? Why did he look so transfixed? Frowning you shook your head, the tears still bubbling over as your throat grew tight. Storming past you headed for the door to your room.

A rough hand grabbed your arm and you whipped around so fast your hair smacked you in the face. Pulling on your arm the orc held firm. You grab more tunics and shove them into his chest with a sob. Watching as they fell to the floor in a heap. What did he want? You pulled at your arm again but he didn't budge. Out of ideas and embarrassed beyond belief you stare at the floor. Your hair acting as a curtain but the droplets of your tears hitting the floor proof you were still crying, the burn in your chest only a testimate to your unbridled emotions.

"Why are you crying?" The orc asks, his voice softer than before but no less deep.

A whimper leaves your lips and your shoulders slump in defeat. Gasping for a shallow breath you bring your hand back to rub angrily at your face.

"She won't answer you... I've been trying for years. Mute and lame, like I said, ain't no use trying. " Your dad comes up to you, his hand pulling at the orcs. "You can keep the tunics but... you're hurting her. "

"Hurting her?" The orc turns his icy glare to your father. Their voices were getting distant. Louder but muffled. "What I do with the one I choose is my business. She's no property of yours. Not anymore. Understood?" The orc pulled on your arm but the world was already growing distant. His voice so far away you could only hear the low growl in his throat as you stared at the shine of the tears on the floor.

Stumbling your body moved, why was he pulling you? The door was opened and you were hoisted up. Tucked against his chest with his arm resting under your back and knees. He lifted you ontop of a large boar and climbed on behind you.

You had to have passed out..? None of this was making sense anymore. Loud voices bellowed around you and your eyes looked around to see orcs mounting their own steeds. The world got blurry again as you looked back towards your home, your father standing in the doorway.

Green arms pulled you tight towards a broad chest and the boar began to move. This couldn't be real. It didn't feel real.

"Dont shed tears for them. Humans like that are no better than ants. " the orc grunted. His eyes looking down at you.

Blinking away the tears you sucked in a sobbing breath and stared down at the leather of the saddle. Your thumb running over the stitches as your breathing started to even out.

-----

It took hours for the group to reach their own village. By then your tears had dried and you'd fallen asleep slumped against the strong arms that held you in place. The orc carried you into his home, setting you down on his own bed, draping warm furs over you before heading back out.

A sharp nudge and you jerked awake. Bleary eyed you glance around. This wasn't your room, nor was it your house. The man waking you wasn't your father but the blue eyed orc. He held out a crude clay mug filled with water and you took it, sucking the water down In two large gulps.

"Are you feeling alright?" That soft deep voice came out again. His blue eyes catching in the candle light. He looked nothing like the orcs you fantasized about taking you away. He was clean for one. Aside from the stubble his hair was well kept and his clothes were in good condition.

Wait.. candle light? You glance to the window and sure enough, the midnight blue of the night sky is out.

Standing the orc takes the cup and sets it aside. "I'll take that as a yes." grunting the orc walked out of the room.

Pushing the furs away you sit up and quickly follow.

"The healer wanted to take a look at you in the morning. Lives down the road. " He began, hooking the pot of stew in his fire place and pulling it out from over the fire. "Figured it might be a good start. They already healed your head. Soup?" He ladles stew into a large bowl and holds it out.

A good start for what? Fertility? That would make sense but then why bother being civil? Each second you spent with this man strayed from how you imagined. Unsure, you take it and stand there awkwardly, a loud growl coming from your stomach.

The orc laughs. "Sit. Eat. I'll do the talking." He motions to a large chair nearby and you sit, blowing on the stew and avoiding looking at him. "But yeah. I'll drop you off there, pick you back up on my way home after I get done hunting." Making his own bowl he plops himself down in the chair across from you and watches you.

You're to hungry to care but as you reach the bottom of the bowl you catch him still staring. Biting your lip you rest the bowl in your lap. Did you do something wrong? You look away, toward the fire.

"Your eyes are still..." he clicks his tongue as if annoyed and goes back to eating.

Your eyes were still what? Plain? Boring? Sighing you wait for him to finish. Old habits creeping in as you stand and hold your hand out for his bowl. After a moment he gives it to you, blue eyes watching as you take them to the bucket and squat to wash them out. Standing back up you fling the water from them and turn to him.

Hes confused for a moment then nods, understanding. "First shelf on your right. "

Nodding back you set the bowls upside down on the shelf and sit back down. It was kind of him to take you but... why did he if he didn't like how you looked..? Ah yes that dull ache in your chest again. You crossed your hands in your lap and stared into the fire. To lost in your own thoughts you didn't notice him getting up and crouching down infront of you.

The orc stares, head cocked to the side. "Are you a virgin?"

The question catches you so off guard you snap to look at him only to jump and Yelp when you realize hes only inches away.

A smirk grows on his face. "That's a yes." He pauses, looking you over and scratching at his stubble. "Why?"

Blinking you wouldn't know how to answer that even if you wanted to. Instead you press your lips into a line and look down. Hands squeezing and you can still feel the moisture from washing the bowls.

Blue eyes scan your face. He is so close you can smell the stew on his breath. Smirking he stands up, shielding the heat from the fire and casting a shadow over you. "Your father said you were lame but you just can't talk. Or don't. Not that that matters. " Crossing his arms he raises a brow. "Strip." his voice is firm. It's not up for debate .

It was a command you expected, half looked forward to if only for the curiosity of it all. This man didn't love you and you wouldn't expect him too but to say you hadn't fantasized about this would be a lie. Standing up you slowly work at the strings of your bodice letting that fall to the floor followed by your skirts and finally the boxy chemise.

The orcs eyed you but you didn't feel uncomfortable. It felt a lot like the many visits to the doctor you took as a kid. He breathed deeply and huffed, reaching out and grabbing your waist. A hard lump lodged in your throat and you swallowed it down.

"Hmm" the orc pulled you against him, craning his face down to the top of your head. Again he took another deep breath, grabbing a fistful of hair he yanked you backwards and managed to pull out a small gasp from you in the process.

Despite the lack of romance in the air you'd be lying if it wasn't nice to feel his hands on your body.

Gazing up you saw a small smirk pull at the corner of his face. "Finally a reaction." The orc released your hair but grabbed your shoulders, spinning you slowly. "Not bad looking. Wide hips are good for surviving orc babies, tits are a bit small though. Eh but that will change after a kid or two. " he squeezed your breast, not enough to hurt but enough to make you flinch away all the same.

A low chuckle bubbled from his chest and he took your hand, spinning you again as he sat in your chair and pulled you down ontop of him. "You don't even smell like you're scared. Either you're to far gone or you've imagined this a few times before in that little head of yours. " he tapped your forehead, smiling.

Frowning you avoided that knowing gaze. It didn't matter right?

Shifting he pushed your hips to the middle of his lap, pulling your shoulders and back against his chest. "You know what I do smell?" He asked.

You stared at the fire. You weren't going to answer that but you knew the answer all the same as he pressed his nose into your hair again.

"Mmm.." the sound rumbled deep in his chest and you find the next breath you take is a shaky one. Was he trying to play with you again? It wouldn't be the first time a man toyed with your emotions.

Instead a calloused hand slid over your breast, kneading the small mound before rolling your nipple between his fingers.

Whining you squirmed, a weak attempt to get him to stop teasing you. If he wanted your body it belonged to him. It wasn't like you would try to fight him. Lord knows it's only piss him off... besides... you liked the feeling of his hands on you.

He kept playing with your beasts, tusk tangled in your hair as he inhaled. The faint growl was loud in your ear and his breath was hot on your neck. "Its a nice smell.." he whispered. Voice gravely and lower than you'd heard it before.

You could feel him staring to get hard beneath you and turned slightly, just a peek at his face. Blue eyes were half closed and his hand slid down your front. His right hand petting your stomach but not stopping until his rough fingers slid over your clit and right into you. A low growl announced his approval at finding you wet.

Squirming again you bit your lip, suddenly so aware of your body and unsure of what to do with it. What were you supposed to do? Where were you supposed to put your hands? His finger slowly rubbed circles around your clit and your body tensed as your eyes fluttered close. A quiet but lewd moan spilling from your lips. Your hands flew to your mouth, a rush of heat flushing your face.

The slow circles quickened and his free hand pulled your hands away from your mouth. "You're quiet enough as is." He growled, digging his hand back into your hair he pulled your head to the side and buried his face into your neck. Gentle but hungry kisses only fed that fire that burned in your cheeks.

Without warning a thick finger slid into you, sliding in and out of you roughly as your whimpers and moans filled the room.

Your hands gripped the arms of the chair, your hips begining to grind and buck against his hand on their own. This is the furthest thing from how you imagined this happening but at this point? You weren't about to complain.

His own hips moved, rubbing that shielded length against your bare skin. His tusks pulled at the skin of your neck as he bit at the sensitive skin he found there. Between him pulling your hair, biting your neck and fingering you, you found it impossible to keep still or silent.

The orc slid in another finger, stretching you almost uncomfortable as his thumb worked quick circles over your clit. "You're a tightly wound woman. " he grunted, his breath hot on your neck.

The pleasure was great but not enough to send you over that edge. It was almost painful how he brought you to close but never close enough. It was enough to make you whine loudly, grinding against his hand as your nails dug into the wood.

He breathed in that frustration, you could almost feel him smile against your neck. "You want release don't you? I'll give it to you if yo kis-"

Your lips were on his before he finished the word. Your first kiss was nothing, you would have killed a man if it meant sweet release from this torture.

He was surprised but as he kissed back his fingers pumped faster, curling slightly.

You moaned into his mouth and he took the chance to stick his tongue in your mouth. It was weird but you didn't care. It was only a matter of seconds before your back arched and you broke the kiss to gasp for air.

His fingers stilled but his thumb continued to draw lazy circles until your legs trembled and you twisted away from his hand. The pleasure washed over you like the lingering sting of electricity. Your muscles went lax and you rested your head against his shoulder.

Opening your eyes you found him smelling the fingers that had just been inside you. Squeeking you slapped his hand away from his face frantically.

Dark blue eyes turned to you and you flushed a dark red. "What?" He shifted, clearly still hard. "I don't even get to smell you?"

Swallowing the lump in your throat you stood up. Was that something men did? Shaking your head you quickly went to the buckets and rung out a towel. You wipe yourself down quickly, noticing a few new marks on your neck and shoulder before turning back. Your mouth fell open, the rag falling to the floor with a wet slap as you stared.

The orc was still sitting in the chair. One hand working his length the other held to his face as he breathed in your scent.

What? You're frozen in shock. He seems... big but with no comparison its hard to say. But there's no shame in his face at all as he grunts and growls. It doesn't take long before he cums into his hand, the orc visibly relaxes and his eyes close as his breath deepens. "Towel." He mutters, the hand he used to pleasure you now extended for the rag you'd left to get.

Right! Picking it up of the floor you quickly walk up to the chair. Taking his hands you wipe them down. You can feel him watching you and you swallow thickly as you wipe his length down. You make sure not to touch it with your hand, only the rag.

Taking it from you he tossed it back into the bucket. "There's a good girl. It's a beast for another day." His voice is softer than before and he tucks himself away before standing up. Stretching he looks at you.

Your standing there, naked, and about as lost as a duckling without her mother. This wasn't how you imagined orcs to be, or men for that matter. He smiled and picked up your clothes before wrapping an arm around your waist. Guiding you back towards the bed he shoved you down onto the furs and tossed your clothes onto the floor by the bed. Walking to the door he closed it. There fire would burn itself out and the room felt warm enough.

Stripping out of his shirt he tossed it ontop on the pile and his pants were quick to follow. Luckily he had a thin pair of shorts on underneath. Climbing in bed he blew out the candle. Plunging the room into darkness.

He groaned, punching the pillow before settling in. His arm drapped over your stomach, pulling you back against his chest where he nuzzled into your neck.

What. In. The. World?? Sucking in a slow breath you turned to look at him. There was barely enough moonlight to make out his face but you could see his eyes were open.

"You should sleep. " he whispered, arm pulling you close again. "You're safer here than you've ever been. Learn to relax." He grumbled, eyed closing.

Despite you believing his words you found it hard to sleep. Eventually his breathing mixed with the sounds of the night outside, the low snoring adding to the crickets and cicadas songs.

---

#orc #monster boyfriend #terato #my writing #monster love #citrus

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

Don’t Look

Sort of Febuwump? I’m so late in the game for this one that I’m not tagging it as such but the prompt was from Febuwump.

Summary: Before Regina casts her dark curse, a curse is put on her. One that gives inner evil a physical manifestation and mirrors onto her the pain she inflicts on others.

Warning: Suicidal thoughts and mild gore--mostly trypopobia stuff.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look. It repeats in her mind. She repeats it to herself. She doesn’t want to look, she can’t bring herself to look because she knows what she will see and she knows that it will leave her queasy and dizzy and more hopeless than usual.

She knows that she has done it to herself and that she probably deserves it. She is not a good woman. She is an evil woman. She knows this by now. It is quite deeply ingrained. She thinks that everyone will be satisfied to see her like this.

To see her twisted and broken. To see a curse ravaging her, eating her from within; bridging the ugliness she feels within to the outside.

The hate in her heart warps her unrecognizably. She doesn’t want to see it but she can’t ignore it either. Her hands are stiff, knotted and lacerated. She tucks them into her pockets so she doesn’t have to look at them. She would bury them in gloves if they hadn’t elongated.

The transformation has been slow and agonizing. She doesn’t know the extent of it. She hasn’t brought herself to look yet. But she knows that she has horns, she can feel as much. Every inch that they extend. And they extend quite far. To grow new bones is much more tormenting than to break old ones. She thinks that she would rather break every single bone in her body than to let the horns grow another inch. They get in the way of sleeping comfortably, they get in the way of a lot of things. And her head aches and pounds. Under the weight of them she thinks that her neck might snap. She thinks that she might be okay with that so long as it takes the pain away.

She curls in on herself. Everything aches. Every single inch of her. She has forgotten what it feels like to not know pain. She has forgotten what it feels like to be comfortable and safe.

She has no one but herself to blame. For antagonizing the wrong people. For filling herself far past the brim with loathing and rage. She has no one but herself to blame and so she thinks that she deserves the suffering she is getting.

On one arm lumps begin to form, they pulsate and ache and occasionally they secrete a poisonous purple fluid. On the other she finds pockmarks and craters. That arm is never exposed. The sight is revolting. It makes her sick, queasy, nauseous.

Her teeth ache too some sharpen, some elongate with her horns. They set her jaw at a bizarre and excruciating angle. She can’t close her mouth without drawing blood. Her eyes burn as well, she isn’t sure what they look like. She doesn’t want to know. She’d sooner claw them out then find out.

And her hair. It falls out in clumps and with a burning sensation upon her scalp. This is suffering, true suffering. And she does it alone. Does it alone with the knowledge that she will always be isolated. She is a monster, and abomination inside and out.

It is all the more reason to cast her curse. She can glamour herself a nice and pretty form--her old face, her old body--and she can finish the job. She will crush the heart of the thing she loves the most. Her body and soul will contort and distort hideously. But her curse will come by, it will steal the magic away and she will have relief. So long as she keeps it maintained, she will never suffer so thoroughly again.

.oOo.

It was different in Storybrooke. But she could still feel it, she could always feel it. Though the magic in Storybrooke was potent enough to keep her form intact. She had expected to wake in her bed and find herself wholly relieved. It wasn’t so; she had woken up and touched her cheek. Had felt smooth and unblemished skin. And the mirror reflected as much. It showed her the face that she had always known. But she could still feel it; each lump, laceration, hole, and horn. The weight was still heavy. Heavier than ever. Heavier and more painful until she had become numb to it.

Her curse is broken now. Broken and she can feel her body twisting back into the abomination it was meant to be. And she is terrified.

Deep down she thinks that she had hoped that someone would see her, that someone would find her lovable. That someone would be there to help her break this affliction. She finds no such person. And her window of opportunity has come to pass.

She steals away into her bedroom and waits for the magic to slam back in full. Likely she will end up sealing herself up in her vault. More likely she will mix herself up her own poisoned apple and give it a good bite.

She would rather succumb to an eternal sleep than go back to the unique brand of suffering that has been tailored just for her. The burning already erupts over her arms. She should get to her vault. With a wave of her aching arms, she finds that her magic doesn’t work. Her heart sinks and she feels faint. She supposes that she can try to make it to her car but she can barely stand let alone make it down the hall, descend a flight of stairs, and across the length of her driveway.

She collapses onto her mattress, ear against the pillow and bunched in on herself.

.oOo.

Emma stuffs here hands into her pockets and exhales as she makes her way up to the former mayor’s porch. She doesn’t particularly fancy doing a wellness check on the Evil Queen, but someone has to do it. At the very least to make sure that she isn’t in the middle of formulating another scheme of sorts.

She rings the bell twice. A third time. She exhales. For a moment she considers turning around and leaving. But an unanswered doorbell is a pretty poor sign. It might be that when she busts into the mansion she will find it vacant. She rather hopes that she does.

She picks the lock and lets herself in. The house smells like Regina, of apples and lavish perfume. But there is something else mixed in. Something copper. Something sick. Emma cringes, she doesn’t like it at all. She hasn’t yet had the ‘pleasure’ of smelling a corpse and, God, does she hope that today won’t be the day.

“Regina!”

Her voice is thrown back at her as she wanders deeper into the mansion. It is mostly spotless, though a very fine layer of dust has begun to settle on the counter. The uneasy fluttering in her tummy grows. Either the house is empty or the woman in it is…

Emma puts her foot on the first step and calls out for Regina again. The woman doesn’t answer. She stands before the door and takes a deep breath. She inhales that scent, that ill odor. It is stronger. And yet she isn’t sure that it is the smell of death, she thinks that the smell of death would be overbearing. Absolutely gag inducing.

“Regina?” She tries again.

“Leave me, Ms. Swan.” Her voice is hoarse. Some of the tension leaves Emma’s body. At least the woman isn’t dead. But she very well could be dying.

“Are you okay?” It is a stupid question, of course she’s not okay. She doesn’t even sound okay.

Her answer is as predictable as Emma would have thought, “I’m fine, Swan. Get out of my mansion.”

But what can she do? Call the sheriff? “Regina, you don’t sound fine…” it is as much warning as she is going to get.

“Swan, don’t you dare.” She snaps as soon as she hears the doorknob turn. It falls ajar. “Emma, please.”

Emma hesitates, swallows, thinks of turning around. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay.” She knows that the woman isn’t. She can hear it. She can sense it. She enters the room. Regina pulls the covers over her head.

“Don’t look, Emma.” She says very quietly. “Please don’t look at me, Emma.” She sounds so tired. So pained.

“Stress isn’t pretty but don’t you think that you’re being a little dramatic?” She quirks a brow and musters a little chuckle.

Regina doesn’t see the humor in it. She never does, she definitely isn’t the joking sort. But she does laugh. And it isn’t a pleasant one. It is just as hoarse as her speech and twice as bitter. “You don’t understand, Swan.”

“Then help me.”

She sees the woman shake her head under the covers. “I don’t want you to. I just want it to end. Leave the door open and let them come for me.”

“Who?”

“Do you think that I don’t know that the whole town wants me dead? They’re in luck; I do too.”

Emma shifts uncomfortably. She should have anticipated that much too. Of course she isn’t taking the breaking of her curse well. She hasn’t even asked to see Henry. It dawns upon her that whatever this thing is...she doesn’t want Henry to see it either. “I don’t want you dead, Regina.”

“I need to be. God, Emma, it hurts so much.”

“What hurts, Regina?”

She is silent for the longest time. And then she reaches one arm out from under the bed. She holds it up for Emma to see. Mostly it is pockmarked and full of holes. In other places it looks raw and scaly--quite literally scaly. She lets it drop, dangling off of the bed. Emma wonders if her whole body is in such a state. She musters up the courage to ask.

“The same or similar.” She goes silent again. “Please end me, Emma. I can’t even move.”

Emma imagines something like a sunburn amplified by ten. She imagines traumatic third degree burns. And then she makes note of the way Regina’s body is twisted. Even under the covers she can tell that the angles are wrong, contorted very agonizingly.

“What happened to you?” Against her better judgement, she takes the woman’s hand.

Regina flinches but she doesn’t jerk away. She isn't’ sure that the woman can jerk away. “I cast my curse to escape a curse...among other things.”

Emma pulls the blankets back before she can stop herself. Before she can even process what she is doing. Regina lays with her right cheek turned up. Emma can’t recognize her face at all. She has the eyes of a serpent. And there are growths, growths like toadstools or, perhaps, treebark. The erupt painfully from her skin. She grits her teeth, some pointed, some elongated, some broken… “Do you understand why I need to die?”

Emma very nearly nods. “I understand why you need help.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m the savior, I promised to help everyone get their happy endings. How do we fix this?”

She thinks that Regina is crying. “We don’t, Emma. You don’t. This can’t be fixed.”

“If there’s one thing I learned about curses, it’s that they can be broken. All of them. And I’ll find a way to break this one.”

“Why?” She husks. “Why would you want to? You hate me more than anyone else in this town. You should anyways.”

“I don’t hate you.” She replies. She certainly had prior to invading the woman’s home but that hatred has given way to pity and concern. To a nagging need to give the woman a chance. “Henry doesn’t hate you. He asked me to come check on you.”

“He did?” Her voice cracks some.

“Yeah, he did.” Emma replies. “So maybe if you hang in there and let me try to figure something out, I can talk Henry into stopping by.”

“No, Emma.” She shakes her head. “He doesn’t need to see this.” She bunches more tightly in on herself and winces.

“Then let me find out how to help you and you can see Henry after that.”

“I can’t, Emma. I can’t do it anymore.” She is crying. Definitely crying.

It has been nearly two weeks since her curse has broken. That is quite a long time to be actively suffering this much. Emma thinks to squeeze her hand but that would probably only hurt her worse. Instead she rests a hand on her back. She can feel the jutting of her spine even through the blankets. “Please try. For Henry. I promise I can help you, I can ask Gold…”

“I already have. I asked him before I cast my curse.”

“There’s got to be something…”

.oOo.

She keeps coming back. No matter how many times she tells her to leave, she keeps coming back. This isn’t out of the ordinary for Swan. In fact it is almost expected. But Regina finds that she doesn’t loath it anymore. More or less, she is growing used to the woman’s presence. She is beginning to think that she would be distraught without it.

Emma takes a seat at the edge of her bed. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted for lunch so I made sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches aren’t lunch food…”

“They are for Henry.”

“Yes, with a fruit, a bag of carrots, and maybe a cookie if he was well behaved that morning.” “It’s PB&J.” Emma hands her the sandwich.

She frowns to herself but she really can’t afford to be choosy. She hasn’t had much of an appetite anyhow. She takes a bite of the sandwich.

“I’ll make pasta for dinner. Does that sound good?”

