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#mother left to get supplies for the first time since it all started. it was horrifying because I knew she probably wouldn’t come back!
shadow1515 · 2 days
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Too Sweet
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Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)
You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 
Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.
Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.
You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 
One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 
Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 
Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.
“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?
You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 
“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”
The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 
You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?
The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 
“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.
At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”
Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?
“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.
The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”
You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 
Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.
“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”
“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 
You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 
The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”
“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”
A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.
Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 
The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 
At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 
Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 
A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”
His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 
“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”
Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 
The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 
“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”
His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 
You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.
Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 
Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.
You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.
“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”
You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.
“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.
The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.
“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 
His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 
The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”
So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 
“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 
“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”
The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 
In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 
The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”
Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 
You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–
A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 
“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 
“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?
Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 
“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 
He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.
The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”
Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”
Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 
It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 
“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 
You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 
You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”
The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.
Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.
“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”
His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 
The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”
Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 
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continuousmeowing · 7 months
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I fell asleep on the couch and had a dream that kind of freaked me out
#It’s five in the morning excuse me if my wording isn’t as eloquent as usual#fun claude fact: zombies freak me the fuck out#another fun claude fact: my brain loves to torment me with reoccurring zombie apocalypse dreams#my brain is just OBSESSED with figuring out every way things could go wrong in an apocslypse setting#and subjecting me to them in what feels like my own personal hell#anyways the highlights of tonight’s dream:#mother left to get supplies for the first time since it all started. it was horrifying because I knew she probably wouldn’t come back!#i had to reckon with the idea that this would be the rest of my life. this was the world I lived in now.#doppelgänger zombie dog came into my house! I had to witness my father kill my dog knowing we would also have to kill the other.#impulsively took out my knife and slit my leg in reflex to seeing my dog get killed.#had a moment of ‘fuck does that count as relapse’ before realizing the undead would smell my blood and come for our asses#realizing that we were doomed#my mother left and was probably going to get killed#we were running out of supplies. what would I even do when my father grew old and died too.#a dog that might or might not be our dog ni sat in our living room. we would have to kill it.#another dog that might or might not be our dog laid in a pool of blood in our garage#i was bleeding profusely and there was a chance they would come for us#we were fucked#and then i woke up on the couch and tried not to freak out#claude’s meowing
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spaceyaceface · 10 months
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You Were The First
Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never known affection. He has never known how it felt to love---to be loved. She came and changed all of it.
Or, Ominis gets love because by god does he deserve it.
Warnings: Mentions/Implications of child abuse
God, I loved writing this. Thank you so much for the request, anon!
When Ominis Gaunt fell in love, he fell slowly. 
It was all the little things she did—the little things that made up who she was. Her kindness. Her patience. Her touch. 
Before meeting her, touch meant nothing but pain. It was kicking and screaming as his mother dragged him along by his arm, harsh shoves from uncaring hands toppling to the ground, a cruel hand curled over his own, taking any control he might have and forcing a curse out of him. 
He’d been avoiding it ever since. Even Sebastian and Anne knew his aversion, careful not to grab him or brush against him. 
But somehow, she made his walls come tumbling down. 
-
Perhaps he started to fall that first time she saved him a seat at breakfast. 
It was one of the first breakfasts of their sixth year—the Great Hall was bustling, students running back and forth to catch up with friends and share adventures from over the summer. That was exactly what Sebastian was doing; he could hear his friend’s loud laugh as he spoke to someone at the Hufflepuff table. He’d expected her to be doing the same, her popularity as the Hero of Hogwarts was unmatched. Surely everyone would want to know what she’d been up to. 
He’d just settled on the idea of grabbing an apple off the table and leaning against the wall well out of harm’s way when a voice called out to him. Her voice. 
“Ominis! Ominis, right here, I’ve saved a seat for you!” 
His mouth fell open—just slightly. “You… you saved a seat…?” 
“Yes, now get over here before Sebastian barrels past and steals it, I wouldn’t put it past him,” she said, smile obvious in her voice. 
And so he obliged. 
He settled down on the bench, all thoughts of retreating to some far corner vanishing as she began to rattle on about her summer. In turn, he answered all her questions about his own time, best he could with the way his head was spinning. Of everyone in the school, she had saved a spot for him. She allowed him to take all her time, steal away every morsel of her attention. There was a lightness that came with that thought. A warm feeling he couldn’t quite name—not yet. 
But now that he’d felt it, he knew he’d starve for it. 
-
The next step into his descent was the first time she placed her hand on his arm. 
Herbology was always a bit chaotic—not nearly as much as Potions, no thanks to a certain Gryffindor—but chaotic nonetheless. Professor Garlick had laid out all the necessary tools and supplies on each table, and after her brief explanation on how to prune and shape the plants in front of them, she set them loose. 
Sebastian stood to Ominis’s right, grabbing some small cutters and starting on his plant quickly. 
“Sebastian, you’re making a mess of it already. She said to start from the top and go down, didn’t you hear a word she just said?” a voice said from his left. 
Ominis chuckled. “Since when has Sebastian ever been one to listen to anything?” He reached forward, grabbing his own cutters. He heard his friend grumble under his breath. “Don’t pout, you know I’m right.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not offended by it,” Sebastian said. 
“You’re offended by everything, Seb,” she said. 
“What is this? Attack Sebastian Sallow Day?” 
“No, but I’d be an avid celebrator if there was such a thing.” 
As Sebastian continued mumbling complaints, he felt it—her hand, just barely resting on his arm. “Sorry,” she said softly, leaning forward and across the table. “I’m just grabbing the fertilizer.” And then her touch was gone. 
It was nothing. Just a simple indication that she was there, making sure a blind man didn’t accidentally stab her with a sharp object. And yet it felt… different, somehow. His skin was tingling as he tried to resume his work with the plant. It was only later he realized that, unlike so many times others had made a similar motion, he hadn’t flinched or pulled away. 
In spite of himself, he sort of wished she would do it again. 
-
He came to a realization the first time she explained a Quidditch match to him. 
The realization was thus—she was even more kind than anyone he’d ever met. It was her very first match, and she had been elated to attend after Professor Black had announced the continuation of the sport at the beginning of the year. Normally, Ominis wouldn’t care too much about it. He rarely went to matches in previous years, only being dragged along by Sebastian when Slytherin was up in the running to take the cup. Crowds weren’t his thing. And trying to understand anything that was going on based solely off the oohing and ahhing of a crowd gave him a headache. But this year, Sebastian was making his debut as Slytherin’s Keeper, and that paired with her excitement to see the match was enough to draw him out to the stands. 
They sat next to each other, nestled into the crowd of Slytherins eagerly anticipating the game. He could only imagine how high up they were—there had been plenty of stairs to indicate it was nothing insignificant. The breeze that high up was cooler, and Ominis was grateful for it, allowing himself to focus on it instead of the people pressing in all around him. 
But when the match started, his focus shifted entirely to the soft voice next to him. 
In the past, he had always found the commentary on the match entirely unhelpful, and even more uninteresting. He could never get a picture of what was going on—the announcer would always press opinions on players and use the names of the different plays, which was ridiculous because Ominis had no clue what any of the plays meant. 
She, on the other hand, explained it all wonderfully. 
She wasn’t perfect—not even close, stumbling over words and gasping at times when an action surprised her. But for the first time, Ominis could follow. He found himself cheering, breath catching as he heard the whoosh of a broom overhead. The tone and expression in her voice was so lively, so dedicated, he wanted to take part in it. 
“Weasley’s flying fast toward the goals,” she commented. “Blimey, he should be Seeker with that speed. Imelda’s flown into his path, he’s going to crash—No, he dodged her, straight over her head—he’s throwing the Quaffle, come on Seb—YES!” 
He let out a cry of celebration as his friend beside him whooped and hollered, cheering loudly for Sebastian. It wasn’t long until they won the match, and the crowd of Slytherins roared like a raging sea. He followed her out of the stands and into the common room, where a party was already commencing. Sebastian managed to break away from his adoring fans. The Hero of Hogwarts leapt up and nearly pushed him over in a wild embrace. Sebastian laughed. 
“You were wonderful out there!” she said, pulling away. 
Ominis could hear the grin in his friend’s voice. “I couldn’t let your first match be a disappointment, now could I?” His feet shifted, turning to Ominis. “And really, Ominis, thank you for coming. I know Quidditch isn’t your favorite.”
“If I’m honest, I rather enjoyed myself,” he said. He nodded his head toward her beside him. “This one has a knack for explaining the game. She told me enough that I can sincerely say, well played.” 
“Then seems like you’ll have to go to all of the matches together,” Sebastian said. 
Ominis frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t want to impose on—”
“No, I like that idea,” she said. His heart beat a bit faster. “I want you to be able to enjoy it just as much as the rest of us, Ominis.” 
He couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the night. When Sebastian asked about it, he blamed it on having too much Butterbeer.
-
When he let her lead him by his arm that very first time, he knew he trusted her. 
He’d known for a while—but now, through his actions, he had admitted it to her. To himself. 
Winter had set in. The two of them left the Three Broomsticks, bundled up and ready for the cold. He reached for his wand, pausing when he heard her speak up beside him. 
“Your hand is going to freeze holding it out like that all the way to the castle. I can lead you, if you’d like.” 
He pondered it for a moment—only a moment—and then he gave in. 
“If you think it’ll keep me from getting frostbite.” 
He sucked in a breath as her arm looped around his. How had she done it so gently? After a second, when he’d begun to breathe properly, he nodded. “Off we go, then.” 
It was strange, how he had surrendered so easily. When he had first gotten his wand, the world finally felt livable. He no longer had to shuffle around, arms outstretched, waiting for his brothers to jump out at him. He could fend for himself. Prove his independence. There was no longer a need to rely on anyone. 
Why did he rely so effortlessly on her? 
The truth came to him with a sudden thought as she took him through the streets, navigating expertly through the throng of students returning to the castle. He trusted her. She had always looked out for him. Cared when he felt no one else did. She made efforts to be around him, to involve him, even when he tried to push away. Ominis Gaunt did not trust easily. But she had proved herself worthy of that sentiment in every turn. 
The slight tug of her arm in his jolted him back to that moment. “We’re at the stairs,” she said quietly. “There’s six of them.” 
He’d trust her with his life. 
They seemed to walk closer and closer together as the castle drew nearer. It was the cold, he told himself. Just the instinctual craving for warmth drawing their sides together. Simple as that. 
But they still walked arm in arm through the halls of Hogwarts, leaving the excuse of the chill and snow far behind them. 
-
The first time she held his hand, he finally felt alive. 
Their sixth years had come to a close and the Hogwarts Express was waiting to take them home. They’d spend the last few months in what he considered bliss. They stopped looking for excuses to take each other's arms at some point—just letting it happen. Strolls on the castle ground. Between classes. Anywhere and everywhere they went together. Sebastian teased them a bit at the action, but Ominis claimed it was just easier than using his wand. He didn’t have to concentrate on a spell while walking about. It was true—but really, it hadn’t been inconvenient the five years before that, had it?
But now his dear friend gave a low sigh beside him. “This crowd is awful,” she said, glowering at the students around them. “I don’t know how we’re going to make it on the train in time.” 
“I’m sure we’ll be—” 
He stopped mid sentence, feeling her fingers interlock with his. 
“I think I see a path, come on now.” 
She nearly tipped him over as she pulled him along. He managed to remember how to walk just in time to catch himself, allowing her to lead him through the hustle and bustle around them. How did this feel so entirely different than being led by her arm? How could he only focus on how soft the skin of her knuckles felt under his thumb? How could he feel like he was dreaming, but never felt more aware in the same moment?
They stopped in front of the train, doors open before them. She didn’t let go. Neither did he. But the train let out a whistle, and the sound brought him back in an instant. Their hands dropped, and the loss of the intimate feeling of her fingers between his knocked the air out him like the perfect Depulso. 
“We made it,” she said softly. 
“Barely.” 
She laughed. He might as well have been a fish for how much he was struggling to breathe. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, voice softening. 
“I wish I could say the same,” he said, smirking. He felt her hit his arm, stifling a laugh.
“You’re awful.”
“You’re the one who laughed.” 
“Goodbye, Ominis,” she said, still chuckling. After a moment, she spoke again, a little quieter. “I’ll write you.”
His stomach flipped. “I’ll hold you to it.”
Then she was gone, taking part of him with her.
-
He knew he was in love the moment he got her first letter. 
What was it some fool had once said? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? What a load of dung. 
Absence made the heart ache so much it nearly killed him. And it had only been a day. 
He knew it was from her the moment the lingering scent of her perfume hit him. He smiled. She kept her word—he had never doubted she would. He was just relieved she had done so so soon. 
Quickly, he pulled out his wand and transfigured the words on the parchment, running his fingers over them. He paused where she had written his name. Every letter filled him with warmth as he poured over the short letter. 
Dear Ominis,
I realize we only saw each other yesterday, but I wanted to assure you it wasn’t an empty promise when I said I would write you. 
I really don’t have too much to share—my mother was more than pleased to see me, of course. Wailed when I came home as if I’d come back from the dead. She’s still not used to me being away for so long. I’ve just begun unpacking, and honestly, it just makes me wish I was back at Hogwarts with you and Sebastian. 
How are you? I do hope you’re alright. I worry about you going home, you know. I can’t help it. I’ll be inviting both you and Sebastian to my home as soon as I’m settled in—please do survive until then. 
Yours,
He closed his eyes as he felt her name beneath his fingertips. She was worried about him. She’d be inviting him. The warmth and elation he felt was so unlike the cold halls that surrounded him. He could survive—he’d do it for her. 
How she could make him feel happiness—hope—in a house so tainted with pain was beyond him. He never would he have thought he could have a moment of something good there, a memory worth keeping after he abandoned the place. 
Finally, he had a name for that warmth, the one that overtook him every time she crossed his thoughts. Love. Deep, profound, and lasting. It was more than he could have imagined, overwhelming and pure. How could he have lived to this point without it? 
He read the letter once more before pulling out his quill and beginning to write. 
-
The first time he thought she might feel the same coincided with the first time she laid her head on his shoulder. 
She had kept yet another of her promises. It was only a couple of weeks before he was off to her house, finally free from the suffocating marble halls of the manor. His escape lasted only for ten days, but it gave him what he needed to keep going. 
Though being with her was definitely what fueled him the most. 
Laughing with her and Sebastian made the stress of being around his parents melt off of him much faster than he would have imagined. Their ten days had been full of exploring the woods around her house, of playing Gobstones, of laying in fields and telling old stories. 
Ten days of her hand brushing his as they sat together. Ten days of catching his breath when she spoke. Ten days of falling harder than he ever thought possible.
Because now that he knew what it was he was feeling, it was there in everything she did. He was drowning in it, and he’d stay under with a smile on his face. 
Sebastian bid them farewell on that final evening. Ominis would be gone back home in the morning—he tried desperately to push that thought away, focusing instead on spending every moment with her he could. They’d wandered to the overgrown park not far from her home, coming to rest on a bench hidden away in the trees. Crickets sang around them, and Ominis basked in the cool summer night by her side. 
“Are you going to be ok when you go back?” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. 
He gave a small smile, one he hoped was reassuring. “I’ve lived this long. Two more months will be nothing.”
She sighed. “It won’t be a full two months. I’ll make sure of it. If you can’t come here again, we’ll go to Sebastian’s.”
“You worry about me too much.” 
“I think I worry just enough,” she stated simply. 
Her words made his chest time. How could he ever begin to explain what they meant to him? She cared for him. It was enough to shatter him if he let it. He couldn’t say what he wanted to—not yet. He’d find a way, someday. But he told her what he could by reaching for her hand, locking their fingers together. And when she leaned into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder, maybe, maybe, that was her way of saying she understood. 
His stiff body slowly relaxed against hers, and he thought about nothing but the slow draws of her breath, the way her hair tickled against his jaw, the love he felt for the angel of the girl sitting pressed against him. 
-
The first time she held him he fell apart. 
Their little trio had stayed up late in celebration of their last school year, playing Exploding Snap well into the night. The Undercroft echoed their joyous sounds as the hours passed by, until Sebastian pulled himself away, saying he wanted to pay a visit to the Restricted Section for old time’s sake. It wasn’t long until she and Ominis were saying their goodnights to each other. 
It had been a perfect last first day, exactly what he’d needed after spending so much time at the manor. He’d left for what he was determined to be the last time. There was no better way to celebrate. 
He could think of no better way of ending it than saying goodnight to the girl he loved. 
“Goodnight,” he said softly, a small smile on his lips. 
“God, I missed you,” she breathed. “Goodnight, Ominis.” 
But before he could open the door, her arms wrapped around his chest. 
The result was immediate. His heart raced, and his throat grew tight. He couldn’t breath—how could he, with her holding him so tightly? Her head was against his chest, and for a split second he was afraid she might pull away when she heard the pound of it. It was that moment of fear that brought his arms around her, holding her to him like he had nothing left. 
It felt like dying when she pulled away from him. She sucked in a breath. “Ominis, are you alright?”
“What… what do you—”
“You’re crying.”
She was right. He felt the tears, now, traitorously running down his face. He quickly brought up the sleeve of his robe to wipe them away. 
“Is it something I did? I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
“No,” he said quickly. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He took a shuddering breath. “I just… You’re the first person who’s ever…” 
Ever what? There were a million ways he could finish that sentence, and all would be true. The first who had ever held me. The first who has ever cared so deeply. The first to touch him with nothing but kindness. She was the first person to break down his walls, to give him life, to let him love and be loved. 
Somehow, she seemed to understand his silence. She took him into her arms once more, and he let himself come crashing down. Sobs worked their way through—both sadness and joy mingled together in an utter mess of emotion. How could he have gone his whole life without this? Without feeling safe, without outstretched arms to run to? But he had found it. A person he could call his home, who would hold him when he fell apart. He was grateful. So grateful. 
They never went back up to their dorms that night.
-
He was determined today would be the first time he kissed her. 
Since that night in the Undercroft, every touch between them felt natural. Part of their beings. He came to her effortlessly, letting his arms pull her to him. His hand felt foreign when it wasn’t in hers. But yet, he had yet to confess the depths of his feelings for her. 
He knew exactly why—she was patient. They’d started this whole thing nearly two years ago now. She’d always gone at his pace, waiting for him to be ready for each new step. They didn’t need to say the words. It was obvious to both of them. But Merlin, he wanted to. 
She needed to know just how much she meant to him. The joy she brought into his life without even trying. It had been a long time coming, but now, he was ready.
He’d taken her out to Hogsmeade. It was the perfect spring day—cool breeze carrying the scent of Butterbeer clear out of the Three Broomsticks. The sun was just beginning to set, and they were on course to return to the castle when he stopped her. 
“Could I take you somewhere?” he said softly. 
“Of course,” she said, a little perplexed. He smiled, taking out his wand to guide the both of them, other hand still in hers. He led them down a path, then turned sharply into the woods. The trail he followed was light barely there, mostly grown over by foliage. But he heard the sound of the creek and knew he was close. 
The trees gave way into a small opening, the melody of water trickling just beyond it. He smiled. 
“It’s lovely,” she said. 
“Good. I hoped it would be.” His wand returned to his pocket, and he took both her hands, facing her. 
It was her turn for her breath to catch. It was only fair after all the times he’d done so because of her. Did he look as lovesick as he felt? 
“You are everything to me, do you know that?” he said softly. His hand reached up, following the curve of her neck up to her jaw, where it came to rest. “Everything.”
“Ominis…” 
The way she breathed his name sent shivers through him. And her breath on his lips—Merlin, how had he waited so long?
“I love you.” 
He didn’t give her a chance to respond—he’d let her say it soon enough. But he needed to prove himself to her, show her just what he meant when he said everything. His lips came crashing down against hers, and at that moment he decided every second not spent kissing her was a second wasted. Like everything about her, she was gentle. She was warm. She was soft. Like everything about her, he couldn’t get enough. He thought he’d give her a chaste kiss, but he was only a man, and a starving one at that. 
He only pulled away when his lungs felt like they would burst, and his chest heaved under her resting hand. 
“I love you,” she said, voice hoarse. “God, I love you.” 
He decided that night would be the second time he kissed her, too. 
After that he lost count.
3K notes · View notes
nerdpoe · 2 months
Note
3 Fanon ideas to make a prompt from :)
1). Ectoplasm is Lazarus Water but purified
2). Ghosts can retreat to their cores
3). Protocore Jason AU
Danny has to retreat into his core, Jason somehow finds him and absorbs it. It looks like Jason is pregnant as his own ecto is being purified and then given to Danny's Core.
Enjoy:)
This is a full prompt, though? Okay I'll write mpreg. Gonna bypass that "looks" and make it an "is" though, throwin in some reincarnation and trans Jay.
~~~~~~
Jason was doing one last round before he left for Gotham. Before he left to prove a point. To teach Bruce a lesson he'd never forget.
