#okay i promise i'll clam down | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obaex · 1 year

Text

anything but you - rafe cameron

summary: when sarah and the pogues steal barry's money, he concocts a plan to take the one thing the oldest cameron loves most to ensure he gets repaid in full

word count: 8.8k

warnings: canon-level violence, kidnapping, guns, anxiety/panic attacks followed by the sweetest fluff ever.

a/n: I had originally planned to split this up, but honestly love it as one big fic! hope y'all enjoy! Xx

Barry limped up to his front door, clutching his side as he struggled to breath through his nose, which was clogged with blood. The door hung open and as he shuffled inside he reached for the piece he kept taped under the kitchen table, grasping it firmly and pointing it around each corner as he made his way into his bedroom. He looked around at his clothes and belongings scattered everywhere before making his way frantically to the closet. His duffle bag was gone. As was the $25,000 in it.

His blood was boiling, partially at the thought of the pogues rummaging around in his shit, stealing his money, and partially at the cocaine that was pulsing through his veins, letting his mind run wild. He knew these kids, Maybank, Routledge, but he cracked a smile thinking about little Sarah Cameron. Rafe's sister. Country Club. And suddenly he knew just how he was going to get his money back.

Several Months Ago

Rafe tossed a large wad of cash down on the table in front of Barry. "We're square" he said, his tone serious.

"Damn, Country Club" Barry said, picking it up greedily and flipping through the bills. "I'll give it to you, you did come through. How much do you want for this weekend?" he asked, reaching over to the drawer in his side table.

Rafe's fingers twitched at his side before they came up to wipe his nose as he sniffled, a nervous tick. "I'm good, Barry, I'm done." His head was pounding, his mouth was dry and he was exhausted. He knew release could be found in the little baggy in Barry's fingers, the sugared crystals tempting him, calling him. He squeezed his eyes shut, driving the heels of his palms into them, forcibly rewiring his brain to focus on the only thing sweeter than the euphoria in front of him: you.

It was like a movie in his brain, he saw you running into the ocean before turning around and reaching out for him, pulling him into the waves with you as your laughter rang out. He saw your head resting on his lap, lingering between awake and asleep as he ran his fingers gently through your hair, eliciting the sweetest smile on your lips. And your lips the feeling of them dancing over his, your arms wrapped around him, the way you looked at him like he hung the damn moon when in reality he was a screwed-up cokehead. He promised you he was done, promised you he would quit and it was a promise he was fighting against every urge in his body to keep.

"We're square, man. I'm done" he said again as he released his hands and made his way quickly out of the trailer.

You had just finished your afternoon of babysitting and hopped into your jeep. You were going to run home to shower and change before meeting up with Rafe and your friends. You checked your phone to see a few missed texts from Rafe.

You smiled, shifting your car onto the road, winding down the narrow streets along the beach before calling Rafe via your Bluetooth. The phone began to ring just as you heard the sound of dirt bikes kick up behind you. Ring. Thinking it was Topper and Rafe, you slowed down before realizing that it wasn't them, and wasn't their bikes. Your heart began to race and you could feel your hands clamming up on the steering wheel as one of the drivers pulled alongside you. Ring. You tried to steer him off the road when you saw him reach into his jacket and pull out a gun. You screamed, squeezing your eyes shut as you heard a shot ring out and your car involuntarily skidded to the side of the road. You let go of the steering wheel, feeling all over your body. You felt okay? That's when you heard air hissing angrily from your front tire as your car sagged to one side. He had shot your tire. Ring. Your phone was still connected and trying to reach Rafe. You frantically unbuckled your seatbelt as the two men pulled up next to your door. You grabbed your phone, hands shaking and tears pooling in your eyes "Rafe RAFE please pick up" you cried to the void ringtone. They ripped your car door open, yanking you onto the street as your phone fell from your hands and into the grass, bouncing beneath the car.

"What do you want from me?" you cried, punching and kicking furiously, you weren't going to go down without a fight. Strong hands circled you from behind, pinning your arms to your chest as the other man began tying your hands in front of you tightly with a piece of rope. Its frays burned against your wrist, instantly agitating your skin.

"HELP!" you cried before a large hand covered your mouth.

"You've got to shut her up" the one man said to the other.

He pulled a bandana out of the back of his shorts and shoved it in your mouth. It tasted like sweat and dirt and the feeling of it on your tongue and the roof of your mouth made you gag as you continued to cry, each of you too preoccupied to hear your phone...

"Yo this is Rafe, leave a message"

You continued crying and squirming as your captor put you on his bike and then settled behind you, nuzzling into your hair and bringing an arm around your midsection. He smelled like body odor and the feeling of his sweaty body pressed against yours made you cry even louder, muffled by the bandana.

The other man closed your car door, locked it and took the keys. To anyone else it would look like a car parked on the side of the road. They revved their engines and kicked off, dust clouding your eyes.

You had spent your whole life on Kildare Island and had never once been to this part of town. No one will ever find me here is all you could think as the homes got further and further apart and gave way to overgrown marshland spotted with trailers. They pulled into the makeshift driveway of a decrepit trailer with a screen door hanging off its hinges. Your captor pulled you roughly off the bike and inside. It was dim and musky and stank of mildew and stale beer. The floor and countertops were littered with beer cans, takeout boxes and drug paraphernalia. Or, so you thought, you had never so much as smoked a cigarette in your whole life. They pushed you roughly into the back of the trailer in a dingy bedroom covered with lude posters of naked women and dirty clothing. The shorter of the two men shoved you to the floor before ripping the bandana out of your mouth. You sucked in a deep breath and coughed, your mouth dry and sore.

"You know who I am, Mrs. Country Club?" he said, grinning at you, a gold tooth gleaming in his mouth.

You took a moment to look at him, his face, his clothing. You had never seen this man in your life. You shook your head, your eyes filling with tears again.

"'Course you don't. No, your boy wouldn't tell you about me, would he? This is a dirty little secret he wants to keep all to hisself" he said as he gestured around the trailer.

"His family owes me money" he said, his demeanor shifting back to anger, "and you're going to help me make sure they pay me every last dollar.” He laughed to himself as he walked out of the room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

The plan was underway and Barry was ready to light the match that would ignite the fire. Thankfully, he knew exactly where to find Country Club on a day like today: dicking off with his friends at the yacht club, spending his daddy's money on overpriced beer. Not working, just pissing away money on booze, boats, bikes and cars, walking around like he owned the damn island.

"Rafe Cameron!" he called, "get over here!" Rafe came sprinting out to him, clearly embarrassed that his dirtbag friend was addressing him in public, addressing him on this side of the island, the two sides of his life colliding.

"What are you doing, man? You good?" Rafe asked, quickly grabbing Barry by the shoulders and leading him away from prying eyes, though Topper trailed closely behind them.

"Nah, I ain't good man. Why is your whole family thinkin' I'm just some bitch that they can shit on, man? First I gotta deal with your dad comin' in and breakin' in and kneecappin' me in my house-"

"You got your money" Rafe said quickly, interrupting him.

"That aint the point, man!" Barry continued, raising his voice, "I'm asking you what am I? Am I just some lil' bitch? Is that what your family looks at me like?"

"No, no!" Rafe replied.

"No? No? Okay, so then why is your little sister and her little surf rat friends runnin' around stealing 25k out of my house? Can you tell me that?"

"My little sister robbed you?" Rafe said in disbelief.

"Yeah, Sarah robbed me. That's why I'm here."

"She won't pick a dollar up off the street, man, what are you talking about?"

"Do I look dumb to you? You think I don't understand what's goin' on here? Cause I'm tellin' you right now you better sort this out with your sister or else I am. 'Cause I want my money."

"Listen, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know what I'm talking about?"

"Enlighten me.”

"Enlighten you? So the Pogues are all around Outer Banks stealin' shit out of everybody's house and you got no idea what I'm talkin' about? Your sisters involved in it!"

"Sarah Cameron, home invader?" Rafe said. "Do you know how stupid?a—“ but before he could finish his sentence Barry shoved him roughly.

"How many times I gotta deal witchu!?" Barry shouted angrily. "That's 25k! Sort this shit out with your sister!"

"Alright! Alright!" Rafe said, holding up a hand in defeat.

"I'mma get my money. Don't forget I know you, Country Club" he let the threat hang in the air for a moment before he continued. "Let's just say it would be within your best interest to get me my money. Quickly. Wouldn't want anyone to get hurt. I'll see you boys around."

"What did you just say to me?" Rafe pressed angrily, following Barry as he walked to his car, yanking the door open and closed before Rafe could reach him. As Rafe pounded on the window, Barry threw it in reverse. "What the fuck are you talking about Barry!" Rafe yelled as the car pulled away.

"Hey," Topper said, coming up to him, trying to put a hand on Rafe's arm before getting shrugged off, "what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know man" Rafe said, the panic clear in his voice as the gears turned in his head. "No no no. This guy is nuts."

"What is it?" Topper asked as Rafe yanked his phone out of his pocket.

"Y/N" Rafe said quietly, reaching to call you when he realized he had a missed call and voicemail from you over an hour ago. He quickly opened it and hit play, putting it on speaker, expecting to hear your voice, his face scrunched in confusion as he tried to make out what was going on.

Ding, ding, ding he could hear the sound of an open car door and muffled voices

"-on the bike man-"

"-'fore someone sees-"

"close the door, take the keys"

Followed by a muffled moan and the sound of someone crying. "Don't cry, just be a good girl for me, we'll take good care of you. You like that?"

The sound of dirt bikes. Then, silence. The voicemail continued for another two minutes but as he fast forwarded through it, all he could hear was a deep, empty silence.

Rafe realized he wasn't breathing. His whole body was shaking. He couldn't hear anything except the roar of blood rushing in his head, in his ears. He could make out the look on Topper's face, he had his hands on his head, a look of panicked fear in his eyes. He grabbed Rafe by the shoulders, shaking him but his voice sounded far away, like he was underwater. "What the fuck, Rafe, what the fuck!" his voice was pitched high with worry. "What was that? Did they take Y/N? What the fuck. You have to call her, man." Rafe's limbs felt disconnected from his body as Topper ripped the phone out of his hands and called your number, pacing back and forth, one hand on his head, the other with the phone pressed to his ear. "She's not picking up dude." Rafe moved without thinking, crossing over to his own dirt bike, pulling his helmet on haphazardly without bothering to strap it in place, kicking it off the stand and gunning it, nearly spinning out in the parking lot amidst a cloud of dust.

He was pushing 60 miles an hour down neighborhood streets. He was hopping onto sidewalks and ripping across pristine lawns and flowerbeds leaving deep tire marks as he made his way to the house where he knew you had spent the day babysitting. He was hyperventilating now and his helmet was fogged with his breath, making him feel like it was closing in on him. No no no was all he could think. Not you. Anything but you. He was about two blocks away when he saw your jeep on the side of the road. He jumped off his bike, tossing it down and yanking off his helmet as he ran up to your car, hands pressed against the glass to see inside. It was empty. Locked. Your purse sat on the front seat. He circled the car, pulling at all the doors and looking in all the windows, looking for any sign of you when he heard a faint buzzing. He crouched down and saw your phone lying in the grass under the car and it was then that he saw the bullet lodged in your front tire. They had shot at you. The sight of it pulled a guttural yell from deep within him. He had been trying to get clean, had been trying to be better. You made him want to be better and he was on the right track, desperately trying to run from his dark and fucked up past. You were his light and now he had put you in danger. He had never hated himself more. Not the time he had made Wheezie cry, not the first time that he met Rose and she looked at him with masked distain, not the thousands of times that Ward yelled at him, told him he was a disappointment. No. This was his new low.

Barry threw open his front door as his phone began to ring. "Right on schedule" he said, grinning, showing the phone to his accomplice. He swiped to pick up the call.

"Country Club-" he started.

"I SWEAR TO GOD BARRY IF YOU HURT HER I WILL KILL YOU. I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? THIS ISN'T A FUCKING GAME. WE WERE SQUARE, YOU GOT YOUR MONEY, WHAT MY SISTER DOES HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME!"

Rafe was absolutely unhinged. Barry had him right where he wanted him.

"See, that's the problem, Country Club. She's your sister, and your family has a history of tryin' to screw me over. So, this is your problem now. We want $50k. You bring that here and we're all good bro."

"$50,000?" Rafe said incredulously. "What are you talking about? I thought you said they took $25k?"

"Interest, Country Club. For my troubles. Plus, I think she's worth it, don't you? You got yoself a fine lady, my friend."

"Barry, I swear to God-" Rafe said, his voice low, trembling.

"$50k, tonight Country Club. Come alone. You remember my cousin Marco, yeah?"

That was a threat in itself that had Rafe's blood running cold. Marco was Barry's supplier. They had only met once but Rafe could picture the thuggish look of the man he knew served two stints in a maximum security prison. A long scar ran over one eye, his neck, arms and knuckles covered in gang tattoos. It was enough to make Rafe feel like a little boy dealing with the big bad wolf.

Barry continued, "If he sees a cop, he'll shoot her and dump her body in the marsh. 'Gators will have her before you can do anything about it. If you don't come alone, he'll shoot her. If there's anything less that $50k, well, I think you get the point. Tick tock, Country Club." And with that, he hung up the phone.

Rafe called back immediately. Barry sent the call to voicemail. Now they waited.

By the time Rafe got a hold of Sarah it was too late. JJ had already spent every last dollar on a generator, hot tub and booze. It was late in the evening and Rafe was running out of time, too frenetic to expend any energy being angry at the pogues. He had to focus on you. How was he going to come up with $50,000? He refused to go to his father again to fix his mess.

He climbed into his truck and gunned it. He had gotten his truck as a 16th birthday present. He vividly remembered his dad surprising him with it as it sat in the driveway at Tanneyhill, a big blue bow on the hood of the car. His dad had smiled and clapped him on the back and they had driven around the block together, laughing and listening to music. It was one of his favorite memories. He remembered driving his truck to pick you up for your first date, he had been so nervous on the way to your house his hands were slick on the steering wheel and he had to keep wiping them on his shorts. You wore a stunning white dress and he could barely keep his jaw off the ground as held the truck door open for you, helping you into his front seat, the vision of you riding shotgun too perfect words.

It didn't matter now.

He pulled into the car dealership with 15 minutes to spare until closing and raced inside. The owner used to be his little league coach and he prayed the whole way here he would be able to negotiate a fair deal.

"Mr. Bennett!" he said, catching the man as he was closing up his office for the day, "I'd like to sell you my truck. Please" he said, trying to hide the urgency in his voice and failing miserably.

"Rafe! It's good to see you. We're closing up for the day, why don't you come back tomorrow? I'd love to take a look at it, and I can let you know what we can do?"

"I'm sorry, sir, it's urgent. I-I need the cash... and I need it now."

Mr. Bennett took in Rafe's mussed hair, the sweat stains on his t-shirt and his labored breath.

"Son, is everything alright? Does your father know you're here?"

"Yes, he, uh, sent me actually. He asked me to do this for him. Very important. It's very important that I do this for him, please."

Mr. Bennett remembered vividly how hard Rafe had vied for his father's attention and approval throughout his childhood. Maybe he could help him out.

"Alright, let's take a look."

Mr. Bennett circled the car agonizingly slowly, lifting the hood, opening each door. "It's in good condition, you've taken good care of it. I can offer you $35,000."

"OK - great - perfect" Rafe said, shooting Topper a text to come pick him up while eagerly ushering Mr. Bennett inside, haphazardly signing away the title to one of his most prized possessions.

You were huddled on the floor, your arms numb from being tied in the same position for almost 5 hours. Your wrists were rubbed raw and bleeding in some places. You sniffled quietly, run dry of tears from exhaustion and dehydration. You knew Rafe had struggled with a drug addiction, but you had never seen this side of it. The squalor, the desperation, the filth of where he would go to feed the beast inside of him. It scared you. Like the man had said, this was Rafe's dirty secret and the idea of that roiled your stomach, breaking your heart.

