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erina-writes-headcanons · 1 month

Note

I can ask for headcanons of the reaction of Spain, Germany, Austria, Hungary and Prussia, to the fact that Prussia adopted a girl who was a Latin nation that Spain conquered only because the amazing boy prussia seemed tender to her?

Antonio Fernández Carriedo (SPAIN), Ludwig Beilschmidt (GERMANY), Roderich Edelstein (AUSTRIA), Elizabeta Héderváry (HUNGARY), and Gilbert Beilschmidt (PRUSSIA) REACTION TO PRUSSIA ADOPTED LATIN NATION FROM SPAIN

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A/N: Hey there @chiless. I hope you like the final result because if I had to be honest. I don't have any knowledge of Latin History and I have never written this kind of Headcannon.

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Profanities

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Antonio Fernández Carriedo - Spain

Poor Boy was jealous when his own buddy got all chummy with you, the personification of Latin because he was the one who had taken care of you.

The first time, he would not let Prussia get close to you because he believed he was capable more of taking care of you than him since he believes he has more capability (I mean he takes care of Romano).

But that doesn't mean he would not let his own best friend interact with you because once he sees how tender Prussia is with Latin. He realizes Prussia is reliable.

When the two of you bond better, he starts to trust Prussia more to take care of you because he sees how gentle and caring he is despite Prussia being very reckless.

Sometimes, he would let Prussia be your babysitter when he is really busy, especially when he is overworking to pay the debt (but still doesn't trust him completely).

He also remembers Prussia taking care of Ludwig when he was younger so he knows Prussia can be a great brother or caretaker for you.

However, if Prussia actually did mess up and if he sees any small injury. He would actually pick a fight with Prussia despite the two of them being buddies.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Antonio could not believe his own eyes as he was running around to look for you, the personification of Latin. But let's recap what was happening before this happened. It was Saturday in the afternoon around 2 o'clock. Antonio has a stack of files given by his boss and it has to be finished today or he will get an even larger stack of files that need to be done.

He could not help but sigh before he crouched down right in front of Latin with a sad smile on his face. As the personification and the new country, you did not understand why your older brother looked as if he was sad but trying to smile for you "My dear Hermano (Sister/brother), I am sorry that I cannot play with you for today. The boss wants me to finish all of my job. You can play outside and play with Romano," he patted your head.

Of course, hearing this makes you a little bit sad because you could not hang out with your brother. He has been really busy lately and it is as if he has no time for you. "Okay, I will play with Romano," the little you nodded before running out of the room. But you know Romano can be mean, you don't really want to be yelled at by your brother Romano so you got out of the house to play outside.

Your little feet carry you to the wilderness where you can see all the small critters and insects and have a little adventure near the house. Nevertheless, you did not realize someone was spying on you. The person following you with a sword in their hand and a grin on his face, the old man getting closer and closer to you as your back facing the dangerous man.

Before the man could swing the sword to you, a scream could be heard but it doesn't sound familiar to you. It sounds rough and deep with the heavy laughter of 'Kesesese'. "Komm weg von dem kleinen Kind!(Get away from that little kid!) Or the avesome me going to kick jour ass!" The sound surprises you as you turn around.

A man with messy white hair, pale skin and a pair of red eyes like a ruby swung his sword at the man who was behind you. The older man quickly blocked his sword but it got yeeted away. The edge of your saviour's sword was pointed at the neck of the assassin who almost killed you. "Go avay from them/her/him," Prussia said. "....Finem you will regret this," the old man ran away,

Prussia then sheath his sword back with a smirk on his face, his hand gently tousling your hair. "Be careful next time, ja? Jou must be Latin, The avesome I am Prussia. Your brother's friend. Tell your brother vhat happened earlier. I'm sure he's looking for you."

Right after Prussia said those, you could hear your older brother's voice from far away and you turned around to see Spain with a worried face but it turned into a relief when he saw it was Prussia. "Ah Prussia, You found my younger sibling. Thank you so much for helping me find Latin. I was so worried," Spain trudges closer before his hand shaking with Prussia's hands. "It vas no problem. The avesome me will not let any danger get close to jour sibling."

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Ludwig Beilschmidt - Germany

At first time when he sees his older brother adopting a little country from Latin, he thinks the older brother would mess it up and it would be a bad idea because he thinks he would be a bad influence.

But he also remembers when he was younger, Prussia also had taken care of him despite Prussia being kind of a lunatic brother and sometimes endangering himself.

So he would actually volunteer to take care of Latin. Usually, he would be the one who also takes the hardest part since he is disciplined despite being awkward.

Secretly, he's proud when he sees Prussia being all soft and gentle around Latin. He knows even though Prussia is loud and obnoxious, Prussia is a caring person deep inside.

But would also scold his older brother when Prussia is being reckless, muttering to himself who is actually the older brother in the family.

Ludwig helps him by preparing the necessities he needs to adopt Latin by preparing all kinds of foods, cleaning supplies and other necessities.

His heart is melting though when he sees Latin being all giggly and having fun with Prussia. This is until Prussia tries to drag Latin into some trouble. Then he will try to stop them

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

After the incident of the bad guy trying to assassinate you, the clothes were dirty from the dust and a little bit of blood since you had fallen when Prussia was blocking the guy. Seeing your condition, Prussia could not help but sigh loudly while wiping the sweat on his forehead away. "Thank God that guy is gone for good, Vho was he?" Prussia asks Spain. "I'm not sure but I think it's those humans that try to steal the country's power," Spain shrugs.

The certain albino could not help but sigh loudly at Antonio's answer because he could be right and the old man would go back at any time so they needed to go back. "Spain, since my place is near. Jou and jour little bruder (brother)/schwester(sister) can stay at my place for a bit. (Y/N) can vear my Bruder's old clothes. I still have many of them and the avesome me think it could be a great idea to hide (Y/N) in my place." "Sure, that will be a great idea. Can you take care of Latin for a while? I think it will be safe," Spain gently pats your head "Kesesese, you can trust me," Prussia winks.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

A certain tall German man walked along the street and followed the light as the sky got darker. Twisting the doorknob open and pushing it away, he places the coat on the hanger as well as the hat before putting the shoes away. "Bruder, I'm back from the meeting," It was the younger brother of Prussia who had just gotten back from the world meeting.

As he turns around, he sees a little kid in the living room with his old clothes when he was younger. He could not believe his own eyes of what he just saw right now, his eyes blinking repeatedly before he rubbed his eyes with his hands. 'A little kid in this house. Don't tell me my dummkopf Bruder had knocked up some woman and made me take care of this kid,' His face went cold as this thought swarmed inside of him.

He was going to take a deep breath and call Gilbert but he could hear the sound of Gilbird chirping nearby and Prussia with all of his glory, came from the kitchen with a half-eaten toast in his hand. "Kesesese, my bruder just got home! And jou meet the avesome latin!"Prussia exclaimed as he put the toast away. "Bruder! Don't tell me you kidnapped Spain's bruder /schwester! Spain is going to be mad!" Germany glares at his older brother. "Nein!!! I did not kidnap Latin at all! An unavesome old man vas going to kill him/her/them and zhe avesome me kick the old man ass!" Prussia explains quickly

Hearing his explanation made Ludwig's face even colder as his eyes widened and his face turned slightly blue. Nevertheless, it was gone in a second before he took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. "So let me get this straight. Someone tried to kill Spain's sibling and jou saved this kid?" Ludwig asks. "Ja, and Spain vitnessed it if you don't believe me," Prussia stuck his tongue out. "Vell it does sound make sense vhen it doesn't come from you. But since you said Spain saw the incident. I vill ask him about it and I think it's better ve buy some clothes and some foods for Latin," Germany said.

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Roderich Edelstein - Austria

Another guy who also doesn't trust Prussia around children, he thinks Prussia is dangerous, loud, and could not take care of himself, especially children.

As a result, he would always worry about Latin's condition when he was around Prussia because he didn't want Latin to grow up to be like him.

Even if Spain tries to convince him that he can trust Prussia. he would not believe him until he could see it with his own eyes when Prussia was tender and caring towards Latin.

Just like Germany, he would also volunteer to take care of Latin because he thinks Prussia could not take care of a country even though he knows that Prussia did take care of Germany

Unlike Germany, he just hopes that Prussia won't endanger you or drag you to cause trouble because he knows Prussia tends to be irresponsible, especially when he is drunk.

With the help of Hungary, he would also take care of Latin when Prussia was not around. He would also teach Latin how to play music just like him (but fails because we know Latin probably plays guitar from Spain).

He does know Prussia has a soft spot for a tiny country like you but he also remembers Prussia is a country that has disappeared so one day he hopes once he is gone. You won't be too brokenhearted.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

The news that Prussia would take care of Latin after saving the little country from a bad guy spread fast after Ludwig told Hungary and Austria about it. No one believed it and as a result, a certain pianist player wanted to see you by himself to confirm that Ludwig was right about Prussia taking care of Latin.

After a long hour of driving, the door of Ludwig's house busted open with Roderich standing there. His eyes immediately went to Ludwig who was sighing in annoyance, knowing he had to repair that door again after Italy and Prussia often burst them open unlike how normal people act. "Is it true, your brother adopting Latin?" Austria asks Germany. "Ja, jou did not read my message vrong. My bruder is taking care of Latin,"

Austria sat on one of the couches, crowing his arms together, eyebrows furrowed before he looked at him in a serious tone. "May I speak with Prussia alone?" Austria asks Germany "Ya, he is in his room and working out. I vill be calling him," Germany stood up and strutted downstairs, going to Prussia's bedroom to tell him that there's Austria and he wants to talk with him.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

The air between Gilbert and Roderich was intense but in an unusual way like when Gilbert annoys him just for shits and giggles. Roderich's pulse raced as he got the question, his voice quivering slightly as he asked Gilbert if the story included any of the truth. "Is it true, Prussia? Did you really save that kid from the bad man?" "Ja, it's true, I swooped in and rescued the little one from that stranger," Prussia's tone laced confidently. "Are you planning to take in the little kid, Gilbert?" Roderich questioned, his tone tinted with curiosity as he saw the toddler playing close.

Gilbert scratched his head, thinking about the question for a time. "vell, I haven't really thought about it," he said, his brow furrowing in thought. "But Latin could use a stable home, I guess." Roderich groaned and shook his head, exasperated. "You can't just suppose when it comes to raising a child, Gilbert," he reminded. "You'll need to buy necessities - education, clothes, food, and so much more."

Gilbert's face softened as he understood the seriousness of the issue. "Jou are right, Austria. It's been a long time since I had to care for someone so young. I'll have to work things out. He cast another gaze at the child, overcome in his eyes. "But I'll do whatever it takes to give Latin the best life possible."

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Elizabeta Héderváry - Hungary

She thinks you are the most adorable country after Italy and the most precious thing in the world that must be protected at all costs so she would be your other sittter.

Very surprised when she knows that Prussia is taking care of you and being brotherly around you because she thinks Prussia is too reckless and couldn't even take care of a baby.

Always tries to hit Prussia with her pan if she even sees any small injuries on you, even If it was not Prussia's fault and blames him for not taking care of you properly.

Always tries to steal you away from Prussia and become your guardian instead of him. Even if she knows Prussia took care of Germany when he was younger, she still doesn't trust him.

Tries to bribe you too so she would be your favourite guardian instead of Prussia, especially bribing you with Hungarian or Austrian sweets (by asking Roderich).

Only trust Prussia to take care of you when there is Germany because she knows Prussia is going to drag you into some trouble and teach you bad things.

Sadly, you cannot change her mind, unlike Austria and Spain even if Prussia proves to her that he can take care of you but at least you got double sweets from her and from Prussia.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

As Prussia and Austria thought about Latin's future, their talk was unexpectedly interrupted by Hungary's powerful entry, her presence instilling dread in Prussia's heart as her eyes drilled into him with a stare that could freeze fire. She wore a long green dress with a flawless white apron and a floral hairclip on her head, and she held a pan with a no-nonsense demeanour.

Prussia was caught off guard and swore under his breath in German, his look reflecting his worry at the imminent rebuke from Hungary, while Austria gazed on, a mixture of concern and amusement playing over his features. Oh, Scheiße, vhy is Hungary pissed at me?" Prussia asks Austria "I'm not sure but maybe it's about the kid" Austria sensed the reason why she acts like this.

Hungary marched towards Gilbert, her determination apparent demanding answers with fierce passion. "Did you kidnap Latin from Spain?" she questioned, her voice full of scepticism Prussia's decline was quick and clear. "No! I would never do such a thing! "I simply saved her from a dangerous situation," he stated, his palms lifted in an innocent gesture.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Hungary's demeanour softened as she dropped her pan, her doubts eased by (Y/N)'s explanation. She sighed and sat down next to Roderich, her eyes fixed on Prussia. "Alright," she said, her tone stern yet interested. "Explain everything. How did you manage to adopt Latin?"

Prussia took a deep breath before describing the events that led to Latin's adoption. With Roderich's help, he described his meeting with the dangerous man endangering the developing nation, as well as his later choice to provide them safety. Hungary listened closely as he talked, her attitude changing from suspicion to understanding. By the end of his explanation, she had nodded thoughtfully, realising the seriousness of the situation and the need of Prussia's actions.

Elizaveta sighed with relief after she listened to Prussia's explanation, her heart warmed by the severity of the situation. She rose to her feet and smiled gently, her glance expressing an understated pledge of support. "I'll help you," she answered simply, her voice bearing a calm determination. "We'll gather everything Latin needs."

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Gilbert Beilschmidt - Prussia

Doesn't expect he will actually adopt Latin because he doesn't really believe that he is capable of taking care of a smaller nation or himself, his younger brother always helps around taking care of him.

He does remember that he did take care of Germany when he was younger but that's only it. After he stops becoming a country, it's Germany who has taken care of him.

Afraid to mess up, he would often call Spain to help him around but he also helped Spain take care of Latin when he had free time, sometimes asking his brother's help too.

Tries his best not to curse around because he doesn't want Latin to take his negative habits by swearing and drinking until drunk. So he puts all of his beer on the highest cupboard and always tries to censor himself around you.

Tries to be the best big brother for you. Always teach you how to play swords because he used to be a Teutonic knight in the past but used a wooden sword so you would not get hurt.

Becoming your partner in crime. For example, if Germany doesn't let you each chocolate cake. He will secretly slip some cakes for you because he feels bad when you have sad puppy eyes and beg Germany for some sweets.

Also, tries to spend his time a lot together with you when he has free items and when you are bored. Sometimes, would purposely loose for you so you could be happy.

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As the sun poured its golden beams across the peaceful Saturday morning, Spain softly handed over Latin to Prussia and Germany, his face remorseful as he explained his absence in a quick text message. With a hard schedule and upcoming meetings, he reluctantly surrendered Latin's care to his brother nations, a sense of duty resting heavily on his shoulders. And as he wished them farewell, vowing to return soon.

Mi Amigo(My friend) . I am very sorry but today the meeting is very hectic and I have lots of files given by my boss. Today, I cannot take care of Latin so I hope you can take care of Latin for me. That was the message Spain had given to Prussia as the Albino read the text message and Latin who was sitting in the living room.

Prussia went silent for a minute, his mind drifting, and then a cheeky smile appeared on his face, followed by his signature "Kesesese" giggle. His eyes focused on the young Latin, recalling his brother's fondness for baking. "Hey, are you hungry?" he said, his tone playful yet warm to the younger nation "I have a delicious chocolate cake waiting for you."

The young nation's ears perked up at the mention of cake, excitement evident in her nod. Prussia leaned in closer, whispering, "Follow me," before leading the way to the kitchen with Latin in tow. As he swung open the fridge door, a smirk played on his lips. "You must be hungry," he remarked, his tone was secretive.

"I have chocolate cakes for us." With ease, he cut two large slices, one for Latin and one for himself. With a delighted grin, he returned the cake to its proper spot in the fridge, ready to enjoy the stolen cake. After serving the cake, he would eat the cake together with Latin without Germany knowing them.

Once they finished their cake, Prussia put his finger to his lips, signalling for silence, and whispered to (Y/N), "Don't tell anyone we had chocolate cake, okay? If you keep it a secret, we can play with Berlitz, Aster, and Blackie all day. Then, we can watch some cartoons." (Y/N) nodded eagerly, agreeing to the plan. As Prussia collected the plates and washed the dirty dishes to hide any evidence, (Y/N) watched on, excited for the day ahead.