He wasn't sentimental, no, he was just checking to make sure he wasn't forgetting any sickass weapons that may have fallen behind a dresser or something.
"Todd," a small, imperious voice demanded from behind him. "Observe my new pet rock."
Jason sighed and stood up to humor the little demon.
The kid was holding a weird glowing, cracked orb. It was radiating frost, and Damian had to use cloth between his hands and the magic stone.
"Damian," Jason started, keeping his voice level. "Where did you get that?"
The kid sniffed with all the superiority of a spoiled brat, looking proud and holding the obviously enchanted stone higher.
"Since Grandfather and Mother say that animals as pets would be a weakness, I decided to search the lesser treasure room for a suitable inanimate pet."
Jason sucked in air through his teeth in a soft hiss. There was no "lesser" treasure room; there was the "safe" treasure and the "unknown" treasure. Where was Talia when he needed her?
"Look, kid, I don't think-" Jason started, reaching for the weird rock, just as Damian started pulling away.
"-You are jealous that I have this rock and you do not-"
"-Damian, please, just hand over the fucking-"
"-Cease your attempted theft this instant-"
"-Damian come here you little shit-"
Jason tripped. Damian tripped. The weird rock went into the air...and landed on Jason's chest. It melted into him with a sharp flash of pain.
And that was that.
Damian stared at Jason's stomach, aghast.
"You stole my rock!"
By the time Talia arrived to see what was keeping Jason so long, he and Damian were rolling on the ground biting each other.
~~~~~~
Months later, Jason was beyond ready to murder the newest Robin. He'd originally planned to just beat the shit out of the kid, but he'd been having a rough time.
He was losing his carefully crafted abs.
He was getting soft.
Normally that was whatever, but he was trying to be intimidating, and being soft in any way was definitely going to trigger the dysphoria he thought he'd outrun.
It made no sense; he worked out daily, had started eating on a caloric deficit, drank nothing but water, and made sure what he ate was home-cooked.
Then, one month before go-time with Timmy, he'd started getting nauseous.
He felt bloated, tired, hungry, and most of all; pissed.
As he stalked through the Tower that the newest Robin was hiding in, he may have, perhaps, let the millions of small annoyances pile into one big rage filled pity party with a kid as the target.
It really didn't help that he hadn't been able to don his replica of his own Robin costume, because he...he had pudge. He didn't fit in it.
It was infuriating.
He knew it wasn't little TimTams fault, but he was gonna take his rage out on someone, and the kid was the unfortunate closest person he had beef with.
Was he overreacting? Probably.
But it was lash out or cry, and he refused to cry.
On top of everything, the one thing that had helped with any of the symptoms, the extra purified Lazarus Water that Talia had given him to 'act as an emergency first aide', was gone. He'd drank it all.
With that supply out, he was.
Well.
He was going to kill little Timmy, fuck the consequences.
But little Timmy was...doing a very good job of staying completely out of sight. The kid had been acting far more neurotic than he normally did, only letting out a small gasp when he'd seen Red Hood and immediately darted into some sort of weird hidey hole.
Jason hadn't been able to find him since.
The kid had added his own gopher network to the Tower, fuck.
The speaker system crackled on, just as Jason was about to start laying down bombs.
"Red Hood, please consider your condition. Do not do anything that would raise your blood pressure, or uh..." the newest Robin's voice trailed off, keyboard audibly clacking as he looked something up. "...Or eat peas? No, that can't be right. Whatever, look, just stay calm, take a breather, and don't overstress yourself. It's not good for the uh. The second...yeah. Not good. Do not do. Why am I so dumb sounding when it comes to things like this? Shoulda gotten Steph..."
The kids voice trailed off as he berated himself, but Jason was too busy fighting off the horribly dawning realization of what the kid was saying.
Which couldn't be true, because there was no way for the kid to know, and Jason hadn't had sex in...well. Years.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jason gasped, thanking his past self for putting the vocoder in his helmet. It sounded far more threatening.
"Oh. Uh. During one of your fights with Batman, you got glanced by something sharp, and there was a little blood. Don't worry though! I didn't tell Batman! I just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own! So I ran your blood and now I...know. That was actually probably like, really invasive. Sorry Jason."
Jason knew the fight the little Bird was talking about. He'd had a random wave of vertigo, barely dodged a batarang. He'd had to do his own stitches afterwards.
"...You know? Know what?"
"Okay, I should clarify. I didn't tell Batman, but I kinda needed help scrubbing everything, so I had to ask Oracle to help, so she knows, and she couldn't keep it from Nightwing, because he's felt super guilty about how he treated you, but Batman definitely does not know."
Jason sat down on the nearest chair, feeling like the wind had been ripped from his sails. He took the helmet off and dropped in on the ground in favor of running a hand through his hair.
"How can you be sure B doesn't know it's me?" He rasped, staring at nothing.
"Because can you imagine he'd leave you alone for a second if he knew you were alive, much less up the duff?"
Jason had nothing to say to that. Either Ra's had been up to some fucked up experiments while he'd been asleep, or he was the victim of miraculous conception.
The newest Robin was rambling over the speakers, but Jason ignored him and held his head in his hands. The glowing orb flashed through his mind, and Jason didn't even have the energy to curse Damian for doing stupid kid shit.
He was just thankful that the kid hadn't been a viable host.
"Tim, shut up. Do you have an ultrasound machine here?" Jason interrupted, steeling himself. He was an adult sort of, one year before it was technically true, and he could freak out later.
It was time to do adult things.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Has your gyno not done one yet?"
"Don't have one, didn't know. Where is it?"
"...I probably should have broken that news to you like, way softer."
~~~~~~
Jason was...pulling back. His criminal empire was still growing strong, and he was making a shit ton of money from it, but he was pulling back from actively provoking Batman.
As much as he wanted B to be the one to kill the Joker, he knew that the older man probably wouldn't do that, and Jason wasn't going to risk getting anywhere near that maniac while he was pregnant.
Batman had certainly noticed the change in behavior, but whenever he tried to intrude into Crime Alley, Nightwing or Robin would intercept him.
Jason.
Jason wasn't sure what he wanted to do about Bruce.
Dick was slowly earning forgiveness for his pas actions, piece by piece. Tim was surprisingly good at being supportive, and Jason's hatred for him was starting to wear away to the realization that this was just a kid.
Oracle, whoever she was, had apparently designed the best security system in the world and quietly renovated an apartment into a safehouse, just for him.
He hated the charity, but it was better than what he could make at the moment with how many enemies he'd gained.
As the months passed by, he found himself hiding away in the gifted apartment more and more.
The dysphoria was...bad.
There were no more mirrors in the apartment.
The kid, which the ultrasound confirmed they were, was a small one, thank fuck. His belly had popped out, true to most pregnancies, but it was relatively contained.
It was still enough to make a horrible sense of wrongness almost knock him off his feet every time he looked down.
He was, essentially, useless.
If it wasn't for the trio of well-meaning extended family (maybe? he had his suspicions about Oracle), he probably would have just laid down on the floor of his apartment and not gotten up.
Tim, surprisingly, had adopted some stupid Alvin Draper alias and was running his crime network in his stead. He was doing a concerningly good job, actually, and Jason and Dick had exchanged more than one worried glance over the kid's head.
Dick had moved in, citing that Bruce was getting suspicious and it was easier to pretend that he'd moved back to Gotham than it was to continually make up excuses. In reality, he was making sure Jason didn't lay down and rot, keeping him active and healthy.
Jason was...trying. He was trying. But between needing to stop HRT and the changes and his fucking voice and just. Everything. All of it.
He hated it.
But he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the kid.
Dick and Tim had set up a nursery, just in case. Dick had also surreptitiously reached out to the Kents, also just in case. There was no judgement. If he decided to keep the kid or give it away, it would be well taken care of.
That should have been a weight off his shoulders.
But instead, he felt like he was getting worse.
He was so, so fucking tired. He was starving but he couldn't stomach the food Dickwing put in front of him. He had worked so hard to build his criminal empire, but when Tim tried to tell him about it he couldn't focus long enough understand what was being said. He knew that they were getting more and more concerned, and when he woke up one morning and vomited straight Lazarus Water, Tim snapped.
"I'm calling B."
"Tim, no, we can-"
"-No, Dick, we need to figure out what's going on! This isn't something Leslie can handle, we need Bruce!"
Maybe it was just something buried deep inside Jason, but he agreed. He wanted his dad, not a doctor. He didn't care about Tim's reasoning, he just. He agreed. He wanted Bruce.
"Do it," Jason rasped from the floor, leaning into the cold tile. "Get B."
~~~~~~
Jason was still on the bathroom floor when a set of far, far heavier footsteps paused at the doorway.
The wood from the doorframe creaked as whoever it was tightened their grip on it.
Their breathing stuttered. They swallowed.
The footsteps continued, and they knelt next to Jason, wordlessly running their fingers through his hair.
"Hey Jaylad," Bruce whispered, voice tight and controlled even as his hand shook. "Looks like you've got a bit of a situation. Wanna tell me what happened?"
"Got knocked up by a magic rock," Jason muttered, thoroughly enjoying the hand in his hair. "But it ain't going right, and I'm tired and hungry all the time, and I'm throwing up the Lazarus Pits."
"The magic rock info is new," he heard Tim mutter from the hall, right before he was forcibly shushed by Dick.
"Did you have any weird cravings? Any symptoms that don't normally match a pregnancy?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice calm and controlled even as he lifted Jason from the floor and into his lap. "Should I get Constantine on the phone?"
Jason let it happen, turning to hide his face from the shitshow that had been his life for the past six months and shoving it into Bruce's stupid fancy shirt.
"Had Lazarus water. Drank it. I'm hungry but I can't eat anything. I can hear the kid chirp sometimes."
"Like a bird? That's adora-"
"-Shut up Dick not now!"
"You shut up!"
"You...drank. Lazarus Water." Bruce repeated, voice stilted as he clearly started working through something in his head. "I....hm. Okay. I'm...I'm going to call Constantine." Jason couldn't help the snort at the clear distaste in Bruce's voice as he said that.
He expected Bruce to put him down and go get changed into his Batman kit.
He did not expect Bruce to adjust his hold, lean back onto the cabinets, and make the call then and there.
~~~~~~
Constantine was officially unofficially his doctor for the duration of his pregnancy.
That was not something that anyone wanted, Bruce especially.
Jason wanted to throw up and aim it at the Hellblazer, but he had a feeling the man had been covered in worse and would, at best, be unfazed.
At worst, tempted to just smear it on Jason to prove a point.
The Mage of the hour himself was hovering over Jason, eyes unfocused as his glowing hands rested on the despised baby bump.
Jason was laying on the couch, trying not to let the sound of Bruce's pacing drive him up a wall.
"That," Constantine started, head tilting as if he was listening to something. "That is a core. And a baby. And another core. Two Ghost Cores, two bodies. If you're meetin' the needs of the physical, and you're still havin' issues, prolly need to see to the spritual, love."
"Don't call him love," Bruce warned, pausing his pacing long enough to glare at the Mage.
Constantine didn't bother to acknowledge him.
"Don't suppose you've got any spare Lazarus Water lying around, eh?" The man asked instead, eyes refocusing as he removed his hands from Jason's person.
Jason shook his head, but Tim nodded his.
Everyone stared at Tim.
Tim shrugged.
"What? It's under the city. Not like anyone will miss it if we take some."
"How. Tim, how do you know that?" Dick asked, sounding a little scared.
"Because I found it? I tried throwing dead rats in it but it doesn't work on rats, so I tried larger dead animals that had gotten down there-"
"-B you've raised Dr. Frankenstein," Jason groaned, covering his eyes from the realities of a mad scientist little brother.
"But I'm not an undead being stitched together?" Tim asked.
"You uncultured swine," Jason snarled, practically throwing himself into a sitting position and was quickly met with Constantine trying to wrangle him back down. "It's common fucking knowledge that Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, and if you paid any attention in English class-"
"-I'm gonna go get Lazarus Water okay bye!" Tim shouted, bolting for the door.
~~~~~~
Jason drank his fifth juice pack of Lazarus Water, finally starting to feel like himself again, and stared at Bruce.
Bruce, to his credit, was clearly trying very hard not to stare back.
Jason imagined this was rather hard, given that he couldn't stop fucking purring. Apparently, that was a Thing that his body could and would do, according to his unofficial doctor.
Dick and Tim were helping Constantine put the Lazarus Water into the juice packets, all of them desperately pretending that they weren't there at all and trying to be as quiet as possible.
"So, Hellblazer. Nothing to say about the Big Bad Batman?" Jason asked, eyes never leaving said man.
"Not particularly any of my business, mate. I don't really care one way or another."
Bruce actually looked a little put out at that, much to Jason's satisfaction.
"I imagine you have questions," Jason sighed, finishing off his juice pack.
Bruce finally turned to look at him head on, gaze steady.
"They can wait. Do you have any plans for...this?" Bruce didn't motion towards Jason's stomach, but he didn't have to.
"...Maybe. I don't even really know what this is." Jason muttered, sinking further into his chair.
"I told you, love, it's a baby. With a ghost core. It was probably an adult ghost, at one point, but if it was cracked near as bad as you say, it was either reincarnate or disappear." Constantine shrugged, taping another stupid tiny straw to another juice box and moving to repeat the action. "Either way, since it's reincarnation, the baby ain't gonna know tit from tat. 'S just a baby."
That. Damn. If he'd been faced with the same choice, he probably would have done the same thing.
"You keep saying that. What does a ghost core do when it's in a human?" Bruce asked, knuckles white on the couch's armrest.
"Dunno, haven't seen it before. Heard of it, though. Just makes the person powerful, but now sure how much. Flight is definitely gonna be there, though, so I'd ask supes for some pointers." Constantine answered without really answering, true to form for him.
Jason heaved himself up and waved everyone off as they started to get to their own feet to help him. "I'm gonna take a nap. Snipe at each other in here and don't fucking bother me."
~~~~~~
Jason was disgusting.
Alfred and Bruce and everyone else assured him he wasn't, but he absolutely was.
It was so bad he'd gone ahead and, without informing anybody, arranged for an induced labor at Gotham General as soon as he could.
He didn't want to deal with Dick getting scared and frantic, or Tim overplanning and having a mental breakdown, or Bruce's rigid shoulders as he both tried to apologize and do something stupid like take over from the actual doctor.
Alfred would probably be composed, but if Alfred acted a little off then they'd know.
Hell, Jason had started getting some Braxdon hicks contractions and he swore he watched Bruce's hair grey in real time.
So at the eight and a half month mark, Jason lied to everyone and told them he was going to another safehouse to get away from their coddling.
He ignored their objections and reached for the keys to his car-
-and pissed himself.
Or, it felt like he did.
The apartment went dead silent as everyone looked down.
Then the contractions really hit.
~~~~~~
Bruce actually did try to take over the maternity ward and do the doctors jobs.
Jason was delighted to have an excuse to kick him out.
He couldn't force the man to avenge his murder, but he could make him wait in the waiting room like the rest of the peasants.
Alfred he allowed to stay, though.
~~~~~~
Jason still hadn't decided what to do with the kid.
He didn't know if he was gonna send them off to a farm or if he was gonna keep them.
So he let himself hold them, to see if any of the disgust he'd felt during the pregnancy had been directed at the kid or if it was all just him hating how he looked.
The little bean of a child, eyes bluer than his own, proceeded to free one arm to pull on Jason's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
Ah.
Nah, the hatred had been towards how he looked.
This one was his, the Kents could get visitation rights.
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Pumpkin Carving (A Halloween One Shot)
Pumpkin carving and a sleepover. An excuse for everyone to gather together on Halloween now that the Party has decided they're too old to trick-or-treat.
A pumpkin carving station has been set up in the Harrington's giant three car garage. Steve did debate setting it all up in the yard, less cleanup of the pumpkin insides that way, but it was pretty chilly, and Steve wasn't sure how long they'd all take to do the actual carving.
Does pumpkin carving take long?
Steve's never carved a pumpkin so he wouldn't know. There is no universe in which his mother would have allowed a pumpkin in her house, much less under the circumstance of then cutting it open and freeing it of its insides. While Steve has never participated in the act of carving a pumpkin, he knows how it goes. Hypothetically.
He'd needed to know enough to gather all the supplies after all, so a quick call to Robin (along with some gentle teasing and mocking) and he was set.
Eddie arrives first, having been volunteered to go get the pumpkins from the patch. It's not that Steve is scared of the pumpkin patch, or anything, it's just that Eddie's van would be better for transporting them.
Steve tried to offer to unload them, insisting it was only fair since Eddie had to load them, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and gets to work. It's not that pumpkins are extra heavy, but they aren't exactly light. And Steve knows that Eddie thinks Steve doesn't want his help because of how long it took Eddie to heal, but that's not the reason. Steve just...
Steve's just drawn to watching instead of helping when Eddie grabs a pumpkin under each arm, muscles flexing as he tightens his hold enough to keep them trapped between his arms and his sides and now Steve's left wishing, wistfully and not for the first time, that it was his thighs Eddie was wrapping those arms around. That it was him Eddie was hoisting up, perhaps holding against a wall and-
"Am I going to do all the loading and unloading?" Eddie bursts his thoughts by knocking their shoulders together as he passes by, already on his second round of pumpkin unloading.
"What, no, sorry," Steve turns to grab two pumpkins of his own. It's quick work with the two of them, then, to unload, and a short wait for everyone to start showing up.
Some biked, others dropped off by parents. Steve walks out to each car to chat and confirm that yes, of course they can stay the night; they won't be a bother and I'll keep them out of trouble.
Soon enough the garage is full of people, pumpkins, and noise. Lucas and Max have migrated to the corner of the garage closest to the door leading inside to whisper together as Lucas guts two pumpkins while Max describes what she wants on hers. Will and Mike have also set themselves apart to work out whatever it is they plan to carve on their own pumpkins. Dustin, El, Erica, and Eddie have plopped down in the center and just got to work. They aren't coordinating their pumpkins like the couples seem to be doing. They do seem to be taking it the most serious, though, with the absolute silence from all of them, concentration faces fully on.
Steve is off on his own, too. He's taken a seat about five feet from Eddie but he's the furthest from the door. He frowns down at his pumpkin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He's not sure how to start. What to do.
He looks up from his pumpkin and over to Eddie. He's using a knife to saw around the stem of the pumpkin. Which, duh. Steve should have put that together. There has to be some way to remove the insides easily, so removing the top made sense.
Without trying to overthink it all, Steve stabs into the top of his pumpkin and starts sawing his own circle around the top. It's. Well, it's something. He wouldn't say sawing a circle is fun but it's not tedious and soon enough his knife returns to the starting point and... Hmm. He watches as the bit he just cut around sags into his pumpkin. Eddie's didn't do that.
Steve frowns down at it for a moment before grabbing the stem and pulling the top off. His face wrinkles in disgust at the stringy clump of pumpkin insides that hang from the top and he sets that down to the side quickly. He's realizing now why everyone else chose to wear short sleeves even though it's cold outside as he looks around the garage and sees everyone shoving their hands into the pumpkin, pulling stringy, seedy, strands of pumpkin out.
With a sigh, Steve rolls a sleeve up and plunges his own hand into the holes he's made and almost instantly rips his hand back out. Ew. No. Gross! Wrong! The feeling of the strands breaking under the pressure of his hand, the slightly moist feeling of the inside, the unexpected slipperiness of the seeds, all of it sends a shiver of revulsion up Steve's spine. He makes a soft gagging noise against his own will.
"You gonna be sick?" Eddie asks almost immediately.
"Uh. Oh, yeah," Steve says as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed blush. He can see that all eyes are on him now, which adds to his embarrassment on top of realizing the question he was asked and what he answered. "Wait, I mean no. I'm not going to be sick."
Eddie looks from Steve to his pumpkin, and back up. "Don't like the feeling of pumpkin guts?"
"It was just unexpected is all," Steve defends, even as the thought of sticking his hands back into the pumpkin sends another shiver through him.
"Unexpected," Dustin repeats back. Steve tenses but nothing else follows that. He looks over and Dustin seems to be having a silent conversation with Eddie judging by the stare down.
"Maybe I am gonna be sick," Steve lies, standing quickly and fleeing the garage.
God fucking dammit. Why is he so embarrassed about this? Why is he... he's hiding the fact he's never done this before, and he doesn't know why. They aren't going to mock him for it. Well. Maybe a little, but in the same way Robin did. Tease him because they love him. They wouldn't really be making fun of him. Except maybe Mike but Steve doesn't really care about his opinion anyway. Gave up on that a while ago.
He goes to the kitchen sink on autopilot, scrubbing the gross, now dried and tacky feeling from his hand. He's in the process of drying his hands when a voice startles him.
