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avocadoguru · 8 months

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He was staring at her in a way no one had in her entire life. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes - not surprise, not fear, not malicious intent - nothing. (wolfrry, werewolf!harry, alpha!harry, ranger!y/n)

Lupus Noctis- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 11 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 12 (word count: 9k) -updated September 6

“So… did you figure it out, yet?”

Harry didn’t even have time to find it funny, “Why wouldn’t you have said anything to me? This is… What do I do? Does she know? She wouldn’t know yet, would she? I don’t think she knows… Niall, I don’t know how to handle something like this!”

Harry’s emotions were high. And for good reason. What he’d just seen had him shaken. And it also meant that she’d been turned against her will by a psychopath. He was glad he’d murdered James but this would always be a reminder of what had happened and who had done it.

He had been curious about a few little things. The first was obviously the speed at which she’d recovered and then there was her sudden spunk. Her heightened sense of smell was peculiar when she picked out that he was to be making eggs benedict, which should have tipped him off right away. How had she guessed? The sauce wasn’t something that most humans could pick out from a small leak in a jar in a bag full of other more fragrant groceries.

“What happened that made you realize?”

“I saw her eyes turn golden. Just wish you’d said something.”

Niall had a hunch about her sudden natural reparative abilities, but he couldn’t be 100% sure at the time.“Harry, you have to understand, man. I didn’t say anything because it was either I was wrong or I was right and you’d figure it out anyway. It was better not to say anything if by chance she was just recovering in a way that doesn’t normally happen in humans. Sometimes things do happen that don’t make sense medically. I figured it was better to just wait and see.”

Harry paced, all the way to the furthermost corner of his expansive garden, outside of Y/N’s earshot. His towel tied tight around his waist as he ran his hands through his damp hair, “You could have at least given me a heads up. What do I do?”

Niall breathed out a laugh, “How should I know? I’m a medical doctor! I’m not cut out for emotional therapy. I’ve never dealt with anything like this. But you’ll figure it out.”

“I know. I just… how do I tell her?”

“Harry, again, I don’t know. We’re talking about a human that has been turned and I’m not familiar with all of this. It’s very unconventional. This kind of thing only happens in extremely rare cases and never in my life have I met a human that’s been turned. I’ve heard about it, just never known someone that it happened to. How has she been acting? What caused her eyes to change?”

Harry cleared his throat and looked up at his house, remembering to keep his voice down, “She’s been… very ready to do stuff. Awake. Wants to go for a swim. Is hungry. Um… a little bit bossy with me even.”

Niall hummed into the receiver, “Bossy… and what happened to have her eyes change?”

Harry could almost hear the cheek in his voice, “She was… I think maybe just excited. She’s been in a really good mood since I came back with groceries a bit ago.”

“Right… a good mood. Well, it’s doctor’s orders to take it easy on her. She might be… well… able to tolerate more, but… she’s still recovering. And so are you.”

A scoff fell from Harry’s lips, “Fine. No advice for me then?”

“Sorry, man. Never dealt with anything like this before. As you know, it’s exceptional that anyone would survive being bitten and getting turned. I just think that’s remarkable… The way you’ve been adamant she’s your mate, all this time. She really is your mate. Only your true mate could’ve survived turning for you.”

Y/N was onto Harry. She knew that he wasn’t running out to his car just to get something. Sure he ran out the front door but the way he reacted to her standing so close to him was a little out of character. Perhaps, she decided, that he was trying to “behave” and not push her into anything intimate. That made sense. She was still recovering from what she was told were deadly injuries. But that in itself was a mystery to her. She felt fine for the most part.

She’d unpacked the groceries and left out the ingredients to make the eggs benedict when Harry was in the shower. But getting interrupted by the way he had groaned and then, the thing that had started to become a big question at the front of her mind, was his scent. It was his natural musk but she could smell him from all the way downstairs in the kitchen while he was in the shower. It was his groan, however, that had her feet carrying her upstairs to check on him. Just to see.

She didn’t know why he’d suddenly become so timid with her. Why he was shying away from her. It was subtle but she noticed it.

When he came back inside, dawning only the towel he tucked around his waist he slowed his movements as he saw her standing there with a knowing look on her face.

“What happened?”

Harry tilted his chin up to feign more confidence than he was feeling in her presence suddenly. It was as if he was looking at her with new eyes. She was like him now and her senses would pick apart the subtlest changes, “I thought I’d left the butter in the car. Wouldn’t have wanted it to melt.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as he walked past her into the kitchen, “But you didn’t go to your car.”

Harry clenched his jaw and stopped in his tracks. It was going to be difficult to pretend he didn’t know what was going on but he wanted to wait a little longer before telling her in hopes of her figuring it out herself. Or, in any case, he needed to figure out a way to ease her into this. He didn’t want her to freak out, or be by herself when she did figure it out. But he needed time to process it himself; all he knew was that he couldn’t just blurt it out to her out of nowhere.

He hated to have to go right back to keeping secrets from her again, especially such a huge one, and especially something that affected her directly. By some miracle he didn’t lose her, she was still there with him by choice, he just couldn’t handle losing her for good if she took to the news badly. Which she had every right to… just as much as she’d had every right to be as upset with him as she’d been just a little while back. He thought back then that he’d lost her for good. And now he had to prepare himself for the possibility of having his heart broken all over again.

The way he handled this was crucial. A wrong move and he could fuck it all up forever. He needed to tread carefully.

He looked at her with squinted eyes, “How do you know I didn’t check the car?”

Y/N paused. She had been feeling like her senses were somehow heightened. Her hearing, her sense of smell… She pondered his question as he continued walking into the kitchen. Looking at his broad shoulders and his back had her wishing he hadn’t run off when he did.

“It’s kind of weird, you know… I’ve been, like, experiencing these weird things. I can hear so clearly and my sense of smell is…” she thought back to the panties she found but decided to keep that bit of information until the time was right, for later, “and I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s all in my head? I feel like maybe I should call Niall…”

Harry watched her carefully as she mulled over everything and he pulled out two eggs from the carton before she continued, “So when I couldn’t hear the car door, I guess I just assumed…” She scoffed, hearing herself out loud. She sounded like a nutcase. Of course she wouldn’t be able to hear the car door all the way from upstairs. “Sorry. I’m being weird. But… right now I’m actually starving so if that butter made it alive let’s eat.”

Harry had Y/N heat the hollandaise while he prepared the rest of the ingredients. But she was clearly still mulling over their interaction upstairs. He noticed her eyes dragging down his bare chest and stopping at his crotch repeatedly. And he could tell she was not only hungry for food but she also had a bit of an appetite for something carnal as well.

He cleared his throat when he turned to find her leaning on the island and watching him, “Gonna burn the sauce.”

Her grin was playful and Harry felt his blood heat up as she spoke, “Turned it off already. The lid will keep it warm.” She didn’t remove her gaze from him. She was making it very clear what she wanted and he wondered if she was aware of what she was doing or not.

As much as he’d have loved to have bent her over the kitchen island and take care of his girl the way she needed he couldn’t allow that. Not until they at least had a real conversation. About what she’d seen. About how she was feeling.

When she began to walk toward him she realized it was like something was just drawing her to him. She wanted to… what did she want? Breakfast was nearly ready and she was very hungry, and yeah, she wanted to eat but what she really wanted was to bite him. Just to nip his shoulder or his neck. His pecs. She didn’t know why her urge was so strong but the moment she was close enough to touch him Harry stood up straight and he looked away from her sultry gaze, “Uh, I’m just gonna go and get dressed and then we’ll eat.”

Breakfast was tasty. It was nourishing and filled her belly, mostly. She felt like she could eat more but Harry’s scent and his hands and his lips were distracting. And the way he kept keeping her at arm’s length had her feeling even more insatiable for him. She knew he was doing it because he was worried about hurting her but she was going to explode if he didn’t do something.

Turning to face his pretty girl he nearly gave in right then and there, seeing the ravenous look in her eyes. He could practically read her mind, that’s how loud she was thinking those dirty thoughts. And he wanted to give in, he wanted to kiss her, hold her, feel her body against his. Taste her… He shook his head as he got off the stool and pulled himself away reluctantly, grabbing their dirty dishes.“Let’s go for a swim. Like you wanted. I think I know a great place. Secluded. Not in the preserve.” Harry rinsed the dishes as he spoke. He could feel her eyes burning into his back but he needed to keep moving, keep his thoughts from wandering too far. Distract her if he could. He felt he could use a swim himself. Get out some of his pent-up emotions and energy.

“That sounds great, actually,” she grinned and lifted herself up to sit on the counter next to where he was washing the dishes, “I feel like I need to move and exert some energy. A little exercise would be good I think. A swim.”

The drive to the new spot wasn’t as quick as it would have been if they’d driven to the preserve and parked and hiked up to their special hidden oasis. But they both knew they couldn’t go back there. Maybe ever. Y/N stopped herself from initiating conversation the whole drive there, and she could tell Harry was holding back, too. She just wasn’t quite ready to address all of that; she at least wanted to go for this swim first. That would hopefully make her feel a bit better. She felt absolutely fine apart from the fact she felt she didn’t fit into her own skin. She was aching to move, burn some energy off, and she suspected it was due to the fact that she was sexually frustrated.

Y/N decided to google her symptoms to pass the time quicker on their drive to this new, secluded place Harry had suggested. She was not quite understanding the way she was able to smell everything so clearly. She typed in sudden heightened sense of smell into the search bar. Scrolling through the various results and webmd articles she landed on something that might explain the strange phenomenon.

Synesthesia could be the answer. It wasn’t uncommon for people that had gone through life-threatening injuries. She wasn’t 100% sure that was what was causing her to smell and hear things she would have never been able to before but at least it was some kind of answer. Something to ask Niall about when she did finally talk to him about all this.

Harry parked his car off the road and tucked away behind large pines and in the grass. It was miles from the preserve and in an area where the mountains were not protected or worked by the rangers. Some of it was privately owned land that hadn’t been touched in decades.

“The swimming cove is a spot I used to come to when I had time to waste and wanted to venture away from the preserve.” Harry spoke as he grabbed her bag from her, putting it over his shoulder and began walking toward the fence that clearly meant the area was off limits.

The overgrowth of vines and grass indicated that no one had been in these parts in a very long time. Which put Y/N at ease. She followed him, scaling the fence easily and trekking through the acreage close behind.

The upward hike was off trail and cumbersome but once they began making their way down into the valley from where they’d hiked Y/N saw the ridges of the mountain and a level area below with a ravine.

“Your sense of direction is astonishing,” she commented as they carefully trekked down toward where they could hear the water flowing, “But I guess that makes sense, doesn’t it? You’re a…” she stopped just before she could say the word. She still had to get used to that idea. That he was a werewolf. Part human, part beast.

Harry turned to look at her, stopping his pace suddenly as he raised his brows at her, “A werewolf? Is that what you were going to say?”

Nodding her head she shrugged, “Yeah. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be called that. Or… I don’t know. Is it okay to say it?”

The gentle smile that took over his features told her it was, though he didn’t respond to her question with words.

Looking down to the sandy portion of the ravine Harry pointed, “Just there. It’s beautiful once you see it from the ground. Come on.”

Y/N was wearing her hiking boots while Harry was in his signature chelsea boots, making the descent to the cove look like child’s play. She was now hyper aware of why he was so good at hiking and trekking and staying steady even in such posh shoes. Everything that had suddenly come to light about what he really was had answered so many questions for her.

But the moment they were standing in the wet sand before the cove where the ravine led, all her thoughts about what Harry was had vanished. Another breathtaking spot with not a single human soul to be seen.

Harry placed their bags on the rocks to keep them dry and began to take his boots off as he watched Y/N curiously. He had been careful not to allow her to over exert herself but she was easily keeping up with him and she seemed fine. She was fine. Her heartbeat was steady and strong, her body had barely broken out in a sweat and she had a wide smile on her face as she looked around.

“Harry, this is… it’s perfect!” She was eager to move her limbs in the cool water. Feel the weightlessness take over and play around with Harry.

She looked over at him as he was undressing, taking his clothes off, his boots already on the rocks next to the bags. So she followed suit. Taking her own boots off and peeling her pants down her legs.

Harry was already jumping into the water by the time Y/N had stuffed her shirt onto the pile of clothes. Looking down over her body she did see the awful scar. The wound was healed but the remnants of what had happened was obvious. She hesitated to remove her bra as she brushed a hand over the raised skin.

“Everything okay?” Harry called to her. She looked out toward him, handsome with wet hair as he came in closer to her.

“Yeah. Just… saw this and…” she ran her fingers from the top of her clavicle downward over the scar to under her breast, “I guess I feel lucky to even be alive. Here with you.”

She kept her eyes on his as she unhooked the back of her bra and removed it.

Harry watched her as she bent down and took her panties off. He was already hard just seeing her bare body but the scar across her chest kept him in check. She was still recovering. Still figuring out what was going on.

The somber moment was suddenly over the minute she jumped into the water next to Harry and began to laugh. The water was frigid but it felt fantastic. Normally she would feel discomfort but right now her body was adjusting to it just fine, feeling invigorated and alive.

Stretching her limbs in the water she ducked her head under to swim closer to Harry and grasped his wrist.

Harry pulled her up and she tugged his arm around herself. Both grinning ear to ear with the closeness. He was just glad she was feeling playful. That she wasn’t upset or hurt by what had happened. At least in that moment she wasn’t. He knew she’d have lots of questions for him. Knew they needed to have a conversation but for now the light hearted moment was the only thing he could focus on. And her warm skin against his.

She was more than just playful though. She was horny and Harry knew it. Having her naked in the cool water of a private cove in the mountains was risky. Because he was turned on too. And he knew he was asking for trouble with this scenario. It evoked memories of their time together at the oasis in the preserve.

He could resist her for only so long. She was laying it on thick in his house during breakfast and now with his clothes off and his obvious erection it would be even harder to resist her.

Harry pulled his arm away and began to swim backwards, gliding through the water smoothly, putting some distance between himself and the girl.

“Where are you going?” She laughed and began to swim toward him slowly.

Harry shook his head and feigned innocence, “What do you mean? Just swimming is all,” he bit the inside of his cheek to tamper the playful grin on his face.

Instead of continuing after him she decided she’d lure him to her. She ducked under the water again, kicking her feet out and splashing as she maneuvered under the water before surfacing, bouncing out just enough that her breasts were visible to him.

She watched him closely as she pushed herself back and stretched her arms to float at the surface. The tranquility of having her ears tucked under the water, muffling all the sounds that surrounded them, and floating in the mountain chilled water on her back was just like being back at her oasis. She smiled to herself and peeked an eye at Harry. To her delight, he was already watching her closely.

His eyes were clearly taking in her soft breasts with tightened nipples perking above the water. She wouldn’t tease him too much but she wanted his hands on her. Wanted his attention. Wanted him to give in to her. She knew what he was doing. Knew he was trying to keep his distance because she needed to heal. But that just made her want him more. His gentlemanly and thoughtful attempts to keep her healthy and the way he was doing it because he cared for her. Denying himself something she knew he wanted as a way of protecting her.

Harry decided to peel his eyes from her body and float on his back too. He needed to straighten out his thoughts and get his mind out of the gutter. He closed his eyes and tried to train his dirty thoughts away. He knew his body was calling him to take care of his natural urges with his mate. And now that she was like him… she was very likely made exactly for him in every way.

But he couldn’t just act on his desires. He didn’t want to hurt her and he was sure if they did have sex she’d display even more evidence of being like him and that could scare her. If she somehow dropped her fangs in the middle of her orgasm or her claws came out while he was pounding into her – yeah, his thoughts weren’t helping. All of that sounded absolutely delightful and he’d love to feel her fangs puncture into his skin, or have her claw up his back and chest.

“Harry,” he heard her voice speak his name and he popped his eyes open, dropping the lower half of his body back into the water and letting his toes scrape along the rocky sand.

She saw the way his erection was bobbing just above the water every time his chest inhaled and he floated upward the tiniest bit. And then his eyes on hers were dark. She could almost hear his heart pounding in his chest, not unlike her own wildly pumping heart.

Something in her decided to cut the shit. She was feeling bold. Feeling like he wanted exactly what she wanted and as nice as it was to be cared for and protected by him she wanted him to fuck her. She wanted him to hold her in his arms and to give himself to her once and for all.

“Stop this,” she spoke matter-of-factly as she swam around his body. “I can see clearly how affected you are by me.”

Touching his shoulder she moved her finger down over his tattoos and to his pecs, thumbing at his nipple and watching his eyes, “I’m okay. Really. You don’t have to keep holding off and denying yourself, Harry.” She moved herself in front of him and draped her arms over his shoulders.

Without another thought, Harry’s hands moved down to her waist as he pulled her in closer to him, “I want you healthy is all. And I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Nodding her head she agreed. That was true. They needed to talk. But something inside of her needed something physical. She needed it to uncloud her brain and give her some kind of clarity. She couldn’t explain it, she just knew she needed it. More than a talk. As important as that was, she was sure she wouldn’t ever be able to focus on anything he told her if he didn’t fuck her first.

“Yes. We will talk. But I don’t know how to explain the way I feel in this moment, how much I need you.” She bit her lip and pushed her hips to his, his cock firm on her thigh, “It’s kind of painful actually.”

Harry could feel her warm against his prick as he looked down to see her breasts grazing against his chest. Painful? Yes, perhaps she was feeling that natural physical urge to release just like he was. That’s how it was for his kind, though he was used to it. Used to the pain of holding off and not allowing himself to indulge right away. She was not used to the way it felt. The ache that wasn’t just from being horny. It was something deep and raw. A biological and natural instinct his kind, their kind possessed.

He knew the pain well. Knew it could be pushed down and she’d be okay. But she was new to all this. And even with the water around them he could smell how intensely she needed him. Needed him to soothe her. And he was the only one that could provide that for her too. He knew that even if she masturbated she wouldn’t be fully comforted. It would pacify her for a bit. Maybe an hour but she wouldn’t be fulfilled. She wasn’t going to feel better until he took care of her. But he needed to be careful.

“I think you need to recover first, kitten.” Harry let the little nickname he’d given her so long ago slip out. Or maybe he’d done it on purpose. There was something about her that was feeding into his own urges. She was drawing them out of him with just her eyes. The change in her was so deep and it tangled with his own impulses and senses that he could barely think straight. He was more drawn to her than he’d ever been and he knew it was because of the change. Because she was like him now. His perfect match.

“Harry,” she spoke softly as she kept her eyes on his, a hand moving over his warm chest, “I trust you. I know you would never hurt me and I can tell you need it too. You need me just as much.”

She could just sense his need. And it wasn’t just the fact that he had an erection. She knew it before all that. She felt it back at his house. Something between them had shifted and it was as if she could anticipate his needs without him having to tell her or show her.

His teeth ached to kiss her and to bite her. A carnal and spiritual feeling overwhelmed him. His willpower was incredible but there was only so much he could take. He was as weak as any man and her wolf was luring his out to play. Perhaps he could be gentle. She needed him. She needed him.

He grasped the back of her head and his lips found her mouth. The kiss was hot and electric and wild. She lifted a thigh up to his hip and he used his free hand to keep it in place, pasting their hips together.

The whimper that fell from his mouth had her grinning and feeling powerful. She grasped onto his shoulders and let the weightlessness of the water aid her in lifting her other leg to wrap around his hips. Harry groaned and brought his other hand down to keep her thighs held up in place.

Their naked bodies were in sync as he began to walk her out of the water and to the small spot where the sand met the craggy rocks. He’d take care of her. Make love to her gently and soothe her ache. Soothe his own ache.

Their mouths never parted as he walked out of the water and carefully placed her down into the sand, his knees falling into the granules as he put himself between her thighs. With her legs open he could smell her in a way that was overwhelming. He groaned and licked into her mouth before parting from the kiss with a gasp.

The scar on her chest and over her neck had him filled with jealousy and hatred. He was glad he’d killed James for even placing a finger on his girl. His lips pressed over her scar just above her breast and she ran her fingers into his long hair as he pecked wet kisses along the skin that had been forever marred.

“I’m going to make it better,” he whispered between kisses, “Make you feel whole again. Give you everything you need. Show you what it means to be mine…”

She closed her eyes and threw her head back as his mouth worked upward slowly and over the skin on her neck. His tongue laved softly and his lips grazed over the sensitive spots that were still healing. She had never felt such need before in her life. Sure she’d been horny before and had never been more turned on by anyone the way she was with Harry. But this was different. Something else was at play and she didn’t have the mind to dwell on it. She only knew that she needed him.

“Please…” she breathed out her plea as his warm mouth soothed her flesh and his nose nudged at her jaw.

“Hurts doesn’t it?” He continued kissing every inch of her scar as he pushed her back down into the sand, “I’m the only one that can make it better.”

She knew it was true. Whatever was happening in her could only be quieted by him.