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shirogane-oushirou · 3 months

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AAAAAAAAAAA RO!!! BESTIE!!!! YOUR TAGS ARE DESTROYING ME RN /POS

I just had to send you an ask in response because oouughghghhhh... my feels... 🥺💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

I actually never realized how much I look like Java until I put our faces next to each other on that moodboard!!! The resemblance between us is so uncanny - but maybe that's why they've been giving me such good gender vibes lately ☺️ Amber resembles me quite a bit as well according to another friend, which is awesome to hear as an aspiring non-human shapeshifting critter!! Seriously, I'm so thrilled that you guys see it, too!! My gender euphoria levels shot THROUGH THE ROOF when you told me that...!!!

YOUR COMPLIMENTS ON MY PHOTO TOO... *SNIFF*... 😭🫂💖 I really love how my glasses look on me!! Last time I went to the optometrist, I tried to pick frames that I felt suited me, and that happened to take me into the men's section!! My mom was a bit confused by it, but those frames spoke to me right away 🥰 I didn't care that they were supposed to be frames for prescription sunglasses!! Besides, my lenses tint in the sunlight anyway so 😎✨️✨️✨️

I saw the tags you left on my art comm too, and I SO AGREE WITH YOU. I TOTALLY GET IT. I have a ton of Rockstar gifs and screenshots saved to a folder, and I adore the shit outta them all, but... ever since I discovered my guy's gender identity, if he doesn't have scruffy facial hair or a fuzzy chest patch, or those soft, hairy limbs... or his precious top surgery scars that he's so proud of?? He feels kinda like a different Cookie to me LOL

Basically, if he ain't hairy, transmasc or genderfluid, then he ain't my husband 😌💖✨️✨️ I think my version of him really suits the voice he has in C.R.K too!! A rough, rugged old man with passion and energy to spare, but who's finally starting to settle down a bit, too... he's not quitting the rock scene, not by a long shot - but he is a bit more inclined to blow things off and disappear if Java needs him (or if he misses them enough ☺️💖). He's an absolute menace in such a playful way, and I'm so attached to him, honestly... my handsome rock beauty 🥰💖💖💖💖

AAAAAAAAAAANYWAYS. This has been my involuntary Rockstar Supremacy ted talk!! Thank you for attending since you had no choice 🤣 /lh

And as always, I appreciate your tags and comments on my stuff!! I get so happy and flappy when I see that you rbed my stuff cuz I get to read all your awesome thoughts, hehe 🤗✨️

♡• @rockstars-babe •♡

NO IT'S SO REAL THO!!!! i pogged when i saw your face next to java's akjsndfkjnsf like?????? oh they're LITERALLY just reffie ok ok ok LMAO. and i can definitely see you in amber too!!!! idk i just feel like your s/is fit you so clearly despite having such drastically different designs, it's Wild!!!

god, i really need to take that approach when i start looking into getting new frames sometime soon ;;; that's such a nice way of thinking about it. like. if you're going to put that much investment into something you're expecting to wear for a number of years straight, may as well get some that are cool as shit KJNDFKJN and have the most comfortable vibes, gender be damned.

it's so odd, bc i've mostly known rockstar through you, and 90% of the time it's been CRK rockstar... but as soon as you really 'discovered' him, it's like a switch flipped ksjndf. it just fits him so well!! and i'd especially trust that view from someone who knows as much about him as you clearly do, from all of your talk about the new game >:)

and the voice thing!!!!! that's so odd too!!!!! when i was doing that "give me a series and i'll find an f/o" ask game, i listened to a couple of his voice lines for curiosity's sake. and his voice was like... it felt like it could grow on me, but his visual image and his voice were just a little... out of sync? if that makes sense? they weren't quite lining up w each other. but as SOON as you posed the topless comm of him i was like :0 OH. THIS IS WHO THAT VOICE BELONGS TO. JKNASFKJN.

i love reading your gushes about him; you have SUCH passion for him and for everyone who makes up your cookie family with and around him. 😭 it's why i like to really consider what i say in the tags; i want to match that energy! and it's why i look forward to when YOU rb stuff!!! you put just as much passion into appreciating everyone else's ships!! you just have so much passion in general and it's something i admire about you 🥺🥺🥺

(though i would 100% be behind if you decided to not pressure yourself so much KJNSDKFJN ;; you're dealing with so much outside of selfshipping, and you should feel able to come on here and Just Chill without feeling like you have to put 200% effort into replies and tags ;w; )

#sorry if this is ramble-y i am very eepy and out of it KJSNDFKJN.#fr tho i've read this ask a number of times now and i get so happy seeing you express your love for your f/os. all of 'em.#you've put so much of yourself into your s/is and your f/os and the worlds they all inhabit; it's comforting to see how much love #you put in and how that mirrors all of that love back towards yourself! that's that Good Shit!!! 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻#idk ilu (/pl) and appreciate you so much and love seeing you around as you show your love for your beloveds!!!! 💕😊#how many times can i say love in one tag KJANSD ;;;#📌 [ my posts. ]#[ asks. ]#[ oomfies ; reffie. ]

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!)

what you heard | reader x changjin

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken.

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break.

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back.

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back.

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you.

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed.

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left.

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay?

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back.

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer.

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics.

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight.

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene.

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes.

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended.

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.”

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??”

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.”

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed.

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!”

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.”

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.”

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.”

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!”

“Hey!!”

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?”

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well.

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?”

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.”

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down.

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.”

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything.

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?”

“What’s that?”

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.””

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?”

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?”

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend.

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.”

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?”

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.”

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.”

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back.

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?”

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...”

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would.

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?”

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.”

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added.

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.”

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead.

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.”

The blond tiled his head.

“The part about being in love?”

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets.

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...”

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real.

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.”

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.”

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had.

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s.

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk.

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.”

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling.

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns.

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?”

“Like, in love, in love?”

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself.

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly.

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will.

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.”

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it.

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged.

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could.

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest.

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space.

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?”

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?”

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??”

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones.

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man.

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly.

“O-outside? Right now?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw.

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“I-I didn’t say that...”

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?”

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin.

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.”

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch.

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips.

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?”

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world.

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care.

“It doesn’t hurt to try...”

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it.

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck.

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment.

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him.

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more.

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes.

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close.

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long.

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only.

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you.

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold.

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time.

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him.

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close.

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so.

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable.

“I don’t think so?”

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for.

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get.

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this.

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch.

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?”

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him.

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy.

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.”

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength.

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole.

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?”

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him.

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you.

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you.

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back.

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member.

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth.

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises.

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours.

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit.

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper.

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.”

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips.

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?”

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth.

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard.

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs.

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them.

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release.

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too.

“Oh shit, oh shit--”

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg.

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed.

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.”

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue.

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow.

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms.

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!”

“You could’ve tried!!”

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.”

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well.

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.”

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off.

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie.

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.”

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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cozycryptidcorner · 3 years

Photo

Étienne the Fae, Part One of Two

This was commissioned by the illustrious and fantastical @monsterfolkandfiction! Thank you so much, and I hope that everyone enjoys this story as well. A second part is being drafted now.

tw: disordered eating, manipulative and abusive mother

You shouldn’t have gone into your grandfather’s basement.

You shouldn’t have gone into your grandfather’s basement. .

There were voices. Lots of voices, and you thought that a show of brilliance might grant your grandfather’s coveted attention above your cousins’. The door was unlocked, how could you not sneak a peek down the forbidden stairwell? So you crept down, hand on the rail for safety, eyes wide in the hopes of spotting something.

You remember how to summon him. Always. You’ve blocked out everything else about him, but you always remember how to call him back, even if you never will. Only in an emergency, you would always think, glaring at your mark as though he can see you through the mottled purple flesh.

You wipe a bit of sweat from your face, chewing on your lower lip as you glance over your shoulder at the ticking clock—almost midnight. The little vagrant who caused the muddy disaster you’re cleaning is asleep already, hand clutching her rag still as she lays limp on the wooden floor.

Maria is a good kid. Troubled, yes, a mischief-maker for sure, but she’s good. She’s just the type who needs a little guidance, that’s all. You didn’t bother trying to wake her back up, mostly because you know it would do no good, and honestly, it’s probably easier to finish the mess yourself without dealing with a cranky, tired child. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal, it’s not like she hasn’t managed to clean up her messes before.

Just a little bit, you tell yourself as you scrub the rest of the mud from the floor,she’s lost.

It doesn’t take you much longer to finish up the mud, the water in the bucket sloshing an earthy brown the more you pollute it with the dirt slurry on your rag. None of the nuns have walked by the entrance, which is good, because you don’t exactly want to face them. You wouldn’t even have to come up with an explanation, they’ll know, especially the head of the abbey. The last thing you’d want is for Maria to be whipped with that reedy switch some of the nuns carry around to punish unruly children.

After dumping out the bucket of dirt, you wipe your sweaty palms on your apron, letting out a bated breath. The moon has already sunk behind the hills, the night only lit by the dim candles you managed to steal out from the servant’s noses. While one might think that a place of worship would have plenty of access to such supplies, it seems like everything is scarce in the days where the darkness licks and poisons like a snake.

“Are you alright, young sister?”

Though you jump, it’s only Sister Anya, a soft, young-looking nun looking down at you with the utmost concern.

Her pale hair is highlighted by the candlelight in the most martyr-like way that you feel the urge to fall on your knees and plead for her to pray for you. Everything about her is ethereal, almost almost horrendously beautiful, blue eyes so deep and dark your lungs fill with water as though drowning when you look at her.

Trying to steady yourself, you place a hand on the wooden bannister, then nod, shakily.

She glances at the bucket you’re holding, and her gaze softens considerably. “Were the children giving you a difficult time today?”

Since you know Anya isn’t one of the nuns who believe that pain is the path to godliness, so you’re more willing to express any frustrations you might have with her. So you shrug, then roll your eyes, trying to force your tongue to work but settle for gestures instead.

Sister Anya places a hand on your shoulder sympathetic gesture.” Your nerves are high today, hm?”

Thankful you don’t have to bother explaining yourself, verbally or through a thousand of different hand positions, you nod.

Sister Anya lets out a gentle sigh. “I’m so sorry, dove, the children ought to know not to press against your patience.”

Again, you shrug, walking over to the door in order to dump the muddied bucket, before passing it to her waiting hands.

“Again,” Sister Anya says softly, “I know that you’re not obligated to be here, but you know that the children love you. Even if they aren’t always so well behaved.”

You nod in acknowledgement, having had this conversation with her before. No matter the chaos the orphanage children might instil during sunlight, you always return, knowing that the kids truly mean well at the end of the day. Memories of blood bubble in your throat, your empathy digging too deeply in your past that you feel a sense of fear.

Quickly, you bid your leave, knowing that you should have long been back in your bed. God, if your mother finds out you’ve been loitering this late-

“Oh,” Sister Anya concedes, “of course, should I walk you back?”

Quickly, you shake your head, not wishing that she put herself at risk for your own sake. After once more asking over your assuredness, Sister Anya concedes, though her concern is not at all lacking. You know that the woods host a very numerous amount of creatures, though none have dared to ever bother you. The contrast has been so stark against the countless first-hand stories than you’ve heard that you’ve almost convinced yourself that you’re invisible to their otherworldly eyes, although you still hold healthy regard for what you might not understand.

Still, on the way back, all the negative attention you might receive is brief and fleeting, most crackling within the woods retreating as though you were about to set fire to the numerous dried foliage of the coming winter. Besides, your family estate is alarmingly close, you should be within the safety of its walls shortly after embarking, the sprites and critters almost obnoxiously ignoring your presence. Ever since… the incident, you haven’t needed to take the same precautions as the rest of your peers, and thus you manage to get yourself home earlier than someone might have estimated.

There is a lot to be happy about your life, you suppose, staring blankly up at the family portrait up on the wall. Happy mother. Happy father. Their absolute disgrace of an eldest child, which is you, unfortunately. You know that there are children in that abbey who would kill to have the same privileges you do, warm bed, food whenever you need, and water that doesn’t have a rusty undertaste of dirt, so you try not to feel… ungrateful.

You lick your lips, peeking out from the hall to check for anyone making their rounds, then quickly and quietly walk by the window towards your room. It’s late, so no one should be up, but that’s never stopped your mother when she’s in one of her worse moods, and just as you predicted, you hear her rapidly approach. Now entering panic mode, you move twice as quickly, slipping into your room and shutting the door quietly behind you.

Your muscles are stiff, fingers shaking, as you desperately try to pull the pins in your hair that kept everything marginally in place as you worked, knowing that you should be at least in your nightgown at this time. The scent of roses is thick, putrid, and always the choice of perfume for your mother. You suppose that it’s nice that you can at least smell her before she fully arrives, but now you can hardly look at those flowers without feeling a pinch of anxiety flowing through your chest.

The door wrenches open, your mother neither gentle nor willing to give you those extra precious moments where you might hide something. Your brush is in hand, and you are in the process of working through the knots that had accumulated through the day, but by the look of her face in the candlelight, your supposed innocence will be deeply in question.

“Where have you been?” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, it’s all you can do to not wince when she speaks.

I was at the orphanage, mother. You can’t even look her in the eye.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to work among those pathetic waifs, girl.”

Mother doesn’t even bother with your name, especially when she’s angry. And, judging by the tone of her voice, she’s incensed by something, only you don’t even know what it is she’s accusing you of, so you can’t even offer up any meagre defences.

“Did I say you were allowed to stay until the night turns to morning? What kind of a reputation are you trying to gain, you stupid, ungrateful child?”

The only ‘men’ in that orphanage are younger than eleven, but you know that this outburst isn’t at all over your chastity.

She raises her hand, and you flinch, but the strike doesn’t come this time. Instead, she walks up behind you, snagging the brush out of your hand and begins an aggressive grooming routine. “You should be grateful for what I give you and stop trying my patience. Everything I do for you is always met with silence, do you think the Bennet girls treat their poor mother like this? Or has the devil cursed me with you?”

You know that any attempt to escape her gnarled, rough fingers would be met with even more violence, so you sit still, digging your fingernails into the cushion of your chair. Everything in your body is on edge, your jaw is tight, your stomach still, all your muscles frozen in place to keep from crying out as the onslaught of your scalp continues. Silently resigned, you stare at yourself in the mirror, hating everything you see in the reflective glass.

“You would think that the gods would give me a child who shows a modicum of mercy for her poor mother, but no, all I get is this pathetic excuse of a lady. I know everyone goes behind my back and talks about what a joke you are, and yet you don’t even care enough about the person who put you into this world to even care enough to change.”

Your throat is dry, your eyes are not. Stubbornly, though, you refuse to give her tears, because she’ll only think that crying is a method of trying to guilt her into stopping. So you’re quiet, and you accept the onslaught of verbal terror, trying to let it all wash over you like water running over stones in a river.

“I should have never let you stay that summer with your grandfather, he put in all the wrong ideas in your head. And where did that get him, anyway? In a casket, six feet under.” Eventually, she tires herself out, as she always does. As she places the brushes back on the vanity, she notices the little jar of candies you like to keep around for both yourself and your younger siblings. Her brow furrows, and she takes it, “you don’t need to eat more than you already do.”

You don’t turn to watch her leave, letting the dull slamming of the door speak for itself. Once you’re certain she’s not going to come back for another round, you reach up and start braiding your hair for the night, fingers separating the strands and weaving them together. A strange sort of numbness takes over your body, a tugging emptiness draining your chest and veins of any life. When you lay your head on the pillow, there’s dampness on your cheek that you hadn’t noticed prior.

Luckily for you, in the morning, you are left to be ignored once more. You suppose that you are grateful that your mother only seeks you out when she is angry because that offers more freedom to do as you please when she isn’t. A strange thing to enjoy, but you are still willing to count your blessings nonetheless.

Every day goes by more or less the same. You pretend to be a fancy lady for the minimum amount of time, though thankfully you’re so often ignored you can slip away and head down to the orphanage. You have no official schedule of volunteering, since some days your mother is more persistently present than others, but the nuns are thankful for your appearance more or less.

And you tell yourself that you’re satisfied with everything. It’s a lie, and you know it’s a lie, but the moment you begin to move past that safe little untruth, you think your world will fall apart. So you wait. And you watch. And you’re silent.

The day your mother is uncharacteristically cheerful is the day you feel genuine fear.

She’s humming while going over the cook’s menu ideas. Humming. And she requested to see you… which… is rather unusual. As you walk in, you try to peek over her shoulder, though she shifts the papers ever so slightly out of your sight, offering a warning grunt in your direction. Still unsure of where she might be taking this nonexistent conversation, you take your book and sit on the other side of the table, trying to keep calm.

“There’s going to be a wedding,” she says in a sing-songy voice.