You saw how committed he had been to staying on the straight and narrow. It hadn't been easy for him, but day by day you had seen the life come back into his eyes. He was able to focus and manage his anxiety and his anger. After a month it felt like he was fully present with you, mind, body and soul and you had both been submerged in that feeling with one another, like you were falling in love again for the first time. He was a sweet boy at his core and that sweet center was able to shine when it wasn't ensnared by his addiction. He would leave flowers on the hood of your jeep to surprise you, tuck love notes into your drawers when you weren't looking to be found days later, knowing they would make you smile. Whenever you were out in public, his hands were on you, somehow, resting on your thigh, tucked in the back pocket of your shorts, resting on your lower back or more often than not tangled with your own. He was constantly stealing kisses, on the cheek, on the forehead, on your nose and when any opportunity presented itself, firmly against your lips, in the bathroom hallway at the Island Club, in your kitchen when your parents sat one room away, in his bedroom, tangled up in his sheets, he couldn't get enough of you. You were clinging to that image of him, fighting the urge to picture him here, doing drugs, when you heard voices pick up outside the door.

"It's 10:00 man, you said he'd be here. Where's your boy?"

"He'll be here, man, just relax, take a bump."

Marco leaned over the coffee table, sorting a line of cocaine before inhaling it aggressively and throwing his head back to rest on the couch, the drug rushing to his brain.

"Maybe he needs a little motivation to pick up the pace?" He stood up quickly, jittery from his high and pushed his way towards the back bedroom.

The door flew open, the light from the living room nearly blinding you in the dark as he yanked you harshly to your feet. "Come here, sweet thing, don't you want to smile for me, huh? Smile sweet for your boyfriend baby girl, go ahead." He held you tight to his chest, one arm wrapped around your neck, forcing your head up, the other resting uncomfortably against your ribcage as Barry snapped a photo. You wiggled, uncomfortable in his grasp, disgusted by the feeling of his hands on your body. "Aww, you wanna fight me again, huh? That's okay, I like a fighter, I like it a little rough" he taunted. You wiggled harder, willing this to be a dream that you could wake up from as he pulled you closer, his face pressed against yours, his disgusting breath hot on your cheek. You moved without thinking, a survival instinct, doing anything you could to get out of his grasp as you stomped your heel heavily onto his foot. He cried out in shock and pain before grabbing you, turning you to face him and slapping you hard across the face. You fell to the floor, the skin on your flesh burning. You could taste blood on your lip.

"What the fuck are you doing, man!?" Barry yelled.

"Someone's got to do somethin’ here! Where is my money!?"

"Come on" Barry hauled you up by your arm and at least had the decency to look sorry before throwing you back in the bedroom and locking the door.

Rafe slid into Topper's truck, talking animatedly on the phone and motioning for him to drive, "Pawn shop on Meeting Street, drive, go Top!" Topper sped off as Rafe returned to his call.

"Yes, Kelc, $5k and you can have the bike, do we have a deal?" He paused, listening to the other end. "Do you have cash? Can you meet me at the pawn shop on Meeting Street?" A pause. "What? No. Right fucking now. Meet me right fucking now, don't be a dollar short" he said, hanging up phone.

"Rafe, what the hell is going on man" Topper asked.

"Just drive, Top.”

"What's wrong with your truck?" he asked, motioning to the dealership in the rearview mirror.

"I sold it.”

"You what!? Why? You love that truck."

"Please, just drive.”

"Did you just sell Kelce your bike? Is this about money? Are they ransoming her? Oh my god, Rafe. We need to call the police. My grandfather's a judge" he said, reaching for his phone, "I'll call him, we can have this sorted out.”

Rafe grabbed Topper's wrist hard enough for him to drop the phone. "No fucking cops.”

"Rafe-" Topper tried.

"They will kill her Topper" he said, his voice stone serious. "They will shoot her and they will throw her body in the marsh and we will never see her again. These guys do not fucking mess around and I'm not taking any chances."

Topper pulled his car into the pawn shop parking lot and Rafe was out of the front seat before Topper came to a full stop. He ran inside. Topper could see him begin to wedge his Cameron family signet ring off his finger. For as long as he had known Rafe he had never seen him without it. It was extremely valuable and meaningful to him and he couldn't believe he'd be parting with it. From the look in the woman's eyes across the counter from Rafe, it didn't look like she could believe it either. She held it up to the light, weighed it and examined it closely. She said something to him and he began arguing with her. Clearly, he didn't think she was offering him a fair price. They haggled for a moment and eventually she looked resolute. Her final offer. Rafe looked destroyed as he hunched over the counter, his head in his hands before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box and slid it over to her like he was giving her the last piece of food on a deserted island. Resigned, depleted.

She opened the box, eyeing the contents closely, eyeing him closely and closed it, sliding it back to him. He pushed it back to her aggressively. Though taken aback, she carried the box into a back room and disappeared. She came back with a man dressed in a suit, clearly a manager of some sort. They talked for several minutes before shaking hands. They disappeared again and returned with a large envelope. Rafe took it, quickly signed a few pieces of paper and began to walk out to the car just as Kelce was pulling in. He ran over to him, accepting another wad of cash before getting back into the car.

"Top, I need you to drive-" he was cut off by his phone chiming. He pulled it quickly out of his pocket and slid open the text from Barry. Tick tock Country Club it read with a picture. His heart dropped into his stomach at the sight of you, your arms bound in front of you. You looked filthy, your normally perfect hair was tangled, your eyes were scrunched in discomfort, your eyeliner smudged and mascara running down your cheeks. Barry's cousin was pressed against you, his cheek on your cheek, his hands on your ribcage, dangerously close to your breasts.

"No, no, no, no, no" he said repeatedly, the only word his brain could conjure at the sight of you. He felt physically sick and he started to shake, shoving the heel of his hands into his eyes and rocking back and forth.

Topper recognized all the signs of one of Rafe's panic attacks but had never seen one this bad. He didn't know what to do. "H-Hey come on, man, it's going to be ok, she's going to be ok. Do you have the money? Let's go. Let's go get her."

"Y-you n-need t-to drive to the f-fucking cut" Rafe eeked out, barely understandable.

"What?" Topper asked.

"DRIVE TO THE CUT, TOPPER!" he roared.

"Yes, got it, driving" he said, throwing the car into gear.

Rafe pulled out his phone, quickly typing a response.

He threw his phone down on the floor, cracking the screen.

You heard a phone trill.

"You hear that, princess? Country Club is comin’ to get your ass. I told you you was our golden ticket." You heard them laugh before they turned up the music and cracked open beers.

You sat up from where you were laying on the floor. Rafe was coming here? To get you? You wiped at your eyes and gingerly touched your lip, wincing at the swollen tenderness. You couldn't imagine how terrible you looked right now. You also couldn't imagine why you were thinking about how you looked at a time like this. Your limbs ached but you tried your best to maneuver into a sitting position as your mind tried to work out what was happening. Rafe was coming here. Was he coming by himself? He would be outnumbered. What would stop them from taking the money and killing you both anyway? These were two coked out drug dealers, there was no way to know how this was going to play out and they clearly had the upper hand. You began to feel around the floor in front of you. You wanted to gag at the feeling of running your hands through the shag carpeting, sifting through dirty boxers, women's underwear and food containers. You needed to find something that could help. You weren't going to let Rafe face this alone. You reached under the bed, feeling a lot of dust and empty space until you hit a cool metal container. You paused, straining your ears to ensure the men were both preoccupied as you pulled it towards you. It was small, maybe a foot wide. As you opened it, you found a wad of cash, several pill bottles and a small gun. Bingo. You had gone to the gun range a handful of times with your dad, you knew how to see if it was loaded. It was. You knew how to check the safety before sliding it into the front of your jean shorts, the cool metal resting against your skin. Your shirt barely covered it. It would be risky, it would be risking everything, but you had to do it.

"Pull over here" Rafe instructed.

"Here?" Topper asked. They were squarely in the middle of nowhere, deep in the marshes at the far side of the cut. The only light was coming from the dim porch light of a trailer 50 feet back from the dirt road.

"Yes, park here. Cut off the engine. Keep your phone on you. Don't follow me, Top. I mean it."

"How long should I wait before...?" he let the question linger, unfinished.

Rafe looked up at him and for the first time Topper saw unbridled fear in his best friend's eyes.

"Rafe, man, look, we can still call the police. You don't have to do this by yourself."

"15 minutes" Rafe replied, ignoring him at first. "If you don't see her in 15 minutes you can call the police. And, yes, I do have to do this. It's my fault she's in this mess, I'm going to get her out of it." He scooped his phone off the floor, wrangled the wad of cash into his pockets and stepped out of the truck, using the flashlight on his phone to jog alone down the street into darkness until Topper couldn't see him anymore.

You heard him. Over the godawful rap music that was playing through tinny speakers outside your locked door, you heard him.

"BARRY! BARRY, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE. BRING HER WITH YOU. LET ME SEE HER RIGHT NOW!"

Your heart squeezed at the sound of his voice, familiar and comforting but full of a rage the depths of which you had never heard before.

The music cut off and you heard shuffling and muffled voices in the living room. Your heart was in your throat. You heard the front door open and close as Barry walked outside and you heard footsteps headed in your direction. You checked the gun in your shorts one more time before the door burst open and he rumbled over to you, pulling you to your feet, through the doorway, through the kitchen and living room to the front door. A sense of relief washed over you. You were free, Rafe was here, everything was going to be okay. Then you saw the gun in his other hand and began to shake.

He shoved you through the front door, hand gripping your upper arm so tightly you could feel a bruise already forming. A few weak lights were scattered around the property buzzing with mosquitoes, making the yard hard to see, but your eyes immediately found Rafe. He had been in a heated discussion until the door flew open and he caught your eye. It was like time ran in slow motion. His skin was slick with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, his shirt stuck to his skin, his cheeks red and voice hoarse from yelling, but when he saw you he stopped.

"No, no, no, man WHAT DID YOU DO! LOOK AT HER! SHE'S FUCKING BLEEDING! WHAT DID I TELL YOU!" He tried to run towards you and Barry stopped him with both hands on his chest.

"Not so fast, Country Club.”

"No, I need to-" he fidgeted around Barry's grip, "I need to see her" shove "Need to touch her" shove "Need to make sure she's OK" shove "Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby, I'm here, I'm here, It's going to be okay." His eyes were fixed solely on you as he fought Barry back, clawing, desperate to reach you.

"That's enough, Country Club, where is the money?"

"I'm not giving you the money until I can see her, I need to make sure she's alright."

"Let me see it."

Rafe reached into his front pocket, pulling forth wads of cash bigger than any you'd seen in your life.

"65k" he said, shaking it in Barry's face, "interest, you know? To make sure you never do anything like this, ever again. Now let me see her."

Barry took a step back and nodded to Marco. Marco tucked the gun into his waistband and untied your hands. As soon as you were free you turned and ran, Rafe meeting you halfway as you slammed into his chest, your arms too weak to do anything but wrap around his middle as you sunk your face into him, crying anew.

"Oh my god" he said, his hands coming around you as he buried his head in your hair. "Thank God. Thank you, God" he repeated. "It’s okay, it's going to be okay.”

You pressed into him further. "Rafe" you whispered, barely audible, "gun, in my shorts, quick-"

"Money, Country Club" Barry said.

You tried to turn around but Rafe held you firmly in place, your head against his chest as he slowly pulled the wad of cash out of his pockets, handing it over your head into Barry's outstretched hands.

"Woooo, would you look at this, Marco? This is what interest looks like right here." They were both transfixed, unraveling the wads of cash. Rafe took the opportunity to slide his hand slowly down your stomach, into the waistband of your shorts as you shivered involuntarily, his hand resting on the gun, shielded by your body against his.

"This is nothin' to you, Country Club" Barry said. "This is just your daddy's money. Money means nothin' to you. Maybe we outta hold onto your lady here and see what another day buys us?"

A gun cocked behind you and you both froze. You felt Rafe's fingers work around the gun, clicking off the safety.

"Barry. We're square man" he said calmly despite the feeling of his heart thundering in his chest as he stared down the barrel of the gun in Marco's hand. "I'm going to take my girlfriend and we're going to walk away now, and you're going to let us go. And on top of the extra $15k I gave you, we won't tell anyone about the felony kidnapping you just committed."

Barry bristled at that.

"We're the one calling the shots here!" Marco said gruffly, unphased as he pointed the gun at the back of your head. Rafe put his hand against your head protectively, pulling you towards him as you squeezed your eyes shut and his hand shot out from between you, brandishing the gun at the two of them as he slowly began to walk backwards, pulling you with him.

"I said, I'm going to take my girlfriend and we're going to walk away now" his voice trembled, with rage, with fear, with both. "Give me a reason, because I will shoot you both where you stand. I'm begging you to give me a reason so I can bury this bullet so far in your heads." He was shaking, his arm crushing you to him as you took each step together.

"It's all good, Country Club" Barry said, one hand raised in surrender, the other on Marco's arm.

Rafe walked with you all the way to the end of the driveway before grabbing your hand and taking off in a sprint. You ran for what felt like miles, your body exhausted, his fingers entwined tightly in yours before you saw the outline of a truck on the side of the road.

Topper saw two figures appear out of the misty darkness, his finger hovering over his phone, ready to call 9-1-1. When he realized who it was, he quickly started the engine, his headlights kicking on, blinding you both as Rafe threw open the back door and helped you in, crawling in beside you.

"Is she okay? Is everything okay?" Topper asked frantically, working to turn the car around while also trying to eye the backseat.

"She's... okay" Rafe replied, panting, as he finally let the gun in his hand drop to the floor of the car. His back was against the window and you were curled up against him, head nuzzled into his neck, one of his hands around your waist, fingers brushing your bare skin where your t-shirt had been rumpled, the other moving to hold your head against his heart. You were shaking and the vibrations against him splintered his heart like a shattered windshield. He pulled you impossibly closer and whispered into your hair the entire ride home, "It's okay, it's going to be okay, I'm sorry baby. God, I'm so sorry."

By the time Topper dropped you both off at Tanneyhill it was nearly morning. He slid out of the driver's seat to give you a hug, holding you gently in his arms, "I'm so happy you're okay Y/N" he said earnestly. The fear and relief evident in his voice. When he let you go, Rafe pulled him into a tight embrace as well and as they let go they exchanged a knowing glance before Topper nodded and pulled away.

Rafe made sure you got food and plenty of water before helping you up the stairs and into his bathroom where he gently peeled off your filthy clothing before running a shower for you. The hot water scorched your wrists and burned against your cut lip but you were so desperate to rid yourself of that trailer that you didn't care. When you were finished, he wrapped you in a warm towel, holding you against him again. He had been looking at you in a way he'd never looked at you before and you struggled to put a name to it until you felt him exhale shakily. It was fear. You had never seen Rafe Cameron afraid in all your life, and now he was looking at you with pure fear, like he was afraid you would disappear in front of his eyes. Wordlessly, he gave you a pair of his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts and sat you on his bed as he gathered a first aid kit. His hands were shaking as he rubbed ointment on your bruised and burned wrists before turning attention to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hands, trying with all his might to avoid eye contact, feigning a deep focus on the cut on your lip. He was doing everything he could to tamp down his emotions. He could count the number of times in his life that he had cried on one hand. It had only been three times. Once, when he had fallen out of a tree and broken his wrist. Once, at his mother's funeral. And once the first time his father had hit him, tears flowing first in surprise, then in pain, then in shame and embarrassment. It wouldn't do any good for you to see him like that now, he told himself. You needed him to be strong, to let you know that you were safe. He pulled your lip gently with his thumb, rubbing something on it before letting it go.

"Rafe" you whispered as he moved to put the first aid kit away. You stood up to follow him.

"You need to lay down, you need to rest" he said, urging you back towards the bed.