Nodding her head she spread her legs further, hoping he’d put her out of her misery and fuck her into oblivion, “Harry, please…”

He looked down over her soft body and the scars, and felt emotions rise in his heart. He hated James even in his death, but he was beyond grateful that she was still his. That she was alive. He would worry later about the guilt and the real issue at hand. His own urges and her excruciating need were beckoning to be dealt with immediately. He could practically feel the ache in her body. Her tummy was emanating heat and he felt bad that she was in such pain. She wasn’t used to this level of arousal and need yet. She would learn to deal with it eventually but for now he would give her relief.

Her cry of pleasure was loud, echoing off the rocks of the cove that surrounded them as he placed his mouth on her throbbing pussy, already pulsing and clenching and dripping.

The sting of her fingers pulling at his hair had him growling into her with delight. He could tell she was urging him in harder but he was going to resist doing anything hard or painful. That would come later. When he was certain she was ready for it.

His tongue was wide and flat as he tugged it up and down her slick cunt. She was so wet he was certain he couldn’t possibly lick it all up and the flavor was just like before but now it tasted truly nourishing to him. He held her thighs apart gently as he dove into her like she was a meal. Licking and sucking at her bits.

She writhed and moaned, her hips lifting off the sand and bucking into his face making him nearly lose his grip on her thighs. She was strong. He shouldn’t have been surprised but he was still getting used to the notion that she was like him now.

“Fuck… yes…” she cooed loudly as his scalp was on fire from the way she was yanking his hair.

Harry didn’t lift his mouth to chuckle or respond and taunt her like he wanted. He needed to make her come so he kept his lips at work on her pussy.

When he began to kiss her clit and pull at it with the smallest nip she squealed and cried out his name as her thighs attempted to close around his head. He held her down but he didn’t want to hurt her so he moved his palms up to grip the underside of her knees to keep her legs pressed down.

She continued bucking as her muscles tensed and her moans grew louder. His nose and mouth and chin were shiny and sticky with her as he rubbed his nose into her clit and stuck his tongue into the opening and past her little muscle, the slick gushing noises the only background sound to her gasps and soft pants.

Harry was feeling his own cock leak and throb. Just tasting her and knowing how good he was making her feel was putting him on edge. He swallowed down her arousal and took a gasp of breath before putting his face back into her cunt for more.

She’d never felt it like this before. Something far more intense was happening in her body and she didn’t know if it was because it was her first orgasm since she nearly died or just knowing that Harry was a werewolf and he was probably enjoying the taste of her in a way she never realized before. That all those times he’d told her how much he liked her scent and her taste, he wasn’t just saying it to make her feel good, he actually meant it. Or just knowing that he was a werewolf in general… probably all of the above.

When her orgasm snapped over her body she tightened her grip on his hair he grunted into her pussy in pain, but it didn’t stop him from lapping at her and sucking her clit. She was shaking so hard and pulling at his hair so tight that he was having a hard time moving his mouth over her the way he wanted. Instead, she was moving his face over her soft crease and clit the way she wanted.

Her cries were loud. It almost sounded as if someone was hurting her. Like she was wailing in pain and anguish. Harry understood that this was because of her intense need to release. Her first release as a werewolf by the hands of her lover. Her mate. He rolled his eyes into the back of his head in ecstasy of his own. He’d not come but he could. His own cock was neglected and hot and if he allowed it, he’d come all over himself and the sand below. But he wanted to come inside of her. He wanted to feel her around him and he knew she was going to want it.

The part of him that wanted to wait and to talk first was already a distant memory left back in his kitchen. His instincts and his wolf had taken over at that moment.

He felt her release his hair as she sighed, wiggling underneath him.

Y/N grabbed at him, pulling him up and over her, “Want you inside me, right now. Do it while I’m still pulsing around nothing.”

Harry was beyond trying to fight this, eating her out had driven him over the edge. He was determined to give her everything she wanted and luckily for him, it was exactly what he wanted as well. The way she’d clawed at him to get him on top of her made him feral, he wondered if she was realizing the amount of force she’d just exerted in doing so, but he couldn’t dwell on it for too long, not when he looked down at her and she looked like she was going to howl with how much she wanted it.

She yanked him against her lips and devoured his mouth, licking her arousal off of him and humming profusely, and in turn, Harry didn’t waste a single moment longer before sinking himself into her juicy cunt. The cry she let out was akin to an injured wolf’s and he knew he wasn’t hurting her, she was just giving in to her natural instincts now. That of letting him dominate her completely.

He pulled back a bit to watch her and when she opened her eyes and her golden irises flashed at him he groaned loudly, allowing his own to take over. Her mouth fell agape and she reached to push his hair out of his face to take him all in better while he slowly but steadily fucked into her. “Harry… your eyes. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. You’re exactly who and what you should be, I’m so damn lucky,” she rolled her eyes to the back of her head in ecstasy and Harry thought his heart was going to burst at the amount of love he felt for her.

He didn’t know how it was possible he now loved her even more than before, but being wanted and loved for exactly who he was turned out to be a lot more important to him than he’d thought it would be. He thought he could hide this side of him from her forever and be fine with it, and he’d have done it gladly to keep her. But having it all out into the open and her so accepting of it was something he’d never even allowed himself to hope for.

Well, almost everything out into the open. And god, was she beautiful too. She’d always been, of course, but now that she was like him it did things to him he couldn’t even explain. And it looked so right, so natural. Like she was always meant to be a werewolf. He couldn’t wait to watch her discover everything and come into her own completely. He only wished she’d accept it and embrace it fully.

He was snapped out of his reverie when she nipped at his neck and that only made him drive into her more urgently. Noting it had stung a bit too much, his eyes landed on her mouth and he could see her pointy canines pinching her plump lower lip, a bit of blood coating it.

The sight made him almost come then and there, making him moan and slow his pace a bit to regain focus. As much as he wanted to drag it out and go at it for hours, he needed to milk another orgasm from her and hopefully satiate her craving for a bit, because this was rapidly escalating and getting out of hand. She was completely giving into her natural instincts; and if she noticed any of the signs she was presenting she’d freak out and that was not the way he wanted her to find out.

He flipped her over as though she weighed nothing, not having to hide his natural strength from her anymore and began pounding into her in earnest. He was close, so close, and he knew she was too with how she moaned and whimpered and called out his name repeatedly. But he didn’t want to knot into her just yet, he first needed to explain that to her, plus this wasn’t really the setting for it, he wanted to be able to cuddle with her like that in his expensive bedding back at home, not on this rocky terrain that was sure to leave some bruises on her as it was. He knew she could take it now, he’d of course never have allowed it had she still been just human, but even so, she was recovering, and he didn’t want her feeling any discomfort.

“Please come inside me, Harry. I don’t care. I need it... I can’t explain how much–fuck, how much I need it.”

She needn’t have worried, she wasn’t in heat (yet), so it wasn’t risky like that, but of course she’d worry about getting pregnant. Yet another reason why he needed to find a way to tell her, to avoid all the unnecessary worry on her part. For now, though, he was going to enjoy spilling into her warm cunt, because he needed it just as much. His eyes caught glimpse of her hands she’d rested her smushed cheek against, and her sharp nails were on display. Her much sharper nails. He couldn’t wait for her to claw at his back using them soon, but right now he needed to make sure she didn’t notice them. He grabbed her by her elbows and pulled her back against him, holding her hands behind her back with one arm and snaking the other to her front, finding her clit as he kept thrusting into her from this new angle.

She was already on edge and it only took her a few moments to reach her peak, crying out and letting her head fall back against his shoulder. The sight of the mark on her neck that she probably didn’t even notice wasn’t lost on him though, that was something that would always taunt him, knowing it was someone else’s bite that marked her. But he could claim it as his now, because she was, she was his. It was his cock she was pulsing around, his arms she was falling back into, his name she was whimpering- and so he allowed himself to bite over her mark as he finally gave in to his most primal urge- that of claiming her completely, while he let go and finally filled her up to the brim.

She didn’t even feel the sting of it, she was that far gone; if anything, it was pleasurable for her- as it should be. And for Harry? It was the hardest he’d ever come in his life. His fangs deep into her delicate neck and his cock even deeper into her perfect pussy, she was made just for him, and now she was his in every sense of the word.

With breaths heaving and soft gasps, Harry kept her tight against his chest. He wanted to tell her everything. Wanted so much for her to know what he was thinking. What had just happened to her. What she could expect and that it would only get better and better. If she thought that was intense…

And it was. She didn’t know how to describe the ecstasy, the relief… But it was more than just physical. Everything in and around her felt lighter and more lovely. She was happier than she’d ever been, she felt. She had a sudden urge to run and play; something she hadn’t felt in many years. It was as if being with Harry, everything just made more sense.

With a laugh she wiggled out of his arms and ran back into the water, diving in and swimming out toward the middle, only emerging with a sharp inhale for breath when her lungs needed air.

Harry couldn’t help but look at her in awe. His heart throbbed in his chest with love for her.

“Come on! Get back in!” Y/N shouted and began to glide through the water.

Shaking his head with a laugh he walked back into the icy water and then dove under to meet her in the center of the small cove.

She kept her eyes on the water, waiting for him to emerge but she felt his hand on her ankle before she saw him. With a yelp, she laughed and ducked under to pull at him.

Harry wrapped his arms around her body and pushed them both upward to the surface together. The lighthearted moment suddenly halted as they kept their gazes locked. Y/N moved her arms over his shoulders and drew her face in close to his, brushing their noses together, “I’m so glad I’m here with you. I’m glad I’m alive. I’m glad you’re alive. I don’t know what I would have done. I thought I lost you and that’s the last thing I remember before…” she paused, feeling herself get emotional she swallowed her tears, “It just feels like… destiny to be here with you.”

He could feel and hear her heart beating in her chest and he knew she could feel his do the same. It was as if his whole life had all been leading him to this moment. He knew that this woman was his mate. He’d always known it. Maybe ever since the first night he laid eyes on her in the woods all that time ago. Despite the fact that she had a gun pointed at him, there was just something about her. Something that he knew was different. He belonged to her before he ever met her.

“I’m so glad you’re here too. That we’re here together,” he looked down at her beautiful face as he continued, “I was ready to kill everyone when I thought you weren’t going to make it. Niall said there was no hope. That it was… too late for you,” he inhaled a shaky breath remembering the state she was in just days ago.

“Tell me about what happened. Everything I don’t know about, before, and after the fight. I want to know what happened.”

Harry began to describe the day he was taken and how he’d been outnumbered. He told her why it’d come down to that, about James’ and Irina’s involvement, the way the elders didn’t listen to him having already made up their minds and weren’t going to give him a fair trial.

But with Y/N’s quick thinking and by her reaching out to Niall a chain of events was set off that actually helped matters.

“Lester is a pack leader too, as you know now. The Pack of the Western Plains. He has connections all over. He’s very well respected. So, with his resources he made it so that there was a trial at the very least.”

“And Eddie too? He was there.” She said, remembering the events of that day.

“Yes. He was finally able to shift back into his human form. Because of you,” Harry brought a hand up to her face and gently brushed his knuckles over her temple.“I expected that no matter how the trial ended there would be a fight to the death. And I was certain that no matter how many drugs they’d given me or that they’d left me without food and water that I would be able to do away with James rather easily. But I was weakened. Significantly. It’s the only reason he even had the chances he did. It’s why he got in a few good tears. Had I been in my normal shifted state he would have never been able to penetrate my skin and I would have killed him within the first thirty seconds. And he knew that. So did everyone else.”

“They all let you fight like that? Did your pack not respect you as their alpha?”

Harry sighed and nodded, “They never respected me. They were always very rigid in their beliefs. They preferred the old ways of doing things. Most packs nowadays are more open and lenient. There are still strict rules we have to follow but tolerance is practiced these days. Not my pack… my old pack.”

“Are you worried they’ll come back and try to hurt you?”

Putting his arms around her low back protectively he pressed his forehead to hers, “I am. I’m worried they’ll try to hurt you too.”

“Even though you’ve given up the pack? And you won the fight?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t put it past them. I’ll do anything I can to protect you,” Harry paused and leaned back to look at Y/N again, “Which is why I think it would be good for us to visit Lester and Alma at the farm for a while. Get away from here for a bit. Just until we can get our bearings and heal.”

The smile on her face gave Harry relief. He wasn’t sure she’d be up for it, but she’d been surprising him since she woke up from her coma.

“That sounds like a really good idea. I’d love to spend more time with Eddie too.”

His heart continued to lob in his chest wildly. She was more than perfect for him in every way. He couldn’t contain his joy to have her in his arms, “He’d love that. Edward is very fond of you. And he was there, at Niall’s practice. With all of us while you were in that bed. He was devastated.”

Y/N nodded and felt awful about putting anyone through such distress. She knew it wasn’t her fault but she could imagine what it would have been like to watch a friend or lover unconscious in bed and not know if they’d come out of it or not.

“... And you? How did you deal with me being in that bed?”

Harry shook his head and let his eye contact falter for a moment as he thought back to how completely ruined he felt, “Felt like I would die if you didn’t make it. Like I couldn’t breathe or eat. I talked to you all day. Kept myself close by your side and encouraged you to wake up. Made sure you were comfortable in the bed even though I knew you couldn’t really feel anything. I didn’t know what to do. Niall kept telling me it was impossible–” Harry inhaled a sharp breath and tried to calm his emotions but his eyes began to fill with tears with just the memory of how utterly hopeless everything felt.

“Hey,” Y/N moved her hands to cup Harry’s face, “I’m right here. And I’m very much alive. We both are. I’m not going anywhere. You saved me.”

Swallowing his tears he blinked and forced the smallest smile, “And you saved me. If it weren’t for you I would be dead right now.”

Y/N leaned in to kiss the gorgeous werewolf. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten so lucky to have him in her life. That he wanted her. She only felt more connected, in tune with him. It was as if the accident had altered something in her soul. She was changed. She figured it was love.

Harry pinched her hip softly and pulled away from the kiss. He couldn’t help it. He needed to be honest with her. He’d told her his truth when she was asleep but now that she was wide awake and in his arms he knew he had to say it that very moment or he’d suffocate, “I love you, Y/N.”

Her lips parted at his admission and she was suddenly aware of her body against his and the way his heart was rapidly throbbing in his chest at the same pace as her own. She felt as if she’d heard him say it to her before. That this wasn’t the first time.

She gripped his biceps tight and felt herself shiver at the intensity of his bright green eyes. He loved her. He truly did and she felt it deep in her spirit. Without a doubt, he loved her.

“Harry, I love you too. So much,” she gasped as he squeezed her tight to his chest and felt him purring against her own. The comfort that brought to her was consuming. She sighed and held him tight, her cheek smushed into his shoulder.

Everything around them was dizzy and soft. She was safe in his arms. She was safe with her lover.

When he pulled back a bit and let his head fall back, inhaling sharply and then howling loudly, Y/N gasped in excitement and couldn’t hold back her tears of joy. She smiled widely looking at Harry in his element, expressing happiness freely and it made her own heart flutter. He looked back at her, his wide smile matching her own, the echo of his wolfish howl still resounding in the cove, and she’d never seen him look happier.

She’d done that. Just by loving him.

The sudden vibrating in her own chest startled her. She looked up at Harry whose eyes were wide as he looked down at her.

“Harry– what…?” She looked down at her bare body, putting a small bit of distance between herself and Harry. The vibrating stopped suddenly as she put a hand up to her chest and looked into the crystal water surrounding them and reflecting the sky above and both their faces.

But then she stilled completely, the ripples on the surface cleared away and she focused on the features of her face, being mostly drawn to the bright golden irises staring back at her in the reflection of the water.

In stunned silence she looked up at Harry before looking back into the water again.

He knew it was only a matter of time. He just hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

A/N: (@fkinavocado and @gurugirl here) The long awaited update is here! Thank you for sticking with us!

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aziraphales-library · 6 months

Note

Greetings and salutations! Thank you all for your hard work! I was wondering if y'all knew any slice-of-life style, character-driven type fics? Not necessarily plotless, just focusses on character drama over plot drama. Preferably on the longer, slowburn-y side and canon compliant. Sorry if this is incoherent, but I figured if anyone could help y'all could. Thanks again!

Hello! Here are some slow-burn/slice of life more character-driven fics for you...

Taking Steps by JoyAndOtherStories (G)

Crowley was in a state of shock. Admittedly, this shouldn’t have been surprising, given that his recent experiences included near-death, body-swapping, car explosions, bookshop conflagrations, and rebellious eleven-year-olds defeating the forces of Heaven, Hell, and independent contractors. But that had been two weeks ago, and though saying he’d recovered would have been not so much stretching the truth as utterly shattering it, his current state of shock was…something different. “Say—say that again, angel?” he managed. “You said…you wanted to try…new things?” Basically: Aziraphale wants to try new things. The first one he comes up with: Salsa dancing! Meanwhile, Crowley really just wants to snuggle with his angel. Fluffy pining ensues while they figure out that they actually both want the same thing.

Take My Heart (But Not My Hand) by Ghostinthehouse (T)

"You know he needs touch?" "Yeah," Crowley says, following Adam's gaze to Aziraphale. "I know. We'll figure it out, he and I. We always do. Eventually."

My Favorite Ghost by DiminishingReturns (T)

Decades after the world didn’t end, Heaven and Hell got their war — and nearly destroyed everything in the process. When Aziraphale finally manages to reacquire a corporation and return to Earth, he discovers he was gone longer than he thought and the planet has become unrecognizable. As he searches for Crowley and tries to figure out how he fits in a world that Heaven, Hell, and God have all wiped their hands of, nature works around him to reclaim the bones of an old civilization as the scraps of humanity build a new one. A lush and optimistic post-apocalypse story, told from the POV of an immortal who can't let go of the past.

Though Heaven Bar the Way by books-and-omens (T)

Nearly five decades after the Holy Water argument, Aziraphale is sent to a world-famous sanatorium in the Swiss Alps on an assignment that Heaven appears to care about rather more than usual—only to find out that Crowley, of all creatures, has already established himself there. Clearly, this cannot be good for anyone's constitution.

Pictures of You by AnnetheCatDetective (M) (WIP)

It starts with a well-meaning gift, and a hopeful invitation. Mod note: While this fic is technically a WIP that has not been updated since 2019, it does currently end on a satisfying note.

I Only Have Eyes For You by Twilightcitysky (M)

After narrowly escaping execution, Aziraphale and Crowley want to fly under the radar for a while. Worried that performing miracles will reveal their location to their former bosses, they relocate to the country and stop using their powers. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is ready to start moving faster... and Crowley has a secret. Can he keep Aziraphale from realizing what's changed while juggling moving trucks, furniture assembly, inquisitive mediums, attacks of Feng Shui, and the mortifying ordeal of grocery shopping? A fic about moving in together, finding yourself, and finding one another.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #slow burn #slice of life #long fic #mod d

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 10 months

Text

Mandela Prophet AU: Long Walk Home (Restored)

After being left behind by Jonah, Adam finds himself alone, walking home in the cold. However, during his journey back, he encounters something, and it seems to have an offer for him.

TW: MAJOR body horror, blood/gore, vomiting, character death

Notes: this is a rewrite of THIS fic I made a little while ago when this au was still new, and this rewrite is around 4'860 words (around 1000 words longer than the first one I think.) So yeah. that's funny huh.

January 13th, 2009. 3:31 AM

God, Adam hated the cold.

He had lost track of how long he had been walking at that point, boots dragging against the ground as he kicked rocks down the asphalt road. He crossed his arms, pressing them against himself as he shuddered from the cool winter air that hit him. All that protected him from the frigid air around him was a black hoodie, with the letters “BPS” written on the back and front in yellow letters, along with a pair of ripped skinny jeans. His hood was pulled over his head, covering his hair aside from his pale, dark blond bangs that covered his forehead. His hands were covered in fingerless gloves, though they didn’t help make his fingers feel any less like they would fall off at any moment.

“F-Fucking…dickhead.” Adam muttered under his shaking breath, which clouded the air in front of him. “Prick.”

That fucking asshole; leaving Adam to walk miles in the cold, narrowly avoiding falling every time he slipped on a frozen puddle. If Adam wasn’t preoccupied with the idea that he’d die of hypothermia, he’d find Jonah and beat the shit out of him until he bled. A coward was all he was, deciding that an empty house was too scary for him. To make things worse, Jonah took the only car along with him, meaning Adam had no choice but to hope he didn’t freeze to death during the walk there. As soon as Adam saw Jonah again, he’d regret just abandoning him, as soon as he recovered from the broken nose Adam would give him.