Normally, when your peers are wed off, she takes it like a personal attack, as though each girl is mocking your family by daring to marry before you. Now you’re even more nervous, trying to think over which of your siblings could be of marrying age. Surely they haven’t roped any poor waif into marrying your idiot brother, right?

“Tell me what colors you think would be appropriate for a spring ceremony,” she says, so dreamily it shakes you to your core.

You open your mouth, but your chest is so constricted by fear that it can’t possibly push air through your throat. Instead, you just look down and shrug, trying to steady yourself as you sit. God, you’re so hungry. That breakfast never really fills you up, but you never dare try to scavenge for more food in the daytime.

“I didn’t think you would have the good sense to know, anyways,” your mother dismisses your opinion with the wave of her hand. “A light lavender, maybe? Oh, perhaps daisies would be lovely, but that might seem too ‘country…’ or would that be fashionable?”

You nervously let her ramble, wishing you had it in you to just… get up. Leave. Go someplace where you would be alone and lie down. Your body itches to be surrounded by the greenery in the garden, let yourself become one with the earth. Never worrying about the court, about gentlemen of good breeding, or your mother again. She’s taking tea with biscuits, enough food on that platter to share, but you know better than to try to reach your hand over to grasp one.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and your mother even crueler. You don’t have much more warning than the click of your father’s office door as he and an unfamiliar person exit, and adrenaline laces along your veins. You don’t like how your mother looks at him, you don’t like how he looks at you, and you would very much like to no longer be perceived as a physical being. As your mother stands, you follow suit, just out of shock.

“Mr. Andreas,” your mother croons, a shiver of horror running down your spine.

The stranger nods, then glances over you with a critical kind of look, one that makes your insides squirm so uncomfortably you almost vomit.

“We’ve agreed to the terms,” your father says, then nods in your direction. “The wedding will be set in the spring.”

You’re dizzy, all the blood rushing from your head.

To make things worse, your mother is closer, the pungent scent of flowers invading your lungs with such a pervasive efficiency you can’t even breathe. She’s holding your hand, squeezing your pulse so tightly you know the blood is pooling out between her fingertips, and says, “say hello to your fiance, darling. Don’t be rude.”

It feels like a blink. A quick moment of absolutely nothing, your soul floating up above you like a spectre, and then you’re back. And in bed.

It’s dark outside, and a candle faithfully burns on the table by your bed. Leaning over, you blow it out, knowing that someone not nearly as blessed as you could use the precious light more. Your window rattles, a black shape writhing and clicking against the glass, but it doesn’t break through.

Your head feels empty, a thick, persistent kind of nothingness frying the different pathways to thought. Something important happened, something…. something you should be wary of, but it takes you quite a long time to remember the day’s events until a glimpse of that man’s smarmy face surfaces.

Engaged.

The word makes you gag, but there’s nothing in your stomach to retch. You have no clear idea of how long you’ve been in bed, but as you place your feet on the cold ground, a wave of empty dizziness fizzles through your head. It’s a hungry kind of dizziness, one where your body is at its last leg trying to keep itself upright.

There’s a hot, white pinching in your chest as you rise to a hand, legs and arms shaking like a leaf in a storm. Kitchen, you have to get to the kitchen, your vision blurry and faint. Still, you do your best to keep yourself together as you silently slip out of your room.

The halls are eerily silent, candlelight keeping the night’s terrors at bay. Servants occasionally make rounds to make sure the light doesn’t snuff itself out, but you’ve long timed the carefully coordinated efforts. Arms wrapped around your chest, you slowly make your way back to the kitchens, careful to dodge any straggling staff in the halls.

For the most part, the kitchen is rather modestly sized in comparison to the rest of the house, something the servants and cooks gripe about during the wasteful parties your parents throw to uphold some kind of ridiculous facade of class and wealth. But for you, in your occasional midnight snack, it’s just the right size to feel homely, but also with enough books and crannies for you to duck behind if someone unexpected makes a surprise cameo.

But today, it looks like the last person you wanted to see has been anticipating your visit though.

“Really,” your mother says, arms crossed, the steady glare of rage on her brow, “you faint to embarrass me and then, instead of apologizing, the first thing you think to do is to eat more?”

You swallow thickly, knowing you’re about to get an apocalyptic lecture.

“Look at yourself, girl,” your mother makes a wide, gestural sweep over your body, “your obsession with eating is what made you so difficult to marry in the first place. No one wants to marry a whale! And now that you think you’ve landed a man, you can settle back to your old bad habits?”

You shake your head, clammy and afraid.

“Of course not,” she doesn’t raise her voice, not once, and that somehow makes everything worse, “I told you all you needed was to lose those flaps at your waist, but you can’t even adhere to the diet I’ve set you on.”

If you faint again, she’s going to claim you only did so to guilt her, so you hold your dizzying head together with spit and empty determination. There’s a half-eaten loaf of bread covered on the stove, mocking you with its closeness, laughing at your desperation.

“Everything I do for you, and all you give me in return is your spiteful attitude.” She sighs dramatically and shakes her head. “Go back to bed, girl, I can’t even look at you without feeling disgusting. I don’t know how you can live the way you do.”

You don’t. But you accept the out, shakily wobbling back to your room, hearing your mother call out behind you.

“The engagement party is three days away. You know the rules.”

No sneaking food. Of course you do, she doesn’t allow you to forget it. You go back to your room and lay down on the bed, trying to ignore the painful punches in your starving stomach. Breakfasts in the morning. Breakfast in the morning. Breakfast in the morning.

The party is the epitome of everything you hate.

Bright, gaudy, the food so rich and plentiful despite the nearly starving children barely a mile away. Already you’re mentally calculating how much food you can sneak out to the abbey as soon as the night comes to a close, figuring that you might even be able to make two trips if you truly had to. Sister Anya would protest against you moving through the night, but you’ve never had any issues with the sprites.

Folding your hands together, you try to remain present in the moment, but you quickly find your fingernails scratching invisible streaks down your arms, landing on the palm of your hand... to the mark on your wrist. The doctor speculated that it must have been some kind of chemical burn, mostly because there seemed to be no other explanation about it. A toxic liquid spilt onto your wrist when you were wandering somewhere you weren’t supposed to be, and so now you must bear the speculations and the whispers whenever someone new catches a glimpse of the marking.

It’s an odd kind of thing, all angles and thin lines, coalescing in a shape that seems too particular and sharp to be an accidental blob. When you press your thumb down and close your eyes, though, you can see the exact moment you received it, smell the harsh sanitized basement, but somehow catch a whiff of summer lavender.

Could this be your emergency?

Quickly, you try to fill your mind with a thousand other thoughts, flooding your head to the point that scent is once again a distant memory. Everything that followed that day was filled to the brim with misfortune and misery, and you don’t wish to relive it in the slightest. Not until you absolutely have to.

Your mother is right, the duke is only interested in the land your father offers. To her, though, that’s some kind of blessing. For you, however, seated at the table, it feels like the darkest wickedness. Only once does that man glance in your direction, and you can see his nose briefly wrinkle as he silently dresses you down, as though he feels that fucking you would be some kind of burden that he would skip if allowed.

Everything about him fills you up with a strange sense of terror. It’s the way he holds himself, you think, looking over his posture and general facial expression. Tall. High. He might not be the largest man in the room, but he certainly acts the part, stepping over those he doesn’t necessarily deem to be equal.

To your parents though, that’s just a sign of good breeding. Something that you somehow don’t possess, even though ancestry is theoretically squeaky clean. Through your eyelashes, you observe him, lips glued shut with the waxy lipstick smeared against them. You want to crawl out of your skin, melt into the floorboards, fade into the wall, but you’re stuck in place beneath your mother’s critical glare.

Knowing exactly what she might be thinking, you try to mingle, but everyone has long learned that you’re not the type for conversation. Your search for a discussion amounts to you wandering circles around the ballroom, doing your best to seem interested in what’s going on, but ultimately being ignored.

Eventually, you end up back at the table, filled to the brim with foods so decadent and delicious your mouth waters at the scent. Cautiously, you look over your shoulder as you reach down, to find your mother staring at you from a nearby corner. Your hand freezes, and you retract it, almost ashamed.

The mark on your wrist throbs, gently reminding you of a possibility you can allow yourself to have.

Biting down on your tongue, you merely pour yourself some of the lemon flavored water laid out to the side, hoping to fill your stomach if only for a few moments. Everything is too bright, too much, you’re drowning in the absence of everything you could possibly want.

Even though you know your mother will be at her wit’s end, you snag a champagne flute and decide to go back to your room. The bubbles burn as you drink the flute down faster than should be done, retreating back through the crowded hallway. On your way out, you see a servant carrying another tray of alcohol, and you recklessly switch out your empty cup.

Bitterness swells in your throat. You don’t fucking deserve this, you never have. A part of you wants to burn the mansion down and let the sweeping darkness devour the ashes, but you’ve never had the courage or smarts to pull such a feat off. You spot another platter of champagne and make the trade once more.

Just as you begin sipping the brightly flavored alcohol, you bump into someone sturdy. Hard, dark, tall… your fiancé, unfortunately, you notice. Quickly, you lose all confidence you had been building up and instead curtsy out an apology.

“When your father said you were as quiet as a mouse I didn’t think it was possible,” he laughs, almost good naturally, “I didn’t think a woman could be quiet even if her life depended on it.”

The tops of your ears flare.

“But this is a nice surprise, I think it might make up for your other shortcomings.” He waves his hand in your face, as though you are deaf, not mute, then laughs again. “I suppose we’ll see whether or not you can squeal on the wedding night.”

An almost extinct temper raises its ugly head, you’re furious, but above all else, you’re embarrassed. The alcohol makes your anger boil over more, and to add insult to injury, he doesn’t seem to take the hint to stop talking.

“At least you wouldn’t be able to complain. I hate it when women think they deserve to be heard.” And just like that, he abandons you, wandering off towards a group of people you recognize as your neighbors.

Angrily, you drink more of the champagne, going up the stairs and trying to keep yourself calm. But you’re not calm, you’re furious. At yourself, at your parents, and at that babyfaced ass who has the audacity to mock you in the middle of your joint engagement party. By the time you get to your room, your face is hot and boiling with rage, the empty champagne flute mindlessly left on some random surface, and you bury yourself in the bed. You’ve drunk a fat more tonight than you have in years.

You can’t call a servant to help you out of this satin nightmare, not without your mother being informed, so you’re stuck trying to dislocate both your shoulders in order to reach at the strings lacing the top together. Nothing seems to be working, and you are getting more and more frustrated with your progress, each fucking second wasted on your struggles, making you more upset at the overall predicament.

And then, a thought.

Your drunken mind thinks it’s brilliant. The last thread of your sanity warns you that it’s stupid. But both parties involved agree that it would be very, very funny.

Your thumb finds the mark on your wrist.

Call an eternal being forth just to untie your corset? Absolutely ludicrous. Stupid, even. But definitely hilarious. At least, your drunken mind thinks it’s funny. Slowly, you trace the mark around with your indent finger, your eyesight blurry with drink.

Touch the mark. You place two of your fingers against the pulse of your wrist. Recite my name. Three times, unbroken.

It’s not an incredibly complicated ritual. You’ve recited it in your head many times, staring out of your window, tongue making the motions in your mouth. One favor, you get only but one favor, and every single day you’ve had to deal with another one of your mother’s lectures, your father’s criticism, or some other critical motion from most other people in your life, you’ve thought of him.

But now, while drunk, and after the party, it seems like a fine time to bring him forth from the Otherworld. If only to cause a bit of much-needed chaos. You close your eyes, urging your tongue to move, and you say-

“Étienne. Étienne. Étienne.”

Nothing happens. There is an overwhelming silence, one that causes your body to collapse further into the mattress, your brain slowly shutting itself off in a desperate attempt to sleep off the inordinate amount of alcohol that you’ve consumed. Your tongue and mouth are dry, almost as though they were stuffed with towels and cloth, a hazy exhaustion blocking your vision from comprehension.

And you’re asleep.

You don’t exactly know how long you were asleep for, only that you wake up with a throat as dry as the Dark Desert, lips cracked and bleeding, wrist tingling almost painfully like a thousand little pins are piercing into your flesh, though your face is oddly wet. The candle flickers at your side, likely lit by a servant, illuminating red dampness left on your pillow. A headache pinches between your eyes as you try to process those different elements.

“Here,” a smooth, low voice says, a gloved hand offering up a linen handkerchief.

You accept it, then realize who the hand belongs to. Quickly, you scoot yourself back right up to your headboard, spine pressing almost uncomfortably against the heavy wood.

He’s silent for a moment, eyes so dark and blue you feel like they’re sucking you in as though they’re a whirlpool, and you’re adrift in an ocean clinging to a piece of wood. Then he laughs, shockingly youthfully, hand over his mouth as you yank the handkerchief out from his fingers, pushing it up to your nose to catch the continuous drip of blood. Your mouth tastes like hot copper laid out in the sun, and droplets of redstart swimming in your vision.

“My dear,” he says, cocking his head to the side, curiously, “you called me here.”

“No I di-” fuck, the memory of what must have been only a fe hours prior swimming upward in your mind. “Well, I didn’t mean it.”

“Unfortunately whatever your intentions are, I cannot leave until your wish is fulfilled.” Luckily, he doesn’t seem at all annoyed. Only mildly disinterested in what your problems might be.

“Can’t you just go back?” You ask, voice losing its rasp as you swallow a mouthful of blood.

“That’s not how this works,” he says, almost disappointed in your desperate attempts to make him leave.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You’re shaking,” He observes, settling on the edge of your bed.

It’s as though the spirit of your mother possesses your body, vomiting out a sentence about your chastity as a lady, “there’s a man in my room, at night, with no chaperone present.”

A perfectly manicured eyebrow pops up. “You know I cannot hurt you.”

“It’s not about you, it’s- it’s about my reputation as a lady-”

The other eyebrow follows suit, and he’s looking at you so sceptically it appears he thinks this is some sort of trick. He reaches over and grabs hold of your hand, drawing your wrist close as to double-check for the mark. “I don’t remember you being such a meek little thing.”

“I was ten the last time we met.” You say, trying to keep your voice even.

“And you bit me, if I remember correctly.” And he smiles, as though the memory of a precocious child is somehow a fond one.

This can’t be happening, you can’t be having this conversation with him. A conversation. Talking. You swallow thickly, raking your nails through your scalp, trying to breathe. “I was only trying to defend myself! You- you ki- you killed-”

“He deserved it,” he says, and you are unfortunately inclined to agree.

You can’t tell if the droplet of liquid running down the side of your cheek is blood or sweat. Taking in a shaking, angry breath, and you stare down at your hands, eyes stinging. Ah, tears, okay. This is fine. Everything is fine.

“Ah, darling, I’ve forgotten myself.” He reaches over, and you flinch, so he quickly retracts his hand. “Let’s try again. What do you want from me?”

You think back to all the tiny, ugly little pinpricks of insults you’ve garnered every goddamn day of your life since the incident. You think about your husband to be, you think about your mother, you think about your long-dead grandfather. Everything hurts. Everything is wrong. Slowly, you close your eyes and breathe, trying to keep yourself together, just for another few moments.

“I’m to be married to a nearby heir,” you say.

He cocks his head.

“I don’t want to be.”

#fae/reader #fae #fae x reader #exophilia #monster/reader

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 3 years

Text

I feel guilty for cleaning the pool.

It’s absurd, of course. The pool brings me incredible joy and the only costs involved for cleaning it are time and a ton of pain.

Oh, I should probably remind you that my pool is not like other and so cleaning it is a bit...tricky. Dangerous is another word for it.

See, this is a pool my family made as a child. When I say we made it, I mean with our own hands. My family had a fibergalassing business, no employees but us (and legally only ever my father and grandfather...technically he should have made me an employee, given me a salary, etc, as an adult but Pop never got around to it. But paid or not, we worked, kinda like growing up on a farm where it’s just life.). So when we wanted a pool fiberglassing one ourselves was the thing to do. When my brother and I collapsed the simple above ground with liner version (long story...we actually collapsed it twice because we were curious how we did it the first time! LOL) something sturdier was called for. Because I always wanted water deeper (I used to swim to the bottom of the river for fun, back when I could hold my breath for five minutes) we ended up making it an above ground/bellow ground combo. We literally, kids and all, dug the below ground part with shovels and then fiberglassed directly to the ground.

So here is the pool, a fiberglass construction of five feet above ground and whatever it was below. Actually I don’t think we ever measured how deep we went. Above ground it looks like an ordinary enough rough pool with a flange around the top. It’s sort of cone shaped below, but an uneven cone, sloped steeper here, shallower there, bumpy and lumpy everywhere with some seams to be careful of between areas of woven material.