"Rafe, I'm okay" you said, trying to meet his eyes as he avoided yours. You reached out, cupping his face in your hands, gently turning it to look at you. "I'm right here, I'm okay, everything is okay thanks to you."

He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, the only way he could think to avoid your gaze. The only way to stop himself from breaking. You moved to your tiptoes to wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into him as his arms wrapped slowly around you. Here you were bruised and bloody trying to comfort him. He was such a fuck up. He almost lost you. He was almost the reason you were gone. What did you see in him? His mind was racing and you could feel him tense in your arms.

"Hey, hey it's okay" you said, your body responding to his tension as you nuzzled closer, rubbing circles in his back. "I love you" you said. And he broke, his shoulders shaking as tears flowed freely from his eyes and he pulled you into his body in a crushing grip. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Rafe, there's nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes there is!" he said, reluctantly letting you go to look at you incredulously. "If you weren't with me that would have never happened. I put you in that situation!"

"No, Rafe, you had no part in this, no idea what those men were capable of. We can sit here all day and play 'What If'. What if I had left babysitting an hour later, What if Sarah and her friends hadn't taken that money, What if I had driven faster and outrun them, or worse! What if I hadn't found that gun, What if you hadn't come up with that money. Rafe, we can both spend time beating ourselves up or we can be so damn thankful it turned out the way that it did. We're here, together, and that's what matters. I love you, and I wouldn't want to be with anyone else."

He looked down at you, eyes still shining with tears and cracked a small abashed smile. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" he replied. He leaned down to kiss you before stopping and pulling back, eyeing your lip.

"Just kiss me already" you whispered, and he smirked, pressing his lips gently to yours. The feeling of your bodies and your lips pressed together made the world feel like it was put back on its proper axis. Everything that was wrong was right again. Everything was going to be okay. You deepened the kiss, pulling him into you and he lifted you up, laying you down gently on his bed as hovered on top of you, his kisses never faltering as your tongues tangled and he wrapped you in his arms. After a few moments he pulled back, his nose brushing yours. "You need to rest" he said, resigned but firm. He tucked you in and you were overwhelmed with the feeling of his soft sheets and the undeniable scent of him. You were warm and safe and loved and you were asleep before you could feel him kiss your forehead and whisper, "I love you."

E P I L O G U E

You didn't stir again for hours, your limbs heavy with deep sleep. Your back was curled up against Rafe's bare chest, his arms circling around you snuggly. You sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his when you noticed his ring was missing. You pried your eyes open and looked down at his one hand, then the other, turning them this way and that. No ring. He stirred into consciousness, nuzzling you and pressing kisses into your hair.

You turned to face him as his eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on his lips until he saw the look of concern on your face.

"S'wrong?" he muttered sleepily.

"Rafe, your ring is gone" you whispered. He flexed his fingers, running his thumb over his bare knuckle reflexively.

"S'fine, baby" he said, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"It's fine?" you said, flabbergasted. You had never seen Rafe without his ring. It was a deep source of pride for him.

"It doesn't matter anymore" he said, trying to change the subject, "why don't we go to the beach today? Just have a chill day. Topper can give us a ride."

You thought about it briefly. "Why does Topper need to drive us? Where is your car?" You didn't recall seeing it in the driveway last night, but then again, last night was a bit of a blur. Rafe's eyes shifted slightly and he started to say something and then stopped himself and instead brought one hand up to rub his eyes. You could tell he was hiding something.

"Rafe" you pressed, "what's going on?"

He sighed heavily. "I don't have my car anymore."

"What happened!?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow, concerned. His truck was his everything, you knew how much it meant to him, one of the few gifts Ward had ever given him.

He met your eyes and took his time responding, studying your face, his hands cupping it gently, his thumb rubbing your cheek as a small smile began dancing across his lips.

"I sold it."

You were about to launch a cavalcade of questions when the lightbulb went off in your head the ring, the truck, the money. You gasped slightly, your hand coming to cover your mouth.

"Rafe, you didn't!"

"I did" he said, the smile lingering on his lips. He looked... happy? Had he lost his mind? "And my bike" he said. Your eyes were wide with shock "And-" he started, the smile on his face sinking into something more serious as he paused.

"And what?" you said, your heart clenching. That was literally every one of his most valuable possessions. His golf clubs? His watches? You started looking around the room as if you could spot what was missing, did he sell his furniture? What else was possibly left after all of that?

"My mom's ring" he said quietly.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you sat straight up in bed.

"Rafe" you said, stone serious, your hand clamped over your mouth, a look of horror on your face. "No, oh my God, no."

He sat up next to you, leaning against the headboard. He still had a smile on his face as he peeled your hand away from your mouth to hold both of your hands in his, his gaze meeting yours fiercely. "There isn't anything I wouldn't have given Barry to have you back in my arms safely. I would have given him Tanneyhill if he asked for it. Nothing matters to me more than you do. No truck, no bike, no ring, nothing. You are everything to me. You are priceless. I love you so much... Plus.." he said, pausing slightly, weighing his next words carefully as he met your eyes, "my mom's ring doesn't mean much if the girl I wanted to give it to wasn't here to take it."

Your heart thundered in your chest as the realization of everything that had happened caught up to you. He had sold every last thing he held dear, the only gift his father had ever given him, the only thing he had left from his mom. The weight of his last statement landing heavily "My mom's ring doesn't mean much if the girl I wanted to give it to wasn't here to take it." He wanted to give you his mom's ring? He wanted to propose to you? Your bottom lip quivered as you took a shaky breath.

"R-Rafe what are you saying?"

He had a lopsided grin on his face as he pulled you into his lap to straddle him. The feeling of his body pressed against you sending a warm wave of comfort over you as you took in his blue eyes, glinting at you as you pushed his tousled hair off his forehead, drinking in the face of the boy that would do anything to keep you safe as his hands rested on your hips.

He was quiet for a moment, smiling at you, looking at your face, taking you in before he spoke. "I'm saying that I want you to be my Mrs. Cameron someday. But, I've gotta get you a ring first. I had been keeping my mom's with me in the glove box of my truck for a while now, just in case."

"Just in case?" you asked, laughing sweetly.

"Yeah, just in case I couldn't wait any longer. In case there was a moment..." he paused as he took your left hand in his, looking down at it as he rubbed his thumb over your empty ring finger. "Wish I had it right now, I'd give it to you."

"I don't need a ring, Rafe" you said quietly, and the look you gave him nearly knocked the wind out of him. You were serious, your gaze transfixed on him, unblinking. And he was serious too. What this happening right now? Like this? This wasn't how he planned it in his head, he had devised a plan in meticulous detail, a thousand rose petals, a hundred candles on a moonlit night on the beach... not with him in his boxers and you with a busted lip and bruised wrists. But none of that seemed to matter now. All that mattered is that you were here, that you were safe. He had been so damn close to losing you, he didn't want to waste any more time.

"Marry me?" he asked point blank, serious, but smiling, hopeful.

You nodded slowly, laughing then laugh-crying as you muttered "Yes!"

He pulled you into him, kissing you as one of his hands came to cup your cheek. You could feel his hands shaking as he kissed you with abandon in a way he had never kissed you before, deep and desperate, loving and possessive as he rolled you over onto your back to feel you beneath him, his lips never leaving yours. You had lost count of the number of times you had kissed Rafe Cameron, but there was a weightiness to this kiss that was new. This was forever. His lips were forever, his hands on your body were forever, this feeling, like you were soaring, the pounding in your chest was forever. And for only the fifth time in his life, Rafe Cameron cried. This time, small, happy tears that trickled down his face as his lips captured yours, breaking only slightly to whisper, "I love you, Mrs. Cameron."

taglist: @ietss, @diary-of-jj, @jasminxts, @burn1ngw00d, @boo22sstuff, @anthgoldenhrry, @h34rtsformilli, @louie-bug, @bibliophilewednesday, @glame, @m-indkiller

Want some more? obaex masterlist

#rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #obx x reader

1K notes · View notes

faith369 · 6 months

Text

I'll never leave you love

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (use of love)

Warning: angst, comfort, mentions of death and violence, panic attack (reader), nightmares

Summary: Ghost comes home finding you inpanic and comforts you

Your eyes were trained on the TV, trying not to look at the time and distract yourself from the anxiety that creeped up your spine, but the pounding of your heart inside your chest made it hard to concentrate on the voices coming from the TV. He wasn't home yet. He should be though, you gave in and looked at the clock he should be home for since 6 hours. He's never been late, and he'd write you if he were to be. The anxiety that has been trying to creep up on your body has made its way to your head. Dark, unlogical thoughts start pestering your mind like a house infested by bugs. What if he's lying somewhere in the field, the coldness of death replacing the warmth of his body? What if he's hurt with no one in sight to care for his wound? What if he's being tortured, his screams of pain not reaching ears that care to help? Your heart beat spiked you couldn't imagine losing him, but your head did just that, turning the pestering thoughts into the one clouding thought that he wouldn't come home to you.

Simon watched the numbers of the elevator go up before finally reaching his desired floor. He was supposed to be home a few hours ago, but his flight got delayed, and his phone died on the way back. He thinks about the time when he wasn't keen on going home, but now he often catches himself looking at the time on missions, counting down the hours until he gets to go home and see you again. Trying not to wake you, he carefully turns the keys. The flat is quiet, and all lights are turned off. The adrenaline of the mission is finally washing away, being replaced by tiredness instead. As he slips off his boots and lets the weight of his duffle bag hit the floor, he perks up to hear quiet sobs coming from the living room.

"Love," you turn your head, a wave of relive washing through you when you see Simon, but your mind didn't fully adapt, not even as you get up and grab his shirt, having to feel that he's there. "Hey, what's wrong?" Simon hears your rapid breath and pulls you against him. "It's fine, love". He was worried, and not knowing what happened made it even worse. Violent sobs shake your whole body as you cling to Simon, scared that if you let him go, he will disappear. His hands go to wipe your tears, only now noticing the dark circles under your eyes. "I thought something happened, t..thought you wouldn't come home." Simon knew you were worried sick every time he left for work, even though he often downplayed the dangers of his job. He didn't know just how badly your head makes up scenarios when he's gone or how often you wake up in the middle of the night sweat clamming onto your shirt, waking up from a dream that feels like a glance into the future where he's gone, and you're left with dog tags and a skull mask splattered with blood that for ones isn't from his enemies but rather himself. Simon's' brows furrow. He hates it. He hates the way that he is at fault for worrying you, especially when you almost faint in his arms. "Love, let's go lay you down, and then we'll talk okay".

He doesn't wait for your answer before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom, and carefully laying you down on the soft mattress, which bends under his weight as he lays down next to you, immediately pulling you onto his chest. "You don't have to worry about me, love; I'll always come back home to you. You're the only reason I want to go home and stay alive on that field. I think about you when I try to find sleep in safe houses at night, and what pains me more than to be away from you is to think that you suffer under it, so I swear I come home even if that would mean digging myself out a grave.

"Promise" your voice was almost a whisper, the exhaustion of crying and the lack of sleep catching up to you

"promise"

Simon wrote Price that night, after you slept in, taking some time off.

A/N: Follow, like and repost. Requests are open

-Love Faith <3

200 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 11 months

Text

Smoke Signals

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (except this is all backstory)

Summary: “My rot is as hungry as me. & when God asks me about love, I always respond with cruelty.” - Yves Olade, from Belovéd [3.5k]

Warnings: major character death, typical tlou stuff

October 2007

Adam becomes a permanent fixture in your home after that day. You don't know why that conversation in the bathroom suddenly made things click, but they did. He officially moves in. Jane crawls into bed with you two more and more, starting tickle fights before sunrise. He learns to give you space, and you learn to be less afraid of showing him affection, squeezing his shoulder when you walk behind him, or kissing him before you leave for the day. Sometimes, when you know you have a big drop coming in, you ask him to go with you. He starts to get good at mapping routes and holding his own. You teach him how to shoot efficiently and scavenge for bullets. He teaches you how to find blueberries outside the walls. He even helps you bake a cake for Jane's ninth birthday. It's nice.

There's still a lot you haven't talked about, and there are a million things you're unsure if you'll ever tell him, but it's okay. He's patient with you. He tells you he understands and isn't fazed whenever you clam up or revert to your anger and silence. "I'll wait," he often says. Normally, after he butters you up like that, you're able to open up just enough, but the lingering thought that he's too good, too whole, too perfect to be with you doesn't budge. You don't know if it'll ever go away. Maybe that's why you try to show him how much you like having him around. Maybe it's why you hide how your body flinches when he hugs you from behind. Maybe that's why you asked him to come on this drop with you.

The leaves are just starting to turn, and the dead ones crunch under your feet. An icy chill stings in the air, winter threatening you with the promise of an especially hard freeze. Whatever wild animals still in the area are desperately searching for enough food to last them through hibernation. You feel the same way as you and Adam trek towards the Shell station. Work gets sparse once it gets cold. People don't want to get caught out in a blizzard or stuck somewhere they don't recognize without rations. You're lucky if you get more than two shipments in before the ground thaws again. Winter is when you get dangerous. Jane needs a better jacket, her old one too small and not thick enough to protect her from the bitter winds, and the three of you need food.

You've been picking up whatever jobs Lee could get you to fill the worrisome gap in your brain. Sometimes it's just dealing pills and working over addicts. Sometimes it's helping Lee move weapons between Areas. And sometimes, it’s a bullet fired from a rooftop or a conveniently placed knife amid the crowd, the poor sucker bleeding out on the ground before you can even turn the corner. You've gotten good at making things like that look like a freak accident or a rogue Firefly. Adam still doesn't know about the hit jobs, and he never will.

"Who are we meeting this time?" He asks once you're far enough out from the QZ. You glance around to ensure no one is tracking you or can hear you before answering him.

"Catherine and her crew. They said they had a lot of really good stuff come in recently."

"More pills?" He jokes, and you bump him with your shoulder.

"A few, but Lee made it sound like they had stuff that's really hard to come by. Might even have some chicken for us," you say, making him groan at just the thought of a chicken breast. You laugh and look at him. "Don't get your hopes up on me just yet, Lowery. We don't know anything for sure."

"You gonna let me make you a nice dinner if that is what it is?" He asks, a big smile pulling on his lips. The autumn sunshine illuminates his eyes beautifully, and the cold air tosses his hair over his forehead. You smile back before looking down at your shoes to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"I don't know. What are you gonna ask for in return?"

"Just a million dollars and mind-blowing sex."

"Are you saying I don't always give you mind-blowing sex?" You tease, and he laughs. He throws an arm around you, pulls you close until you're tucked into his side, and kisses your temple. You lean into him and let him take some of your weight, relishing in his warm body next to yours.

"I would never say such a thing." He mumbles against you, and you laugh.

"That's what I thought," you say as the old gas station comes into view. You pull your gun from your waistband and take half a step away from Adam. He gives you a confused look, worry running across his features, and you shake your head. "I left some stuff in a cache out here a few months ago, and I need to get it out and take it to Lee's before it gets too cold." You answer the unspoken question, and he nods before pulling his own gun.

"I'll cover you." He says, and you ignore the urge to fight with him. As you get closer and closer, your eyes bounce around, searching the area for any threats. The Raider attack from a couple years ago is still fresh in your mind. You refuse to let anything like that happen again.

You enter the building through the backdoor, shimmying it open as quietly as possible before walking through the empty aisles. Upon first glance, you wouldn't see anything worth taking from here. All the food is either expired or gone. The fridges haven't worked in years, and whatever money may be left in the cash register isn't even the currency you use anymore. That's why you decided to keep a stash in the old beer fridge that takes up most of the drink section. Even if someone wandered in there, they wouldn't be able to spot the rickety board hidden behind sour cases of old alcohol.

"Can you cover me from out here?" You ask, turning to face Adam as you stand in the threshold of the beer fridge. He pouts for just a second before nodding.

"Be quick."