“Well enough, Swan.”

Emma smiles. “Great. I’ve just been a little busy today, but I didn’t want you to totally miss lunch.”

She supposes that it is nice to know that Swan is thinking of her. That someone has at least a very basic care for her. She sticks to her word and comes back around dinnertime. It should make her happy. Regina isn’t sure why she feels so… She can’t even place the feeling, but it isn’t joyful. She thinks that she almost feels guilty. Guilty for having made the woman’s life so difficult despite her being the exact sort of person who would go out of her way to help everyone.

Her mind wanders back to the woman pulling her out of the fire. To setting her down and declaring, rather frustrated, that she would do it again. The fire is bigger this time. Bigger and raging and it has already burned to the bone.

Emma hands her a plate of pasta. She isn’t hungry in the slightest but she clears it, Emma had gone through the trouble of making it for her. She sets the plate aside and fixes her gaze on the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m still in so much pain that I can’t function properly.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and’?”

“You’re even more upset than usual, I can tell.”

She forces herself to roll onto her side. “I don’t know, Swan.” And that only adds another layer of distress. She finds herself tearry once again. Emma rests a hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t shake her off this time. She finds that it hurts less, if only a little, to have a comforting hand on her shoulder.

.oOo.

Relief creeps in, it takes its time in driving out the pain, but steadily it does. Emma rubs her back, and she does it so lightly, with such care that it doesn’t agitate the sores on her back. It is a small comfort, but a comfort no less. It is a comfort that is becoming routine.

Emma makes a point of stopping by daily, to give her her meals at the very least. Sometimes she stays longer. Sometimes she spends the night. Those nights are the best nights. Those are the nights when she almost doesn’t feel pain anymore.

“Will you stay the night?” She asks.

Emma nods. “I don’t have any plans. I’ll just go home and get my pajamas.”

“You can borrow one of mine. You seemed rather fond of my shirt the last time you stole it.”

Emma chuckles. “It was pretty comfy.”

Regina nods. She pats the other side of her bed. “There’s room if you want to lay down.”

Emma stretches her arms. “That would be fantastic, thanks!” She flops down. “I knew that helping you would come with perks eventually.” She gives one of those goofy, lopsided grins.

It is a joke, she gathers. She tries for a laugh but she isn’t quite sure that she manages. They lay in silence for some time. There is a slight tickle in her tummy as she tries to muster up the courage to finally apologize to the woman for treating her so terribly before. She doesn't quite manage, what comes out instead is, “thank you, Emma.” She clears her throat. “For staying with me and…” she gestures to the empty plates.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles. “I told you that I’m going to give everyone a happy ending, including you. No matter how long that takes.”

Regina smiles. For the first time in so very long, she smiles.

“I think that it’s working.” She takes Regina’s hand.

For the first time in so very long, she doesn’t feel a twitch or a twinge of pain.

#Once Upon A Time #Regina Mills #Emma Swan #Swan Queen #Wump #Fanfiction

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sea-side-scribbles · 4 years

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Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/66113719

Chapter 36

Waking up, Norbert didn't feel very good again. His first reflex was to wipe his throbbing forehead and to moan in pain. Doing that, he wondered if he didn't wake up like this before and why it kept happening. "Norrie," he heard a soft voice soothe him. "Welcome back." Turning his head, Norbert's eyes met Morrie's and he immediately felt much better, resulting in a wide smile he gave his lover.

"Morning, Nick", he suddenly heard Matt's voice say. "Glad to have you back in the real world." Norbert looked around in confusion and found himself lying in their van, supposedly on the way back home. "So, wanna tell us how you turned into a cult leader yesterday, or will you take that to your grave?", Brad added to the conversation. "Well," Norbert began, trying to think about what he was going to say, and clumsily lifted his dizzy head up. Then he felt Morrie's hand on his shoulder.

"Careful, such a flash is really nasty, Virgil told me." Norbert nodded slowly, and with the other boy's help he sat up to lean into the comfy seat. "He's right", he said, rubbing his eyes. "It's awful." He made a pause to let this statement sink in, before he added: "I don't know a thing about yesterday. I don't even know what day it is now." "In short, it's the day we look forward to our bright future," Chris said grinning. "Yesterday we played on the biggest festival we've ever been on, then you vanished and joined the local cult that had a fight with the police and today morning Mr. Dainty had to bail you out. Ring any bells?" Norbert closed his eyes. It was exhausting to remember, but deep inside he knew it happened.

"Now that you say it...but why am I flashed again?" He glanced around and found that Morrie suddenly had a meek expression on his face. "Well...your new friends came back. The cult, I mean," he explained, avoiding eye contact. "Really now?," Brad played upset, "You had another party and didn't invite us? Nicky, I'm disappointed, I thought we're a team." "You can't be serious," Morrie shyness was gone. "It's bad enough when Nick drugs himself into oblivion whenever he has the chance!" "I'm not drugging myself," Norbert pointed out. "They tricked me." "Yeah right," Chris laughed. "Nicky, our little innocent, can't even tell cocaine from grape sugar." "I'm glad this is over," Morrie said before Norbert could protest. "They won't follow us all the way home, especially not on foot."

"Why on foot?", Norbert asked. "What if some of them can drive?" It was silent for a moment. "Just look outside," Matt advised him. "Huh?" Norbert did as he was told and at first he didn't notice anything. There was no contraflow at the moment, what was a bit weird. A second later he noticed the street was completely empty besides their van. "So...they really sent away all the cars...", he concluded, seeing foggy images of a stuffed street in his mind. "What will happen to ours?" "We have to hand it in, as soon as we're home," Morrie explained. "Really?" He nodded. "Ask Mr. Dainty."

Norbert searched the front seats now, where he was surprised to see his manager sitting next to their driver. Virgil gave him an apologizing look and said: "It's true. I can't help it. But don't worry, we won't need it anymore." "Oh...Okay..." Norbert fell silent. Thinking about all this made him really tired. He felt like the world around him had changed completely, including himself. Morrie gave him a worried look and whispered: "Are you alright?" Diving into his lover's eyes, Norbert found his smile again. One thing didn't change at all, and it filled his heart with warmth.

Their travel to Wellington Wells was way more comfortable than their outward run. It felt a bit eerie to see all these empty streets they swept across, but like this, they arrived at Britannia Bridge in only a few hours. Norbert wondered if they would simply go back into their house and continue their old life with small concerts in small pubs, when suddenly their travel was distracted by a group of people that was blocking the street in Hamlyn Village. "A parade? Just now?", he blurted out. They looked out of the windows, trying to figure out what was going on. Eddie blew the horn and made his way through the crowd. They didn't seem to mind their car though. Instead, they followed it.

"Look at this, the last car in Wellington Wells," Morrie muttered to himself while Norbert eyed the banners they were holding. Suddenly, he jumped. "They want us!" Now everyone tensed. "You can park up there," Virgil said to Eddie, and when they came to a halt he told the band: "Follow me."

Exiting the van, Norbert stared at the gathering they had caused. It was like a dream. Just after he had set foot on the pavement, a reporter and her cameraman planted themselves in front of him, talking eagerly into her microphone. "And there he is, the golden voice of the Make Believes, Nick Lightbearer. You just got home from probably the biggest music event of the year. How do you feel right now?" She held out her microphone to him without a warning. "Uh...I...I don't know how to feel about it yet. Honestly I can't believe it happened...", he stuttered. "It was quite a wild night for you, so we've heard. Do you like to tell the viewers a few things? What really happened?" "I...uh...I can only say you shouldn't believe everything you hear and read..." "But there's a tiny bit of truth in all this, am I right?" "Uh..." Norbert paused.

Suddenly Morrie barged in: "Just leave him alone with that stupid story, will ya? Is there nothing else you want to know?" The reporter seemed to be rather pleased with Morrie's appearance. "And there's Morrie Memento," she said into the camera, "who had been keeping an eye on Nick in the last few days." She turned back to Morrie. "Is it hard to watch out for a walking mess like him?" "What do you mean by that?" He wasn't willing to cooperate. "Wasn't it you who saved Nick out of the cultists' clutches?" Now Morrie paused.

"Yes, it was him," Norbert stepped back in, grabbing his lover by the shoulders. "You should've seen him! If looks could kill..." Morrie shoved him away from the microphone. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we're in a hurry." He kept on shoving Nick, making his way through the crowd into an empty alley. There he let out his anger. "What was that supposed to be? She layed out the bait and you took it!" "Oh, come on Morrie, play along a bit! Leave them their story and enjoy the attention!", Norbert tried to cheer him up, but Morrie turned away and crossed his arms. "I don't know if I want that particular kind of attention." Norbert walked closer so he could whisper to him: "And besides, imagining you as my protector is quite hot." He liked to see a spark lighting up in his lover's eyes. "It's time we get back home.", Morrie said, trying to sound casual. "Where are the others?"

Shortly after, Virgil appeared, followed by the rest of the band. "There you are. Are you okay?", he asked them and they quickly affirmed. "I booked hotel rooms for you, for the time until I've found a better solution. Your, well, house, isn't save enough anymore," he added. "Just follow me, it's not far." "Why don't we keep our old house and repair it?", Morrie asked. "I'm afraid that's above our budget right now." "Oh...okay." The hotel wasn't as neat as the one they had before, but it's roof was intact at least. "The windows are burglarproof, just in case. And you better leave the doors locked," Virgil explained with a smirk. "You thought of everything," Norbert said in an admiring tone. "That's what I'm here for," Virgil answered softly. "So, before we part for now, is there anything planned for the next days? Some new concerts?" "We're in the pub again next Saturday. That's all," Brad told him. "Alright, I'll be there."

In their hotel room Norbert quietly sat down on the bed. His mind was still dizzy from simply everything. Morrie carefully sat next to him. His anger had vanished and there was nothing but love in his voice when he asked: "Does it still hurt, Norrie?" Norbert gave him a faint smile. "A bit," he sighed. "Then take one of these..." Morrie handed him a pill. "Virgil recommends them. He says they help after a flash." Norbert gladly took it, then he rested his head on his lover's shoulder. "What a day...", he whispered. "Amen to that."

"I guess I brought a lot of trouble upon you...", Norbert began an apology and rubbed his cheek against his lover's shoulder, until Morrie leaned his head against his. "The second time, it wasn't your fault," he said in a soft voice. "It was bad luck. Or maybe just luck." Norbert chuckled. Morrie didn't join him. "I was careless," he went on, "I shouldn't have chained you to that bed. It was too dangerous. These people could've done who knows what to you..." His voice broke. "They're nice, just as I said," Norbert said calmly. "They're no cult. Just some friendly people who like to party." Morrie gulped. He wrapped his arms around Norbert and hugged him tightly. "I'll never chain you up again," he promised, buried into Norbert's shirt. "Oh, Morrie..." "No, it's true! I want to protect you! I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you! You're my life!" Norbert moaned, pressing a hand against his chest. "Oh dear, my heart..." He turned to look deeply into his lover's brown eyes. "Don't feel guilty. You're doing so much for me. I'm so happy to be yours." With that, he softly kissed the other boy's lips.

"Will you watch out?" Morrie asked before he kissed him back. "For you?" They covered each other's faces with kisses as they spoke. "No, for you." Norbert chuckled again. "And maybe stop taking other people's candy," his lover added. "I think I can manage that...", Norbert answered, kissing a trail down Morrie's neck. "You...promise?" "I promise." Norbert's hands ran up and down Morrie's back. "I love you, Morrie," he whispered. "I love you too, you little troublemaker." That night, they loved each other very gently. There were no punishments, only love confessions and the bright future they were looking forward to. Everything seemed to be possible, as long as they stayed together.

The next days happened to be very busy again. Virgil surprised them with a call in the morning, saying that he had made an appointment with a recording studio, and they had two days to create an album. The studio was located in the Parade District, and even getting there and walking along the boulevards made them feel like stars. They had never been in this District before, and all of a sudden they were right there, seemingly without any efforts. Virgil had made that possible. On the contrary, working in the studio itself was very exhausting. They created take after take and nobody wanted to have any long breaks. They barely slept. In the end, they had ten songs, and multiple takes of each, and no audience to cheer them up. Norbert didn't know if he would ever get used to that weird atmosphere, but he knew he had no choice. And the image of having an album with their names on it was a great motivator. After these two days Norbert felt like he had spend at least a year in there. His old life felt so far away when he fell back into his hotel bed, ready to sleep for forever. Morrie fell down beside him and all they could to was cuddling, before the fell asleep.

The slept for a long time. Morrie, as usually, was the first to awake. When Norbert finally opened his eyes, he glanced into the bright smile of Uncle Jack. Morrie was watching his show that was getting more and more popular. He had turned down the volume so that his lover could sleep. "Good morning, honey," Norbert muttered out of his sheets, causing the other boy to turn around. "Hey, Norrie," he said and leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Did you sleep well?" Norbert sat up, hugging his lover from behind. "I just had the weirdest dream. We've recorded our own tape. It even sounded quite decent." Morrie patted Norbert's arms. "Funny, I had the same dream. And the way things are going, so had Uncle Jack." He pointed at the TV. "This is insane," Norbert sighed into Morrie's ear. "We have a gig tonight, in the pub, you remember?" "Oh, man...that place still exists?" "I hope so. Was a nice place after all." "Yeah..."

For once, Norbert was glad that he could look forward to something familiar. Something he could wrap his mind around. He had the feeling it was lagging miles behind the last events. "Finally some normality, right?", he said and began to stroke Morrie's shoulders. Morrie leaned into the touch. "I miss our house," he whispered, sounding weepy. "Why?" Norbert asked while his hands moved down his lover's back. "In here, we don't have to turn the radio on every time we want to play." Morrie chuckled. "You sure nobody can hear us?" Norbert placed a kiss on his lover's neck. "Turn the sound back on, if you're afraid." "No," Morrie decided and turned the TV off. "This is just distracting." They were indeed quiet, also because they were still tired.

Later, they left the hotel to buy some coffee and sandwiches. It was their usual diet anyway, since their money didn't last out for more. Nobody recognised them on the streets and no reporters with probing questions awaited them. Norbert wondered if that was because they didn't wear their colorful suits, or if everything was back to normal again.

He noticed how far away from normal he was when they finally went to their pub. Looking at the people who where standing outside they wondered if they had misread the date and the pub was still closed. But then they went inside and saw that it was simply full. They met Virgil who looked very pleased. "Hello you two, how are you?" "Just great...This is...incredible," Norbert answered, eyeing the crowd. "Just keep a cool head, okay?" "Alright." When Norbert was about to leave, Virgil held him back. It felt very familiar, but not in a good way. "Can I have a word with you?" "Uh...okay." Norbert stayed, feeling not that great anymore. He patted Morrie's shoulders as a send-off, before he sat down at Virgil's table.

"What is it?" "I'm sorry if I repeat myself, but how do you feel?", his manager asked in a more serious tone and gave him a look that wasn't judging, but rather honestly interested. Norbert was puzzled about the question. "I feel a bit overwhelmed right now but I'll make it." He laughed nervously. "Is something wrong?" "Ah...perhaps it's nothing," Virgil said soothingly. "At the festival, I had the impression that you were...well, a bit restrained. Perhaps it was the excitement, perhaps something else." He gave Norbert a sympathetic glance. "I only want to say that you don't need to hold back. If anything, you can come out of your shell. Don't be shy. Just look around. They love you." He winked. "I know you can do it." Norbert was more and more afraid to blush. Enduring all these compliments from Virgil demanded a lot of self-control from him. "It was the excitement," he assured the man. "Today I'll totally go into overdrive, I promise." "I don't mean to stress you out, Nick. Try to forget that I'm here." "You don't stress me, Mr. Dainty. I had much worse listeners." He was in a very good mood when they parted, sure to show himself at his best.

Strutting into the room they used as dressing room, he bumped into Morrie, who pulled him into a bear hug. "Hi there," Norbert giggled. "Did you miss me?" "You have no idea. Every time you stay with our manager something bad happens," Morrie said into his shirt. "Not today, my love." Morrie searched his gaze. "Can you promise me something?", he quietly asked. "Everything, Morrie. What is it?" "There's a lot of new people here, mostly female. You know, the sort you attracted at the festival. Just be careful, okay? Restrain yourself." "What do you mean?", Norbert digged deeper, sensing that he already knew the answer.

"Don't...flirt with them, okay? Less eye contact, and less dancing." Norbert felt a sting in his chest when he heard that. "I thought you like my moves." "I do, but a lot of others do too. The birds, I mean." "But that's exactly what we need!" Morrie shook his head. "No, it's only causing trouble. Don't you get that?" "Our show was not the reason..." His lover interrupted him. "Norrie, all I'm asking for is a little more caution," Morrie pleaded. "Just...let the music speak to them. Your voice sounds so much better when you're not moving." Norbert opened his mouth but couldn't come up with an answer. "Do you think you can manage?" Norbert gulped down many thoughts he had right now. "I...guess," he said instead and earned another hug from Morrie.

When his lover was gone to do the soundcheck on stage Norbert was doubtfully standing around, clutching his guitar as if it could help him. A sense of helplessness took over him. He needed a plan before entering the stage, because after that there was no turning back. But he had no idea what to do. Virgil or Morrie. He didn't want to hold back, he wanted to give all he had to make this work, just like everyone else in the band. But Morrie... He didn't want another fight with him. He knew his lover was jealous, and he had all the rights to be.

His hands started shivering. This wasn't good. He needed them to be steady, so he tried to calm himself down by counting to ten in his mind and breathing slowly. When he was at six, he was still upset and afraid it wouldn't work. And when he felt he was about to waste away in that room Chris entered it, with the thrill of anticipation written in his face. Norbert looked at him and in this very moment he was already infected. "Hey, superstar. Ready to give them show they'll never forget?" Norbert smiled widely when he came to his desicion. "Oh, yes", he said. It sounded like a confession. "Then let's go!" He waved at him and Norbert - no - Nick Lightbearer followed him outside.

#wehappyfew #we happy few #whf #whfnick #whf nick #nick lightbearer #morrie memento #whfmorrie #whf morrie

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donteattheappleshook · 4 years

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Of Cars and Bars Chapter 12/14

Ready to find out what happened between Emma and Killian five years ago?

As always, thank you Krystal @kmomof4 for all of your amazing beta work and for just being a lovely person. This story exists because of and is dedicated to you! (Thanks for the support even though I keep making you angry with all the angst!)

Summary:

Rated E

When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago.

This started out as a smutty two shot about Emma Ruby and Mary Margaret going on a road trip and has evolved into a slow-burn mutual pining angst-fest.

Read it from the beginning on Ao3 and Ffn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Chapter 12 - Falling Slowly

Well, you have suffered enough / And warred with yourself / It's time that you won / Take this sinking boat and point it home / We've still got time

Five years ago

Killian burst into Liam’s room, ignoring the way his brother cursed, the way Belle shouted at him to 'get the hell out', 'what time is it?'. He didn’t care. He walked up to the hotel room bed and threw the sheet music onto their annoyed, half-asleep forms.

“What the fuck is this?” Liam demanded, picking up the pages and frowning at him, looking like he was a second away from murdering him.

“A song,” Killian said. He couldn’t contain his grin, he was too happy. His heart was light, his chest full in the best way, every one of his muscles was singing with excitement and adrenaline.

“I can bloody well see that,” Liam snapped. “But why do you feel the need to throw it at me at -” he looked at the clock beside him. “For fuck’s sake, Killian, six in the morning?”

“I couldn't sleep,” he told them. He’d been up all night, too happy, too ansty, lyrics and music dancing around in his head, begging to be written, filling him with the kind of joy he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So you decided none of us should?” It was Belle this time and she sounded just as annoyed as his brother, like she wanted him dead - and she was more likely to do it, he mused.

“I think this could be it,” he said. “I think this could be that hit that the producer was looking for.”

They’d been approached by a music producer, an agent who was interested in them, liked their sound, liked their vibe. But he’d said there was something missing. They needed something more, a real hit, something that would pull at heartstrings and make people want to dance and cover it and would make critics sing its praises as ‘real music’.

It had been a ridiculously high, stupid bar to set, one they thought was impossible, and Killian didn’t want to toot his own horn but he was pretty sure he’d done it - somehow. Not somehow, he knew exactly how.

Liam looked at the pages in his hand and Killian saw the moment his expression turned from annoyed to impressed, to hopeful. He handed the pages to Belle. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain blonde woman who lured you off the stage last night would it?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“It has everything to do with her,” he answered honestly. It did. She… Emma, even thinking about her sent a thrill through him, made his heart pound, made his breath catch. She’d come into his life out of nowhere, had brightened it, had made him suddenly want to write again, had made him want to love again. He didn’t know if he would ever be capable of it again, not after Milah. But between the car and the bar and being with her in that dressing room, her promising to meet him today… it gave him hope. Hope that he could love again, hope that he wasn’t broken, that he would find that happiness again, the one he thought he’d lost forever.

It was far too soon, far too quick, he knew that. But he couldn’t help it. The second he’d seen her there, angry and glaring at the road and then the way her whole face had lit up, the way she’d smiled at him on the dance floor, the way she’d touched him, the way she’d challenged him, the way she’d responded to him when they were together. He just - he knew. It was as simple as that. He knew that he could love her and that if he did, he would love her forever.

Liam was eyeing him warily. “Be careful, Killian.”

Killian ignored him. He didn’t have time for Liam’s pessimism, for his caution. He’d spent enough time being cautious, enough time guarding his heart. It was time to let himself believe that he could have love again, to let himself believe that he deserved it.

“I’ve gotta go,” he told him, dismissing his warning with a wave of his hand. “Share that with the guys, will you? I’ll see you at the show tonight."

“Where are you going?” Liam demanded.

Killian smiled. “I’ve got a date!” He slammed the door behind him.

He was early. Way too early. His date wasn’t until noon. He circled the block a few times, walked through the streets of New York, got to know them a little, but he couldn’t let himself stray too far. What if she arrived early too and got scared and changed her mind? So he stayed near, circling, until finally, at 8 he gave up and went inside the cafe. Whatever, he would order a dozen coffees and wait around until noon. He didn’t care. He was too nervous.

His leg bounced under him as his mind raced, remembering the night before, remembering the way she’d felt in his arms and under his hands but also, more than that, the way she’d smiled at him up on stage, the way she’d laughed at him in the car, the way she’d danced with him, the way she’d kissed him before leaving last night.

He got up, asked the barista if he could have some paper and a pen. She handed him some old order sheets, blank on one side and a sparkly pink pen, apologizing and saying it was the only one she could find.

“It’s perfect,” he told her. The smile she gave him was shy and a little flirtatious. If it had been any other day, any other morning before this one, he’d have flirted with her, smiled at her and maybe even asked for her number. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not when he knew that any minute - any hour, he reminded himself - Emma would walk through that door.