"Hey man. You okay?"
It's Eddie. Of course, it's Eddie they would send after him.
"Yeah," he turns so his back is to the sink, leaning back against it to look at Eddie.
"You never have to scoop out a pumpkin before? Did someone else do it for you?"
If anyone else had asked, Steve would think it was condescending. Someone mockingly asking after nannies or servants who would do the gross part of pumpkin carving for the little rich kid. But it's Eddie, and he's just curious and sincere. So, Steve says, "nah, man. Just never done this before."
Eddie's browse crinkle in confusion and Steve thinks he's so fucking cute. He wants to kiss the confusion from his brow. "You've never carved a pumpkin before?"
Steve just gives a shake of his head before shrugging. He wants to cross his arms, close in on himself, but it's Eddie. He's trying to not shy away from the people he cares about. He's trying to let them take care of him, too.
(It's been a process, since the defeat of Vecna. Learning to let people care about him. He's better at it these days. Robin said so and if anyone is an expert on him, it's her. He can't always trust his own opinion to be unbiased.)
"I'll scoop out your pumpkin if you still want to give pumpkin carving a try," Eddie offers, a soft, lopsided smile on his face that Steve adores. The bats took a good chunk of his left cheek, and the scarring is heavy, the muscles non-responsive, so every smile is lopsided, but Steve loves them all.
"Okay," Steve says, offering a soft smile in return but doesn't push off the sink. Not until Eddie approaches, taking Steve's wrist and tugging him along.
No one says anything when they return to the garage, nor when Eddie blows past his own pumpkin to sit next to Steve and grab up his pumpkin. Eddie looks down at the hole Steve's carved, a calculated look on his face. It's cleared away soon enough when he smiles as wide as his scarred cheek allows before he gets to work on the pumpkin. He cleans it out thoroughly before handing it back to Steve, then crawls across the floor to retrieve his own abandoned pumpkin, rolling it across the floor as he crawls back.
"Oh, wait. Can you go get me a marker?" Eddie asks, as Steve is examining his pumpkin, trying to imagine a face to go on it.
"Yeah," Steve says, glad to have a moment more to think about the face as he fetches a marker from his father's office.
He returns to most of the kids having already finished their own pumpkins. Unsurprising, considering how much time Steve spent just thinking about carving before he even started.
"Marker," Steve offers it out after he's sat down again, close enough that his knee is touching Eddie's this time.
"Thanks," Eddie takes the marker and adjusts so more of his leg is pressing against Steve's. "So, you can freehand the face if you want, or I could draw you a face to cut out? If you want."
"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure," Steve says, shoving his pumpkin towards Eddie who looks delighted by Steve's answer. It doesn't take him long to draw on a face. Triangle eyes, a little rectangle nose, and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth.
Steve and Eddie carve in quiet, while Steve basks in the warmth of Eddie's leg next to his, touching his. He's never been sure if Eddie likes him back, not enough to announce his own crush, but sometimes... There are times like this that fill him with hope.
Steve doesn't even realize they've been abandoned to the garage until Eddie finishes his pumpkin, which is three bats carved artistically into the side. Steve is impressed, and when he turns to ask if anyone else is, there isn't anyone there.
"Oh. I didn't even hear them leave."
Eddie plops the top of his pumpkin back on, which reminds Steve he needs to do the same. He reaches for his top but Eddie beats him to it, craving the gross mass of sides that was stuck to it off before handing it over it.
Steve sets the top back on the pumpkin, and it immediately drops into the pumpkin. "What. Why did it-?"
"You gotta cut the top into an odd shape or at an angle. Otherwise, that happens. But it's okay. You didn't know, and I know how to fix it. You got some toothpicks in your house?" Eddie says, assuring Steve before he even has time to overthink it.
Can Steve be any more in love with him at this point?
"What?" Eddie whispers, eyes wide and face slowly turning red.
"What?"
"You just... you, uhh. Did you not mean to say that out loud?"
"Say wha- oh God," Steve registers what he'd thought, or apparently, what he said and now he and Eddie are just staring at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving.
"I'm not going to question if you meant it," Eddie starts slowly, clearly the more brave one of the two, "just. I need to know if you mean it, like, romantically."
"I did. Do. I-" Steve can be brave, too. He can. "I do love you. Romantically."
"Holy shit. I want to pull you in and kiss you so bad but my hands are covered in pumpkin guts and-"
Steve does it for him, both hands grabbing at his face and pulling him in.
His first time carving a pumpkin ends up being fantastic, even counting the kids flooding back into the garage to scream 'finally' at them.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems
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SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - P4L
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[3k] Two weeks since John B and Sarah have been gone and the pogues decide it's time for a proper memorial to say goodbye, but an impulsive gesture leaves two of the four remaining pogues heads spinning.
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, unestablished relationship/unrequited love (Pope x Kiara), mentions of child abuse/neglect, general angst
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ This is where things get a little tricky. Also, tumblr decided to kick me out of my mf account so thats why this is like 2 days late instead of one, I DID NOT LIE TO YALL😭 and sorry if this chapter moves a little fast
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
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“RISE AND SHINE, BLONDIE.” You whispered in the sleeping boy’s ear. JJ immediately slapped a harsh palm over his ear, effectively slapping himself and waking himself up, groaning in pain as you stood by giggling. 
“Fuck you.” He mumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he sat up, Marley emerging next to him from under the covers. You tilted your head at the dog, scoffing.
“You do know that is my dog, right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at a sleepy-eyed JJ who simply looked at the animal over his shoulder before turning back to you and shrugging with a sly smile on his face.
“Not anymore. Her real owner gives her bacon and she loves it.” He retorted, throwing an arm over Marley and pulling her into his side as he rubbed the top of her head. “Ain’t that right, girl?”
You rolled your eyes, your bare feet patting against the hardwood floors of The Chateau as you left the room, calling over your shoulder. “Then her real owner can clean up the aftermath when she vomits it out because she refuses to chew.” You reprimanded playfully, sliding your slippers onto your feet that were sat by the front door. “I’m gonna clean up a bit. Pope and Kie should be here soon. And I bought more cereal, it’s above the fridge.” You called out before going out onto the porch, letting the door shut behind you, the screen rattling. 
Today marked two weeks since John B and Sarah disappeared.
Pope and Kiara had finally made time in their schedules to do a proper send off. Not that you blamed them — Kiara’s parents wanted her as far away from the pogues as possible, with you being a semi-exception. They’d swamped her with work after school at The Wreck, working from the time school ended until the street lights came on. The weekends were no different, with the addition of taking the car away, only allowing her to drive it on the weekdays to and from school.
Heyward had Pope doing grocery run after grocery run, as well catching some of the seafood supply himself. Pope didn’t mind though, he was working on repairing his relationship with his parents after everything that happened. Things seemed to be looking up, Heyward didn’t scowl when you all came around anymore and his mother started to greet you all again. They were easing up on the restrictions, too — allowing Pope to drive the car again and be out past ten.
You and JJ had been managing — he was taking small, odd jobs here and there. Mowing lawns, fixing cars just to keep the lights on and the water running. You did what you could — sneaking into your house, only once or twice, to take some necessities and things to sell. You’d managed to pawn off a good chunk of your mother’s jewelry and some things you didn’t need anymore. It was enough to keep you both fed and clean.
Life was starting to seem okay again. It didn’t seem like there was such a large storm cloud over you and your friends anymore. Now, you just all felt an emptiness when you were together, which was probably why you weren’t together as much anymore.
School was…well, school. You and JJ hadn’t been since it happened. No adults to force you to go, right? Pope and Kie had been a few times, but their parents allowed them some time to themselves occasionally. 
Despite everything, today was the first day you all would be hanging out as a full group again. The Chateau always looked a mess but admittedly, you and JJ hadn’t been helping the place to look any better. The porch was littered with beer bottles, soda cans, snack wrappers. Things that had been piling up from your late night talks. 
Grabbing a plastic bag, you started gathering all of the trash and throwing it inside, the space already looking better.
“SO, HOW ARE WE DOING THIS EXACTLY?” Kiara asked, hands in her pockets as she stood in front of the big tree, next to Pope. The sun was starting to set, casting a low, orange hue over the backyard.
She and Pope had arrived not too long ago, the gathering not being as lively as it used to be. Less smiles, less laughs. There was small talk and a few jokes here and there but it just seemed so forced, as if no one wanted to say “let’s just get this over with”.
The group had been divided, although none of you would admit it aloud. It seemed as if Pope and Kiara did their thing, while you and JJ did yours. 
“We could just carve it. Might take a while, though…” Pope pitched, rubbing his hands over the top of his head and shifting his weight. 
“I mean, we got all day.” JJ shrugged simply, adjusting the baseball cap on his head. “I say we carve this baby up.” He shrugged, hiking up the toolbox in his hand, the metal objects inside rattling, and walking to the forefront of the group. You walked up beside him, looking up with your hands in your back pockets. “Care to do the honors?” He smiled down at you, flicking out a pocket knife in your direction.
Taking the object from his hand, you faced the large, loud live oak tree and began carving the initials of your fallen friend into the wood.
THREE HOURS AND TWO BEERS LATER AND THE TREE WAS CARVED AND BRANDED. A tan-colored, heart-shaped splotch in the center.
2003   2020
JOHN B ROUTLEDGE
P4L
After you’d finished carving, JJ had done the honors of engraving the words with a heated piece of metal, burning the words forever into the oak. The four of you raised a beer to John B, hoping that he could feel you wherever he was.
You’d branched off afterwards, something that never happened before but you’d grown accustomed to the odd dynamic between the group now. You all tried your hardest to ignore it or remedy it but it was useless. 
Pope was sitting on a log, staring at the fire JJ had started. JJ was swinging in the hammock as you made your way over to Kiara, who was sitting on the steps of The Chateau.
“Hey. You alright?” You asked, sitting down next to the girl as she took a sip of her beer, humming in response.
“As alright as I can be, I guess.” She replied almost despondently. You were all grieving in your own ways but something about Kiara’s grief didn’t seem like grief. It was like she was dealing with some other conflicting emotions on top of it all. “You and JJ have been keeping this place up, huh? I can actually see wood on the floor.” She joked lightly.
You chuckled in response. “Yeah... yeah, we’re trying. The place is one kick away from collapsing but it’s a home, nonetheless.”
“Have you been home? Since…” You nodded your head at the girl’s question, staring down at your sneakers.
“...Once or twice just to steal some shit to pawn off. I don’t really care for anything in that house anymore. Or anyone…” Kiara simply drew her lips into a thin line, nodding silently with no clue as to how to continue the conversation. So, you took the initiative for her. “How’ve you been? With your parents? Pope?”
She just grimaced and shrugged, playing with the rim of the open beer bottle. “They’re... going, I suppose. My parents don’t even know I’m here right now. If they did…” She trailed off, scoffing. “And Pope, I don’t know. He’s sweet, he’s just not…” She trailed off once again, but this time it was like she knew what she wanted to say but it was almost as if she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She seemed weary, hesitant — eyes fleeting between your own and the blades of grass beneath her feet. “Whatever. Forget it. Me and Pope are figuring it out, I guess. I’m trying to give it a chance.”
“That’s good.” You smiled smally, nodding absentmindedly. “If it helps, he really does like you. So, even if you two don’t work out, just let him down easy. He’s our friend and a really good guy.” She simply nodded, taking another swig of her beverage and looking out into the distance. Suddenly, she was standing from the steps, hands on her knees.
“I’m gonna go get another beer...” She sighed before walking back inside.
Maybe you were reading too much into it but Kiara’s grief was seeming more like a cold shoulder...
“YOU WARM ENOUGH, POPE?” You inquired, sitting next to the boy on the log, him shooting you a small smile before returning his gaze to the flames in front of him. The fire casting an amber glow over his skin, making his eyes seem browner, almost softer. 
“Yeah, a little too hot.” He chuckled lightly, leaning back further onto the wooden seat, placing his hands behind him for support. “...I meant to ask, is JJ okay? Like, actually?” He asked with a bit of hesitance, eyeing the blonde swaying calmly on the hammock. You followed his sights, spotting JJ swaying lowly before turning back to Pope.
“He’s…doing better than I expected. But that goes for all of us, I suppose.” You offered honestly. “Why’d you ask?” You questioned, to which Pope shrugged one shoulder before replying.
“I know John B was a really big part of his life. If I was as close as those two, I don’t know how I’d feel. I know we haven’t been around much, Kie and I, but he just seems…too calm.” You didn’t know how to tell Pope that JJ was far from fine. That you’d hear him crying at night, muffled as he tried to wake you not knowing that you couldn’t sleep knowing he was outside the door crying and you couldn’t do anything to comfort him.
You’d tried asking him about it yourself. He simply acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about and you weren't one to push him. Not now, at least.
“He’s handling it all in his own way.” You reassured with mild uncertainty. “But I’ll keep an eye on him. How are you, though?”
The boy drew his lips into a thin line, tilting his head to the side in thought before shrugging and looking out at the fire in front of him. “I…don’t know.” He struggled out, almost as if he wasn’t completely sure of the words but also unsure if he was truly unsure. His brown eyes met yours, slightly glassed over with frustrated tears. “I really just don’t know.”
You gave him a pitiful smile before scooting closer and throwing your arm over his shoulders. The two of you sat in warm, content silence. In all your time of knowing Pope, he was never either fully closed off or openly emotional. He was the definition of a ticking time bomb — bottling everything up until he reached a certain breaking point. But this time, you’d figured he’d had all the meltdowns he could. 
AS YOU APPROACHED THE HAMMOCK, another figure became clear next to JJ’s — Marley curled up in a sleeping ball of fur next to the blonde. You chuckled under your breath at the sight, nudging the swing with your knee to prompt JJ to open his eyes. The boy peeked one eye open before the other, eyes fleeting the yard at Pope and Kiara’s frames talking at the bonfire before returning to yours. 
You took a seat on the grass in front of the hammock, looking up at JJ as he made the small effort to turn on his side to look down at you without disturbing the peaceful animal beside him. 
“Done being the group therapist?” He yawned, pushing the blonde locs of hair out of his face. You simply shrugged, rubbing a hand across your forehead. 
“Yeah, my office is closed.” You sighed, leaning back on your palms — small pebbles and mulch chips digging into them but you were too tired to care. “But you know I’m always willing to listen for you.” You said playfully, shooting the blonde a wink. He giggled in response, leaning forward in the hammock with one hand clutching it for support.
“You promised no pushing.” He mumbled sleepily.
“I’m not pushing.” You assured, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I’m just... politely suggesting that you open up to your best friend, is all.” You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to pick at your nails. 
“Right...how about we do a little switch-a-roo then, hm?” He threw out, shifting around once more in the hammock, eyes piercing yours. “How have you been? With everything. Bree, your mom…” He trailed off, eyes never leaving yours even though you avoided eye contact the moment he started listing issues. “I mean, The Chateau is nothing compared to your beachfront palace in Kooklandia. You gotta miss it sometimes. You’re telling me you never think about goin' home?”
You snarled, shrugging off his statement. “This is my home.” You declared, drifting your eyes upwards to connect with his, the amber glow of the bonfire making his eyes appear more green-toned than blue. “I never wanted to move to Figure Eight in the first place. I didn’t care about the ocean view or the fact that our living room and kitchen didn’t have to be one room anymore.” You explained, drawing shapes into the dirt. “I feel safe here.” You muttered. “I feel safer with you guys...”
He simply hummed and nodded in agreement. “I get that.” He sighed. “I feel the same about my house. I don’t really care that all my shit is there and that I have to sneak back and forth to get what I need. My dad… he makes me hate that house. And I hate myself for being able to hate the house because of him but not being able to hate him.”
“He’s your dad, though. It’s understandable. You feel like you should love him no matter what.”
“...Do you hate your mom?” You paused your drawing in the dirt to peer up at JJ through your lashes, his eyes wide and wondering. The question caused you to feel a way you’d never felt before. It was such a loaded question and even with everything that happened, you figured the answer should be easy but...it wasn’t. Saying that you hated your mother felt like venom on your tongue. Even if you knew you had every right to say that you did.
“No.” You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears. “But, it’s like, I don’t love her either. I just…don’t recognize her anymore. In my eyes, she’s not my mother. But in my heart, she is and always will be. And I hate that.”
The two of you fell into silence after that, the only sound being cicadas and crickets. You directed your gaze up to the sky, counting the stars and silently acknowledging constellations while JJ kicked one leg out to swing the hammock gently as he stared up as well.
You figured the conversation ended there. It was getting late and you’d scored a babysitting gig for tomorrow that was paying good money. So, you figured heading to bed now was ideal because being late wasn't. You sighed, hands slapping your knees as you stood up with a groan, stretching as JJ’s eyes drifted to your frame.
“Well, I think my social battery has officially died.” You yawned, stepping closer to the blonde to ruffle his fluffy head of hair. “Night, blond-” You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence before JJ’s hand was wrapping itself around your wrist, pulling you down until your faces were just centimeters apart, him taking the opportunity to connect your lips with his, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck.
Your eyes went impossibly wide as the blonde pressed his lips to yours firmly, his eyes closed blissfully. A normal, friendly reaction would be to push him away, to say that you shouldn’t be doing this. But the way he was kissing you..
It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.
From the way his fingers dug into your skin to the amount of force he was using to hold you in place.
Something in you suddenly relaxed, allowing you to close your own eyes and move your lips to kiss him back. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his for the moment. But you figured it would be nothing but. This was JJ, your best friend. He knew you like the back of his-
Oh. Oh, God. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing JJ. 
You pulled back so fast you nearly stumbled over your own feet, head whipping around in panic to find Kie and Pope still engulfed in their own conversation before turning back to the starstruck blonde in front you. His hair was messy and his lips were swollen with a deep shade of red blooming within the lower one. His own blue eyes were wide but you didn’t know for what reason. 
You just looked at each other with an unknown expression. Terror? Confusion?
Neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, panting in panic. Your heart was beating wildly out of your chest prompting you to adjust the neckline of your top away from your throat, the material suddenly feeling constricting.
You didn’t know what else to do so you did the only thing you could do.
Swallowing harshly and touching your aching, wet lips, you swiftly walked off in the direction of The Chateau. The last thing you heard was JJ call out your name one, heart aching time before the door of The Chateau closed behind you.
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risingoftime · 1 year
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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖊 | 𝖘𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖔 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗
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synopsis: Shuri pays a visit to Riri’s new apartment but is surprised that she no longer lives alone.
word count: 3k
warnings: smut, fingering, kimoyo bead toys, vibrating toys, dom!shuri, sub!reader, orgasm control, finger sucking, overstimulation, praise, slight hurt/angst/grief, drugged sex, marijuana use, couch sex.
note: haven’t written in a while, but I’m back now! I am slowly but surely going to get through requests, so please be patient with me ˙ᵕ˙
18+ | minors do not interact
➴ feel free to send me more thots
I set up my canvas in front of me and aligned my paintbrushes in the way I liked before lighting the spliff I had rolled earlier. I’ve been trying to get motivation, but I haven't had the easiest time finding inspiration around me since my Mother passed away due to cancer. Saying that my mom was my best friend is an understatement. At times it felt like she was all I had. I don’t have any siblings, and my Dad, I try my best not to think of him anymore. I remember crying to Riri once she returned. She hadn’t responded to my calls or messages when she got involved with the Wakandans. I understood why, but I will never forget the loneliness I felt when I couldn’t turn to my childhood best friend. If there is anyone who I can count on, it is Riri. When Riri returned, she rarely left my side. It’s the reason why we share an apartment now. We live close enough to MIT, so she doesn’t have to commute far, and my art gained a lot of following, so I opened a gallery in Massachusetts. She made money from hustling students and doing their school projects. While my gallery and custom canvases have allowed me to work and afford anywhere, I please. I took a big hit of the spliff before going on my phone to order a pizza since Riri was still at MIT working on her midterms. There was no point in waiting up for her to cook. I turned up my speakers to drown out the white noise with neo-soul, thought it would suit the vibe I’m on as I smoke and paint. I turned back towards my empty canvas, fiddling with my brush. It’s been a month, and I still couldn’t get the image of the Wakandan Princess Riri described.
I already have plenty of sketches of what I thought the Princess would look like in her panther suit, but I don’t think I’ve successfully captured the vulnerable side Riri spoke of yet. I lightly sketched an outline of her face in the top corner for reference before I decided on a pose and background. I chose the streets of Chicago to drape the backdrop, the neighbourhood I grew up in. I was centring the female Black Panther surrounded by the faceless members of the hood. I got lost in my art, utilizing my childhood memories to fill out the spaces on the canvas until I was left with the area the panther would occupy. I fiddled with my pencil as I tried to envision the stoic expression she would have.