"Always." You say as you peck his lips and disappear into the fridge. You turn on your flashlight to get a better look around and quickly find the loose wood hiding your stuff. As you load ammunition and a spare gun into your backpack, something makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You feel like you're being watched, but you can't tell by what. You glance over your shoulder to see if maybe Adam is watching you through the glass of the door but see his back as he wanders up and down the aisles of the gas station. You're about to call yourself paranoid when you turn back to your cache and your flashlight catches on a pair of yellow eyes.

You scream as the Infected launches at you. You're too slow to fire a bullet, and your gun skidders out of your grasp as the Infected claws at your face. You step back to try to get away until the door opens under your shared weight, and you topple over. The wind gets knocked out of you when your back hits the floor with a devastating wheeze, and you see stars. She screeches in your face, tendrils pointing at you as you try to get the upper hand despite the lack of oxygen in your body. Then, in a split second, the Infected is thrown off you, and you scramble away to see Adam wrestling with her. He has her pinned against the wall, but she pushes him back when he tries to pull back enough to fire his gun.

You rush toward your gun lying in the middle of the room as the Infected wails behind you, hopefully losing the fight with Adam. The second your fingers graze the metal, you turn and try to track her movements with a watchful eye so you don't hit Adam. When she rears her head back, you take the chance to fire. The bullet hits her in the chest, and she falls to the ground, bleeding out for about ten seconds before she stops breathing. Her blood bubbles in her throat, but you can't hear the sound of it pooling in her mouth.

You can't hear anything over the thumping of your own heart. That was the closest you've gotten to an Infected since Outbreak Day. Normally, you can hear or spot them while they're still far away and put them out of their misery without ever getting close to them. You rest against a broken fridge and bury your head in your hands as you try to take deep breaths. Those dead eyes always make you queasy. You're not really sure why. You just know every time you get too close, the lack of life behind the Infected's eyes makes you want to throw up. Maybe it's the idea of being half-alive and being forced to drag your dead weight forward until someone does you the service of putting a bullet between your eyes. Maybe it’s the memories from that first night and seeing them so up close, so fresh into their sickness, constantly replaying and making your blood go cold. You vaguely register Adam calling your name, but you don't look up until your breathing evens out. When you meet his gaze, there are tears in his eyes.

At first, you don't understand why. You think maybe seeing you upset made him upset, or the wave of emotions accompanying the dying of adrenaline is hitting him early. Then you see the teeth marks on his skin. You find your feet and try to rush over to him, but he takes several steps back, keeping the distance between you. You must look as hurt as you feel because he has to look away from you.

"Adam, please let me help." You beg, and he shakes his head as he covers the bite mark with a shaky hand.

"You can't help me." He's getting panicky. You can hear it in his voice. You take another step toward him, and he jerks away until his back hits the wall. He cries when you try to get closer to him, dodging a flailing hand trying to push you away.

"I'm not scared of you," you say. His blood is spilling from between his fingers at how hard he's gripping his skin, and you have to pry his hand away before he makes it worse. He's trembling from fear or the infection flowing through his veins. Either way, you don't flinch. "Hey, look at me," you urge, grabbing his face with your free hand and making him look you in the eyes. "You're okay. We can fix this. It's okay. You're gonna be okay, but you have to let me help."

"You need to leave. You need to go back to the QZ and leave me here." He says, his voice thick with tears.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Jesus Christ, can you not be so fucking stubborn for once in your life and listen to me?" He yells. The sudden change in volume makes you jump. Immediately, he looks like he regrets it. He only yells when he's scared. It's something you've learned about him in this past few years. Most of your arguments have happened as a result of you being late coming home or showing up bloody and bruised with an explanation you don't want Jane to hear. Still, he's never shouted in your face the way he just did. "It's over." He whispers, his defeat rattling in your bones. He's the hopeful one. He's the optimist, not you. He's careful. You're not. It's supposed to be you.

"No. We can figure this out." You try, but even you can hear the doubt in your voice.

"How?"

"I don't know yet, but you're gonna be okay," you say. "We can take you back to May or even the Fireflies. They're looking for a cure, right? Maybe they could help. It's worth a shot," Adam says your name as you ramble, but you don't acknowledge it. "Or we can find a way to stop the infection from spreading. We have time. We could do it."

"It's been years. If there was a cure, they would've found it by now."

"You don't know that."

"Give me a break," he says as he takes his backpack off and tosses it to the floor. "I'm not coming home."

"You're just gonna give up?" You ask.

"Yes."

"That's not fair."

"To who?"

"To me."

"Don't do that. Not now." He says, and you throw your arms up in defeat.

"What do you want me to do, Adam?" You ask, tears pricking behind your eyes. He pulls his gun from his waistband and presses it into your hand. You shake your head and try to wiggle out of his grip, but he's too strong. "No."

"Do you care about me?"

"Stop."

"Do you care about me?" He asks again slowly and intentionally. You meet his watery eyes and take a shaky breath.

"Of course I do." You answer. He swallows thickly and lets go of your hand, leaving the gun's grip in your palm.

"Then, you take my backpack and my gun, and you shoot me,"

"No."

"And you go back to the QZ, and you tell Lee we got attacked by Raiders, and I didn't make it. You move on, and you keep Jane alive, okay?"

"I'm not going home without you," you say. "And I'm not shooting you."

"I will not turn into one of those things!" He shouts.

"I'm not killing you! I won't do it, okay?" You shout back, stunning him into silence. You angrily wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks and put his gun on the ground between you two. "I can kill anyone else, just not you. Not my family. I'm sorry. I know you think it's humane or whatever, but I can't be the one to do it," you say. The sad look in his eyes could suffocate you. "I only got four years with you, and even then, I didn't do it right. I want a do-over."

"You did what you thought was right. I don't blame you for anything."

"I do." The confession shakes you to your core as it echoes around you. His shoulders drop just a little, and he walks over to you.

"You didn't do anything wrong. Not then and not now. You and Jane gave me some of the best years of my life, and I'm sorry I can't spend more time with you," he says, and you cry more as your hands find his, and you squeeze. He's still here, you think. He's still him. "But you can't stay, and I can't go." Out of every horrible possibility you could ever conjure in your mind, this was never one of them. Him dying before you never even crossed your mind because it seemed so ludicrous. You're the one killing people and getting people hooked on drugs only you have access to for job stability. You're the one who's fucked over more people than you can count. You're the one who's broken and undeserving. You're supposed to die before him.

"What are we gonna do?" You ask, and he swallows thickly.

"I've never been able to tell you what to do. We both know that."

"What do you want to do?"

"I want..." he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands. "I want to spend whatever sane time I have left with you, and then when it's time, I want you to leave me here, and I will do what I need to do," the thought of him dying alone makes your chest tighten. He leans in to kiss your forehead but stops short, both of your eyes finding the bite mark on his arm. "This is okay. It's what I want. I get to leave knowing you're safe. There's nothing more I could ask for."

"Can I," you hiccup, trying to compose yourself. "Can I bury you?"

"I have a feeling there's a reason we burn Infected bodies. I don't want to make anything worse by being buried."

"So, what? I'm just supposed to leave you here?" You ask, and he shakes his head, but you both know there's no other answer. Technically, he's right. There are theories that Infected bodies expel the Cordyceps or find a way to communicate with other Infected underground. You don't know if you believe that, but you're not sure you believe in anything anymore.

"Maybe we can have a funeral. Just the two of us. That way, it doesn't feel so bad. Think of this as like... a mausoleum or something," he says. "Besides, it could be kinda fun. How many people get to attend their own funeral?" He asks, a sad smile on his face, and you chuckle despite yourself. "Will you eulogize me, sweetheart?"

You nod. Slowly, the two of you walk over to the wall opposite the dead Infected and sit beside each other, your hold on him never breaking. He uses his free hand to wipe your tears away, and you try to memorize his fingerprints. You can already see his bite mark getting spiny and raised. You can feel him slipping away from you.

"Adam Lowery," you start, staring into his beautiful eyes. "Was the best man I've ever known. He was kind and gentle when it mattered most, and he always got this cute dimple in his cheeks when he smiled real wide," you dig your finger into his cheek and feel the divot form as he smiles. "He was so beautiful, and not just because of his swoopy hair or rugged good looks."

"Alright." He rolls his eyes at your compliments even though it was his idea to do the eulogy.

"He was beautiful because of how he treated others," you pull him back on track, and tears threaten your waterline again. "For so long, I thought people like him wanted something for their good deeds, but he never did. He only ever wanted to be the light in this dark world, and he did such a good job. He was my light," your voice catches in your throat. "He helped me learn to dance in the kitchen again, take days off, and not take things so seriously. He showed me that life could be beautiful again, and even though it took me so long to realize it, I will never be able to repay him for that,"

"I will never be able to apologize enough for what I did wrong, and I will never find someone quite like him, but I think that's okay. People like Adam Lowery are once in a lifetime, and I'm so grateful he found me in this one," you stare at him as you say the words so he can feel how real they are. This is the closest you've ever gotten to a marriage vow. "Just... promise to find me in the next one, okay?" You ask, and he nods.

"I promise." He whispers, squeezing your hand.

"I…" You try to finish the sentence, but an invisible vice grip in your stomach stops you. You want to be able to say it. You want him to hear it for once, but he shushes you gently.

"I know," he breathes, touching his forehead to yours. "Me too."

Neither of you says much after that. You just hold him and trace the curve of his skin, the angle of his jaw, and the curl of his eyelashes. It feels like studying a portrait so you don't forget all the details before you can tell someone about it. You listen to his heartbeat, and he listens to yours. The sun sets and rises over you, but you don't sleep. The least you can do is stay with him until the very end, and you do.

A glaze comes over his eyes before the sun can even finish breaching the horizon. You pretend not to recognize it, and he pretends not to be fighting the infection taking over his brain. You won't kill him, but you also won't let yourself get infected. He knows that. You don't reach for your gun when he starts groaning and swaying back and forth. He's the one who has to push you out of the gas station and into the freezing morning. You kick and scream the whole way, but unbearable silence fills the air the second you're on the other side of the door. You jump when the gunshot rings out a few seconds later.

Then, like the world is laughing at you, the birds return to chirping, and the clouds continue moving across the sky. Adam is dead, and a piece of you died with him, and the world didn't stop spinning no matter how much you wanted it to. Jane still needs you. You're all she has left, and she’s been with Mrs. Carmichael for God knows how many hours. You have to go home to her. You have to tell her why Adam isn’t with you. On wobbly legs, you stand and rest your hand on the door Adam slammed in your face in the same way a widow traces their partner's name on a headstone.

And you walk away.

#when you’re lost in the darkness #look for the light prequel #tlou fic #the last of us fic #joel miller x reader

65 notes · View notes

devils-pirate-crew · 7 months

Text

Arber sighs softly, reaching down to ruffle Dawson's hair. "You should get some rest," he announces to the table, sending a quick glance Nico's way.

Luckily - luckily - the captain picks up on it this time. "Nick and I have a lot of details to discuss," he chimes in, effortless with the lie, "So maybe you and Dougie can take Dawson back to the ship? And take Jack while you're at it. I don't trust him alone."

"Hey!" Jack protests, coughing once. "I'll have you know, I'm an incredibly responsible person! Not just anyone qualifies to be the Master-at-Arms of the esteemed Jersey Devil!"

Dougie covers his mouth politely to hide a chuckle. "Let's go," he exhales, clapping a hand on Jack's shoulder - surprisingly (or, actually, maybe not that surprisingly), Jack clams up immediately, allowing Dougie to maneuver him effortlessly towards the door with a wave at Quinn, who rolls his eyes and whispers something to Trevor. Trevor, for his part, looks at the duo, sighs loudly, and fishes in his pocket for an extra coin to pay Quinn with. He lost a bet, one of the spirits whispers to Arber, and the gunner cracks a smile at that.

"Dawson?" Arber scoots off the bench, turning to the younger spirit talker. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed, okay?" Dawson blinks up woozily at him through his eyelashes, then nods, shuffling over to stand up. As he does, he rocks on his feet, a little unsteady, and Arber catches him before any more issues arise. Dawson slumps into Arber's shoulder, closing his eyes again. The gunner catches Nico's concerned look and offers a half-pained smile that he hopes translates to This is normal, don't worry, as he takes a deep breath, then lifts Dawson up into his arms. The kid is so light.

And Arber sees a dark, stone room in front of his eyes again, and a small boy curled up on a slab in the corner that's supposed to be a bed, shivering in the cold, skin littered with marks from various abuses. It's a miracle Dawson's managed to absorb so many of those away, honestly - or maybe he just hasn't seen those scars yet. Arber's blood boils, a bright, furious pink, like the pink spilling from the cut on Dawson's cheek when Arber had accidentally nicked him with his cutlass. As Dawson lets his head droop onto Arber, the gunner realizes, not for the first time, how strong his instinct is to protect his fellow spirit talker.

"I'll pay for you," Nico promises towards Quinn, who merely shrugs. Arber nods in gratitude, steps quick as he heads to the exit. Dougie holds the door open for him and he smiles a silent thanks as he walks outside. The pilot quickens his pace so that he catches up to Arber, Jack nipping at his heels like a lost and drunken puppy.

The main street of the Cove isn't as busy as usual today. Everyone knows everyone else here, and everything that goes on, so they give Arber space as he walks, even if they whisper about the "lunatic" pirate he's carrying. If he had his hands free, he'd probably be beating the shit out of one of these landlubbers by now, so - honestly, probably better that he doesn't. Dougie, next to him, is all too eager to stay quiet, the unresolved tension between the two thickening like Juraj's turtle soup. Arber exhales, long and slow, focusing on the way the breath leaves his lips. He thinks he spots Petey at the docks, chatting to someone, but the second Petey notices him, he waves a hand sparkling with residue at the other man and quickly disappears into the alleyways of the Cove. Huh.

2 notes · View notes

herrmannhalsteadproduction · 2 years

Text

Now Kiss!

Summary: This is Part Five of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Part One was Oopsie Baby which you can read here.

Part Two was Promises Kept which you can read here.

Part Three was Stop Adopting My Friends which you can read here.

Part Four was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie which you can read here.

Part Five is a little side quest story where Bex does some matchmaking for one of her uncles. :D

Rating: Teen Audiences and Up

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz, Randy "Mouch" McHolland/Trudy Platt

Warnings: None that I can think of?

A/N: I'll post the link to the ao3 page at the bottom. This story has not only an OC character, but some quirky elements (i.e. Bex's Very Specific Superpowers) which may or may not be everyone's jam. Just FYI. Please enjoy my mostly fluffy with a bit of angst story. :D

Now Kiss!

Bex liked to see her friends happy. Jay jokingly called it checking on her chicks, but she also didn’t see him turning down the food she brought by when he was working long stretches for a tough case so he could just shush.

There was nothing wrong checking in on her people. And if she happened to see an opportunity to nudge them in the direction of that happiness, well, there was nothing wrong with that either.

She was responsible for all three of the couples in her friend group from school getting together. Devon and Sam, Faith and Ben, Kira and Malia.

Not all of her nudges were of the romantic variety. She steered well clear of her friend Emery’s love life. The girl was intent on dating asshole after gigantic asshole and no amount of pep talks from Bex or the rest of their friends would change that. However, when Emery was miserable with her job and trying to figure out what to do, Bex was the one who sat her down with two bottles of wine and a pen and a pad of paper. They stayed up all night hashing out pros and cons and wishes and dreams and budgets until they had a game plan.

Now Emery was happy at a clam at her new non-profit gig with plenty of time for painting and dating assholes on the side.

Since she’d moved home, she’d been keeping an eye on her Chicago family and she had a few projects in mind. Not Kim and Adam. She wasn’t touching that situation with a ten foot pole.

Otis. Kevin. Julie. Shay. They were all on her radar, but there was one person on the top of her list. Someone who had always been there for her and absolutely deserved to find his happiness—in whatever form that may appear.