He returned to his table with another coffee - that was probably a bad idea considering the jitters that were already running through his system, but he liked it, liked this excitement and anxiety - the good kind, the kind he hadn’t felt in years. He wrote. He was having trouble stopping. He thought of her, of her forwardness and her brazenness and how strong she’d been and the tiny, miniscule bit of vulnerability he’d been allowed to see, thought of the shade of her hair and the curve of her face and he wrote.

He wrote three more songs before he looked up, the bell above the door ringing as someone walked in. It wasn’t her. That was okay, it was still only 11:30. He looked at his phone. He wished he’d gotten her number - idiot, he thought. But she had his. He waited, doodling on the edges of the page.

11:45. 12:00. 12:15. He checked his phone again. She had his number. Would she call if she was running late? 12:30. 1:00. 1:30. The energy that had been rushing through him started to diffuse, like air from a balloon. 2 oclock. Dozens of people came in and out of the shop, the barista brought him more coffees and with each one her smile grew sadder, sympathy clear on her lips. Was it that obvious? Was it written across his face that he was waiting for someone, someone who wasn’t showing up.

He made excuses, she’d gotten lost, she’d gone to the wrong coffee shop, she’d had to leave early… but she didn’t call, she didn’t text. He waited another two hours, and then another two more. At six oclock, he finally gave up, crumpling the bits of paper, the songs, in his fist. He walked over to the barista again, handed them to her.

“Throw this out for me would you?” he asked before walking out the door.

Present Day

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, trying to avoid waking up as long as possible. Her head hurt, she had expected that, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. No, that wasn’t what was worrying her about waking up. What was worrying her was the leather that was under her cheek, sticking to her face and probably leaving creases, and the warm breath on the back of her neck, the arm slung heavy across her waist.

Killian. He was still here. She couldn’t understand how he hadn’t run away after her embarrassing display last night, after she shunned him then tried to molest him and then dumped all of her emotional baggage on him. But she knew he couldn’t stay. There was no way anyone would stay after that - not for her, never for her.

If she shut her eyes, forced herself back to sleep then she wouldn’t have to be awake for the moment when he eventually woke up, realised what a terrible, terrible mistake he’d made getting involved with a mess like her and snuck out of his own room and out of her life. She was used to that, used to being left behind. She’d survived it with Neal and she would - probably - survive it with Killian. Probably not, but she’d have to.

She felt him stir behind her, heard his sharp intake of breath as he froze for a moment. Here we go, she thought. He breathed out heavily, the sound relieved, his muscles relaxing. The arm that was around her waist tightened a fraction and her eyes blinked open. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he bolting? She’d given him every reason to. His nose buried into her hair, he pressed his lips to her neck and she turned in his arms, frowning at his still half-asleep face. He smiled at her, one of those big, almost disbelieving smiles that made his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“You stayed,” he said and her heart started to race in her chest.

“I stayed?” she asked in disbelief. She stayed? Why wouldn’t she stay?

“I worried that you’d… regret what you said last night.” His eyes widened then. “Do you remember what you said?”

Did she remember? Did he? She’d poured her goddamn heart out to him last night, told him she wanted to be with him, told him all of her damage and her baggage and her fears… why had he stayed? Her chest tightened.

“I remember,” she said and the look of relief that crossed his face was a little heartbreaking. But so was the insecurity, the doubt.

“Emma, if you didn’t mean it - if you’ve changed your mind I-” He was giving her an out, she could tell. Maybe she should have jumped on it, taken it as a chance to run, to get away from this terrifying situation, from the possibility of letting herself love him and of letting herself be hurt. But he stayed. He stayed despite all the terrible things he’d learned about her and now he was afraid that she’d regret it, that she’d run.

She couldn’t blame him. She’d given him plenty of reasons to think she would. And that was when she realised… he hadn’t given her any reason to think he would run. He’d stayed tonight, yes, but he’d also stayed despite all the times she’d pushed him away since they met again two months ago. He stayed despite the fact that she’d run once before. She was an idiot. How in the hell had she ever doubted him?

“I don’t regret it,” she said and the worry left his eyes so quickly that it hurt, but it also made her smile a little, the corner of her mouth turning up as his did.

“And, um,” he scratched that spot behind his ear. “Do you remember what I said?”

She nodded, could feel her cheeks warming. “You said you were in this for the long haul.” He looked shy, still that bit of uncertainty but he met her eyes with an earnestness that sent her blood racing.

“I mean it, Emma,” he promised. “I want this. I want you. If you don’t, please tell me now because I don’t think I could take it if you changed your mind.”

“Warts and all?” she asked, only half-joking.

He laughed. “Warts and all.”

“You don’t…” It was getting harder to look at him so she settled for looking at his chest instead, fiddled with the pendants hanging there. “... mind them?” she finished lamely.

“I like your warts,” he said.

“Ew.”

He poked her in the side and she squirmed away. He didn’t let her go though. “I mean, that your past doesn’t scare me. I’m honored that you shared it with me. All it is is another part of you, another part of what made you who you are… and I’m quite fond of that woman.”

She smiled, finally meeting his eyes again. He wasn’t lying. “I…” Ugh. Words. “I like your warts too.”

He gave her an amused, affectionate grin. “Then are we doing this? Are we trying?”

She nodded, not wanting to stumble over words anymore and brought his face to hers. She kissed him and his hand came to her cheek, his touch gentle and sweet and she could feel his lips curling under her own. When she pulled back there was an expression she couldn’t read on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“I just - I was so afraid that you’d run again,” he confessed and the words were like a lead weight on her heart. He had every right to think that. But she’d run so many times in her life, not just from him, from everyone. And she was tired of it. She’d always been willing to lose the things she ran from before. But not now, not him.

“I already made that mistake once,” she said and she heard his intake of breath. They hadn’t ever talked about it, he hadn’t brought it up, but she couldn’t pretend it didn’t hang over them like some giant betrayal, a giant broken promise that gave him every right to doubt her, to never believe a thing she said again.

“Five years ago I-”

“Emma,” he said and she knew he was going to let her get away with it, dismiss it. But she couldn’t let him. He deserved better.

“No, let me finish. Five years ago I got scared because I was afraid of how much I liked you - even back then. And all I’ve ever done was run, so I ran away and I’m sorry. I don’t want to do that again.” She turned her eyes to him and he was looking at her with that softness that was so often on his face when he looked at her, when she tried to talk about her feelings - poorly. “I regretted it, you know. The second I got home.”

He gave her a surprised, hesitant smile, his eyebrow ticking up, and then kissed her again. “I forgive you,” he told her, because he knew that’s what she needed to hear. She took a moment to once again be amazed by how well he understood her.

“But, um,” he cleared his throat. “Now I’ll have to ask you to forgive me as well.” She looked at him in surprise - what could he possibly have to apologize for? “I broke our agreement.”

She raised a brow at him. “What agreement?”

“I wrote a song about you.” A smile tugged at her lips and she watched as the hesitation on his face turned to relief and then a little bit of that teasing glint she liked so much. “In my defence, I wrote it before we agreed to those terms.”

“When did you write it?” she asked, but she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

“Five years ago.” He looked at her nervously and she smiled, feeling almost shy but her heart raced in her chest, hoping she was right, a little afraid that she was right, but choosing hope, choosing happiness over the fear.

“Liam didn’t write your first hit, did he?”

“He wishes.”

She laughed and could feel the warmth spreading through her as he gave her another one of those smiles.

“Well, I guess you’re forgiven since you didn’t technically break the rules,” she allowed. He rolled them over suddenly and she was on her back with him hovering over her, his face bright and happy.

“I hope you’re in a forgiving mood then, because I’ve written about six more since.”

She laughed even as he brought his mouth down over hers and she reached for his shirt, pulling him down so she could wrap her arms around him and so that he could kiss her properly like he’d refused to last night. She moved to wrap her legs around his and squealed as she nearly had her toes squished.

“Are you wearing shoes in my bed?” she demanded, realising that he was still dressed in his coat and his boots.

“If you recall, you lured me into your bed last night fully clothed.” She scoffed, lured.

“Take those off. You’ll get the sheets dirty.”

He sighed dramatically, making a show of rolling his eyes.

“And so it begins. We’ve only been dating ten minutes and you’re already telling me what to do?”

She didn’t bother to hide her smile at the casual way he said ‘dating’. She couldn’t have if she wanted to. She liked the way it sounded way, way too much. He conceded though and rolled back off of her, onto his back so he could kick them off. He threw her a mischievous grin, one eyebrow raised as he looked at her over his shoulder. “Anything else you’d like me to remove while I’m at it?”

She wanted to laugh but stopped herself, cocking her head at him instead. She turned onto her side, propping her head up on her knuckles. “Well, that jacket feels a little overdressed,” she said casually. The smirk he gave her was sinful before he shrugged it off his shoulders.

“Better?” She raised one shoulder dismissively. “What?”

“I’ve never been a fan of that shirt, honestly.” That was a lie. He looked really, really good in that shirt. But he would look much better out of it.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, pulling at the front and glancing down at it. She bit her lip to hide her smile as he pulled it over his head, messing his hair up in the best way.

“Much better,” she said as she reached for his belt and used it to drag him back over to her. He laughed at her that way that he always did when she got a little eager - and she was eager. It was hard not to be when he looked like that and he went around talking about how they were dating and how he was in this for the long haul.

He didn’t get to say anything as she got up on her knees with him and slanted her lips over his, grabbing hold of that soft, lovely hair and holding him against her. He was happy to comply, his hands coming to her back, sliding under her shirt, his fingers warm against her skin and causing goosebumps to break out where he touched her.

She pushed her hips against him, wanting him closer, needing that confirmation that he wanted her as much as she did him and he groaned, hands sliding down to her ass, squeezing and pulling her against his already hardening erection. Lust shot through her and she pushed him down onto his back, and threw a leg over his hips so that she could sit astride him.

“You’re being very pushy,” he commented, an amused smile on his lips.

“Aren’t girlfriends allowed to be?” she teased and her heart stopped when his brows shot up.

“Girlfriends?” he asked and she felt her face flush.

“Shut up,” she said, leaning down and sealing her lips to his so that he couldn’t make another teasing remark if he tried. He groaned under her, his hand finding its way back to her ass and the other into her hair as he very happily let her keep him quiet. “I like it,” he said as she moved to trail kisses down his neck, his breath hitching when she reached a particularly sensitive spot. His fingers had found their way under the material of her panties, inching closer and closer to where she was already desperate for him.

“What’s that?” she asked, growing more confident as his breathing continued to become more laboured under her mouth on his neck and her hands on his chest, his stomach, his hips. “Me calling myself your girlfriend or me being pushy?”

He let out a choked sound when her hands reached a little lower. “Both,” he said, the word caught in his throat. Oh really? she thought. That could be fun. His hands came up to her sides, one wrapping around her waist as he started to sit up, probably to flip them over but she stopped him.

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down against the pillows. “No,” she said, holding him down to make sure he’d stay there. He raised an eyebrow at her in question, in challenge really and she held firm until he conceded, dropping his hands back to his sides.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want him in control - she loved it really. But he was always taking care of her, always putting her first, generous and considerate. And last night he’d taken care of her in a whole new way, one she wasn’t used to. She couldn’t return that favor now in kind but she could certainly return it in other ways - thank him in other ways. She needed to remember to put him first sometimes. That was part of being a girlfriend right?

Right now though, all she could focus on was the way he was watching her, with nervous excitement and desire. And on the length of him hard under his jeans, pressed against her where their hips met - she was pretty focused on that too.

She pulled her shirt over her head, mostly so that she could watch the way his eyes darkened, the way his teeth bit down on his lip and his hips pushed up against hers just a fraction. His hand came up to reach for her and she smacked it away nearly laughing as he pouted. He looked like he was gonna say something, like he was gonna change his mind about liking her pushy, but she rolled her hips over his and his head fell back and then he didn’t look like he could think much of anything, let alone say it.

She did it a few more times, revelled in the way he cursed softly under his breath, and she fought the urge to just rip his pants off now and let him sink into her. She leaned down, not stopping the motion of her hips, a slow, steady grind as she restarted her assault on his neck, licking and sucking and nipping at the skin there until he swore again.

She trailed her lips down his chest, finally having to stop rocking against him so that she could slide down lower, press open mouth kisses to the spot under his belly button, to each of his hip bones. He really had a habit of wearing his pants ridiculously low. She could see his hands fisting at his sides, his knuckles white, his chest heaving as she teased the skin above the denim waistband. She looked up at him coyly and a thrill ran through her. He looked wrecked and she’d barely even started.

“I don’t know if I’m crazy about these jeans either,” she said casually as she trailed a finger over them, over the hard ridge of him pressing against the material.

“Get rid of them,” he insisted and the desperation and the urgency in his voice made her laugh. Apparently he’d lost the ability to banter back. She waited, ran her hand over him a few more times, barely touching, light enough to nearly drive him crazy as she watched his jaw clench. “Swan, please,” he whined and she took pity on him. She was supposed to be thanking him after all.

She undid the buckle of his belt and the button of his jeans, slid the zipper down until she could see him, spilling out of his pants, hard and straining. Fucking hell.

“Emma w-” his words caught in his throat, turning into a strangled moan when she dragged her tongue along the length of him. “Fuck,” he panted, hand coming up to fist in her hair. She loved seeing him like this, seeing him desperate and needy and out of control. He had her like this so often - it was nice to be reminded that she had the same effect on him.

She slid his pants further down his legs, enough so that she could take hold of him. She waited, her mouth a breath away until he looked at her. She felt a stirring in her gut both at the way he looked at her and at the words she was about to say. “You were a real gentleman last night,” she told him, her hand sliding slowly up and down. “You took such good care of me.” She sped up the pace, watched as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “But you’re not gonna be now,” she said and his eyes snapped open, widened as he stared at her. “You’re gonna sit there and watch while I suck you off. You’re gonna let me take care of you.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” he groaned and his words sent a fresh wave of lust and heat to her core, had her pressing her thighs together to try relieve the ache. She kept up the movement of her hand, brought him to her lips as she watched him watch her, saw the heady desire in his eyes.

“Got it?” she asked, waiting for an answer before she did anything, before she gave him what he wanted.

“Yes,” he cried, half whisper, half moan and she took him into her mouth. “Fuck. Fuck,” he called out as she licked and sucked at him, taking more of him in before pulling back and swirling her tongue around the head of him. His hand fisted in her hair, hard enough to hurt and she felt a sort of pride at reducing the eloquent Killian Jones to a few monosyllables and curses.

God, she wanted him. But this wasn’t about her. Well, it was a tiny bit, she mused as she looked up again to see his eyes fixed on her, to see the way he was staring at her like she was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. It made her feel like she was, and to know how much he wanted her, how good she could make him feel was a heady combination.

She’d kept her pace fairly slow, drawing it out until she heard his whimpered “Emma, Emma please. I need -” He hadn’t finished his sentence, his eyes screwing shut and his mouth falling open as he gasped, his hand pulling at her hair now. She gave in, she’d teased him enough. She pulled him deeper into her mouth, hollowed her cheeks as she sucked and bobbed her head faster, letting him sink further with each drag.

He was still watching, still doing his best to anyway, but his eyes kept screwing shut, his lids heavy when they were open as his breathing became more erratic. She felt his hips thrust up into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat before he caught himself. She thrilled that he’d lost control, even if just for a second.

“Fuck, Swan, yes. Gods, you feel so good,” he rambled desperately. She loved how vocal he was. Even that first time, the way he spoke, the dirty, filthy things he let roll off his tongue while he fucked her had turned her on more than anyone had managed to before. “I want to -” he stopped, swallowed the words. She pulled back, let her hand take over, kept up the pace as she looked at him.

“You want to what?” she insisted, refusing to give him back her mouth until he answered, despite the subtle way his hand in her hair kept trying to nudge her back. “Tell me.”

“Fuck, I want to come in your mouth,” he cried. “I want to come down your throat and feel you swallow it.” Emma moaned, she actually moaned, his words sending a wave of heat straight to her clit, a fresh shock of desire soaking the fabric of her underwear. She’d done it. She’d conquered the gentleman.

He was looking at her, waiting, his face starting to look nervous, shocked like he couldn’t believe what he’d said. She brought his cock to her lips and let her tongue dart out, meeting his eye as she swiped over the tip, watching the way his darkened before she slid her mouth back over him, sucking and licking and pumping, setting a punishing pace.

She could feel how close he was, felt him harden and swell under her tongue and she pushed forward, let him sink to the back of her throat, hit it once, twice before he came with a hoarse shout, holding her against him for just a fraction of a second too long as his whole body tensed before he relaxed and his hand fell from her hair.

She released him, smiling proudly as she rolled over onto the bed beside him looking over at where he was laying. He looked absolutely ruined, naked and panting with his head still thrown back against the pillow, eyes shut tight and breath passing roughly through his parted lips. She loved how he looked when he was like this. He was gorgeous, indecent and rakish and she bit her lip, thighs rubbing together to try and calm the ache his appearance stirred in her. Maybe that hadn’t totally made them even for him punching Neal in the face for her and taking care of her all night, but she thought it was pretty fucking close.

He looked over at her finally, his head flopping over onto its side against the pillow, his eyes only half open. “That was…”

She raised an eyebrow teasingly at him. “Oh, I could tell.”

He reached for her weakly and she let him pull her to him, let him catch her lip between his, open under her and let his tongue slide slowly and lazy over her own. “You’re amazing,” he sighed as he pulled back and she laughed against his next kiss. Sated Killian was absolutely adorable and she’d only just begun to realise it, had only just started to stick around long enough to see him in his soft, almost drunken glory.

She’d been an idiot, missing out on so many things because she was scared, missing out on getting to know him, on seeing all these new sides of him. She liked every new bit that he revealed to her. And the bits she wasn’t crazy about, she still found endearing because they were uniquely him, because they made up the man that she’d finally allowed herself to admit she wanted in her life - indefinitely.

His kiss became more insistent, the hand on her cheek tilting her face, letting him open her mouth wider under his, his tongue tasting and exploring her mouth with deep, deliberate strokes and she moaned against his lips. He rolled her onto her back before she knew what was happening, his hand sliding down to her breast, teasing her nipple into a stiff peak as she whimpered and arched into his touch. She felt his smile against her lips just before he pulled away to pay attention to her neck.

“Killian, you don’t -” she tried to say but she was cut off by the gasped ‘oh’ that left her when his fingers trailed down, his mouth taking their place over her breast, rolling the rosy bud under his tongue. “You don’t have to,” she managed to force the words out. “That’s not what this was about,” she tried to explain.

“Hush, Swan,” he said, his fingers trailing over her hip now, groping at her ass sliding under the fabric, nails biting briefly at her flesh before trailing back around to the front, toying with the elastic. “This is what boyfriends do,” he said seriously, but she could feel his smile against her skin and her heartbeat picked up at the word ‘boyfriend’. She felt like a high schooler but in the absolute best way. Her heart practically stopped when his fingers dipped down into her panties, to where she was already hot and desperate for his touch.

“Bloody hell, Emma,” he cursed. “You’re soaked.” She could only nod, tongue coming out to wet her lip when he teased her entrance, then slid slippery fingers up to her sensitive nub, circling it slowly. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked with awe and lust heavy in his voice as he continued his feather-light touch. She squirmed against him. “Did you enjoy sucking me off? Making me beg you for more? Making me come down your throat? Did it turn you on?”

“Yes,” she breathed desperately and he rewarded her with more pressure, making her cry out against his skilled ministrations. She was already rolling her hips against his fingers wantonly, seconds after he’d started touching her. She couldn’t help it, making him fall apart had brought her so close to the edge already. He let her ride his hand for another moment, growling low under his breath, before he slipped out of her panties and she cried out in protest.

“I think it’s only fair,” he said, settling into the open space between her thighs. “That since you got to taste me,” he gripped the fabric at her hips, slid it down past her ankles. Her heart was pounding against her ribs in anticipation, at the look in his eyes - like he wanted to eat her alive. “I should get to taste you.”

Fucking yes, she wanted to scream but it was swallowed by a gasp as his lips closed over her, pulling her clit into his mouth with no preamble. Holy shit, she was going to come right here and now if he kept that up. His tongue flicked out, teasing the nub with a few, quick strokes before he released it, his mouth opening hot over her core and she didn’t know whether to moan in frustration or in pleasure.

He licked her slowly, bottom to top, once, twice, before sliding his tongue into her, thrusting and curling against her walls. “Jesus Christ,” she cursed and he groaned appreciatively against her, the feeling vibrating through her core and sending a fresh wave of heat and slickness between her thighs. He groaned again.

She couldn’t take it. She needed to come. She was too wound up, too high, too close. She couldn’t take the teasing. “Please,” she begged, hoping he’d take pity on her like she had on him. He pressed another hot, open-mouthed kiss against her before finding her clit again, pulling it between his lips and sucking as he pushed one finger and then another inside of her.

“Yes,” she sobbed as he found the perfect rhythm, the way he always did, the steady rocking of his fingers and the pulsing against her sensitive nerves driving her higher and higher. She grabbed for his hair, needing to hold onto him, needing something to ground her to reality. “Don’t stop,” she begged between frantic gasps and cries. He redoubled his efforts, increasing the speed of his fingers, sucking harder, curling, licking, flicking, and she broke, her whole body convulsing, her thighs gripping the sides of his head, a shout bursting from her as the world went silent for a moment. The only thing that existed was the feel of his mouth on her and the shudders wracking through her.

He eased her down, slowing his caresses until her aftershocks subsided and she melted against the mattress in a boneless heap. She laughed, a disbelieving, weak sound leaving her. She’d heard that sex got better when there were feelings involved but she’d always thought that was a load of bull. But now, ever since that night a week ago where she’d decided to try, each time they were together was more intense, more powerful, more earth-shattering. And this time - Jesus fucking christ she had not been prepared for this time.

“That was...” she rasped, mirroring his words from earlier.

“I know,” he said and she looked down to see him smirking, cocky and smug. He crawled back up, wiped his mouth with a tissue and pulled her in for a sweet kiss before tucking her against his chest. “You know, I think I’m gonna like this boyfriend thing,” he mused. She smacked his chest lightly and he laughed. He was right though. She was definitely already liking it.

She hitched a leg over his hip and smiled when he grunted, feeling him stir against her. “How late are we for breakfast?” she asked, knowing that their friends would likely be waiting for them downstairs as they did most mornings so they could all eat together in the hotel restaurant.

“A bit,” he admitted. “I’m sure they’ll understand though that last night was -”

“No, you misunderstood me,” she interrupted him, grabbing his bicep and pulling to roll him over on top of her again. “How late do you think we can get away with being for breakfast?” His grin matched hers as he leaned down to kiss her again.