The knock at the door pulled me away from my work. I was surprised that the pizza arrived so quickly. Tony’s Pizzeria was rarely on time, but it’s the only pizza I liked and worth the wait. I grabbed the twenty-dollar bill left on the kitchen counter and unlocked the front door to find none other than Princess Shuri. I couldn’t hide the shock written all over my face. I jolted backwards away from the door, unsure how to react.
“I’m starting to think American girls don’t like me very much. Riri had a similar reaction when I first visited her at her dorm,” she laughed.
I stood straight, still shocked that she stood before me in the flesh. Princess Shuri brushed past me to enter my apartment and closed the door to the apartment behind her. The Princess was introduced to the mess I’d made while working on my canvas. My drop cloth covered the hardwood floors, my paint supplies were strewn around my wooden stool, and my big green plants were pushed to the edges of the living room. In the distance, I could zero in on my bonnet on top of the couch. That made me spring into action, trying to tidy up the loft. She probably thinks I’m a mess! I was sure that I looked frantic as I did this.
“I’m sorry, I wasn't expecting company. Riri is supposed to come home later in the evening from her exams if that’s why you’re here.” I still held the spliff in my hand and subconsciously took another pull due to the onset of the stress of having the Princess in my apartment. I regretted doing it as soon as I blew out the smoke. “Shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” I aggressively fanned the smoke away. But the Princess wasn’t paying attention to me. Instead, her eyes were trained on the canvas I was working on—focused on the spot where I sketched a rough draft of her face. I felt my heart beat out of my chest from embarrassment. Could anything else go wrong?
“I was just doodling and passing the time,” I tensed in anticipation of what she will say next.
“I don’t think you got my jawline right,” she said after giving it the last few glances. I analyzed her facial features and looked back to the canvas. She was right. The Princess’s jawline was now sharper and more defined. Gone was the roundness from the old photos I saw of her in the media. As I walked towards her, I pursed my lips in response and put out the spliff in the ashtray beside my art supplies.
“You should know I’m an artist and sensitive about my shit,” I joked.
“The one and only Erykah Badu,” she smiled in acknowledgement.
“I’m surprised you know the reference.”
Princess Shuri rolled her eyes at me as a way to say, “Duh.” I didn’t know much about her outside of what Riri and the tabloids had told me, which hasn’t been much. The Princess removed her blazer to make herself comfortable and revealed her toned arms in a muscle tank. I tried my best not to gawk as I watched her grab the wooden stool and place it on the opposite side of the canvas.
“Let me be your live muse, might as well get acquainted while we wait for Riri,” she smiled.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to keep me company,” I replied.
“But I want to, and pass me that joint while you’re up” Princess Shuri nodded towards the ashtray holding my spliff.
“Wait, Princess Shuri, are you even allowed to smoke?” I asked incredulously.
“Call me Shuri, and I will be coronated as Queen soon. So technically, I can do whatever I want now.”
“Okay… Shuri” It felt odd calling her by her first name. It made me feel like we were common acquaintances instead of strangers worlds apart. I passed Shuri the spliff, and she leaned in closer to me, tilting her head up to make eye contact with me to make it easier for me to light it. I quickly retreated to my easel to shift it over and prepped my colours to begin working. I watched as she inhaled and exhaled the smoke with ease as if she’s done it a million times. But, there was more to her than meets the eye.
“What made you get into painting?” Shuri asked. Her eyes observed the numerous half-finished projects and paintings on the wall. I’ve genuinely turned our apartment into a more personal studio.
“Uhm, my art helps me process my emotions and trauma. Each canvas is a journal entry for me. When I lost my Dad, I became depressed and introverted. It was my Mother who introduced me to art through different vessels in my life. She wanted me to have an outlet where I could express myself, something to soothe my soul, as she would say.” I blinked back my tears from the memories of her, the loss still fresh in my heart.
“She sounds like a lovely woman.”
“She was,” I whispered.
I briefly peeked at Shuri and saw her analyzing me. Her eyes were sad but filled with tenderness, “I’m sorry for your loss,” Shuri said.
“Me too,” I replied.
“I guess we have more in common than we think” Shuri sighed and pulled another drag of smoke into her lungs.
It was silent between us afterwards, only the music saving us from the tension in the room. I continued to perfect her jawline, adding a darker shade to add dimension. Shuri kept shifting her head, and it was beginning to make it challenging to get a good view of her features. Finally, I set down my brush in frustration.
“You keep moving, and it’s driving me crazy. I need you to keep facing forward toward me with your head slightly tilted to the right,” I huffed.
“Like this?” Shuri began posing in numerous ways jokingly, clearly feeling the effects of the weed. I couldn’t help but giggle a bit at her goofiness. I walked towards her and gently grabbed her chin to adjust her accordingly. I stood in between her parted legs to do this. Shuri’s eyes were low and slightly red. She looked at me lustfully and slowly licked her lips. My stomach erupted with butterflies, and my nerves peaked.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.
“What? Can’t I admire you? It’s only fair after you’ve been doing the same. I want to see why Riri sings such high praises of you.” Her gaze lowered to rake over my body hungrily. Shuri inhaled the last bit of the spliff and stood before me. Holding my chin, she blows the smoke in my mouth, lips grazing mine. I was thoroughly in a daze from my high and having her so close to me. The taste of smoke and her skin drove me crazy, craving more. She bent down and peppered small kisses as she made a trail to my neck, tracing her tongue along my neck and sending shivers down my spine. Shuri smelled sweet, like vanilla and had a hint of something else. I felt the pool of arousal in my panties as she teased me with her hands, groping and massaging my ass. I lightly pushed her off me to meet her eyes, my head spinning from how fast we were moving.
“What are we doing? we shouldn’t do this,” I stated.
Princess Shuri answered my question with her own, “You don’t want me to make you feel good?”
I paused at the forwardness of her question. If we continue, surely there wouldn’t be no turning back. But I didn’t want to stop now. I went on my toes to kiss her lips once more, slipping my tongue inside to deepen the kiss. Our tongues moved against the other. I pushed my body closer, rubbing my breast against hers. Shuri lifted me to press my core against hers and guided us to the couch. I straddled her as she ground herself against me. Shuri moaned in my mouth and bit my bottom lip. Her hands were firm on my hips as she moved me against her to keep pace with her movements. Shuri’s mouth left no place untouched. She left marks on my neck down to my breast. She was sucking and swirling her tongue as she did so.
“Shuri, please, I want you,” I moaned.
“How do you want me, princess?” she cooed.
“I want you to fuck me,” I admitted. She pushed me down onto my back so I was lying on the couch. Shuri toyed with the brim of my sweatpants, making her way down to my already soaked panties.
“You feel so good,” she mumbled against my neck and rubbed my clit in circular motions. Her fingers were slick with my juices. I rolled my waist to feel every stroke and closed my eyes to focus harder on how Shuri made me feel. I found myself getting lost in it until we heard the ringing of my apartment intercom.
“Fuck, that’s probably the pizza I ordered,” I groaned in frustration at the inconvenience of their timing.
“That’s alright. I’ll go get it,” Shuri offered.
“I don’t want you to stop and leave” I couldn’t hide the pout that formed on my face from the disappointment I felt.
“Who said we had to stop?” she asked.
Shuri plucked two Kimoyo beads from her bracket and slipped them onto the folds of my panties.“Be a good girl for me, and don’t cum until I come back.” I was confused about what she was referring to until I felt the active vibrations coming from the beads. I sat up in shock from the new wave of pleasure, my mouth slightly parted as I let out a soft breath. Shuri smirked in response and got up to retrieve her blazer.
“Don’t move,” she said sternly before turning her back and leaving me alone in my apartment. A small whimper left my mouth, and my thoughts were no longer coherent. I needed her to fuck me and relieve me from my aching desires.
I began panting desperately, trying to control my breathing to prevent the orgasm that was building within me. What were minutes felt like hours. The Kimoyo beads stroked my folds and clit in a painfully slow vibrating motion. I tried to find a position that would allow me to gain relief. However, the beads increased their vibration and speed whenever I tried to adjust them. Caressing my pussy with the utmost precision. Shuri knew what she was doing when she created these. I clenched my thighs together, but it only made things even more unbearable. Finally, the friction sent me over the edge, and I didn’t know how long I could stand. My legs started to shake uncontrollably. Yet I refused to move. I want to show the Princess I can be a good girl.
When Shuri came back, I was dangerously close to unloading, “Shuri, please, I want to cum” I cried.
Shuri enjoyed seeing her effect on me without even having to lay a finger. She slowly strolled to me after placing the food on the counter. I envisioned how I probably looked splayed open and vulnerable for her taking. My hair slightly stuck to my forehead, and my eyes rolled back in anticipation of what would come next.
“Look how wet you are for me.” her gaze was fixated on the darkened moist spot between my thighs. I was soaking through my grey pants. “I want you to beg for me,” she stated.
I pressed my lips in contemplation, unsure if my pride would allow such a thing. “Or I could just leave you like this while I help myself to your pizza,” she offered. “No, Shuri please!” She raised her eyebrows and only said, “I’m waiting.” I let out another moan as the beads did not subside or pause. My clit was overstimulated and tender to the touch.
I groaned in protest and looked into her eyes once more. “Shuri, I’m begging you. I want you to make me cum, only you, please.” I rambled in desperation for her to see how needy I was for her. I had no interest in games or toys.
“Louder.”
“Shuri, I only want you right now. I’ll do anything!”
Without hesitation, Shuri removed my clothing until I was left bare. The Kimoyo beads were drenched when we attached them back to her bracelet. Her strength and swiftness were evident throughout. Shuri watched me as she petted my entrance, playing with the sultry fluids inside my folds. Her mouth hovered over mine while she whispered, “You’re so beautiful when you beg.”
Shuri started thrusting into me, pounding her fingers in and out of me at an unmatchable pace. Shuri continued to push her long slender fingers into me, slightly curling them to hit my g-spot. The way my cunt clenched around her drove her to sweet insanity. Shuri’s eyes glazed over me, and she said, “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I first laid eyes on you.” I met her strokes with urgency making Shuri take more control over me. Her other hand fondling my breast and nipple made me cry ecstatically. Her lips returned to the side of my neck, deepening the shade of marks she had already left. I didn’t think it was possible for her to get any deeper into my gushing pussy, but she proved me wrong. At this pace, my neighbours will no doubt know what happened. My screaming moans were insolent.
“Oh yeah, keep fucking me like that. I’m so close.”
I ground my pussy against her hand, riding the swell of euphoria that came over me. It only took a few more thrusts before I arched my back and stiffened under her command. Shuri buried her face in the curve of my neck, groaning quietly. “That’s it, baby. I got you”. The tightness in my abdomen slowly declined as Shuri whispered praises against my skin. My hips faltered from exhaustion.
Once I was settled and calmed my breathing, she slid her fingers into my mouth. I licked and sucked my cum off her two fingers until all I could taste was my saliva and arousal. “let me taste you.” Shuri removed her fingers from my mouth and replaced them with her tongue. Licking the remnants from my lips.
She pulled back to smile and brushed back my curls away from my forehead. “if we don’t move now, the pizza is going to get cold,” she said.
“I don’t think I have enough energy to stand up” my legs felt weak from trembling.
“Well, you have to eat something” Shuri smirked at her double innuendo, and I almost took her up for it before my stomach growled. Perfect timing. Shuri began to laugh even harder at the sound.
“Shut up,” I smiled. For the first time in what felt like forever, a person other than Riri had been able to make me laugh.
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Tis The Damn Season | Part 2
Ellie Williams x Reader
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Photo credit: [ x ]
Summary: After your unexpected run-in with your ex girlfriend Ellie, you take a trip down memory lane and explore your spots in Jackson. The next morning, Your mom starts to make a miraculous recovery which leaves you with some hope. Come nightfall, that ex girlfriend makes yet another surprise appearance, and one that you can’t ignore.
Rating: M [mentions of past relationship, mentions of an ill mother, & angst w/reader & Ellie.]
WC: 4.7k
A/N: Sorry that part 2 took forever to come out. I’ve had lotssss happening in my personal life and creating anything was hard, but I hope you enjoy this part 2!
Taglist: @bready101 @onlinelesbo
Part One | Masterlist | How you can help Palestine
——————-
You were left alone again. Except a new feeling had crept up on you that hadn’t been there before. It could be relief from getting your first run-in with your ex, or a shaken emotion from seeing someone who was like a dark ghost in your mind. You couldn’t put your finger on it. All you could think about was the brick building that sat directly in front of you.
Before the outbreak, one could call this place a cafe of some sort. Since those were in severely few supply nowadays, it was more of a dinner, cafe, and hang-out spot all combined into one.
A lot of teens and young adults would come here to do school work, just have a chat, or grab a bite to eat. You and Ellie had claimed this spot as your first romantic public endeavor.
Without much thought, your feet moved until you stood directly down the center of the bay windows. Your reflection shone as you moved your face closer to the windows so you could get a proper look at the place. The only light illuminating the inside was one cast from the string lights that hung above, however, you could still make out the familiar mixed-matched tables and chairs that held so many memories of so many people.
And then, you saw it. That same roughened, wooden table you knew from your teenagehood. It was tucked away in the farthest right corner-one that you remember picking on purpose so you and Ellie could have some sort of privacy within a social place.
At this very place was where Ellie held your hand for the first time, where you and her took a pocket knife to the wood of the table and carved your initials inside of a heart to be engrained forevermore.
The last memory, however, was a bitter one. One that had you moving as far away from the glass as one stride of your legs could get you. It was like you saw a ghost of the past. She lingered everywhere and stained every wall in that place in the best and worst way possible.
You’d rather not reminisce on the day when you ended things with her, all because Ellie, “didn’t know what she wanted” when it came to the both of you or life in general. It’s funny how you chose that very table and chairs to end what started in those exact seats.
You hadn’t realized how cold you were until your concentration was broken by the chattering of your teeth. Your eyes glanced downwards and caught a glimpse of your red raw hands. You figured you should head home.
As your cold legs and feet backtracked along the path, you couldn’t shake the image of Ellie’s face that you’d seen only moments ago. She still looked like Ellie, but different. The adult years aged their way onto her face and bones like expensive wine. You thought adulthood suited her very well. You felt yourself analyzing this “new” Ellie your entire stroll home.
Soon enough, your hand was opening the door and enclosing you in the warmth of your home..well, your old home. Slowly, your cold feet shuffled along until you were in bed with closed eyes and a mind that finally was able to drift into the unconscious world.
A couple of blocks away, Ellie herself had just gotten into her bed. That is, once she was able to pry herself from the window that, just so happened to have a crystal clear view of your route home.
The both of you went to bed with thoughts of the other swirling like rainstorms.
The sun shone through the window much too soon in your opinion. Your hand shielded your eyes as you picked up your watch from the table side bed; you groaned as you saw the two hands on the clock.
Though you did eventually get some sleep the night before, it was a small amount that still had your eyes stinging and puffy and your brain in an eternal fog. However, your mother was on your mind and you knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep just to catch a couple of extra hours when instead you could be spending that time with your mother at her bedside.
You were eager to get up and outfit your body in proper warm clothes, all while a pot of coffee boiled on the single electric stove top. Once the dark tan liquid was poured into a thermos and your work boots were strapped on your feet, you set off for what lay beyond the front door.
The sun rose moments ago as the streets were only littered with a couple of people who were either on top of their horses with rifles slung over their shoulders, or those who were on foot, busy getting the chores for the morning done.
Familiar faces greeted with sympathetic looks as you journeyed back to the infirmary. They didn’t have to start any pity-driven conversations with you for it to be clear that every single person you were coming across in this god-forsaken town was seeing you as fragile. You despised it.
Being fragile, for you, meant being weak and you’d go to the ends of the earth to prove that you were anything but weak. One could suppose that being meek or non-self-sufficient was one of your biggest fears.
The sun shone through the smudged windows, bringing a bright sunny light to this dreary place. A wave of antiseptic and gauze tingled inside your nostrils, bringing a weird sort of nostalgia. You caught the eye of the nurse from the night before, and she quickly had you follow her lead as she walked you down to your mother's cot.
“How’s she doing?”
The nurse tried her best to put on a happy face, but it looked so forced, it was impossible to see it as truth. “I checked on her a couple of hours ago and she was…, she seems to be the same as the last time you saw her”.
You nodded slowly as the heaviness of your mother's health remained on your chest.
The both of you passed rows and rows of empty and filled cots that were enveloped in stained curtains that hung from orange, rusted hooks attached to the ceiling. It felt dystopian to have such a bright sun shining down on people who were actively fighting to stay alive. You just hoped the same fate wasn’t stricken upon your mother- and it seemed that your hope was a force to be reckoned with.
There your mother was, sitting up with her back resting against the cold brick wall. She still looked ill, but that corpse-like appearance and the greyness of her skin was fading into a more natural tone. She seemed alive.
You couldn’t hold back your joy as you squealed, “Mom!”, and came to sit on the floor next to her bed.
The nurse stood with mouth agape as your mother sat her hand on top of yours; you enveloped your hand with hers almost immediately.
“How are you doing Mom?”
Her voice was rasped, but her smile was genuine as she told you she was fine and found much more importance in asking how you were doing and what you had been up to. At this moment, it was obvious your fear of weakness had come from somewhere or rather from someone.
Day turned into sunset and sunset turned into the grey of night. Your mother’s eyes were drooping the later it got and you knew she was pushing herself only because she was enjoying the time she was spending with you. With a little bit of convincing, you were able to get your mother tucked away in bed. Your lips pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead as you whispered sweet words into her ear. The night nurse herself couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between the two of you.
“I’ll come to find you if anything changes”, she said softly. You nodded before giving your mother one last look. A surge of joy and hope was alive in your heart- one that you hadn’t felt since..well, a long time.
As you exited the infirmary, your eyes looked up to the night sky. You noticed how the stars were brighter tonight than they had been the night prior. You knew Ellie would be looking up at the sky tonight in awe-you could picture it perfectly and you hated it. You hated how it had become a habit for you to look up to the nighttime sky any time you were given the oportunity, all because of her.
Thankfully, your thoughts of her were quickly interrupted.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” that all too familiar, deep voice hummed in fatherly comfort.
“Hello again Joel. You just getting home?”
Joel nodded from his place on top of his horse, a near reflection of the night before. “Yeah. We had a long day today, didn’t we girl?”
You smiled as you watched him lovingly pat the side of his brown quarter horse.
“You know, I’m cooking some of my famous soup tonight. It’s been stewing all day and I sure could use some help eating it.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his dim suggestion that was a clear ploy. “Hmm, I wonder who could be available to help you out there Joel. I think I may know someone.”
Joel raised his eyebrow with fake astonishment, “Oh really? Maybe this someone could hitch a ride with me on the back of my horse and I could give them a homecooked meal tonight. I’m sure this someone hasn’t had one in a longgg time.”
You shook your head grinning ear to ear, “You’re ridiculous you know that.” However, the humor was quick to leave your eyes as you thought about Joel’s home. Most, if not all of the memories were drunk with her. “Will uh-will Ellie be there?”
Joel’s smile fell the slightest bit as he answered honestly. “Nah. She’s out on patrol tonight and she won’t be back ‘til morning. Besides, she’s got her own little place behind the house now. She only really comes around when she wants some of my cookin’ - and who could blame her!”
You reveled in his talent of being able to turn a near-sour moment into a positive one. “Then I guess I have no choice but to have some of your world-famous soup.”
With that, you reached your hand up to meet Joel’s as he assisted you in getting on the back of his horse.
You noticed that it wasn’t as cold today. The snow was beginning to melt from the bare branches of the trees and it nearly felt like a new season was on the horizon. You knew it was silly, but you thought how nice it would be should your life be shifting in a sort of new beginning as well. One with a happy, healthy mother and maybe one without as much hatred for a girl you were desperately trying to forget.
Before long, you and Joel were at the all too familiar Rancher Street with his modest home in the near distance. The white picket fence stood out amongst the soggy brown soil as you walked from the back of the house, where Joel had stowed away his precious mare, to the front entrance. The dingy garage where you knew Ellie was living sent a shiver down your spine as you spotted it sitting beneath the dim oil street light. Quickly, you turned around and followed behind Joel before curiosity got the best of you.
The moment Joel flicked the light switch, the orange, warm hue was so familiar and comforting that you felt like you were drenched in the comfiest blanket you’d ever felt. His home felt so warm. However, your comfort was interrupted by a rustling coming from deep within the home.
“Stay here,” Joel said with a protective outreached arm as his eyes scanned the parameter.
Cautiously, he walked in a near slink-like manner as he retracted the knife that he had stowed away in his back pocket and held the sharpened end out in front of his chest. Foot by foot, he walked slowly, yet with assertiveness.