Cleaning the pool was always a major job every year, rushed to squeeze in to dry days because if the ground gets soaked while the pool is empty it will float up, and if it does and settles even a tiny bit out of place it won’t be supported when it’s refilled and will crack from the weight of water.

The water in the pool each year has sat stagnant with a layer of decayed leaves and pine needles on the bottom. The surface is covered with things that make it slippery and have to be scrubbed off by hand. When the pump hoses clog they have to be cleared by hand in the icky, usually still cold, water. Once the pumps stop handling it it’s scooping out water, gunk, and critters into large pails that have to be shoved ahead of you as you crawl up the slope.

Yes crawl. Not only is walking up the slope impossible, crawling isn’t easy. You have to crawl with care, ready for your hands or knees to slip so you don’t end up smashing your face. The uneveness of our original digging is actually helpful, giving things to not exactly grip but brace against as you work your way up. There have been years it was so slippery I worried about ever getting out again.

What I’m saying is that cleaning the pool is intensive work, racing the hours in a day and forcing yourself to exhaustion.

It was always hard. When it became just two of us it was reaching the limit of what we could do. And now it’s just me, figuring out ways around not having any help and certain physical limitations. (Such as, how do you go around scrubing the flat strip around the edge when you want to save your bad knee for the work at the bottom? Go around the pool in a “touch your toes” position with one hand on the flange for stability and one hand at your feet scrubbing!)

When I finished yesterday the sun had already set. I was shivering from being in cold water so long., and wondering how awful it would be to get hypothermia in May. My bad knee was in agony, and it’s gone from nearly well to being like it was when I first injured it. I had a nice collection of bruises and scrapes. After cleaning up and getting supper I found my body stiffened up so I could barely walk. Today I’ve been so sore I told myself to go easy for once (I didn’t, but that’s just me being “don’t be lazy”). Everything ached.

Rationally I know I shouldn’t feel guilty.

I live in squalor and poverty, everything dilapidated and decaying faster than I could ever fix even if I had money or help. I’m isolated and increasingly feeling despair. The things that make my life endurable have been being whittled away.

And yet the pool still stands. Despite the repairs over the years, including one I just did, it’s little changed from the days when the pool would be full of family and friends.

The pool is happiness and stability in a life that feels increasingly short on both. There is nothing wrong in holding onto that.

And yet I feel guilty.

All that hard work for something fun, when I’m surrounded by hundreds if things that NEED doing? I still haven’t fixed the shower pipe or the floors, so when I got done with the pool I was still cleaning up by stepping off a plank over a hole in the floor into the shower and then showering out of a bucket with a battery powered camping gizmo. How stupid is it to waste time on a pool when you are living like that?? Why can’t you just finish taking care of important things without wasting so much energy on something so frivolous.?

Is it absurd to hold onto something you love even as your world crumbles around you? I dunno, but absurd or not it’s very human I think. The things I need to to are about surviving, but something I want to do is about living. I’ve had a hard time lately wanting to do anything, but I still want the pool. It kind of proves I’m still me and still alive.

One day I won’t be able to clean the pool anymore. One person alone has to admit that bodies aren’t forever, and no one will be there to do things for us. Will I be able to clean the pool at 60? I hope so. Folks in my family tend to be physically tough. But 80? Probably not. And for all I know it could be sooner since no one can count on good health. One summer I’ll look at the pool and realize that no matter how much I long to swim I just don’t feel up to the ordeal that is pool cleaning.

We get only one life and we might as well enjoy what we can while we can. So I shouldn’t feel guilty....and yet I do.

#my day #pool #pools #pool cleaning

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gosickoonmymode · 4 years

Text

"I don't want to go home tonight"

18+ Bloodhound x reader!!!

Summary: naughty fantasies in the shower and maybe something else too teehee

Added stuff: Reader and Bloodhound are gender neutral. Mention of BH having some kind of something, but it’s up to you to decide what that is (strap-on or organic).

Hot and heavy under the cut

It's late, you're exhausted from a long day of participating in the games, Bloodhound guides you through the moonlit forest trail. It’s lit enough to walk without too much concern, but still, you trip and stumble over a rock or root. Bloodhound catches you so you don't fall or run into something else, "Careful," they say softly, "stay close." They hold on to your arm as they continue forward, your heart is racing at their touch.

After a few more minutes of walking you see their cottage almost glowing beneath the moon. The floor has smoothed out, you tap their hand, "I got it, thank you," you reassure them, smiling. They let go and you both continue to the steps of the porch. You honestly wish they'd hold you longer but you don't want to be caught blushing once you're in the light of their home.

Bloodhound unlocks the door, opens it, and turns around to go back down the steps of their creaky porch, "excuse me a moment," they say as they pass you. You watch them wave their hand in the air, signaling Artur to them. The beautiful raven flies down and lands on their arm. Hound gives him a couple scritches and heads back toward the steps, "go on in," they say, gesturing to the open door.

You awkwardly walk inside after them, close the door behind you, and stand by it as Hound places Artur on a perch near one of the windows. It isn't as strange to be in their cottage, as you've been there a couple times before (albeit never for long and certainly never overnight), but it is still a little awkward. They take off their mask and gloves and light the lanterns and candles before showing you where you'll be sleeping. It's a simple room filled with potted herbs, the walls are a soft brown and the carpet is plush and some kind of darker earthy color. There's a bed with fluffy dark brownish-orange blankets neatly folded on top, and a small closet able to fit your shoes and bag. This room isn’t like the rest of their home, it isn’t adorned with hunting trophies, furs, weapons, or sigils (despite the one on the door). There’s a carpet instead of wood flooring, and the room seems almost untouched.

"Would you like to use the shower?" Bloodhound asks. They unfold the blankets to set them on the bed.

You didn't even notice the feeling of dirt and dust all over you until Hound asked that question, "yes please, that'd be awesome." You grab your pajamas and meet them in the hallway where they hand you a dark green towel. You follow them down the dim candle lit hall and to the left. They open up a clunky wooden door, inside is basic bathroom stuff like a sink and toilet, it’s very nature/rustic themed. There's another door with a curtain over it, they open it to reveal an outdoor shower. You get excited as they explain how it works, you've always wanted to try an outdoor shower like this one.

After they show you the ropes and reassure you that no bugs or animals will invade your space they take their leave. You get undressed and test the water, it's perfect. You can hear the crickets chirping and tiny critters all around you, see the tall trees towering over the fence, stars shining through the thick canopy. The full moon and torch on the wall bring relaxing lighting, it’s perfect for unwinding. You reflect on when you met Bloodhound, how you never really thought they'd want to be close to you, how it took over a year for them to even begin opening up to you. You’re still shocked that they offered for you to stay the night, typically Elliot is the one who wants to party, or Ajay offers her home so you two can stay up chatting. But now you're here, staying the night at Bloodhound’s cottage, using their shower...

...using...their shower? It hits you like a ton of bricks, you're actually in Bloodhound's shower. Their beautifully crafted, peaceful, comfortable shower. Where they get clean. Where they stand naked. Your mind wanders, you think about what they might look like beneath their clothes, you’ve only ever seen their face and hands. You wonder if they ever give in to any urges they get much like the ones you have now. You wash your hair and body, trying to focus on something else, you don't want to use up too much water. Still, your hand drifts lower and lower until it finds itself at your crotch.

Your entire body tingles at your own touch, you can't believe you're actually doing this in Bloodhound's shower. You think about them coming through the door, pinning you against the wall, sticking their tongue into your mouth. You jolt with pleasure, rubbing the most sensitive parts of yourself, imagining their rugged hand touching you in place of yours. You use your other hand to put your fingers inside, silently pleading for Hound to walk in and find you like this. Your fantasies are going wild, you can hardly contain your voice.

You're so deep in your head you can practically feel Bloodhound finger fucking you. You want nothing more than to kiss them, be touched by them, completely belong to them. You're trembling hard, "mmph...H..Hound..." you moan under your breath. You picture them pushing you to the ground, propping your ass up, and fucking you hard, rough, and raw. You hear them grunt and growl with each intense thrust, you feel them grab your neck from behind and squeeze, you gasp at them slapping and gripping your ass. You want it, you want it bad, it's taking all of your strength to hold in your cries. You almost don’t want to stop but your hands move faster, you curl forward, "ffck, I'm cumming... Hound..I’m cu....." You grit your teeth to suppress your voice as you climax, your body jolting hard. You lean back against the cold stone wall while you catch your breath. It's a bit embarrassing to be fantasizing about your dear friend like that, at their house, in their bathroom, but what's done is done. You shove your face into the water to compose yourself before shutting it off.

You grab the towel and wrap it around yourself as you walk back inside. You let out a deep sigh and dry yourself off. Once you’re in your pajamas you walk through the hallway to find a casually dressed Bloodhound sitting at their living room table. They’re wearing an off-white loose fitting shirt, light brown sweats, and a wrist brace. Their thick, wavy dark brown hair is hanging just above their shoulders. Their cognac eyes pull you in, how can someone be so beautiful? “Did you have fun?” they ask in an almost teasing tone, not shifting their focus from whatever they’re looking at.

“huh?” you reply, unsure how to answer.

Hound looks up at you with a smirk, “You were not as quiet as you may think.”

You feel your heart skip a beat before pounding against your chest. Bloodhound stands up and walks toward you, you can’t even slightly hear their bare feet stepping on the ground. You’re unsure where to look or what to do so you just stand there watching them get closer, your heart about to jump out of your chest. They stop right in front of you, one more step and you’ll collide. You’re bright red, panicking, any time they’re this close you can hardly breathe. You look down slightly and they place their fingers on your chin, “Look at me,” they say in a low yet firm voice as they guide you to face them. After a brief moment of eye contact they move in and kiss you gently. You can feel your body melting, you’ve wanted this for so long. They place their hand on your lower back and pull you in to kiss you deeper, your body nearly goes limp. They pull back and rest their forehead to yours, the two of you stand in silence for a moment, they move their hand from your chin and graze your arm with their fingertips making your spine shiver.

Their hand runs from your arm down your stomach to your crotch. You bite your lip as they tease you. You grip the back of their shirt and pull them toward you but they don’t budge, they just let out a soft laugh, “You’re awfully eager for someone who just pleasured them self.” You blush even more, they rub you a little harder causing you to gasp and grip their shirt tighter. They lean in to speak in your ear, “Do you want more?”

You nod and shyly say, “y-yes...”

Bloodhound pulls you into them, rubbing your crotch harder and faster. You moan and press your face against them, their hand feels so good, your mind is drowning in the moment. It’s a literal dream come true, having them this way. But suddenly they stop, let you go, and take a step back. You look at them with desperate eyes, they look back at you, pleased with your expression. “Are you willing to do anything I ask of you?” they ask, seemingly amused.

You know that anything means literally anything, but you trust them, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Are you tired?” They walk over to a wall and grab something but you can’t see what, “Do you wish to take it easy tonight?”

“No I’m not tired, not anymore anyway,” you anxiously reply.

They turn away from the wall and walk toward you, you see a rope in their hand, “You will tell me if it is too much?” they stop in front of you like before, stroking your cheek with their free hand.

“I’ll say it’s..cold?...too cold.....since it’s..warm tonight...” you can hardly think, you’ve never had the chance to use a safe word before, hopefully what your clouded mind came up with will suffice.

They grip the back of your hair and kiss you hard, then look you deep in the eyes and sharply whisper, “Run bráð mitt.” You stare at their stern expression for a second before frantically running for the door. You fling it open and jump off the top step of the porch, your bare feet hitting the cool dirt, and dart off into the trees. Bloodhound stands in the doorway looking out into the dark, a sly smile crosses their face.

The hunt begins.

#i've never posted something like this before please be nice #nsft #nsft text #fanfiction #bloodhound x reader #bloodhound apex #apex bloodhound #apex legends

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artnerd1123 · 3 years

Text

A Familiar World

Pen Pals (pt 1) ——————————————

Just a bit of book exchange and small talk between a couple sorcerers.

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————

whattup belle n @vaaloirr are back at it again with another joint chapter, ft alex n journ!!! vaal wrote the letters by alex, and i wrote the ones by journ! these were rlly fun to write, so y’all will prolly see more in the future :>

hope y’all enjoy!!!

Dear Journal

I hope you’re having a good week, over there, hope life’s treating you well. I’m here with my book recommendation, as usual. I hope you like this one. It’s an intriguing little piece called “Forgotten Shoals”, a story about a small group of people, mostly mercenaries I think, getting shipwrecked and separated on a very strange island. I was a little lost? About halfway through? The story’s kind of too vague for its own good at certain points, but overall it was pretty good. It’s in a pretty old time period, when there were still kings and stuff, so that’s pretty interesting, how they handle that. It’s only two books, but they’re long ones. They make for fun animated book nights, especially if you’re watching in a dark room. It really helps the atmosphere, so there’s that to keep in mind.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

Thanks so much for the rec! It came at a great time, I’d just finished with the last series. I’ll be sure to let you know what I think of this one. I’ll work them into my schedule sometime. Probably at midnight. That’s the best time to read, haha. Maybe we’ll both get confused, and we can compare notes. Life’s ok over here. I finally decided to get better acquainted with my roommate. My book rec for you comes from him, actually. It’s a book of really old questor legends- maybe you’ve read it before? Sorry if you have! He called it “Legenday legacies.” There’s a whole series of them. They don’t really go in any order, but the oldest are marked first. I’ve only read a couple, but they’re really cool. It’s best to have them animated, too. My roommate said they were old oral stories that someone finally decided to write down, so the animation has some really neat extra details. This letter got a little long, haha. Hope you’re doing ok over in your town!

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, midnight’s the best time for a spooky book, haha. And thank you for the rec! I actually had the first book when I was a kid, but I forgot it when I left home. I would love to read it again, and to read the other books too… I’ll definitely try to snag them the next time I’m over there. I always meant to go back to them, so thanks for the reminder. And I’m glad you’re getting along with your roommate, it wouldn’t be very fun if you weren’t, haha. I couldn’t really picture myself with a roommate, me and Lucy is just fine. And I’m doing fine, though things are a little hectic over here right now. Someone says they saw a monster nearby recently, which… I’m pretty certain was just a random wolf they got spooked by? It was late. But you know. Rumors are a hard snowball to stop once they get rolling. Hopefully it’ll all get sorted out. Anyway, I’m running out of room on the paper, so I gotta call it here, haha. Have a good one.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

Oh, nice! Hopefully the next ones are a good read. And I get leaving books at home on accident. I had to leave a bunch of mine when I left home, too. I got the important stuff! But you can’t quite replace a lifetime of books overnight, haha. At least we have libraries and book merchants, right? Roommate life isn’t for everyone. I’m glad you and Lucy are getting along well at your place. Though the rumors sound rough. It’s hard when a whole town is going off about something. Sorry you’re dealing with those. Hopefully they’ll quit when they catch whatever the critter is, haha. Could make for a town legend, right? I’ve heard plenty of those. They’re certainly something. Before I run out of paper, I actually have one somewhat unrelated question. Does Lucy ever run around the apartment at 3am for no reason? My roommate’s familiar is a cat, and he does that. I’m not sure if it’s a familiar thing or a cat thing. We didn’t have any cats in the house growing up. Hope this letter finds you well.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, a lifetime of books is not the easiest thing to replace, haha. And the rumors aren’t really rough, so much as annoying. It’s a merchant town, so once monster rumors start, everybody’s gotta hold up while some people go out and find whatever it was. They’re very on edge when the topic of monsters is brought up. But hey, what can you do. Hopefully it’ll be a boring town legend at the end of the day, haha. And as far as the 3am thing, yes. All the damn time, every night. Without fail. My mom had a few cats when I was growing up, and I can confirm that it’s a cat thing. They just do that. I don’t know why, you can have the laziest cat in the world and they’ll still sprint around at full speed at 3am. It’s actually kind of hilarious. Also, if we’re gonna be trading questions, I actually had one… Your roommate is a questor, right? I was wondering if you could maybe ask for a few questor tips from him for me, if that's alright. Have a good one.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