***

They missed breakfast. They arrived in the hotel dining room just as their friends were heading back to their rooms to get ready to board the bus in an hour. They had a three hour drive, a sound check, a little downtime to settle into their hotel, and then a show at eight. Emma didn’t notice the nervous, concerned glances Mary Margaret and Ruby shot her when she walked in - or the way they changed to shock when they saw her smile, her hand clasped firmly in Killian’s. Mary Margaret’s mouth hung open in disbelief, looking quickly back and forth between the two of them. Ruby’s grin was wicked, pleased and knowing.

“If it isn’t our new celebrity,” Liam exclaimed as they reached them. Killian rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever his brother was building up to. “Congratulations on going viral,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “And twice in one night, too.”

‘What are you talking about, brother,” he sighed, but Emma knew he wasn’t as annoyed as he was pretending to be, he was too happy - she could tell, she was too.

Liam handed over his phone to show him two articles, one after the other. The first was a rumor about them, a suspicion that they were together, with photos of them singing last night, a picture of them with their arms around each other. The second article was about the party, with photos clearly taken on someone’s phone, of him knocking Neal out. Emma tried not to smile at the way Neal was referred to as ‘a one-hit wonder who had been mostly absent from the music scene after his second album failed to live up to his debut’.

“You’re trending on Twitter,” Liam told him scornfully.

“And instagram! And Tik Tok,” David added with more excitement. “There’s a looped video of you knocking him out - they set it to music. Here, look, it’s pretty great.” David moved to show him but Liam stopped him, displeased.

“Lighten up, Liam,” Killian said. “You’re just jealous that I’m going to have the ‘bad boy’ rep in the band now and not you. Besides,” he added. “He deserved it.”

Some of the anger left Liam’s face then, his eyes flickered briefly to Emma. “Yes, I know.” Her heart swelled a little. She knew that her friends must have told him some version of what happened with Neal, but to see Liam support her was… kind of touching. Liam was fairly aloof. It was nice to know he cared.

She looked around to see the others wearing similar expressions and she realised then how much she’d gained when she agreed to go on this little adventure. She’d found Killian, but she’d also gained three brothers, and another sister in Belle. She loved this little makeshift family they’d created (albeit a fairly incestuous one) but she loved them and she planned to hold on to them.

“I wish I’d done it,” Ruby muttered. She looked at Killian then. “But I’m glad you did. That was very cool of you.” A look passed between them, some sort of unspoken understanding and Emma wondered what secret they had, what score had been settled.

“We should get going,” Belle said, glancing at her watch and they all nodded in agreement. Emma’s stomach growled. Not having eaten since before the show last night and having consumed an entire bottle of whiskey leaving her hungry and desperate for something unhealthy. Killian glanced around the room and grabbed a couple of pastries before they were put away, snuck them quickly out into the lobby with their friends. He handed her one. She smiled and thanked him as they walked, their arms bumping against one another, far closer together than was necessary.

“So are you two together now?” Graham asked when they reached the elevators. The others didn’t say anything, but Emma could see them all watching them out of the corner of their eyes.

“Are you?” Killian shot back, looking between him and Ruby with a raised brow. She knew what he was doing, knew he was still trying to protect her, not wanting to announce their newfound relationship before she was ready. But she was ready. She’d kept him a secret too long. It wasn’t fair to him. She wanted them to know.

Graham grinned. “I asked you first.”

“Yes,” Emma said and watched as seven pairs of eyes widened in shock - Killian’s included. She shrugged them off, taking a bite of her pastry. She felt Killian’s smile pressed against the crown of her head, his arms slipping around her waist.

“Oh god, it was bad enough when they were hiding it,” Ruby groaned. “They’re gonna be insufferable now.”

Emma glared at her but it was half-hearted, the grin pulling at her lips much stronger.

***

They had just finished their set, Ruby, Mary Margaret and Emma all taking their bows and shouting their thanks at the cheering crowd. Emma smiled at her friends. They all had equally massive grins on their faces. Each show they played they had a bigger round of applause. Each time they were up there, there were more people in the stands, people coming to see them rather than only to see Abandon Ship! and tolerating the opening act. There had been signs today in the stands, signs with her name on them, with Ruby’s and with Mary Margarets, decorated with hearts and catchy slogans and drawings of swans. This was really happening. They’d really made it.

They said one final farewell and rushed off the stage, hearts racing and adrenaline singing in their veins. The cheers continued, they usually did, people now warmed up and ready for the main act. She found Belle waiting for them on the side of the stage, a wide smile on her face.

“I think they’re ready for the guys,” Ruby laughed.

Belle shook her head. “Listen.” They looked back towards the stage, paid attention to the cries and the cheers. It wasn’t for Abandon Ship! - it was for them. They were screaming her name, demanding another song. Her jaw dropped as she turned to the other women.

“What do we do?” she asked and Belle’s brow quirked up.

“You go back out there and give the people what they want,” she said.

“Our first encore,” Mary Margaret squealed. “How exciting!”

“What do ya say, Em?” Ruby asked. Emma nodded but paused, her friends watching her eagerly.

“Do you think… look maybe this isn’t the best time to go up there and improvise but do you think we could try something new? Do you think you guys could follow me?” she hesitated. It was a big ask, risking their first encore for her to take a chance and finally, finally put herself out there.

“Fucking absolutely,” Mary Margaret said and Emma’s eyes shot up at her friend’s language.

“What she said,” Ruby laughed. “Just go out there and play. We’ve got your back.”

“Always,” Mary Margaret added.

She was so goddamn lucky. She had the best friends - the best family - she could ever ask for. She grabbed both their hands, felt them squeeze hers tightly and together they walked back on the stage. Emma sat down, picking up her guitar - one of those acoustic-electric ones she was so fond of, and looked back at her band. They were ready, instrument and sticks in hand. They offered her reassuring nods.

“Thanks for that,” she said into the mic and the crowd cheered loudly. She smiled. Sometimes she understood why Killian hamed it up so much up here. She didn’t have that in her though. “If um,” she hesitated. “If it’s alright with you I’d like to try something new.” Another collective cheer. “I’ve never played this before for anyone -” she looked back at the girls. “We’ve never even played this one together so, uh, bear with us,” she joked. The crowd erupted again when she started strumming.

This was it. She could do this. It was time to put her money where her mouth was and finally play something real - something scary and vulnerable and so goddamn terrifying, but she needed to. And she knew he would hear it - knew that the sounds from the stage travelled to the dressing room where he and the boys were getting ready - knew that he’d hear it and that he’d know - he wasn’t the only one who’d broken their rule.

She thought of him when she sang and it made her feel braver. She’d thought of playing the one they wrote together - the first one - but she’d changed her mind. She didn’t want the first real, honest song she played on stage to be about Neal - he didn’t deserve that. Killian did. Ruby and Mary Margaret joined in after the first chorus, always able to read her so well, and that made her braver too. She didn’t have to feel vulnerable on stage because she wasn’t alone. She had backup. She had family.

The crowd was dead silent for a moment when they finished and Emma’s heart hung somewhere in her throat, waiting, terrified to see if they would like this as much as they liked what she’d played before, if it was enough. The screams filled her ears, a roar that went through the room, echoing across the stadium, blending into a single, booming sound that seemed to go on forever. Ruby and Mary Margaret joined her, wrapped their arms around her and thanked the crowd, their voices barely heard over the noise despite their microphones. She was too stunned to say anything, her eyes stung.

They left the stage and it was a moment before she could hear her friends’ voices - over the crowd yes, but also over the blood rushing in her ears.

“That was amazing, Emma,” Ruby hugged her. Mary Margaret joined in from the other side, sandwiching her between them so that she could barely breathe. She laughed, tears still wetting her eyes but with joy, with excitement. They’d liked it. They’d liked her music - liked the real her and she could feel that thought swelling in her chest, opening it, like all the doubts and the fears she’d kept locked away in there to protect herself were finally being set free - she didn’t need them anymore.

“Have you found him?” she heard Liam’s voice saying, a little frantic, almost scared.

“No,” Belle said, her voice equally worried. “Graham’s got people searching the whole building and David’s checking out back in the alleys in case he stepped out. Emma’s heart seized. Belle, Liam, Graham, David. That left only one person. Where was Killian?

“What’s going on?” she asked and Liam turned to her, his face hesitant, like he didn’t want to tell her and it scared her because she knew that look. That was the look people gave when they were protecting someone, when answering your question put someone else at risk. After a moment he sighed, still looking panicked. “Killian’s missing.”

“What?”

“He wasn’t in the dressing room. We thought he was out here watching you play but he’s not. Nobody’s seen him in over an hour when he got a phone call and stepped out to take it.”

“Has he done this before?” Emma asked, her heart now pounding heavily in her chest thinking of all the places he could be, all the terrible things that could have happened.

Liam winced and nodded. “The last time he did this... We found him a week later. He’d gone on a bender. He didn’t even remember where he’d been.” He hesitated, like he was worried whatever he said next could upset her. “Did anything happen last night? Or this morning? Anything that could have set him off?”

She wanted to be sick. Was this because of them? She knew Killian had his own issues, his own baggage. But he was so carefree, so lighthearted and so kind that sometimes she forgot about the darkness he had inside of him - about what he’d lived through. She worried that maybe he’d acted the way she had in the past - sabotaged something good because he was too afraid of it, because he didn’t think he deserved it.

“We need to find him,” she said. Liam nodded and they all grabbed their coats.

“Belle, stall as long as you can,” Liam told her. “If we’re not back in thirty minutes… cancel the show.” Belle understood, agreed, Emma saw her squeeze his hand tightly, reassuringly before he left.

“Find him,” she said.

They searched for over two hours. Looked in every hotel and bar they could find, called his phone, called the police, called the hospital. Liam even called a couple of local AA meetings. Nobody had seen him. The show was cancelled but that was the least of her worries. She needed to find him. She needed him to be safe and with each passing second she imagined worse and worse fates that might have befallen him.

She was the one to find him, in a bar nearly ten miles away from the venue. He must have walked there. She felt a fist gripping her heart, trying to pull it out of her chest when she saw him. He was sitting at the counter, a bottle of rum and an empty glass on the table in front of him. She pulled out her phone, texted Liam who said he’d be there in ten. She approached him slowly and felt the grip loosen when she saw that the bottle was still sealed.

“Killian?” she asked and he started, turned to look at her. His expression relaxed when he recognized her. He looked angry - he looked heartbroken, defeated, and sad, but the anger simmered under the surface. She sat next to him, reeling at how familiar this scene was, how quickly their roles had reversed. He had the glass between his fingers now, was glaring at the bottle and she couldn’t tell which pull was stronger - how much he wanted it or how much he hated it.

“What happened?” she asked and he didn’t answer for a long while, his fingers playing along the edge of the glass. At least he’d started focusing on it now and not the bottle. When he finally spoke his voice was hollow, even the rage gone from it now.

“Gold,” he said and Emma tried not to let the confusion show on her face, wanted him to say what he needed to, to explain. “Milah’s husband. He’s up for early release.” Fuck. She didn’t know how to comfort him, what to do. How do you help someone deal with the man who murdered his love being released from prison?

“Good behaviour,” he scoffed. “What that really means is that he has his hand in enough people’s pocket.” She put her hand on his arm and he finally set the glass down, finally looked at her. “I’m leaving,” he said.

“What?” she asked, hating how small and broken she sounded.

“I’m going back to England. There’s going to be an appeal. Milah didn’t have any other family. There’s nobody else to stand up for her - nobody else to tell people what a monster he was. I need to go back.”

Emma tried not to listen to the voice in her head, the one that repeated over and over: I’m leaving. I’m leaving you. But it only grew louder, more insistent. He hadn’t asked her to come with him, hadn’t needed her help. He was leaving. Just like that. It hurt how easy that decision seemed to be.

She saw Liam and David coming through the door. She stood up, nodding her head, fighting the tears that were burning her eyes and her throat. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t let him see her break, couldn’t make this about her. But she had to get out. She couldn’t stand by to watch him leave her. She deserved this, she figured. She’d left him more than once and karma was a bitch.

She left him there, with his brother and his best friend. He didn’t even try to stop her, didn’t seem to notice her leaving. Ruby and Mary Margaret were outside when she got there. They took one look at her face and wrapped her up in their arms, asking what happened, what was wrong.

“It’s over,” she said. “Everything.” She’d tried. She put herself out there, risked it. And he’d still left. “Let’s just go home. I’m done.”

#of cars and bars #cs fanfiction #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan fanfic #cs au #captain swan au #cs smut #captain swan smut #cs angst #captain swan angst

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shadowsflame-ffxiv · 4 years

Text

Umbra Mortis (Pt.1)

“Zane RUN!”

He didn’t mind the tone Rukh used, it didn’t bother him that the Hrothgar sounded like he wanted to throttle him. It had been accompanied by the staggering behemoth of the Magitek armor, and the accompanied high pitched whine that he had grown used to in his years.

Seven Seconds.

He had seven seconds until the armor powered up it’s main laser cannon. Time enough to bolt, to sprint ahead and get to the side to...he saw Kast, Kast who had been pinned to the jungle floor, Kast who had been shot multiple times. His heart clenched, the decision made somewhere between second five and six.

The blond Keeper hit the ground and rolled, black and blue two-toned eyes stared into his own green and grey, and Zane felt a pang of guilt, of sorrow. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell him he loved him. He had a million things he wanted to say...

“Mama! MAMA!” Zane snapped awake, shrieking and pulling at his blankets, the last thing in his mind the heat of the laser cannon as it collided with him, the stench of burning leather mingled with flesh, the pain in his body and then nothing.

“Shanna? Oh, Shan, what happened?!” The soft lilting voice full of concern soothed his sobs, and he looked helplessly at the blonde Seeker in his doorway, despair radiating off his form.

“Mama..mama there was a boy and he...I got hurted. I got hurt real bad and he was so sad mama, the Crystal cried. Mama..” he whimpered and curled up in her lap, small tail twitching as he cuddled into her chest, trying to get his emotions under control.

“Shan, it’s okay...it was a nightmare, you’re safe, you’re home and you’re here at my heart.” She said softly, rocking his toddler body as she rubbed his back.

Zane wanted to correct her, that wasn’t his name, he didn’t understand...but as he looked at his small hands, he just wrapped his pudgy arms around her neck and soaked in her warmth. This woman was familiar, somewhere in his mind he knew. Mama, she was his mother...he was home. “Shan guess what? Your Papa is coming today!”

Zane looked up into her soft blue eyes, her honey blonde hair framing her face in frizzy curls. Images of a man, with bright red hair and an easy smile, with eyes like his own, green like a verdant field of grass, with scars across his lip and nose, and rough hands. “Papa?” he asked softly.

“Mmhmm, you better get ready.” she smiled mischievously at him, and another memory came unbidden.

Zane smiled back, sniffling one last time before he nodded. “Okay Mama.”

She put him down, and he went to wash himself from the basin, scrubbing tears from his face and fussing with his dark hair to get it just so. Then he put on his shirt and shorts, frowning when he couldn’t quite figure out one armhole. He went to her in the kitchen, pouting at his uncooperative clothing, and she laughed softly. It was a beautiful sound, like the bells in Ishgard on a clear day, and he found he wanted her to do it forever. They had a breakfast of dried meats and scrambled eggs, Zane fidgeting on his chair, small legs kicking idly with a weird excitement as he watched the front door.

“Go Shan, go on! He’s coming!” His mother said suddenly, and he quickly leapt off the chair, feet carrying him even though he felt half in a daze, quickly hiding in the closet by the door, crouching down to keep hidden.

There was a knock and then the door opened, and the Miqo’te from Zane’s memory came through, his leather duster hitting just at their dirt floor. The male was burly but in an agile fighting kind of way, his short red hair had beads hanging in leather decorations down the right side of his face. The Miqo’te turned and held out his arms for the blonde, pulling her in to kiss her, and to keep his back to the closet. “Shayna, I’ve missed you. And where’s my little cub?” he looked around curiously in the kitchen. “Has he run away to finally become a feral kit in the forest?” he teased. “That surely is where he’s gone, Veth.” Shayna laughed. “He’s around somewhere I’m sure. Have you already been to see Lara? How are Ohna and Rehna?” The crimson haired Miqo’te nodded. “I have, they’ve gotten so big! I think they’re ready for their first Hunt. I want to call a tribe meeting, and have them go out on the next full moon at the end of the month.” Veth seemed focused on the conversation, but his tail gave him away, twitching in anticipation, and he couldn’t hold back the grin to Shayna when he heard a soft swish of feet on the dirt floor. Veth gasped, letting out a good cry of pain when teeth sank into his thigh and twenty-five pounds of four-year-old collided with him, falling to the ground and letting his son scramble over him, proud as Zane hit multiple weak points with little blunt nails while they scrapped. It took him a bit to actually catch the boy, but finally he wrapped the wriggling child in his arms and laughed. “Do you yield, Little Sun?” “Never! The Oh Tribe never suddenders!” Zane said strongly.

“Surrenders.” Shayna corrected airily as she watched them wrestle.

“Mm, then you give me no choice!” Veth snickered as he began to tickle the boy mercilessly, holding him tightly to not let him squirm away. “Yield!”

Zane pouted but finally stopped squirming. “Fine, I sud-..surrender.” he whined, and then squealed as Veth peppered his face in little kisses.

“Ew! Papa stop!” he huffed, escaping as his father let him go, wiping off his face and glowering at the older miqo’te.

Veth chuckled, getting up and scooping the boy into his lap as he sat at the table, giving him a little toy he’d brought along to keep him entertained. He smiled as Shayna brought him coffee, sipping it thankfully.

“Shan had another bad dream last night.” She said finally, sighing as she watched their son play. “Thev I’m getting worried, even our Seers weren’t having dreams like this so young.”

Thev brushed Zane’s hair from his face, frowning as he studied him, looking deep into green eyes that matched his own.

“I think we should bring him to see my father. He might have more knowledge than even our Seers, as they’re still young by other Tribe standards.” he said finally.

“What if they want to take him? I don’t want to lose him.” Shayna fretted.

Thev grinned, this time feral. “They won’t. I’ll protect my progeny with blood and fang until not a one would stand against me. You have my word as Nunh. Still, it would help to know more.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the squirming boy who had finally gotten bored of his toy. “Mama? May I go outside please?”

Shayna nodded “Go on, stay in the yard and as far as the tree line.” She recited, and waited until her son recited it back to let him run off out the door. Zane ran outside, standing still and stretching his little arms over his head, turning his face up and smiling as the sun beat down on him, warming his skin. Bare calloused feet lead a path across cracked desert ground as he scurried this way and that, chasing small lizards and bugs into the trees, but always keeping his yard and house in sight.

He had followed a horned beetle up a tree to a place where the trunk went mostly horizontal, when the bug suddenly froze, and he blinked in confusion at it. He poked it, trying to get it to move, but it was hunkered down. He had the sudden urge to do exactly as the beetle was doing, a weird palpitation of danger hitting him, something was here and it was wrong. The dark haired youth looked up, green eyes widening when he saw a pair of slate grey eyes staring down at him, barely twenty feet from him in the same tree. There was a weird crackle around him, as if he had magic hiding him, but somehow Zane could see him.

The fact the man was a hoor, he thought that’s what his mama said, registered before he suddenly launched himself back as the man tried to grab him, and Zane’s reflexes managed to catch himself so when he hit the ground, he was bolting. He heard the figure hit the ground and Zane forced himself faster...how had he got so far into the trees? Why was he so far away?

Suddenly with a muffled cry he was tackled, everything that was light becoming darkness as the figure forced him under, no light entered around the monster that had caught him, all he could smell was gun oil and all he could feel was treated leather. Until he became aware of another sensation, a dagger against his throat, tracing gently along his cheek at the tip.

“I wondered who might volunteer first.”

A deep voice filled his trembling ears, and Zane growled as he did exactly what his father had taught him.

A surprised hiss and the removal of the blade against his neck came when Zane sank his sharp fangs deep into the arm by his face. He didn’t stop to think about anything, bolting again as the man rolled off of him. He thought he could make it, he could do it he could get help.

That thought was ended as a dagger slammed into his leg at his thigh, making him cry out and fall. The monster grabbed him, picking him up and grey met green again, anger on the man’s face palpable.

“That was stupid, boy. I was going to kill you quickly, but now..”

Zane didn’t realize it was strange he could understand him, he didn’t know he shouldn’t be able to understand the high Garlean the man was speaking.

“My Papa will kill you, nothing is stupid if it meant I got away!” He replied with as much of a snarl as he could, tears running down his cheeks from fear and pain.

Everything seemed to stop, the man’s eyes widening. “You...understand me.” he said, head cocking to the side in curiosity.

“W..What?” Zane blinked through his tears, staring at him in confusion.

“How, in a tribe of savage beasts, how do you understand me? Is Her reach truly this far?” The man was rambling, grip tightening on Zane’s arms and it made the boy whimper.

“S-Stop...Stop please.” He begged.

“A Sign...this is a sign.” He continued to ramble, a sudden terrifying grin sliding across his face. “You will be Mine.”

“Let me go. LET ME GO!” Zane kicked and squirmed, but he couldn’t stop the man from pulling his arms behind him, binding him with rope and shoving a cloth gag into his mouth.

“Be silent boy. I am going to let you decide. Your family, your friends, and your life..for me. Be Mine. Whatever I want you to be, and they live.” The dark voice whispered, his mind fuzzing, the world suddenly shifting and seeming to shatter.

Suddenly, he wasn’t a little boy, he was himself, not a child but as he was supposed to be, still bound, still gagged, staring at Melachi who gazed down at him with terrible grey eyes, sightless but full of rage. His forehead had a jagged hole, which slowly dripped blood.

“Choose..they will die, Zane. Come with me...or they die..”

He could smell the burning, the rancid odor of flesh in fire, and when he looked behind Melachi he could see the Vanguard. The building crackled in a blaze, and he could see figures. His mind supplied who was where, they were all there, dead, burning...he screamed against his gag, screamed as pain flared in his body and his back felt like it was on fire. “Choose Zane...you have to Choose...”

“MAMA! Mama!” Shan screamed, twisting in his sheets as he sobbed violently.

“Shan?! Shan oh my little sun and soul, shh.” His mother’s touch and voice soothed away the night terrors, and he buried his little face into her shoulder as she pulled him into her lap.

“They died Mama...they died and the Crystal...she was crying. I had to choose...Mama I don’t want to go away..” He sniffled as she soothed him.

I don’t want to leave...

#TW: blood #TW: death #TW: child harm #The edge before the end #Ready Steady Draw! arc

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agncsdei · 4 years

Text

HEARTBEATS AND COALS

notes: ok so this is a BEYOND THE SOCIETY drabble, because i’d been thinking a lot about kyrie’s true form. so. yeah. i did write this with the mindset that the reader is female, but they can be nonbinary if you’d like.

The church outside of town had been abandoned for many years now, but recently, you'd been hearing rumors ---- rumors of a demon having taken shelter there, who protects children and women but slaughters those who intend to harm them. Those who took sanctuary swear that there would be blankets given as they were asleep, or hear a murmur in their ears, or see a shadow crawling across the rafters.