Just as Joel got to the very back of the main hallway a rattle sounded again in the same area which you now presumed was the kitchen. Out of caution, he rested the flat of his back against the wall that was shielding the kitchen from the rest of the home until suddenly, a figure that appeared to you as a shadow began coming closer and closer to the open doorway that Joel was centimeters away from.
Joel knew it was now or never as he jumped quickly, keeping his head straight to stare directly into the kitchen at whatever or whoever was intruding in his space.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack kid! What are you doing here?” You saw a full sigh leave Joel’s body as his body physically relaxed right in front of you. You watched, puzzled by the entire situation, until you heard the voice of the mysterious intruder who, it turns out, was no stranger to you afterall.
“Sorry”, she spoke. At the sound, you felt as if every bone in your body broke all at once. You had the urge to run straight out of the door you had walked in moments ago, yet you remained frozen in place.
“Me and that new guy switched shifts and I smelled your soup cooking on my way home so..”
“So what you’re saying is, my soup made you break into my damn house?” Joel spoke with amusement in his voice. From his side profile, you could make out his signature amused smile as he shook his head back and forth.
Ellie said, “Pretty much,” and you could perfectly picture the way her shoulders shrugged in playful arrogance.
“Well don’t let me interrupt your dinner. Help yourself,” Joel said as his am stretched upward on the door frame and looked down the hallway. His face went slack as he remembered your presence as well as the promise he assured you of and how that promise was under the very same roof.
Joels mouth hung open while his eyes looked at you with “i’m sorry” written in his pupils. He tried his best to assess the situation and somehow work it out in your favor in a matter of minutes, but it was inevitable.
“Were you talking to someone outside? I thought I heard you.” Ellie questioned as she screwed the lid on her thermos. Joel didn’t answer - he appeared frozen in time as he searched your face.
“Or have you started talking to yourself now that you’re getting old as shit?”, Ellie teased with a smirk, expecting a similar reaction from Joel, yet his face remained like a stone.
“Is everything okay?”, she said with genuine concern in her eyes. “Oh god, did you bring a date home or something?”
Before Joel could figure out a plan or stop her from moving past him on the opposite side of the kitchen island, Ellie emerged from the doorway and was met with your hardened figure by the front door.
Neither of you said anything. It felt like a staring contest to see who would say something or make a move first and both of you were overly committed to winning this game of sorts.
“Uh.” Joel spoke as he moved to stand directly next to Ellie. “I’m uh-i’m sorry Ellie. I thought you wouldn’t be around or else-”
“Why’s she here?”, Ellie spat with eyes narrowed directly on you.
“I’ll just go.” Your hands shook as you turned yourself around and wrapped your hand around the door knob. You began to twist against the cold metal, until you heard an urgent “Wait” as Ellie protested your departure.
She wore a much softer expression when you turned around. Her face had relaxed-almost fallen-and her eyes were sympathetic.
“I was going to take this to go anyways”, Ellie said shaking the thermos for emphasis. “I’ll uh-catch you later Joel. Thanks for the soup.”
Accordingly, Ellie slipped out of the back door-her winter boots leaving mild, yet visible foot prints in her wake.
As soon as the door closed, Joel offered an apology that sounded as if he had put you in the most horrifying situation possible.
“I told you Joel. It’s fine-really!”
“Are you sure? Wouldn’t want you thinking i set this up somehow. No matter how much I enjoyed you with Ellie, I would never do that to you.”
You nodded honestly. “I know.”
After the apologies and reassurances, you and Joel jumped right in to where you’d left off. Joel immediately went to work in the kitchen. Grabbing bowls and spoons and napkins. Asking you what drink you’d like and offering up his prized whiskey that you knew he didn’t offer to just anybody.
Just as the two of you were sat at the table with all the dinner essentials, there was a light knock at the front door. One that was so faint, if it weren’t for the silence of the apocalyptic world, you surely would’ve missed it.
Joel sighed as he stood from the table and tossed his napkin down onto the white lace table runner. “Sorry for all the interruptions. I’ll be quick.”
You nodded as your lips met the tip of your glass and the copper colored liquid burned down your throat in the best way possible. The whiskey was smooth and had you reminiscing on all of those past dinners with Ellie and Joel and this divine whiskey. If only things were as simple now as they were back then.
Joel’s voice was mumbling something in the distance, but his tone was so deeply hushed, you couldn't make out exact words or phrases. Then, came the footsteps. Suddenly, Joel and Ellie were standing in the dining room, both looking less than ecstatic.
“I’m sorry to do this to you, but Ellie’s generator blew out and can’t seem to get it up and running again.” Joel’s eyes couldn’t even look at yours as he spoke.
“I can just go to Dina’s or something-“
“No.” Joel and Ellie’s heads shot up to look at you which suddenly made you grow shy over your protest that flew out of your mouth before you could even properly think about it. “You should stay.”
“I should?”, Ellie questioned with a crease running along her forehead and eyes that were bunched together.
You look at Joel and then back at Ellie. “Yeah, you should.”
The dinner was quiet. It seemed like you could hear the sound of every fork scraping along China and each gulp that moved liquid down someone’s throat. Joel was the only saving grace, and thank god for it.
“So. What are you up to nowadays? Where have you been staying?”
“A town thats a bit away. Nothing special about it really. I mainly keep to myself and just try to stay alive.”
Joel nodded along as you spoke. “Do you think you’ll ever come back to Jackson permanently? I know you’re missed her and not just by your mama.”
Curiously, your eyes move over to Ellie’s to see if Joel’s question gets any sort of response out of her. She is stone faced as she moves her fork around her plate.
Secretly, in the deepest pit of your stomach You wanted her to miss you. You wanted her talk about you constantly while you were gone. You wanted her to not be able to move on from you just as you weren’t able to move on from her.
How selfish. You knew it was an act of ultimate self pleasure and yet the indulgence never ended. Some sick part of yourself wanted her to ache just as much as you were aching to be with her again. Yet you suppressed it all.
You acted as if she didn’t exist and that you didn’t care, but at this dinner table you could feel your facade crumbling into a thousand pieces because every damn question, you found yourself looking to Ellie to see a reaction of pain or longing or something else to signal that she missed you or cared about what you had been up to since you left. You weren’t even close to being over her, regardless of how hard you tried.
“Everything alright?”
You looked up to see both Joel and Ellie staring at you in the midst of your silence. You could only hope your facial expression didn’t give away how truly crazy and overwhelmed you felt.
“Yeah-yeah! I'm fine, just a bit tired I guess.”
Joel nodded as he spooned the final bite of his soup into his mouth. Ellie’s bowl was still nearly full.
“Maybe I should head out.” You said, patting the napkin along the line of your lips. “It’s getting late and I want to get up bright and early to see my mom.”
You needed to get some fresh air and you needed it now.
“I can walk you.”
For a moment you felt anger. Anger that your loneliness was being dismantled when you craved solidarity, until you remembered who it was that was saying those sweet words. The very poison that filled the cup that you couldn’t seem to drag away from your mouth.
“You don’t have to, really”
“I know I don’t have to.” Ellie’s tone was one you didn’t dare to question. Not that you had a choice as she was already gathering her belongings that were strewn by the back door.
Ellie fully prepared to give you a true piece of her mind. She told herself that if ever given the opportunity, she would lay it on you. Tell you how much you hurt her. Tell you how confused and fucked up she felt after hearing that you’d left without a trace, all while being silent with your goodbyes. She’d rehearsed the speech a million times in her head when she’d lay in her empty bed with nothing but the light of an outdoor lamppost casting shadows through the dustied window. She was so dark and utterly alone.
On the other hand, Ellie was an idiot either. She knew the reason you left was because of the fight. She knew she was being a child, and she knew that she was fighting off a force that wasn’t a threat to her, but Ellie would’ve never expected you to leave how you did strictly from her actions. You were headstrong and stubborn and everything she loves in a woman - but who's to say a human can’t have moments they regret.
Who's to say that Ellie wished she told you right then and there that she loved you instead of acting like you were a puzzle she didn’t know the answer to when she knew, damn well, that she was completely smothered in adoration for you. She knew she loved you - but saying it made her vulnerable, bare-naked.
She’d lost so many in life and getting closer to you-loving you- would just be a precursor for the pain Ellie would feel when she eventually lost you, because everyone leaves. That’s exactly what you did. You left.
Silently, you walked to the front door, grabbing your coat and slipping on your boots over your wool socks.
“You both be safe alright?”, Joel said while walking towards the both of you as you stood by the front door. He wore a smile that was interesting to say the least. You swore you could see hope in his eyes.
“Thanks again for dinner Joel.” You kindly waved him off and turned around to face Ellie who was holding open the front door for you. Chivalry isn’t crucified after all, even when it’s your ex.
It was so quiet. A howl from the wind or a nearby coyote was the only audible objects-that and the snow being smothered underneath both of your shoes. Speaking of shoes - the canvased sneakers that were nearly begging to be tossed in the trash still clung to Ellie’s feet even in this sort of weather. It made you chuckle ever so slightly.
Funny - Ellie wasn’t sure what on earth could be funny at a time like this.
“What?”
You shook your head, feeling shy all of a sudden as Ellie tried her best to figure you out. So many questions hung over her head when it came to the thought of you. A deep marooned contrast of when she was yours and you were hers; she’d never known someone as much as she knew you back then.
“No, tell me. What’s so funny”, Ellie’s words came with venom in her spit. It caught you off guard as you walked with your mouth agape before directing your eyes to the road ahead instead of Ellie’s tattered shoes.
“Those fucking things,” You said motioning to the shoes that Ellie glanced down to look at.
The skin on Ellie’s forehead screwed together as she too kept her eyes forward. “What about them?”
“Nothing.. just..still wearing those converse in the snow I see.”
Suddenly Ellie stopped in her tracks as flames began to seethe through her pupils. She felt her muscles tense up as her jaw began to ache from how hard her teeth were being gnashed together on her own accord. “Why do you do that?”
You were confused, but mimicked her stillness as your hands settled to cross in front of your chest as if it were a boundary. “Do what?”
“Talk down to me like that!”
“Oh c'mon El, you know I’m only giving you shit. Lighten up a little.”
“Lighten up? You want me to lighten up after-.” Ellie stopped the words from tumbling out of her mouth by pinching her lips together as tightly as she possibly could.
There it was. The barricade was bombed and the dam was broken. You could feel your body begin to shake and your teeth grit behind your lips as the topic that you were desperately trying to avoid-the very elephant in the room was being exposed and drawn from behind it’s curtain.
“You really want to do this now? While my fucking mother is in the hospital Ellie! I don’t know if she's even going to make it and you’re focused on why I left?”
Suddenly you were the one steaming red as your gut reaction kicked in. Your palms met Ellie’s chest as you pressed her backwards slightly. Not in an effort to physically harm her, but one that got her-the trauma-as far away from you as possible. “Get away from me.”
Of course Ellie felt bad. Your mother hadn’t even crossed her mind today, she was ashamed to say. It seems that the anger and sadness and grief of you overcame the entire reason she was seeing you face to face, thus her being too free spoken with words that fell on the spectrum of hate.
By the time she’d accepted her ignorance, you’d already started fast walking away.
“Hey, please. C’mon babe.” Ellie knew it was trouble the second the pet name was accidentally spoken.
“Don’t you dare call me that!”
Ellie could feel the tears well in her water line and god did she hate it. She hated how you were pushing her away again and again and again even if she knew why.
“Just talk to me, please.” Ellie begged with a tone that was pathetic to any ears who caught it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t affect you.
Ellie was never one to show emotion. Exhibit A: when you confronted her about what the both of you were and she responded with “I don’t know”. You’d think the girl was a god damn Capricorn with the amount of avoidance she displayed when it came to anything emotional. But this was so much more than the stars in the sky and the time she was born.
In the heat of the moment, the both of you had already swiftly walked the route to your mothers home. You knew you shouldn’t do it, yet you felt it gnaw away through your skin, into your bones as the anger and frustration began to slither away to hide in the snow covered grass.
“Do you want to-“
“Yeah”, Ellie interrupted with several nods of her auburn colored head.
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Happy Birthday Wally: Actor Wally x Stage hand one off
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Do not tag clown bee cause they don’t want to be tagged in written fan art but for everyone else to se HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLOWN AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVERYONE WHO HAS BIRTHDAY TODAY 🎂 make sure to keep you eyes out for random birthday cakes
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🍎Today was just another day for Wally. Drive to the stage area. Park his car in his private spot. Head on in to go to his dressing room and get a team to do his makeup. He actually forgot it was his birthday because the week had been so busy. They had been making a Mother’s Day post and talking about moms on the show and people who we see as moms. It was exhausting to Wally. He never really talks about his mother. Though he loves her a lot. He just gets so busy with work that he barely has time to contact family. He heads to the stage shooing away the makeup artists who finished with him so he can go to wardrobe. He notices you and his fellow cast mates whispering but is whisked away to be in todays outfit.
🎬 You were talking with the cast the other day and they told you about Wally’s birthday. Barnaby told you how busy they all been lately and how Wally may have forgotten. So you all got together and formed the Wally Birthday 🎂 surprise group. Poppy would bake the cake. Howdy would get the supplies and Sally would decorate. Since those three weren’t in this weeks episode. They really wanted to help out. So you tell them to bring everything to the dressing room on Wally’s birthday and while everyone is filming the show , they set up for the surprise party. You watch Wally walk by and wait for him to leave the dressing and as soon as he left , the party set up started!
🍎 Wally exits the dressing rooms and sees that Howdy , Poppy, and Sally walk away. He just assumes they going to go chill at the food court area since they weren’t in todays episode. He watches you run around seeming to do even more extra stuff. He wonders what you are doing but he does the episode. Barnaby was talking about his chicken mother. Julie was talking about her oldest sister who she sees as a mom. Frank talked about how his mother used to put bandages on his knee when he fell and Eddie talked about how his mother made the best biscuits he ever had. Wally talks about his mother with the others as they record the show. Not knowing what was happening behind the scenes. Soon enough. They finished filming and everyone packed up. His friends left him like they ran. He was confused . But he heads to wardrobe to get in his regular clothes.
🎬You hush everyone. Making sure they have their gifts in their hands for Wally knowing he would be coming in. The door slowly opens and in comes Wally. You all yell , “SURPRISE !!! Happy Birthday Wally!!!” Confetti flew at him and his face looked shocked. Poppy showed a cake that had his face on it. 🎂 He was so shocked . Everyone hand their gifts and gave him hugs and sang happy birthday and he just smiles tearing up. You hand him your gift last. He opens it and it was a picture of all of them when you first started working together with them. “Thank you (y/n). And thank you for the birthday party,” he says which surprises you. He guessed right it was you. “I got one last gift for you Wally,” you say and give him a cheek kiss finally showing you like him . “Happy birthday Wally,” you say after it and his face turns bright red but he just sighs happily looking at you. “Thank you (y/n) ,” he holds your arm after was swooning over you . Best birthday ever
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Ta Da. Some little fluff for my darling. Happy birthday to Clown and everyone else who has a birthday this month!!!!!
Wally tags: @akilaporu001
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 7 months
Text
Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 2
Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader; Word Count 3.4k
Warnings: Swearing, Sexism
A/N; Hi everyone! I am so glad you guys liked the first part! It was so much fun to write, and when someone asked for this to be multi-chapter, I just couldn't get it out of my mind. So here's another part! I have no clue how long this will be yet, but I do have a plot in mind. Please enjoy, have fun, much love , <3. - Mo
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Eli and you made a pact to not tell the family that you now BOTH were working for one of the most feared men in the city. Eli would’ve been berated for an hour or two at best, thrown out at worst. You? One could only imagine how many years you would be locked in your room. When your mother and father asked about your interview and your new boss, you gave the prettiest pieces.
He is quite successful papa. The bakery is very large, easily 100 men employed!
Yes mama, I get my own desk, and I get Rosh Hashanah off.
Yes papa he is Jewish. Yes very respectable. No I don’t know what Temple he attends.
Yes mama Eli never left my side. And I suppose he is handsome. No mama I don’t know if he is married.
Your mother bustled about, checked all of your dresses and stockings, making sure they were all in perfect condition for your new job. She checked your bag of supplies possibly 30 times by the end of the night, just to ensure that you had everything you could possibly need, even things you may not have needed. A mother could never be too careful.
The next morning as you began to walk out of the door, your mother and father kept fussing over you, straightening your hat and sweater.
“Now dear since Eli’s shift does not start till later you will have to walk yourself ok? Be careful, don’t talk to anyone, you go right to the office yes?” Your mother reminded you for the umpteenth time.
“Yes mama of course. Straight to work.”
“And be on the look out for those awful gangsters poppet. The Peaky Blinders have been seen milling about town, and you know that God forsaken Solomons has his disgusting paws on every corner of the city.” Your father grunted out still drinking his morning tea.
You felt the tips of your ears warming. You hated to lie. You were so bad at it. “Of course papa. I’ll be careful, I love you! I might be home late, I’ll send Eli to alert you.”
You kissed them both and made your way down the street. Excited for a new start, and for what the day may hold.
It’s interesting how Alfie insisted on being at the office at 8, yet still had not shown up by 8:20. Thankfully Ollie had given you a tour of the distillery, shown you your desk (situated right in front of Alfie’s door) and given you the times of the meetings today. You had taken the liberty of starting up some tea on the small stove by your desk, and clearing out some of the crumpled paper strewn out across the floor. ‘Honestly for such a tyrant he really keeps this office unruly.’
You hear your name bellowed from outside the office, and you run out quickly. There you see Alfie, smiling at you. “Shalom my little viper! So you weren’t bluffing were you? Glad to see you aren’t as cowardly as Eli.”
You crossed your arms and you felt your mouth firm, “Shalom Alfie. You are late this morning and I have to talk to you about todays schedule. Ollie had to show me around the distillery and he informed me that you have 5 meetings today, FIVE! One of them is set to start in 20 minutes, and -.”
“Now now treacle hold your tongue, be sweet to me yeah? My back. Let get to work yeah?”
It was only then that you noticed the cane he was clutching. You immediately felt your chest become heavy, and guilt override. “Oh..Alfie I’m so sorry I didn’t know I-“
“Hush now pet don’t even begin to fuss. It’s just my back yeah?”
“What are you taking for it?”
Alfred just scoffed and rolled his eyes walking away from you and into his office.
“Mr. Solomons what are you doing to help your back!?”
“Be quiet woman! You want the whole town to know that Solomons’ got a bad back? Hush damnit! Now what is on the calendar? Who am I meeting with?”
“Well you have a Mr. Abrams coming in at 8:40. A Mr. Clochester at 10. Rabbi Rubin at 12. And a Mr. Shelby at 4. But you’re not seeing anyone until you-“
“Till I what huh? Till I what? Are you my mother? No! Now hush! Ollie! Get this woman a notepad now! Treacle sit there on that coach and be quiet!”
You just stared at Alfie, and you couldn’t help but feel shame and embarrassment. And Alfie was faring no better. He could see hints of tears threatening to spill, but your chin set firm, fists clenched. Alfie wanted grab you in his arms and… tell you he was sorry, but…
“Aw fuck… treacle… no you’re right. Treacle come please. What do you think?”
“Think about what Mr. Solomons?”
“Nah fuck that I told you Alfie. Tell me what you think I should do about these meetings and my damn back.”
"No not at all Alfie. If you don't need anything for the pain in your back then you don't. I'm just a woman right?
"Well now you're acting like a fucking child."
"Of course Alfie. Whatever you say Alfie."
You closed your ears off to what he was barking at you. Fine. If he wanted to suffer, he could suffer. It was far too early to fight with such a stubborn...beast of a man. And besides, you had things to attend to.
Despite the tiff this morning, the day went by smoothly. As smoothly as it can be in the distillery you supposed. Mr. Abrams left the room with a black eye and tears, promising he would never lie to Alfie again. Mr Colchester left more bloody than he came in. Rabbi Rubin was a delight, complimenting the tea you made, and scolded Alfie for not coming to temple recently.
Throughout the day, you could slowly but steadily see the stiffness working it's way up Alfie's spine. Though it didn't quite deter him from inflicting pain and vengeance on those who came in, you kept your eye in careful study. The small twitches of his eye. The rougher grunts when he got up from his seat, and the heavier footsteps as he walked around. You also noticed that he hadn't eaten all day, and when you asked about it he merely mumbled, "mmnot hungry''. But based on the way he quickly avoided your gaze when you caught him staring and the loud grumbling you heard at 3, you figured his resolve would have to melt soon.
At 3:45 you were at your desk, drafting out some letters Alfie had requested. It was while you were in deep focus, chewing on the tip of your thumb when you heard a soft cough.
Your head snapped up, and you were met with the iciest eyes you had ever set your eyes on.
Pretty.
That's the only thing you could think as you looked at the man in front of your desk. Clean shaven. Well dressed. The smell of tobacco and soap and...something secretive radiating off of him. You internally shook yourself out of you consideration of the man to finally say, "Good Afternoon sir, how can I help you?"