I mean, a legend’s a legend, right? But I do hope whatever it is doesn’t bother the townsfolk much. We used to have some problems with woodsy critters back at home. I don’t know if they’re still having issues now, but sometimes wolves can get pretty bold, haha. And that’s good to know. It is pretty funny to just hear my roommate’s familiar sprinting around outside my door at Revaew awful hours of the night. I just have to make sure he doesn’t wiggle his way into my room. He’ll go curl up on my bed to claim it and not move until 6am. Usually that’s not a problem because I stay up late, but it means I crash later during the day. Not so great when I'm in the middle of magic training, haha. I went and asked my roommate about questor tips for you. I didn’t know questors were actually a separate class of sorcerer, so that made for an interesting conversation! He told me that you should keep an eye on the questing board- you have one in town, right?- and to keep some sort of compass/map on you among your supplies. Make sure to pack a snack and water if you don’t already. If it’s a fetch quest, make sure to find the quest giver beforehand to check for any special conditions. He said a bunch of other stuff, too, but half of it sounded like he was trying to be a mother hen. The guy’s a bit of a softie. I could send you my notes with my next letter if you’d like to see all of them.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, yeah… I still think it’s just a wolf. Or maybe a bear. Who knows. Honestly, I would be more shocked if people weren’t bothered by this, merchants are just such uppity people. At least the ones around here. You definitely don’t wanna crash during magic training, yeah. I remember when I was training with my uncle, when I used to live with him, I was not good at keeping myself in check at all. Most of the time not spent practicing was spent napping because I would use all my energy trying to get this one spell, and then just pass out. I was young and excited, to be fair. He got me out of that habit. And maybe you should let the little familiar claim your bed sometime, there’s probably room for both of you, haha. Y’know, the more you talk about him, the more I think he and Lucy would get along great. You didn’t know questors were another class of sorcerers? I mean, I guess the distinction isn’t exactly obvious, now that I think about it. And we do actually have a questing board! Though it’s a little bare lately. Mostly just odd jobs, not much else. Any nearby dungeons have apparently decided to be quite shy, haha. Be sure to tell your roommate that the advice is appreciated, he sounds like a nice guy. And I would love to see your notes! If you’re good with it, that is.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

Haha, maybe I will. It’s sort of weird sleeping in a room by myself right now. I have had a lot of siblings. Maybe the company will do me some good. And maybe we can have them meet up the next time you’re in town. I’m sure my roommate would let me take his familiar out. His name is Roo. He’s a shy little guy, but the library is quiet enough that he’d do ok. Just have to find him a fairy tale book and he’s all set, haha. As for magic training, that sounds so cool! Having your uncle train you sounds so exciting. My old mentor sort of took me under her wing because I was trespassing on her woods. She’s a strict teacher, but I’m really grateful to her. She taught me a lot, and gave me an amplifier a while ago. We still exchange letters and I still try my best to stick to what she told me. Learning magic is hard work, but I’m willing to reach for it. Guy’s got a dream, you know? And, for the record, I didn’t grow up in a very magical place. I think my magic mentor was the only sorceress in the entire area of my hometown, haha. Totally different story in this town. There’s lots of sorcerers- my roommate included. He’s pretty cool. Buys me coffee and gives me training tips sometimes. Anyways, all this to say I’ve attached a copy of the notes. Sorry if the ink is a little faded. I wanted to try out a duplication spell I’ve been practicing, and I don’t know if it took all the way. Simple spells can be hard for me, but I’m working on it, haha. Hope you and Lucy are doing well.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, I bet the change from “a lot of siblings” to “one roommate and his familiar” is a bit jarring. I wouldn’t really know? I was an only child. To be honest, I always wondered what having siblings was like, maybe you could tell me sometime? If that’s good with you? Maybe when we introduce Roo and Lucy to each other. Roo is such a cute name by the way, I hope the little guy knows that, haha. As far as my uncle goes, he was a very good teacher! He knew a whole lot of spells, and still tried to learn even more. He was a show sorcerer, so he knew so much neat stuff… I kinda miss him, but you know. He’s got his career, and I wanted to be a questor. At least it helped me get used to travelling a lot, haha. Your teacher sounds super cool too, like? Meeting a sorcerer in the middle of the woods and getting taken under their wing? That’s some legend stuff, man. Awesome. My town wasn’t very magical either, but it wasn’t super unmagical? There were sorcerers here and there. Not enough to really call the town magical, though. It wasn’t a hotspot, I guess is what I’m trying to say. I heard it’s become even less so since I left, but I digress. Oh! And the notes were really great by the way! Thank you so much! And don’t worry about the faded ink, I’ve read more illegible, haha. I think you did a fine job. You’ll get better with practice! I believe in you! And we’re doing fine, though Lucy is getting a bit claustrophobic. I hope you guys are doing well too.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

I apologize in advance if my handwriting gets messy. I’ve rewritten this letter at least three times now. My hand just tends to make absolute chicken scratch if I get too excited. That being said, you mentioned your uncle being a show sorcerer? How long has he been performing? How did he start? What category is he? Are all his shows the same or does he switch it up every time? What does he travel in? Sorry for all the questions, I’ll stop myself there. Show sorcerers are sort of an interest of mine. An aspiration, if you will, haha. Hearing that you worked with one sent my mind into overdrive. That’s so cool! Maybe we could practice spells together sometime. And a legend? Maybe. My mentor tells a lot of those. Sometimes I swear she’s telling an actual story that happened to her. She never confirms, though. I don’t know how much of legend material I am yet. I have to work on my magic some more. One day, though. It’ll happen. Especially if the notes weren’t as bad as I thought, haha. It’s progress! Also, we’ve got solidarity on non magic towns, haha. Glad we’ve both got somewhere that has more pizazz. Just a couple magic guys trying to make their way in the world, ammirite? Anyways, sorry about Lucy. Maybe taking her on a walk would help? We’re doing ok over here. My roommate has been painting scenes from the books we’ve animated. It’s pretty cool. And Roo seemed to like the idea of meeting Lucy! He was a tad nervous, but that’s the norm for him. I think he’d like having another cat friend. Maybe we can get together soon? I might have some sibling stories. Depends how much I remember that day, haha.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Your handwriting’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve read worse. As for all your questions, uh… since he was a teenager, I never asked, I can’t remember the categories but he does a lot of stuff with legends, dragons, and dragon legends, they have the same themes, but he has a bunch of different shows, if that makes sense, and he travels in a little caravan with his familiar and a couple of his friends. I get being excited, it’s all good. Maybe we could have a Q&A the next time we see each other, haha. And I’m sure uncle Leo would love to meet and practice magic with you, but he’s really busy nowadays, so you might have to hold that thought for a bit. He’d have to find a gap in his schedule. You really need to introduce me to your mentor eventually, she sounds awesome. And I’m sure you’ll get a legend or two for yourself one day. I mean, nobody was born the star of one, am I right? And I wouldn’t really say my current town has more “pizazz”, but it’s definitely more tolerable than my old town, I guess. Some people were very opinionated there. Especi Yeah I took her on a quick walk through town before writing this letter, actually, and she’s feeling a lot better! Sometimes she just needs a little bit of fresh air like everybody else. I bet your roommate's paintings look great, I can’t paint to save my life, haha. Lucy’s a little nervous too about the meeting too, so I guess the feeling’s mutual. Hopefully we can all get together soon!

Sincerely, Alex

#afw chapter #afw #a familiar world #my story #arty writes #friend writing #it both!#journal sherman drapht #afw ocs #alex #lucy #hehe hoho fun times >:3 #these two bring me joy...#they r... friends :>#bonding over books n cats SLKJSFL #love that for them :D

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 29: The Dueling Club

Peter found it a genuine relief, once his head stopped ringing, to find themselves not in Hogwarts for now. There was just too much going on in their school that was giving him the creeps, too much trouble Harry kept getting into that they somehow managed to follow.

His confusion still rose of where exactly they were. There were glass cases lined all along the walls and a metal bar protruding from the wall in front of all that as if it were any kind of deterrent, and it took a few moments before he could get to his feet and peak into the nearest one, prepared to dart away the second another dangerous thing lunged out. Instead he found a strange, very tiny little creature with rough brown skin and buggering blue eyes. There were three prongs coming out the back of its head, but four legs that seemed webbed in appearance and a flat tail. His eyes swept down further and he saw a plaque reading Axolotl- Ambystoma mexicanum, with some description of the beast. Looking more properly now along the way again he saw the same type of thing in front of every display. They were in a reptile house.

He'd been to the zoo a few times in his youth, but his mum being a seamstress meant they hadn't much money and it had been a treat. As far as they knew Harry had only been the one time, but that didn't explain why they were here now. Up until this point they'd been following Harry along, this seemed rather out of the way.

"Hey, I think I found the boa Harry was talking to," Frank said as he eyed a great mound of green coils snoozing away.

"I don't think so," Alice corrected. "I distinctly recall that one being brown, and a Brazilian boa. The Emerald's are from Brazil, but not the right species."

"Maybe they don't have it on display anymore," Lily muttered, thinking that whether it had escaped captivity or been caught, someone likely wouldn't want it on sight anymore.*

"Oi, I found a door that opened!" Sirius whooped in triumph, keeping the book loosely under his arm as he sucked in the fresh air. "How about we put this nasty business on hold lads and get some space, I've never been to a zoo before!"

"That was just sad," Remus told him at once, and Peter was more than happy to follow them out of this place. Too many things in here would find him a snack, in both bodies he could assume.

"I want to see the Dudley gorilla," James agreed as he darted past, coming almost at once to a fork in the road. He didn't even hesitate, high on pure energy he darted right and took off at full speed still shouting about all the animals he wanted to see.

"I vote Wormtail fetches him," Remus smirked.

"You literally just used a Padfoot joke on me, I can't decide if I'm offended or flattered," Peter rolled his eyes as he strolled past the two, who were clearly enjoying the clear skies and shady foliage more.

"Go with flattered and do what he says," Sirius suggested.

Peter was already doing so, scoffing about the two turning into layabouts, but turning into a jog to keep James in sight as he took a left. He finally caught up to him as he was bouncing in place and reading the plaque of a reindeer. "Look, look it Wormie! My distant cousins!"

"Prongs, you know just because you can turn into one doesn't mean-"

"Shhh! Don't spoil my fun, think I can get in there with them? Bet I can be king of the herd!"

"James, I really wouldn't recommend-"

He was being ignored, he'd already slipped under the wooden boards and was standing in the space in between, fingers pressed into the mesh gate, eyeing the top as if he could gauge how far the jump was. "Wonder why they only have males in there," he said absently as he tried to fit a trainer into the metal.

"This is one of the few species of deer where females can grow prongs to, I'm sure they're in there," Peter said in resignation as he managed to get both feet off the ground, but stayed there for a moment rather than lifting himself higher.

James hesitated, trying to stretch his arm up higher to get more purchase without toppling over, but couldn't get his feet in well enough to manage such a thing. "Where's Sirius?" He demanded as he wobbled dangerously, looking for more backup than Peter's silent unsupport.

"He and Moony were taking their sweet time while you ran off."

"Been noticing that a lot lately," James groused as he let himself loose and hit the ground, deciding to focus on this. Of course he could have made the climb if he wanted to...it just would have been easier if he'd had his broom.

"Yeah," Peter agreed, keeping the bitterness entirely out of his voice as James acknowledged this as well.

"Probably just catching each other up on every mundane detail Pads missed the past month," James sighed, even as he did gaze back curiously.

"Wasn't much to miss," Peter reminded.

James ignored this, no need to go back and reminisce how quiet their life had somehow gotten with one of their numbers not on speaking terms, so grabbed hold of Peter and began towing him further on. "Oh well, they'll catch up. I saw an exhibit for meerkats isn't far off, let's go see your cousins Pete!"

"I think this place got the sign for this one wrong," Frank told Alice as he inspected the odd creature before him. "That's clearly some kind of zebra."

"Says here an Okapi is a subspecies of giraffes and zebras," Alice agreed. Shrugging at how odd Muggels were for their many sciences, especially in naming creatures. The two moved on, stopping with increasing frequency and more than happy to have Lily around whenever they ran across something odd, like a cart full of bobble-heads.

She seemed to be in a radiant mood, having tied her hair up and was all but skipping ahead of them and only rounded back when they called out a question to her. When curiosity had gotten the better of her and Alice had finally asked why, she'd just smiled and admitted, "the peace and quiet is nice."

It was true they hadn't heard a word of the book yet, which was rather odd, and they wondered if distance had finally pulled the magic too far and they didn't even know if the Marauders were continuing the story somewhere else. Only Frank seemed disappointed in this prospect, the mystery of that monster at Hogwarts still on his mind, they could be missing clues. He was having far too much fun though to really offer the complaint, and didn't dare suggest actually hunting the lot down, bringing the girls moods with this.

"Let's go find the birdhouse," Lily suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement. They spotted a huge dome like structure in the distance which must have been what caught her eye and easily kept pace with her as she kept up a happy babble. Alice suddenly realized this was really the most she'd heard her talk since this began. "I love birds, did you know their bones are hollow, but still incredibly strong. You can't just snap them in half like a chicken bone."

"Do you own an owl?" Frank asked kindly, but to his surprise the smile dropped from her face.

"No, ah, my parents won't allow it." Her answer sounded very diplomatic, but Frank still regretted asking, having brought her mood back so low.

"My sister, really," she tacked on defensively, her tone edging harder every word now. "She, err, I've asked, but she hates animals, and my parents, err, I mean I have to respect her wishes too."

"Must be hard having siblings," Alice offered.

"Yeah," she agreed, her hand trailing up to catch strands of her hair now and playing with it, walking along at a much calmer pace so to stay even with them now. "She, ah, doesn't like that I can do magic but she can't. It's, been hard to talk to her lately. Last time we really did was our last trip to the zoo, first summer back from Hogwarts. It's like she forgot where I'd been gone all year, and we just talked and had fun all day. Even though she took no interest in the animals, we played games watching Muggles pass by and mum and dad let us even go off ahead of them a bit to show they trusted us being bigger. Then we went to the birdhouse, and I saw the most beautiful owl in there! I started telling her about all the ones at school, and -" She stopped there, both in speech and walking, staying frozen on the spot in front of a cart advertising plushies for all sorts of critters to see in this zoo.

Then she blinked as if coming back to reality and gave them a very guilty look. "Sorry, looks like I'm always putting my foot in my mouth no matter the company. I'll just let you two-"

"Don't be silly," Alice said at once, reaching out and taking her hand with the best smile she could offer. "As if we're going to let you off on your own after spilling your guts like that. Your sister's a twat for not wanting to hear about your life, but we'd love to."

Frank gave an encouraging smile as well, thinking the poor girl needed some fun in her life. Between such a home life and someone like Snape for a friend, she probably didn't get much. "We don't have to go to the bird house, how about we find the food court?"

"No, I want to," she insisted, her eyes lighting with some spark again. "I really did love the place, it's so exotic and probably as close as I'll ever get to seeing the rain forest. Err, it's also on the way to the restaurants," she offered herself.

"Sounds perfect," Alice agreed, now the one dragging both of them along.

Remus and Sirius were unintentionally taking turns watching each other. It was a miracle they'd managed to keep their school bags on them all this time, but when Sirius realized he had, he'd slipped the book into it without a second glance yet, and that had been almost an hour ago now. Finally he could just enjoy some time out, and some alone time with Remus.

The two had already stopped and had a good snog once already, before the sound of something had drawn their startled attention. It didn't sound particularly threatening, and in fact it turned out to be a lion attempting to mimic a roar, though it more sounded like a giant cat hacking up a hairball. Remus had dragged Sirius over and began mocking the beast, and the proud cat actually responded in kind. Sirius nearly fell to the ground laughing as the two kept 'roaring' at each other for a good few minutes.

Then the two had taken off to actually find their mates, looking first in the gorilla house where they'd expected to find them. They did indeed spot the apes, but in the very back hiding in the shaded trees and various equipment they had available to play in. Then they'd been sidetracked at where the warthogs were rummaging about, Sirius being genuinely amazed how tough they looked compared to the bacon he was craving.

Remus had to drag Sirius away from the anteater, while Padfoot still insisted he wanted a closer look at such an odd creature and surely it wouldn't run if he turned into a friendlier dog. They had another good pass at each other before they realized they had an audience in front of the lemurs, and still red faced and fixing their clothes from that, they finally stumbled across their friends gazing at some naked mole-rats.

"There you two are, we been looking all over!" James called in excitement.

"What's with you two, you look all hot and bothered," Peter agreed. There was an odd look in his eye as he saw the pair and then looked back at James, but both ignored him and the question.

"Probably walked right past each other in a place this size," Sirius said off hand. "Let's go find that place Harry mentioned, where we can get some ice cream around here."

They all stopped and had some fun in front of the tigers, each bidding how far they could get in before the big cat realized they were there. Peter insisted he'd make it the farthest, without becoming a meal. Then they came across a bear enclosure, two huge beasts tossing each other about inside. It seemed in good fun, for the animals.

"Come on, we run around with a werewolf once a month, I'll bet I can take them!" James insisted, now more than willing to levitate himself into the enclosure and give it a go.