He gave up the hope of hitchhiking, considering he hadn’t seen a single car pass by for the hour he’s been walking. He passed underneath the light of the scarce streetlights, looking up to see that he was nearing a turn in the road, sighing as he realized he was around halfway to the border to Bythorne. Another hour of walking; lovely. He tried to ignore the soreness in his lanky legs as he approached the metal railing on the side of the road, staring out into the dark woods behind it as he paused for a moment. His brows furrowed and his expression darkened as he leaned onto the railing, seeing the steep drop before him as he took in a deep breath, trying to think of what he should do. He could’ve walked back to Mandela in the time it took to get to Bythorne, maybe finding help there, or he could’ve sucked it up and continued the exhausting journey to the BPS HQ without a vehicle. That or he could’ve stayed where he was, wallowing in his own frustration and annoyance until he froze to death. He let out his breath, turning back towards the road as he prepared himself to bear the cold for one more hour, deciding to take his chances and head towards Bythorne.

Adam had only taken a couple steps before he stopped again, staring ahead at the road before him, frozen, though not from the cold. The wind had ceased, and silence fell, overbearing enough to make Adam’s ears ring. He stared down the street, eyes fixated near one of the streetlights, or more accurately, a figure he saw standing next to it, right outside of the lights beams. It was tall and humanoid, though Adam couldn’t make out its facial features from where he was. It wore a white robe from what Adam could see, along with a dark grey sash around its waist. They had long, pale grey hair that draped over their shoulders, along with a large, metal collar around its neck. Adam stared at the featureless monochrome face staring back from the dark as he found himself instinctively stepping back a few steps, shaking his head before turning around to take his chances with going back to Mandela instead.

“Good evening, Adam.”

Adam flinched when he saw the tall figure standing before him, looking up to see their face, seeing that it finally looked at least mostly human, aside from the grey skin and somewhat uncanny smile, along with the pitch black irises staring back at him.

“W…what…are you?” Adam asked, unsure why he suddenly felt a deep pit in his stomach.

“I am the angel Gabriel,” Gabriel introduced, though Adam had a hard time believing it. “I’ve come to simply…chat with you.”

“I…No. No I’m not talking with you.” Adam stated, stepping back a few steps. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You’re no angel, and we both know it.”

Gabriel’s smile didn’t wane as it tilted its head slightly. “…Really.” Gabriel chuckled slightly, its voice distorted as it did so. “Well, I suppose you wouldn’t think so, would you. You never believed in such things.”

Adam didn’t respond, taking a few more steps backwards.

“It’s cold out, Murray.” Gabriel stated. “Funny; someone who claims to be your best friend leaves you out to die alone. A coward.”

“How…how do you know about that?” Adam asked.

“I’ve been observing from a distance.” Gabriel answered simply. “I know just how much Jonah has been…a thorn in your side. He’s been preventing you from continuing your search for the truth, holding you back from your…true potential.”

Adam lost eye contact for a second as he looked at the ground, brows furrowing slightly.

“Though, I suppose you never felt the same way he did towards you, did you? After all, you don’t need friends.” Gabriel chuckled. “They only hold you back. They’re hindering your progress.”

“Look, leave me alone,” Adam commanded. “I’m done. I don’t need help from you things. I can handle myself.”

“Perhaps...” Gabriel looked down at Adam, leaning down slightly. “However, you won’t find what you’re looking for by yourself.”

“Sure I can—”

“No…oh, no you can’t.” Gabriel laughed once again; a laugh that felt…demeaning. “You can’t even begin to process the truth; the truth of this world, or…even the truth of your own existence.”

Adam became silent, staring at Gabriel as it began to walk past him, Adam able to see two large open wounds on their back; where wings would be.

“However, I believe you’re looking in all the wrong places; a problem that can be solved quite simply.” Gabriel paused, turning their head back at Adam as they held out their hand within his view, revealing that they were holding a red apple in their hand. “Murray, I can help you. I know exactly what you’re looking for, and believe me; I can help you find it.”

Adam watched as they grew closer, holding out the apple as he stared at it pensively. “Take it…and you’ll find that all your answers are really right in front of you.” Gabriel continued as Adam took the apple out of their hand. “The truth of what happened to you…what happened to your family…everything you have ever desired will be yours.”

“…Everything?” Adam asked as he looked back at Gabriel’s face.

“Indeed.”

Adam looked back down at the fresh looking apple in his cold, shaking hands as he thought to himself. “I’ll…figure out what…happened to my mom?” Adam asked quietly.

“Of course.” Gabriel smiled wider. “And I can guarantee that even your friends will finally see what you are truly capable of. They will find out just how wrong they were about you. You will be ignored no longer, Murray.”

Adam stared at the fruit, even as Gabriel appeared behind him and put their hands on his shoulders. “Everything…right at your fingertips.” Gabriel whispered. “All you need to do…is take one bite.”

Adam took in a deep breath, thinking for a moment before he raised the apple towards his mouth, and took a bite.

It tasted of charcoal and rotten meat.

He choked it down, looking at the apple only to see that it wasn’t a very pale yellow, instead it appeared to be a dull grey, and Adam could see what looked like bug limbs twitching as they stuck out from the “apples” flesh. Adam dropped the “fruit”, seeing it turn to mush the second it hit the asphalt, all while Gabriel began to laugh. Its cackle drilled into Adam’s head; a discordant, inhuman sound that echoed around him. Adam coughed and choked, his throat beginning to burn as he gagged, scratching at his neck as he fell to his knees.

“You truly are a selfish fool, aren’t you?” Gabriel mocked. “Almost pitiful.”

“W…Wh-what…what the fuck…what the fuck was that—” Adam questioned, despite feeling as if something was scratching the interior of his esophagus.

“Thank you, Murray,” Gabriel chuckled, ignoring Adam’s question. “You have made things so simple for me.”

Adam looked back up, seeing that Gabriel had vanished into thin air, all before he looked back down, trembling as he tried to make himself gag, but finding himself unable to. He forced himself onto his feet, gagging and coughing as he covered his mouth, stumbling down the road as he decided to go back to his original plan; returning to Bythorne. He felt sick just thinking of going back to Mandela, though it could’ve also been the strange dread he felt that made his stomach churn.

His breathing was harsh and uneven as he staggered down the road, letting out groans and gasps of discomfort as the pressure where his stomach was soon turned into pain. The lights he found comforting above him slowly began to be unbearable, making his dilated pupils sting every single time he passed under one. He felt as if he would vomit at any moment as he tried to maintain balance despite feeling lightheaded. Was he dying? Was it poison that he ate? He didn’t know the answers to any of the questions that came up in his head, only trying to focus on getting help.

“J-J-J…J…Jonah?” He called into the night air, having to choke out the word, as his throat felt tight. “JONAH?!”

No answer; wherever Jonah was, he was too far away to hear Adam’s calls.

Adam let out a surprised yell as he felt a surge of pain hit him at once, causing him to hunch over as he held his stomach, feeling as if his insides were burning. He covered his mouth as he fell to his knees on the side of the road, lurching over as he threw up a mix of bile and blood. Despite getting everything he could out, the burning didn’t wane; it even began to get worse, even when he had nothing else in his stomach to puke out. Adam swayed in place, shakily rising to his feet as he walked around the puddle of his own internal fluids, trying to ignore how he saw bloody chunks of flesh in it.

For miles and miles, he continued to walk, despite how weak his legs felt with every passing second. Not a single cohesive thought ran through his brain as he stumbled, holding his arms against his torso as hard as he could, despite it doing nothing to help the increasing burning, stabbing pain developing inside of him. He twitched and shook, unable to stay still as if strings were pulling on every limb, forcing them to move in borderline painful ways. His elbow popped every time his arm jerked to the side, his knees cracking with every awkward step, and his head jerking and twitching at random moments. He wanted nothing more than to collapse to the ground and sleep until morning, giving him a break from the increasing agony he felt coursing through his veins as he forced himself to walk one step at a time.

Had it already been an hour? Adam couldn’t tell, with his grasp on time slipping. Thoughts ran through his head, most feeling not his own as he tried to make one cohesive thought to figure out a way to get him out of the situation he was in. However, as he tried to force his mind to slow down, his eyes caught something in the distance. Red lights; a car’s taillights pierced the darkness, Adam able to hear the sound of the engine running as he slowly grew closer. He felt a tinge of hope, for the first time that night, all before he looked down towards the side of the vehicle, the hope turning back into anger. Jonah.

Jonah was sitting against the side of the car, knees hugged close to his chest as he sobbed into his arms. Adam could make out his silver dyed hair, and he was wearing his leather jacket and white sweatshirt, along with blue jeans and red high-top shoes. His quiet sobbing was barely audible until Adam staggered close, letting out a pained groan as he nearly fell to the ground, clasping his stomach as he fell to his knees. He looked up at Jonah, the car feeling so close yet so far. He breathed in and out repeatedly, finding his voice before he choked out: “J-Jonah?”

Jonah looked up, not even glancing in Adam’s general direction at first, looking around before his gaze finally reached Adam. “…Adam?”

“J…Jonah you…you fucking dick…” Adam groaned as hunched over, barely processing the sound of Jonah’s footsteps rapidly approaching him.

“W-What; Adam what ha—”

“Shut up.” Adam stated as Jonah helped him to his feet. “Just…get us the fuck out of here, man.”

Jonah rested Adam’s arm over his shoulders as he led Adam to the car, lightly pushing him into the car through the passenger side door before entering it himself, looking back at Adam as he slammed the driver’s side door closed. “What happened, what’s going on?” Jonah questioned, his eyes showing his unease and fear as Adam bounced his leg and leaned back in his seat.

“Look…I’ll explain it later, just…go, alright?” Adam exhaled. Jonah didn’t question it, driving away as soon as Adam was done speaking, speeding down the road and towards Bythorne. Jonah glanced towards Adam every few seconds, seeing that he was trembling, curled into himself as he leaned against the car door. Jonah tried to keep his breath steady, repressing his fright before he prepared to speak, only to be interrupted by Adam.

“I…didn’t think you’d actually…listen to me.” Adam said quietly.

“What?”

“You…just fucking left?”

“Look I…I can’t just…I couldn’t just stay there,” Jonah stated. “And I thought…you wanted me gone anyway.”

There was silence for a moment as Adam shuddered, feeling a strange twitch in his torso.

“You’re in a fuckin…paranormal group and you’re scared of the paranormal?” Adam glanced at Jonah, Jonah only returning the stare for a brief moment before looking away.

“I-I…I wanted the money, okay?” Jonah sighed. “…and…friends. It’s hard to get a job around here anymore so…I thought it would…help.”

“You never cared?” Adam questioned. “Is that why you never fucking help with anything?”

“I cared, like…God, I don’t know.” Jonah responded.

Adam scoffed before coughing and shuddering once again.

“Look, I’m…just…happy to see you again, man.” Jonah said hesitantly. “I mean…you…are Adam…right?” Jonah smiled nervously and insincerely as he looked at Adam.

“Of course I am.” Adam stated with annoyance. “Blue eyes. If you even paid attention, you’d know that alternates have black eyes.”

“I know but—”

“Wait, you…you think I was replaced?” Adam questioned. “You thought I died in there?”

The silence felt deafening, Adam shaking again as he tried to silence the thoughts that ran through his head.

“Jonah, did you—”

“Yes.” Jonah responded quietly, his voice almost nothing more than a squeak.

Adam scoffed again, brows furrowing as he looked out of the passenger side window. “Of course you did.” He stared outside blankly, barely able to see the trees on each side of the road aside from what was within the headlights beams. The calmness was short lived however, as he suddenly felt a jerk inside of his body, as if something had shifted against his ribs. Adam abruptly hunched over, grasping his stomach as he let out groans of discomfort, Jonah looking at him as he did so.

“Adam?” Jonah felt a pit in his chest grow as he watched Adam shake harder. “You…are you okay?”

“I-I-I don’t…know.” Adam stated, finding himself unable to sit still for even a second. “I think…I need a hospital.”

Jonah’s breath quickened when he heard that statement, turning back towards the road before he saw a sign on the side of it; the sign that signaled the edge of Mandela’s border, and thus the entrance to Bythorne. “We’ll be there soon, don’t worry.” Jonah attempted to sound reassuring, though not even he was sure if there truly was nothing to worry about. “You’ll be okay, alright? You’ll be fine.” Adam’s shaking was becoming worse with every passing second, and the dread creeping up in Jonah’s mind was following suit. Jonah tried to focus on the road as the trees disappeared on the edges of the road, being replaced by a large field on both sides. He was so close to Bythorne, and more importantly, a hospital. Just 20 more minutes at most, less if he ignored the speed limit despite the ice on the road. Jonah took on last glance at Adam to check up on his state, only to see his eyes roll back and his body jerk forward, spitting out blood onto the dashboard.

Jonah let out a surprised yell, staring at Adam as he began convulsing, slamming his head against the back of his seat repeatedly. Jonah pressed his free arm against his chest, trying to keep him still as best he could while also trying to keep an eye on the road. Jonah cursed under his breath as he tried to suppress the urge to panic, feeling Adam resisting against his grasp under his hand.

“O-Out…out.” Adam mumbled.

“What? W-What do you me—”

“Get me out of this FUCKING CAR.” Adam commanded, blood running down the edges of his mouth.

“Okay, okay!” Jonah hesitantly obliged, pulling over and parking beside the edge of the field. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Adam pushed open the door, stumbling out and towards the front of the car. He only got a few more steps before he collapsed, laying on his back as he continued to violently shake, Jonah leaving the car to try and help. Jonah stood in shock as he tried to think of any way he could possibly help Adam as he laid on the ground, convulsing.

“I-I’ll go get help okay? I’ll see if there’s anyone around here.” Jonah said as he looked around.

“Don’t leave me…don’t leave…m…” Adam could barely get his words out, feeling a pressure building in his chest.

Jonah ran down the road until he was at the edge of the field, seeing that not a single car was driving their way, nor were there any homes in view. “HELLO?” Jonah called into the night air. “HELP! HELP US! ANYONE?!”

Jonah let out a frustrated and worried groan as he realized there was no one and nothing nearby that could help them, snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Adam’s scream from a distance. He immediately turned back, rushing as fast as he could towards Adam, out of breath by the time he arrived. “We need to get out of here; get in the car.” Jonah exhaled, as he crouched by Adam’s side, grasping his hand to pull him up.

“I-I don’t—”

“I know you don’t want to, but we need to get you to a hospital.” Jonah said quickly. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jonah helped Adam sit up, Adam groaning with every movement as they both slowly stood up. “We’ll get you help, okay?” Jonah reassured. “You’ll be okay—” Jonah felt something shift under Adam’s back, jerking his hand away when he felt it as Adam let out a loud yell, immediately falling back to the ground. Jonah stared at Adam with confusion and fear as he began to let out pained yells, coughing up blood onto the road below him as he grasped the sides of his hoodie with his clammy, cold hands.

Jonah had no clue what to say, feeling a deep fear as he backed away, seeing something crawling underneath the skin on Adam’s back. Adam’s screams of pain continued, becoming worse with every passing second and with every sharp pain he felt in his back, as if something was pressing against the inside of his skin and muscles. Adam could feel and hear his ribs cracking, shifting in unnatural ways and breaking away from each other. He was muttering unintelligible things under his breath, interrupted by more screams as blood began to stain small parts of his hoodie’s back, barely visible through the black fabric. Jonah watched, Adam’s screaming not stopping before something pierced through the skin.

Fingers were pushed through Adam’s back, with a skeletal hand following, then an entire long, disproportionate, mangled arm that slid out of his back, placing its hand on the ground next to his body. Jonah yelled, stumbling backwards and falling to the ground, crawling backwards with his eyes fixed on the half-formed limb until he pressed his back against the grill of the car. Blood dripped off of the limb as skin began forming around its blackened bones, the limb moving in an unnatural way, as if it never moved before. More squelching and tearing was heard as a second long arm pushed itself out of Adam’s back, lying on the ground next to Adam as it felt around.

The choir of agonized screams, tearing flesh, and cracking bones continued as six more limbs followed, much shorter and more proportional than the two that came before them. Jonah watched in horror as they wriggled around, feeling the cool winter air, Adam’s wounds stinging and burning from hitting open air as well. Adam shakily held up his head, blood seeping out of his mouth and his eyes bloodshot from crying, feeling something scratching at the inside of his cheeks. Eight mandibles pushed themselves out of his mouth from the inside of his cheeks, feeling around as Adam gagged and choked.

He saw something appearing in his peripheral vision, barely able to process it before a hand placed itself over his left eye, Adam weakly trying to remove it as two more covered his other eye and his mouth, suppressing his hoarse screams entirely. Jonah watched as Adam thrashed around, trying to free himself from the parasite’s grasp fruitlessly, all before he abruptly became still, his limbs becoming limp as another parasitic limb held up his head.

Silence fell, with only Jonah’s harsh breathing and the sound of blood dripping onto the asphalt being heard. Jonah couldn’t even find his voice to scream, staring at Adam’s bloody body, unsure if he was dead or alive until the limbs twitched once again. The two largest arms pressed against the ground, raising Adam’s limp body up until it didn’t even touch the ground. It looked like a spider almost, with Adam being at the center of the eight parasitic limbs like a spider’s main body. Jonah watched as it grew still, holding Adam’s body above the ground before its arm turned his head around to face the cowering man in front of the car. As soon as Jonah saw the fingers covering Adam’s eye shift and reveal one horrified, watering eye staring back at him, he immediately snapped out of his shock and scrambled to his feet.

Jonah screamed, running across the road as Adam’s eye was covered once again, all before the two limbs holding his body up began to “run” after Jonah. Jonah didn’t look back once, no matter how close the thing’s “footsteps” sounded in the snow behind him. Jonah cried, his tears freezing to his face as he scrambled towards the woods, hoping to lose the thing behind him if he managed to make it there. However, when he felt a hand grasp his ankle, tripping him and making him fall to the ground, he realized he simply didn’t have the speed to do so.

Jonah slammed against the ground, turning onto his back as he stared up at Adam’s body, seeing the hands covering up most of his face. The hand covering Adam’s mouth moved and his mouth opened, the mandibles in his jaw exiting it. One of the main arms pressed against Jonah’s chest, pinning him to the ground as two free arms cracked and twitched, lengthening until they were wrapped around his neck and clasping his jaw. Jonah stared at Adam’s face, sobbing and kicking his legs in the air as he felt the grasp of the hands tighten. “Adam…” Jonah whimpered. “…Please—”

He couldn’t even get his sentence out before he felt his neck crack.

6:11 AM

Adam awoke face down in the field, snow gathering in his hair and snowflakes landing on his sore back. Large red indents in his skin were visible through the large tears in his jacket, barely healed over enough to stop bleeding. Adam didn’t even want to open his eyes, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, however as he shivered and felt the snow under his face making his skin go numb, he decided to wait just a little longer to do so.

Adam winced as he pushed himself off of the ground, shakily rising to his feet as he looked around, seeing that the sun was barely illuminating the sky, as if it was still midnight. Every bone in his body felt sore, with his back burning from the cold air. Adam couldn’t even scrounge up a single cohesive thought as he staggered around the field, looking around before his eyes fixated on something in the distance; the car, which still had its headlights on, signaling Adam’s way out of that hellhole. However, when he caught something in the corner of his eye, he paused, looking towards the middle of the field before he spoke.

“Jonah…?”

From where Adam stood, he could barely make out Jonah laying in the snow, unmoving. Adam stared from a distance, glancing back at the car before deciding to shamble through the snow and see what was going on. Jonah better get up before Adam gets there, else he’ll get his ass kicked for making Adam worry about him. Or, well, was Adam truly worried? He wasn’t sure, though he couldn’t help but notice that he needed to suppress the unease he felt as he approached Jonah, muttering as he did so. Soon, Jonah came into view, Adam looking at him with an annoyed, pained look before he spoke.

“I swear to God Jonah, if this is another jo—”

Adam froze when he finally saw Jonah’s body in detail. Blood was coagulating and pouring out underneath Jonah’s body, staining the pure white snow a deep crimson. His limbs were bent in odd ways, with bruises all over his body. Adam’s dilated eyes looked at Jonah, barely acknowledging how the body looked, as he was too distracted looking at where his face was.

Gone.

It was gone.

There wasn’t even a head, with only a bloody, messily torn stump where it used to be remaining. Adam looked behind the body, seeing something written in the snow above where the head would’ve been:

“COWARD”

Adam wasn’t sure why his nausea had left him, or why he felt so empty despite him staring at the horrific scene in front of him. He stared blankly at Jonah’s body, wincing when he felt a stinging sensation in his skin. He couldn’t remember anything before he woke up aside from agony, even being unsure what had caused it; were they attacked? Was an alternate the reason Jonah was gone? Adam wasn’t sure, backing away from his “friend’s” body before turning towards the road, deciding to take the car back to Bythorne.

He walked towards the car, glancing at the road and seeing a frozen, dark puddle in front of the car, deciding to ignore it as he opened the driver’s door. He sat in the vehicle, closing the door behind him in silence as he glanced at the dashboard, seeing yet again more blood splattered on it. With a blank expression and without a single word, Adam started the engine and drove down the road, leaving Jonah’s body behind as he headed home. He wished the car radio in the car worked; then maybe he wouldn’t be left alone with the new thoughts that ran through his head.