He smiled, in a soft way though you felt a rush in your chest, "My name is Thomas Shelby, I have a meeting with Mr. Solomons."
Oh. This is Thomas Shelby. Leader of THE Shelbys. "Oh yes Mr. Shelby I've been expecting you. You are a bit early, so if you could please sit. Can I offer some tea?"
He nodded, turning to the soft couch across from your desk, "Tea would be lovely, thank you love."
After serving him tea, you went back to work at your desk till the clock struck 4. At least you tried to. You felt those eyes all over you. You felt as though every muscle movement was being scrutinized. "Since when did Alfie get a secretary?"
"Today is my first day, he hired me yesterday."
Thomas hummed in understanding, looking out the window to your left, admiring the soft rain. "If I may be so bold, could I ask your name? I don't like not knowing who gave me tea."
You gave your name, looking directly into his eyes. He repeated it back, as if he was feeling out every consonant on his lips. Even though it was an innocent enough question, you couldn't shake the feeling that you needed to be on the offensive. As if he wanted something. "Where did he find you? You're far too pretty to be working for someone like Alfie."
"I found him. And I can assure you Mr. Shelby that my face had nothing to do with my hiring."
"As you wish darling."
As soon as he said it, you heard your name being called from inside Alfie's office. You quickly got up to meet him, and felt those eyes all over you.
Alfie looked horrible. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his vest and shirt were both half done, and he was scribbling away on some paper, "Oi, is that bastard here yet?"
"Mr. Shelby? Yes, he is sitting down waiting for you. I've just given him tea."
His head rose from his hands, and his thick brows were furrowed together, "The fuck did you give him tea for? He doesn't need tea, no he doesn't deserve tea!"
"Alfie you can have tea too if you ask me."
"No no no already told you I don't want tea. I don't want lunch. I don't want your help beyond taking the notes. I am a grown man damnit! Now for fucks sake, bring that damn bastard in here, sit on the couch, take the notes, and hush your mouth!"
He was teetering. This wasn't just being a gangster. This was a child who was fighting to take a nap. He was going to snap soon. So you just smiled cheekily, "Of course Alfie. I'll be right back."
You nearly skipped to the door. Alfie was growing increasingly frustrated, "AND TAKE AWAY THAT FUCKING CUP. NO ONE GETS TEA."
You did take the tea cup away from Mr. Shelby , and ushered him in, settling yourself down on your seat with your pad and pencil.
As Mr. Shelby settled in, he smiled and looked at Alfie, who was looking more and more disgruntled, "Good Afternoon Alfie. You look well."
"Fuck off Tommy. What do you want?"
"Yes the weather is quite dreary, but I am doing well thank you. But yes let's get down to it. Alfie...are you familiar with gaming clubs?"
In your opinion, this meeting should have taken 30 minutes at most. But you were going on hour 3 at this point. 7 o'clock and you were growing tired. You know Eli had already gone home to tell your parents you were held up. This was becoming ridiculous.
The idea was interesting enough. Gaming clubs have been an up and coming social house for the high society. Men (and their women) would gather in clandestine areas, playing cards, placing bets, drinking, doing snow, all types of things. But the real trade was information. Yes their main products would be successful in such places, but the information that would be dripping from loose lips would bring more power than they could get now. More than they could get in decades.
The only thing they disagreed on was the split ownership. Alfie offered a 90/10 split. And when Tommy refused Alfie was quick to pull his gun. And maybe you should have been afraid, but frankly you were too irritated with Alfie to care, or to believe this petulant act he was putting up. Your pad was almost filled with doodles, crossed out numbers and terms when they finally shook on it, you would write up the agreement in the morning.
As Tommy stood to leave so did you, and when he took your hand to shake it, he raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a kiss and giving a wink. Your eyes widened at his boldness. He smirked at your response, turning to Alfie again, "Love the new secretary Alfie. Definitely brightens up the place."
He turned back to you and tipped his hat to you, "See you soon darling."
Tommy sauntered out of the door, and Alfie stayed standing until the door closed and he heard his steps fade. It was then that Alfie nearly collapsed into his chair, hands rubbing his face, "Treacle come here."
You came and sat right back in the chair Tommy Shelby just occupied, "You want me to reread the agreement to you?"
"Nah I trust you got it. Just write it up tomorrow. But listen to me yeah? You do not go near Thomas Shelby. I know the young girls tend to fancy him but listen to me... that man is evil. He is not safe. And I don't want you caught up in his nonsense."
"He's evil yet you're doing business with him."
"I'm a bad man darling, but that doesn't mean you need to get wrapped up in it. Just say that you won't fratrenize with him alright? Or do you need to fight with me about this as well?"
You nodded, "I understand."
You just stared at him, waiting for him to dismiss you when you heard his stomach growl again, and his face twitch in pain, hand rushing to his back. "Are you ready to admit defeat Alfie?"
He scowled at you, "I don't know what you're talking about. Go home it's late, you don't need to stay."
You smiled, "If it's already late no difference is made at this point. But I'm not about to let my boss go home hungry and in pain... or go home without saying I was right."
He puffed out his lip, "There's nothing to eat here anyway."
"I brought you lunch. Beef, roasted veg, and bread."
He looked at you quizzicaly before you said, "Eli told me that Ollie told him that you haven't been eating recently. I just took upon myself to bring you something. There's also a muffin, but you will have to share."
You heard him say something about mutiny, but then told you to go fetch the lunch you brought him. You only brought enough for one lunch for him, but he ended up insisting you share with him, since, "You haven't eaten supper. It's not right."
Eventually, once his stomach was warm with a good meal, you got him to let you tend to his back. "What are you going to do hmm? Give me a strange draught your grandmother taught you that will make me vomit for three days?"
You laughed brightly, and he couldn't help but smile and stare at the way you threw your head back and laughed loudly. Deep in his chest he hoped that you would let him make you laugh like that forever.
"No you ridiculous man. My father was in the war, and he got shot in the shoulder. He lived thankfully, but he feels a deep pain like you do. The muscle tightens and he can't move. We get a hot rag, place it on his shoulder, and my mother needs to work out the pain."
Alfie felt a flush on his neck, "Well that would require me to take my shirt off darling."
You rolled your eyes, "For a gangster you act like a child. I won't tell if you won't Alfie. Now will you cooperate?"
In truth you hadn't thought that far into it. But it was pitiful to see him like this, and you can definitely be professional about this. Alfie shrugged and pulled off his vest and shirt, and you couldn't help but feel the heat rise, and not just from the hot rag in your hand.
You knew he was imposing, it was hard not to see him and hear him. But seeing the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his body and the hair on his chest made your cheeks heat up and your face freeze. Alfie caught your stare, smirking, "Now who's acting like a child?"
You rolled your eyes, and placed the rag on his lower back, hearing him hiss and try to relax into the heat. You began to work the knots out of his back when he asked, "Do your roommates know where you are?"
"My roommates are my parents, Eli, his parents, my little sister, my younger brother, and our grandparents. And they know that I am at work, helping my boss finish a business meeting. Eli told them."
Alfie nodded, "Do they... know where you work?"
You smiled, "They know that my boss is a respectable jewish man, who owns a large bakery that employs many many men, and that I get my own desk."
He snorted, "So you lied to them?"
"Not lie. Just...reframed it for them. Shall I tell my mother that I am the secretary of the fearsome Alfred Solomons? Or should I tell my father that I directly disobeyed his orders to stay away from Solomons boys, and went directly to the top?"
He laughed, "Alright now alright... so why this office? Educated girl like you can't work anywhere else? Unlikely, seems like you like being rebellious to me."
"Well... if you can believe it Mr. Solomons... my back talk does not do me many favors. Truthfully... Eli brought me here because you were my last chance at independence. It was either your office, or I would have to visit the matchmaker."
A silence washed over you, and you began to worry that you shared too much. "Well... I like that you speak your mind. Even if it drives me fucking nuts. Never give it up darling. You stay just the way you are alright?"
You smiled softly to yourself, "Yes Alfie."
A comfortable silence took its' place, and you eventually were able to work out all the knots from his back. You began to pack up your bag, and as Alfie redressed himself he asked, "Is Eli coming to pick you up?"
"No I don't think so. He is probably having to help with the tailoring, and he won't be able to step away. I'll be ok."
"Fuck no. You're a woman, you don't walk alone at this time at night, especially not here. I'm taking you home."
"You don't think women are capable of taking care of themselves?"
"No I know you could hold your own darling, but it is cold and I am not about to let you get hurt on my watch. Come we'll take the car."
The drive to your house was comfortable. You couldn't understand it. You had only met Alfie yesterday. And yet you felt as though you had known him for years. As if you never knew life without him. The whole ride you talked. From business for tomorrow, his childhood, his dog, your interests and what your opinions were on the business. You laughed and spoke the entire time, and it felt like no time passed. The car pulled up right to your door, and Alfie walked to your door to open it for you and help you out, "Alright watch your step treacle, still wet from the rain yeah? There you go darling."
You took his hand, and your breath hitched at the contact, his warm and rough hand covering yours. You looked up into his eyes, face partially obscured by his hat, "Thank you Alfie. You didn't have to."
"Of course I did. And it was no trouble. If you are kept in the office till dark, I drive you home yeah?"
You nodded with a smile, and he shook his head in affirmation, "It's a deal then. Now get inside you little viper, you'll catch a cold."
You began to walk to the door, turning around to say, "Goodnight Alfie."
He smiled, "Goodnight darling."
As you walked up the stairs to the home of your family, you couldn't help but run through the day in your head. Especially the end of it, smiling to yourself and feeling the rush in your stomach. You opened the door as quietly as you could, but heard you mother say, "Who was that in the car dear?"
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marypaol · 3 months
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Unexpected Smile
Draco x Fem!Reader
Warnings: None that I’m mindful of :)
Summary: Reader likes Potions class, but dreads attending because of the Professor who teaches it. But that all ends when she is paired up with Draco to make a Potion.
Note: I don’t use Y/N, and this is kind of a long one. Long but worth it :)
Thing to Notice: I’m sorry if there isn’t enough talking between Reader and Draco, I just wanted to give the feel of Draco’s book personality. This is how I personally think he would react.
ALSO PLEASE SEND REQUESTS I’M RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS.
Masterlist
***
“I expect you to have this done by Friday. Class dismissed.”
Snape’s voice grumbled for the last time that day before the noise of his demands were replaced with chairs squeaking and bags closing. The girl herself got up, putting her ink and quill into the bag she carried before she left the classroom, wanting to leave the boring and brain frying class behind. She didn’t dislike Potions, she was quite fond of the class, rather if she didn’t have that particular Professor she would like the experience of mixing unordinary things in a cauldron much better. She couldn’t quite figure out what it was about the certain teacher at Hogwarts the made her dislike him, but she did know that his favor towards the Slytherins (coming from a Slytherin herself) wasn’t truly fair in her opinion. She of course didn’t speak of this, for Slytherins shouldn’t be compassionate according to her mother but in little moments like that she couldn’t help but do so.
It wasn’t until a certain day in Potions that she happened to take an excessive liking to the class along with the Professor; for this was a rare occurrence. It was for the reason of being in pairs for that lesson, her partner being someone that was known as the biggest snob in the history of snobs. He was so full of himself, making no such effort to make himself known as Malfoy’s son. But what was said about him didn’t effect her opinion on the boy, for she thought that since he tried so hard to give people the impression that his family was picture perfect he must have something more real beneath the surface. The surface which he tried to keep iced but ice melted is water every time. She personally thought there wasn’t a reason to not do that, since everyone had something they didn’t want everyone around them to know. Even her, for she didn’t want everyone to know how bad her anxiety got when it was about either schoolwork or just nothing. She couldn’t help her hands shaking and her lungs running out of air but no one could know that. No one will know that. So she would understand when someone wouldn’t want to open up to her, or someone else in general when it comes to what they are going through.
But at the moment when her and Draco’s name left Snape’s lips, and he reluctantly got up from his seat to join the usually empty seat beside her, she wanted nothing more than him to tell her every insecurity he ever had; past or present. Every problem on his mind about anything at all.
But of course it was foolish and silly to think that, for she knew that she was someone he wouldn’t ever think about talking to since they’ve never encountered before this moment.
So when the boy sat down beside her she smiled softly, giving him the gentlest welcome she could master, only to get a quiet snarl in response; she shrugged it off quickly though, despite the ever so soft sting in her chest.
After the what felt like year lasting instructions were spoken students started shuffling around, getting the best looking ingredients out of the supply that was there.
The girl was surprised when she saw that Draco had already gotten the things, separating the supplies accordingly into groups.
After a few seconds she wasn’t that surprised as she once, because she figured he got up when she wasn’t looking or did so before everyone else did to get first dibs; or just magic was simply the answer. Either way she didn’t mind as Draco handed her the feathers, signaling her to separate and chop them.
__
“How do you know to do that?”
The voice was sharp and demanding, interrupting her current task at hand. She looked up at Draco, his face displaying curiosity and what looked like annoyance.
“To dice not chop.” He questioned, nodding to the diced mint leaves that were carefully cut on the cutting board in front of her. She found herself sinking down, a feeling of embarrassment settling in her chest as his eyes continued to linger on her.
“Well leaves are mostly diced when being put in a Potion; it helps the scent release and the effects to happen more quickly.” She explained, feeling her cheeks heat up as his eyes scanned her face, studying her like an open book he was taking notes on before a big exam. The silver eyes on her greatly impacted her, a fact she quickly noticed and wasn’t embarrassed to admit to herself.
He finally seemed to stop examining her, eyes showing a spark of interest.
“Oh.” He said shortly. “I will keep that in mind I suppose.”
If anyone else in the grounds of Hogwarts were to be told that by Draco Malfoy himself, they would be given the impression of mocking and annoyance, but she dug deeper and found appreciation and thanksgiving for the quick tip of the subject she knew he loved. She’s always noticed how Draco was good at Potions, always knowing reactions and understanding directions in the book easier than others. And that, right there, was one of the many reasons why she wanted to see the water surface and not the iced.
She made sure to smile soft, picking up the cutting board and scraping the diced leaves into the cauldron as he mixed counterclockwise slowly with the wooden spoon. What she did take notice of was not only did the liquid inside start to bubble and change color, but the normally straight-line formed lips stretched into a soft smile in exchange.
:)
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danikamariewrites · 4 months
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❈ ❈ Holiday Traditions ❈ ❈
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A/n: I'm so happy I got to participate in the @acotargiftexchange this year! I had so much fun coming up with what Nesta and Cassian do to prepare hosting their first christams for @moodymelanist . I also saw it’s her birthday today! So show her some love and check out her fics they are amazing🤗
I hope you like it❤️ happy birthday Merry Christmas love!
warnings: none, just pure Christmas cheer 🥰
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
Nesta plopped the last box of ornaments on the coffee table with an accomplished sigh. She had successfully brought down all of the boxes by herself from the attic. Cassian was going to help but she grew impatient waiting for him to come home from shopping. It was the last thing they had to do and Nesta was too excited to wait. So she chugged her morning coffee and braved the attic ladder for the spirit of Christmas.  
This was Nyx’s first Christams so everything had to be perfect for her little nephew. Looking around the living room Nesta smiled to herself. The mantle–which currently housed a roaring fire– was beautifully decorated with fir branches, colorful winter candyland baubles, twinkling lights, and two large bows at either end. Their usual soft throw pillows on the couches have been changed out for candy cane pillows and blankets with snowflakes and snowmen. 
The only thing left to decorate was the tree. Nesta started opening all the plastic boxes when the front door opened, Cassian’s cheery voice ringing through their warm home. When he appeared in the living room bags of different sizes decorated his arms, a large grin on his face. “Hey baby, I thought I was going to help you with those?” Nesta returned his smile unwrapping the book stack ornament Cassian got her last year. “I could’t wait. Did you get the stuff for our mega gingerbread house?” 
Cassian chuckled and held up a bag from their favorite bakery. “Oh yeah. Let me put this stuff away and we’ll decorate.” Nesta smiled at his retreating back. She couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world. As a child her and her sisters never had a good holiday experience thanks to their parents. Their mother’s focus was throwing the best parties for Christmas and New Years. Always neglecting to get the girls presents or doing any holiday activities with them. 
When Feyre and Rhysand found each other that’s when the new holiday traditions started. The first time they all spent Christmas together Nesta was drawn to Cassian and the love he had for the holiday. He made sure she and Elain felt welcome, the brothers even made sure they had a few gifts to open. Ever since that day Cassian and Nesta were inseperable. 
Cassian laid out the gingerbread pieces on the island along with the icing and candy toppings. He swiped two candy canes for him and Nes before sorting gifts that could be wrapped today and ones that he’d wrap tonight when Nesta was fast asleep. Gathering the gifts, wrapping paper, tape, and scissors he headed back to the living room. 
Nesta was half done unwrapping the ornaments, humming along to the Christmas playlist lightly playing from the speaker. Cassian never knew why she insisted on throwing Justin Bieber’s Christmas album into the mix of songs but he went with it. He would never tell Nesta that he enjoyed it. Cassian would never hear the end of it from her or his brothers. Dumping the gift supplies on the couch Cassian started picking up ornaments, choosing which ones he wanted to hang on the tree first. 
As the hours passed Cassian and Nesta were giggling as they reminisced about the joke ornaments they had bought each other over the years. Cassian found a Santa hat in one of the decoration boxes and decided it was his, even though Nesta fought him for it. Her consolation prize was silver tinsel Cassian wrapped around her like a scarf. 
Once the tree was done, Cassian and Nesta stood back wrapped in each other’s arms. Cassian kissed her tinsel covered head and looked down at his girlfriend with deep adoration. She looks so beautiful with the colorful Christmas lights reflecting in her blue-gray eyes. Images of their future together ran through his mind. A few more holidays by themselves and one day, maybe, a set of twin girls with his hair and her features running around. They’re in matching Christmas PJ’s trying to sneak a peak at the gifts they spent hours wrapping after bedtime before being caught by mom and dad.  
Breaking him from his thoughts Nesta bumped her hip against his. “Alright you,” she said cooly, “Lets get to wrapping.” 
Getting settled on the floor Cassian started rolling out wrapping paper. Nesta turned on the TV immediately changing the channel. When Nesta saw Rudolph was on she let out a happy hum, watching with a childlike wonder Cassian rarely saw from her. They noticed most of the gifts are for Nyx. Yeah he’s only a few months old, but Cassian and Nesta wanted his first Christmas to be special. Since they were hosting, the pair wanted their nephew to be the center of attention.   
Moving to the kitchen Cassian put the kettle on for hot cocoa as Nesta took a seat at the island and began unwrapping the toppings, throwing a few gumdrops in her mouth. “Hey,” she said to get Cassian’s attention. He turned to see Nesta cocking her arm back, gumdrop between her fingers, nodding at him with a determined smile. Cassian smirks, opening his mouth wide, leaning his head back a little. Nesta launches it in a short arch landing right on Cassian’s tongue. They both raise their arms in victory letting out a twin ‘woo’.  
Mega gingerbread house had to look perfect this year since it would be the center piece of the mantel. So this year they actually tried to not make it a disaster that would collapse just so they could eat it. Once it was a sugary monstrosity Nyx was sure to grab at, the pair carefully transported mega gingerbread house to its pedestal. It was quite impressive. The house looked like it belonged on a mountain top, Nesta guessed it kind of was thanks to where it was placed.   
Looking at his watch Cassian grimaced, noting it was much later than he thought. 
Getting settled in bed Cass watched his show on his iPad while Nesta read Christmas book seven of the twelve he got her. She hated being behind on her twelve days of Christmas reads. This one was about a long distance couple finally meeting for a magically holiday in the city. 
An hour passed before Cassian heard Nes slightly snoring. He smiled to himself as he softly kisses her forehead, silently slipping out from under the covers. Two years ago Cass caught Nesta snooping through her gift pile during the day so he made the decision to wrap in the middle of the night.
Sorting through the gifts in the living room Cassian couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. This year’s haul for Nesta was perfect if he did say so himself. He even got her special wrapping paper with little books on it. 
After an hour of wrapping gifts Cassian crept back upstairs. There was one more thing he had to check on before he went to sleep. Tiptoeing as best he could to the closet he slipped inside. Using the flash light on his phone so he wouldn’t wake Nesta he quietly opened his shirt drawer, digging out the smal black velvet box.   
Checking on the ring he knew was tucked away in the perfect hiding spot Cassian grined. Everytime Cass looked at the engagement ring his heart pounded with excitement. It took all of his self restraint to not propose to Nesta everyday. No, he would wait and make this the best Christmas, better than the one they first met. He’ll never forget the surprised face Nesta made when he handed her that first gift. Cassian smiled thinking about the surprise that will grace Nesta’s beautiful face in just two days. 