"Prongs, you are literally something they'd have a joy eating," Peter tried to protest.

"Not if he has backup!" Sirius insisted, bouncing on his heels in preparation.

"You two idiots are going to be murdered and then we're going to be zapped around with corpses," Remus pleasantly informed them. "Please, let's go have some lunch, and then we can come back," he quickly pacified.

They were still happily bickering about it when they found a good sized restaurant and went into the cool air with gratitude, raiding the kitchens for the sweet treats and each making their own scoop before Sirius finally took a grateful seat at a table and digging into the bag for the book.

"So you weren't reading that this whole time?" Peter asked with interest.

"Nah," Remus shrugged, "was just having some jollies about the place like you two."

"I'd been wondering if we'd just get yanked out of here before we'd find you two," James rolled his eyes.

Sirius ignored him too as he finally got started reading the chapter title.

"Glory Black, we could hear you outside, can you yell that any louder," Smith said as she poked her head inside, her face flushed from heat as well but looking almost grateful to have found them.

"You just getting started on that?" Longbottom asked as he came inside as well along with Evans, all three clutching stuffed parrots.

"Yep, glad you could join us," James smiled and very obviously moved himself over to make room for them, her, nearly pushing Peter out of his seat in the process.

Peter scowled and shoved him back just as hard, James nearly face planting his ice cream.

Ignoring the two making snipping comments at each other now, the three sat around comfortably, though not nearly as far away as they could. James still beamed at the proximity, wishing they could spend the rest of this reading adventure here, it was clearly putting Evans in a good mood, she was even smiling as Sirius started off and it didn't even dim that much as the Muggleborns in the school were described during this monster fear.

Regulus spent the entire time staring at penguins. They were funny little things, he'd instantly decided, and had been captivated at once by the flightless birds zooming through the water at such speeds. For a moment he'd even tried to see if he could run faster and been amazed the bird swam the length of it's glass before he could do any such thing. Smiling as the one he'd locked eyes on darted away, he tried to circle around and follow it, finding a nice large tree he could sit under and observe the whole area.

He was sure if a Muggle were to come along he'd be terribly scolded, he'd had to clamber over a large ridge right into the enclosure and several of the birds came up to him within reach, clicking their beaks and eyeing him for food. When he offered nothing they lost interest and began preening each other, the splash of water as the bodies leaped free of their miniature ocean the only noise he heard until Sirius finally began reading the next part of the chapter.

His voice had been so clear Regulus had startled, scattering all the webbed critters that had gone near him back into the water, but when he looked around, there was still no one in sight. Sighing and inching himself further a bit more so that his feet nearly touched the clear surface, he relaxed again and let himself enjoy the tale from a distance for once. He couldn't hear the commentary going along, to which he was grateful for. He could almost imagine it all anyways, his idiot of a brother and his friends laughing about the Potter kid causing trouble in Snape's class, Smith and Longbottom being happy about everything and chatting about the good merits of a dueling club. By the time the chapter even got to the part of Harry attending it Regulus was so relaxed he'd even slipped his shoes off and dipped his feet in the water, surprised by how pleasantly warm it was.

Hearing of Harry actively speaking Parseltongue was of great interest to him, his fascination with Potters child growing all the more as he took control of the situation and spoke the language he'd only heard rumor the Dark Lord could as well. Knowing the child could and actively hearing him do it twice now was enthralling, what his family would give if he could do such a thing as well! Potter and his friends treated it like some bad thing, and Regulus just had to scoff, those kids didn't know how good their life could be if they'd just be a bit smarter, instead all three reminded him of his idiotic brother.

The idea of something happening to a ghost did get his attention, a chill sweeping through him that had nothing to do with the warm sun still beating down. He couldn't blame that Ernie fellow for thinking Harry had done it given the circumstances, but a pureblood should be smarter than that! He should realize you should always look at more options available than just blaming the obvious source, shouldn't he? He was really starting to question that, considering that Hermione friend of Potter's obviously knew better but so many purebloods didn't. Then he swallowed and looked around again, waiting for his mother or one of his friends from school to spot him having such traitorous thoughts-

He cursed and jumped straight out of the enclosure in surprise, not because Potter was going to see the headmaster, but a penguin had taken a nip at his foot, apparently under the delusion it was a snack rather than toes. He drew his wand and took aim at the pestilent bird, but lowered it at the last second as he conceded he had been asking for such a thing to be happening. Then he was pulled away altogether.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #Marauders #CoS #Wolfstar #reading the books #zoo #Regulus Black #Regulus Black and Penguins #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Peter Pettigrew #James Potter #Lily Evans #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith

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therewasatale · 3 years

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Kindred spirits

On Ao3.

There are countless interdimensional service and food establishments across the multiverse. In some cases, the building or the interior itself is travelling from world to world, sometimes buying items in one dimension and selling them in the next one. In other cases, only the opening door appears in different or even multiple worlds, and the interior is situated in some kind of pocket space. Probably because the rent is cheaper that way.

One of these latter places was the "Beasts Den", a small smoky pub which served as a refuge for everyone who was obsessed with exotic or magical animals. It was a strange niche for an establishment but considering the vastness of the universe, it would have been stranger for it not to exist. As it is all people in the multiverse who had that strange gentle insanity which led to someone naming a twenty-meter-long scaled beast with claws longer than kitchen knife and multiple tentacles "Fluffy", had the potential to find this place.

It appeared as an old wooden door scratched and burned multiple times with the letters "Beasts Dean, Animals welcome" hammered into it in metal letters. It was usually found when those aforementioned people were at a low point in their life, and they needed some company aside, or with their little house pets.

And if someone, Rubeus Hagrid was in need of something to get the weight off his mind, and some stiff drinks would have been a great start. Honestly, he would have considered it a great continuation, and probably finish as well, but it didn’t turn out well the last time. He was heading towards the Hog's Head but turned down between two houses when he noticed something unusual. He knew Hogsmead like the back of his hand but he never saw that battered door before. And now he was in front of it in a back alleyway.

He knew he shouldn’t.

Unknown new doors appearing in a wizard village were usually the result of some prankster, or something even more sinister, but Hagrid didn’t care anymore. It looked like an inn, seemed welcoming, and he really, really needed something to drink. He pushed down the door handle, and to his surprise, there was no shower of confetti or fart noise, but it opened into an actual pub.

The room was filled with the smell of something acrid, smoke, alcohol, and thousand more, not many of them pleasant. There were perches, boxes, and cages everywhere, hiding serpentine or furry shapes which watched the patrons with suspicious eyes. On the perches sat a variety of critters from birds seemingly made out of pure crystal to a lemur kind of primate which had membranes under its arms. To Hagrid's surprise the patrons were just as varied as the animals.

There was a person wearing a trench coat and a matching hat, feeding chicken nuggets to something similar to a small demonic dog. There was also a young man around his twenties with a red and white patterned baseball cap playing with a couple of similarly designed small balls and drinking a half-emptied mug of beer.

On the other side of the pub a muscular woman wearing animal pelts was letting her bear drink from her wine glass as she gently petted the animal's head. Hagrid didn’t even get the usual stares regarding his height and stature as he lumbered in. He walked to the counter and took a seat beside a solemn looking brown-haired woman who wore slightly singed thick letter clothing.

The barstool barely creaked under him when he sat down and as he moved around it adjusted to his size. He leaned against the counter and let his earlier melancholy flow back into him. It was a wonderous place, but right now it just reminded him of what he had to give up. He sighed as he raised his hand.

A big man, almost his size stepped up to him on the other side of the counter He had a mass of scars for a face, and an eyepatch, but despite this he wore a surprisingly gentle smile on his face.

"Good evening. What can I get for you?"

"Evening. A pint of beer, and after that keep it coming, please. I had a rough day. "

The barkeep nodded with an all-knowing smile. During his long time as the barkeep in the "Beasts Den" he seen this countless times. In his opinion a good barkeep didn’t asked if the patron didn’t want to speak, and more importantly never judged. He just provided a port in the storm.

"Aren't we all. " Huffed the woman right next to Hagrid. She was drinking sherry from a wine glass and wore an expression just as downcast as his own.

"Mhmm." Answered Hagrid as he got his mug of beer. He contemplated to say something or not, but after a bit of deliberation he decided that he needed it off his chest, and besides if someone, the strange people in this pub would understand it.

"I had to give up my pet. He grew up to be too big, and the principal said I couldn’t keep it around the school where I work as a groundskeeper." The half giant sighed and emptied his glass in a couple of big gulps. "I loved that little rascal. "

"I am really sorry." Said the woman with a gentle expression and patted the man's shoulder. "I know how hard is can be to lose a pet. Sybil Ramkin by the way."

She extended her hand the groundskeeper of Hogwarts took it into his shovel sized ones and shook it.

"Rubeus Hagrid. And yes, its, really hard." Hagrid could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He reached into his pocket and started dabbing them away with his half-charred handkerchief." He…he was feisty, but I know its jut because that’s how he showed his love. I-I will always miss him. I remember when he was little, he always tried to bite off my fingers." Sobbed Hagrid slowly and heaved a mighty sigh.

"It's all right, just let it all out," smiled gently Sybil and petted the man's giant hand.

"My poor Norbert is now away somewhere in Romania in a sanctuary. I don’t even know if he will like it there. Anyway…" Hagrid shook his head and wiped away his tears as he got another pint of beer from the barkeep. "…I don’t just want to vent on you. Why are you here? You said you had a bad day too?"

"Oh yes, I have some problem with poor Thaddeus here." She leaned to her left and patted a big carrier box beside her chair. Something hissed at her as an answer. "He is a rescue, but he is bit cranky, have a dull color and already an adult, so I'm afraid no-one will want to adopt him. I can't keep him with the others because he is really territorial with them. I am afraid I will have to put him down." Sybil sighed and it was her turn to take out a handkerchief and use it to wipe away a couple of big tears from her face.

Hagrid nodded solemnly as he looked at the box, when a sudden wild idea appeared in his head.

"I could take him." He said before his head managed to consider any consequences.

"Don’t say things like that." Waved the woman as she got hold of her emotions. "You don’t even know what he is."

Hagrid deflated a little bit and nodded. It was true, and, he had a habit of picking up all sort of critters without first learning how to properly take care of them. He emptied his mug of beer again before starting to speak again.

"Sorry, I just feel empty after losing my dragon, and…" Sybil choked a bit on her own drink and placed it down between a couple of big coffs.

"Dragon…Your Norbert was a dragon?" She coughed as Hagrid nodded again wondering what became of her.

"Yeah, a Norwegian Ridgeback. He became too big, and I had to give him away to a Dragon Sanctuary. What?" Asked Hagrid because the women were looking at him as intently as if she was trying to stare holes into him.

"How big is too big?" She asked suddenly.

"I…what?" Asked Hagrid completely baffled.

"How about, two feet maybe? No bigger?" Asked again Sybil hurriedly and leaned closer with a very determined expression.

"Uh…If Norbert would have been just two feet long there would have been no problem keeping him, yes. But he wasn’t, and…"

Sybil reached down and raised the small box from beside him, eliciting a disapproving gurgling noise from its resident. Through the holes on its side one could see a serpentine body, little stubby legs, a dull green color, and two suspicious little eyes.

"Have you ever had a Narrowe-Eared Smut?" Asked Sybil as she deposited the box in the lap of his drinking buddy.

Hagrid blinked a couple of times and gently wiggled a finger near one of the holes. The answer was a small but spirited gust of flame.

"Not yet." Answered the half giant with a warm tone in his voice. "But I would like to try."

"Well, I have a small booklet with me." Smiled Sybil gently. "Someone who loves dragons can't be a bad person, and at this point I would do anything to spare poor Thaddeus from the chopping block. " The woman's hand disappeared inside her pockets and she deposited a couple of items into the counter beside her sherry glass.

A golden pocket watch, a couple coal tablets, a small metal spoon, a notebook and a couple chewed up pencils. Finally, from the bottom of the pocket appeared a small booklet titled.

"Swamp Dragons and you: The Narrowe-Eared Smut and its care." She slid the paper towards Hagrid and smiled.

"There, everything is there that you need to know about the breed. "

Hagrid, still a bit shell shocked nodded, and slid the booklet inside his own, just as cluttered pocket. As Sybil slowly put everything back into her pocket, she glanced at the pocket watch she took out the first time, then flushed.

"By the gods, it's this late already? I have to be at the palace in half an hour and I need to change before that. Sorry Hagrid but I really have to go. Hello, dearie." She patted the box gently as she stood up and placed a handful of coins on the counter. "If you have any question find me at the Ramkin residence, you two have a dragon of a time together. " Chuckled Sybill before storming out the door.

Hagrid only caught a glimpse from view outside, but the graffitied alleyway seemed much different from the one which he stepped in from.

"Wai-" The half giant tried to say something, but his talking partner was already out of the door. "Palace? Ramkin residence?" He muttered as he glanced down at the little box inside his lap. "I have never heard of such places."

The strange little creature answered with a small bubbling noise and belched a little cloud of smoke.

"Neither did I heard of swamp dragons. Well…It looks like I have something else to do instead of just moping." Hagrid smiled and placed a couple of coins on the counter before taking the box with him stepping out the door.

He found the alleyway just the same as it was when he stepped in. It wouldn’t be polite from a magic bar to not make sure that people somehow always get home after a night of heavy drinking. Glancing back, he wasn’t even surprised to see that the door had disappeared behind him.

"Well, I don’t really know what happened but one thing I do know." Hagrid looked down at the creature which was trying to scratch out the side of the box. "We are going to get along like a house on fire. " Smiled Hagrid and begin to walk home.

What he didn’t know that it was in fact a hut on fire, multiple times. And more than a few scratches and bites. But despite that, he wouldn’t have traded Thaddeus for all the treasures of the world.

#Discworld #Harry Potter #discworld fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #sybil ramkin #lady sybil #rubeus hagrid #hagrid #The Emperor in Silver #gnu terry pratchett #harry potter fandom

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spyvstailor · 3 years

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GRAVEYARD DIRT & SALT

CHAPTER FIVE: BENNY

“South Carolina abouts they have this critter called a 'Boo Hag', said to be a skinless sort of vampire and they like to ride you to death and steal your breath. If they like you, they keep you alive, sucking your air, sustaining themselves. But if they don't, if you struggle or make them angry, they skin you and wear your skin. Just walk around like they wear pants or such. But they can't stay riding you forever, they gotta be home and in their skin before sunrise or they become trapped forever without skin.”

Please support me, I’m still out of work because of COVID, so anything you can toss my way can really help. I’m going to need to feed my kitties soon! Reblog this if you can’t donate to please support a nearly starving author!

Read the newest chapter here below the cut if you want, since ko-fi can be unreliable!

Chapter Five: Benny

When everything went to hell, Benny had been at the top.

Maybe he still was? He had no idea how Vegas handled the swarms of the dead.

Probably no better than Atlanta.

God, what a fucking hole in the ground to be caught undead in. Why had he even agreed to come here to the middle of Satan's nutsack to make a deal?

By the time he waded through the packed streets, filled with fleeing idiots, days had passed and the wave of infection had spread.

When he made it to the edge of the city, it was almost completely overrun.

And his private helicopter, that last hope he had of leaving Georgia, was useless, no pilot. So, he was wading his way through the land of good ol' boys and peaches, heading home.

Because what else did he do? Just stay stuck in Georgia with the undead on his ass? Forever? The idea seemed to tickle him. It was divine retribution for all his sins. This was hell. He was in hell. Well, thanks but no thanks. He'd take his chances back in Vegas with his well-stocked warehouse and his penthouse in The Golden Rose.

God, he missed The Golden Rose. Melody's pretty little voice chirping 'Hello, welcome to The Golden Rose', every time he passed through the lobby, or the weird night gamblers bellying up at the bar around two in the morning, sipping on complimentary Flash-bang's, the signature drink created by Bruce behind the bar. Sure he had more employees than Melody and Bruce, the others, the late-night workers who always were just a little bit off, but friendly enough. The kids fresh out of school, old enough to work at the casino, who tried too hard to impress the boss. Sven in the kitchen, who never seemed to leave, always yelling at him for coming down and making those 'nasty little sandwiches' as he called them, the open-faced ones made with peanut butter and sliced bananas on plain white bread, the sandwiches Valerie had gotten him hooked on when they were first dating. They were her favourite midnight snack and they had fast become Benny's too.

Valerie.

Ten years. Holy fuck had it been ten years?

Plucking at a stretchy beaded bracelet he wore, Benny snapped it hard and shook off his thoughts of Valerie. They didn't do him any good in this new society.