At first, you only took a mild curiosity to them. It was surely a rehearsed tale from their mothers, their grandmothers, old wives' tales. It was a lesson in that the church would protect you if you cried out for sanctuary, surely.

Then your night came.

It started with a hearty night with friends. The male friend you knew had a crush on you, he was talkative, trying to touch your shoulder or your hand or your hair. Your female friends tried to protect you, but eventually, he and his male friends circled you like a vulture and his comrades, ready for the kill. When you did run, you felt the whiff of his fingers close to your hair, dangerously close, and you felt yourself panicking.

You could go home. Could you? No. He knew where you lived. He could easily corner you and take you by force. You would hate him more than you could ever know, and maybe he would hate himself ---- or not, maybe he would be satisfied with your decisions, his actions, your inevitable pain.

Trying to find a destination would take too long, but your mind suddenly clicked. The church. The abandoned church. If he was stupid enough to follow you into the church, even if the demon didn't exist, you could weave your way through the halls before losing him there.

And if the demon did exist?

Maybe it would understand.

You can almost feel your shoes unraveling from the wear and tear as you ran harder than you had ever done in your life. The men behind you were jeering as you rushed out of the town, the flat path of grass leading you directly to the church. All you could think of was to run, RUN, and declare sanctuary in a church with no preacher.

As you run across the threshold, a scream rips itself from your throat, the single word practically making it hoarse.

"SANCTUARY!"

----------

The deathly white creature's black and gold eye opens, large and covering half of his face, even as one of his long ears twitch.

He was needed once again.

----------

You more heard than saw the response to your cry, something leaping across the rafters towards you, then past you ---- and then behind you.

As you ducked to the floor, your breath ragged and a whimper easing from your lips, you finally allowed yourself to turn around, only to see the beast's back to you. Upon its back, the dim lights within the church illuminated them.

Wings.

Half of them like an angel's, half of them like a demon's, all of them attached the pale white spine of a creature that was most definitely not human. Your gaze lowered to find that some of that same spine led into a tail, long and black, longer than you could even see.

You heard those men screeching to a halt, but you could only gaze upon this creature that had now become your savior. Even from behind, you knew that this was the demon everyone spoke of, and that this was real.

"What the hell is this? Some sort of costume?"

"I dunno, it's too big to be a costume…"

"Who the hell cares? She's right there, let's get her!"

The demon let out a roar, one that you could hear almost twice as loudly as a normal person's shout ---- and you could also hear a couple of the men gasp.

"Shit, that's no costume…!"

"If this is the demon, then let's kill it--"

"THIS ONE IS UNDER MY PROTECTION."

A hush fell over the men, and the creature's voice hadn't even been a shout, simply a proclamation. What a proclamation it was, though, with a voice that both rang of angelic bells and of demonic origin. Even your own frightened noises fell silent, as if your body itself was in awe of this creature.

"THIS ONE IS UNDER MY PROTECTION," it repeated, and it stepped closer to the men, to your pursuers. "SCATTER, FLEE LIKE THE ROACHES YOU ARE, OR YOU WILL BE JUDGED."

Not another word of doubt or hostility came from the men, but you heard their shuffling and fleeing. Footsteps leaving the area, a whisper here and there of "no way" and "oh god", before everything fell silent.

After a few moments of that silence, the creature turned around. You could see markings similar to freckles, either glowing with heat or black like dull coals upon that white flesh, and you could see its two fanged mouths, the large ram’s horns, and most of all…that large eye, staring, a golden orb within a black void upon its face.

It knelt in front of you, still large and imposing, but the way it held out one of its many hands was delicate. Gentle, even.

"I would tell you not to fret, but I am sure that would fall upon deaf ears." The demon's voice was…lovely. Not the strong tone of its proclamation earlier, no, this one was light and almost feminine. All you could do was stare at it, perhaps dumbly, as it continued. "What matters now is that you're safe. I can take you to a bed, if you'd like to rest yourself from that awful encounter, or perhaps you might need a meal to find your ground, hm?"

Instead of actually answering, you lowered your gaze to the proffered hand, gingerly taking it in yours before allowing the creature to pick you up. You could feel multiple arms around you, sturdy yet loose, as if it expected you to begin squirming.

No. Your legs were too much like jelly, the adrenaline of the chase having worn out. As you rested your head upon the creature's collarbone, you could feel warmth ---- warmth beyond that of a human, but not as hot as you would have expected with fire.

As it began to walk you deeper into the church, you didn't hear anyone besides your own softened breath or the creature's own footsteps. Perhaps it knew that you wouldn't be pleased to fly, for despite its wings, it brought you up the stairs and into what appeared to be a refurbished library.

Several large nests were made of blankets, each with a stack of books beside them and pillows nestled into them. Had there been more people here, you would've thought it was a shelter in preparation for a storm, or even the apocalypse.

The creature paused, its eye seeming to glance over the beds, before it brought you to one closer to the back of the room, where a window was. However, there were very few lights otherwise, save for an unlit lamp beside the nest.

As you were placed in the nest, you felt yourself reach up to the creature's neck, your arms weaving around it as you finally spoke. "W-wait…don't go."

It didn't even look surprised, instead gently rubbing one of its cheeks against your head, as if it were a mother cat nuzzling her kit. "I understand. It's been quite the night for you, hasn't it? I'll protect you even in your dreams."

As it crawled into the nest with you, you allowed yourself to be shifted into its lap, and it brought a blanket over you. When it tried to provide a pillow, you shook your head, resting it upon its collarbone as you had while you were carried. Your heart seemed to calm down now, even as you closed your eyes.

"Sleep well."

Those words were the last thing you heard before you drifted into sleep.

#❖ ▷ ▓ ( ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ) ɪᴛ's ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴏᴏɢɪᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ▓ ◁ ooc post #❂ ▷ ░ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏғ ᴡʀᴀᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴏᴍ ɪᴍᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ░ ◁ beyond the society #❖ ▷ ▓ sᴇʀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ( sᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴀʏᴇʀs ɴᴏᴡ ) ▓ ◁ drabble

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years

Text

Already Dead

*Not my Gif*

Requests: Hi! Can you do a Bellamy x Reader with Prompts 4 and 11?

Requested by: @Zaynkilam1

Request: 4, 5, 26 and 30 Bellamy Blake x Reader

Requested by: @shadowlyorphan

*For some reason I can’t tag either requestors, I’ll keeping trying! Let me know if I have your tag wrong*

4. “Oh my god, you’re in love with her/him.”

5. “You can’t save me. I’m already dead.”

11. “Hold on. Are- Are you jealous?”

26. “People die. People die every day. I just… I guess I just never thought you would.”

30. “I love you, not them. Just you.

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Post Date: 5-30-19

Word Count: 1273

A/N: Hey so I had written this today and as soon as I finished it I realized I had messed up on this and forgotten to include prompt #4 in this which was a very sad realization since both of you had requested it, so if you want me to write you another with that prompt and maybe another go ahead and ask and I’ll add it to my todo list! I have about 7-8 requests in the works right now, so I’ll post them as soon as I can! You guys are amazing and I’m really glad you all are enjoying my work! Let me know what you think!

- Ria

~Prompt List~

~Master List~

~Open Requests~

Bellamy threw the shovel on the ground as he looked at the grave. Your grave. When he fell to his knees he wasn’t crying, but he could feel the weight of the world pulling him down. But you were his world, and now you were gone. When his tears finally fell he didn’t try to hold them back, letting them fall to the earth.

“People die. People die every day. I just… I guess I just never thought you would.” He whispered, fingers dragging patterns across your grave. The same patterns you would trace every day. He closed his eyes as simpler times came to his mind, a time where it was just you two and didn’t have to worry about grounders or acid fog or losing you.

---

You stared into the flames in front of you as your feet mindlessly dragged in the dirt, not paying attention to the man coming up behind you.

“You daydreaming again, Y/L/N?” Bellamy whispered into your ear causing you to jump in fear. When you realize it was only him you began to relax and smile while patting the seat next to you.

“Yep. Thinking about what an awful person you are, Bell. I mean, I’ve been sitting alone since Jasper and Monty left me for like 5 whole minutes.” You joked nudging his shoulder with yours as you looked up at him. He smiled at you before moving you to lean against him, pulling your back into his chest. “you know, you are kind of comfy.” You mumbled, closing your eyes as you leaned your head into his neck.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” He laughed as you shot up spinning around to face him. your eyes widened as you raised your eyebrows.

“Really? And who told you that?” you questioned. He gave you an amused look as you moved, completely baffled by this new side of you.

“Hold on. Are-Are you jealous?” he said, lips curling into a slight smile. You rolled your eyes as you refused to face him, arms crossed over your chest.

“Pfft me? Jealous? I don’t get jealous. Especially over my boyfriend telling me that other people had called him comfy.” You stood off the log and started to walk away before Bellamy’s hand found your waist and pulled you back, wrapping his arms completely around you as you tried to remain mad, but struggling against his warmth.

He gently kissed your shoulder as tried not to laugh at the tickling feeling. “Y/N, you have nothing to be jealous or even worried about. I love you, not them. Only you. And I’m afraid your stuck with me for a while.” You felt your heart beat faster as you turned around, your face inches from his as a smile worked its way to your face. Your fingers came up to caress his cheek, gently pulling his chin to bring his face to yours. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it was a moment you both will remember for a lifetime.

---

Bellamy sat at your grave for hours, unaware of the hours ticking by until Clarke came, bringing him some food that went uneaten. She tried to get him to go back to his tent, but he wouldn’t listen, only telling her to go away. She wanted to help him, but she knew the only way to help him was to let him grieve.

“She wouldn’t have wanted this Bellamy. She would’ve wanted you to move on and protect the camp.”

“I know.”

“She loved you.”

“I know”

---

It was supposed to be a simple hunt, kill the animal and get back to camp. You and Bellamy went with Murphy and a few others hoping to catch enough to feed the camp. He hadn’t wanted you to go but you just wanted to be with him and hunting was something you were actually good at, so he was fine with it. But when the fog horn sounded, Bellamy looked around the group, but not seeing you his heart stopped.

“Y/N!” he screamed through the trees hoping you’d reply back. When all he heard was the scattering of animals around him, his mind shattered. He began frantically running, hoping you would hear his shouts. They soon found a cave and Bellamy began screaming for you.

“Bellamy!” he finally heard causing every bone in his body to stop moving. Listening for your voice he heard it get closer until an ear-piercing scream echoed around him and the yellow fog got closer to the cave. He wanted to run and grab you, pull you close and not let you go but Murphy pulled him into the cave against his struggles.

“Bellamy! Bellamy stop! She’s gone Bellamy! Bellamy!” Murphy screamed as the rest of the group helped him pull Bellamy further into the cave where the fog wouldn’t reach. They hadn’t heard Bellamy cry like this before, his screams ringing against he walls as he yelled your name. He couldn’t save you, he couldn’t even hold you as you died. He fell back against the wall as your scream breached his thoughts. He had to wait to see if you were okay and that was killing him.

As soon as the fog cleared Bellamy was out of cave, searching the ground for your body. He waited to scream your name, but he doubted you would’ve answered and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to face that moment. Only when your bloodied body came into your view did he start to yell. Hope was a stupid thing. He had hope when you moved your head gently in his direction, pain seeping through your body as tears flowed out of the corner of your half-closed eyes. Your lips were dry, and your skin was littered in blisters and blood from the fog. Bellamy kneeled next to you trying not to move you as he knew it would hurt too much.

“No, Y/N. You’re okay, it’s okay. W-we’re going to get you back to the camp and Clarke and I we’re going to save you. It’s all going to be okay.” He cried, brushing the hair out of your face as his fingers traced your cheeks. You tried to keep your eyes open, but the pain was to much. Moving hurt and death didn’t sound so bad right now.

“Bellamy… you can’t save me. I’m already dead.” Your voice was barely a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have thought he’d of heard it. But once he started crying again you knew he had. You moved your hand very slowly up to his, weary as the pain spread through your arm. “I love you Bellamy. With ev-everything-g in me-e.”

Bellamy’s eyes locked with yours before your hand fell to your knife, inches away from you two. You gently pushed it into his hands as he shook his head profusely.

“Please-e Bell-l it h-urts.” You stammer, barely able to speak. He picked up the knife, his tears falling onto your face as he leant over to kiss your chapped lips as he carefully shoved the knife into your throat, stopping your pain. But his remained. He fell onto his back, unable to look at you now. He didn’t say a word as the others came over, covering your body with their jackets as they found a way to carry you back to camp to bury. Bellamy trailed behind, keeping his distance from you. Your death affected everyone, camp was different without you, less cheerful and everyone knew it. But the only thing Bellamy could do was start digging your grave. So that’s what he did.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED!

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake the 100 #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy x reader #bellamy the 100 #the 100 x reader #bellamy imagine #bellamy blake #dropship #the 100 series #the 100 imagine #the 100

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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 5 years

Text

Coffee Shop au

Why.... Because I can XD

I mean I could do a whole this guy was working at Hat Manor instead of Flug , Demencia isn't there either and other people are in their place to have this au, but our good doctor and Hit woman are both in this and of course our dastardly Hat man we all love lol, it would not work without the entire crew right...manages to forget 505 for this one pffft maybe he’s Flugs stuffed bear from childhood?

For now let's just focus on Amadeus Black Hat.

(yes named after Mozart and I personally like the name.)

Also focusing on how this all began with him wanting a regular but decent cup of coffee without concerning ourselves on the other details of who would be in place of our favourite characters in his home.

So let's begin.

Early morning, shall we say six, despite being up since five, curtains still closed, our good (not so good) demon was curled up in bed eye closed, grumbling, his pyjamas kept riding up and irritating him and one of his bed socks had come off in the night.

That was another thing that was bothering him, half assedly trying to find it only to discover the damn thing had somehow managed to get on the floor, he glared at said object, how dare it be so far away.

Light peeked around heavy black drapes making him groan again, pulling the covers up over his shoulder trying to settle back and snuggle in pillows that were supposed to be the softest money could buy but today his bed just seemed so ARGH!

"Fine! You win you stupid contraption!"

He snapped at the inanimate object, kicking off the covers in frustration.

(We all know this feeling I'm sure!)

Stretching, bones popping, his yawn much like a cats, small and then stretching to reveal rows of fangs with a curling tongue.

Another glance at his bed sock as he pulled the other off simply to throw it at the offending one while pouting

"Traitor."

So now let's move on to him stripping down to shower as the instrumental of careless whisper plays in our minds and Hat washes himself, soap bubbles and steam miraculously censoring out all the spicy bits, long sweeping shots of legs, hands cleaning his neck and suggestively over two smallish horns protruding just above his brow, looking like he's enjoying his shower way more than any actual person would be.

Waves hand hello, yes hello you there, you can stop drooling now he's out of the shower, in a bathrobe and towel on head despite being lack there of in the hair department.

Toe claws tapping on kitchen tiles, of course he could have someone make his coffee, but he was not ready in the slightest to socialise with the idiots who worked here.

Cupboard doors open, fingers curled around handles, standing there in silence looking over the contents, a clock ticking somewhere in his sterile kitchen.

That's it! He was going out, who in the nine circles could enjoy coffee here!

His bed was uncomfortable, his socks had committed mutiny and now even his kitchen was unwelcoming.

Clapping his hands his suit appearing on him the towels going who knows where, even he did not care!

There was that new coffee shop, it had recently opened, of course he was going to know everything that went on in his town, no one could slip anything past him.

Yes that would be the perfect place to go, being new probably meant the place was not yet popular...hopefully, so then it would not be over crowded, just please don't let it be one of those copy and paste places that held absolutely no charm.

While he was a monster that did not mean he could not appreciate a good atmosphere while enjoying certain beverages.

Heels clicking against marble flooring, cane tucked under his arm, perhaps walking would also lighten his mood, was his lobby always so big?

Hmm perhaps a change was in order.

Upon opening the doors to his home he looked up at the sky, there was a chance of snow or so the weather forecast had predicted, obviously it wouldn’t when he was out.

Black Hat squinted at the clouds, they wouldn't dare.

Of course controlling the weather was not something our miserable fellow here could have charge over and here now we introduce Demencia and Flug, also because I am writing this I've named the doctor /barista Acylius Flug...so... Blep on you.

Now Acylius was in the kitchen, working on making the first batch of muffins, they did not open until at least seven, if they were popular enough they would certainly change it to six to make sure everything was ready on time.

Their café was indeed an inviting place, with deep red walls, high back comfy chairs, circular tables made of dark oak, four books between book ends on each one so someone could read something if they so wished, footstools tucked under chairs and blankets folded on the seats.

Children were not allowed.

Charging ports were optional, though phones had to be on silent.

Wooden beams giving off the impression this place was much older than it was and what art lined the walls which were an assortment of landscapes and portraits Flug would never admit to being their artist.

Demencia was using this job to hopefully pay off outstanding college debts from some years back, there was a two bedroom apartment above the Café where they lived, she got to live here rent free and was still going to be paid.

Apparently her boss and friend was not exactly short handed and sometimes she questioned where the money came from...

Pffft of course she knew about the sedated man down stairs.

"Hey stop panicking gigantor, business is gonna be slow, we just gotta get word out there or listen to customer suggestions, they always like to feel important."

Oh yes did I mention he is also six ft seven and when not torturing keeps his hologuise device off, so you would never compare him to his shorter self with the paper bag and goggles or slight nasally voice...come on now a lot of us have our own design and thoughts on Flug under the bag don't we.

His hologuise has of course been worked so that no one can see his real tall self unless he has it switched off.

"You do not think I am over doing it with the Victorian decor?"

Flug asked awkwardly, while working the white chocolate and raspberry muffin batter.

Nothing was going to come in a premixed cardboard box in his kitchen.

"With that roaring fireplace keeping the place nice n toasty absolutely not, people are gonna love that."

She had a shoulder resting against the door frame and arms folded, watching as Acylius evenly spread the batter into each muffin case.

"Though if no one shows up I am going back to bed, you know you can always join me if you want, help keep it nice and hot."

"Demencia!"

Flug returned, clearly getting flustered a blush forming on his pale skin, placing the tray in the oven, the door clanging shut.

"Now is not the time and anyway would you not prefer someone who does not have a smile permanently carved into their face, I look like I should be quoting Batman Dark Knight lines."

"Awww why so serious!"

The lizard girl teased and only laughed more at his deadpan look only then to be hit in the face by a flying tea towel .

Demencia couldn't help but laugh even more as it was sarcastically followed by

"Oops my hand slipped."

They both paused though when the chiming of the little bell went off, it was their first customer of the day, their first one to arrive at this time...mainly because they actually weren't open yet, not at least for another hour.

Black Hat stood there in the door way, snow thick on his Hat and shoulders, his frown so set in as he shook the cold powder off it could have hit the bloody floor.

The weather had dared to defy him.

Blasted cold wet frozen rain urgh...well this place...it reminded him of a home he’d once known...its styling far too similar it felt like an old parlour , comfortably furnished, a form of nostalgic peace.

The old demon wanted nothing more than to shrug off his coat, put on his fuzzy slippers with bat wings...which of course he'd never in a million years would admit were his and sit by that roaring fire.

(Heh even Mr grumpy pants can be adorable sometimes ;3)

He could hear people around here somewhere, no doubt the kitchen, cane over his arm he walked up to the counter, noticing the empty displays besides a few things in factory sealed plastics.

Sniffing he let out a sigh, a dessert treat was baking, its sweet aroma filling the air, usually our cranky demon here did not care for such things but he would be lying if he said that scent of raspberry and white chocolate with jussst a hint of vanilla did not seem appealing, he could already imagine the tart taste of raspberries on his tongue, wondering how long until those would be ready.

Like kisses from a lover he'd lost so long ago...but that was his story to keep.

Tapping the bell on the desk Demencia came running out paused and went running back, Black Hat rolled his eye and nearly left what awful customer service...when the other one came through, wearing animal oven mitts, he couldn't help but let a small smile form at the corner of his mouth, they were amusing to see on such a tall man...

Time slowed as he turned to face him, like when you see in movies, hair blowing, lighting perfect looking ridiculously gorgeous as the one staring is entranced while the chorus of take my breath away plays out of no where.

He knew that face, pale skin, ebony hair, how did he have the same scars...this man was a duplicate of...

"Sir are you alright?"

Flug asked, shifting as Black Hat had been staring, damn it he knew he should have covered his face up.

Pulling up his white Doctors mask and sighing

"Apologies, I forgot myself, I usually cover them up, did you have an order to make?"

It took Black Hat a moment to come back to reality, clearing his throat and nodding

"Uhhh Black coffee, goats milk-"

"And a dash of Hazelnut!"

Acylius blurted out and froze a moment, crap what if Black Hat didn't like that and he'd just assumed he would and the demon would get mad.

Demencia raised a brow at her friends suggestion, did he just try and finish THEE BLACK HAT'S ORDER!

"Please forgive me sir, I have no idea where that came from."

It was clear while it seemed this man did not remember him, there were old memories lost within that mind, still lingering even in this new life...a part of him still remembered perhaps...he hoped.

"Well there is no need to apologise Acylius, though perhaps I should find out where you are getting your information from."

He teased, leaning in a little.

That made Flug nervous, knocking over the thankfully empty cup, setting it up right again he was about to ask how he knew his name...of course then realising he was wearing his name tag, must've seen it and after all this was Black Hat.

No doubt he knew about the sedated man in the basement.

What our dear six foot seven Barista was really worried about was the demons presence in his newly opened coffee shop.

If the King of darkness hated it no one else would come, then there was a matter of no one else would come unless it was to see Black Hat if he was here all the time.

No that was ridiculous Black Hat would not be here everyday.

So perhaps if this went well, word of mouth would spread that if this place was good enough for Black Hat it was good enough for them and bring in business....oh my god stop thinking and make his drink!

"Please find yourself a seat, I will bring it over, Demencia please turn off the oven, no doubt the muffins are ready now."

"I would like to order one of those to."

"Yes sir, one devil's brew and muffin coming right up!"

Black Hat lingered a moment longer.

Acylius, his Acylius could not have been reborn...no this had to be some peculiar...cruel act of nature.

Karma was finally catching up with him... Yes that was it.

Taking a chair in front of the fire, crimson with a high back, he pulled out the footstool tucked underneath, of course it was facing the counter, he could barely stop looking at him.

Awww our little demon's heart is going boom boom da boom...yes I know cannon wise Hat doesn't have one but that's what Au's are for, free the imagination, anything is possible!

Acylius could still feel his eyes on him, he shivered subtlety, honestly being watched like prey was somewhat thrilling.

All the while though he was concerned he was taking too long to make his coffee as he brewed it and refused to use that instant crap.

(That most of us drink XD)

Turning back , Demencia returned with the display plate now full of muffins, one on a saucer with napkins and small fork.