Two more days and they’ll have a life time of happy holidays together.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
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apocalypse
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words: 300
warnings: violence, alien invasion lol, mentions of death including parental death
you stomp out your fire before kicking leaves over it, not wanting to leave any trace. you grab your pack off the ground, grunting quietly as you sling it over your shoulder. it’s so fucking heavy, but everything in it is precious. every thing is precious, ever since they came, all material goods are precious. you try not to think about it, especially since it’s been almost a month since you saw the last thing. 
you’re not sure if there’s a technical name for them. they’re so beyond anything you know, anything earthly, that giving any name to them seems wrong. aliens, you suppose. they did come from the sky. large creatures, monsters, that ran on four legs, teeth as sharp knives, bodies moving in an almost mechanical way. they had their weaknesses, and you have found the best way to exploit that. they’ve got terrible senses. sight, hearing, smell, all of it is shit. they’re easy enough to avoid, but deadly when they get close enough. the main issue was the sheer number of them.
just keep your distance, you remind yourself. it’s why you’re out in the woods. you hope they’ll keep to the cities. it would make sense. you thought at first when they came that you’d be safe. they wouldn’t even get onto your island, and you were right, for a while. life in the outer banks wasn’t normal though, even as they began to attack only the big cities. everyone knew they would spread quickly, and chaos started before they even moved out of new york city.
you swallow hard, trying not to think about what happened. you think of your family. kooks. fucking kooks. they went crazy, acting like an alien invasion meant it was the purge. your family owned a grocery store, a small one that had been in the family for generations. it meant you had supplies, but it also made you a target. you force the thought out of your mind, but you still see it every time you close your eyes, the blood and bodies littering the store. you left that day, not even taking a single thing with you, just needing to be gone. they came the next day. you watched from high ground as they tore through the town, only reacting to the loudest screams and most movement. you studied them, committing as much as you could to memory, before turning your back to that world. it was over then.
it’s been almost an entire year now. you’ve considered going back. you’ve never gone far from the outer banks, but you’ve also never stopped moving. you know you’re going in slow circles, but you can’t bring yourself to do anything different, and you don’t need to yet. there’s plenty of food in this area, and the winters don’t deplete your resources as much like they would if you headed north. and south is just ocean, something you don’t want to see. too many memories. the sound of your sister laughing as she jumped in the waves, of your mother laying on the beach, whatever book she’s currently reading in her hand. 
you curse yourself for getting lost in your memories as you hear a twig snap. you quickly move to a tree to climb, trying to keep your movements light. the biggest risk wasn’t even the monsters, just like before in kildare, it was other people. other people killed your family and you are not going to let yourself fall to the same fate. you’d rather stare down the aliens teeth than let another human take you out. it was all just so wrong and messy.
your breath catches when the man creeping through the trees is familiar. his hair is longer now, falling over his forehead in dark blonde strands. you are moving before you can think over the consequences. you were never friends, theres no saying how he’ll welcome you, but he’s someone. someone you know. “rafe.” it feels weird to speak. you haven’t done it in weeks.
his head snaps up at his name, eyes almost bulging out of his head when he realizes who is standing in front of him. “y/n?” he asks, relief spreading over his features. you nod and smile. you’re not sure why you do it, but you get closer. rafe steps in as well, pulling you into a hug. it’s awkward with the amount of gear you’ve both got, but you don’t care, it’s human contact, it’s good human contact.
“you’re alive.” you state the obvious, and rafe nods. “would never let those fuckers take me out.”
you should have known rafe was too strong willed to die. he’s tough, but he’s more than that, he’s too stubborn to let an alien take him out. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had killed a few himself. to still be alive you practically had to.
“what are you doing here? wheres your base?” you ask. theres no way he’s been in this area long, you couldn’t have been missing him this whole time.
“i’m on the move, actually.” rafe says, clearing his throat. “retaking tanneyhill.”
you smile at that, and the action makes your cheeks hurt. you can’t remember the last time you’ve made that expression. “you and what army?” 
rafe shrugs, also grinning. “it’s my home. not going to let anyone drive me out.”
“that’s… brave.” you say honestly. all of the tension is gone from the times before they came. it was always kooks vs pogues, but now, there were just pogues. rafes status was the same as yours. there was nothing for you to be afraid or apprehensive of anymore. 
“come with me.” rafe says. you take a step back. back to outer banks. the thought rolls through your head. “at least to the edge of town.” 
you nod, not able to find words. it’s getting dark anyways, so you need to make camp soon. you’ll sleep on it and reevaluate in the morning when you don’t have the excitement of finally having another friendly human around you again.
“i’ve been sleeping in a nearby cave the past couple nights.” you tell rafe, making sure to keep your voice hushed. “there’s room for two.”
“sure beats just sleeping under the stars knowing i could get my head bit off at any minute.” it’s an attempt at a joke, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh, or even smile. it wasn’t so long ago that you woke up to a huffing sound, sitting up to realize one of those… things was almost on top of you. you grabbed the blade you keep under your pillow and ended it, only because it hadn’t yet realized you were there. you know you wouldn’t get so lucky next time.
you’re quiet the rest of the walk, rafe following in your footsteps quietly. you know exactly where to walk to keep your steps near silent. you get to the cave, pulling the branches out of the way that mask it’s entrance. it’s a tight squeeze to get in. you have to take your pack off and set it inside first. rafe does the same, eyebrows rising as he takes in how large the cave really is, looking up to see the ceiling is a few feet over his head. there’s a few openings in it, letting in the dying sunlight.
it’s an amazing find, really lucky, which is why you’ve stayed in this once place for so long. and just when you began itching to get moving again, here is rafe, presenting you with an opportunity. 
rafe begins to unpack, getting his bedroll out and setting it near yours. it’s the only even spot in the flooring, but your cheeks still heat at the thought of sleeping so close to him.
“here, i have some berries stocked up.” you grab the jar off the floor, opening it and shaking a few into rafes extended hand.
you don’t talk much as you eat. as soon as you stop moving, exhaustion takes over you. you’re thankful that you get so tired, knowing laying down and letting your thoughts run free is not something you want to do. you lay down after you eat, rafe joining you. 
“thanks.” he whispers, noticing that just a bit of moonlight is illuminating the cave.
“no problem.” you say, turning on your side to face him. “i’m glad you’re alive.” if you would have thought about rafe yesterday you would have said you didn’t care if he was alive or dead, but it’s different having him here, right next to you.
“i’m glad you’re alive too.” rafe says, reaching out and squeezing your hand. you squeeze back, palm tingling, and you’re not sure if it’s because of rafe, or because it’s human contact. your eyes flutter closed and you fall asleep like that, hands together.
but it’s not how you wake up. you’re so warm, heat pressing against your front. you blink your eyes opening, realizing that at some point in the night you’ve abandoned your sleeping bag and have joined rafe on his bedroll. you go to move away, but rafes arm is trapping you. he lets out a grumble in his sleep at your attempting to move, squeezing you even tighter to him.
you wait for the blush to subside before you tap rafe. “wake up.” you say softly, unable to resist the urge to stroke your thumb over his cheek. rafes eyes flutter open as you pull your hand away.
“sorry.” rafe mumbles, removing his hand from your back to rub over his face. you don’t speak as you roll away, not telling rafe where you’re going as you head out of the cave to get a breath of fresh air as well as do your business. you’re about to remove the brush to get back inside when you hear a chuffing noise. you know exactly what it is, but you wait until the thing comes into view to confirm it, and you’re glad you wait, because it’s not one, but three.
you rush inside the cave, grabbing your blade. “three of them.” is all you say to rafe to get him moving. the entrance isn’t big enough for them to get in, so you work on packing up in case you need to make a quick move. rafe peaks out the entrance, letting out a quiet curse.
“as soon as they’re gone, we’ve got to move.” you whisper. rafe nods, getting his stuff ready as well. you may be safe in this cave, but you’ve only got a couple berries left, and your water bottle is almost empty. as much as you like this location, it’s time to move, because if three are around, theres bound to be more. they’re not pack animals per say, but they tend to stay in groups when they are on move.
you wait hours, sitting there silently, until the sun is high in the sky. you know you have to use it to your advantage, so you share the rest of the berries with rafe and set off, keeping your head on a swivel. you head towards the outer banks, rafe by your side. you want to tell him again, how thankful you are that he’s alive, but you don’t know how long you’ll be able to stick by his side, no matter how bad you want to.
you spend the whole day walking, and you know that you’re only a few more hours from getting where you want to be, but you convince rafe to stop and set up a small camp. it’s not safe to continue at night, especially with the leaves still on the trees, not letting enough light to the forest floor.
you set up your bedrolls side to side, and again wake up in the morning with your limbs tangled together, this time rafe moving towards you. you close your eyes and let yourself enjoy the warm embrace as the sun rises, sending a warm orange glow over everything. rafe wakes up a few minutes later, squeezing you tightly before getting up. you don’t speak about it as you start to walk again.
you stop by a clean looking river and get some drinking water, both filling up your bottles, knowing you’ll have to boil it later but don’t want to stop. time seems to fly, and before you know it you’re walking down the street of the one place you swore you wouldn’t come back. thankfully, rafes house is nowhere near your familys shop, yet you still feel the tug.
“the fence is still intact.” rafe notes as you approach. he swings the gate open, eyes sweeping over the yard. a lot of the houses have damage, but he’s right, everything looks like it’s still in good shape. you suppose it’s a testament to the older houses being built better, after all this house has gone through hundreds of tropical storms or hurricanes. 
“lets do a quick sweep before we get too excited.” you tell rafe. he gives a curt nod, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes. you stick together, going through every room in the lower floor before heading up the stairs. it’s obviously picked through, but a lot of the important things remain untouched. you want to cry at the fact that there’s still mattresses on the beds. it’s been so long since you’ve slept properly on a bed.
you’re about to head downstairs when you hear nails scratching against the hardwood. your eyes widen and briefly meet rafes before you both look over the railing, realizing one of the aliens must have snuck in after you, and was now heading right towards the stairs.
“rafe.” you whisper-scream. 
“get in the bedroom. close the door.” rafe says, shoving you away.
“no, what?” you protest, knowing you can help.
“please, y/n, i lost… everyone.” his voice breaks, eyes shining. “i can’t lose you too, not when i just got you.”
you frown at his words, but nod, heading towards the bedroom and closing the door. you take your pack off, grabbing your blade. the second you hear rafe in any sort of trouble you’re coming out. 
you hear a commotion, but can’t make much out, until you hear rafe mutter a curse. you throw open the door, seeing rafe clutching his arm, but the monster there on the ground, dead.
“rafe!” you rush to him. “into the bathroom, quickly.” you say, hoping to find some sort of towel to wrap around the wound, maybe if you’re lucky something to stave off infection.
“hey.” rafe stops. “we have to go shut the gate first.” 
you shake your head no. “you’re bleeding, we take care of you first then we can do whatever else.” rafe sighs, but nods, letting you lead him into the spacious bathroom, but it feels small when you close the door behind you. it’s been almost a year since you’ve been inside a house, and its near suffocating being trapped. you quickly scrounge through the cabinets, shocked to find so much stuff. you realize the camerons probably stayed as long as they could, meaning most of the looting was done by the time the house was vacant.
you find some hydrogen peroxide and a hand towel, deciding it will work for now. you turn back to rafe, who has now taken his shirt off. your breath catches in your throat, noting not just his defined muscles but also the various scars littered along his torso. some were clearly deep, other little scratches, maybe from a thorn.
you shake the fuzzy feeling out of your head and squirt a little bit of the peroxide onto a towel, not wanting to waste such a precious resource. you press it to the wound, and rafe doesn’t even flinch at the sting. as you clean it up, you realize it’s not bad at all. rafe would likely recover quickly, especially now that you can control any potential infection somewhat.
you rip the sleeve off his shirt. it’s no good anymore anyways, and tighten it around his wound.
“you make a good nurse.” rafe says, admiring your quick and efficient work. 
“no formal training, but i did watch greys anatomy before.” you laugh, the sound echoing around you. 
rafe smiles at you, tucking a strand of hair out of your face. “stay with me?” rafe asks, reaching down to squeeze your hand. “we can fortify this place. put wiring along the top of the fence. plant, make a whole garden. fish for our food. we can live as comfortably as possible, together.”
you nod before you can stop yourself. you honestly can’t think of anything better than feeling safe. 
the first couple months are just hard work. you use the prebuilt wall along the property to make it a safe haven against the aliens, even going as far to set some traps. 
you eventually settle into a routine. rafe does most of the fishing, you do all of the gardening, and then you fall asleep in the same bed every night. it becomes comfortable. you have sightings of the monsters, but only a couple pose any threat, and you’re always able to retreat back into tanneyhill until they leave the town. you don’t see any other people, probably because no one wants to be trapped on an island, potentially stranded.
you decide to head into town, rafe has been pushing you that it would be smart to check for supplies, and he’s right, but your families shop is in town and you don’t know how you’ll cope seeing it, but you eventually agree you do need to reup your supplies, especially clean, unripped clothing. 
rafe takes a gun he found still in the safe at tanneyhill as you walk together down the street. it feels freeing to be out without a pack, knowing that you have someplace safe to return to. 
you follow rafe, until you get there, and your steps falter. rafe notices immediately as you turn to face the place you grew up in, running down the aisles with your sister, being scolded by your father when you bump the shelves and knock merchandise off. part of you wants to go inside, be surrounded by those memories, but you know what else lies inside those doors.
“hey, what’s wrong?” rafes voice sounds far away, even as hes right next to you.
you sink to your knees, unable to even stand, tears flowing down your face. rafe follows you to the ground, hand cupping your face, other arm pulling you into him.
“hey, hey, i got you.” rafe says, kissing your head. “i got you. it’s okay.”
he lets you cry until theres nothing left in you. the year of pent up emotions, holding everything in because you had no choice. there was no time for breakdowns in the constant struggle to survive, but rafe has helped give you safety, and in that, freedom.
“thank you.” you look up at him, knowing you would still be out there in those woods if it wasn’t for him. you lean in, pressing your lips against rafes. he hesitates for a moment and then returns the kiss, pulling you somehow even closer into him. 
“thank you.” rafe presses his forehead against yours. “i was lost before we found each other.” he pecks a kiss to your lips. “you saved me in ways you don’t even know. i wasn’t coming back to outer banks to retake tanneyhill, i was coming back to give up.” rafe admits.
you can’t help the gasp that you let out. rafe giving up? he must have been in a truly terrible place. you imagine seeing his entire family killed did that to him. you know exactly what it’s like.
“i love you.” you tell rafe, needing him to hear the words you’ve been holding back for almost a month now. 
“i love you.” rafe kisses you deeply again. “i love you.”
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djarinslover · 7 months
Text
The Story Of Us
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Here is the ask where this fic was born. Thank you to my sweet patient anon, you're the best. I hope I did your idea justice!
Pairing; Nami x Fem!Reader (no y/n, sliiight description of reader being shorter)
Warnings; canon violence, TW for queer being used as a slur, swearing
Word Count; 1.8k
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You and Nami had been childhood friends, the two of you playing at the edge of the tangerine grove, making tangerine windmills with Nojiko and their mother. Unfortunately, everything changed when the pirates raided and killed Belle. Nami traded her freedom to Arlong, though that was something you didn't learn for a while. Once, when Nami came to collect the Berry the village owed Arlong, the two of you met each other's eyes and it seemed that sparks flew. It had been about six years since you truly saw her and she had grown into a beautiful young woman. She had the same thought about you.
The two of you danced around the feelings you had developed for some time before you made the first move and confessed. It was awkward and hurried but you were determined to let her know. You felt elated when Nami confessed she felt the same way, that she had a slight crush on you as kids. She never thought she would be able to have a chance with you.
But ever since you started dating Nami, all the people of Coco Village shunned you. You ended up keeping to yourself in your small corner of the village. They hated you because you were dating someone apart of Arlong's crew, Nami no less, who they believed betrayed them as well. After Nami had finally told you the truth, she swore you to secrecy. The townspeople wouldn't understand and she didn't need them possibly getting their hopes up and alerting the other fishmen to her plan. You ignored what the people had to say about you two - you were happy and in love with Nami. You didn't need anyone else.
Nami brought you all the supplies you would need whenever she came back home after her journeys. She didn't want you to have to deal with any harassment or ridicule the town would give you if you tried to go buy food or clothing. When Nami did come home, they would stare, glare and whisper about you two under their breath. Nami always glared back, making the cowards turn their gazes away in shame or embarrassment. You never knew which it was they were feeling but it didn't matter when you had your girlfriend back in your arms.
Having her in your arms at all times wasn't as often as you wanted, though. You weren't allowed to stay with her at 'Arlong Park', which honestly was fine with both of you. You weren't comfortable around all those pirates and Nami loved the privacy you two got when she stayed at your home. You just wished she could live with you, so you could say "our home". Someday soon, she promised, a kiss pressed so softly, so sweetly against your lips.
There were times you went to 'Arlong Park' to spend time with Nami though, like today. She was headed out the next morning on her next journey and Arlong wasn't letting her wander around. So he sent one of his men to bring you there. Nami had demanded to see you before she left and the pirate knew better by now than to deny her the privilege of being with you.
Nami was playing poker with the men, clearly winning. You stand to the side to not draw unwanted attention to yourself until she was done with the game. You never wanted to distract your beautiful girlfriend when she was focused. She shoved all her chips to the middle, as stone-faced as she could be. "I'm all in, boys."
Some of the fishmen grumble as they throw their cards down, giving up. One fishman was staring her down before throwing the rest of his chips into the pile as well. He set his cards down with a flourish and a wide grin. "Beat that, human."
There's a fake pout on Nami's lips. You knew what that fake pout meant - she tried to use it on you all the time when you wouldn't give her what she wanted. It usually worked. "Read 'em and weep." She lays down her four queens gently before standing, scooping up her winnings.
"Nami, that was so good!" you cry out, heading to your partner and throwing your arms around her waist.
"Hey, babe! I did it to show off," she says with a wink, arms wrapping around you tightly.
"Fucking queers," the fishman who lost grumbles.
You freeze, feeling fear grip your throat at his words. You feel Nami stiffen under your embrace, her hands shaking on your back. She gently shoves you away, head cocked to the side as she looks at the man who spoke.
"What was that?" she asks in a low, dangerous tone.
"I said, fucking queers," the fishman spits, a snarl on his lips.
Nami purses her lips as she nods, a hand rummaging around in her bag. She pulls out a knife and spins it around. "I'll give you a chance to take it back and apologize."
"Ha! You wish, princess."
"Your choice," Nami says with a frown.
She spins the knife again before stabbing the pirate in the hand, making him scream out. The others stand around, some laughing while others look on worriedly. You back away into a corner, trying to disappear back to your cozy little home. Nami towers over the pirate who name called you, watching with cold eyes as he squirms. She twists the knife in his hand.
"Well? Still want to call my girlfriend a name?"
He shakes his head, tears rolling down his face. "N-n-no. I-I'm sorry. Please, it hurts."
"Yeah, I bet it does. So does calling people fucking slurs."
He whimpers, whole body shaking with fear? Anger? You were unsure, only aware of your own body shaking with anxiety. Nami looks back at you, eyes softening briefly before she whips her head back around to stare the pirate down. She twists the knife one more time. "Apologize to my girlfriend. Now."
He raises his head to meet your gaze, lips trembling. "I'm- I'm sorry, okay. Please . . . call her off."
Nami pulls her weapon from his hand, wiping it clean with his shirt. "Get out of my sight."
He scrambles to the others standing to the side, letting them support him as they make their way further inside 'Arlong Park'. Nami comes to your side, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. She takes your hand in hers, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. "Come on."
You trail behind Nami to her room; technically it was the map room where she was held captive for the first few years she spent with Arlong. You hated the room simply because it was where Nami felt powerless for far too long. The chain that had been around her ankle was still sitting on the floor. You thought it was a reminder to her that Arlong controlled her, no matter what she thought or what he let her do. She would always have to go back to him.
Nami spins around to face you, noticing how quiet you are. She squeezes your hand, pulling you closer to her. She leads you to the edge of the bed, pushing you down softly by the shoulder. "What's wrong, my love?"
You shake your head with tears burning, threatening to spill over the second you spoke. She kneels in front of you, her hand caressing your cheek. Somehow, even on her knees, it felt like she was taller than you. Maybe you just felt extra small due to what happened outside. You swallow thickly, forcing yourself to speak. "I just . . . hate what he called you, called us. I get it enough from some villagers but to hear it from a pirate hurt ten times worse. I'm not sure why, considering I don't even have to live around them."
"Because pirates are assholes. No one wants to have to deal with them, let alone deal with a slur being hurled at them. He was out of line and you let me know if he ever bothers you again. Hell, if he even looks at you, I want to know. Okay?"