As he drove, he pushed back the urge to sleep at the wheel, all while ignoring the faint twitching in his stomach. The heater was barely succeeding in keeping Adam warm in the car, with his breath still visible in front of his face. He hated the cold, and now even his own body felt as cold as ice. Adam reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a small cell phone before dialing a number and holding it up to his ear. He waited a few moments, and when the automatic message came up, he began to record his message.

“Sarah.” He stated, his voice monotone and quiet. “I’ll be back at HQ in a little bit. I…have some new footage. You’ll see. Bye.”

#the mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue #tmc #mandela prophet #adam murray #jonah marshall #alternate gabriel #body horror #shmorp writes sometimes #blood tw #gore tw #tw character death #Adam has a bad day whoopsies #Maybe don't take apples from weird angel looking things. or anyone you don't know for that matter #Dummy. get spider'd idiot #This was mainly made to. add more details to how the parasite truly affects Adam cause. I didn't go into much detail in the og version #Up to you to decide which one you prefer but personally I like this one. /lh #Prophet Adam (tmc)

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fics-by-em · 10 months

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Amorous Facades - Chapter Eight

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

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previous chapter

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Note: All the comments on the last chapter had me feeling super motivated so this chapter came together a lot faster than normal and I thought I'd post it a couple of days early as a thank you for all the support! It really means so much to hear that people are enjoying the story, I love reading all your thoughts!

———-

Lia was truly gripped by fear that she’d ruined everything after the private kiss she’d shared with Jamie and the rejection that had followed - however reluctant her refusal may have been.

She knew Jamie well enough to know that he wasn’t used to being turned down and she’d assumed that he probably wouldn’t take very kindly to it, but it seemed his acting skills extended beyond just being a pretend boyfriend because by the time she’d followed him downstairs, there was no hint of obvious upset. For days, she waited with baited breath for his indignance to rear its head. For a petty comment, a cruel jab, any sign of retaliation. But nothing ever came.

And that led Lia to the only possible conclusion: she’d been right about Jamie’s intentions.

He wanted to forget. He wanted a distraction. He wanted the comfort of being wanted. He wanted the pride of impressing her with his skills and the reminder that he was talented despite the blow his ego had taken. But he didn’t want her. She would have just been a warm womanly body that he’d chosen because their agreement prevented him from going out to find someone more suited to his tastes and lifestyle.

He wasn’t bothered by her rejection because he wasn’t particularly bothered about her and the sting of that realization was bad enough to have her feeling grateful for the decision that she’d made to stop things going any further. She was in way too deep and clearly more invested than Jamie and she needed to start being a little more guarded if she wanted to get out of their mess unscathed.

She always wore her heart on her sleeve though and it was a constant struggle for her to keep her feelings hidden away. It was easier if she spent less time with Jamie so she found herself choosing to work late more often than not in an attempt to limit their time together. It hurt her to do so even if she felt it was for the best, but it only took him a few days to seemingly catch onto her plan.

“Ophelia!” Her dad called as he swung open the door of the office where she was sorting out the books that customers had placed a special order for. “There is a handsome, rich man here to see you!”

“There is? Who?”

“Well, that’s an interesting question,” her dad mused with an eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Do you have a lot of wealthy men pursuing you at the moment?”

“I hope not,” a familiar voice chimed in as Jamie poked his head around the door frame. “Not sure I wanna have any competition, babe.”

For a moment, Lia was a little surprised by his use of the pet name, but she quickly clued in that it was probably for her father’s benefit and flashed him a smile.

“Oh, hi, Jamie,” she greeted him. “No competition, I promise. Why would I need anyone else when I have you?”

“Wow,” her dad scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “That was impressively cheesy. We should get you writing romance novels instead of just selling them.”

“It’s easy to be cheesy when you’re in love.”

Jamie looked a little stunned by such a claim, but he managed to recover and shoot her a wink as her dad shook his head and turned back towards the door.

“Well, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it, just remember that those orders need to be sorted before you leave tonight,” he reminded her before looking back over his shoulder to flash Jamie a stern look. “And there are cameras in here so don’t get any wild ideas.”

“Dad!” Lia protested, feeling her cheeks heat up as he chuckled and hurried out the door. “Sorry about him, he just likes to stir the pot.”

“I noticed that. He gave me a bit of a hard time when I walked in, wanted to make sure I was taking good care of you and all that. And he made me agree to having dinner with him on Sunday so I guess we’ll be doing that.”

“Of course he did,” Lia rolled her eyes. “But whatever threats he made, I promise you he can’t follow through. He’s incredibly non-confrontational and I doubt he’s ever thrown a punch in his life.”

“It’s nice that he’s protective over you though, but I do have one question,” he paused and waited for Lia to look up from the pile of books in front of her before he asked, “Who the fuck is Ophelia?”

“I am,” Lia informed him, surprised by his confusion. “Ophe-lia. I just always go by Lia.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t even know my wife’s name,” Jamie groaned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t I? I guess I just assumed I told you the night we met,” she shrugged. “But even my dad rarely calls me Ophelia so it’s not a huge issue.”

“Isn’t it from that old book?”

His description of such a classic piece of literature had a laugh slipping from her lips as she nodded her head.

“Hamlet? Yeah, it is. But Ophelia’s the one who goes mad and kills herself after her dad dies so I always thought it was an odd choice. My dad swears they picked the name before I was born, but I think he went rogue after my mum died because he’s a huge Shakespere dork.”

“It’s pretty, it suits you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “I could have ended up as Rosencrantz or Guildenstern so I don’t think it’s too bad as far as names from Hamlet goes.”

“Rosencrantz,” Jamie scoffed out a laugh. “Fuckin’ hell, that would have been tragic.”

Despite their easy conversation, there was an air of distractedness around Jamie that seemed more noticeable with every passing minute. His hand drifted down to fiddle with a pen resting on the desk while his other picked at a loose thread on the bag strapped across his chest and Lia suddenly realized how strange it was for him to track her down at work.

“It would have been,” she agreed before broaching the subject. “But what brings you to our humble little bookshop this evening, Mr. Tartt?”

“I need your help,” he admitted. “I need a suit.”

“You don’t already have one?”

“Apparently not one that’s appropriate for a funeral…”

“Oh,” Lia frowned. “You’re going to a funeral?”

“Yeah, well, we are, if you don’t mind coming. The whole team will be there - including Keeley - so I think it would be good for you to come too. You know, to keep up appearances.”

“Of course, I’ll come with you,” Lia assured him, but there was a knot in her stomach as she asked, “Whose funeral is it?”

“Rebecca’s dad. We’re all going to support her, but I need help finding something to wear. Thought you might know, you know, with your experience.”

“My experience?” Lia raised an eyebrow until she realized what he meant. “Oh, you mean from when my mom died? I was literally a week old - if that - for her funeral so I have no memory of it at all, but I’m sure we can figure it out together.”

“Great, thanks, that would be great.”

His voice was soft and he seemed to be struggling to make eye contact, two very out of character things for Jamie that had Lia’s concern growing.

“Jamie, are you okay?”

Her gentle question caught his attention as he lifted his head to look at her.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he assured her. “It’s just weird, isn’t it? The whole death thing.”

“It is, it’s kinda scary to think about,” she agreed. “Did you know Rebecca’s dad well?”

“Didn’t know him at all really,” he admitted. “I think I met him once at a match, but I’m not even sure about that. It just got me thinking, hearing everyone talking about the funeral.”

“That’s understandable. It’s a hard thing to process, but it’s part of being human. It’s what makes it so important to appreciate the time you have because you never know when it will be over.”

Jamie took a moment to think over what she’d said before slowly nodding his head.

“I guess you’re right,” he accepted her answer. “So, you’ll help me find a suit?”

“Sure,” Lia nodded. “We can go tomorrow before you have training if you’d like to.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Jamie agreed before changing the subject. “So, what’s all this you’re doing?”

“Sorting out the custom orders,” Lia explained. “When people ask us specifically to order something that we didn’t have in stock. I’m almost done though, if you wanna help then maybe we could get some dinner after?”

It was counterproductive to her plan of creating some distance between them, but it seemed like whatever existential dread was plaguing Jamie had him in need of a friend as he flashed her a warm smile and eagerly agreed to her offer and Lia was powerless to resist the temptation of helping him through it.

——

The damage of Lia’s resistance to Jamie’s seduction became more obvious in the days leading up to the funeral. As something was clearly weighing on his mind, she’d expected him to turn to her - especially after they’d crawled into bed together - for the comfort that they’d so readily given each other in the past, but he made sure to keep his distance as if there was a physical wall between them. She couldn’t blame him after she’d laid down her boundaries and then avoided him, but she found it hard not to coax him into opening up to her.

She was starting to think that her plan to keep her feelings out of the situation was only making things more complicated.

And attending the funeral together only seemed to make things worse.

The moment they arrived at Richmond to meet the rest of the team, Jamie slipped back into his role as doting boyfriend. They had some time to socialize while they waited for the bus, but Jamie stayed by Lia’s side for every moment. At first, she was just grateful for the support - they’d been welcoming every time she met them, but being alone in a group of people she didn’t really know was always something that gave Lia anxiety - but as the time progressed, she found the edge of protectiveness in the gesture to be stirring up other feelings.

The way his hand never left her waist as she commiserated with Dani about the pain of their formal footwear. How he draped his arm around her shoulder as she asked Coach Beard about the novel on his desk. The nuzzle of his nose into her hair as she was asked to play mediator in a fierce debate about what happens when you die between Colin and Isaac. She knew that despite any past animosity, no one on the team would be disrespectful enough to make any kind of pass at her while she was with Jamie and she knew that he knew that too, but his need to make it clear at all times exactly who she was there with sent a tingle down her spine.

She was used to being independent and prided herself on that fact, but there was something about being so wanted - so openly claimed - that she was finding very irresistible.

By the time they arrived at the funeral and she managed to escape with Keeley, she was beginning to wonder how she’d ever had the willpower to turn Jamie down as she cursed him for being such a damn good actor. But as Lia was quickly finding to be a common occurrence, Keeley Jones was a perfect distraction. She’d led her to a separate area of the church where Rebecca was hiding out in search of a bit of peace, but it didn’t take long for her quiet moment of solace to be destroyed as Keeley had them howling with laughter as she regaled them with stories from her times attending church when she was younger.

But the distraction was somewhat short lived when Rebecca’s friend - Sassy - snuck through the door.

“I have been told to come in to ask you to lower your voices,” she warned them, forcing the trio to stifle their giggles. “But…I also brought this. Stole it from a little boy in a white robe.”

She pulled a bottle of wine out from behind her back earning more laughter from Lia and Keeley as Rebecca smiled with a shake of her head.

“No, Sass…”

Undeterred, Sassy simply shrugged and cracked it open, but Keeley was quick to come to her defense.

“No, this is good because we have some gossip to discuss and we might need something to loosen up some lips,” she smirked. “Shall we start with Lia?”

“Me?” Lia questioned, her shock clear in her voice. “What gossip do I have to share?”

“Well, Jamie came to talk to me yesterday,” Keeley informed the group. “And he told me that he kissed you!”

Lia felt a wave of dread wash over her, but Sassy raised her eyebrows in exaggerated surprise.

“She was kissed by her husband? What a scandal.”

“Ah, but he’s not her husband,” Keeley clarified with a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. “He’s not even her boyfriend, it’s just a PR stunt. Or that’s how it started.”

The look on Sassy’s face shifted into something more like intrigue than confusion, but as a dramatic ‘interesting’ slipped from her lips, Rebecca wasn’t so convinced.

“Yes, but he does kiss her all the time,” she pointed out. “That boy lays more affection on her than an overly excited puppy.”

“Only in public though,” Keeley insisted. “But this happened when they were alone.”

That seemed to sell Sassy and Rebecca on the fact that there was gossip to be had as they nodded their heads and looked at Lia expectantly.

“He did kiss me when we were alone,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t a big deal. It was after they lost that match and his dad was giving him a hard time. He was emotional and wanted comfort, but I reminded him that our arrangement is just business and nothing happened.”

Sassy seemed to accept her explanation, but the look on Rebecca’s face could only be described as skeptical and Keeley was absolutely not convinced.

“He told me that you’d said that, but I thought he was lying because I couldn’t possibly imagine why you would say such a thing!”

“Because it’s true,” Lia insisted. “He was just upset, it wouldn’t have been right to take advantage of him!”

“But you wanted to?” Sassy asked. “Are you hoping for an arrangement that’s a little more frisky?”

The question alone was enough to make Lia blush in a way that she was sure must have undermined the shake of her head.

“I don’t want to make things between us any more complicated than they already are.”

“That wasn’t a no,” Rebecca smiled. “Sometimes taking a risk on something complicated can lead to something really great.”

“And Rebecca would know all about that,” Sassy chimed in. “She’s been secretly shagging someone for months now.”

Lia was relieved that the attention seemed to be off of her as Rebecca’s jaw dropped and she let out a startled, “What?”

Seemingly distracted enough to forget about Lia’s little drama, Keeley eagerly jumped in as Sassy handed the wine to Rebecca.

“Let’s skip the part where you pretend you’re not, yeah?”

“What are you even talking about?”

It was an even weaker deflection than Lia’s and Keeley was - once again - ready to back up her claim.

“How about the bullshit text after the date, the fact that I have not seen you outside of work for two weeks, and that even though today is your father’s funeral, you are glowing like a girl who just got properly plowed.”

Her blunt honesty had Sassy dissolving into giggles and no matter how hard Lia tried to resist, she couldn’t help but join her until Rebecca’s shock gave way to a smirk.

“Shit…”

Her tone made it clear the word was an admission of guilt and Keeley and Sassy shrieked with glee as Lia laughed at their dramatic antics until Rebecca’s mother - Deborah - and Sassy’s daughter - Nora - rushed into the room.

“I’ve been asked to come in and tell you to lower your voices!”

Deborah was just repeating what Sassy had told them earlier, but Nora smirked as she added, “The vicar looked like he wanted to swear. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, of course,” Keeley assured her as Lia briefly wondered if they could be kicked out of a funeral. “We’re just trying to figure out who Rebecca’s shagging.”

Rebecca sighed and rolled her eyes, but to Lia’s surprise Deborah was just as eager to stir the pot as Keeley was.

“Oh, I know,” she informed them. “And it’s good.”

That claim caused another round of shrieks despite Rebecca’s weak protests until Sassy came up with a brilliant idea.

“Okay, hang on. Let’s play twenty questions!” Everyone eagerly agreed before Sassy got the ball rolling. “Is he tall?”

Rebecca reluctantly admitted that he was, but it seemed the game was entirely unnecessary after the next question that came out of Keeley’s mouth.

“Is it Sam?”

“How the fuck did you know that?”

Even Lia couldn’t resist letting out a squeal at that admission as it was such an unexpected and unbelievable answer, but the fun was shut down when the vicar stormed into the room.

“That’s it!” He snapped, getting everyone’s attention and immediately silencing the shrieks of laughter. “Everyone out except immediate family, please.”

“You are so bad,” Rebecca hissed to Keeley, but as Sassy pointed out that Keeley wasn’t the only one, Rebecca turned her attention to Lia. “Don’t breathe a word of that conversation to Jamie, please.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”

With that, she hurried out the door after Keeley and Sassy as they all took a minute to process the information they’d just been given.

“That is absolutely mental,” Sassy shook her head. “But good for her.”

“Seriously,” Nora nodded in agreement. “Boss-ass bitch.”

Sassy shot her daughter a warning look, but didn’t bother to scold her and Lia had almost forgotten how the entire conversation had started until Keeley circled back to it as they made their way back into the main part of the church.

“Okay, but we never got to the bottom of the Lia and Jamie situation!”

Immediately, Lia felt a knot in her stomach as Nora looked perplexedly between the women.

“What situation? We already know that she’s sleeping with him.”

Lia was caught off guard by how involved she was considering her age, but Sassy answered before she could organize her thoughts.

“Oh, you missed that part,” she smiled. “Turns out that Mr. and Mrs. Tartt are actually not a real couple.”

“What?” Nora’s eyes widened in shock. “I didn’t realize that one funeral could have so much juicy gossip.”

“We’re just friends,” Lia clarified. “I agreed to the whole thing to try and help salvage his reputation after he came back to Richmond.”

“But now they both have feelings for each other,” Keeley interjected. “And Lia won’t admit it.”

“I think Jamie is great,” Lia informed them, choosing her words carefully. “And I’ve grown very fond of him since we started our little arrangement, but he’s not interested in me romantically.”

“Well, then get that boy an Oscar,” Sassy demanded. “Because he had me completely fooled.”

“Me too,” Nora chimed in. “He looked smitten to me.”

“He is smitten,” Keeley eagerly agreed. “I know Jamie, I can tell. Plus, it says a lot that he respected your request for him not to sleep with anyone else. That boy has less restraint than a horny dog, but he’s hardly even glanced at another woman since he met you.”

The sincerity in her voice made it hard not to believe her, but the voice in the back of her head still warned her that it was all too good to be true and that indulging in the fantasy she’d created in her mind would just lead to her getting hurt.

“I’m not so sure,” she hesitated. “He is a good actor and it’s hard for me to know what’s real or if I’m just getting carried away with the charade.”

“Sounds like you need to have an honest conversation with him,” Sassy pointed out. “It’s no good living your life wondering ‘what if’. We’re at a funeral for christ’s sake, there’s no better reminder of the importance of seizing the moment before it’s too late.”

Lia’s eyes drifted over to where Jamie was standing across the room with his hand on Dani’s shoulder as he appeared to still be consoling him about the pain in his feet. It was sweet to see him be so supportive and it was even sweeter when he glanced over at her and shot her a wink when he caught her eye.

“You might be right,” Lia mused. “Maybe I’ll talk to him later.”

Even the weak promise was enough to earn another squeal from Keeley, but as the rest of the guests shot their little group some rather disparaging stares, she reigned it in as she whispered an apology and they headed to find somewhere to sit.

——

By the time the funeral was over, Lia was feeling very melancholic. Watching Rebecca be so overcome with emotion was tough and even though they’d all supported her through it with a little impromptu sing along of ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’, it seemed that everyone was feeling rather sombre by the time they went to the gathering at Deborah’s house afterwards.

But Lia was also feeling determined.

Sassy had been right. There was no point in spending the rest of her life wondering if giving Jamie a chance would result in her getting her heart broken and the reminder that no one ever knew when their end would come had her feeling inspired to live life with no regrets. If he turned her down or broke her heart then Keeley would just have to work her PR magic and dissolve their little arrangement, but the way that Jamie had held her hand so tightly throughout the entire eulogy had her feeling like that probably wouldn’t be necessary.

But Jamie was clearly distracted.

Lia put it down to the sobering reminder of their own mortality that the funeral had provided, but even as they mingled with the team and Rebecca’s family, it seemed like his mind was very much elsewhere. When she tried to broach the subject, he assured her that he was fine with a kiss to the top of her head, but they hadn’t been at the little gathering for long before he snuck away. Figuring that he just needed a moment alone with his thoughts, she wasn’t particularly worried, but when half an hour passed with no sign of him returning, she slipped away from her conversation with Higgins - the director of football operations at Richmond - to find him.

It took a few minutes considering the size of the house and the number of people, but she felt a wave of relief when she spotted the back of his head from across the room. As she walked closer she realized that he was deep in conversation with Keeley and from the look on her face over Jamie’s shoulder they were talking about something very serious. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but when she moved a bit closer she couldn’t help but hear the end of what Jamie was saying.

“I know this is a mad shitty thing to do, but I love you, Keeley.”

Immediately, a flush of humiliation washed over Lia as the confession she’d been planning to make to Jamie rang in her mind and had her heart clenching in her chest. Despite her brain telling her to get away from the situation before anyone noticed her, she was frozen in place until Keeley caught sight of her over Jamie’s shoulder and her eyes widened in surprise. Clearly catching the look on her face, Jamie spun around to face her as well.

“Shit,” he groaned. “Did you hear that?”

Keeley was frozen like a deer in headlights, but Lia simply forced a smile and nodded her head.

“Yes, I did,” she admitted. “But it’s fine.”

The silence that followed her words could only be described as awkward. Every moment that Jamie stood frozen - staring at Lia like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar - had Lia’s emotions rising, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and kept the smile plastered on her face until Keeley broke the silence with a softly mumbled ‘sorry’ before waving apologetically and walking away.

Jamie turned to watch her go, but it seemed her departure snapped him out of his daze as he stuttered and stumbled through several unfinished sentences until a sigh fell from his lips.

“No, it’s not.”

“It is,” she assured him. “It’s none of my business who you love, Jamie.”

“No, but it’s not…” Jamie trailed off as his eyebrows furrowed with the effort it was taking to find the words he was looking for. “It’s not like that.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” she insisted. “It’s all just business between us, right?”

She thought that the reminder would bring Jamie some relief and absolve him of any perceived wrongdoing, but for a brief moment a look that almost seemed like sadness flickered across his face. It was fleeting and Lia assumed it had more to do with her interrupting his moment with Keeley than her overhearing what he’d said.