From where he sat. Perched on the railing of the bell tower, looking down across a darkened Georgia, barely peeking over treetops that surrounded the convent, Benny exhaled.

Annie had given him the stink-eye at their new spot, full of bird shit and leaves and any kind of crap that the winds blew into the little tower, but Benny had sat her down gently onto the bearskin rug and the sleeping bag on top of it and promised her they would clean it up in the morning.

He didn't tell her what he was thinking, he didn't tell a lot of people what he thought, no one wanted to hear his bullshit. His old man used to say 'if I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you' and he meant it.

The truth was, the trouble on the wall, the nun dying, had reminded him how dangerous it was. He had become too soft and spoiled lately, the dead were thinning out and he had forgotten what it was like when the outbreak first happened when it was really bad.

They were safer in the tower, should anything happen to the gate, there was a heavy church door to open and a narrow ladder to climb before anything could get at them.

And, sitting on the trapdoor that led to the ladder, Benny knew Annie was safer here than anywhere else.

It had been a long, long time since anyone had relied on Benny and he took his job seriously. Nothing would happen to Annie as long as he was alive and kicking.

During his flight from Atlanta, he had somehow wound up arm in arm with Annie and her mother Laila. They had sort of run across each other and just kept running in the same direction.

Benny had immediately liked Laila, she was tough as hell and he had to admire that about her. Not that he knew much about her or the kid, they weren't real big on talking and he also had to admit he liked it that way.

But Laila had his back and he had hers and they made a good team, but when she went out one morning to scrounge for breakfast and never came back he didn't think for a second the dead had gotten her. He knew her, she was a survivor.

Something else happened.

So he stuck around the area, hoping he'd find something which would let him know where Laila had gotten off too. And somehow, sticking around the small town, he wound up running into that marine and that Grayson kid, and when the kid started talking about men taking his sister, Benny started thinking. He wasn't a gambler by nature, despite him living in a casino in Las Vegas, but he would bet everything he had that when they found these men, he would find Laila.

And Jesus, if he didn't also kind of like that marine.

Not that he'd ever admitted that out loud. Admitting you liked someone, admitting you wanted to be someone's – what? Drinking buddy? At his age? Embarrassing.

But he liked him just fine. The Cajun was a tall puppy dog, but there was something about his optimism that balanced Benny's nihilism nicely.

On the wall below, three nuns kept vigil over Sister Mary Patrick's body. They couldn't retrieve her until morning, so they kept a quiet, mindful watch.

And just like those nuns, Benny would keep a silent watch over Annie all night long, he would sleep when she was old enough to take care of herself.

Sitting by the nuns' water pump in their convent yard the next morning, he watched Annie as she brushed her teeth, brushing his own with the travel toothbrush he kept in his jacket pocket. He liked to travel as light as possible, gun, bullets, knife, toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, and while he'd never admitted it, reading glasses for emergency reading, because fuck if he wasn't getting old.

He noticed the marine traveled with a goddamn apartment on his back and that was just fine for him. Marines were trained for distance and roughing it, they were pack mules. And just as dumb.

He needed more bullets for his tidy little Springfield, come to think of it.

“She's a good kid,” someone said from his left. It was a male voice and not Grayson's.

Benny ignored the marine for a moment, not wanting to chat about the fucking weather or some bullshit, spitting his toothpaste foam into a bucket of water to be dumped over the wall with the rest of the handwashing and face washing water.

There was a nun's body being buried out behind the church right now and he didn't feel like jibber-jabbing.

“We did our best last night,” the Lieutenant said, easing down beside him on one of the folding chairs the nuns had set up around their water source. For what? Water pump gossip? Maybe.

“Dead nun though,” Benny replied, sipping at some water to rinse his mouth.

The marine was quiet beside him, gazing out across the dewy lawns.

“I didn't mean to put the squeeze to you,” he began. “Yesterday in the church. I know you don't like talking about yourself.”

“Sure you did,” Benny returned.

Withdrawing for a moment to regroup, the marine went on, “fine. I did a little, but...it's hard trusting people nowadays, yeah?”

“Hard to trust people before this bullshit,” Benny shot back.

“Fair.”

There was a tension to the marine that told Benny he was gearing up for something, angling to reach for something during the entire conversation.

“You got something to say, don't pussyfoot,” he said calmly.

“Not that I don't believe you, but I want a reassurance that you're not trying to fuck us on this deal with the copter,” the marine said.

Benny nodded. “Yeah, I thought you'd think that. I wouldn't blame you. But it's real.”

“Well, we go in smart then,” the man stated.

“We go in smart,” Benny agreed, stretching out his legs and resting them on another chair across from him.

Beside him the marine remained seated, quiet in the growing daylight.

“We done?” Benny inquired.

“You ever hear about the boo hags?”

“The what?”

“And the moral of this story is...?” Benny prompted.

The Lieutenant shrugged, folding his arms. “Nothing really, I just think about the Boo Hags sometimes.”

“My granny used to tell me about this guy she knew from Corpus Christi, used to hate wearing pants. He wasn't crazy or anything, just said they were too hot and itchy, so he'd walk around in his boxer shorts everywhere.”

Around them, the nuns went about their morning routine, chores, and preparing for their morning mass after burying their fellow nun.

“Well,” Benny said. “Maybe he was a little crazy, I guess.”

Annie came to him and climbed into his lap, watching the activity around them quietly. It was a strange sort of calm to the morning, despite the funeral. It felt like the soft morning's Benny had at his grandparents, warms sunlight, peace, and quiet before the hectic activity of the day. It brought him back home to a home he mourned every single day of his life, a home he had only fleetingly as a boy before it was replaced with the boozy smelling mornings of his parents home.

“Mornings like this feel like my Mamere getting ready for church,” the Lieutenant said. “She used to sing when she was getting ready in the mornings, and she'd sing,

There's a land that is fairer than day,

and by faith we can see it afar;

for the Father waits over the way

to prepare us a dwelling place there.”

In his lap Annie rest her head against Benny's chest, listening to the marine as he sang in a fine, deep baritone. Benny knew the song well, it was his grandmother's favourite. When she finally came and took him home, to his real home with her and his grandfather, away from the chaos of his mother and father's lives.

They were the only people who ever really loved him.

The hymn brought back memories of Sunday mornings dressing for church, of Sunday evenings with the smell of roast chicken and his granny's baked apples, sweetened with brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon, sticky and warm.

He didn't live with them long. They were hit by a drunk driver and killed two years after he moved in with them. Benny went back to the chaos and Edna and Merle were buried in Oak Grove.

At the sound of the gentle singing, a few nearby nuns gathered in closer, curious, and quiet. Raised Baptist by his grandparents at least, Benny joined in with the marine, singing only very, very faintly, as though he were doing it for his granny and no one else. He would sing in a voice only barely above a whisper.

It was Annie who joined in the singing, almost eager and happy to do something that wasn't fighting and surviving.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

We shall sing on that beautiful shore

the melodious songs of the blessed;

and our spirits shall sorrow no more,

not a sigh for the blessing of rest.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

To our bountiful Father above

we will offer our tribute of praise

for the glorious gift of his love

and the blessings that hallow our days.

“My granny used to sing that one too,” Benny finally admitted, in the stark silence at the end of the song. “Yours lived with you?” He asked.

The Lieutenant nodded. “Yeah, my grandparents raised me.”

“Where were your parents?” Benny asked.

“Due to circumstances beyond my control, nowhere in sight,” the Lieutenant replied, a grin in his voice. “My ma was hospitalized most of my young life,” he added in a more serious tone. “The man who impregnated her was...not important.”

“Pump and dump?”

“Of sorts, not really given permission for it though,” the Cajun finished tentatively.

Benny felt his blood chill a little. “I get you.” He said, not wanting the marine to have to open up old wounds.

“You?”

“I lived with my grandparents for a while, yeah. My parents were...selfish pricks, they lived in Galveston.”

“I get you,” the marine repeated his own words. Easing back in his chair, the Cajun asked, “where you from? Where'd you grow up? You said you lived in Forth Worth?”

“My grandparents lived in Fort Worth, so I guess I moved between there and Galveston mostly.”

“What happened to the twang? You lose it or hate it?” The Lieutenant inquired.

Benny chuckled. “I haven't lived there for years.”

“Can never really shake the twang though, yeah?” The Lieutenant teased.

“I guess not. You? I know Cajun when I hear it, but where you from in Louisiana?”

“Eunice.”

“Eunice? That's...down south, isn't it? Way down the bayou,” he mocked the Lieutenant's accent, prompting the marine to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Annie,” he turned to the kid in his lap. “Why don't you head inside the infirmary, okay? I'll be right there to get you set up for the day.”

The girl slipped down to the ground and nodded, heading obediently for the building where Grayson was already getting his shit together.

Sullen, a little pissed that he was forced to face things he had buried long ago in Texas, Benny remained quiet for a good long time. Long enough that eventually the anger dispersed.

Benny sat still and silent so long that eventually, it was just him and the Cajun, who remained, squatted down on his haunches, resting.

“We're running on a very short timeline,” Benny finally said to the man.

The marine nodded. “Yep.”

“That girl, if she is still alive, won't be so young and vibrant if she's with these men, I can tell you that right now. Feel like with no law, men will become animals, women will become prey.”

“What's going on in that tiny bird brain of yours?” The Cajun asked.

“You need to stay here and train up some of these damned nuns, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Think you could trust me?” Benny asked suddenly, turning away from the middle nothing he was staring at and pining the Cajun with a look.

For a good long while the marine eyed him back, blue-grey eyes hard and scrutinizing. At rest the man's face was regal, but villainous, betraying his genuine kindness, at rest his face was the face of a man you didn't want to fuck with.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You're going to have to know so,” Benny urged.

“Alright, I know I can trust you.”

“It might be riskier, but time is important, isn't it?”

“What's your plan, fancy man?”

“When I was poking around the church earlier, I spied some priest shit, a get up for a proper man of the Lord. Might give me a pretty good shield, might get me close enough to those men if I can find them, to get inside their group.”

“Espionage?”

“Whoa, slow down there Bayou-bred, that's a big word for you.”

The two men hushed up as Grayson began to head over towards them.

“Fuck off, Grayson!” Benny shouted.

“Fuck you, assclown!” Grayson snarled back, veering off in anger towards the wall and the gate.

“That kid is going to murder you in your sleep some night, paon.” The Lieutenant mused.

“Ah well, he's a good kid, needs toughening up. Mouthy little fuck though.”

The two men settled a little again, their ruffled feathers smoothing out in the tranquility that followed the exchange between Benny and Grayson.

“You could get yourself killed ducking in on a group like a priest. If they find out you're not or if they happen to find out what you're up to.”

“I know,” Benny replied. “But I'm good at it.”

“Good at it?” The Lieutenant asked.

Benny smiled. “Getting into places I shouldn't be as someone I'm not.”

The Cajun was quiet, before sighing. “Okay. Cut the shit, what the fuck are you?”

“I'm goddamned good at what I do. You just worry about these nuns. When I head out, you need to do one thing for me. You just need to trust that whatever happens once I leave this convent, I'm not going to fuck you over. Annie will stay here, she'll be my guarantee that I won't let anything happen.”

“Okay.”

“You tell anyone you need that I ran off in the night, just not Annie. You tell her I'll be back. You need to do this for me. Can you do this?”

“I don't like handing the reins over, but...you're right. Time is important and these nuns can't be left alone. Splitting up might be the best bet for everyone. I'll play my part.”

“Pact?” Benny offered, holding out his hand. He knew it was childish, but he wanted God (if there be any) to witness his honesty. For once in his goddamned life of other names, other faces, he wanted some higher power to see his bluffing ass telling a truth.

The Lieutenant leaned back a little, before saying, “brothers. It makes you blood. You don't cross blood.”

“Brothers,” Benny swore, the two men shaking hands firmly.

Releasing hands, the two men sat back a little, trying to look like two men just sharing a conversation, as Mena poked her head out of the convent cloister and started their way.

“We meet up tonight, dead of night when everyone is asleep, in the back room of the church,” Benny said softly, hurrying before Mena could join them.

The Lieutenant nodded.

“Gentlemen,” Mena greeted in the high toned, pretty magnolia blossom voice of hers. Pure sugar, pure south. “Good morning.”

“Why Miss Mena, you're as pretty as a bluebell this morning,” Benny teased, mocking her southern accent.

She offered him a stern, but sparkling warning look, the corners of her mouth lifted a little like a cat. She looked like she was grateful for the teasing distraction, grateful because otherwise, it was pure mourning and fear that remained should she not have anything to distract her from it. “You may mock me all you want, Mr. Malone, but I lost one of my flock last night and I'm not in the mood. Now, we've buried the poor woman, and we were promised training. The sooner the better, I think.”

“Are you thinking of staying? You and Annie are very welcome to.”

They had gotten the nuns started with whatever makeshift weapons they could find and while the Lieutenant gave them a rifle handling and maintenance crash course, Mena had once more sidled up beside Benny as he stood in the shadows of the eastern side of the church, watching the chaos, while idly thumbing through a small bible he had found in the church.

“You're thinking of the wrong man,” he replied, motioning with his head at the marine. “He's probably yours for life though.”

She smiled. “We love having you here, Mr. Malone. All of you.” She hesitated, before adding, “I sort of forgot how boring convent life can be until you all arrived to shake things up. Granted, we suffered a loss, but...I think we're stronger with you and the Lieutenant and even Annie and Grayson. We're no longer cloistered, we're a community center, a...a home.”

He opened his mouth about to say something, before considering it, finally he relented. “I know a nun's faith is sacred to her, but...why did you become a nun? You seem...unhappy with your lot.”

“I wouldn't say unhappy,” she replied. “I'm ungrateful in a small way. I became a nun to help people. Work missions and aid the poor and those most unfortunate. I suppose, I just...never felt like I was helping much here. Feel sort of immured behind these walls.”

“Immured?”

Before Mena could answer his question, the Lieutenant joined them, easing against the church for a rest in the shade.

“So?” Benny asked him.

“Well, they don't like the idea of hitting anyone, seem hesitant, but I think when push comes to shove they know how to do it.”

Scoffing, Benny turned to Mena. “What about you, debutante? Wanna fight with the others?”

Mena laughed. “I'm afraid I don't care much for fighting.”

“You need to learn how,” he went on.

“I know how to throw a punch, Mr. Malone,” Mena argued gently.

Inhaling calmly, Benny scooped the nun up easily in one move and had her stomach perched on his shoulder as she dangled over it in shock, her legs and knees digging into his chest in shock.

“So you're telling me,” Benny began as Mena struggled to be put down, trying to maintain her dignity while being treated like a sack of flour, “you know how to prevent being carted off by someone like this?”

“Mr. Malone, please?!” Mena shouted, panicked. Her ever calm facade breaking into a sort of girlish embarrassment. Shrill and just a little tremulous.

“Don't break the nun,” the Lieutenant warned with a small grin.

Sensing the rest of the nuns' attention and maybe wanting to cheer them up just a little with a distraction from the death of Sister Mary Patrick, Benny perked a little more, hefting the woman on his shoulder as she squirmed.

“Are you kidding me?” He demanded loudly. “I'm two steps away from giving her a noogie. This is fun. I'm going to hold her down and snicker-snag on her if she can't break away.”

“Don't you dare! Put me down!” Mena shouted as the rest of the nuns began to notice the noise and started wandering over towards them curiously.

“Look at how small she is,” Benny laughed. “I could toss her over the wall into a pile of leaves like a little mouse. Hey, give me a hand, I want to try playing keep-away with this shrimp.”

“Are you seriously bullying me right now, Mr. Malone?” Mena demanded, still draped over his shoulder, her veil fluttering to the ground, all dignity lost. “Lieutenant, please?”

“I can't step into another man's training ring,” the Lieutenant lied. “It's not courteous.”

“Courteous?!” The nun hollered.

“Think if I put her down and follow her she'll lead me to her pot of gold?” Benny asked, spinning with the nun.

A stray knee from the poor nun hit Benny in the mouth and he reeled back a little, blood drawn.

“Alright, play time's over, kids,” the Lieutenant stepped in, moving to take Mena from Benny.

As soon as the Cajun set Mena right again, kneeling to get her veil for her, she was puffing up like a little ruffed grouse and twirling around to poke at Benny in the chest.

He was too distracted by the taste of blood on his lip to notice.

Behind them the nuns that had gathered were all trying to conceal their amusement at the scene, a few of them giggling into their veils, some turning their soft laughter into mild coughs.

“Serves you right,” Mena stated. “The indignity!”