"Nami, why are you still with them? Run away with me, we can find a little unoccupied island and make it our own," you plead. "I don't think I can keep waiting here for you for weeks on end. It kills me that I never know if you're okay until you come back. I don't feel safe, with the way people treat us simply because we're both women dating."
"My love," she sighs, cupping your face in both hands. "You know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I want this whole village to free. That especially includes you." She takes in your expression, eyes wide and roaming. "I would love to run away with you, say 'fuck you' to Arlong and just be with you. But we both know he would hunt us down and hurt you just to get back at me. I won't let that happen."
You wipe away your tears roughly, sniffling. "I know. He'd never let us just walk away. God, I hate this. I hate him."
"I know," Nami says. "I hate him, too. But I just need a little more and then we'll all be free from him, I promise. Can you wait a little bit longer?"
"For you, I'll wait forever."
Nami giggles, pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry he upset you, baby. What can I do to make you feel better?"
"I could use some cuddling."
"Sounds perfect."
She climbs into bed with you, adjusting so she's the big spoon, her longer legs entwined with yours. She has an arm under your head while the other was over your body, tracing patterns absentmindedly on your stomach. Her touch lulls you back into a comfortable state, wiping your mind clean of the nasty word you had been called. She had a way of making you feel like nothing could ever be wrong.
"You know," Nami says after the two of you had been sitting in silence for a while. "One day, there's going to be a story of us."
You frown, confused as to what she means. You roll over to meet her eyes, eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, the story of us. It's going to be an epic one we'll get to tell people one day. The story of how we defeated the dreaded fishman pirate Arlong and saved a village."
You giggle, sweeping her hair out of her eyes. "That sounds like some story."
"It's going to be badass. And I'm going to have you right by my side for all of it."
"I can't wait."
You snuggle deeper into her arms, feeling warm, safe and content. She was your safe place and you wouldn't trade all the trouble and hardship you go through for a thing. You would climb the highest mountain to be able to say Nami was yours. The story of us sounds pretty damn good, you think as you drift off to sleep.
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skyloftian-nutcase · 6 months
Text
From the Shadows (pre-LU whump)
@nancyheart11
Summary: Twilight encounters a black blooded beast for the first time. It doesn't go well.
(AO3 link)
It was a bitterly cold evening. The coming of winter brought winds from the northwest, and though it probably wasn't excessively frigid, Rusl was still accustomed to the warm summer. The home carried a damp chill, and the blacksmith found himself huddling by the fire after a hard day's work. Hana sat on his lap, babbling happily while playing with her toys, while Colin helped his mother cook dinner. The dull light that could pierce through the clouds was steadily fading as the hidden sun slowly set beneath the horizon.
Rusl hummed absentmindedly, though he couldn't quite maintain a tune, but his daughter didn't seem to mind. His mind drifted passively from thought to thought, settling on wondering what Uli might be whipping up in the kitchen, when there was some sort of ruckus outside. Cuccoos were squawking, a horse was whinnying very loudly - what was going on?
Rising, Rusl told Hana to go to her mother just as he and Colin headed for the door together. The cold slammed their faces as Colin got there first, and Rusl felt his blood freeze with it.
Epona was running amok in the village, panicked. She was fully saddled and bridled as if Link had been out riding, but now there was no Link to be found while his steed was in a frenzy.
Ilia, who had also come out due to the commotion, rushed to the horse first. Many of the villagers peered out through cracked doors, anxious and curious. Colin got to Epona next while Rusl looked around for any sign of his ward.
"Sshh, it's okay," Ilia hushed gently, petting Epona's head while she stomped in place nervously.
"Where's Link?" Colin asked worriedly.
"I... I don't know," Ilia answered. "I didn't even know he'd left the village."
Rusl eyed the steed sharply, looking for clues while worry curled in his gut and clenched at his heart. It wasn't a promising sign for Link's horse to be in such a state. The animal was unharmed, but he saw traces of clues: a small branch caught in the saddle, a half open satchel of supplies partially used.
Link had been exploring, or fighting, and something had gone wrong.
The resistance member reentered the house, brushing by a worried Uli and grabbing his sword and shield. He layered up clothes and some armor while Uli approached him.
"Rusl?" she didn't have to ask what was wrong. Her tone and eyes asked everything she needed to.
"I don't know what happened," Rusl answered. "But something's wrong with Link. I'm going to find him."
Uli swallowed, hands wringing anxiously as she looked back outside. "Please, be careful."
Rusl paused, watching his wife a moment. She never argued his choices to leave for missions or operations, but he knew how much it weighed on her. She wanted to make sure Link was well too, but he could sense her fear at the sudden shift in mood, at the hasty decision to drop everything and enter an unknown peril. He cupped her cheek, guiding her eyes to his. "I will be. I promise."
Uli smiled a little, leaning into his touch, before stepping away so he could finish. Rusl headed outside to see Colin armed with a sword and a cloak.
"Colin," he started, but his son cut him off.
"I've been training," Colin immediately argued. "I'm coming too."
Rusl bit back a sigh. His boy had always been eager to help ever since the Twilight incident, and adolescence had only added defiance to eagerness, making it all the harder to keep him safe. There was little time to argue, and... the boy wasn't wrong. His sword skills were quite good.
It didn't make his father feel much better about the situation. He already had one son in danger. He wasn't keen on putting another one in the same circumstances.
"Colin--"
"Every minute we spend arguing, Link could be dying!" Colin interrupted.
The teenager wasn't wrong, but Rusl still felt uneasy. "Fine. But you ride Epona, and the second I tell you to get out, you listen. Understood?"
Colin swallowed, paused, and then nodded. Rusl felt a little at ease with that - his boy was honest, and thankfully had inherited a bit more of his mother's reason than his father's stubbornness. Although he had certainly done some foolish, harebrained things, he would listen to his father.
Rusl grabbed his own horse and the pair headed towards Faron Woods with well wishes at their backs from the villagers. He reached out, letting his hand rest gently on Epona's head. "You'll have to guide us, girl."
Colin pat Epona's neck, urging her forward. At first the steed was obedient, but the farther into the woods they went, the more nervous and hesitant she became. That meant whatever had caused the initial scare had to be close. Despite already being on alert, he tensed even more, eyes searching for clues.
He didn't have to search for long. The earth was scarred, claw marks and chunks of dirt thrown like lacerations in the skin of the land itself. The birds were silent. Epona nickered, taking a step back. The oncoming darkness of night gave the trees sinister silhouettes. Rusl and Colin's warm breaths hovered in the chilly air, the only apparent sign of life around them.
"I've never seen the forest so still," Colin commented quietly, a slight tremor to his tone. He reached hesitantly for his sword.
Rusl's own mount began to grow nervous, ears peeling back, hooves playing uneasily with the earth. The air felt distinctly colder. The swordsman drew his blade, and his son followed suit.
"Let's keep moving," he said, guiding his steed forward with a tap of his heels.
Eventually it grew so dark that Rusl was squinting to see anything, and he brought out his lantern. It seemed to be of little help, creating ominous shadows that seemed to creep ever closer as they moved. Epona nickered again, and then she picked up her pace. Rusl followed closely, eyes alert for danger. His eyes picked up on silky strands that glowed in the lantern light, and his insides started to crawl.
Colin gasped ahead of him. "Link!"
Rusl's gaze snapped straight ahead, his horse breaking into a canter to get to the front, and then he leapt off as he took in the sight before him.
Link was on the his back, splayed out across smooth stone, pale and shivering, blood staining his green tunic as his hand clutched his upper abdomen. His eyes were half open, already noticing Rusl and Colin's approach.
"Pa," he whispered as Rusl fell to his knees beside him.
"What happened?" Rusl asked, looking the young man over. The worst of it from what he could tell was a bad gash on the boy's head and whatever wound he was trying to hold pressure against on his abdomen. Rusl quickly pulled out a bandage from the first aid bag he'd grabbed and gently tried to guide Link's hand from the injury.
"They're... strong..." his boy tried to explain, coughing. "P-Pa..."
Rusl hushed him gently, hand wrapping around Link's wrist. "It's going to be okay, Link, but you have to let me see the wound."
"I'm... glad you're... I didn't..."
Rusl grew more worried as Link didn't seem to listen. He again tried to move the young man's hand, watching blood stream from beneath.
"Pa...?" Colin called hesitantly, and Rusl looked up, gasping and nearly falling backwards.
Eight eyes watched him, beady and black as coal, two incisors chattering excitedly beneath them. Rusl immediately grabbed his sword and shield in time to block a quick strike from the large skulltula. The force of the attack sent him on his backside, and Colin leapt forward, jabbing at the beast with his blade. The giant monster hissed, taking a few steps back before pressing the attack again. Colin yelped, dodging a blow, and Rusl quickly leapt to his feet to stab and cut one of its legs. He saw that one had already been chopped off entirely, and he recognized multiple sword slashes in the beast's body. How was this thing still standing?!
"Colin, protect Link!" Rusl advised, trying to press the offense and push the beast farther away from his boys. Colin grabbed his lantern and set it beside Link, lighting the area better so Rusl could see his opponent.
Link watched the fight with exhausted worry, eyebrows pinched but too weak to do anything. He turned his attention towards Colin as his little brother stood over him defensively. "Colin."
The blonde teenager jumped, startled, and looked down at Link. "It's okay, Link! Pa and I will sort this out."
"It's too... strong," Link advised, shaking his head slowly. "E-Epona..."
"Link, it's going to be okay!" Colin insisted, gripping his sword more tightly.
Rusl emphasized the point when he managed to land a stab right at the joint where one of the beast's legs met its thorax. That should cripple it nicely. The skulltula hissed and screamed, the leg in question giving out, before another swept across the ground, slamming Rusl in the ribs and sending him flying.
Colin called out, rising and ready to run to his father, and Rusl waved him off, blinking stars out of his vision. Link's hand finally left his wound to wrap around Colin's ankle, catching the boy off guard.
"Epona..." he tried again. "Bag... potion... Pa can't... fight it alone..."
Colin looked frantically between his brother and father. Rusl was still down, trying to catch his breath as the skulltula advanced quickly. Making a decision, the teenager rushed back to Epona while yelling to get his father's attention and warn him.
Rusl felt his head spinning, but he could hear the hasty footsteps of the beast, and he readied his shield in time to avoid getting bitten by its massive fangs. The onslaught was constant now, though, one bite after another, legs moving to position him more easily for the kill. He rolled away, grimacing through the damage to his ribs, but he eventually hit a tree and had nowhere else to go without getting up.
Gritting his teeth, Rusl let out a yell of defiance and pain as he rose, only to get smacked down again by one of the beast's uninjured legs. His world was beginning to spin, and he'd ventured too far from the lantern light to see properly anymore. His veins filled with ice as his mind registered this was getting out of control. He rose again, shaky, and jabbed blindly with his sword to create some distance. The skulltula retreated a hair as intended, and he could barely make out its silhouette in the darkness.
A snarl filled the air, something dark and fast rushed into view, slamming the skulltula to the ground. It crumpled with a shriek, legs sprawled and flailing. Light illuminated the area as Colin ran into the clearing, lantern in one hand, sword in the other. He stabbed at the beast's thorax once, twice, thrice, and it still wailed and wiggled, trying to right itself and continue the fight.
The dark, snarling thing that slammed into the beast stumbled into view, and Rusl could make out claws and paws and matted fur before the light around it was snuffed into nothingness. The light reformed with a hiss, and Link was crouching in their midst, trembling and bloodied but up and moving.
"Give me the lantern," Link hissed, grabbing it and smashing it over the beast, flames licking at the monster as it screamed. Link brought his blade down and cut the creature's thorax clean into sections, and the skulltula finally grew silent and still.
Everyone blew out a collective sigh of relief.
Colin broke the silence first, running to his father. "Pa, are you okay?"
Rusl watched Link turn to look at him, his own face cast in shadow, exhausted and filthy and wounded. The Ordonian took a shuddering breath, feeling his own chest scream in protest, and his world finally stopped spinning. He placed a shaky hand on Colin's shoulder, looking hisboy over and seeing that he was unscathed.
"I'm okay," he finally said. He would be better if he could get his racing heart under control. He'd never had such trouble fighting a single beast. He... was about to die if Link hadn't stepped in. His mind was caught in a spiral between concern for his boys and fear at his own mortality having been thrust in his face so unexpectedly. He'd faced death a fair amount, but not when the stakes were so high, not when his sons were right there.
Spirits above. They could have all died just now.
One of them was still hurt. He needed to help Link.
Rusl got to his feet, his body trembling, and he squeezed Colin's shoulder reassuringly. The flames on the skulltula were feasting happily, but they would soon extinguish so long as the Ordonians moved the dead leaves away from the corpse.
"We should go," Link advised quietly. "I'll guide the way. My wolf eyes can see in the dark."
Rusl stumbled somewhat unsteadily towards the young man, not acknowledging his words for a second. Both his hands went to Link's face, holding him steady with his gaze as he looked him over. How the young hero was suddenly standing when he'd been barely able to slew words together before was disconcerting and confusing. He was still wounded, wasn't he? The blood indicated as such.
"I had a potion, Pa," Link explained, putting an equally unsteady hand on the man's chest. Rusl saw the hand was stained, but the blood... why was it black?
He had far more questions than answers, but Link was right. They needed to go. They couldn't handle another fight like that. Rusl felt his heart skip a beat at the thought that something so dangerous had been anywhere near Ordon Village.
Link stepped away before Rusl had a chance to speak, crouching to the ground as shadows encased him. A wolf exited the darkness, shaking himself off a little with a small whine. Link couldn't hide his emotions or his wounds as well in this form, and it was clear he was in pain.
Reality snapped into place around Rusl, and he quickly kicked the leaves away from the skulltula's body, advising Colin to do the same. The last thing they needed was to burn down the forest. Link dug little trenches around the massive body. After a few minutes of work, the three were satisfied enough to leave the body burning, fire lazily crawling across and consuming as it went.
Epona nickered and ran forward to greet them when they made their way back to the original clearing. Rusl saw his horse waiting anxiously in the background. Epona and Link touched noses briefly, the wolf's tail wagging slowly.
"She got us," Colin explained. "She ran back to the village."
Link let out a small noise, licking tentatively at Epona's muzzle, and the horse nuzzled the wolf's face briefly.
"We need to go," Rusl finally said, mounting his own horse with a grunt of pain. He wanted nothing more than to let Link ride with him, but the boy wasn't wrong in that they needed a guide out. It was now night, and the crescent moon did little to guide their way, particularly with the cloud coverage. Colin got on Epona's saddle, and Link slowly began to limp through the forest.
As they moved, it gave Rusl more time to think and worry. How much blood had Link lost before he'd had a potion? Where had this beast come from, and how was it so powerful? Skulltulas were unpleasant, but they'd never been more than a nuisance unless in groups. Perhaps there had been more? Rusl hadn't seen any others, alive or dead.
Dead. Dead. He could have died, and worst of all, it would have left his boys at that beast's mercy. Rusl took a steadying breath, wincing again at his ribs.
He was getting too old for this. Facing his mortality hadn't been this terrifying since the first time it had happened. Then again, it didn't happen all that often. The last time he'd felt such fear clutch at his throat was when the Twilight invasion had started. He'd been nearly beaten senseless, and though he had been afraid for his own life, he had been far more terrified for his children.
But his children hadn't been present for that fight. Here they would have died if he'd failed, and he'd nearly failed.
He needed to contact the others about this. He'd never encountered such a beast, and he couldn't fight another alone. Link hadn't been able to fight it alone!
The sound of Ordon Spring soothed his worries a little, reminding him that they were somewhere safe now. He pulled back on the reigns to stop his horse, and the movement caught his boys' attention.
"Change back," Rusl ordered as he dismounted.
Link watched him a moment, intelligent blue eyes practically glowing in the dark, and then he complied. The young man shuddered, already crouching on the ground, and toppled over to his hands and knees. Rusl knelt down to hold him steady, helping him readjust to sit on the ground instead. Colin was at his other side in an instant.
"Did the potion not help?" Colin asked worriedly, not quite accustomed to the effects of such magical draughts.
"I'm okay," Link assured his little brother tiredly.
"We'll be sure of that when we get home," Rusl added, wrapping an arm around him. "You're riding the rest of the way, Link."
His eldest looked like he was going to argue, but a squeeze around his shoulders silenced him. Instead, he sighed, rising alongside Rusl. There was still some fight left in him, though. "It's not a long walk, Pa."
"Then I'm walking with you," Rusl countered, equally as stubborn as his boy.
"Me too!" Colin insisted.
"This is dumb," Link whined. "The horses--"
"Will follow," Rusl interrupted. "You want to walk, let's walk."
The farther into the village they went, the more at ease everyone became. Ordon held a peace to it that couldn't be easily described, except that the place radiated safety and peace and home. The symphony of crickets and gentle trickle of water eased Rusl's worries about any beasts following, allowing him to focus all his attention instead on ensuring his boy was alright.
Uli was waiting for them when they came home, medical supplies already at the ready alongside some milk. Her face was pinched in worry, but it relaxed a little at seeing everyone at least on their feet. Her eyes scanned the three quickly, and Rusl felt a twinge of guilt and gratitude mixing uneasily at the realization that she was well accustomed to searching for injuries by this point.
Colin escaped the fussing for the most part, aside from just the fact that he was the youngest. He insisted at least three times that he was unharmed, even lifting his tunic to prove it, and was sent to the blanket pile awaiting him in front of the hearth, a cup of milk in hand anyway. Link was next, immediately swept to the couch and told to lay down and take his shirt off. His unsteady gait had both his parents on high alert, and though it was evident that the potion had indeed done the trick (goddesses above, those had been puncture wounds, that beast had actually managed to bite into his boy), it was also evident he'd lost a faira mount of blood and possibly smacked his head. He was tentatively fed some milk and warm broth before Uli began to fuss over cleaning him up. Rusl helped her get Link out of his clothes and chainmail. As his wife wiped blood and grime with a warm, wet rag, Rusl examined the mail, looking at the breaks and resolving to repair it.
The warm water and soothing touch from his mother soothed Link into a half asleep state. Though Rusl knew Uli would prefer just outright giving Link a bath, the simple cleaning was more than enough for the chilly night, and Link's pride would only allow for so much fussing. Eventually the young man was snoring softly on the couch, dressed in Rusl's spare clothes and swaddled in more blankets than Rusl could count.
Rusl sighed in relief, the last tension finally draining out of him, and he dragged his feet to the table. His gaze moved between his sons, both of whom had fallen asleep. Colin was too big for Uli to carry anymore, so he tiredly resigned himself to the task, wincing as he rose.
"You're hurt," Uli said, and Rusl felt like it was possibly a death sentence in itself.
"Uli--"
"You're hurt," she emphasized, tears starting to shimmer in her eyes.
Spirits above, he couldn't make her cry. Rusl went to her, holding her reassuringly, and insisted he was fine. To prove his point, he moved to pick up Colin, trying to hide the pain from his face.
Uli was always a patient and gentle woman. She rarely expressed negative emotions outwardly - instead, it usually came up in her silence, in her melancholy and lack of energy. However, there were still times where it came forth, and she always expressed it in the worst ways possible.
His wife was hardly ever angry, but she would get disappointed.
"Don't," she said, her body stiff, breath short and choppy. "Don't pick him up. You'll set a bad example. They'll think it's okay to ignore injuries."
"Uli, I--"
"Do you want them to get hurt like this more? To hide it and make it worse?" And oh, if it wasn't the disappointment, it was the guilt and tears. Rusl felt exasperated and penitent all at once. He sighed, putting his pride aside and slowly sitting back down.
Uli burst into tears. Rusl immediately rose to go to her, and she pushed him back down.
"I'm sorry, I just--I get so worried," Uli sniffled, muffling her already soft sobs in a handkerchief.
"I know," Rusl said quietly, guilt eating away at him. "I'm sorry too."
Uli pushed a bottle of milk towards him wordlessly, fighting to regain her composure, and Rusl drank it without argument. The couple took in the silence and each other's company, and Uli settled beside him at the table as they watched their children sleep.
"We almost died out there," Rusl said suddenly. He cursed himself and was thankful that the words spilled out all at the same time; he didn't want to worry Uli, but he needed to say it. "That beast... I've never... it makes no sense. It was far more powerful than any skulltula I've ever seen, and it bled black blood."
"Black blood?" Uli repeated. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know," Rusl answered honestly, his gaze settling on Link. The milk he'd had warmed him from the inside out, mending and soothing the ache in his chest. Finally able to take a deep breath, he pulled Uli close as she rested her head on his shoulder. "But we'll figure it out together."
The pair sat there, taking comfort in each other, and a gentle silence hung in the air, holding the oncoming cold at bay.
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