Because, she thought as she listened to her dear Uncle Mouch tell her about his latest dating disaster, the man definitely couldn’t be trusted to sort it out on his own.

***

Trudy

Sergeant Platt glared out the precinct doors from her spot at the desk, cursing every cloud in the sky. Today of all days it had to be pissing down rain.

“Just perfect,” she muttered.

“Hey, Sarge, I need you to sign—” Mouse dumped a pile of folders in front of her and stopped short at the look on her face. “Whoa. Is, uh, is now a bad time?”

She leveled a look at him and he backed away slowly, holding his hands in the air. “Okay,” he said, before stopping himself and leaning in again. “Anything I can help with?”

“Not unless you can stop the rain,” she grumbled.

His forehead scrunched up in thought, smoothing out when Halstead and Lindsay came rushing through the doors, shaking the water off of their coats.

“I��can’t,” he said with a little grin. “But I know someone who can. Maybe. Hey, Jay!”

Halstead jerked his chin at Mouse in greeting and came ambling over to them.

“Chuckles here can stop the rain?” Trudy scoffed.

“Sarge, it’s Detective Chuckles and—” he shot a look at Mouse. “What exactly are we talking about here?”

“You know Bex’s Very Specific Superpower? The once a year one?” Mouse muttered to him. “She use that up yet?”

“I have no idea,” Halstead murmured back. “I don’t know if she wants—”

“Hey,” Trudy leaned over the desk to get the attention of the two knuckleheads in front of it. “Explain or move along.”

“We’ll get back to you,” Halstead said, grabbing Mouse’s arm as they headed upstairs. Erin shrugged at her before following them.

She should have made ‘explain’ the only option. Get back to her with what?

***

Bex scrolled through the lengthy text from Jay and checked the time. She’d just finished up her volunteer shift at the hospital—the kids had wanted her to stop by so they could say happy birthday to her and she did a Halloween craft and singalong with them while she was there. She had to get over to Molly’s to start getting ready for the festivities there, but she had enough time to stop by the precinct.

This would be worth it. A new plan was forming in her brain and she turned it over to check every angle.

Definitely worth it.

Jay met her at the door, ushering her inside where she tried to not drip all over the floor.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked her, biting his lip anxiously. “I don’t want to take advantage or ask you to do something you’re not comfortable with and I wasn’t sure if you wanted her to know, but it sounds like it’s for a good cause—”

“It’s fine,” Bex cut him off, laughing lightly. “Jay, seriously, it’s okay. I knew I was saving it up for a reason, I just didn’t know what that reason was yet. We’re good.”

“Okay,” he squeezed her shoulder before turning to go back upstairs. “Good luck.”

“Not about luck,” she whispered and headed over to Sergeant Platt’s desk.

***

Trudy

“Mini-Chuckles,” Trudy eyed the girl approaching the desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Jay texted me,” she said with a bright smile. “Said the rain is wrecking some plans you had for tonight?”

“Supposed to have a Halloween block party for the Boys & Girls Club down the street,” Trudy said, more than a little bitter. “Haunted House and everything. Rain’s not going to stop in time for us to set up and there’s no room inside. Whole plan is down the toilet.”

“Okay,” the kid said. “I’ll help.”

Trudy blinked at her. “You’ll—how? You got access to an event space or something?”

“No, we’re going to stop the rain.”

“Get out of here, Mini-Chuckles, I’m not in the mood for this and you’re blocking the desk.”

Bex sighed at her and then pursed her lips. “I’m being serious,” she finally said. “You remember the cookie thing?”

“Uh-huh.” Trudy couldn’t help herself. She was actually curious to hear where this was going.

“It’s one of the things that I…do,” Bex said, waving a hand through the air. “I know what kind of cookies people like and once a year, I can stop the rain. And yes, I realize how that sounds, but you can ask my brothers and Mouse and they’ll back me up.”

“More than one person can share in a delusion, you know,” Trudy said after a moment.

“Will you just come outside with me for two seconds?” Bex asked, a note of frustration colouring her tone. “Or are you willing to tell the kids that you didn’t try everything possible to make this happen?”

Trudy eyed the kid who was looking back at her with wide, earnest eyes and dammit, she was going to kick herself if she didn’t try this stupid, definitely wasn’t going to work and was actually probably crazy thing. For the kids.

“Bertle, watch the desk,” she snapped out and strode toward the doors. “You better not be messing with me, Mini-Chuckles or so help me—”

The roar of the rain drowned out the rest of her threat as they reached the front step and huddled together under the tiny awning.

“Well?” Trudy motioned at the wall of water. “Do it.”

“First of all, a please goes pretty far,” Bex said, rolling her eyes. “And second of all, you have to help.”

“Oh, I do, do I?” Trudy turned, already done with this. Bex touched her arm to stop her from leaving.

“It’s like the cookies,” she said. “I don’t make the rules. The cookies know who they’re meant for. The rain stops if you believe it will. But everyone present has to believe it or it won’t work.”

Trudy felt her eyebrows reach her hairline. “I just have to believe the rain will stop.”

“Really believe it.”

Fine. She glared up at the sky. “It’s going to stop raining.”

It did not.

Bex was squinting at her. “Not quite there yet. Try again.”

“It’s going to stop raining,” Trudy said through gritted teeth, “Or so help me god, I’m going to set up an array of fans so large that it will blow every one of you clouds out of the sky and dry you up so thoroughly that you’ll never spread a drop of rain again. Ever.”

“Oh,” Bex said, sounding surprised. “That’s not how we usually go about it, but I think that’s working for you?”

Trudy looked up at the sky which was…actually looking a little lighter.

“You heard her,” Bex called out, ignoring the looks of cops walking past. Trudy tried to shush her, but Bex shook her off. “No, no, you have to commit remember? You heard her sky! This is Trudy Platt! She is smart and creative and persistent so you know she’ll find a way to follow through.”

The rain was beginning to slow and Trudy’s mouth dropped open. “The kid’s right,” she said. “I’ll do it! So cut it out! Right now!”

And it did.

“Hot damn.” Trudy looked down at a very smug looking Mini-Chuckles. “That was weird as heck, but I—thank you, Bex.”

“Anytime,” Bex replied before holding up a finger. “Well, actually, that was the one time for this year so we can’t actually do it again for awhile, but I’m glad it worked for today! I hope the kids have a great time. Stop by Molly’s later if you’re free!”

And then she trotted down the stairs and down the sidewalk. Trudy watched her go until she was out of sight.

“Weird as heck,” Trudy repeated as she headed back to her desk.

***

Bex

Molly’s was hopping and Bex was just about run off her feet.

“I can’t believe you came in on your birthday,” Gabi exclaimed as she mixed up drinks behind the bar. “I mean, I’m glad because—” she gestured at the chaos in front of them. “But still, you’re twenty-three today! You should be out partying!”

“Gabi, this is a party!” Bex laughed. “And why wouldn’t I want to hang out with all of you on my birthday? This is great! The roomies and I are going dancing tomorrow so I’m getting the best of both worlds.”

“As long as you’re having fun,” Gabi grinned back at her.

How could she not? Her friends and family cycled through the bar, wishing her happy birthday as they chatted and laughed with each other.

“Hey, birthday girl,” a familiar voice said and she looked up to see the smiling face of Mouse in front of her.

“You made it!” Bex was getting better at ignoring the swooping of her stomach every time she was met with those blue eyes. He’s Jay’s friend was the constant refrain in her mind. Definitely out of bounds. Not that she was thinking of him in an out of bounds kind of way. Nope. Definitely not.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” he said sheepishly. “Sergeant Platt had me setting some stuff up for her party. She was real happy to be going forward with it, Bex.”

Bex shrugged at him with a little smile. “Everyone should get to have a Halloween party,” she said. “It is the best day of the year, you know.”

“So, I’ve heard,” he saluted her with his beer before heading off to greet Jay and the team.

Right before the end of the night, Sergeant Platt herself showed up, making a beeline for Bex. “I still don’t know how you did it or if it was a coincidence or what,” she said, hands gripping the counter. “But thank you, Bex. The kids had a great time and I owe you one.”

“Oh, no—” Bex tried to wave her off, but Trudy wasn’t having any of it.

“I don’t like owing people,” she said. “We’ll make this square eventually.”

And then she left. Bex smiled to herself. They would most definitely be making this square.

***

Trudy

Three weeks later, Mini-Chuckles marched into the precinct and handed Trudy a slip of paper. “Be at that address tomorrow night at seven,” she said. “Wear something nice.”

Trudy eyed the kid, having absolutely zero trust in where this might be going, before glancing at the paper and recognizing the name of the restaurant. “What the hell is this?”

“Making it square,” Bex said. “You’re going to thank me eventually, but right now, we’ll call it even.” Then she turned around and scooted out the door before Trudy could find a reason to say no.

Dammit.

The next night rolled around and she did her make up and put on something nice and made her way to the damn restaurant.

Damn kid.

She gave her name to the hostess and was shown to a table where a familiar man was sitting. He stood to greet her, holding out a hand and smiling nervously. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Randall. Randall McHolland.”

She took his hand, despite herself. “Trudy. Trudy Platt.”

***

A few weeks later, Bex was leaning against the bar of Molly’s, grinning at Mouch and Trudy canoodling a few tables over.

“You look like you’re about to push their heads together and say ‘now kiss!’” Jay laughed.

“They don’t need me to do that,” Bex said with a nod in their direction.

Jay looked and then winced. “Why did I look? My eyes.”

“It’s sweet!” Bex protested. And it was. She was so freaking happy to see her Uncle Mouch finding love and happiness. Even if it was with Sergeant Platt. Bex knew she was winning her over, bit by bit. She wondered when she could start calling her Aunt Trudy?

…probably should wait a bit on that.

“Hey,” Jay said, calling her attention to him. “So, I heard from Will today.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bex hadn’t heard from him much aside from the occasional email. She got most of her news about him from Jay. “What’s Will up to?”

“Well…” Jay trailed off and Bex looked up sharply at him. This sounded like it might be actual news.

“He got a job at Med,” Jay finally said. “Will’s moving back home.”

Bex’s mouth dropped open as she searched for words to respond to that. Will. Moving back home after ten long years away.

This was going to be weird.

Click here to read Part Six in the series: Where There's a Will

(Here's the link to read Now Kiss! on ao3)

15 notes · View notes

ducknotinarow · 1 year

Note

[87 Don Raph]

Donatello's beak opened and shut, taking in Raph's words carefully. He'd seen them angry, he'd seen them upset, but to be brought to tears with worry? Well, it's not new, but it's always worrying. And the fact that it was Donatello that did it to his own twin only made it all the worst in his eyes,

"Raphael I..."

But what can he say to make it better? No, it's not words that need to be said, it's actions.

So he opened his arms wide, and wrapped them around Raph, hugging them as tightly as he can in that moment, simply holding them until they seemed to be calming,

"Raphael I had no idea," Don admits, "I never realised me running off after my inventions worried you so much," He manages a tiny laugh, "For the smart one, I sure am dumb huh?"

He swallows thickly, frowning. Don's grip on Raphael tightens even more, proving he's not going anywhere,

"I'm sorry Raphie, I really didn't think it would upset you this much," Don apologises, "I promise, from now on, when one of my machines goes haywire, or mission, I won't try and take care of it by myself."

Something that was going to be incredibly difficult for him. They were his machines, his responsibility. Besides, if his brothers see how many of his inventions fail, seeing as there's a few they don't need to know about, well, they may look at him differently. But Don has to try and ask for help, for Raphael's sake more than his own,

"I'll come find you, or Leo, or even Mikey, if I need help - I promise it," Donnie repeats, still refusing to let go, "I'm really sorry Raphie."

| Muse interaction [ part one ] [ part two ]

Raphael watched as his twin seemed stunned at his outburst just now. Left to open and close their beak a few times clearly left with no words to give. They weren't the only one to be a loss for what more to say. Raph soon lifted an arm and use it to wipe across his face trying to dry up the damn tears that just wouldn't stop. Fuck what was with him so suddenly?

"Raphael I..."

Raph hadn't meant for himself to snap the way that he had but he just couldn't stand how blind Donatello seemed to be when it came to this all. And that was what was getting under his shell was, they Donatello just didn't see an issue with how they were being. So when Donatello confronted him well maybe part of Raphael had been just waiting to vent it out to make it known how he felt about it all! How Don running off and risking his safety put fear into his twin. Every single time all he could think was about if they got hurt. He could so clearly imagine them dying even.

Before Raphael could think of anything more to say to what he admitted to though he felt Don's arm move to hold round him, hugging him close and tight. Raph stayed still a moment, before he curled his arm arms around his brother. Fingers took a moment to feel over their shell a moment as if needing to check for sure. Yeah he was still here. He dropped his face to rest against their shoulder and soon the water works were on once more. He hated crying.

"Raphael I had no idea,"

Yeah well how could they know Raph didn't exactly say anything to point to how he was feeling about Donnie's behavior after all. Slightly letting his face hide in against his brother's shoulder as he tried to clam down. The hug helped. Feeling his brother was here when that fear of his was working on him again? He just needed to keep that in mind, Donatello was okay he was alive. Raphael didn't need to be crying and getting so worked up like this. Cause Donnie was fine and standing right here with him there was nothing to worry about.

"I never realised me running off after my inventions worried you so much,"

"..Yeah well I kind of didn't either till it kept happening more and more. And it just got. Worse Donatello." Raphael manged to say voice a tad muffled as he spoke up, he could hear Don soon laugh a little, maybe trying to lighten the mood somewhat between them right now.

"For the smart one, I sure am dumb huh?"

Raphael manged his own chuckle just now "Yeah you're a real dimwit ya know Don?" His voice cracked a little as he cane feel Donnie's hold tighten he kind of understood what they were trying to say to him, So he relaxed his own grip just a bit as he rested in against his brother. Trying to clam himself back down.

"I'm sorry Raphie, I really didn't think it would upset you this much,"

Raph hummed a bit to show he was listening, as he sort of just stared over his brothers shell in thought. He guessed he should say it's okay to say he took their apology but, well it wasn't okay that Donnie didn't seem to even consider the risk to himself. Actually that brother him the most still how little his brother seemed to care for his own safety. If Raph was being the reckless once between them he was pretty sure Don would have a lot to say on the matter. Maybe Raphael was just being a bit too protective of them though?

"I promise, from now on, when one of my machines goes haywire, or mission, I won't try and take care of it by myself."

Raph's attention shifted at what Donnie had said just now he was a bit shocked how easily they took to what he said just now. Oh he was very aware how hard it was going to be for Don to keep to that promise of course. Raphael knew his twin well enough to know that they could be very prideful at times. And well pride could make it hard to admit you made a mistake. Kind of why Raph harped on his inventions so much as well. He was taking shots at their pride. No wonder Don couldn't take his hazing anymore but it was that damn pride that created this issue. Don would very well die over the matter of pride alone.

"I'll come find you, or Leo, or even Mikey, if I need help - I promise it,"

That did get a smile on his beak at least, despite their ego he knew Don was being sincere right now.

"I'm really sorry Raphie."

Raph sniffled a bit and pulled up enough to at least lifted his head, gree eyes glossy from the tears still in his own eyes despite his efforts to put on a brave face as he offered a faint smile to them. "yeah well you best be numbskull." he gives a weak laugh, and pulls an arm away so he can once more try to dry up his eyes. Jeez he cried more than he realized guess it was getting to him more than he had thought. "Ya better come get one of us or imma use that damn Casey single and tell that lunatic I need him to keep an eye on ya." he mildly threatened just now. "pretty sure he'll do it if I tell him a lawbreaker been followin' ya around or something." he had the dumbest image in his head of Casey standing far to close to Donnie watching them like a hawk, baseball bat in hand looking more like they were the one going to hurt Donnie over protecting them. And Donnie looking annoyed and worried at the same time he knew Donnie didn't hold quite same level of patience for Casey after all. "Don't think I won't I don't make my threats lightly after all Donnie."