“Sure, yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just business.”

Slipping his arm around her shoulder for the benefit of anyone watching, Jamie led Lia back towards the group of his teammates that she’d been talking to, but she found herself feeling very preoccupied.

In some ways, she was lucky - if she hadn’t heard what he’d said and had poured her heart out to him like she’d planned then she would have looked like an absolute idiot - but that didn’t stop the disappointment from plaguing her mind.

Jamie still loved Keeley.

Whether Keeley reciprocated those feelings or not - and Lia was fairly certain that she didn’t based on her solid relationship with Roy and the many conversations they’d had about her situation with Jamie - it meant that Jamie was not currently emotionally available to have feelings for her. She’d been right about their kiss being nothing more to him than a search for comfort and she hadn’t realized how badly she didn’t want that to be true until she had absolute confirmation that it was.

She managed to put on a brave face for the duration of the funeral and for the rest of the afternoon, but when they crawled into bed that night, Lia made sure to leave plenty of space between them and the next morning she found that for the first time since their arrangement had begun, she didn’t wake up wrapped around Jamie.

-----

chapter nine

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt x ofc #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso #amorous facades

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diazblunt · 10 months

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wip wednesday

tagged by @athenagranted <3

here’s a little snippet from the eddie turns into a cat and realizes his feelings for buck fic that should be up by the end of the week (hopefully)

Eddie glances at him then, mouth curling upwards in amusement at the sight of him gawking at the spread of candles in front of them. He bumps their shoulders together and bends down to blow out the candles.

“Fire hazard.” he shrugs and walks away, pointedly ignoring Buck staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

Buck catches up to him a moment later and yanks him by the arm, “You shouldn’t have done that.” he says with a low voice, eyes darting around the house like something could jump them at any moment.

“What,” Eddie laughs, pulling his arm out of Buck’s iron grip, “Should I have radioed for a firehose?”

“Not funny.” Buck huffs, eyes finally meeting his own.

Their faces are mere inches apart. Eddie tears his gaze away from the bobbing of Buck’s adam’s apple, eyes slowly drifting upwards to study the flare of his nostrils instead. It’s one of the things he’d always found so endearing about the man, how passionate he gets about things that Eddie could give fuck all about. Eddie forces himself to recover quickly, expertly crafting out the same shit-eating grin he does whenever he's about to pull the man's pigtails.

“Think we’ll get three wishes each?”

tagging: @shitouttabuck @housewifebuck @heartbeatdiaz @cowboy-buck @buckleydiazmp4 @demieddiediazz and anyone else that wants to do it

#writing games #my wips

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projectbluearcadia · 10 months

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Fear Nothing And Advance, Run Run Run

Diavolo: Barbatos, please, this is unnecessary...

Barbatos: My lord, I don’t think you understand the depths of just how bad this is.

Diavolo: There’s no reason to talk about “disposing” of Anne like she’s a threat.

Barbatos: The previous demon lord had people like her killed! Have you ever stopped to consider why that might be!?

Barbatos’ tail thrashes even as Diavolo’s eyes narrow.

Diavolo: I don’t base my decisions off of his.

Barbatos: I know how you feel about him. But a very long time ago, the entire Devildom was nearly enslaved by a Queen Succubus, and he took measures to stop it.

Diavolo: So what? Was she a good ruler?

Barbatos: That’s irrelevant. My lord, you cannot be subjugated by her.

Diavolo: I fail to see the problem.

Barbatos: Listen to yourself! You’re undermining your authority as prince! Don’t you realize that she could tell you to die, and the Devildom would be left without its ruler?! Your dreams would fall to dust! For the Devildom’s sake, you don’t even have an heir!

Diavolo: ...

Diavolo stares down at the table.

Diavolo: You... really don’t trust Annelie, do you?

Barbatos: Why would I? Her loyalty lies with Lucifer, not with you. If it ever happens that she has to choose between you two, she will inevitably choose him.

Diavolo: ...

Barbatos: Belphegor, stop eavesdropping and get in here.

Belphie: Geez, do you have eyes in the back of your head or something? Actually, no, don’t answer that.

Diavolo: Belphegor?

Belphie yawns and steps into the room, still in a maid uniform.

Belphie: Hi.

Diavolo: Did both of you recover?

Belphie: No, Barbatos just cut my balls off.

Diavolo: He what?

Belphie: I’m kidding. Though I almost wish he’d done that instead, honestly. That tea he made was hellish.

Barbatos: And it only lasts a week, so go back to the library.

Belphie: Well, about that. I think the last demon lord was pretty adamant that Queen Succubus records were destroyed, because there’s nothing in that library.

Barbatos: Nothing?

Belphie shakes his head, and Barbatos places his hand against his eyes and turns his head towards the ceiling with a sigh.

Barbatos: How are we supposed to receive an exchange student in this state...

Belphie: An exchange student?

Diavolo: You fell asleep during the meeting again, didn’t you?

Belphie: I haven’t been at the student council meetings in the past month, remember?

Diavolo: Ah... sorry. Well, I’m planning on bringing a normal human here.

Belphie: Define normal.

Diavolo: One that hasn’t been surgically altered by Solomon’s magic.

Belphie: Ah.

Diavolo: And the human exchange program will go on as planned. We’ve already pushed it back once, and I won’t have it delayed further. Anne’s name is still hot with gossip as a former human that earned her way into the court, and I fully intend to strike while they’re still talking about how attractive she is in her Devilgram photos.

Barbatos: But—

Diavolo: Annelie has nothing to do with this. We bring the candidate in by the end of next week.

Barbatos hesitates before he sighs.

Barbatos: I understand.

Diavolo: And bring me the paperwork to form the HDRA. Solomon can talk to me, but Anne stays in charge of the project. And I want you to tell her.

Barbatos: Nice try. She’s not getting her hands on me.

Belphie: ...text her, idiot.

Diavolo: That is what I meant.

Barbatos: ...apologies.

#poor barb #stop introducing new characters #obey me shall we date #fanfiction #shameless self indulgence #obey me angst #obey me diavolo #obey me #negotiation #LuciAnne

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kikokus · 1 year

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Sanji Since the Time-Skip, Part Eight (Chapters 810-813)

…So it’s been almost nine years. I’ve recently gotten back into One Piece and am caught up with the manga again, and since I’ve had some requests to continue this series (and there’s obviously been a lot of Sanji content in that time!) I thought I might as well go and do that!

This covers the few chapters of Zou but there’s actually a lot of great Sanji character moments within those four chapters so it seemed to make sense to keep it as its own section. As before, standard disclaimers apply.

[Part One] // [Part Two] // [Part Three] // [Part Four] // [Part Five] // [Part Six] // [Part Seven]

Let’s see if I still remember how to do this...

So not only does everyone seemingly accept that Sanji’s the obvious choice to fill the position of captain in Luffy’s absence, there’s actually an entire chapter named after ‘his’ crew which really emphasizes the point that we’re supposed to look at him as taking that leadership role for the time being.

And, because of that, most of the examples in this part have something to do with Sanji stepping into said leadership role, and that starts here once they can clearly see the city’s been destroyed and Sanji’s first reaction is to leave the others behind where it’s at least relatively safe and go off by himself to make sure he doesn’t put them in any danger.

Chopper threatens Caesar a lot during this part as well but with Sanji here you can tell how much emotion there is behind his words and how angry he is because at this point it’s not even a request anymore, it’s just an order. I really do like how this is set up because the reveal with Sanji’s new wanted poster being ‘only alive’ is before this, but there’s really no other indication as to what that means and once you find out more about his birth family it makes sense why he’s able to take charge as easily as he does.

But for as emotional as he’d been with Caesar, he recovers very quickly here and is the only one to point out that they shouldn’t let their guards down just because it seems like the enemy's gone. Caesar also tries to deter him from deciding to help the Minks by painting them as hostile towards humans and really, all Sanji has to go on right now is Law’s word that his crew is there so he has to make a decision on the spot as to whether trying to save them is a good idea.

Sanji being observant is nothing new but at least in this case we really don’t see what Wanda’s holding until he warns Nami so it’s revealing it to us as readers, too.

I like that this is stated so plainly because the last time we saw Sanji he was very adamant about escaping with Caesar and not letting Big Mom get her hands on him since that was the promise he made to Law, but now that Doflamingo’s been taken care of he sees that as going along with the fulfillment of said promise. He’s also obviously weighing the option of whether or not Caesar’s worth all of the potential trouble both to his crew and to the Minks (and being snarky while doing it, which I always appreciate.)

Though I think he quickly realizes that it’s not quite that simple as just handing Caesar over and being left in peace, and I feel like by this point it’s probably hard to keep track of all the people Luffy’s picked a fight with but Big Mom’s obviously a significant one and Sanji’s not ignoring that.

This is about the most authoritative we see him when it comes to giving orders and it’s very brusque while also keeping Nami and Chopper safe and shutting down any sort of wild ideas Caesar might have. The focus on the panel of him looking down at Bege and giving that little cocky nod is also some pretty great foreshadowing but has another purpose in showing us how easily he can slip into that sort of role when it’s needed.

Sanji doesn’t really have to say this because conceivably this negotiation doesn’t involve the Minks outside of Pekoms being there but once again it speaks to his inherent kindness that he doesn’t want to cause them any more trouble after what they’ve already been through.

This is more just about how well Sanji knows Luffy and knows that he would never agree to becoming a subordinate of one of the Yonko, but at this point I think he’s still trying to find a way for all of them (except Caesar) to get out of there safely. It’s also interesting that earlier we get Brook talking about vaguely about the Vinsmoke family and Nami remembering that Sanji had told them before he was born in the North Blue so it wasn’t as if he was afraid to share that part of his past, but that was as much as he was willing to divulge.

Sanji’s expressions in this chapter are so telling, and I think it’s very effective considering that we don’t know exactly what’s happening but we can tell from his reactions how serious it is and because he’s not saying anything one way or the other that’s all we have to go on. But this is where it turns from him wanting to escape with everyone to him realizing that, now that he’s been told Zeff’s in danger, that’s no longer an option and it’s more about getting the others out instead. There’s a panel directly after where he lights a cigarette which is a very classic ‘I need some time to think’ move from him as well.

That little sad smile says so much…he’s accepted his fate and is saying goodbye in the only way he knows how, and I think he’s being honest here: he never intended to hide anything because, for him, he’s left that part of his past behind and cut all ties with his family so he didn’t consider it a factor or something to dwell on but now circumstances have made it impossible to ignore.

His dialogue goes with what I was saying earlier but I really put this here because it shows him using Observation Haki again and while he can’t say for sure that it’s the Minks, he knows they’re likely the most powerful beings left on the island and he’s willing to take that chance if it means getting the others to safety. I’ll also point out that through this entire section he never even tries to frame it as just ‘getting Nami out’; he wants all of them out of there and goes so far as to hug them (even if it’s with the excuse of making it easier to toss them all out at once).

Sanji’s definitely taking a chance here but even with the little he’s been told about the current situation it’s one he can afford to take because it’s not as if he doesn’t know what Judge is like and he can already infer that Big Mom has some sort of use for Caesar so threatening him is about the easiest way to make his point and gain the upper hand for just long enough to do what he needs to.

And I think Sanji’s also banking on Bege being smart enough to realize that, too (which he does) so while there was a lot that could have gone wrong he’s managed to accomplish his goal of making sure the rest of the crew is safe. If you look closely at some of the panels in this section there’s these little double curved lines around Sanji which are usually an indication of trembling/shivering but even though he’s obviously emotional he’s still holding it together enough to at least make it seem like he’s in control.

I’ve seen some comments that after so long Sanji should know the crew would back him up regardless of what trouble he’s in but Sanji’s nothing if not consistently self-sacrificial and this time, because it’s dealing with a part of his life that’s existed since long before he met any of them, I think he truly does see it as something he needs to do on his own. His smile still hurts me, though.

…And that’s the end of this section! That…probably went on longer than it needed to but I guess it proves that almost a decade later I still have a lot to say about Sanji so please feel free to like/reblog if you found this interesting at all and we’ll…see about working on the next part…

#one piece #sanji #sstts #nobody remembers this series but...it's back...

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thebadgerclan · 2 years

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Invisible Scars: Chapter 2

Pairing: Rhysand x reader

Chapter Summary:

This chapter deals with PTSD and past sexual abuse

It had been nearly a month since Rhys had returned home, and things had been going well. He had his difficulties, but for the most part, he was happy. Nights were a struggle; he would wake screaming, cringing from your touch until he realized where he was and who you were. He would mumble in his sleep: “No more,” “Stop,” “Please, no.” Your mate hadn’t told you everything that had happened Under the Mountain, but you knew that he’d been forced to sleep with Amarantha which had made deep and painful scars in your mate’s mind.

If you brought up his time Under the Mountain, Rhys was quick to change the topic, but you knew that when he was ready to talk, he would. For three weeks, you’d managed to keep any official Court business from your mate, allowing him the time he needed to rest, recover, and readjust to life, but after those three weeks, papers had piled up that needed Rhys’ attention, and your mate was growing a bit restless.

You’d been a bit of a mother hen, ensuring he got enough rest and ate enough. It was clear that there was a long road ahead in terms of healing, but Rhys was eager to get back to his normal life. And for the most part, he was, but since his return you’d been considerate of your mate’s…experiences. Despite the need that thrummed in your veins, you didn’t initiate sex. Rhys hadn’t explicitly told you that he wasn’t comfortable with sex, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.

But your desire won out in the end. When you climbed into bed one night and Rhys kissed you, you deepened the kiss, sending your feelings of want and love down the bond. Your mate reciprocated, rolling atop you after pulling your nightgown over your head. “Rhys,” you sighed as your mate kissed down your neck. “Rhys…are you sure?” He paused, leaning on his elbows above you. “I’m sure, Y/N. I want this too.” With his consent, you kissed him again, needily pushing his pajama pants down his hips.

Your mate’s wings flared, and he ran a hand down your body, goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch. Rhys bent to kiss your neck, his teeth scraping gently over the junction between your neck and shoulder, and you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders. He sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t one of arousal or lust. Rhysand was no longer in your bedroom with you, he was Under the Mountain; it wasn’t you beneath him, it was Amarantha.

He pushed himself off of you, his wings vanishing as a sob broke from his lips. “Rhys?” you asked, sitting up, any trace of arousal fading. “Rhys, darling, what’s the matter?” His eyes were dark, a sheen of sweat covered his skin, and he was trembling. “No,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “No, please, no.” You reached for your robe and hurriedly pulled it over your shoulders, crawling closer to your mate. But Rhys flinched at your approach, and you held your hands up.

“Ok, ok, I won’t come any closer,” you said, keeping your voice soft and calm. Whatever was going on in Rhys’ mind, it was causing him pain, and you gently tapped at his mental shields. Whether he let them down for you or they were weakened by his pain, his adamant shields crumbled, and you saw what was playing out before your mate’s eyes. Amarantha was beneath him as he thrusted into her, and Rhys forced himself to keep his disgust behind his shields.

“Mmm, just like that Rhysand. You know how I like it.” He did, and he hated that he did. All Rhys could think about was how he was dishonoring his mate, how he’d buried the bond so deep in himself to protect her. Amarantha raked her razor-sharp nails down his back, hard enough to draw blood, and smiled when Rhys grimaced. She got off on his pain, he knew that, but the sooner she came, the sooner Rhys could go. Go back to his room and cry himself to sleep, dreaming of his mate.

“Oh, darling,” you breathed, feeling tears build in your eyes. But you would be strong, you needed to be strong for Rhys. “Sweetheart, can you look at me? Look at me, Rhysand, look at me.” Tentatively, you reached out and took his hand. Your mate flinched, but let you hold his hand, and you squeezed it gently. “Rhysand, my love, look at me, please. Please, my love.”

He lifted his head to find you kneeling before him, draped in your silk bathrobe. “Rhysand,” you said, taking his other hand. “You are home. You’re here in Velaris, in the Night Court. I am here, Y/N’s here, your mate is here. Amarantha is dead, she can’t hurt you, she can’t hurt anyone anymore. I’m here, and you are safe.” You watched as Rhys took in your words, and he flung himself into your arms.

You held him close as he cried, his wings reappearing and draping limply on the bed. “It’s alright,” you soothed, rubbing his back softly, careful to keep your palm flat. “Let it out, Rhy. I’ve got you.” Your mate let himself break, knowing that you would be there to put him back together. When he calmed enough to speak, Rhys’ first words were, “I’m sorry,” and your heart broke all over again.

“Why are you sorry?” you asked, and your mate sniffled. “Because the first time we try to have sex, I freak out. People expect me to be fine, you expect me to–” “Let me stop you there,” you said, resting a hand on his chest. “I expect nothing from you, Rhysand. Absolutely nothing, especially this. You have endured things that no one should have to go through, and you survived. You survived, my love, and I will thank the Mother for that for the rest of my life.

“There are no expectations, Rhys, not when it comes to sex, not when it comes to you recovering, not with anything. Whatever you need, I am here. If sex isn’t on the table yet, that’s fine, if you need to sleep in a different room, that’s fine, if you need to talk, that’s fine. Anything, Rhys, anything you need, I am here.” Fresh tears had fallen, and you wiped them away gently. The thought of sleeping apart from you was unbearable, and Rhys snuggled into your chest.

“I can’t bear to be apart from you,” he said, and you nodded, trailing a finger down his cheek. “You don’t have to be, Rhys. You never have to be away from me ever again.” Your mate inhaled your scent deeply, and it served to calm him, to soothe his racing heart and frayed nerves. You laid down, Rhys curled up to your chest, and you kissed his forehead. “Try to rest, my love. I’ll be right here. I love you.” “I love you too,” Rhys replied, and while it took a while, he eventually nodded off.

#rhysand x reader #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses reader insert #invisible scars #tw: past abuse #tw

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wayhavenots · 1 year

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Stupid Cupid (5/5)

Finally lol. Sorry about all the sneak peeks that didn't end up in the finished product. I got really ambitious about making this fic a whole treatise about love in all of its forms, and then I...changed my mind. I don't know how I feel about this anymore, but I'm happy it's done (and hope you enjoy it)!

Series Synopsis: A mysterious supernatural baby appears in Wayhaven. While Unit Bravo tries to reunite the child with his family, Avery is forced to confront her feelings about love.

Part Synopsis: Nate and Avery talk, sort of.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2993

[This is on AO3]

Nate had been in love before. In the same way that he had been in Paris or Germany or Persia, taking in the sights and sounds and people, collecting souvenirs and happy memories, knowing that he would eventually leave.

Especially Persia, where he and Adam spent three months more than a century ago. Even his mastery of Farsi, his deep study of the culture, and his family ties couldn't make him less of a stranger in the homeland of his long-departed father. He enjoyed his stay immensely; but he was little more than a tourist, and he had hoped, perhaps foolishly, to find something more. Something he’d been missing.

He remembered recounting the tale—his travels, not his past relationships—to Avery not long after the mess with the Annunaki. She’d sat down beside him in the library, intense brown eyes locked on his face as though she could see every one of his thoughts written there.

Too much space between them, and fear prickled in his chest that he had ruined everything already. She felt underestimated, if the words she'd yelled in frustration at the Annunaki were anything to go by. She didn't know that she was already everything to him. He didn't realize himself until he was begging her to hide, to run, seeing his life flash before his eyes as someone else he loved….

“Will you tell me something?” asked Avery, breaking him out of his heavy thoughts with her gentle voice.

“I could tell you many things,” he offered, with a smile that he hoped conveyed even a fraction of all that he wanted to tell her. “Is there something in particular you had in mind?”

She shook her head, resting her cheek against the back of the couch. “Just…something about yourself. Something I don’t know.”

He could have tried to explain. That when their eyes met, he saw everything he'd been looking for, felt everything he'd been missing. Belonging, understanding, a home. Something he'd never felt with anyone else. That to lose her would be unbearable.

Instead—because there was more than one way to lose Avery—he told her a story about Persia, about searching and not finding. And she listened. Understood. Told him about taking Mandarin classes in college out of some futile effort to feel a connection to the father she never knew, either. Little by little, peering over the wall of sarcasm and humor she usually hid behind, not so dissimilar from the wall he had around himself.

It was a sweet memory to occupy his thoughts as he read through his books on the Eri. There were few, and none of them mentioned the pain that Avery had been feeling since returning the baby Eros to his mother.

You will recover, child, the goddess had said. But when? How?

At his frustrated shut of the latest disappointing book, Farah gave him a sympathetic pat on the knee. "I know you’re worried about Avery, but don't take it out on your innocent books, Natey."

He sighed. “You’re right. Have you found anything on the…Internet?"

Farah shook her head, not bothering to hide a chuckle at his distaste for technology. “But I’m sure she’ll be fine in no time! The power of love and all that.” She grinned at Nate, who smiled back, but Farah frowned suddenly, unconvinced at his expression. “What’s up with you two, anyway? And don’t deny it, I could feel it when she was here. Fear.”