Placing it on a tray she went on to put the rest where they belonged and noticed the demon watching Flug and grinned

"You like what you see, he's single you know!"

She of course held back nothing with hands on hips adding

"I'm single to but I'm not really looking for anything but come on you've been staring at him like you want him to serve himself on your lap as if he were the most tasty treat on the planet! Long legs, keeps fit-"

"Demencia PLEASE STOP!"

Acylius snapped, blushing bright red, oh god he wanted hell to swallow him up whole, could he just fucking die now please.

" I am so sorry for my co workers behaviour I-"

Flug was so embarrassed that he was completely missing the fact that Black Hat was trying not to laugh.

In any other case he would have simply just left and found it all inane but it was endearing if not bittersweet to see features resembling a lost one look so flustered, he'd always found it cute when his Acylius blushed.

Legs out on his footstool, ankles crossed, he laced his fingers and looked as serious as this entire scenario would possibly allow.

The fire crackling as both co workers stood there in silence, Demencia still grinning, oh ho the legendary master of all evil was actually considering Acylius as a snack!

Of course if her ridiculously tall friend didn't want any of that, she would be more than happy to mount the beast to her wall...bed...any available surface.

Black Hat waved a hand and spoke evenly

"I will let it slide on one condition."

Acylius gripped the tray, where was this going.

"What is it sir?"

"Call me Jefecito."

"But I, you are not..."

He sighed and gave a momentary glare at Demencia, bringing over the coffee and cake.

"Coffee is served, Jefecito, is there anything else you would like?"

"Yes, when I am here, only you are to serve me."

Hat replied, holding his coffee, the bottom of the cup making a clinking sound on the saucer, drinking he felt a comforting familiar warmth spilling down his throat.

"Kinky."

Demencia chirped out.

In which Acylius hid his face behind the tray wishing for death and Hat near choked on his coffee.

#Coffee au #Paperhat #Villainous #villainous au #Black hat #Flug #Acylius

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moonlit-nightingale · 4 years

Text

.:RP:. Cursed

Warning(s): Trigger warnings for suicide and blood.

Characters: Saranqerel ‘Sari’ Qalli (male Xaela), Akio Obinata (male Xaela), Botan Kurenai (female Raen)

Origin Date: 22 Feb 20

“Death is easy. To live is the most painful thing I could imagine and I’m weak and no longer willing to fight.” —Hannah Wright

Everything is in place. Sari has left his farewell letters and wrapped up his affairs. And so he goes to depart in the quietest way. Though a new friend picks up the signs too late...perhaps the Qalli’s story isn’t over yet.

(Note: This is from an RP session. So there is a back and forth of writers. A - in between paragraphs indicate a change in narrator.)

< Hingan >

> Xaelic <

----

A letter and small box would have been left outside Akio's room a sennight after his and Sari's last talk. Enclosed within the envelope are two documents. One is a letter, one is an official document endorsed by a Gridanian embassy, complete with a corn-yellow seal. It states that Akio is, legally, Enqtani’s legal guardian. There is also a small box like those used to sell the tokens at the charm counter.

My friend,

I know we haven’t known each other long so please forgive my selfish requests especially after I’ve placed such a burden on your shoulders. Enqtani is loved by many at the temple, however I haven’t seen her attach to anyone as closely as you. It has been a short time but a child just knows. The sealed document is official documentation that you are now Tani’s guardian. It may just be a piece of paper but with it I’m trusting you to look after her best interests in my absence.

You have been kind and a wonderful friend. And I have the utmost faith that you will be a kind and wonderful father for Tani. You mentioned once that she should know her roots. There is little to tell. I found her abandoned on the Steppe during a hunt. All I can surmise is that she was a child conceived unwillingly. She has features or the Oronir tribe which were once the leaders of the Steppe and still hold themselves in high authority over others. Not all of them are bad but it is a privileged tribe. I expect you can follow my path in thinking of what may have occurred. If Tani wants to see the Steppe with her own eyes one day, seek out Khenbish of the Buduga at the town of Reunion. He is a healer and a good man. If you can’t find him, search for Yesulun of the Qestir and her mate Khaljar of the Oronir. They are among my dearest friends even if we have parted ways. Unfortunately I am unsure of their whereabouts but their names should be known in Reunion.

Ah, but I’ve rambled on. I wish to make this process as easy as possible for you. Please rely on the others if needed. Mr. Aoki is a stern man but he has looked after Tani many times when I needed assistance.

It is little payment for what I ask for you, but I hope this gift is acceptable. Thank you, Akio, and I thank you on behalf of Tani.

Winds carry you,

-S.Q.

Inside the box, carved from a reddish wood, was a crane. Its wings are spread, every feather meticulously detailed in its carving despite the small size as its long neck and head were raised high in a cry. The figure could rest on a grown man’s palm.

Akio's shift for guard duty had ended earlier than expected, that night. And though he was tired, the Eastern Xaela had been in a surprisingly good mood, that ever-present smile a little more genuine as he took long, measured strides to his quarters. A good night's rest after some meditation sounded absolutely splendid to the man.

The presence of the letter and box caused the samurai to pause, however, tail quivering just slightly in alarm as he watched it with keen black eyes. But with heightened guard, there was little worry of it being any sort of trap or bait; he kneeled, slowly, picking it all up and entering his room.

In the privacy of his quarters, he allowed the mask to slip from his face; a frown pulled at his expression as he opened the box, looking over the figure with a delicate awe, and then the letter, reading over the words swiftly.

What laced through his blood could only be described as ice-cold panic as he realized what these words meant.

A Hingan snarl dropped from his lips as he spun around on his heel, movement swift as he threw open the door and bolted down the hall towards Sari's quarters. No doubt the man would want to do it there; the clinic was far too impersonal, and even from their short time, he knew Sari would never wish to inconvenience the clinic staff or distress the patients there.

Thank the Kami he was relieved when he was- it gave him some small hope that this time he may not be too late.

But no, the room would be empty if he should knock and try to enter. The wards' rooms couldn't be locked. It was part of the temple's design. Why would a ward of this place have secrets to hide? The futon would be folded neatly in a corner and the room immaculate. Sari never really had too many personal effects and it seemed even those were gone.

The only thing left was a small bundle of letters, left for whoever may have peeked their head in.

Another swear, and he turned on his heel, heading for the clinic itself. If Sari wasn't in there... He had no idea where to look. But he wouldn't stop looking.

His rush nearly made the clinic's night time attendant eep loudly. There was something about an empty clinic in the dead of the night just just spooked this particular Auri young lady.

"Obinata-san, kami help me." She rested a hand over her chest.

Akio paused, examining the lady for a long moment; the mask was back on in an instant, though the smile was strained, showing just how much of a rush she was in.

"Have you seen Sari-san?" he asked quickly, tone leaving little room for questions.

That tone has the girl nearly eep once more. She shook her head. "Ah, I mean, he came in earlier for a few moments to tidy up and then left about a bell ago."

Tidy up? Why on earth would he need to tidy up the clinic?

"Did he say where he was going? This is- he must be found." He'd apologize to the poor girl properly later- no doubt he was an intimidating sight, agitated as he was.

"He is planning to kill himself."

She covered her mouth at those words. "Sari-san? But..." He was always so kind! And quick to help when she'd taken over the clinic duties just a sennight ago!

"I-I don't know. I thought he was going to visit a patient because he took supplies for the intravenous bags!"

"Intra..."

Akio murmured as he went over the word in his mind, taking a moment to translate it before another swear fell from his lips. Without another word to the poor attendant, he spun on his heel and ran out. Where could he be?!

Perhaps he left the temple grounds? But if he did, it made it nearly impossible to find him. Unless...

But Jebe never left Sari's side, and so the little bluebird would be little help, even if Akio could find the bird in time to find Sari to keep him from doing the irreversible. Damn it...

His mind was racing as he ran through the temple grounds, searching for any clues to where the Qalli might have gone.

As he went by the gardens, there was angry chirping nearby. At this time of the evening? Odd. It was near the small pond where Sari often took Tani to play when she had excess energy.

The bluebird was puffed in anger, flying about the small cage propped up on a rock. It was placed near the walkway, enough that some attendant would have found it the next morning and not endangering the small bird at all.

Akio froze when his horn caught the angry chirping, head snapping over.

The Kami were merciful this day! He rushed over, kneeling down with a soft clicking noise as he fiddled with the latch to open the cage.

"<I am here,>" he said quickly, throwing the cage door open for the little bird. "<Take me to him.>"

Oh angry birb was angry. He instantly dive-bombed Akio's face before flying off at a surprisingly quick pace down the stone path that led out of the temple.

Akio made a short 'pbbth' sound out of reflex. Hey, he was trying to save the man!

But he didn't have time to be offended at the little angry puffball, instead darting after Jebe as fast as the two of them could go.

How could such a small lil blue puffball be so quick? Jebe darted over Shirogane's infrastructure, heading down the slopes towards the beaches. Even then he still flew, heading away from the beach chairs, the awnings, away from what would populated areas in the day.

The beach... Water...?

It would be out of the way, for certain, leaving it near impossible to find the body. Was that what he'd wanted?

Akio was nearing breathless as he kept on the tail feathers of the small bird, eyes searching for the Qalli in an almost desperate fashion.

Rocks dotted the sand in some of the more remote parts, harder to climb and navigate over, rougher terrain.

And that's where Sari sat motionless. He was leaning against one of the rocks facing the water. The IV line ran to that flesh arm, put in with an expert hand. The sedative bag he'd stolen weeks ago was empty, rigged up over a stick.

At least he could watch the water he enjoyed under the silvery light of the moon as he’d fallen asleep.

No no no no no no no no!

Akio felt as if he'd been kicked in the chest by An Yeung, breath leaving him in a wheeze as he scaled over the rocks. Normally, he wouldn't have so much as slipped, but tonight he stumbled once or twice, hands flying out to keep himself moving forward.

"<What have you DONE?!>"

The question came out in Hingan, far harsher than he'd meant it, a near roar as he slid to one knee next to the Qalli. The damnable idiot! The stupid... Poor, pained man.

Akio knew better than to let anger lead him to blame. He knew what this was like. But Sari deserved better. To die like this....

"<You're not dying tonight!>" he hissed sharply.

But it appeared to be far too late. Sari was a healer of both traditional and aetherial means. He knew well enough of what would happen with a fast drip of a sedative of this nature. A sleepy death, far more peaceful than what he'd deserved. No mess for others to worry about if his body was found.

He hoped no one found him. That those letters were enough.

But those hopes were gone. His breathing had stilled, no rise and fall of his chest under the Eastern cloth. Silvery hair obscured most of his face, that one eye closed, head lulled against the rock and his shoulder.

Akio had been too late, by far, it seemed.

No...

Once more, Akio found himself holding a body in his arms, the Xaela quick to gather the Qalli to him as he tried to check for his pulse, his breathing, anything. Teeth gritted against an all-too familiar pain, he snarled, tail lashing against the sand and rocks. Fingers curled into the fabric, head lowered as long blonde locks fell over both his own face and Sari's chest, forehead pressed to his still breast.

"<No, please,>" he whispered, pleading, begging. It was all far too familiar, and the mask cracked, old wounds bleeding once more as he hunched there.

"<You silent, selfish fool.>"

He knew it wouldn't be heard. Knew the Qalli wouldn't be able to retort.

"<What of Enqtani?!>" he yelled now. "<You were her father! No one will replace you in her life!>"

It was quiet for once.

A quiet he used to only be able to find in the peace of the Shroud's embrace, days on his own in the Twelveswood. Soon though, even that place became haunted to his memories. There was always...something. Something to drag the Xaela back to the dark.

So he'd given up fighting it. Fell into sin and the bottle without care.

And it was why he finally had the resolve to fade away. He was a ghost. No one would care. Everyone had their lives, their loved ones, their families. Perhaps he was envious. But he was also glad for them.

So he'd smile and wish them all well, even as he faded from their thoughts. And he'd be left to the grey shadowy mist that had become his life. Ever since that day he'd walked into that empty house, a newborn in his arms.

Ever since he'd knew, with certainty, that a happy ending never awaited a ghost.

'>You fought me with such ferocity before. Where is that beast now?<'

The drums, he knew this from before. Before when they had met, it had been a raging river, blood, and mud.

'>I am most disappointed. I cannot allow my vessel to fade in such a pathetic manner. Show me that ferocity, that fire.<'

And suddenly Sari shot awake, falling to his side and away, retching. Breaths forced into his lungs, some force pushing that deadly toxin from his body in no way that should be possible.

Akio let out a small, muffled noise of surprise, eyes widening as he let go and nearly jumped back, hands up. What the...

He'd been dead... Dead! There had been no breath in his breast, no pulse underneath his fingers! And so he stared, wide-eyed and startled. How...?

He didn't speak, hands lowering, before one placed itself gently on the other male's back, some minute attempt at comfort.

Oh it burned, it hurt, yet was so unbearably cold at the same time. Shudders wracked his slender frame as he retched again and again into the sand. Toxicity was black on his lips, something having gathered all that poison he'd given himself and thrown it out in some unnatural way.

By the time he stilled, he was breathless, gasping for air and covered in sweat. Still not fully grasping what had happened.

An exhausted look to one arm that propped him up. The IV was still there. Then...what had happened?

"<You're alive...>"

If it weren't for the breathless awe and disbelief in Akio's tone, one might think he'd been answering Sari's unspoken question. But he wasn't; he was trying to affirm the truth for himself, in his own eyes. Sari was alive. Somehow, in some way, something had saved him.

Even he knew this shouldn't have been possible. And yet here he was, breathing, if barely. "<Easy, Sari-san, easy.>"

Sounds were beginning to return outside of the wild pounding of his heart echoing in his horns. The sound of the waves over the surf, a familiar voice. Sitting up, shaky, he saw Akio at his side.

He rubbed his mouth with a wrist, still feeling that sickening bile there. "...Akio-san... How..."

It was night, he hadn't been...out...long then.

"Why am I not..."

Gods, had he failed at this too? Could he even not kill himself correctly?

"You were," came the answer, soft and haunted, but he smiled, despite the pain in his eyes. "And now, you are not... I do not know why. I do not know what happened."

He sighed, pulling off the top part of his kimono to drape it over the Qalli, reaching to gingerly take out the IV. It was freezing out, especially at night by the ocean, but...

He didn't seem to mind, simply holding Sari's arm to stop the bleeding from the injection site.

"Why would you..." he trailed off, hesitating as deep black eyes flitted over to Sari's face.

"... What pain you must endure," he finished with a soft murmur.

...why? Why couldn't he even do this right? His throat tightened, foul taste still in his mouth. Had he guessed wrong? No, a full bag at that rate of drip, it couldn't have been metabolized in time for him to live. And if what Akio said was true...

A harsh swallow as the other Xaela tended to him, Sari not fighting it one bit. His own mask was in shambles, magitek hand going to cover his face as a sob escaped.

"...I just wanted it to be over," he strangled out. "I don't want to be here anymore, please."

Akio paused at this, a small frown pulling at his features as the mask slipped once more. Ah... What should he do?

He knew that people would need to be informed. The priests, for certain. Perhaps the guard, and the clinic staff. Those who would be able to keep an eye out, an eye on the man.

And...

He knew it was improper, but he'd spend enough time in the West that he was able to cast aside his upbringing's teachings for a moment to simply... pull the man into a tight hug.

"...You are much too desired in this world, to leave it so," he murmured softly.

"That's a lie!" was the sharp denial and he wanted to fight the hug so badly but he had no strength to, even more so as the tears flowed from that one blue eye. "They all leave, they always live, no one stays. Love doesn't mean anything. Not with me. I'm all alone."

The words he'd held back for so long, for years, gushed forth without stopping. Every little thought that had passed through his mind, that he wasn't good enough, that he wasn't worthy, that he was unwanted.

Akio didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to soothe the pain the Qalli suffered, or how to comfort him. So he simply sat there, for the time being, holding Sari, rocking him back and forth and shushing him gently.

"<You're not alone,>" he answered finally, wiping away those tears with one thumb. "<Through all the pain, you are not alone. Your death would leave a hole in the hearts of many, one that could never be filled again. I know not what words to say to convince you of this truth. I can only speak it plainly.>"

He let out a breath, cradling him as Akio sat there, eyes closing.

"<I'm not lying. I promise this.>"

"It is a lie. You're lying. I'm sorry." An instant apology at the accusation but it was true. Everyone lied.

Even as he listened to those Hingan words, his spilling out of words continued in Common.

"He said that, too. He said I'd be safe. That I could cry. That we'd be happy. And that he'd never leave me. It was a lie, again and again it was a lie!"

Voice rising to a wail, uncaring of who heard, how much a mess he was, damn his mask.

"<Then he was a liar, and a fool, and he never should have held your heart in his unworthy hands.>"

And still, Akio rocked, gently, like the ocean they sat beside as he held the wailing Qalli, holding him securely in his arms.

"<But you have family. Family, and a child, and friends, all of whom adore you and your presence.>" His words came across far better in Hingan; he didn't mind that Sari spoke in Common. He understood him, and so he could get across his meaning better. That was what mattered, just then, to the Eastern Xaela.

"<I'm sorry that you weren't safe... You deserved to be. You have always deserved to be.>" A small, gently squeeze in that hug, the taller man curling over the smaller just slightly. "<If only I could find him and force him to his knees to beg your forgiveness.>"

No no no no no. It was still lies. No one wanted him about unless they needed him for something. And Sari wanted to be angry but he couldn't be. They'd found happiness. He hadn't. He couldn't fault his friends that had found peace.

But it was godsdamned lonely when he'd been so close to the same and it had drifted like smoke through his fingers.

"...n-no. He left because I wasn't..."

Good enough? Worthy?

"<Because why...?>" came the gentle prodding, one hand rubbing Sari's back gently.

"<If you say it's because you weren't good enough, then you view yourself too poorly.>"

Exhausted, face red with his tears and sorrow, he rested his chin on Akio's shoulder and nodded. It was true. He was disgusting, used, weak. That was why. Not smart enough, strong enough, charming enough, brave enough.

"<I refuse to believe that,>" Akio retorted firmly, resting his own chin on Sari's shoulder. "<Whoever this weak-willed man was...>" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"<I don't have the words to describe the kind of filth he was.>"

"No, he..." His hands weakly rested against Akio's back. "...he was good. I just wasn't...meant for him. I trapped him."

That's what the bonding had done. Khabi had seen what a weak person he'd tied himself to. That's why he'd left, right?

"<If you simply were not meant for each other, then why did he not say so?>"

Akio shook his head. "<If he wasn't able to tell you such things, to talk to you about it, he was weak.>" He pulled back, looking at Sari with a firm expression, mouth pulled into a frown as he stared the Qalli in the eye.

"<It is not your fault, Saranqerel.>"

...it was. It always would be. Why did everyone always leave? There was only one constant in all of that. Those words threatened to spill out but he was so tired, so frustrated that he couldn't even do this deed right.

Shaking his head, Sari looked to the sand. How could he still be crying?

"Can you..." Shite, he was fighting hiccups. "...leave me here?"

"No."

The word was spoken in Common now, as he shook his head. There was no way in the seven Western hells he was about to leave Sari alone right now!

"I am afraid I cannot do that."

"Please."

How could he go back now? Everything was in place. Things were finally ready. There was finally going to be quiet.

But there was little fight left in the Qalli as he begged. Just let him rest where he wasn't a burden to anyone.

"Iie," he repeated in Hingan. "You may rest with me. But I will not be leaving you alone. This is final."

Akio's tone left little room for argument- or at least that was the intent. He didn't know what else the Qalli might do, but he was damn sure not going to let him try again.

"...you'll leave...in time."

That was a guarantee. Just wait it out. Like everyone else. As he relaxed his hold on the other Xaela, his hand brush the hilt of that katana the samurai had at his waist.

A weapon he'd learned to use from someone else that had abandoned him, turned against him. There was a flash of anger somewhere deep and before he knew it, Sari went to draw that blade in a swift motion as he leaned back. Quickly he got to his feet, though stumbling a bit as he did so.

There was the softest 'sorry' as he raised the blade, going to drive it into his chest.

Akio swore, and in an instant he was on his feet, surging forward to grab at Sari- the sword, his arm, whatever he could grab.

Likely the sword, and the razor sharp blade would cut into his fingers, a pain he would brush aside in favor of throwing the sword away from the Qalli. "<ENOUGH!>" He bellowed.

It was just a bit too late, that magitek arm giving the former Adder the strength advantage.

...yes, pain. But it was nothing he wasn’t used to. The sword impaling him through and through before Akio ripped it from his grasp.

...had it been enough? He sunk back down to his knees in the sand.

Akio snarled, throwing the sword away now as he grabbed for Sari. If that was how it would be, then so be it.

He was swearing up a storm that would make a seasoned sailor tremble in fear. His goal would be to pick up the Qalli and rush him back to the shrine.

"<I will NOT have your blood on my blade!!>"

No! A return of that snarl from the smaller Xaela.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Anger rising to meet anger. Everything had been arranged. It was time to go. He swiped with the claws of that weaponized arm but he was already feeling faint, unable to fight it when the samurai lifted him from the damp sand.

"I will not abandon you," came the snarled reply as he bolted over the sand and rock, booking it as fast as his legs could go.

He needed to call ahead, but his arms were full, and so he simply ran, pushing until his legs burned then pushing further.

The anger soon faded as the blood loss began to drain him of such things. Soon his head rested limply against Akio's chest. ...and then again he gasped for breath violently, so much like before.

No no no. Could he...not...

>A small spark of that fire, not nearly enough. Impress me, child of the moon.<

Once Akio finally reached the shrine, he burst in through the door, offering a silent apology to the resident Kami. Any damages would be repaired later, the Xaela was on a mission.

He called out for the night clinic as he rushed to it, ground Sari as if he were the one dying.

That poor young woman was still there and anxious. But at least she had a good enough head on her shoulders to have things ready for the worst. And when she saw the two Auri men, and that blood, she directed Akio to the closest bed.

"...I can't die," Sari mumbled.

"No, you cannot," came the response, though Akio misunderstood what it was Sari had meant, immediately rushing the man to the nearest bed and setting him down, immediately backing up to give the woman room to work

. He looked haunted, tail lashing violently as he stood there. "Anything I can do to help, instruct me."

There was the sound of books falling over in the back. Botan had been given a room, and yet...she was asleep under a blanket that was under a pile of books, half beneath the low sitting table. A yawn left her as she stretched herself out and nose wiggled at the scent of blood. The shadows eager, but she stilled them. Least another ghostly movement spook another clinic worker.

She got up, dressed in the standard shrine attire she had stolen from the common rooms. Her wooden sandals clicking on the floor as she approached. "Assistance needed?" She inquired with unblinking eyes. "It seems the answer is 'yes,' but will not invade unless wished for."