He soon latches back on to his twin giving them a good hard squeeze between his arms. It had honestly helped to get that all out in the air, all that yelling when his temper flared. Might not be the take away he should be having but hey Don listened and heard him even so ya know maybe it was also the right take away. "Don, I meant it I dunno what I do if I lost ya like that so suddenly. I know ya could do real good for the world if you wanted but...well. I still need my brother too. So I mean you know I'm always here too even if your inventions don't work out." he tried to offer best he could hoping they got what he meant. "but..I'm sorry to for being a bit of a jerk." he thinks for a second before pulling back from the hug finally willing to let his brother go now. "Okay for being a mondo jerk. Even if i worry about you. Just well I rather have you around to piss of then the opposite of that okay? So I'll try to cool it with the criticism" Not full stop cause well sometimes he did truly dislike Donnie's inventions when they back fried or directly affected him.

#muse| hamato rapheal #madamkezzie #aflockofffeathers #[ you think first i hit first aflockoffeathers]#muse interaction #reply #ic reply #stayed qeued #(( He will call casey Donnie he's pretty sure they will do it for him too uwu so less you wanna get buddy buddy with the luntic? best keep #your promise ;3; or raph gonna cry and casey likely will get upset cause of that alone! ;3;))

2 notes · View notes

duskwoodgirl4life · 2 years

Text

How two people came together - part 21

MC'S POV

I put the phone down and put my head in my hands Jake comes over too me and wraps his arms around me just holding me I take in his warmth not wanting too let go of this moment but I knew I had too let go of Jake.

MC: what are we going too do?

Jake: everything will be okay let's go get Jessy and work out a plan later

MC: your right we better go get her

Jake took hold of my hand and we headed out the door towards the car, it didn't take very long too get too Richy's. Richy was stood outside waiting for us I could see that he had a very concerned look on his face.

Richy: I'm so glad you are here I didn't know what else too do

Jake: it's okay you did the right thing

MC: Jake's right where is she?

Richy: I put her on the bed she's completely out

We went inside and walked into the bedroom Jessy was passed out on the bed clutching an empty bottle of vodka, I took it out of hands and Jake picked her up and carried her out too the car.

Richy: thanks again for this MC

MC: it's okay Richy I'll make sure Jessy is okay

Richy: I should never of told her it's completely ripped her apart

MC: she will be okay it's just going too take some time

Richy: I still love her you know I miss her so much

MC: I know, I know she still loves you that hasn't changed but..

Richy: it's okay I get it I will always be here for her no matter what

I hugged Richy goodbyand headed for the car I pulled out my phone and called Phil

Phil: hey you, what's up?

MC: it's Jessy she was at Richy's completely wasted

Phil: omg!! Is she okay? Do you need me too come get her?

MC: it's okay me and Jake came too get her do you want us too bring her too your place?

Phil: could you take her too yours I've got an event on tonight and the bars going too be super busy

MC: no worries we will take her back too ours

Phil: I will come get her tomorrow I promise

MC: see you tomorrow Phil

I hung up the phone and put my head back onto the head rest, things have become so messed up how did all this even happen? Why did it have too happen in the first place? Jake put his hand on my hand and squeezed it tight.

Jake: things will get better you know

MC: i know, it's just everything is so messed up

Jake: I get that things haven't been the best but Jessy needs us now

I turned too look at Jake he always knew how too clam be down so I could see the bigger picture, I leaned over and gave him a kiss on cheek we soon arrived home and Jake picked Jessy up and carried her into the apartment and put her on the bed and covered her up. He quietly closed the door and came into the living room and sat down next too me I put my head on his shoulder as he put his arm around me.

The next day I woke up with my head on Jake's lap while he was on his laptop my neck and back where stiff from sleeping on the sofa.

MC: what time is it?

Jake: it's 8 o'clock why don't you go back too sleep?

MC: I can't sleep anymore my neck and back are killing me, do you want coffee?

Jake: I'll go make it of you want too check on Jessy I heard her get up not long ago and go onto the bathroom

I kissed him on the lips and went towards the bathroom, I knocked softly on the door and called out too Jessy.

MC: Jessy? You okay in there?

Jessy unlockes the door allowing MC in

MC: hey, how are you feeling?

Jessy: am feeling like total shit my head hurts so bad

Tears started falling down Jessy's face I put my arms around her and just held her until she was all cried out.

Once I made sure Jessy was okay I left her too take a shower and grab some coffee Jake was back in his office so I took him another cup of coffee. I put the cup down next too him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Jake: how's Jessy doing?

MC: she's pretty hungover she had a bit of a breakdown in the bathroom but I think she's gonna be okay

Jake: come here

Jake reached out his hand and pulled me onto his lap I snuggled into him just enjoying his warmth.

Jake: everything will be okay I promise my angle

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte game #duskwood hacker #iamjake #i love you jake #duskwood jake x mc #jake x mc #duskwood jessy #duskwood richy

4 notes · View notes

rustedhills · 6 months

Text

I promise I did nanowrimo for the entire month, I just stopped updating at some point...

Haha, school, amirite?

[*distant sounds of ripping and tearing with teeth and claws and such other horrible things*]

Oh also I spilled mango calpico on my keyboard so know that my typing this all up is a labor of love and sticky, sticky keys.

So, anyways, I'll be posting the rest of the nanowrimo logs in 5-day chunks, the first of which is presented here:

(also, if you see the phrase 'Vessel of Marduk', know that it's the working title for this project.)

Log #9:

Isa does just enough introspection to see that maybe this whole new-body thing isn't so bad, but stops before getting to the good stuff--or, rather, having to think too hard about any past angst. Also still getting used to writing about peoples' bodies, so this will probably be a scene that changes in future revisions.

Also she sheathes her swords by pushing the hilt against her heel and into the sheath, which is unremarkable but surprisingly fun to imagine. She does acquire a bow, so the options aren't just 'creative parkour or death', however fun that might be to write.

Also I will name every other society after bronze age cultures and I Will Not Be Stopped

Log #10:

Very little written on this day. Shir implies that he's been practicing his atlatl, which Isa doesn't really understand, and he does say it kind of cryptically in the first place.

Log #11:

Any writing session that includes the phrase "I cast out into the wastes" is a fun one. Casting out??? Into the wastes? Peak fiction writing, methinks. Also, Isa scrambles down a karst mountain, and I quite like the words I wrote to describe it. Somehow I inject more humor into my stories than I perhaps intend--but hey, if it works...

Log #12:

It's canon, Isa can legally drink and also knows that her tolerance is terrible. [does that mean I'm narratively obligated to write a scene where she gets wasted? Yes.] More mountains, more thinking. She forgot to pack bandages.

Log #13:

Clams and snails are also canon in Vessel of Marduk, and many of them make a cameo here! Welcome to the river delta. Rust forgets that consistency is admirable when writing an environment, but we're also in the first draft, so it's okay if things are a little more vibes-ey, a little less makes-sense-ey.

[I'm a pantser, can ya tell?]

#rh-nanowrites #nanowrimo #writing

1 note · View note

casspurrjoybell-29 · 6 months

Text

Healing Ties - Chapter 42 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

As they walked, Yore in the lead and Fanner and Duran behind using mage-light to illuminate the way, Fanner told Duran everything he'd gone through so far.

He went all the way back to his childhood and told Duran about how he'd first discovered his special abilities, told him about being found out and taken away to be tortured.

He told him about killing Whelan, about running away and about being found.

Fanner tried to ask Duran about his own life since they'd last seen one another but the smile had fallen from his face and he'd clammed up.

He didn't seem to want to say more than he already had about what he'd been through.

Fanner had been tortured too, of course but to have that interwoven with intimacy had to be all the more painful.

Especially when Duran had used to so genuinely enjoy sex with his master.

Duran had never been one to expect loyalty from a human but it still had to feel like a betrayal.

It was dawn when they found a patch of berries growing near a stream.

Duran groaned as he sat down heavily next to one of the bushes.

"I need a break. A proper one."

Yore set the bag down next to him.

"Do you need to sleep?"

"I can go without sleep but the ten minutes here and there of breaks we've been doing all night isn't going to cut it this time. I simultaneously can't feel my feet and can feel nothing but my feet and the pain that they are in."

"No, no, that's okay. You've done great. Both of you. Do you two mind staying here and eating some berries while I scout around for something to hunt? With the water and all these berries, there are bound to be animals around."

Fanner sat down next to Duran.

"Sure."

"Fine by me."

Duran dug through his bag and pulled out a knife in a leather sheath.

"I also stole this from the humans. Will this help with hunting?"

"I'm going to shift to hunt but it will most definitely help me butcher anything I catch so that I can share it. Thank you."

"No problem. I actually felt a little weird having it but... I'm allowed to have a weapon, aren't I?"

"Of course."

"That's what I thought. It's just... well, you can imagine. A slave with a weapon isn't looked on kindly."

"You're not a slave anymore."

"True. Does that mean I can have the knife back when you're done with it?"

"Of course. It's yours now. I don't get to take it away from you."

"Huh?" Duran said as he mulled that concept over in his head.

Fanner stretched his legs out in front of himself.

"I own these boots. They were a gift."

"Oooh," Duran said. "Those are nice boots."

Yore smoothed the top of Fanner's hair down.

"I'll give you more things of your own. I promise."

"It's okay," Fanner said. "I don't really need anything."

"Gifts often don't have much to do with what you need. Anyway, don't go too far, okay?"

"Question," Duran said. "Can I see you turn into a wolf?"

"Sure."

Yore held the knife out to him.

"Here, hold your knife for a second. I'll carry it in my mouth."

Duran took the knife and then Yore crouched down in front of them.

As fur began to sprout from his body and his face elongated, he dropped forward onto all fours.

As always, it looked so much more painful and laborious for him than it did the other werewolves.

"Huh?" Duran said, slowly holding the knife out for Yore to take.

"Well, that's interesting."

Fanner leant forward onto his knees, wrapped his arms around Yore's furry neck and pressed a kiss against the top of his head.

It was easier to be bold when Yore was in this form because there was no question of what would happen next.

There was no potential for escalation.

Not that Fanner found the idea of taking things further with Yore objectionable but he was still hoping to ease into things.

As Yore dashed off into the woods, Duran turned to Fanner.

"So... is there something going on there?"

"Well... sort of," Fanner admitted. "When Kit brought Yore and I into a dream together, we had a bit of a talk and I said I was attracted to him and he said he was attracted to me and he said maybe we could be boyfriends."

"That sounds like more than 'sort of' to me."

"Well, we're still... I don't know. I want to of course but I don't really know how to be a boyfriend. I was never taught to be a real boyfriend and I've never been in a relationship. I've never even really been around anyone else who was in a relationship. What do boyfriends do?"

"Oh, you think I'm an expert? I don't know either. I think a boyfriend is... basically a friend who you have sex with?"

"Oh. Well, we're already friends, and... yes. I can do that."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes. I mean you know I was taught all the theory on sex even if I haven't had it myself, and Yore has had sex before, so..."

"That's not what I... never mind," Duran said as he started taking off his shoes.

"I'm glad you've found someone."

"I hope you can find someone as well."

Duran waved a dismissive hand.

"I'm not too worried about that. I want to have sex with a human and if my only human prospects aren't interested in a relationship, I'm fine with that. At this point in my life, I'd rather just be myself, on my own. I feel like once you start getting into relationships, you become accountable to another person. Not like a slave is but still. The closer you become to someone, the more your choices will impact them and at a certain point I imagine they'd expect you to consult them on some things."

"Oh. Well, probably. I don't mind. I feel like if I consult with Yore, it's a good thing. He listens and he helps me with things."

Duran made a face as he twisted his now bare foot so that he could see its sole.

It was covered in blisters, some of them broken open and worn off so that only raw, tender skin remained.

"Here, let me fix you up," Fanner said, reaching for Duran's foot.

"That won't waste too much energy?" Duran asked as he turned to give Fanner better access.

"No. These are minor."

"Sometimes superficial injuries can hurt more than serious ones."

"Hmm," was all Duran said to that, though it had an undertone of knowing that made Fanner sad.

As Fanner got started on healing Duran's feet, Duran lay down on the ground and started picking berries from the bush next to him and putting them straight into his mouth.

Fanner opened his mouth and leant forward and Duran fed him one.

Fanner wasn't sure what type of berries they were but they were a dark reddish purple, sweet and juicy.

Fanner trusted that Yore knew what he was talking about and they were safe to eat.

Fanner was just opening his mouth to request another berry when a stick snapped behind a copse of trees to their left and they both froze.

As they slowly turned to look in the direction the sound had come from, a huge creature with shaggy brown fur emerged from between the trees.

The creature charged towards them on two legs, its teeth bared in a snarl on a face that reminded Fanner of what Yore looked like when he was midway between human and wolf.

Fanner was on his feet in an instant but Duran had been in a more vulnerable position and by the time he scrambled to his feet, the creature was already grabbing him and slamming him back against the nearest tree.

As Duran let out a scream, Fanner abandoned all thoughts of fleeing and grabbed the creature's arm.

He pulled energy from it but it felt like drinking from a lake.

He drew in so much energy that his head spun with it but the creature was still standing.

It dropped Duran and spun around, paw lifted high to reveal razor sharp claws and ready to strike as it focused its rage on Fanner.

And then, just as all hope seemed lost, there was a flash and something blocked its path.

No, someone.

They were facing away from Fanner but he knew that dark, curly hair.

It was Kit.

1 note · View note

alcospray · 7 months

Text

my ex-high school-sweethearts agenda with kuroo.

In a garden filled with blooming zinnias, two people vowed to love each other until their last breath. The sunset provides a golden spotlight as they utter their I do's. There is a watering in my eyes; maybe it's pollen allergy (well, I don't have that), or perhaps it's because of the sheer happiness I feel for Kenma.

It's weird to witness the person you grew up with doing very adult things. Like now, getting married while crying that renders the eyes red and raw and, nose filled with snot afterward. It's weird, but it also warms my heart. I am quite envious, even.

But it's weirder to have your heart beat faster, your hands clammy as a wet clam when you meet eyes with your ex at your shared friend's wedding.

The very ex I declared that I have moved on from. The very ex I tried to get hexed via a (fake) witch when I was pissed drunk. The very ex who promised to stay with me forever then left me. The same ex who, until today, my mother still asked about.

Standing beside the groom, although I hate to admit it, Kuroo looks handsome, donned in a light burgundy suit, hair slicked back. Tall and lean. He has a shit-eating grin as he watches Kenma bawl his eyes out, only faltering when our eyes accidentally meet. As instincts kicked in, I averted my gaze and subtly hid behind my hands in the guise of blocking the setting sun.

As the moon settled on its place, the garden transformed into a bustling dance floor. I watched Bokuto clumsily but eagerly twerk to Doja Cat, the Nekoma High players in a dancing train led by Lev, wiggling their bodies to Gasolina. And of course, the newlyweds slowly dance to the soft rhythm of their favorite song.

Kenma divulged that he wanted to keep the wedding intimate so it would feel like a mini reunion for all his close friends. "Just like old times. That's why you should be there. No more avoiding us." He sighed through the phone. "I'll even pay for your flight and all. So, no excuses, okay?" I laughed in response, mumbling my assent.

Just like old times, the whole place is vibrant from the laughter and antics of everybody. Too many familiar, friendly faces from youth. The faces I greeted in the hallways; the faces I laughed with; the faces I laughed at; the faces I avoided when my relationship with Kuroo soured. Too many familiar faces yet I have never felt so out of place, so suffocated.

“Do you still love these flowers?” Kuroo sheepishly asked pointing to the pink and purple zinnias. Holding his breathe, Kuroo waited for a response.

He does not expect you to talk to him. Heck, for you to even utter his name so sweetly again after everything that happened between the two of you. But you did, crouched down in front of the zinnias, looking up at him with those eyes he used to make crinkle in laughter.