"She thinks that what I feel for her was influenced by the Eros,” explained Nate softly. “And of course she would be cautious. She's been hurt in the past." He tried to control the edge which threatened to slip into his voice; he still had a hard time conceiving of somebody as singularly vile as Robert Marks, although he would readily admit to some bias on his part.

“I get that,” said Farah through an uncharacteristically bitter chuckle. His heart twisted, remembering the ways that she’d been hurt and misled in the past as well. “But what I meant was…you. You were afraid. She wanted to talk, finally, and you were afraid.”

“I wasn’t—” He wasn’t sure why he was trying to deny it.

“You are,” she insisted. “I heard it. It was kind of adorable, both of your hearts going at the same time like that.” Her amber eyes looked back at him, warm and kind. "So what are you afraid of, Natey?"

Nate let out a sigh of his own, defeated. “I’m afraid that the intensity of my feelings will scare her away. Or that they already have.”

Farah straightened in her seat, a surprisingly pleased smile on her face. “Well, somebody old and wise once told me that you have to be open with your feelings. You’d rather know if she got scared away, even if it hurts in the beginning. A lot.”

It would destroy him. (Which was, admittedly, what Farah had said when he’d given his advice.)

“But,” added Farah, “that seems about as likely as Adam eloping with somebody from Unit Alpha. She just wants certainty, so give her some certainty.”

Nate chuckled. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m an expert at this kind of thing. I know everything to avoid.”

A surge of affection for his friend warmed his heart. “ You just haven’t found anyone good enough to deserve you, Farah. How are you doing with all of this, anyway?” He felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t asked before; he’d been so wrapped up in his own feelings with Avery. “The situation with the Eros?”

“It turned out good. Really good. I didn’t think his mom would make it through, and he’d be stuck here…” A flash of pain, followed by a flash of a too-bright smile. “I’m glad she did. But you and Avery were good parents in the meantime. And your nerdy little babies will be sooo adorable.”

“We’re a long way from anything like that,” he said, deciding not to pry much further. “But whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you, Farah…even if here is somewhere else.”

“And even if Avery has to help you answer my phone calls,” she chirped, before wrapping him in a hug. “Love you, Natey. Avery, too. With my help, I think you two could get through anything.”

By the morning, he and Farah—and Morgan, who had agreed to help because she was bored, and Adam, who didn’t like seeing Nate in such distress, although he didn’t say as much—had found nothing to help Avery. As they prepared breakfast and Nate wrestled with his phone to extend a tentative invitation, his phone pinged.

"Is it her?” asked Farah, nearly spilling the blood bags as she rushed to his side to get a glimpse of the text message. “What'd she say?"

It took him several minutes to navigate to the text. In the mean time, Farah and Morgan negotiated a bet of five dollars on its contents. (A heartfelt declaration of love, or a risque photo.)

In the end, the text said, "good morning!", which disappointed the two younger vampires. But just the exclamation mark at the end of her message had a smile spreading wide across his face.

"GOOD MORNING, AVERY," he sent in response.

A few moments later: "is your keyboard stuck or are you just happy to see my text?"

"I’M VERY HAPPY TO SEE YOUR TEXT! 😊😁😍🤩🤪😇😶😔☺️😗☺️😜😊"

He cursed under his breath as he finally hit send, not sure how to get back to the letters to tell her that, by coincidence, his keyboard was also stuck, this time on the little emotion faces. Oh, he didn't like this at all. And now—

His train of thought was pleasantly derailed when his phone rang and, blessedly, he was able to (with Farah’s help) swipe the correct icon to answer in time.

"I must say,” he answered, “I much prefer this to texting."

She chuckled on the other end, the sound sweet and warming. "Yeah, you s-seem like you're having trouble, there."

"Well, I was until you called," he said with a smile. “Hearing your voice, all my troubles seem to melt away.”

Behind him, Morgan made a fake retching noise. Nate quickly moved out of the kitchen, finding himself wandering back in the direction of the library.

"S-smooth," said Avery on the other end. He could hear her smile. That, and the slight chattering of her teeth.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"A l-little," she admitted. "Side effect of the Eros."

Nate frowned. "Another side effect?"

"P-part of the same one,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s kind of like what h-happens to stars. White d-dwarfs start out hot, b-but they don’t generate energy, so they eventually c-cool down until they no longer emit any energy or l-light. It’s what w-will happen to the Sun when it…”

His frown deepened as he tried to follow, not liking where her words were leading. “When it dies?”

“Yes, but I’m n-not… It’s not the same scale. It doesn’t matter.”

He forced frustrated fingers through his hair. "It matters. You matter, Avery. You’re—”

"I know," she said softly. "I know. I'm sorry. Will you come here and see that I’m f-fine? I’ll even fix your keyboard for you. And I’m r-ready to talk."

Was he?

Avery answered the door with a winter coat around her shoulders, shivering in spite of the heat of her apartment. His concern deepened, alleviated only somewhat by the smile with which she greeted him.

"Help me t-test a hypothesis?" she asked, beckoning him inside.

Her home was clean, he saw, which made his brow furrow. She'd vacuumed. Taken out the trash. Organized.

And where were…? Had she seen…?

Avery lifted her hands, ice-cold, to cup his face, and the thoughts froze in their tracks. He appreciated the power of language, but she spoke with a touch that was softer than her often sharp tongue. It didn't matter what had happened with the notes he had left; they were ink and paper, and Avery, intoxicating Avery, held his face and heart in her hands.

He brought his hands up to cover hers, in an effort to warm them, in an effort to keep her close.

"This doesn't hurt?" he asked, eyes fixed on hers for confirmation.

Avery shook her head, still smiling. "No."

"And…this?"

He released her fingers so that he could hold her face between his palms, tilt her head back slightly so he could gaze into her eyes. Her cheeks were cold, just as her hands were, but they were warming beneath his touch as her heartbeat picked up speed.

"That doesn't hurt either," she murmured, her breath visible in the air between them.

Nate dipped his head low, lips hovering above hers. "And…this?"

She raised onto tiptoes to meet him the rest of the way, lips meeting in a slow kiss he never wanted to end. He could feel the blood returning to her cheeks, the ice melting, and oh, if this love wasn't magic—

"Nate," she exhaled, briefly breaking from his lips. "This all supports my theory quite nicely."

He liked this theory, whatever it was. "But we could benefit from more data collection, don't you think?" he murmured.

"Just to be sure,” she agreed, voice breathy. She pulled at the fabric of his shirt, dragging him down for another series of kisses, which he was happy to deliver.

"Just," kiss, "to be," kiss, "sure."

Before any further data could be collected, Beethoven's Fifth Symphony rang out ominously from her pocket.

Avery groaned. “Work. Let me just get rid of…”

She pulled the offending device from her pocket and pressed it to her ear. "Detective Lin is off-duty and cannot come to the phone right now," she said mechanically into the phone. "Please leave a message after the—"

"Lin,” he heard the captain grumble on the other end, “if you still want a job at all, I expect to see you in my office within the hour."

She shrugged off her coat with a sigh. "I don't know what he expects me to do, but… Come with me? I really do want to talk."

And they talked, hands twined together as they made the short walk to the station.

"I’m sorry,” she said softly. Nate’s mind raced with possibilities for the rest of that sentence. “For being so…impossible. About my feelings. About your feelings.”

“It’s understandable,” he assured her automatically.

“But you’re uncommonly understanding, Nate. I don’t have a lot of practice being…loved.” She spoke the word as though she’d only seen it written. “Not in a way that doesn’t hurt. Not in a way that doesn’t fade, or wasn’t real to begin with. So I got scared. The way you knew I would be.”

“I truly did not mean for my feelings to overwhelm you, Avery,” he said softly. “Or to come out in the way that they did. Before you were ready to hear them."

A smile twitched on her lips. “Did you have a different way in mind? Because…” She reached into her hoodie pocket and extracted a carefully rubber-banded collection of receipts and napkins and sticky notes, which she held up with a lifted brow.

His eyes scanned her face for any hint of displeasure at the discovery, but he was relieved to see her still smiling. “You found them.”

“You’ve been writing these for over a month, Nate. And I didn’t notice. How can you stand me?”

“I believe it’s all detailed here,” he said with a chuckle, tapping the bundle lightly with his index finger. “And you’ll find some more around your office, if you’re still not convinced.”

Avery shook her head, dark eyes alight with the same type of wonder she reserved for astronomy documentaries and constellations. It was an expression that never failed to take his breath away. “No, I’m convinced. I shouldn’t have needed proof, more proof, but you gave it to me anyway.” She pressed the papers carefully back into her pocket, dark brown eyes never leaving his. “You really love me, Nate.”

“I really love you,” he confirmed, warmth flooding his chest at the sensation of finally saying the words aloud—and at seeing them so well-received by his sweet detective, her heart normally so guarded. He reached for her hands, lifted them to his lips. "I love you so deeply, so fully, that I can’t always contain it. It’s not in my nature to contain it. But I didn’t want to frighten you with something you weren’t ready to hear, so I wrote it down in little pieces. Mostly to keep myself from shouting it from the rooftops.” He could hear the quick beat of her heart at his passionate confession, which spurred his own heartbeat in a mix of giddiness and nerves. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to say anything or do anything, Avery,” he added. “I’ve waited three hundred years to feel this way about someone, and I can certainly wait for you to feel the same.”

So much for not overwhelming Avery, whose eyes widened slightly at the words three hundred years .

“Nate,” she began, “I—”

“Hey, Detective Lin!”

Avery pinched the bridge of her nose at the interruption, sighing with a frustration that Nate shared. “Give me five minutes, Douglas."

The young officer, who'd emerged from the station, looked between Avery and Nate, failing to mask the envy in his eyes. “Captain Sung wants to see you, Detective,” he said finally. “Right away. Something about today’s paper.”

Avery pursed her lips. "Don't want to miss that."

“I suppose that means Bobby is feeling better,” Nate offered optimistically.

Avery shook her head. “It’s really impossible to tell with him.” Her eyes settled on Nate, and her expression softened, the tension seeming to melt away. “I don’t want to be like that.”

“I don’t think you’re anything like Bobby Marks,” interjected Douglas loyally.

Avery sighed. "Look, kid, I'll be right—"

"Avery!" exclaimed yet another voice, this time from the parking lot. It was Tina, looking cheerful. "Sorry to leave you all by your lonesome last week, but—oh, am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," said Nate, although the answer was yes. He wasn't sure this was the right venue for this conversation, anyway. “Why don’t we continue our discussion tonight?”

“If Captain Sung hasn’t lit me on fire for my smart mouth? It’s a date.”

Nate smiled. "I happen to enjoy your smart mouth."

Avery tugged on his shirt to bring him towards her for a quick kiss goodbye, a request he was more than happy to oblige—once, twice, five, six times, until Tina gave a low whistle.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, the only way he knew to keep from reaching out again. “As much as I'd rather continue distracting you, I—"

He was surprised to find that his right pocket crinkled against his fist. He pulled out a white envelope he’d never seen before, although he recognized the handwriting on the outside: pointed, small, and a little bit messy. To: Nate. From: Avery.

Avery, he saw, was watching him with a small smile.

“Captain Sung’s always telling me to be careful about the things I say on the record,” she said, as though in explanation, before turning to walk through the station doors. “Have a good day, Agent Sewell,” she called over her shoulder.

Nate watched the doors shut behind her before he set to opening the envelope, careful not to rip it in his eagerness. Inside was a piece of paper folded into thirds, both sides covered in Avery’s familiar print. He didn't try to fight the smile that spread across his face—a smile he could feel even in his chest, in his fingers and toes—as he read and reread the precious words.

Dear Nathaniel Henry Sewell,

I hope you’ll excuse the use of your full name here. Can't have this falling into the wrong hands. It is a love letter, after all...

#twc fic #nate x detective #nate x avery

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ollieofthebeholder · 9 months

Text

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 40: January 2017

“Look, I’m not arguing with you that you don’t take decorations down before the sixth, I’m just saying—”

“No, you don’t take them down until after the sixth, you have to go all the way through Epiphany.”

“Then we should still have taken them down before we left.”

“It’s still the sixth!”

“And we won’t be in until Monday!”

“Which is after the sixth. It doesn’t have to come down on the seventh.”

Sasha sighed. “I think Jon and Martin are just using the whole ‘we don’t want to tip Elias off that we’re all going to the same place’ thing as an excuse not to have to listen to this argument.”

Tim snorted. “You’re just saying that because you’re wrong.”

She swatted him, but he suspected she was too glad he was poking at her to be really annoyed.

He genuinely hadn’t realized how stressed and upset he’d been until he walked into the Archives to find it decked out like it was going to be the site of Fezziwig’s Christmas ball. It must have taken Sasha—and, as he later found out, Gerry—most of the weekend to set up. Even then he’d held it together until Sasha told him why she’d done it, at which point he wasn’t particularly ashamed to admit he’d broken down sobbing and ended up at the bottom of a hug pile.

They were just lucky Elias hadn’t come down to be a dick.

Christmas was over now, or would be after today—Tim was adamant about that—but oddly, he didn’t feel as flat as he normally would when the lights and garlands started coming down. Normally he threw himself into planning for Valentine’s Day or Pancake Day, depending on which was earlier and how much he wanted to torment his coworkers, as a way to distract himself from the end of the season, but this year, there wasn’t a need for that. Partly it was that he still wasn’t entirely recovered from…well, everything. Partly it was that he didn’t feel so much like things were ending—only beginning. Mostly, though, it was that they were busy.

Cinnamon Rose Books still had a wreath hanging on the door, along with a few other decorations, and Sasha took one look at it, then stepped to the far side of the threshold before pressing the bell. Tim was about to ask her why when Gerry opened the door, glanced up briefly, then grabbed Tim, dipped him, and kissed him thoroughly.

“Hi,” he said when he let him up for air.

“Hi,” Tim said, a bit breathless and dizzy. Then he noticed the sprig of mistletoe directly over where he’d been standing. “Oh. How long has that been there?”

“Since we decorated. You just usually don’t stand under it when you knock.” Gerry smirked at him, then stepped back. “Come on in. The others are upstairs. Please get up here before they start playing their damned music.”

Sasha coughed. Tim was pretty sure it was to hide a laugh. “Sinner’s Gin again?”

“No, it’s that fucking steampunk space pirate band. Apparently they’ve got a new album or something coming out in a couple weeks, and Melanie’s heard some of it but Jon hasn’t. I kind of tuned the explanation out,” Gerry confessed under his breath. “They’ve been talking about it for the last twenty minutes.”

Tim couldn’t help but laugh himself. “Lead on, then. Let’s get this party started.”

Something smelled good—like someone was baking pies—and as they headed up into the living part of the shop, Tim noted the garland, tinsel, and small live tree still shedding its needles gently in the corner. “You haven’t taken the decorations down yet,” he said, with a note of triumph. Sasha rolled her eyes at him.

“That’s Neenie’s thing. Decorations stay up until the second of February. You’ll have to ask her about it. As long as she helps with the breakdown, I don’t really care, honestly.” Gerry led them into the kitchen. “Okay! They’re here. Can we talk about literally anything else now?”

“I’m just saying, the evidence is not on the side of a happy ending.” Jon spoke with the air of one scoring a point in some ineffable debate.

“Yeah, you’re right, but I can dream, can’t I?” Melanie looked up from where she was setting the table and offered Sasha a half-smile. “Hey.”

“Hey. Why do the decorations have to stay up until second February?” Sasha gave her a smile that was so obviously an imitation of Tim’s over-the-top flirting that Jon actually snickered.

Melanie shrugged. “That’s just how my mother did it. Decorations go up four Sundays before Christmas and stay up until Candlemas. Don’t ask me what Candlemas is, because I have no clue.”

“Presentation of Jesus at the temple,” Tim said automatically. “It’s the end of the Epiphany season and the start of Ordinary Time.”

“You grew up Catholic, right?” Gerry tossed that off over his shoulder as he headed to the fridge. “Beer, anyone?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tim said, a bit disquieted. He didn’t think he’d ever mentioned that to anyone, and he hadn’t set foot in a confessional since joining the Institute. He and God were on better terms than they’d been after Danny died, or at least he thought they were, but he didn’t quite know where he stood with the Church. “Uh, how’d you know that?”

“Guessed. You said your grandparents came over from Italy during the war. Balance of probability was that they were either Catholic or atheists, and you know too much about religion to be an atheist.” Gerry handed him a stout. “Always a bit jealous of people who had belief in something like that. Something good, rather than…” He waved vaguely, encompassing himself, Jon, Martin, and the general situation they found themselves in.

Tim raised an eyebrow at him and gestured pointedly at Melanie and Martin. “You don’t believe in anything good?”

Gerry smiled, if a bit reluctantly. “Yeah, okay, point.”

Martin shook his head, a fondly exasperated look in his eyes. “Sit down and eat.”

Melanie pulled a box of matches out of a drawer. “Anything come close to you lot lately?”

“Nothing in person,” Jon said, glancing around at the others. “At least not in the Archives.”

“Or the tunnels,” Martin said. “We’ve…been staying to the first level. Haven’t noticed the walls moving around so much.”

Sasha shook her head. “No new encounters for me. What about you, Tim?”

Tim thought over the last few days. “Can’t think of anything. Just the usual, then.”

Melanie nodded and lit four candles—one for the Eye, one for the Stranger, one for the Spiral, and one for the Hunt. They weren’t concerned about the Corruption so much these days, not with Jane Prentiss dead and out of the way; they hadn’t seen anything of the Web since the attack, and if Martin said he wasn’t worried about the Buried, Tim trusted him. Most of the other entities hadn’t really bothered them.

Tim still thought they should maybe be warding off the Slaughter, but both Melanie and Jon insisted they hadn’t seen anything of it since they got back from Sheffield, so he’d dropped that argument some weeks ago.

The gatherings had been Jon’s idea. At first they’d shared information piecemeal, in stolen moments here and there, hoping for times when Elias was distracted or talking around things they didn’t want him to know about, like that Melanie and Gerry were helping them. (It had been a long time since Tim had believed Elias’ nothing escapes my notice to be anything but literal.) After an attempt to have a hurried debriefing in the tunnels during which they all tried to talk at once and Martin came away with a headache so bad he had to lie down the rest of the afternoon, Jon had suggested they move the discussions to a time and place they could be sure of being unobserved, and where the whole group could participate. Gerry had offered up his rooms on the basis that the shop could provide a good cover if anyone wanted to know where they were going—it wasn’t so unusual for people from the Magnus Institute to go to a place like that, especially if they were doing research—and with the wards in place, they could be reasonably certain they were safe.

Melanie, it turned out, had picked up takeaway from a particular restaurant a few blocks away that was, or so she swore, the only place in London that did a proper char siu. Tim observed the way all three of them handled the chopsticks and asked, “Another tradition?”

“Hmm?” Martin frowned for a second, then his eyes cleared as he swallowed the bite in his mouth. “Oh, the meal? No, not really. Melanie just really likes Mr. Zhang’s recipes, so it’s kind of our go-to when none of us feel like cooking.”

“Just wanted to make sure.” Tim was still sorting out what the three of them did because it was helpful or protected them and what they did because it was comfortable and familiar. He was also finding that he liked being looped into their traditions. That, as much as anything else, had gone a long way towards soothing his anxieties and settling his anger over the last few weeks.

They lapsed into silence for a while, broken only by the clinking of silverware against plate. Gerry waited until Melanie and Jon were finished with a playful duel with their chopsticks over a particularly large snow pea before he said, “Right, who wants to start?”

Jon sighed. “I suppose I will. I’ve been going through Gertrude’s laptop.”

“How’d you get into it?” Sasha asked, surprising Tim, who had assumed Jon had asked her.

Jon looked slightly sheepish. “I, er, I posted on a few tech-oriented forums asking about statements. A woman came by yesterday to give one, and while she was there, I asked her to take a look at it. Pretended I’d locked myself out somehow.”

“Probably deleted a bit of code in the administrative permissions. Not hard if you know what you’re doing,” Sasha mused. She caught Tim’s look and added, “I’m the one who told him to find another way in, Tim. It’s not that I didn’t want to know, it’s just, well, I didn’t want to tempt myself to start digging for those secrets instead. Besides, the more Elias thinks Jon doesn’t trust us with his investigations, the more protected we’ll all be from his snooping, right?”

“Point,” Tim admitted.

Martin exhaled slowly. “Christ, Jon, I wish you’d told us…what was it? Her statement?”

“Ah, I’m—I’m not altogether sure, actually. S-something about a parser bot, um, Sergey Ushanka?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that one,” Sasha said. “Guy who allegedly tried to upload his brain into a computer to cheat death, managed it, found out it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and now chats with people and slowly goes mad over the course of it, right? ‘The angles cut me when I try to think.’” She uttered this in a cartoonishly spooky voice, wiggling her fingers dramatically.