That tail was still, lips in a straight line, and eyes unblinking as she stood before the scene without an iota of emotion portrayed.

Ah the poor healer never ceased to he spooked by Botan, even after knowing she was there!

"Yes, please. This may require stitches."

Though Sari was obviously dazed by the blood loss, he knew...he knew. Why hadn't he died on the Steppe before being found by Khenbish? Had that plunge in the river, those drums...what Shonkhor had seen.

Not a crazed vision?

Akio simply bowed his head and stepped out of the room, remaining out of the way of the two medics as he stood against the wall, closing his eyes.

Blearily the Qalli tried to get his bearings. The familiar scent of the clinic. He'd been in here just bells before... His mind was still reeling from the revelation. If that's what it was and not some nonsensical shite.

Botan was in the room. No ceremony to the matter. Just pulling out a pouch of the pain killing incense from her sleeve and filling the bronze incensor before lighting it on fire. Then she was sitting over Sari. Her hands resting over that wound in the gut, fingers lingering over it as she focused on the composition of aether and murmured calculations on the fly as she steadily studied Sari's biology through the geometric patterns she etched in her mind.

Every bit of her form was still. The shadows seemed to withdraw, shrinking in towards her and feeding into her power as she focused. They were every bit an extension of the small raen woman.

To her eyes, she may have seen the shadow that had curled itself tightly into Sari's aether. Foreign, spread evenly through every aspect of the Xaela and content to be where it was. Oddly dormant, just...there. It was nothing like the near feral aggressive curse of the kitsune that he'd suffered from for a good year. In fact, that curse has been completely obliterated by this new presence.

Botan was aware of that presence, but did not disturb it. No. She would simply work around it, add it to her calculations, and apply new formulaic patterns of aether into Sari's own. Those that would encourage flesh to stitch itself together and slow the bleeding. Her brow creased and lips pursed together as calculations were rumbled off.

If it would not allow her to heal him, she would simply brute force her way past it. That or she would show it who the scarier creature was. Not that she thought she could bully something like this...something far older than she; a mere raen youth of twenty-some-turns.

Oh the presence didn't fight the healing, no. In fact it held strands of aether close, not letting the flesh fall into death. A threshold of sorts. Sari could very much end up close to death but that final step into the lifestream wouldn't be taken.

Interesting.

The work was slowly finished and her fingers pressed against the fabric over the wound. Those digits dipped in blood and eyes open again as she sensed how flesh gave way to her calculus. There was no grin of victory. No whoop of astonishment.

No.

This was peculiar. Curious. The violet false eye with its mandala like patterns fixed on Sari.

"You have ventured far and brought shadow back with you."

The pain killers helped sooth her own pains. A twist in her gut told her she had pushed herself too far aetherically, but she ignored it. That tail ticked and she lifted her hands away to look at the blood. No blinking, just...rubbing fingers against one another.

"Fate is not done with you yet, Saranqerel." Then she looked at the woman. "Clean. Stitch the surface wound that remains."

Then there was a yawn. Botan was ready to retreat back to where she came. Like some horror slinking away into their closet until the next time someone had need of her and her arcanistry.

The Auri nurse watched with some nerves. How could one not be unnerved watching Botan work? But she nodded and went straight to work. Ritsuka didn't hire weak-willed employees, after all. Especially for the clinic.

The stitches were made evenly, front and back where the blade had pierced. Then wrappings about his middle. And, in some irony, an IV attached for fluids and antibiotics.

Putting everything away and washing her hands, she went to peek out into the hallway. "Obinata-san, he'll be alright."

Akio turned his head, and, mask back in place, he smiled, despite the blood that coated his front. It wasn't anything he was unused to, and so it didn't seem to bother him. At least, now that Sari was okay.

"You have my deepest thanks," he said with a low bow.

Botan just looked at Akio. The raen quiet, and unmoving in that moment before her stomach growled to cut into the moment.

All she said: "Beef Udon. Three sets."

Akio turned his head to look to the other Raen with a chuckle and another bow. "My thanks to you as well- if it will serve to repay even a small portion of my debt to you, I shall see it done."

He turned then, setting off unless stopped, to go get that Raen some damn beef udon.

Botan sat on the stool in the room, and just waited. That tail swishing. Good. Though her attention was fixed on Sari again. Academic curiosity in that gaze.

The nurse was sure to return the bow with a smile before returning to the clinic. She had to write everything in the changeover log for the day shift and what supplies had been used...as per Mitsue and Mashuel's rules.

As for Sari, he drifted in and out of awareness. But that gaze on him pulled him more to reality. He tiredly looked over, pale and a mess from his sobbing earlier. "...can you see what it is...?"

"A thing of the Steppe. This is what their old knowledge tells me..." A hand lifts and taps one horn. Though the shadows are watching. "Well it is my knowledge now."

This is a reference to the Xaela back in the Steppe she had first aetherically devoured to fix her own aether. With it perfectly assimilated she was back to the pale flesh and red hair rather than that ugly dark complexion she never liked. Not that she was a vain creature. Not like her mess of a dead father.

"It is what kept you alive."

"...then it wasn't a nightmare." Slowly he pulled the sheets up to his chin. Ugh he was utterly drained on every other possible level. "I can't die then."

Of course...of course. The one solace he could bring to himself, denied.

"Death is not an escape." Botan said in an observant matter. "You simply pass the burden of pain to those you leave behind." A flick of the tail. "Look at your friend who tried so hard to fight to keep you alive too."

"...he shouldn't have."

Why? Yes, he and Akio had had some good times. But they'd known each other for a few moons. Why would he...bother?

Botan didn't even frown. She just fixed her unblinking gaze on Sari. What a dumb question. The tail flicked and she simply breathed deep of the pain killing smoke.

"Every life is precious, even those that are destined to be eaten." Botan explained. "It's not about the why and the who, it is about the preciousness of that gift. The holiness of that cycle."

"I don't want it..."

How was any of this a gift? Being left alone again and again. Never being granted a happy ending...

"...can you check on Obinata-san? I think he hurt his hands earlier."

It was just then that Akio entered once more, hands wrapped to keep that blood from getting into the udon.

"I do believe I have a delivery!" he announced, far too cheerful for what had happened and how he'd felt not a quarter bell earlier.

He smiled bright, looking to Botan as he held the noodles. "Where do you want me to put these?"

Botan looked at Akio.

There is something broken in this one.

Though she at least kept the thought in her head and didn't blurt it out with the same heavy handed honesty she served Sari. That ivory tail flicked, and hands reached out for the udon. In an instant she had the chop sticks plucking up a swirl of the good beefy udon to take a bite.

Any harsh words of knowledge were lost for now. She would just chew and think. Though she did look at the wrapped hands.

No it required none of her energy, let the other woman handle it.

Meanwhile in the bed, Sari had to look away. Hand clenched in the sheets. How could he look at Akio after that?

Fortunately he was saved as the nurse came by after cleanup to see that blood. "Obinata-san! What are you doing? Over here!" She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him over to a medical station.

Akio had opened his mouth, wanting to speak with Sari- but then he was dragged away, and he laughed slightly. It would be easy for him to resist, but he let himself follow as if he were no stronger than a child, tail fluttering behind him.

"Hai hai, my apologies miss!"

Botan had a moment where she felt like laughing, but didn't. Though her gaze went back to Sari.

"Fate, the Twelve, the Kami, or whatever has given you something, Sari. An opportunity." She moved chopsticks lazily through the soup, gathering noodles. The fat things rolled around through the beef brother as she seemed to play with her food. "An opportunity that you can take, face them down with, and carve your way through the hell you've been given. The question is," she lifted the roll of noodles hanging from the chopsticks, "will you tear down your tormentors, or let them devour you?"

Those eyes looked to him unblinking. "After all, the thing attached to you does look delicious."

"Then take it." There may have been a bit of a snap to his tone.

Botan shook her head. "Looking delicious and wanting to eat it are different things." Udon noodles were slurped in not-so-graceful a way. "I want to see you challenge your path, Sari. Show whatever gods there are in this world that you will not sit under their heel no more. That is what I really want, because you're a dear friend not a morsel."

"I don't give a shite about any of that!" he snapped, fangs bared.It seemed sorrow had warped to anger.

He covered his face. It was so unlike him to be like this.

No one understood. No one got that he was so bloody tired!

Akio, from where he'd been taken by the nurse, looked up. It hadn't been hard to hear that in the quiet of the clinic. How he wanted to go to the poor man's side, offer him some comfort, even if he didn't want it.

A soft sigh escaped him, and he looked down once more, to watch as the Raen woman did her work.

Botan shrugged. The girl wasn't going to push back and forth with him, and simply moved to stand. There was a look at Akio, and she just left the room to go back to her hiding place in the back room to finish her noodles and get back to sleeping. It wasn't her place to fix broken minds and hearts after all.

The Auri nurse was very obviously troubled with the back and forth, but unsure of what to say. So she kept to bandaging Akio's hands, both disinfected and wrapped firmly.

"There. I know it's difficult but try to limit as much use as you can. Ask for help in tasks, alright?"

Akio smiled warmly, tilting his head to the side. "Hai," he said with a playful sort of reluctance. "If I must trouble others, then I shall under the doctor's orders." A crooked grin given to the Raen woman, before he stood with a bow of thanks, making his way back to Sari's bedside.

The Xaela's anger still simmered but there was no one to direct it towards and it quickly fizzled out as he stared out the window. A cold rain had started, obscuring the moon's light over Shirogane. Depressing. Fitting.

"Sari-san..."

The name was soft, gentle, as Akio watched the other Xaela, expression turning sympathetic, perhaps almost sad, if not for that smile staying in place. It ill befitted the scene.

That burned side was closest to Akio, hiding the one good eye which closed at the sound of his voice.

Anger that he'd been stopped.

Anger that, even if he hadn't been, it wouldn't have meant anything.

Sorrow that someone had to witness all of that.

It's why Sari had slunk off and away.

"...I'm sorry. You should take some painkillers and rest."

"I am not leaving you alone."

Despite the gentle tone, it was, once again, firm. Resolute. Akio simply watched as he sat there, watched the Xaela stare out the window, at the rain.

He wanted to be angry, himself, but he couldn't bring himself to be. He was just.... sad. He wanted to help, even if the two of them were near strangers.

"I will be perfectly fine," he added now, tail curling to one side as he leaned back, smiling. "It is nothing I have not endured before. Perhaps less so."

The Xaela chuckled, tilting his head to one side.

"....I am sorry to have stopped you, Sari-san..." Once again that quiet, gentle tone. Almost regretful, but not quite.

What could he say to that? That he accepted the apology? No.

He'd wanted to go. He still did. But that wasn't an option anymore.

....so what did he say?

"Please don't tell anyone else. I don't want to..." Deal with it.

They'd care for a few moments, fuss over him. Then fade back into their happy lives once more. He didn't want to ne envious, bitter. Sari was glad those he knew had found peace. But...he'd wanted it too.

"...You need help."

It was a quiet observation, the Xaela almost frowning. Almost. He couldn't let the mask drop again, not like that. By the Kami....

He lowered his head, hands folded together against his forehead as he stared at the floor. What did he answer with? He couldn't just not tell the priests, or Ritsuka. Sari needed to be put on suicide watch, to keep him from doing it again. He needed help....

He needed to want it first, though, this much Akio knew. It was a universal truth to many problems. Someone who didn't want help would only reject it.

"I am certain you are angry with me," he said softly. "And I am certain that you will be angry with me for my answer. But you must understand, I am bound, by contract and honor, to report this."

"Feck honor," was the snap, though he kept staring at the window.

What did honor do? The twisted pride of the Steppe? The samurai code those at Kotodama supposedly adhered to? The Grand Company that had thrown him aside because of something he couldn't control?

Akio let out a breath, brow furrowing now.

"I will not throw aside mine to suit the ends of another."

Grumbles in Xaelic as Sari rolled over despite the pain of his injury. No, he didn't want to deal with this. He may say something more he'd regret.

Safe from death, perhaps, but not safe from the recovery that came of the incident.

Another sigh, and Akio settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his front as he closed his eyes. He likely wouldn't sleep tonight, instead meditating. Some form of rest, while keeping alert.

"I said I would not leave you alone, Sari-san," he said gently. "I mean this, as an oath." And Akio did not break his oaths.

"I didn't ask for your oath," was the grumpy mumble as he pulled the blanket over his head.

Nor did he ask for acceptance. But he didn't voice this aloud, simply remaining silent now.

And silence met silence as Sari tried to sleep. As much as he didn't want to, the stress of high emotions and whatever his body was doing sapped him.

Eventually with the sound of the cold winter rain, his eye shut and he drifted off in the darkness of his blanket lair.

#roleplay

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trashboatprince · 5 years

Text

I know I have fifty million fics to work on, but this idea came to mind and I just had to write it up. It’s involved in the little series I have for the whole Alice/Susie thing with Alice saving the studio, this is just after they first met. If you wanna read that, there is a fanfic for it through Susie’s POV I wrote up on ao3.

Ships: Alice/Susie

On with the fic!

Alice was quiet as she followed after the taller woman, who carried her along with the old rope that was wrapped around her hands and wrists. She pouted a little, trying to undo them, but as the damsel of the series, rope knots were… knot her specialty, haha. Okay, she couldn’t help herself, she was also a comedian, and a great one at that.

Her large eyes looked around the old, wooden halls they passed through, seeing posters for all sorts of Bendy cartoons, majority of them starred her, or included her as part of the cast. Alice had even spotted cutouts of herself, several she knew were promotional material for some big shorts, others were the generic one of her standing on a cloud.

Oooh! There was even a pile of plush toys of her in a corner as they took a sharp turn.

“Where are we going, miss?” Alice asked, finally breaking the silence since she was dropped (rather rudely, if she might add) to the floor from the trap she had stupidly stepped on. The other turned her head to look at the toon, a golden eye staring down at her, swimming in a sea of black.

“We’re going to a very special room of mine, only angels allowed.” Her voice was lovely, much like Alice’s own, but the little angel knew that it wasn’t her own. Sure, yes, it seemed to be overlapped by another, but Alice wasn’t stupid.

Toons knew the people that worked on them, that were behind their creation, it was practically imprinted in their ink.

‘Do you really think I’ll be the perfect voice for her? I don’t feel like I’m worthy of someone so perfect.’

This pretty angel before her had a much different voice, a sweet one that could make birds sing with her if she sang them a song. Not that the voice she had was anything terrible, in fact, it was just as lovely, but sometimes… you can’t beat an original, right?

One last hall and they came to a door, marked in ink. Alice frowned at all the markings, seals of protection, from demonic creatures. It made her swallow loudly, poor Bendy would be hurt if he ever got close to these…

The other angel opened the door and allowed Alice in with a curt nod, a sly smile on those black-painted lips. Alice thanked her as she stepped inside, surprised to see that it was a rather clean room, much different from the many stained and damaged ones around the studio. It was set up like a little home, with whatever material this lady could find, which was a lot of Alice content.

Alice couldn’t hide the smile on her face when she realized this is where the giant plushes of herself had gone from the toy factory. “So, what did you need me for? I mean, aside from adding me to your lovely collection, hehehe.” She winked at her savior-captor, who seemed to be a bit startled by the reaction.

But that lasted a moment, she was quick to recover as she stepped to the door, looking down at Alice when she closed it. “I think you answered your own question there, my dear.” She smirked, locking the door.

This seemed like a dangerous situation, but the toon didn’t seem threatened as she looked at the other angel.

Now that she wasn’t upside down, Alice could actually look at her. This other Alice was tall, her outfit was similar to Alice’s own, though there was much more black involved. Though, Alice really enjoyed the little addition of the bow on the back of the dress.

Her face showed scars on the left side, her eyes were gold but the left was black as well, and there was a slash at her throat. The other’s horns were longer, sharper, and her halo was damaged. She even seemed to have two extra beauty marks, just under that left eye of hers. Oh, she knew those little marks anywhere.

‘Can you give her a beauty mark? Under her eye? I-It doesn’t have to be like mine…!’

Alice couldn’t help but feel a bit of heat come to her face, wow, so it really was her after all. Her first voice actress, and her influencer, Susie.

Golly, what happened to such a lovely lady to have her change so much. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, but Alice would have liked for Susie to be, well, herself. Not that she minds Susie wanting to be more like her, but…

“What happened to you, Susie?”

Alice immediately regretted the innocent question, the glare she was given looked like it could slice her open. Susie stared at her before stepping closer, her heels loudly clicking in such a quiet room.

“What… did you say, little angel?” There was a strain to her voice and Alice shivered, her halo shaking above her head.

“I-I was… I was just asking what happened to you, Su-” The hitch of the other’s breath, the horrible, burning stare, made Alice speak quickly. “Alice! What happened to you, Alice! I mean, your poor halo, it’s all bent outta shape, let me help you…!” She reached up with her bound hands and Susie stepped back, glowering.

“Look,” the taller angel started, “if you want to keep that pretty head of yours on that lovely neck, you’d be wise to never say that name to me or around me. She’s long gone, there is no Susie here, there is just me, Alice Angel.”

Once Alice nodded her head rapidly in understand, Susie relaxed, her smirk returning. “Good, you’re such a smart girl under that halo.” She gave it a small flick, the sound of a bell rang through the room, like something from a cartoon. “As for your questions… a terrible machine and a man did this to me. I was offered something wonderful, and all I got was this. But that’s easy to fix, I just need the right parts. And I’ll have you help me out, my dear.”

Gently, Susie guided Alice to the couch in the room, sitting her down on it. “Will you help make me a beautiful angel again?”

‘Even though she’s fallen, is she still a perfect angel? She is? That’s wonderful!’

“I… suppose so, but I don’t see why I’m needed.” Alice spoke, blinking. “You’re already beautiful as it is.”

Once again, she caught the taller woman off-guard. Alice smiled at the hint of color to the other’s cheeks before she yelped at the hand that pushed her face back as few inches. “Flattery will get you nowhere here, girly.”

“Oh, but I think it did. I mean, I’m already in your private chambers, doll.” Alice grinned before planting a kiss on the palm of Susie’s hand, which was suddenly pulled back. The other’s eyes were wide as she looked between her hand and Alice, who just smiled sweetly at her.

Susie stepped back, stammering a little to herself, before moving back towards the angel, working on untying the rope around her hands. “J-Just stay there. I need to go check on my other traps, don’t get into anything while I’m away, and don’t leave. You can’t escape me; I have eyes everywhere.”

“And they’re currently on me!” Alice giggled and got a look from Susie, making her close her mouth. She was still smiling though, even when Susie stepped away, leaving the room with an axe. Once she was alone, Alice sighed, leaning back against the couch.

She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply through her nose before pausing, sniffing. The couch smells interesting. She sniffed it again, it was… sweet, but there was something else included in it.

The old blanket and pillow at one end told her that this was Susie’s bed here, so of course it smells like her.

It smells so lovely, like honey! Alice remembered in her creation, when she was being ‘brought to life’ on pen and paper, of Susie’s voice. She was talking to the artist who designed her, Henry, giving him ideas. Sure, a lot of them were silly and didn’t really seem like plot heavy things, just more like ideas for Susie to enjoy herself.

But there was one interesting one she remembered, Alice’s personal scent.

‘I’d like to believe she smells like honey and milk.’ Susie mumbled, looking embarrassed as she sat next to Henry Stein, the artist pausing in his inking of one of his headshots for Alice Angel.

‘Honey and milk?’ He asked, clearly amused and curious. ‘Any reason why?’

‘Well… from what I remember from my old Sunday school days, God was from the land of milk and honey, so Heaven, right? And Alice is from there, so wouldn’t she smell like that? Such a sweet, homey, safe scent…’ Susie smiled softly, looking at the drawings.

‘Makes sense. Heh, yeah, she can have that as her perfume or somethin’.’

Honey, that’s what Alice was smell, but there was another scent that had her worried. Ashes, she smelled the scent of burnt ashes mixed with such a sweet aroma.

Such a scent was associated with death.

She remembered the slash across Susie’s throat… oh dear, what happened to her since she was replaced? Whatever it was, it made her an angel that wore a perfume of sweet death.

END

Ten points to whoever gets my really obscure reference about honey and ashes.

And yes, Alice was totally flirting cause she is very aware of Susie’s crush, which isn’t to say that she’s not crushing herself. Also, this whole fanfic is self-indulgent, but then again, I’ve noticed a lot of content for this ship is and that’s beautiful.

As for the beauty mark comment, my headcanon for Susie is that she has two under her left eye. And this is pre-canon Malice design, so her face isn’t quite… Ink Demon-damaged as it is, she’s pretty close to being perfect, but he messes everything up for her later on.

Thanks for reading!

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #alice angel #susie campbell #alice x susie #malice angel #john's drabbles

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writingkeepsmewhole · 5 years

Text

The Cowboy and The Girl.

Okay here it is the first part of my Joel Miller fic. I’m so excited to do this! You don’t even know. This part is mainly back story but I think it sets up well. Tell me what yall think. I hope yall love it as much as me! Okay I’m shutting up now.

Trish was a bright girl skipping a grade or two. She thought her life was perfect until the end of the world came. Living on her own mostly just trying to make it back home everything changes when she meets a dark haired man named Joel.

Joel Miller x OC Trish

Warnings: A word or two.

Taglist. Tell me if you wanna be added: @amandamaesweetheart @jodiereedus22

Before Sitting on my hotel bed I brushed my hair it still wet from the shower. I needed it after the long day of walking around and looking at the sites. We were in New York. A school field trip. Being alone from my parents at fourteen was definitely exciting.

“You know he is going to propose.” Belle my best friend since the 3d grade says sitting on the bed in front of mine. Her chocolate skin looking flawless from the lotion she just put on. We both skipped from 1st so we stuck together always being the youngest in class.

“Shut up no he won’t.” I say her talking about my boyfriend.

“I bet he will. He is crazy about you.”

“So? We are too young to get married.”

“I said propose not get married.”

“Then what be engaged threw school? What about when we go to college?”

“Why not?”

“Because..”

“Because?”

“I don’t know if I want to marry him.” I say shrugging.

“What? Since when?” She asks throwing a chip at me making me laugh.

“Since he is afraid of everything. I mean I get it his dad is a doctor and it's probably scary and God knows what he reads about or sees but when he starts telling me what weird diseases I can get from doing my laundry at the laundromat is ridiculous. Like tonight I took a drink of his pop and he flipped out.”

“So he don’t like sharing food, a lot of people are like that.”

“Yeah I know but I want a man not whatever he is turning into.”

“Like a lumberjack?” She asks making me laugh.

“No, like someone who will protect me, someone who can put up with my crazy ass and doesn't make me make all the decisions. Someone-.”

“Who lets you steal their food.” She says pointing at me.

“That.” I say smiling.

“No, he is a good guy he just worries so much. Like let me breathe.”

“Ohh I know a cowboy.” She says making me laugh.