“Hi, Kuroo.” The look of alarm in your face, due to the sudden intrusion, is quickly exchanged with a shy, tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, I still do.”

In the secluded part of the garden, away from the jovial chaos of the party, Kuroo felt his heart beat a little faster, his hands a little clammier. Like it used to be in his youth.

originally posted on @nouvelleair but i'm not really good at managing two blogs so reposting it here. my first ever fic writing, this is a practice piece tho. it felt good to finally put the floating ideas in my head into words. i'm so happy, writing is so fun really. i'm also still in the process of figuring out how i want to write (i.e., pov). learning is also so fun mwa mwa

#kuroo fic #writing practice╯

2 notes · View notes

ahogedetective · 9 months

Note

*despite having been there for nearly an hour, yuma has barely said a word to shuichi! the boy is just far too nervous to say anything, at certain points looking as if he really does want to say something before silently sighing and ultimately burying his face in his notebook again. it's not until there's a sudden boom of thunder that he gives a loud yelp, whipping his head towards the window as he sees it start to be pelted by rain!*

"Oh..." *it's only then that he realizes what he just did, the tiny detective now looking more worried than ever as he turns towards shuichi and bows his head low!*

"Wah!! I-I'm sorry if I disturbed your concentration! I-it won't happen again, I promise! I just got a little startled... I-I wasn't expecting a thunderstorm to happen today... It almost feels like the rain followed me all the way here, haha... ah..."

The awkward silence was nearly killing Shuichi, too... right now, he was just taking care of some paperwork, but nothing that required too much focus, so he happily let Yuma stay in his room. At most, he told Yuma a bit about what the paperwork entails, some useful tips on how tackle potentially lots of it, how to properly organize your files and whatnot, etc. But other than that, he struggled a bit on what to actually talk about. It's why he hated being bad at socializing; he didn't want Yuma to feel so nervous. He wants to help him relax, somehow... and he could sense that Yuma looked like he wanted to say something at times, but clammed up and buried his face in his notebook. A part of Shuichi sometimes wanted to ask him what's up, but didn't know if would feel comfortable bringing it up since hesitated. ("But at the same time, if I don't prompt him to speak up, he'll never grow more comfortable talking to me...")

Looking back up from his desk and towards him, he was about to call out to him, until that sudden loud clap of thunder, and the loud yelp Yuma let out, made him jump in his seat a little! "T-That startled you, too, huh. A-Ah, but-!" Seeing him apologize and bow like that, he waves his hand in the air while chuckling sheepishly. "It's okay, you didn't ruin anything! I got startled by it, too. Yeah.... I thought it was simply going to be cloudy, not a full thunderstorm. Ah- haha, maybe the rain missed you...? I know you probably don't like this weather since it's all you ever had down there, but I personally like the rain. It helps me focus even better whenever I'm working. So please, don't fret about "ruining" my concentration. In fact... it seemed like something was on your mind at times. I was hesitant about saying something at first, because I didn't want to make you more nervous, but: I also don't want to just sit here and not help you relax... so please, why not tell me what you've been wanting to say?"

He gives him a more relaxed looking smile. "No matter if it's related to detective work or not; let's....have a chat. I think that'd be nice, during this stormy weather. I'll even go down to make us tea or coffee, if you'd like. That'd be nice....yeah?"

#awkward detective babies hehe....#b u t sushi is determined to help him open up!!!#wants Yuma not to be so nervous around him and loosen up~#Shuichi answers;;#essenceofjustice

1 note · View note

chocoenvy · 3 years

Text

Whims of the Gods (let's play a game of dissection Part 3)

Part one, Part Two, Part Four(Final)

(inspired by this ask that @/is-very-sad got)

after part four and all of this angst i am writing some fluff, i need it. specifically foul legacy fluff because i acidentally made myself a childe simp writing this

Warnings!!!: trauma. cult behaviors. Mentions of what happened in part one but not detailed. imposter/rejected god au

2,575 words

"I understand your grace, but you'll be safer there." The abyss mage comfortingly patted you on the back.

You whined, while holding the rifthound whelp that had found you your first night on Tsurumi Island.

The abyss mage chuckled, "No, your grace, you cannot take Milo with you."

You pouted and gave Milo a long squeeze and a loving kiss on the nose. The whelp barked, happy that you would show him so much love. But as you set him down and stood up to leave, he whined. Urging you to stay with him.

"Milo," The abyss mage softly said, "Their excellency has to go somehwere safe, where they'll never get hurt. You have to stay here with your father. Okay? Grow big and strong for their grace okay?"

You sniffed as you walked away from Milo, Tartaglia at your side. You sent him and the rest of your loyal friends a heart, lots of headpats and hugs until you were far away from the camp. Tartaglia at your side, leading you to the boat that would take you to Sneznaya.

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

The boat ride was long, and despite the weeks you had spent with the hilichurls, you were far from a full recovery. Both mentally and physically. Childe, though, took care of all of your needs.

He was always beside you and was patient with you the first few days of the trip, which was a harsh learning curve. "Don't worry about the Fatui, I've already informed them of who you are, they won't hurt you."

Despite his words, you still shook at all of the people on the ship. If there were too many near you, you'd shut down. Your mouth would clam shut and turn dry. Your limbs would lock up and you wouldn't be able to move.

After that had happened, Childe had picked you up, "Here, I'll just carry you around everywhere!" He giggled, "It'll be easier on your body."

He definetely upheld that promise, you hardly used your legs the entire boat ride.

"Do you need anything your grace?" He'd ask constanlty, "Water?" He made a motion with his hand, "Food?" He made a different motion, "Does anything hurt?" Another motion.

Eventually you got used to the hand motions. You'd grab his sleeve, wave your hands, or make grabby hands and then make the hand motion for your desired item. Or if anything hurt - or at least hurt more than it usually did - you'd make a pained expression and point at it. Luckily, the days on the ship were easy, especially since you only interracted with Childe.

Honestly, you were glad nobody but him talked to you. The most they did was bow lowly and mutter "Your grace." If they said more words than that or got too close, your entire body shook. And since Childe was usually holding you or right by your side, he'd notice and not-so-subtly tell the person to back off.

Humans are cruel. All of the abyss mages, hilichurls, and rifthounds agreed, They are our enemies. They do nothing but hurt us. You can never trust humans.

"C." Childe made the letter with his hand and you copied it, "H." Another letter that you copied, "I. L. D. E." He smiled, "We're almost to Snezhnaya. If you ever need me and don't know where I am, just go up to someone and do that. They'll know what you mean."

You nodded, your stomach twisting in uncomfortable knots. The harbor meant more people. More people meant more danger. Would they think you were an imposter? Would it be just like Liyue Harbor? What would they take next? Your arms, legs, ears, eyes-?

Childe seemed to have read your thoughts as he grabbed your hands and gently smiled but behind his eyes, dangerous thoughts played out. "Please your grace, don't worry. I've already sent letters to the Tsaritsa explaining the situation. All of Sneznhaya knows that you're our god." His smile turned sharper and wicked, "And if anyone dares to insult you or harm you in any way, me and the rest of the Fatui won't hesitate to make their end more painful than anything they could've dreamed of."

Childe's malicious demeanor dissipated as he felt your hands shake. He pouted, "Aw, your grace, I'm sorry. Don't worry, that look will never be directed towards you." He smiled and went to pat your head. His hand stopped as you shrinked away, so he instead booped your nose. Your face lit up with a smile and his heart melted. Truly, you deserved the world and your smiles were all the sweeter knowing that he was the first human to have witnessed them.

There was a knock on the door, "Tartaglia, Your grace, we're here."

"Okay, we'll be up in a minute." Childe called back. He looked to you as the footsteps faded away from the door, "Are you ready your grace?" He grinned giddily, holding his hand out to you.

You took a deep breath but nodded and grabbed his hand. He tugged you into his arms and held you bridal style. He twirled with you in his arms, giggling like a child.

You gasped in shock as he spun you around but you grinned brightly, giggling with him.

"Here," He opened up the closet in your room below deck, and set you down carefully, holding your hand to make sure you wouldn't fall, "We'll put you in some warm clothes and then we'll leave. Everything on the ship will be taken out by someone else so you don't worry about anything okay?" He smiled warmly while shifting through the absurd amount of clothes you had.

Eventually he found a thick and soft coat for you to wear, he stacked three layers on you before deciding it was enough. He picked you up again, a proud smile on his face as he left the room and went to the deck of the ship.

"Here we are," He muttered to you, looking out over the boat at Snezhnaya, "Home sweet home." His smile was so soft for the 11th fatui harbinger.

You grinned and looked out at the massive crowd of people. Your smile died and your eyes furrowed in worry.

Childe hopped a bit with you in his arms, causing you to jump around, "Come on your grace! They're not that scary! Besides, we won't be bothered by the crowds." He grinned, walking down the wooden plank off of the ship.

You tilted your head at him, confused, but then you noticed how quiet it was. Especially for a harbor full of people. You looked away from Childe back to the crowds, only to gasp quietly when you saw everybody in the crowd kneeling before you.

You froze in Childe's arms, your arms around his neck pulling yourself closer to him.

"Your grace," Childe's voice boomed as he grinned down at you, "Welcome home!"

The crowds cheered and you flinched tongue tongue tongue tongue, they're gonna take my tongue, do they have my tongue? Is that why they're cheering? Cause they've already stolen something from me-?

"Your grace?" Childe immediately noticed how you shrunk into his chest at the loud noise, "Are you okay?"

You shook your head, burying it further into his fluffy coat.

Childe whimpered, "I'm sorry your grace. Here, we'll hurry to the palace."

He rushed off of the boat and right in front of the plank used to get off was a group of five harbingers. There was one you vaguely recognized and one you definetely knew. You'd know that big hat short-stack with mommy issues anywhere. The other three, though, you didn't know.

"Let's hurry," Childe said, "Their excellency wants to get to the palace as quickly as possible."

They listened to him, flanking you and Childe so that nobody from the crowd got anywhere near you.

The trip to the palace was easy, especially with six of the fatui harbingers leading you there, one of them holding you.

Childe entered the throne room with you in his arms, the other harbingers already in the room and the ones that came to escort you took their places beside the Tsaritsa. Carefully, Childe set you down on your own two feet, holding your hand as you adjusted to the pain that shot up your legs.

The Tsaritsa stood up and so did the rest of the harbingers. She approached you, slowly, and you shivered. You gribbed Childe's hand tightly and looked at him with wild panic. You stumbled back away from her, your feet not ready for the wild movement and stumbling. Childe caught you before you fell and sent you a comforting smile.

It'll be okay. He signed with his hands. You frowned but didn't move much when the Tsaritsa was before you. Still, you were trembling from head to toe.

That is until she got on her knees, bowing for you, "Your grace, welcome to Sneznhaya. I've heard of what the archons and the people of Teyvat have done to you. I assure you, your grace, that nothing like that will happen here. You will be safe and no harm will befall you. Not as long as Sneznhnaya stands." She held out her hand, silently asking for yours.

You sent a quick glanced to Childe and cautiously held out your pinky for her hand.

She smiled softly, so soft it was hard to see but it was there. It was rare sight for the rest of Teyvat but you were sure it'd be easy to become addicted to the warmth in such a small gesture. She gently held your pinky up to her lips and kissed it.

"Come and eat, I'm sure it's been a long journey for you." The Tsaritsa said, standing up, "You can finally rest. If you require anything please just say the word and it shall be provided."

You sat at a table with the rest of the harbingers and the Tsaritsa, a large and lavish meal sitting in front of you. The smell was mouthwatering but you knew it'd taste the exact same as everything else you'd eaten.

You pressed your mouth into a thin line nervously. You were sat right beside the Tsaritsa and Childe near the head of the table. There was no doubt everyone's eyes were on you.

Go for the easy to swallow foods and ones with good texture. Just say you're a picky eater or something. Shit, I eat so weirdly.

Your hands were shaking and your mouth refused to open. Even when you forced yourself to scoop up some mush that looked yummy and easy to swallow, your jaw remained clamped shut.

You slammed down the utensil, frustrated.

Childe smiled, "Not hungry your grace?"

You shook your head, a strained smile tugged at your lips.

"You're not that talkative are you?" One of the harbingers said, "Are you nervous?"

You held up an X to your mouth at the same time Childe said, "They're mute." A deadly undertone to his words.

"Really?" The Tsaritsa looked at you, "I didn't know... none of Teyvat ever said anything about you being mute."

You merely shrugged. Not like you could say anything about it without a piece of paper or better knowledge of sign language.

Childe hummed, "I hadn't known either until I met them..."

A servant of the palace, dressed unbelievably well, starting pouring drinks, starting with you. They poured wine into each of your glasses, a frown tugged on your lips.

You tugged on Childe's sleeve and made the water sign with your hand. He smiled warmly and nodded, "They want water." He called to the servant.

The servant nodded, "Of course."

The Tsaritsa hummed, "We have other drinks your grace, you can have whatever you want, i implore you to try any of Sneznhaya's drinks."

You briefly recalled an alcoholic drink Childe had mentioned before. You weren't sure how you'd handle alcohol with... without your tongue, but until it kicked in you're sure you'd be able to crush him in an alcoholic competition.

Still, you shook your head. Water. OK. You signed with a smile.

"If you insist your grace." The Tsaritsa said, barely emotion slipping into her voice.

It was later, during breakfast the next day, when they started to worry. No matter what, you couldn't force yourself to eat in front of people. Your jaw clamped up and even when you drank water, your teeth chomped down on the glass. Hiding the inside of your mouth so nobody could see or reach it again.

"Your grace, I love you and would never dream of hurting you, but if I have to I will shove food down your throat." Childe gently threatened during breakfast.

You whined and slumped in your seat. You had already tried to eat so many times but you couldn't! You physically couldn't force yourself to!

The Tsaritsa frowned, "Your grace, please eat. I don't know why you won't but your body is hurt and needs the food to heal. Not to mention you look underweight."

You frowned, frustrated tears threatening to exit your eyes. You made a writing motion with your hand.

Childe tilted his head, "You want a pen and paper your grace?"

You nodded. The Tsaritsa snapped and one of the servants on standby scurried off, returning barely a few minutes later with the items.

You scribbled sloppily on the paper, I can't force myself to eat.

Your hands shook uncontrolably as you couldn't help but think of what led you to this. The memories played on repeat in your mind, even while you slept. Every moment, awake or not, on replay in your mind, was how slowly your tongue was cut off. All of the blood. How it slipped down your throat and out of your mouth choking you until you almost vomitted.

"Your grace." Childe held your body close to his, lifting you from your seat to put you on his lap.

Stars were falling from your eyes, crashing down to your lap in meteor showers. You hiccuped uncontrolablly, your hands slapped over your mouth. Heaving your breaths as your ribs remembered how helpless they were on that day. How they couldn't support themselves and were crashing in like an abandoned house.

The Tsaritsa stood up to stand beside you and Childe, placing her hand on your shoulder, "Your grace?" You voice ever so slightly quivered.

You looked up at Childe, even without your voice your eyes were screaming for help. Trembling, you hands lowered from your mouth. Your jaw unclenched but was still stiff as it lowered. You made the motion to stick your tongue out.

Childe and the Tsaritsa were confused at first but your eyes were so haunted there was obviously something wrong-

The entire Sneznhaya felt the temperature drop to a temperature that shouldn't have been possible. The Tsaritsa had to conciously tell herself to let go of you or she would've frozen and crushed you. Childe's blood boiled even though the floor around the Tsaritsa was now complete ice. Firey hot electro charged rage coursed through the blood pumping in his veins.

They'd never be able to forget the haunted look in your eyes. How your tongue was missing. The cut left behind gave away how it had been cut painfully and slowly with a dull blade.

The Tsaritsa clenched her jaw, her anger was ready to freeze the entirety of Teyvat, "Did those archons do this?"