Nobody else laughed. Jon nodded, unsmiling; Gerry scowled. “I’ve heard that name. Where have I heard that name before?”

“Your dad’s notebook. The one you used to work out the wards and shanty combos,” Melanie said. She laid her chopsticks down, very carefully, like she was afraid she might break them if she didn’t. “That was on the last page he’d written on. Some shop in Soho he reckoned might have ‘the last piece of Sergey Ushanka’.”

“Right. We never understood what that meant.”

“It’s an old urban legend,” Jon said. “According to Ms. Winters, anyway. She says it dates back to 1983, to the early days of home computers. First the story said he coded his brain onto floppy disks, then CDs, then finally uploaded directly onto the web. I can’t help but wonder if they’re all true, in their own way.”

Martin drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, his eyes going vacant. “Ger, how old were you when your dad died?”

“Four or five. Don’t really remember all that well.” Gerry shrugged, but Tim could see how much it hurt. He reached over and squeezed his hand as comfortingly as he could; Gerry squeezed back before adding, “I don’t remember him writing in it for a few months before he died, though. Mostly I just remember him sitting in his chair. I think he might’ve been sick, which makes sense if he tried to quit.”

Tim cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Gerry blinked at him. “Didn’t I ever tell you lot? Dad was an Archival Assistant. Worked with Gertrude. I didn’t know that until I met her, but…”

“You told us,” Martin said softly. “Neens and me, I mean, the night you…that first night. You probably just forgot we weren’t all there for that conversation.”

“Probably. Honestly, it’s hard to keep straight who was present for what conversation those first couple days, everything got so damned muddled.” Gerry rubbed his forehead. “Anyway, yeah, my dad worked in the Archives. I know he wanted to quit to raise me, but if you can’t leave…he was probably dying by inches even before Mum killed him. She probably waited until he was weak.”

Melanie snorted. “That doesn’t sound like Aunt Mary. I always thought she liked it better when they had a bit of fight to them.”

“Yeah, the problem with her ‘diversifying her portfolio’ was that she took away the bits from each one she liked, and I think that was the part of the Hunt she liked, was seeing how people reacted when they were cornered,” Gerry muttered. “Flight, fight, or freeze, yeah?”

“Yeah, and you’re an emu,” Martin and Melanie said simultaneously. Tim almost snorted lo mein out his nose.

Sasha coughed into her hand. “Anyway, Jon, you’ve been going through the laptop…what have you found?”

“Very little of any use. At least not about stopping the Unknowing…I gather Gertrude wasn’t much of a note-taker. But I’ve been sifting through her emails.” Jon pushed his mostly empty plate away. Martin silently slid it back, and he picked up his chopsticks again without complaint. “She’d requested a huge travel budget from the Institute, and she got it. Kept all the booking information and receipts for that. She also ordered a lot of, um, sporadic but unusually high-quantity purchases. Petrol. Lighter fluid. Pesticides. High-powered torches.”

Gerry snorted. “Sounds like Gertrude. Fire was kind of her backup plan for everything, but some things you can’t burn, I guess.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the term ‘burning daylight,’ but I don’t think that’s literal,” Tim chimed in, earning groans from Martin and Sasha and a smirk from Gerry. “She didn’t travel with those, did she?”

“I doubt it. They’d be quite difficult to take through customs,” Jon said dryly. He hesitated, then added, “There is…one other thing. I suppose in retrospect it’s a bit obvious. Gertrude was buying Leitners. She was the one who bought that copy of The Key of Solomon Dominic Swain mentioned finding an auction for—grbookworm1818.”

Martin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of fucking course she was.”

“I’m not surprised, honestly,” Gerry admitted. “She had me run one or two down for her while I was helping her out, but it’s kind of odd she would have bought any in a way that could be traced back to her like that. She wasn’t stupid.” He paused, then added, “Mostly.”

“Hang on.” Melanie pushed away from the table. “Is it still in the same place, Ger?”’

Tim didn’t know what it was, but Gerry seemed to understand—of course he did. “Yeah, I found it last time I needed it. Still there.”

Melanie slipped out of the room. Jon shot a glance at Martin. “Do I want to know?”

“We keep a ledger,” Martin explained. “Known books of power, whether they were his or not, what happened to them. That sort of thing.”

“We thought about calling it our ‘hunting record’, but, you know…” Gerry trailed off as Melanie dramatically flung the door open and dropped a red notebook and pen in front of him. “Why am I the scribe?”

“Because you worked with Gertrude. You find it, you list it,” Melanie shot back at him.

Gerry sighed theatrically. “Fine.” He opened the book, flipped through a few pages, and scribbled a line in the book. “Any idea what she did with it?”

“I’m hoping she burned it, but my luck cannot be that good,” Jon muttered.

Tim watched Gerry fill in the information in a surprisingly neat, practiced hand. He wasn’t one of those people who believed you could tell a person’s personality through their handwriting, but Gerry’s showed that he’d been well-trained and was well-used to doing delicate work with a pen, unsurprising if his mother had intended to teach him how to work her Book someday. “Was that the only one she got? A copy of one of the most famous demonology texts in the world that almost certainly actually worked? Which of the Fourteen would that be, by the way?”

“Probably more than one, honestly,” Martin said. “I really hope she burned that one. I also hope Leitner didn’t keep it too close to any of his other books.”

Tim paused as the possibilities of that filtered through his mind. “You think they influence each other?”

“I’m sure they can. Or at least…egg each other on, maybe? The more powerful the influence of the Fourteen is on a book, or an object, the more likely it is to affect the world around it.” Martin’s voice shifted slightly in tone. “Some will only draw those already Marked, some will draw anyone susceptible. Some will draw those affected by another of the Fourteen, and those are to be feared, because they—” He broke off with a yelp as Gerry leaned across Jon to smack him lightly on the forehead, and it was only then that Tim became aware of the static that had been crackling through the air.

His first instinct was to get angry. He knew Martin wouldn’t do that on purpose, but for him to even be able to accidentally channel the Eye through the wards meant his connection was getting stronger, and if that was happening, it was because Martin was building it, which meant he was drawing on its power and not telling them about it. From the way Gerry’s brows knitted in an expression of mingled worry and irritation, he was probably thinking the same thing, and it was just a matter of which of them was going to yell at Martin first.

Then something over Gerry’s shoulder caught his attention, and he stood, the anger abruptly draining away to be replaced with skyrocketing anxiety. “Shit, the candle!”

Gerry whipped his head around, and Melanie half-started from her seat, but Tim was already on the move. The point of the wards that marked the Eye sat directly behind the door to the kitchen. Somehow—probably when Melanie came back from fetching the ledger—the candle had toppled onto its side and broken in half. Fortunately it had extinguished itself without setting the counter on fire. Unfortunately, it had broken the wards and let the Beholding in without their noticing.

Tim grabbed Gerry’s lighter out of his hand without even consciously being aware he was holding it up, righted the candlestick, snapped the remainder of the wax off the broken candle, and yanked the top part away, leaving a wick too long to burn safely. Right now, though, he didn’t care about safe, just fast, so he doubled the wick over, flicked on the lighter, and lit it from the middle.

Someone was muttering under their breath, the familiar cadence of a Latin prayer, and Tim recognized it as the prayer to Saint Michael; he crossed himself, more out of habit than anything, and started to join in before his brain caught up to the fact that he was the one muttering it. As he reached the final words—divina virtute, in infernum detrude, amen—the long end dropped away harmlessly and the flame settled into a more reasonable level.

Tim took a deep breath, stepped back, and turned to face the others. He focused in on Martin, who was pale as a sheet. “You okay, Marto?”

“I—I think so.” Martin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m sorry, that—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” Tim assured him. “I’ll…admit I was about to get angry with you, but it wasn’t because I thought you did it on purpose, it was because I thought you’d got a strong enough connection to the Beholding that it overpowered the wards.”

“I was, too,” Gerry admitted. He held up a hand to Melanie, who had bristled. “No, don’t. You know it’s a valid concern.”

Martin winced, but nodded. “Wouldn’t be the first time I was sneaking around thinking I was keeping you all safe by not telling you what I was getting into. I really am trying to get better about that, but it’s fair of you to think…” He rubbed his face, then turned back to Jon. “We, um, we got off topic. Did Gertrude get more than one Leitner?”

“She got three,” Jon said softly. He reached out and squeezed Martin’s hand gently; Martin turned his hand over and squeezed back. “In addition to The Key of Solomon, she got a special edition of The Seven Lamps of Architecture, by John Ruskin. The other was a 1910 pamphlet simply titled A Disappearance.”

Melanie made a face. “Those could be anything.”

“Yeah, in that case, it probably depends on what they actually do. Last one might be the Lonely, but it could also be the Spiral, or maybe even the Stranger. No clue about the architecture one.” Gerry blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Anything else from Gertrude?”

“Not so far, but I’ll keep looking.” Jon sighed heavily. “I’m starting to think the important question is why Elias killed Gertrude, and I’m not sure I’ll find that in her laptop.”

Gerry and Martin exchanged glances. Tim, who flattered himself that he’d grown fairly adept at reading both of them in the past few months, looked back and forth. “You have an idea.”

“Gertrude’s whole…thing was stopping the rituals, right?” Martin said. “And Gerry said the Rite of the Watcher’s Crown was still coming up. Probably.”

“And the Archivist is probably important to it,” Gerry added. “Which means…”

“That whatever his reason for killing her was, it was probably tied to that,” Sasha completed. “Either he killed her to prevent her from stopping it…or because that was the only way to stop it. Maybe it was in progress and he killed her to disrupt it.”

“Or it’s a complete fucking coincidence,” Tim pointed out. “After all, he told Martin he’d kill Jon if he ever told him everything he knows. Elias might have killed her for some reason completely unrelated to the Watcher’s Crown, or any of the other rituals, and we still have to figure out what that is.”

“I agree with Tim,” Melanie said. “You can’t assume Elias even knows anything about any of these rituals, let alone the Eye’s.”

“I think it’s safe to assume he has some idea of that,” Jon said dryly. “He seems to know everything else that goes on in the Institute, just about. I very much doubt he didn’t know what Gertrude was up to by now, even if he’s only been head of the Institute for about ten years or so. But you’re right, that doesn’t mean he killed her for any reasons to do with them. It’s, it’s something I still need to figure out.”

Tim studied Gerry for a minute. “Hey, can I ask a somewhat off-topic question? I mean, it’s at least in the general area of the same topic, but it’s not exactly the same.”

Gerry laughed. “Go ahead.”

“You said Gertrude was trying to stop the Unknowing, and we’ve figured out it’s still coming up. You also mentioned the Watcher’s Crown hadn’t happened yet. Are there any other rituals we should be looking out for?”

“Just the Dark’s, I think,” Gerry replied. “Unless she managed to stop that one in the six months between me dying and her dying. She told me she’d disrupted eight in total in recent years, and since she reckoned they were all going to happen one right after the other…”

“Wait, but that leaves six. What are the other ones?” Sasha asked. “The Eye’s, the Stranger’s, the Dark’s…”

Gerry shook his head. “We’d been doing research into the Hunt’s ritual—she called it the Eternal Chase—and from everything we found, they weren’t exactly keen to start it any time soon. She also said we didn’t have to worry about the Risen War, which I assume is the Slaughter’s ritual, but she never really elaborated on that and I was starting to get really bad about then, so I never asked. And she never found anything on a Terminus ritual. And now that I am…well, you know…I’m pretty sure she was right. Death comes for everyone eventually, and in a world where there’s only death…eventually everything will die out and there will be nothing left at all, and then Terminus would starve. So no, I don’t think we have to worry about that.”

“Makes sense that the Hunt wouldn’t want to start, either,” Melanie mused. “I mean, it’s the anticipation, right? The thrill of knowing what’s coming.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye out for the Dark’s, then.” Jon sighed. “I don’t suppose she said anything about it.”

“Only that it was building slowly and she didn’t think we needed to be concerned about it yet. She also didn’t think it would be as destructive, even if it failed, as the Stranger’s ritual.”

“Would we know?” Sasha asked. “How can you tell if…I don’t know. If a power is rebuilding?”

Gerry pursed his lips. “I think, and don’t swear me to this, you can tell because anything that happens is going to be…lower-powered, and closer to the epicenter of the ritual. She dragged me back to the site of the Sunken Sky, which was the Buried’s ritual—no, it’s okay,” he added quickly, holding out his hands to Melanie and Martin, who had both tensed. “It happened like six or seven years before we went there, and it’s practically on the other side of the world. We just went back so she could get a…feel for how much power was building. She said she could sense that it was starting to spread, but it wasn’t very intense, so she reckoned it was fine. Probably be another century or so before it happens again. She said for sure it had been a hundred fifty years or so since the last attempt at the Unknowing.”

Tim exhaled slowly. “So you’re saying once we stop the Unknowing, we’ll be safe.”

“From the ritual. Not from the Stranger.” Gerry’s voice was gentle, but tinged with regret. “It might not try anything much for a bit, but just because the majority of its power gets dissipated or blown to kingdom come or whatever doesn’t mean it won’t have any influence.”

“Still. We won’t have to worry about it to that extreme.” Tim popped a water chestnut into his mouth.

Martin glanced over at Melanie. “You’ve been looking into the Unknowing, right? Found anything?”

Was it Tim’s imagination, or did Melanie look slightly guilty? “Nothing terribly useful yet. Jon talked to, um, Diana for me and got me a pass to use the library, so…I mean, I know you lot have probably scoured those books backwards and forwards, but—”

“The Stranger wasn’t on my radar until Gerry brought up the Unknowing,” Martin admitted. “Even when I worked in the library, I didn’t generally read many books unless they were relevant to something we had going on, or because I was trying to figure out a connection between seemingly unrelated books that a single person had checked out all at once.”

Tim bit the inside of his cheek. He’d probably read every single book the Magnus Institute’s library had on circuses, and he knew he’d read everything they had on Robert Smirke, but he hadn’t really known what he was looking for at the time, so he doubted it would be of much use. He wondered whether to bring that up, though. He hadn’t yet told anyone—not even Gerry—all the details about Danny; Sasha knew, or at least she knew the basics, but she probably wouldn’t have made the connection between that and his Stranger mark. Or maybe she had, he wasn’t sure. She was pretty smart, and she’d definitely got the hang of all this…crap fast. Still, he wasn’t sure how to bring it up without having to spill his guts at the table. He wasn’t ready for that.

“Anything the rest of us read would have been before we knew anything about the Fourteen,” Sasha said, and yeah, she’d definitely made the connection, something confirmed when he felt her foot gently press his under the table. “Not like we’ve had time since then. So yeah, Melanie, anything you can pull from those books is going to be a help.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Got a few leads, but nothing concrete yet.”

Gerry rapped his knuckles against the table twice, making Jon start slightly. “Oh—that reminds me. Got a shipment in this afternoon, blind lot I bought from an estate out Oxford way. Former owner either had a special interest in Arthur Conan Doyle or in Victorian-era theology and spirituality—there were two professors with the same surname, not sure which one this lot came from. Maybe both, they might’ve been related somehow. Anyway, there’s something powerful in the box. I haven’t really had a chance to deal with it yet, though, short of telling Umberto he’s not allowed to claw it. If you lot want to give me a hand tonight, we can see if there’s anything in it that might be useful in figuring out the shape of the Unknowing, and if we find whatever book it is that probably killed the former owner, we can burn it together, make a night of it. What do you say?”

It said something about how utterly fucked-up Tim’s life had become in the last year that that actually lifted his spirits and made him smile. “Okay, but someone is going to have to teach me a new shanty. I’d imagine you don’t use the same one every time, that’d get too predictable.”

“Well, we do have our standards.”

Melanie got a look in her eye that Tim found familiar in a way that made his heart inexplicably hurt. He didn’t know why until she flicked her chopsticks in Tim’s direction and said, “Debatable.”

Sasha laughed so hard she fell out of her chair. Tim didn’t even mind that it was at his expense.

#ollie writes fanfic #to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest)#tim stoker #sasha james #gerard keay #martin blackwood #melanie king #jonathan sims #misuse of Beholding powers #death mention #discussion of rituals #catholicism tw #stress tw #anger tw #ETA: FUCK WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I FORGOT THE READ MORE

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sswissy · 2 years

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𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚

𝖑𝖚𝖎 𝖘𝖆 | 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

Cardinal Copia had begun to notice there was a discomfort between his future prime mover and himself. It could've been the multitude of hours that he spent holed up with his paperwork and rats but something was terribly wrong. He understood that Dahlia was nervous about the role she'd now be playing but wasn't certain if that was the only reason she was uncomfortable.

When Sister Imperator had come to him with the idea of taking a prime mover, Copia was unsure of the outcome. Especially with the fact she was uprooting someone's life to just marry him for the sake of a new bloodline. Dahlia Amato had been a great choice with her dedication to the church and love for helping others in the congregation. But it didn't seem like the woman was entirely happy to be taking on the role, he couldn't blame her for it honestly.

His ghouls even seemed unhappy as of late too with the date of the ceremony beginning to close in. Especially for the lead guitarist who was seething every time at rehearsals this month. Copia didn't at first understand where his sudden hatred towards him started but had slowly started to put the pieces together. He honestly didn't want to believe it at first that his fiancé might be involved with one of his ghouls. But it was somewhat of a relief to him. Copia was to become Papa in a few months and that alone was taking up his time preparing for. There was no room mentally to take care of a wife and soon children.

"Is something bothering you, Copia?" Dahlia questioned. It wasn't entirely unusual for the man to drift away mentally during their talks. There was an awful lot on his plate like herself but he had been silent for longer than usual this time.

"Could I ask you a personal question, cara?" Copia wanted to ripe the bandaid off fast. Knowing was a whole lot better than just making assumptions because he overheard things. Like what if he was wrong and was looking at his fiancé in such a harsh light? It wasn't entirely fair even though he had a sinking feeling it was true.

"Of course, I'm an open book." She shrugged before taking a bite of the lukewarm pasta. Usually Copia was full of questions so it didn't come as a surprise. Plus it was best to just act like everything was completely normal rather than come across as stressed as she really was.

"I overheard that you maybe uh" Copia coughed trying think how to approach this lightly. Her eyebrow raised with curiosity, twirling the pasta on her fork waiting. "Are you romantically involved with Dewdrop?" He wanted to die of embarrassment right there. Copia wasn't sure how he would recover if he was wrong.

Dahlia heard the clink of the fork against the china before fully realizing she dropped it. Sister Imperator had been adamant that the Cardinal wouldn't find out about it. But it seemed like that flew right out of the window and Dahlia wasn't sure how to go about it. Was it better to just tell him? Maybe he'd be able to help her? What if he was angry and told the Imperator? She'd definitely be executed no questions asked. Dahlia gulped while trying to collect her scattered thoughts.

"I'm not sure where you heard that but it's definitely wrong." Dahlia weakly smiled. If Dew found out about this, she'd one hundred percent be punished later. Honestly the thought kind of thrilled her, he went practically feral when teaching her who she belonged to. Dahlia coughed trying to pull her focus back into what was happening rather than Dew pounding into her later.

"Sorella, we're getting married next month and if you have something to tell me I'd rather you be honest with me now." Copia watched the woman in front of him slowly crumbling. He was surprised the see the hint of fear swirling in her eyes.

"Please understand I came here to marry you, Copia, but everything changed so fast. I wanted to have more self control at first but there was a lot more to it than just some affair." Dahlia made sure it was worded carefully rather than just spewed out in a mess. There was a sense of relief slowly being lifted off her shoulders with every word.

"I of course had no idea coming here that I was going to be Dew's mate. I'm so incredibly sorry that I couldn't fulfill my duty to the church." She wanted to burst into tears for admitting everything to Copia but she just couldn't. It was better for him to know especially with the ceremony so damn close at this point. How would she be able to hide her relationship with Dew if she was supposed to bear Copia's children eventually?

"It's not your fault, cara. This was beyond your control." Copia wanted to seem shocked. Granted he was surprised that his hot headed ghoul had a mate in the first place. He was wondering at that point how Dahlia even put up with him because he obviously needed some pointers.

"You aren't upset with me?" Dahlia questioned. His reaction was quite anticlimactic after being so worried he'd possibly run off to the Imperator ready to kill her. That was still very possible once she found out that he knew.

"How can I be upset, sorella? You can't control Lucifer's wishes, he chose for you to be Dew's mate and I'm not going to disagree with our Dark Lord." Copia shrugged returning to his meal. Dahlia blinked a few times in shock trying to piece things together. How could he be so nonchalant about everything?

"So what are we going to do, Copia?" Dahlia wanted to be free of the chains tying the two of them together. Even if it meant having to go back home to a very disappointed father. But as long as Dew was able to come with her, things could become normal eventually.