“Yes! I want a cowboy I can saddle up with.”

“Kinky.”

“You are so gross.” I say throwing my pillow at her.

“Hey I’m being a supportive best friend.”

“As you should be.”

“Well I guess I should let you get to bed. Have fun dreaming about your cowboy.” She says standing up walking to the door.

“I promise to give you the details.”

“Oh you better.” She says smiling.

“Good night love.” I say waving at her getting under the blankets.

“Night boo.”

I woke up to the phone ringing in my hotel room. I pick it up and press it to my ear someone panting on the other side.

“Hello?” I ask sitting up hearing someone run down the hall.

“Trish is that you?” Asks the familiar voice of boyfriend.

“What’s going on Louie?” I ask sitting up.

“I don’t know, there is some kind of disease, people eating each-.”

“Louie?” I ask into the phone when the call drops.

“Well that was weird.” I say getting up seeing the sun start to rise.

Stretching I walk to the bathroom but stop when someone screams. When my doorknob starts to rattle I back away from it fear pumping threw me.

Going to the phone I pick it up nothing coming threw not even a tile town. I pick up my cell phone it having no service.

“What the hell?” I ask turning to the TV.

Turning it on what I left on a movie channel was the news. A woman looking scared and rasled.

“Reports are coming in from all over there is a nation wide atack. Please remain indoors until a local officer can get you somewhere saver. Please do not panic if you see someone-.” I jump as the TV turns to loud static.

“I gotta get out of here.” I think getting up and quickly changing.

Grabbing my backpack I put some clothes inside it, and all the snacks the hotel offers. Picking up the necklace with my parents picture inside it I put it on. Them giving it to me when I left for this trip.

“Please be okay.” I say sending up a pray to protect them until I got back.

Picking up the map of New York all the students given one I shove it in my bag as well.

I put the pack over my shoulder and open my hotel door. When I find the hallways empty I take a relieved breath.

At the end of the hall being the elevator I slowly start to make my way towards it. Hearing footsteps I freeze up as someone walks out of a room.

“Benny you scared me.” I say looking at him.

He stubbles making me assume he is drunk. When he lifts his head to look at me I gasp as his mouth is covered in blood.

Screaming he lunges at me.

I turn around and starting running in the opposite direction him close behind me. Seeing an arrow pointing to the stairs I push that door open and start running down the steps. Seeing a woman leaning on the wall her holding her stomach I stop.

She looks up at me her eyes foggy.

“He bit me.” She says her head falling forward her passing out.

Holding back tears I continue to the ground floor it opening in the car garage. I jump at the sound of sirens and horns fill my ears.

Every car is trying to get out at the same time them slamming into each other.

“Hey!” Someone says grabbing my arm.

I spin around seeing my best friend Belle standing there.

“Oh my gosh!” I say pulling her into a tight hug.

“We gotta get out of here. These people are crazy!” She says pulling me with her.

“It was on the news. Some nation wide thing!” I yell as we weave threw the cars. When we get out on the main road everyone is running around screaming.

“Trish! Belle!” John yells pulling up next to us him in not his own car.

“Come on.” He says looking at us threw the window.

“It’s better on foot.”

“We’ll be saver in a car.” Belle says getting into the car with him.

“Belle come with me you won’t get far in that.”

“Stop being stupid and come on.” She says waving me in.

“I’m not going.” I say backing up something telling me to stay on foot.

“Be stupid then.” He says driving off.

Feeling alone more than ever I start running not knowing where I'm going just away from here.

Hearing screams I duck down behind some trash cans I alone runs past me and slams into a wall not getting back up when it falls.

“What’s going on?” I ask quickly getting away from the body.

Pulling my map out I look at it seeing where the nearest police station is. Seeing that it’s only a block away I put the map back and start to head that way avoiding the people running past me.

Walking around the corner I realize what they were running from a turned over car is in the middle of the road it on fire.

Even from where I stand I can see the bodies inside them dead. Belle’s lifeless eyes staring into mine.

15 Years Later.

I sit up with a start my heart pounding. Sweating from the dream, or memory I should say. I rub my face trying not to think about the job ahead of me today. I would have to go hunting. I didn’t mind it and wasn’t half bad after ten years of practice but I didn’t know if that group had past threw. I didn’t feel like having to kill anymore.

Hearing the birds chirp outside the spring air drifting thru the old house. I roll my shoulders my back cracking as I stretch my arms over my head.

Picking up my bow and quiver I pick up my canteen needing fresh water.

‘Might take a bath today.’ I think walking out of the house.

It used to be a cabin tourist rented now it was just a cabin in the woods of Tennessee. I don’t know why I kept trying to get back home but I figured I made it this far for a reason.

‘Maybe they are still alive.’ I think following a deer trail.

I walk back to the cabin a rabbit strapped to my hip and a shirt full of berries in my hand. Walking into the house I don’t notice the door being open. The lock was busted a while ago so a breeze could open it.

Setting the food down in the kitchen I take off my bow when the floor over my head cracks. Looking up I watch the dust as something moves over the floor.

‘Please don’t be a bear.’ I think to myself as I dock an arrow and head for the steps.

‘Anything but a bear.’ I think as I push the bedroom door open with my foot.

I stop when I see a man past out on the bed. His feet still on the floor his arm and chest covered in blood. Not counting the busted lip and nose.

‘I would have took the bear.’ I think letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Why do I always have to be the one patching someone up?” I asks myself walking to the bathroom.

Getting what little supplies I had I sit them on the bed.

“Hey!” I call out to him getting nothing.

“Oh don’t be dead.” I say reaching up to shake him again getting nothing.

“Oh come on.” I say pressing my fingers into his neck smiling when I feel a pulse.

“Yes! Atta boy!”

“Now to get you patched up.” I say moving to unbutton his flanel.

I don’t really think about what I’m doing until I hear a groan.

I look up at him his brown eyes meeting mine.

“The hell?” He mumbles his southern accent the first thing I notice.

I don’t bother replying him passing out.

“Alright Cowboy let's fix you up.” I say pushing the fabric to the side an angry gash on his side. His shoulder looking like a stitched up bullet wound had popped back open but other then that he was fine.

Cleaning his side off I set to to sowing him up, him not waking up while I do it. After I’m done I rebutton his shirt and go to make food.

I checked on the stranger in my bed throughout the night him not waking up but he was still alive so I didn’t worry to much.

The next morning I was in the kitchen mixing the berries I found with the nuts I found almost a week ago when I heard a bored creek.

Grabbing the knife on my hip I freeze when an arm wraps around my throat. Judging by the fact my head was pressed against someone’s chest. This was the man from upstairs.

“Good morning to you too.” I say lifting my hands where he could see them.

“Where am I?” He asks his country twang proving my guess.

“Earth last I checked.” I say resulting in him tightening his grip slighting.

“Okay, don’t like jokes sorry. You are in my house. I’m Trish by the way nice to meet you.”

“Who else is with you?” He asks his breath fanning over my face.

“No one. Just me.”

“Your alone out here?”

“Yeah, so if your gonna kill me go ahead.”

“You patched me up?” He asks his grip losing.

“Sure did. One hell of a way to thank someone.”

Grunting he lets go of me and takes a step back. Turning around to face him I realize how big he is. He was easily a head taller than me, his wide shoulders making me feel very tiny.

“Your welcome by the way.” I say him letting out a grunt as he looks me up and down.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Well I was gonna eat breakfast. You are welcome to join me if...” I say meeting his brown eyes.

“You give me your name. Not unless you are cool with being called Cowboy for the rest of your time here.” I say him lifting the corner of his mouth.

“Joel.”

Smiling I hand him my bowl of food.

“Nice to me Joel. I’m Trish.”

5 Years Later: Summer

I was sitting in front of the window watching the sunset the room around me so silent I could almost hear my heart beat. It was times like these when I was alone I wish I could just run away. Live on a farm out in the woods be free. I touch my necklace the locket making me smile. It was tarnished and the picture inside faded but it lasted all these years that I was thankful for.

Hearing footsteps come down the hall I turn my head to look at the door.

The infected couldn’t turn the knob so I wasn’t worried about that. Watching the knob turn I lift my gun it cocked and aimed a familiar face at the end of the barrel.

“Cowboy!” I say grinning lowing my gun.

“Fucking hell Trish what the hell are you doing here?” Joel asks shutting the door behind the girl who’s with him.

“I needed somewhere to lie low.”

“What did you do now?” He asks his scowl set in place.

“Nothing... “

“Wanna try again?”

“Umm I’m sorry but who are you?” The girl asks pulling us out of are soon to be argument.

“Oh sorry I’m Trish and you?”

When she doesn't answer I cock an eyebrow at her.

“Ellie.” She says sighing.

“Nice to meet ya Ellie.” I say smiling holding my hand out to her.

She takes it shaking it and quickly letting go.

“No need to be scared of me. I’m harmless right Joel?” I ask looking at him.

“If you think annoying the hell out of me is harmless then yes you are.”

“He likes it.” I say winking at her as he lays back on the couch rubbing his head.

“You wanna tell me why you are here?”

“I may or may not have stabbed a guard.”

“Why did you go an do something like that?”

“He thought he knew something about you and Tess smuggling and try to get it out of me. So I made him forget.”

“That how you got that.” He asks most likely looking at my busted lip.

“I've had worse.”

“So you two like know each other?” Ellie asks looking between us.

“More or less.” Joel says closing his eyes.

“Five years. We’ve known each other for five years.” I say looking at her.

“How did you two meet?” She asks sitting in the chair next to me.

“Oh I’m not getting paid enough for this.” He says rubbing his face and laying down on the couch.

“Need a nap old man?”

I grin when he lets out a growl.

“Does he know his watch is broken?” Ellie asks making me look from Joel to her.

“Yeah he knows.” I say softly hoping she understands that's a topic that is not talked about.

I was the type to tell you my whole life story. I knew Joel for five years and only in the past year found out he even had a child at one point.

“So how did you two meet?”

“Oh right, I was living in a cabin at the time, come home, find him half dead on my bed. I patch him up and when he comes to he repays me but trying to snap my neck. Fun times really.” I say smiling getting off the busted heater I was sitting on.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because he is an angry old bear that gets poked easily.” I say walking to my bag but stop when Joel’s hand wraps around my wrist.

“Will you two shut up?” He asks his eyes never opening.

“What are we supposed to do if we can’t talk?”

“I’m sure you will figure that out.” He says letting go of my wrist his arm going to lay over his eyes.

“Fine.” I say moving to the other end of the couch I push at his feet making them fall off the couch him lifting his head to glare at me.

“What? You and little miss are clearly waiting for something Tess I’m guessing and if Im not aloud to talk then I got to find some way to kill the time.” I say sitting down.

“What should I do?” Ellie asks looking at me.

I don’t get to reply Joel putting his feet in my lap a smirk on his face his eyes once again closed.

“I’m gonna kill him.” I mouth to her making her snicker.

Smiling I lean my head back on the couch letting the silence settle over us. Sleep quickly taking over me.

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madammuffins · 5 years

Text

Fairy Summers is a short story request by @vhum for my 300 follower celebration.

It is a World of Make Believe AU featuring Chelsea x Puck told over a series of summers as they age together and manouver through lifes struggles, fantastical and mortal.

I will be uploading in parts just for easier reading. Also, playlist.

CW: Contains coming-of-age themes, familial abuse suggestion.

~*~*~*~

She didn't really understand what the old lady in black was saying. Chelsea did like being able to wear her blue sparkly dress though, and her shoes echoed on the wood floors. ʻAnakē Susie placed a hard hand on her shoulder, stilling her squirming body.

"Seeing as no other relatives are here to claim the child, we've already run over an hour on this case, and sadly Mr. and Mrs. Kalua's living will was not legally notarized… " The old lady leaned forward, "Chelsea, dear?"

The young girls hands gripped the chair, ʻAnakē Susie's hand still on her shoulder, her thumb digging in against her shoulder. "Yes?"

"Do you like your mother's cousin?" She motioned, her sleeve billowed. "Would you like to stay with them?"

"Oh I love sleepovers!" Chelsea beamed. "We always sleepover when we visit Hawaii." She kicked her legs, bouncing against the chair. "For weeks!"

"Yes." The judge grinned, her face softening kindly. "Would you like to live with your mother's cousins? Now that your parents aren't with us."

Chelsea frowned at that, "I guess." She answered slow, chipped nail finding a divot in the wood, "but I'll have to go home with them when they come back."

"I'm afraid she still doesn't completely understand, Your Honor." Susan's arm snaked around her soon-to-be ward, the picture of concern. "It's such a terrible concept-"

"And she is so young." The judge nodded. "Very well. Let's wrap this up, shall we? The court rules in favor of the plaintiff Susan Kalua suing for legal guardianship of Chelsea Kalua. As her foster mother you will receive monthly sums to offset the cost of support. From here on out you, Mrs. Kalua, and your husband," Hard grey eyes moved to the bodies on the first bench just behind Susan, "will be expected to treat Chelsea as a member of your family. A daughter of your own."

"Of course!" Susan nodded, eyes glistening, matte pink lips pressed together and wobbling.

Chelsea wriggled against the fingers digging into her arms. In the muggy heat of Hawaiian summer the blue dress had become suffocating.

~*~*~

Chelsea pulled her knees to her chin, watching Anakala Joe pull the pig from the kalua. The smell of roasted pineapple and coconut and spices hit her square in the stomach.

"Anakē," she shifted on the tree root, "Anakē Susie I'm so hungry."

"Excuse me, Sis." Susie turned from the table, "I gotta lolo keiki."

The auntie chuckled as she continued chopping. Chelsea's brows furrowed as she watched Susan wipe her hands on a rag that she shoved back into her apron.

Chelsea unraveled slowly, I'm not crazy.

Susan's hand was still sticky when she grabbed Chelsea's arm. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail but the summer had the loose strands sticking to her neck. Chelsea didn't like that she smelled of mangos and onions. The combination made her feel sick as her bare feet stumbled hard over uneven ground, struggling to keep up with too long strides.

"Anakē-" Chelsea's protest cutoff when Susan threw her arm like it was scalding her.

"I am your mother now, keiki." She crouched down, voice hard and scratching. Her eyes were cold. "Tsk, aisus."

Chelsea shuddered at the warmth flooding into her skin through fingertips that now stroked instead of clenched. "I-I want Mama."

"I know, Chells." Susan's eyes closed, her voice was heavy. "I want her, too. But, darling, she's gone. She's never coming back. I'm your Mama now. I'm your mom. Call me mom." Lids snapped open as fingers tightened, shaking the child quick, tight, violent. "Call me mom."

The demand was hot and tight in Chelsea's chest. "I-I want Daddy. I want Dad…" The breeze rustling the trees nearly swallowed her words.

"Call me Mom."

It hurt, the demand. Weaving up into Chelsea's head mingling with the smell making her eyes water.

"Okay, Mom."

Susan's grip loosened, soothing over the sore fingerprint sized aches. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Those eyes dipped below unruly hair to peer into tearing eyes. "Don't cry."

"Okay, Mom." Chelsea knew obedience would make her new mom happy; she swallowed the confusion and pain.

"Ah my good girl." Mom stood, patting Chelsea's head. "I need to finish cooking. Dinner smells amazing. Be back in half an hour we won't wait for you. Tardy girls don't get Haupia Pie and Uncle's made the best this year."

"Yes, Mom…" Chelsea watched the woman stand and walk away toward the large strung lights and revelry.

And she immediately went in the opposite direction. Her feet carried her over the smooth path. Her Uncle's house was far from the tourist attractions, the ground lush from volcanic fertile growth. The stars peeked around the fading velvety pink and navy sky. She passed by The Spot, a not so local secret swimming place, watching a few of her older cousins and her new brother splashing before continuing on; as if she could outrun the nightmare by wandering the wilds.

Night caught up to her quickly, the sky so full of starlight it looked as though it were diseased. Chelsea felt the prick of worry grip her stomach. She knew the island well, but not at night. At night the land was different, wilder, stranger. At night the trees were taller, the noises louder, the shadows were things creeping around to grab at her. Chelsea's hands tangled in her My Little Pony shirt as her legs churned faster. Red glowing blurs blinked and vanished in the distance.

Faster.

Something in the dark chuckled.

Faster.

The hair on her arms and neck pricked, chicken skin flooded over her as she broke into a run, her chest heaving. She could hear a second set of footfalls behind her. Heavier. Faster.

"No!" Her little voice cried out, her eyes watered. "Please!"

A fork in the road, she veered off the path she didn't recognize. The footsteps slowed, walking after her. She could feel it enjoying this. Her body shuddered as her lungs burned, her feet felt like lead as she rounded a sharp turn.

Ahead was a cave. She could hide there.

Chelsea ran for it, training her eyes on the rocky maw. The footsteps behind picking up pace, loping after her. It didn't matter. It wouldn't catch her now.

She crossed from dirt onto the smooth rock, going slow to avoid cutting her feet. The thing screeched and howled and paced just feet beyond the entrance, but didn't follow. Couldn't follow.

Chelsea didn't look back. Wouldn't look back. She knew better. Chelsea had heard the stories of the things that walked on the islands. She knew if she looked it would have her. Besides, deeper in the cave she could hear music and there was a glow.

Laughter like none she'd ever heard before, clear and musical. Like running water and bells and violins. It all echoed down the cave to her, beckoning her. And so she followed. The rock turned to moss, vines, fern, and mushrooms began springing up thicker and thicker as she continued, as the light got brighter and the voices louder.

A blinding light greeted her; enveloped her. When her eyes adjusted she saw the most fantastical party of imaginary people she had never dreamed. Moving through them they welcomed her, touching her hair, twirling her to the beat, using their butterfly wings to take her higher, higher above the trees and gently floating back down.

Some had goat legs, some had hair made of flowers, others had eyes of red fire. It was the one with hair like water that grabbed her hand at last, stopping the endless twirling and dipping and spinning.

"Come, my child." Its voice rang like three people were talking at once. "Let's feed you. You are hungry are you not, my sweet?"

Awed at the way its skin glimmered gold Chelsea could only nod. She was suddenly very hungry; so hungry she could eat everything at the table the beautiful imaginary person led her to.

There were pies and tarts and breads and custards. Cakes and treacle and juices.

"We're cooking a pig back at Uncle's house." Chelsea grinned up at the creature, lost in the galaxy eyes.

"Were you, my doll?" Its long hand grabbed a wooden cup, filling it with a honey colored juice that smelled like poplars. "We don't eat much meat here. That's for the other kind."

Chelsea reached for her juice. "Oh I'm thirsty."

"I know, sweet one." Fingers dropped to her hair, tangled in it, slid down, repeated. "We have so few children play with us these days. You're such a delight. Will you drink and stay longer?"

Chelsea looked up, "I can't stay long. My new mom-my mom. She doesn't like being my new mom. She's just mom now…" Little fingers dug into the grooves of the cup. "She said I have to be home in half an hour. I won't get dinner if I'm not."

"Oh, Dear." It smiled softly, hand wrapping around her own. "We have so much food for you here."

Chelsea's eyes lit with glee. "You do! Mom won't mind if I already eat, right?"

"No, little one. Now drink and eat. Stay and dance with me? Be my friend. Please?"

Those endless eyes gazed at her and Chelsea smiled, raising the cup to her lips when a blur smacked it out of her hands.

"No!"

"Puck!" The imaginary person rose, eyes narrowed. "How dare-"

"Oh, look!" The little imaginary person craned around to gaze at the table, "Pigsnout, Taft, and Luffkin are fighting over the pies again!"

The imaginary being tensed, mouth opening and closing before turning and storming off towards the mess of bodies on the table.

"Don't you know anything!" The little green and gold person turned on her. "You humans are all so stupid."

Chelsea squeaked when he grabbed her hand.

"You don't eat the food, you don't drink the- Hey!"

She pulled out of his grip, hands tracing over his wings. "Are you real?" Moving to knocking on his horns, "Are you imaginary?" She pinched at his skin. "Am I-"

"Stop!" He stomped, turning to her. "My name is Puck. Oh!" He covered his mouth, "I shouldn't have told you that."

"Why not?" Chelsea's head tilted as he grabbed a handful of treats.

"It's a fairy thing." He shrugged, popping a piece of food in his mouth. "C'Mon. I'll take you home."

"I…" Chelsea looked back at the fae dancing and playing. "What if I want to stay here?"

It was his turn to look at her curiously. "You would be stuck as a kid and finally returned home after a hundred years."

Brown eyes widened. "A HUNDRED YEARS?! That's like a whole lifetime."

Puck snorted, wings fluttering. "Yeah. Let's go."

He grabbed her hand again, leading her further away from the fairies and music and food. Chelsea's feet found smooth volcanic rock again.

"Oh." She tugged on his hand, making him pause midchew. "There was a-a thing out there."

He frowned, swallowed. "I think I know. It won't bother us."

Chelsea's stomach growled. "Puck…"

The grass was soft under her feet, the stars winked through the trees.

"Puck I'm hungry." He shrugged, eating another bread piece. "Puck, share your food." Chelsea stomped, surprised when nearly immediately he offered his outstretched hand. "O-oh. Thank you."

"You…" he frowned, watching as she grabbed two pieces. "You shouldn't eat those."

"Too late." Chelsea swallowed guiltily. "Sorry."

Her hand found his again and he stared at it for a while. "How did you find the fairy ring? Most people who wander into them are lost or want to be lost."

"My new mom." Chelsea shuddered, moving closer to a less green, more skin colored Puck. "She's not nice. My real mom and dad are gone. They're dead. And my new mom…" Chelsea bit her lip, fingers knotting in a loose thread at her hem. "Your wings and horns are gone."

"It's my disguise." Puck's grip tightened as they passed by the still noisy swimming hole. "We're friends, right?"

Chelsea blinked, nodded. "I'm Chelsea Kalua!" She pulled her hand from his grip and presented it proudly, chest puffed out.

With a laugh he took it, "Puck Goodfellow." They shook once before interweaving their fingers again.

"But we're leaving tomorrow." Chelsea frowned.

"Don't worry, 'Little One'." He winked, smiling at her giggle as they approached the family. "I'll find you next year."

Her head snapped to him. "You will?!"

He nodded, pushing her forward as he faded to the shadows. "I know your name now. We're friends. Besides," his eyes glowed heavy green in the darkness as the rest of him vanished, "you owe me a favor."

~*~*~

Since I want to represent the Hawaiian heritage there are Pidgin and Hawaiian terms used in this short story. If something was used incorrectly please feel free to let me know.

Terms:

Aisus- sigh, shucks, darn, etc

ʻAnakē - Auntie (related)

ʻAnakala - Uncle (older brother, related)

Kalua - underground oven for pig/turkey roasts traditionally

Lolo - crazy

Keiki - Child

Haupia - A coconut pudding

Uncle - a friendly, respectful term used to refer to older men. Relation doesn't matter.

~*~*~

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