Taglist <3 (if you want to be added just ask :)) @irethepotato @messler31 @under-a-starry-night @give-xiao-almond-tofu @azempyrea @chaotictrain @5-stirling-heartstrings @birozu @thatpotatobitch @sharieb @soup-flavoredsoup @tsukimiru @fearthehime @sweetstrawberrybabe @kitsamii @julietdelamare @kevinkeqing

(if i did the taglist wrong pls tell me, I don't wanna annoy anyone :))

#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin cult au #self aware genshin #childe #childe teaching the reader sign language #is just so cute to me #the tsaritsa #the tsaritsa is OUR girlfriend

2K notes · View notes

annikasevenshots · 2 years

Text

Star Trek Picard: S2E9 Reaction (spoilers!)

the gods have bestowed me with a download link, so here i am! one day early! completely wrecked!

AGNES BOARDING THE SHIP IN THAT RED DRESS IS SO HOT OF HER

OMG THATS HOW BORGATI GETS THE BODY???????????? SHES SO COOL?????????????

La Sirena... ASSEMBLE <3

*chuckles* i am in fear

Agnes' monologue 😳🤌

"I'm not an idiot and I didn't memorise the code" ME PROMISING MY FRIENDS I'LL KEEP THEIR SECRET BY SIMPLY NOT REMEMBERING IT

EMERGENCY COMMAND HOLOGRAM??????? THE DOCTOR IS SO SO PROUD RN

ELNOR ❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️

okay that grenade to dream transition is so fucken lame. 0/10

smh not the "You're doing better" to *clams up and regresses* pipeline

Seven with her phaser so hot so true <3

Raffi and Seven being together in every shot so true so true 😭🙏🏻

Picard using his British Loud Voice lmfaooo

"You will die running" as if Picard can run............

HOLD ON SEVEN LOOKING TO RAFFI TO CHECK IF SHES OK AND RAFFI NODDING HELLO THEYRE SUCH LESBIANS

HOLY FUCK THAT SHOT OF THEM KILLING HIM... TOGETHER. TOGETHER?????? HOLY FUCK HOLY BJDHDNSNSB AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

why do we have haunted house elements in a star trek show i-🧍‍♀️

can... we move on... from the hide and seek... thing...

RAFFI BANDAGING SEVEN?????????? YALL ARE KILLING ME

RAFFIS HAND ON HER WAIST HELLO OKAY YOU USELESS LESBIANS

WAIT A MINUTE EXPOSITION????????? SEVENS BACKSTORY???????? JANEWAY MENTION?????????????? HOLY FUCK STARFLEET BORGPHOBIA????????? HOLY FUCK.

okay janeway you didn't fight harder because??????????? fuck you ❤️

that just roundhouse kicked me out of nowhere

YOU WILL MAKE A GREAT CAPTAIN??????????????????? SO TRUE SEVEN OF NINE CAPTAIN OF RAFFIS HEART

"WE'RE NOT GETTING OUT OF THIS????" THAT *LOOK* BETWEEN THEM??????? THAT MOMENT??????? THAT *B E A T*?????? F C K FKC FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUCK

Elnor's sword 🥺

If Yvette Picard is the borg queen i'm downing my drink*

*drink: is starbucks

Gun: runs out of bullets

Picard: grunts and puts it away

IVE MISSED YOU SPACE LEGOLAS GO LITTLE ROCKSTAR APPLE OF MY EYE 😭

COOL! ELNOR AND RAFFI HAVE A MOMENT! -sipppppp-

Seven having an idea?????? i am Scared

ELNOR AND RAFFI HAVING ANOTHER MOMENT??????? SIP.

SPACE MOMS AND THEIR SON WORKING TOGETHER SO TRUE

BORGATI AND ELNOR FIGHT NOOOOO NOT MY BABIES FIGHTING

the babies are fightingggggggg

SEVEN AND RAFFI WORK SO WELL TOGETHER. FUCK. LIKE THEY ARE LITERALLY A POWER COUPLE AND THIS DIRECTOR FRAMES IT SO WELL

SEVEN NO

SEVEN NO NO NO NO NO

NO NO NO NO NO O NO NO NO NO MO NO NO

SO BQ CAN JUST WHACK RAFFI WITH HER TENTACLES BUT SHE NEEDS TO IMPALE SEVEN THROUGH THE CHEST????? FUCK

LOVE????????????? BQ TALKS TO RAFFI ABOUT SEVEN AND THE FIRST THING SHE TALKS ABOUT IS LOVE?????????

STOP MAKING SEVEN DIE. FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU

Agnes becomes benevolent!BQ? sip!

LETS BUILD A UNIVERSE OF SEVENS????????????????????? OHHHH MY HOD OHBH MY HKFB FIFHDBDBJDJSNN OHGHFHFHGHFBFB

ummmm why are we having another rios and teresa kiss before... you know

SEVEN BECOMING REASSIMILATED??? SHOT 🤠

SEVENS IMPLANTS BEING BACK. FUCK ME.

REMEMBER WHEN I SAID I WANTED THEM BACK. UM SHE LOOKS DEVASTATED. I DONT WANT THEM BACK ANYMORE LEAVE HER ALONE LET HER BE HAPPY JUST LET HER BE HAPPY JUST LET HER B

are we sort of romanticising s*icide. i don't like this. can we not do this.

where is q in all of this by the way

star trek picard saying love is a gift and not letting seven and raffi kiss? fuck off ❤️

oh god.

YES RAFFI YES YES YES YES YES YES YES SAY IT SAY IT SAY IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS FUCK

CTYING IN THE CLUB CRYING IN YHE CLUB CRINY IN THR CLUB

CRYING CRYING CRYING CRYING CRYING IN YHR CLUB CRYINY DOBBING SCREAMING THROWING UP

rios being like "oh man. thats my ship" same bestie

"MY SHIP" "MY SHIP" DYING

"IM MYSELF" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I AM SOBBING I AM CHOKING I AM NOT OKAY

in conclusion, if you haven't figured it out, i made a drinking game bingo thing for this episode. also, no one talk to me for 3-7 business days.

#star trek picard #s2e9 #reaction #i don't even have the energy to tag this anymore. I'm shattered i'm destroyed #raffi x seven #saffi #r/7 #seven x raffi #raffi/seven #seven/raffi #seven of nine #raffi musiker #jean luc picard #agnes jurati #borg queen #borgati #borgnes #jurati was a standout for me btw we love her #picard spoilers

74 notes · View notes

futurewriter2000 · 3 years

Text

Back Home

A/N: The fact that I spent 15 minutes looking for a gif and still didn't find the one that would be perfect, I gave up and just put a photo on. I love this fic however, one of my favorites and I hope you will too.

REQUEST:hiiiii! i hope you’re having a wonderful day, filled with sunshine & rainbows !! 💫✨ may i please request sirius x daughter! reader imagine where the reader is staying with sirius for the first time since he went to azkaban and when she goes to bed he tries to tuck her in but struggles because the last time he’d have done it, he probably would’ve read her a story but she’s presumably grown out of that by now and so he’s not really sure what to do ? 🥺🍄

All those easy days finally led to now- today. He had prepared thousands of different speeches, conversations, scenes inside his head but when it came to those last moments of seeing you for the first time since he had been taken away from you, nothing could make his heart beat faster than the simple thought of that. His hands were clamming up, his fingers were snapping due to all the anxiety, his knuckles cracking, his golden family ring twisting on his middle finger...

Nothing could have prepared him for today. Not thousands of different speeches or comforting words of his best friend, who had been taking care of you for the last few years. Maybe that was a bit comforting; for Remus to keep his promise to him, even though he thought he was a murderer, he still took you in. Remus with his good wolf-like heart, despite all the things he believed.

He told Sirius you wouldn't care how he was dressed but Sirius had changed about seven times already. Tie or no tie? Bow or no bow? A jacket or a blazer? Jeans or pants? Hair combed or natural? Shaved or not shaved?

It all led him to here; him pacing up and down the living room, twisting his family ring on his finger as another mistake has caught his eye. "This probably should be put away?" he continued to look at the black family vase. "KREACHER!" he shouted and the small elf appeared from thin air.

"Yes, Master-"

"Put this vase away. Hide it, throw it- I don't care. Just get it out of my sight." he spoke nervously and the elf obeyed, cursing under his breath.

He heard the door open and a loud laughter echo through the hall. Your laughter- it wasn't as small and high as he remembered it to be but it was still yours- that he definitely knew.

"Oh this place hasn't changed at all, Moony." you said as you had looked around the hall, a nostalgic rush of memories running through your head. "Grandpa told me he always hated this portrait of him. Said his nose was too large."

Sirius chuckled. That was true. He always did hate the portrait of him in the hall but never said anything because of his wife.

"Never said anything because of my wretched grandmother." you repeated his thoughts.

"Your grandmother was more than just wretched, Paddy." Remus smiled and grabbed your luggage. "I'll take these upstairs. I think you remember where your room was."

"Up, left, three doors down." you finger gunned him and made your way through the hall.

When you entered the living room, you were alone. Nothing but the same old black leather sofa, the magnificent fireplace you used to warm up with your grandfather when you visited- though where is grandpa. You swore his jar was right on the fireplace. A dark ugly vase.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around if somebody has placed it somewhere else. When you did, your eyes met his.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you felt yourself standing completely still. Something cut you in half, maybe the way he had watched you but when you came out of your shock, you realised it was still the same warm, fuzzy, homely feeling that washed over you.

"Wow." he smiled, looking at you from head to toe. Your hair was long and he was quite surprised because when you were a child, you always hated long hair. Too much brushing- you used to say. Your eyes were welcoming, bright and similar. He used to tell you that they reminded him a bit of his younger brother, Regulus. He used to have that same welcoming and bright look in his eyes when he was a little boy. It wasn't much in the shape or the colour but in they way they saw the world, which scared him and inspired him at the same way.

You were not a little girl anymore. You had grown. You had gotten curves and a womanly-like shape. Of course, jeans and a leather jacket. Reminds him of himself when he was your age. Your face was full of youth and you looked taken care for.

"You're definitely not a little girl anymore." he said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Yeah." you smiled, sitting down and looking a bit around. "Twenty. Even I'm starting hard to believe it." you smiled and patted the seat next to you.

"Twenty." he sighed under his breath. He felt his heart sink and his shoulders slump. He had missed everything. From your childhood, to your first day at Hogwarts, your first date, graduation,...

"You haven't changed much." you said and he looked at you, laughing a bit.

"You think so?"

"Yeah." you shook your head. "Your hair is still long, your eyes a bit tired."

He kept quiet. Yes, he was tired. He was exhausted from hiding all the time, from living in that prison, filled with revenge for that rat. "He calls you Paddy still." Sirius smiled, referring to the nickname Remus had given you. "He used to do that from the moment you were born. Little Padfoot, he called you."

"Oh, he had told me all about the day I was born. You fainting in the middle."

"I just had to lay down for a while, okay. He's over-exaggerating." he started to defend himself.

"Bet." you laughed and he joined you.

"He told me you're training to become an Auror."

"Yeah. Guess, I take after my old man." you smiled brightly at him, melting his heart into a puddle of love and pride. When you saw him melt in front of your eyes, you put your hand on his knee and gave him a comforting look. "I always believed you were innocent. I just could never prove it."

"Oh, darling." he couldn't help himself, pulling you into a hug and letting tears fall down his cheeks at the words you had said. "I don't think you know how much I needed to hear that."

---

The whole experience of being here felt nostalgic. You knew you had been here before, stepped on those same stairs, dug your toes in that same rug, put your watch on that same night stand,... even the sheets felt as light and silky as it did when you were only a child. You didn't mind spending your time here. Your grandmother was strict, more than you heard but your grandfather was soft, nothing like you had heard from Remus or your dad or Regulus... not that you remember your uncle much. You had some faint memories of him but he simply disappeared one day and neither of your grandparents wanted to mention his name ever again. A forbidden name but it was his room, you occupied and whenever you laid here, more connected you felt to him and your roots when your father was away.

You spent weekends here or week days here. Remus was always in search of jobs and some months he couldn't provide for the both of you so you had spent some years here. Your grandfather melted at your sight, he simply adored you and he reminded you so much of your own father. Your grandmother always told you that you had made him go soft but grandchildren tend to do that. You knew she was softer to you as well, more than she was with your father and your uncle. Your grandfather said that she wanted to do right by you, not drive you away like she did with her sons. He knew because he did just the same.

There was a knock on the door that took you far away from the old memories. "Come in." you said gently and a curly-head lad popped his head in.

He gave you the usual smile- just the one that had been filled till your 6th year of life.

"I came in here to wish you good night." he said as he entered the room, keeping something behind his back. "Oh wow." he looked around the room, feeling a little chill run down his spine as the memories of his brother ran through his mind. "It's just as I remember it. You didn't change it much."

"No. I didn't feel the need."

"I wonder where is he." Sirius said in a low whisper, barely audible to you. You decided to let go of this topic.

"I wanted to ask you something."

He turned back to you and sat down at the edge of your bed. "Shoot."

"What happened to grandpa?" you asked, causing Sirius' eyes to furrow. "His ashes? Did you spread them anywhere?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The urn. It used to sit up on the fireplace. It was a large black one. I know this place he used to take me just before he passed away. Only me and him knew about it. He never told grandmother about this place and he made me promise that it will be out little secret. It's a cave somewhere in Ireland. Cliffs of Moher, I believe."

"Wait..." he stopped you a bit. "That big ugly black vase was filled with his ashes?"

"Yes?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh..." he felt his cheeks flush and you could see his eyes bulk out.

"Have you done something to the urn?"

"No, no. Of course not. I just put it in a much safer place." he lied and you could see right through it. He definitely did something to the urn but you let it pass, since the object in his hand pulled more of your attention.

"Alright. What's that in your hand?" you pointed and he quickly looked down.

"Oh, this." he pulled it out and it was a big thick book- a book you had a clear memory of. "It's silly, you probably don't remember it anymore."

You let out a laugh. "You're joking, right?" you sat up gently took the book away from him. "The Tales of Beedle the Bard!" you let out another excited laugh. "How could I not remember this? You used to read it to me every night. I could not fall asleep without it."

Sirius felt his poor heart explode in his chest. God, you still had that little girl inside of you. The one he tucked in every night but always resister with your tiny little legs because it was always too hot.

"I thought you'd have outgrown it.." he said quietly.

"If my friends ask me, yes but between you and me-" you leaned forward and whispered. "This is a little secret."

He let out another laugh. "Would you like me to read it to you again?"

You smiled widely. "I'd love for you to read it but dad-" you said and is eyes snapped to you, wide in surprise as it was the first time you had called him that in so many year. "- wouldn't you rather... get the Urn back first before Kreacher throws it away?"

"Probably a good idea but I'll be back." he stood up and ran out of the room, causing you to laugh at the sight but when he did come back with his father in his arms, he already saw you asleep in your bed.

He gently put his father on the desk and made his way to you. The book was open in the middle, one of yours and his favorite tales. He scooped the book up and placed it beside the vase. Then he remembered just how much his father hated these fairytale based books, so he pushed it far away from him.

"Even when your dust, I can't trust you." he said, narrowing his eyes at the vase before going back to you and observing you for a moment.

If he really thought about it, he didn't really lose you. Maybe time did take a way some of the precious memories he wanted to share with you but you turned out beautiful. You turned out to be this amazing, forgiving and understanding angel that still loved to read fairytales and take care of people when they were already ash.

He grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled it up to your chin, tucking you neatly just as he would when you were a child. Then he could hear something happening at the foot of the bed and see your bare feet poking out. He let out a small laugh.

"Some habits stay the same." he said, pushing away the strands on your forehead and giving you a gentle kiss. He then quietly took the book and his father, smiling that he gets to spend the rest of his life, creating new memories with you.

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #harry potter #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #james potter #james potter imagine #sirius black x reader

94 notes · View notes