"I'll talk with Sister Imperator to resolve some things and you're more than welcome to stay here. You'll just have other duties to the church of course." Copia explained. He knew Sister wouldn't be thrilled that this plan of hers failed after succeeding for so long. But this beyond their control for all the parties involved.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Copia. You weren't suppose to find out." Dahlia was internally panicking. She was certain she'd be dead before the wedding bells rang. There was no way she'd be getting out of this unscathed.

"You'll see, I'll fix everything cara. Now eat, I'm sure you need all your energy to deal with that ghoul hm?" Copia joked trying to calm the woman down. It definitely wasn't working but Dahlia reluctantly took another bite of the cold food. She envied how calm Copia could be after everything coming to light. Perhaps he knew all along and just didn't want to believe it? Or perhaps Aether said something hoping he'd be able to help them? Either way, Dahlia had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was absolutely screwed here.

translations:

cara - dear

sorella - sister

lui sa - he knows

taglist:

@chiggennuggie

@florenceivy

#ghost bc #ghost band #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x reader #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls x reader #lost without you fic

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ncisfranchise-source · 8 months

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David McCallum, best known for his roles on NCIS and The Man From U.N.C.L.E., passed away on Monday, September 25 at the age of 90.

“For over 20 years, David McCallum endeared himself to audiences around the world playing the wise, quirky, and sometimes enigmatic, Dr. Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard. But as much as his fans may have loved him, those who worked side by side with David loved him that much more,” NCIS executive producers Steven D. Binder and David North said in a statement.

“He was a scholar and a gentleman, always gracious, a consummate professional, and never one to pass up a joke,” they continued. “From day one, it was an honor to work with him and he never let us down. He was, quite simply, a legend. He was also family and will be deeply missed.”

In honor of McCallum, below, we’ve compiled the best Ducky episodes of NCIS.

"Bête Noire" (Season 1 Episode 16)

It’s the episode that introduced rogue Mossad officer and terrorist Ari Haswari (Rudolf Martin), who would go on to deliver a devastating blow to the team by murdering Kate (Sasha Alexander). Here, he sneaks into autopsy in a body bag and takes Ducky and his assistant at the time, Gerald (Pancho Demmings), hostage, and yet, Ducky adapts to the situation and manages to maintain a semblance of control the best he can.

"Meat Puzzle" (Season 2 Episode 13)

Sure, the first thing that jumps out when we think about this episode are the body parts in barrels and Ducky and Palmer (Brian Dietzen) piecing them together, but we absolutely love going home with Ducky, especially because it means seeing his mother (Nina Foch) and her corgis.

"Broken Bird" (Season 6 Episode 13)

For all the stories that Ducky tells, it’s not too often that we hear about the more emotional moments from his past, but when a woman attacks him at a crime scene, claiming he killed his brother, he has no choice but to revisit that time. When he was with the Royal Army Medical Corps, he’d volunteered to work in a refugee camp. There was a man known as Mr. Pain, and Ducky tended to his torture victims. Once the team identify Mr. Pain, he and Ducky come face-to-face after years and the truth comes out: Mr. Pain had been torturing Ducky, using the woman’s brother as a weapon to break him, and Ducky had ended his pain to keep him from suffering a slow, agonizing death at the other man’s hands.

"Phoenix" (Season 10 Episode 3)

There’s no way that Ducky’s just going to sit back and relax while recovering from a heart attack, and instead, he manages to find a case — he realizes that what didn’t sit right about an autopsy he performed from years ago is he didn’t have all the facts to determine the man was murdered — that, thanks to one of Gibbs’ (Mark Harmon) rules, puts him in charge. (Rule 38: Your case, you’re lead.) The best parts: Gibbs and Ducky’s conversation in the former’s basement and Ducky interrogating — using the suspect’s vital signs and with a bit of singing!

"Detour" (Season 10 Episode 16)

A trip back to NCIS with a body is anything but normal for Ducky and Palmer, who are kidnapped and forced to perform an autopsy in a cabin in the woods. But while the team is looking for them, they manage to MacGyver their way free… though they are being hunted through the woods when the others show up.

"So It Goes" (Season 12 Episode 3)

It’s the first episode in which we see Adam Campbell as a young Ducky (great casting!), with a case that initially has the doctor thinking an old friend of his is dead. (Sadly, Angus is found dead during the investigation.) Not only does the episode explore that personal part of Ducky’s past, it also reunites him with a lost love (and the reason for a falling out he had with Angus)

"Spinning Wheel" (Season 13 Episode 11)

Surprise: Ducky had a younger brother! (Even Gibbs didn’t know about Nicholas.) But it’s a heartbreaking tale, with the brothers being separated when they were younger (Nicholas was just a boy) and Ducky thinking the other was dead (then alive, then dead again). But there’s somewhat of a happy ending, with the two eventually reuniting (and Nicholas living in a nursing home with early on-set Alzheimer’s). It’s an episode that allows McCallum to shine.

"The Tie That Binds" (Season 14 Episode 10)

When Ducky’s old address is found on a victim, it leads to flashbacks of his younger self stumbling upon his mother hiding a man in a closet and then sending that man, who ran cons, away. The most notable scene has to be Ducky talking with his younger self in autopsy as he questioned that decision to send the man away and taking away his mom’s chance of love. (Later, he finds out that she did have a romance in her last years.)

"Everything Starts Somewhere" (Season 18 Episode 2)

For Episode 400, the CBS procedural delves deep into one of its core relationships and reveals how Gibbs and Ducky met. The case that brought them together links to the one in the (more) present-day storyline. It’s the perfect showcase of the characters’ bond, from its early days to what it’s become.

"Kompromat" & "Black Sky" (Season 20 Episodes 21 & 22)

Ducky might not be in these two episodes much (and it’s all over video, providing key intel for the case), but they’re worth watching for McCallum’s last onscreen appearances on NCIS. He’s in the middle of a 35-city lecture tour in Scotland, and he tells them of a scientist who changed his name to “something from an old television show,” Ivan Kuryakin (The Man From U.N.C.L.E. reference!) As McGee (Sean Murray) puts it, Ducky is “still the best.” Ducky’s response: “I do what I can.” And what that is is something no one else can do.

#ncis

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darcyfangirlsfrequently · 1 year

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Almost... Almost... Almost... Almost... Almost... Finally - chapter 4: Date Night (but not ours)

Work summary: The five times Luke almost asked Penelope out and the one time he finally did

Chapter summary: The fourth time Luke almost asks Penelope out, this time after Reid and Cat's "date."

Total word count: 3341

Chapter word count: 504

Can also be read here on Ao3

Luke had overslept by accident and missed the briefing, but no one could blame him. He was still somewhat recovering from being kidnapped and beaten by Chaycon the week before. Emily had called him on his way in, briefed him quickly, and redirected him to an address on Fourth street, telling him that Tara would be joining him shortly.

When he arrived, he instantly noticed the flyers Emily had told him about. It would be hard not to. They were plastered everywhere. What caught his attention, though, wasn't the flyers. It was the bright red number at the bottom of them. It was Penelope's direct line, the first number he'd memorized when he joined the team.

As promised, Tara arrived only a few minutes after him, and he showed her the flyers. "They're taunting us," he told her. "With this."

Tara's eyes went wide. "That's Garcia's direct line."

Luke had to physically bite back the words, yeah, I know. They had a job to do.

***

The last thing Luke had ever expected he would have to do for work would be to chaperone Reid and Cat Adams on an actual date. For some absurd reason, he found himself becoming jealous. How was it that Cat Adams, a serial killer and hitman, could get a date, but he couldn't? Granted, the context was incredibly different. She had manipulated her way into this was holding two people hostage, Luke wanted to go on a date with Penelope because he had feelings for her, feelings he hoped she returned. But still. It wasn't like he was having much luck.

***

After the case was over, the entire team gathered in the bullpen to explain everything to Reid, since he was pretty worried his entire world had just been flipped on its head.

As Penelope was telling her part of the story, she said that Max has asked if Cat was “a mean girl, but more stabby.”

Reid turned to look at Max. “You said that?”

“I don’t think I said it quite like that.”

“No, that’s exactly what you said,” Penelope insisted. “Verbatim. Or at least, that’s how I remember it.”

Luke smiled at her, knowing he was probably looking very starry-eyed at her, but he found he didn’t care. Her antics were endearing, and this had been a stressful case. They could all use a smile.

***

After finishing his reports, Luke found himself in the elevator with Penelope once more. He almost asked her then, realizing from his kidnapping experience that life could change on a dime, and deciding that if Reid could be brave with Max, then he could be brave with Penelope.

He opened his mouth to say something just as Tara joined them in the elevator. Luke shut his jaw tight and tried not to get annoyed with Tara. She had no way of knowing he was about to ask Penelope out, and if she had, she certainly wouldn’t have tried to get in the way.

It was okay. He’d have other chances.

Almost.

#Garvez #Garvez fanfiction #Luke Alvez #Penelope Garcia #Criminal minds #Criminal Minds fanfiction

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paracsmic · 2 years

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@badcompanys sent 🤝x 10 to introduce more of my npcs!

npc meme: not accepting!

reese dunn ( michael goorjian ) - best friend and roommate of corbin bailey. a hopeless romantic with a heart of gold but a mean streak and a quick temper. passionately shares the same punk, anarchist views as corbin. can often be found at rallies and protests, where he’s never afraid to throw the first stone - or punch - for what he believes in.

zachary ‘zack’ marshall ( landon liboiron ) - an outcast in the town of greymire - which never bodes well. accused of assaulting a rich woman he’d never even seen before, zack was brought into the woods and dropped in front of walker bishop. as he pleaded for his life, walker realized there might be more to the story than seen. also accused of crimes he didn’t commit, walker sympathized and offered to help instead of harm.

mathilda ‘mattie’ reynolds ( lily tomlin ) - the eccentric aunt to mitchell nelson. mattie started the diy craft store scissor me timbers in the late 80′s and operated it for nearly thirty years before deciding to retire to florida with her wife, sylvie reynolds, and pass her beloved store on to her favorite (and only) nephew. she’s an outgoing, bubbly soul still stuck in her hippie days and never planning on growing out of them.

byron ‘ronnie’ parker ( norman reedus ) - single father to gus parker. owns a mechanic shop. has raised gus by himself since he was born after gus’ mom decided she wasn’t ready to have a kid and left. patient and kind but also the strong, silent type - like gus.

renee mckree ( winona ryder ) - biological mother to gus parker and ryder mckree. got pregnant right out of high school. when she told her parents, they threatened to disown her and refused to help her through college. she made the decision to walk away from ronnie and gus, knowing she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet. she kept tabs on the pair of the years and has recently decided that she wants to have a relationship with gus and is adamant about making amends.

mason snyder ( owen teague ) - best friend of ryder mckree. mason and ryder are a classic case of nature vs. nurture. mason grew up in an abusive household and took his anger out on those around him at school. from a young age, he bullied, pushed around and yelled at his peers. it was all he’d ever known. watching mason torment their classmates, ryder knew immediately that he would rather be the bully than the victim to mason’s cruelty. he befriended mason in kindergarten and after seeing firsthand what mason went through at home, ryder and his parents have been like a second family to mason.

note: putting these last few under a cut for various trigger warnings!

lorenzo benoist ( mads mikkelson ) - best friend and brother in law to charlie harris. at fourteen years old, lorenzo found charlie’s father, henrik, dismembering a body in the harris family basement. instead of being scared and running, curiosity overtook lorenzo and forever warped his fragile mind. in henrik’s eyes, lorenzo was the son he deserved. he had tried everything to mold charlie in his own image but it was lorenzo who had finally seen - and accepted - him for who he was. after henrik’s execution, lorenzo took over his mantle and continued to push charlie to become the killer his dad had always wanted him to be.

rose ferguson ( sadie sink ) - late sister of sienna ferguson. doomed from birth by bad genetics. she never let on that she was struggling with her mental health, never asked for help. she was loving, compassionate and wanted to be a nurse to help others - a career path that sienna has since started down in honor of her sister. her death is still fresh in the minds of sienna and clancy.

clancy ferguson ( michael fassbender ) - dad to sienna ferguson. never fully recovered from the death of his wife. to have his youngest daughter leave the world in the same way was devastating to him. contrary to what sienna believes, he does love her - he simply has trouble communicating it and is secretly terrified that she will leave him the same way the others did. she mistakes his withdrawal for detest.

ruby ferguson ( christina hendrix ) - the late mother of sienna ferguson. after a long battle with bipolar depression, ruby lost the fight when sienna was seven and rose was a newborn. she left behind a husband who never moved on and two daughters who both inherited the same mental fragility. while she was alive, she was creative, artistic and passionate - all traits that sienna has also picked up.

#my tendency to write my own npcs is already starting to twitch #thank you vex for finally making me get my shit together and sort out my npcs #npc: lorenzo benoist #npc: byron parker #npc: mason snyder #npc: zack marshall #npc: reese dunn #npc: clancy ferguson #npc: ruby ferguson #npc: rose ferguson #npc: renee mckree #npc: mattie reynolds

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worldbuilder-brainrot · 1 year

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(E)GG AU: Fu’s Story

[Part 1: Fu’s backstory]

One day, Wayzz sensed the Peacock cracking. He couldn’t tell exactly where it was (a precaution to protect against bad Guardians), just that it was in Paris. Fu transformed, intending to handle it himself, but quickly realized he was too old to wield the Miraculous.

(As kids lack maturity and the elderly have lived long enough to reach insanity, the Miraculous are designed so that holders outside of their “prime” can only use a power once per recharge (without the use of spells). Due to the effects of aging, elderly holders typically also experience loss of agility.)

Knowing he’d have to trust another holder again, he traveled to Paris to start seeking out new heroes.

(His experiences during The Great War influenced him to only release the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous, be adamant about not revealing their identities to anyone, and (partly influenced by his upbringing in the GO) seek out teen heroes: old enough to handle the power (though limited if he needed to relinquish it), but also too young to easily pack up and go (unlike the couple of adults who’d tried that). (Furthermore, though he had an understanding of modern revelations about youth, thus also being against teen marriage, it was still through an ancient lens. So, though he was aware of how stressful and demanding heroism and a double life would be, if they proved to be “mature”, he viewed placing the responsibility and high expectations on teens just the same as he would with a young adult.))

By the time the Butterfly was activated with nefarious intentions, he was prepared to give his top picks a final test just to double-check. (He’d admit he was more than a bit biased in picking Adrien, but how could he deny someone who only wished for freedom? Besides, as the boy was beloved by all, it would spare Plagg from having to once again deal with his power being used to tear down all his holder’s enemies. (Even still, the (subconscious) influence of The Great War made him hesitant to reveal his existence to the Cat holder (and the Ladybug holder by extension).))

Marinette and Adrien did even better than he expected, despite the first-time hiccup. He surely thought Marinette would quit after forgetting to purify the akuma, but she got back out there (which is far more than he could expect from himself) and exceeded all his expectations. He felt terrible for just throwing them into the fire, but he couldn’t risk connecting them to him. It wasn’t like he would be a good guide anyway, especially not above ancient beings.

But fate had other plans (yes, eventually meeting Adrien, but that would be later): Marinette brought the Grimoire to him, and gave him hope. Perhaps false, but hope nonetheless. The Grimoire had been left back at the temple, and if it survived, maybe some of the Guardians survived too. Much better suited for passing on the legacy than he was. Even still, Marinette certainly had the kwamis’ favor and the skill for it, maybe it was time to pass his knowledge on before time caught up with him. Passing on the Turtle (however temporary) must’ve been his first hint.

(He refers to his box as the “Tibetan Miracle Box” because it’s the last box from the Tibetan temple. With all the cross-culture influences, box trading, and even some Miraculous swaps between boxes, most of the boxes only represented awkward mash-ups of cultures.)

Getting sick was a stark reminder of his mortality. He wasn’t all that sick, he knew he wasn’t. He would recover just fine, probably in a few days and the medicine would quell his symptoms in the meantime. But… thinking about if he was that sick, the possibility of him later becoming that sick… It left him in the kind of mental anguish that hurt him physically. He was glad the doctor brushed it off as him being dramatic– he was! And neither she nor Marinette deserved to put up with his problems. But… still… He wanted to see Marianne again. He wanted to be with her again. And he completely understood if she didn’t want to after he left her behind for so long, but she deserved closure for why; that she did nothing wrong. And his anxiety pressured him to tell her now, so he asked Marinette to pass on his letter to her.

Marianne knew Fu’s letter was off. She knew reading to the end would clear everything up. It was just… all the talk of being “too late”… it sounded like the words of someone… No. No! It had to be something more bearable! It had to be… He didn’t love her anymore! Yes! Something she could get over. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in years. It would be pretty messed up that he sent Ladybug to deliver his message instead of coming in person to say so, but that’s a much better option than he physically couldn’t. Because he could! He’s fine! He’s alive! He’s not…! He’s not… He just doesn’t love her anymore because they haven’t seen each other in so long…

“Backwarder… You want to go back and make up for lost time.”

Oh, how she did. Maybe… Maybe they would’ve had more time before… before… Just become akumatized and you won’t have to think about it.

…

Why did she act so rashly? Now she and Fu were going to lose even more time together because she couldn’t just read to the end… That’s okay. He’s okay. That’s what’s important to her. She missed Fu, but if Ladybug was with him, that means he’s not alone. And she has Mr. Ramier, so she isn’t either. They’re okay.

It hurt Fu to lose Marianne again, but he should’ve known he was asking too much. He was supposed to be focused on helping Marinette become a Guardian, not his late-life romance. Though it was nice to know Marianne was okay.

[In this version of the Butterfly, Hawkmoth’s empathy is so bad, he constantly misreads feelings/doesn’t bother to look deeper into buried feelings (often just makes stuff up when he can’t tell at all). (There are many akuma I apply this idea to, but that’s a discussion for another post.)]

When he heard of the new exhibit from Tibet, he was curious about what was dug up in his first home, and decided to tune in to the news broadcast. He never knew whether or not that had been a good thing.

He couldn’t leave her to fix his mistakes again. Not this one. He knew Marinette. He knew she would do everything she could to stop it. But she couldn’t. And she would die trying. After Adrien sacrificed himself first. No. He would handle this himself. He’d take their Miraculous to keep them out of danger and lead that beast away from everyone. He’d lead it all the way back to Tibet and drown with it in a volcano if he had to. He would not– could not– let it destroy innocent people all over again. Perhaps Hawkmoth and Mayura would leave Paris to avoid getting their Miraculous eaten, or simply because he took the Ladybug and Cat with him. Maybe he could take them down with that beast. If he couldn’t, maybe the other heroes Marinette and Adrien met could. He just had to get that beast away from Paris. Away from Marinette and Adrien and Marianne. He had to.

…

He really shouldn’t have underestimated Marinette. She was an incredible Ladybug, and once again, she proved she’d earned her spot among the legendary heroes. He hoped he wasn’t too insulting in his doubt. The restoration of the temple, the Guardians, Su-Han, the news brought him to tears. But he knew he had to remain in Paris. Hawkmoth and Mayura were his responsibility. Besides, he was surely exiled now that Su-Han was back to explain what Fu had done. Someone would certainly come for the box, and he would give it up, but he would still stay to deal with the consequences of the attacking akumatized victims and sentimonsters.

(He even got his magic compass, and other assorted treats, back from the staff. His staff which was now at the Louvre. He allowed Ladybug to give it to them, as it was beautiful and well-designed and a piece of his history that should be shared with the world. Though he had mixed feelings about giving it to the same people who literally dug up his trauma.)

He never wanted to make Marinette the Guardian like this. If she didn’t need the magic he was passing onto her, he wouldn’t have put the burden on her at all. She didn’t need the stress. She was going through so much already. But someone would come for the box, and they could help her. He just hoped she’d be okay in the meantime.

…

It was strange not having memory. He didn’t even have enough to miss it. A courtesy of fate, he supposed. He felt bad not recognizing the people who apparently knew him, but they were so kind, he could hardly be upset by the idea of getting to know them again. Especially Marianne. He didn’t know why, but he felt so safe with her, like he could tell her anything. Maybe he used to.

Marianne thought she would’ve been more upset seeing Fu without his memories, but he looked so… relaxed. It was the first time she saw him without the weight of the world in his eyes. It was in an admittedly tragic way, but he was at peace. And she found herself just happy to be with him again. That they could be in peace.

Fu was different, of course. Sort of in the way that she felt like she was making a new friend (which she believed was only fair, as Fu was experiencing the same but to an even higher degree). Yet, he wasn’t as much of a “blank slate” as she had initially worried, and still retained many of his old habits and sense of morals. Just more relaxed, and less nervous. She supposed that made sense; the memories weren’t gone, even if he couldn’t access them. It would take some getting used to, he really wasn’t her old friend anymore, but she had no complaints, she liked her new friend too.

[Continued (kind of) in the AU’s version of “Furious Fu”.]

#miraculous #episode: origins #episode: syren #episode: volpina #episode: anansi #episode: backwarder #episode: feast #movie: New York #episode: miracle queen #my fanfics #(E)GG AU

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