Benny, idly licking at his torn lip, grinned and held his hands up. “Hey, okay. Put the guns away, shrimp, you win.”

“Blood has been drawn, no harm done,” the Lieutenant said. At Mena's sharp look, he amended that statement to a soft, “maybe?”

“I am an Abbess,” Mena snarled, whirling on Benny again, her little finger pointed at him like a rifle. “I deserve a modicum of respect.”

“A what?” Benny asked, pocketing his hands. “Hey, don't get mad, country mouse, you said you could handle yourself, and boy, did you sure prove me wrong.”

“I,” Mena began, a little louder than her normal soft-spoken Southern belle coo. She stopped short and seemed to inhale, calming herself. “I...will not let you goad me into a fight, just to prove myself capable, Mr. Malone.”

“One punch,” he pushed. “Just one solid punch and I'll leave you alone.”

Mena was quiet, still trying to smooth her habit and veil back into place after her manhandling.

“It might give you back a bit of that lost dignity,” Benny added in a whisper, leaning towards her.

“Sock him, Mother!” One of the older nuns shouted.

“And just like that the teachings of peace and forgiveness of Christ have been forgotten,” Mena murmured.

“If you punch him then he'll stop being a bully,” another nun suggested.

“I don't think Sister Mary Patrick would approve of this,” another nun pointed out.

“Like it nothing, she'd love to see this cheeky man popped in his cheeky face,” yet another nun added.

“I will not,” Mena declared. “We are not animals and I refuse to hit a man without due cause.”

“He just picked you up like you were a duffle bag, just hit him in his pretty face and get it all over with,” Sister Mary Agnes, one of the few nuns Benny could tell apart suggested. “I would,” she added, before crossing herself quickly in a form of silent absolution.

“Aw,” Benny gushed. “She thinks I'm pretty. Come on, Abbess, just give me one solid punch and prove yourself capable. Come on,” he went on, “I know there's an animal concealed under those robes of yours, let the lioness out.”

“Lieutenant?” Mena asked.

The tall man sort of took a thoughtful step back on one foot and considered it quietly, before he answered with a simple, “hit him.”

Mena was quiet, sizing up Benny for a bit.

He could see her small hands curling into fists at her side and tightened his jaw to take the hit.

Instead, Mena's hands relaxed and she shook her head, turning to Annie who was watching.

“We don't hit people who don't deserve it,” she explained to the child. “A lady must always take the high road.”

“As short as she is, the high road would be the best option,” Benny murmured.

Mena leveled her chin almost indignantly, still looking at Annie.

“Good for you, Mother,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Remember Matthew 5:39. But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.”

“If he keeps taunting her I'll show him both cheeks,” one of the older nuns grumbled.

Benny laughed to himself. He didn't know much about each individual nun yet, but he knew he liked the older nun with just that one sentence.

“We are not a boxing club,” Mena went on. “Though we will train to defend ourselves, senseless violence is never the right path. Despite how much a man may want to be hit by a lady.”

“It's always been my dream,” Benny added playfully.

“I'm gonna hit him for you,” the Lieutenant broke in.

Laughing, Benny backed away, hands up. “Okay, I wanted to get hit, not knocked out today.”

This seemed to break up the gathering, nuns moving off, heading back to their training.

Mena, still a little fired up, remained for a moment.

“No hard feelings, Thumbelina,” Benny said. “I just wanted to see your form.”

“I'm sure you felt enough of my form while I was riding high on your shoulder,” she returned a little bitterly, before walking off.

Benny sidled up beside the Lieutenant, still grinning. “She was real mad.”

“Yeah.”

“Has kind of a temper.”

“Yeah.”

“I kind of liked it.”

“Easy now.”

“Don't tell me you've never thought of picking her up,” Benny went on. “She's so fucking small.”

The Lieutenant smiled. “I mean, I could.”

“Hell yeah, you could. You could pick me up, big guy.” As they walked off, heading for the infirmary, Annie following behind, the fancy man added, “but don't ever fucking try, because I will lay you out.”

Chuckling, the Lieutenant opened the infirmary door for the shorter man and said, “you could never, little fancy man.”

Inside the infirmary Grayson sat on his cot, reading a well-thumbed copy of some real crime book, looking bored and still angry.

“Hey kid,” Benny greeted. “You need to learn some fighting too or do you think you'll pull some karate moves out of your ass when the time comes?”

“Could kick your ass,” the kid grumbled.

“Want to give it a try?” Benny offered sincerely. “See what you got?”

“You have, like, thirty years on me, think I'd win, grandpa,” Grayson replied.

“Only one way to find out.”

“You think you'll be ready to head out tomorrow morning?” The Lieutenant asked the kid, playing his part perfectly to Benny's delight. At least the marine had a poker face. “We have to get to that airfield before noon if we want to find proper camp before dark.”

“I was ready two days ago, what have you two been doing?”

“Keeping these nuns safe first and foremost,” Benny said. “You know, about eleven lives versus one? Using our brains.”

Grayson glowered at him.

“Can the shitty attitude, we're trying,” Benny went on firmly.

“Tomorrow,” the Lieutenant said firmly, breaking up the tension, “we will continue on the hunt for these men. Right now, I have to head out to get something for dinner for all of us.”

“Not taking your life partner with you?” Grayson asked.

“Surprisingly progressive, kid,” Benny mused, folding his arms. “I don't even think it's an insult.”

“More observational than insulting,” the Lieutenant added.

“You could do worse than me,” Benny teased.

“Could do better too, paon.” The marine retorted dryly, offering Benny a small grin as he grabbed up his rifle. “Don't kill each other while I'm gone, yeah?”

“Can I hang him from a flag pole again?” Benny asked. “Seems to be the best way to take the bite out of him.”

“Fuck you, Benny,” Grayson growled.

“That is no way to speak to your elders, son!” Benny replied.

“Come on, kid. Let's head out for a hunt.” The Lieutenant said, stepping in calmly.

Grayson jumped up, eager to finally help, but couldn't resist grumbling, “don't call me 'kid', old man.”

“Don't call me old, son,” the Lieutenant murmured, ducking out of the infirmary after the boy.

Alone in the infirmary now with Annie, Benny inhaled and turned to her.

“You like those two?”

She shrugged.

Looking at the child in his care, Benny wanted to say something to her, to emote. But emotions were never his thing, once he opened that pandora's box they wouldn't stop. So he reached out and ruffled her hair, the two puffs on top, at least.

He liked the kid, he really did. Hell, he could almost admit to himself that he loved her and if it wasn't for circumstances and his fucking weak need to be helpful, he wouldn't be leaving her at the convent.

There were mornings, before they ran into the marine, that he would wake up from light, cautious sleep, to find her sitting up and watching him.

She never said much, and he always wondered what was going on in her undeveloped little noodle, she didn't even really speak much even when Laila was with them. Horrors, he assumed, something that kept Laila on edge and wary of their surroundings, haunted the two of them and when Benny found the mother and child, or rather when they had found him, they were almost feral.

He assumed it was something to do with the wedding ring on Laila's finger, of the way it took Annie months to finally take his hand without him telling her to.

She kept close to him now, she had lost her father – as far as Benny knew, and now her mother and the child was wafting on the breeze, drifting around with no moorings. Nothing to tether her to safety and comfort, but for him.

And Benny hated that it had to be him that poor girl relied on. He wasn't reliable, not to people who loved him – at least. He had cut his moorings a long time ago, or...maybe they had rotted with Valerie. Moldering in the grave with his beautiful wife, her cold hands clutching the last strands of the rope that had kept him from drifting.

He didn't mind being tethered by Valerie, he liked it even. Whenever he'd go off and come home, he had a home to come to. She would be there, bright and smiling, her flower garden always in bloom, it seemed, even in the cold Rhode Island winters, when the wind came across the Atlantic frigid and cruel.

She had died in the winter, or the early spring, rather. March. The witches tit of a month, the cold, brown spring.

Valerie wanted to be buried, not cremated, so they had to wait another month before she could be buried.

Benny was gone long before that. He had left the night she died, just walked away.

He liked the poetic idea of their beautiful home and everything in it rotting with his wife, like the idea of her garden drying up and withering. No one deserved her things, or her garden or even dare come near anywhere she had walked.

If he could, he would have built a stone wall, higher than the one that kept them safe at the convent, wider than it needed to be, all around Rhode Island. He would have kept everyone from that state. It would become a shrine to Valerie. His angel. Patient and sweet and everything he didn't fucking deserve.

So with no option to do any of that, he burned Rhode Island from his mind, it didn't exist in his world. It was a crater, with his wife dead in the center.

Everything he owned, everything that remained clinging to him when he walked away, was thrown into the ocean to fucking disappear. Except for his wedding band, wrapped like a napkin ring around a rolled-up photo of her, that he kept in his sock, secured by the knife strap he wore.

When he began to feel too alive, he would torment himself, like a form of self-harm, only instead of cutting his body, he wounded his soul. He would unroll that photo and wear that ring and he would feel every moment of sorrow all over again.

Was that healthy? Was grieving like that right? No. He knew it was sick.

But life was fucking sick, because she was good and he was not, and she died, starving to death because the cancer that had started in her uterus had swept viciously through her body, into her stomach and everything she ate, would be thrown up, black and diseased. And she withered fast, like a rose when the frost touches it.

But she didn't wither fast enough not to suffer.

And even now, with the fucking infected, or the dead, whoever you asked, when they ravaged and tore people apart, he somehow lived. At first, he wanted to live, it was human nature to fight to survive.

Valerie wanted to live too, and she died. So he would live for her if only to eat all the pain he couldn't eat of hers.

And then he had Annie and Laila, and while they were never anything more than people surviving together, Benny had formed an attachment, the first kind of real attachment to the two of them. He had begun to re-weave that tether that had rotted away from Valerie and then one morning, Laila was just gone.

She had left a note, she always did when she went out on her own to scavenge.

But she never came back.

And Benny felt another tether begin to rot.

He was a man struggling to hold on to a handful of sand in a wind storm.

So he held Annie's tether tight because he knew she held his just as tight.

Yes. He did love the child.

He wished the world was better for her, but he thanked the chaos and the randomness of numbers that he had her, and if these men had Laila, if she fell prey to them, he would get her back if she was alive and he would hand over the tether that Annie held that connected to him, back to her mother.

But he was still stunted and fucked up emotionally, so all of this, loving the kid and wanting everything for her, came out in a hand rubbing the top of her head. Because Benny's parents didn't hug and Benny didn't know what to do with a child, he and Valerie had never had one and they never talked about having one. And then she died and he had never been around children except when he was one.

So he tousled her hair and thought to himself that maybe someday he'd be able to express himself to someone else.

Maybe someday Rhode Island would exist on his maps again. Maybe Valerie would finally rest in peace because he could move on and grow and learn to be a human being.

Or maybe he would die trying to get Laila back to her mother and that girl back to her brother and maybe there would be no lesson for him to learn, no more room for him to grow.

Maybe Georgia would become to Annie what Rhode Island was to Benny. Not because of him, he didn't assume the child held any love for him, she was only clinging to him because she was lost, no perhaps she would bury Georgia behind a wall, because of her mother, because of her father, because of the dead and because every day she woke up, she had to see a corpse.

No child should ever have to live in a real nightmare.

Or.

Or maybe someday, Annie would stitch Georgia back together, maybe there could be hope for her future. The dead were thinning out and maybe her mother would return and maybe she'd find happiness, though he knew she would still have nightmares about the dead, he had nightmares about the dead, about Laila and Valerie and Annie, all roaming across the wastelands of his dreams, their eyes cloudy, milky with rot, because the cornea's had no blood flow, their fingertips turning black, their skin waxy and bloated.

Since it had begun, Benny had seen too many children among the dead, small forms, corpses that hungered, but never seemed to eat, only tear and shred and maim.

The thing was, the dead or the infected didn't make very loud sounds. They shuffled and they slogged, their feet dragging, but they didn't moan like the movie zombies, they would give off mewl-like moans. Something almost like the air just rising up from their bloated bellies. It was soft enough to miss if you weren't listening for it. And it wasn't often like they were sleeping and then would moan or when they mimicked and exhale of air. They were near silent forms moving like manifest destiny towards eternity.

Beside him, Annie was very much alive and he would make sure she stayed that way. Benny was nothing if resourceful and he could use those resources to the best of his ability.

If brute strength and survival were what the Lieutenant did best, Benny's abilities were subversive action and artful manipulation.

#novel #support an author #Graveyard Dirt & Salt #zombies #sorry it took me a while to post my friends and supporters i had some mental health set backs due to being laid off and jobless #but im back!

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hollyhomburg · 5 years

Text

Call me Yours (Pt.1)

(Ot7 x Reader) (Hybrid au!) (Blind! Reader)

(Sequel to Dance to this )

Summary: You never would have imagined that more love was hidden right next door, just over your garden fence.

Pairings: (Human! Hoseok) x (Human! reader) x (Wolf hybrid! Namjoon) x (Dog hybrid! Seokjin) x (Cat hybrid! Yoongi) x (Tiger hybrid! Taehyung) x (Bunny hybrid! Jungkook) x (Cat hybrid! Jimin)

Tags: established relationship, Polyamory, gratuitous fluff, there is very little angst in this chapter.

W/c: 4.0k

- It starts with the bird feeder,

- Or as Seokjin affectionately calls it ‘Yoongi TV’ or when Yoongi is being especially cute “Kitten TV” which makes him pout and grumble something about Seokjin being about as entertaining as a sea cucumber in a jellyfish exhibit. And makes Namjoon send Yoongi that little half smirk smile- so full of the wolf hybrid’s honeyed dimples that Yoongi just… sort of combusts.

- For being a bird feeder, the birdfeeder is exceptionally bad at feeding the birds and not the brown squirrels and little white striped chipmunks that gather and eat not only the seeds but also Namjoon’s very special heritage breed tomatoes.

- That doesn’t mean that Yoongi doesn’t sit by the door and watch it, making sure to chase them off with a “yah! Get away” and an open door to shout at them periodically. No matter what time of day it is, or if Seokjin is recording an episode of eat Jin, a Q&A, or an apparel announcement.

- His viewers of course make compellations of Seokjin sighing dramatically, yelling at Yoongi, and screaming back “brat! Would it kill you to be quiet?”

- No matter how much the squirrels and chipmunks eat- none of you can ever bring it in yourself to put out a trap or even some poison to get rid of the critters.

- You’ll always laugh; after all, you think it’s adorable when Yoongi’s tail goes all bottlebrush and swishes back and forth sometimes swatting your across the legs or side. In the past year, he’s gotten comfortable enough with you to consent to you wrapping a hand around his tail and stroking it a little before you let it flick out of your grip.

- The Yoongi before would never dare to admit he liked cuddles. And now? now your morning ritual was for Yoongi to lean his head on your lap, though he does do the same to Namjoon and Seokjin- really it depends on who’s going to be the most likely to give him coffee with extra extra cream on that day. And you’re weak for Yoongi’s purrs. And the nudge of his nose against your hand as he mumbles. “So tired, need so much coffee”

- “Stop being cute” Seokjin will complain when Yoongi lines himself all snuggly along the line of your back in the morning, pouting into the thick fluff of your sweatshirt (the white one with cat ears that Yoongi had demanded you buy a few months ago when it was still cold enough that it was necessary) “I swear I’m not doing anything,”

- Even though that particular type of affection isn’t anything strange in this house- it is a little new for Yoongi, and the three of you are nothing if not respectful of his boundaries.

- You’re happy with the little kisses he gives you in the stolen moments of the day, when you find yourself spooning Yoongi while you take a break from work, playing with his hands and talking to him about the music he plays on the little radio in the corner of the upstairs bedroom.

- (The same one that he got the first month here, dragged out of the garbage somewhere, listening to the radio and dancing at 3 am when both of you can’t sleep. a Half asleep Seokjin and Namjoon knocking into each other when they stumble upstairs half asleep to ask after your absence in your bed downstairs.

- You and Yoongi high on sugar screaming “I love this song!!!” Namjoon and Seokjin happily watching from the door, feeling like every last piece of their family was falling into place)

- They were wrong, there are 4 more pieces waiting to fall into place. you’d never imagined that love was waiting on the other side of the garden fence, the same fence that namjoon grew roses up. Meticulously strapped them to the trellis, the blossoms sweet smelling and soft against fingertips.

- Yoongi might be a little bit emotionally constipated, but he does show you he loves you, even if he has trouble saying it. God knows you all show him you love him often enough.

- Namjoon and Yoongi sitting in that same bed with his headphone splitter, and the cellphone that you’d bought Yoongi and he’d quickly filled up with music, Namjoon lets him talk a mile a minute about music for hours, Namjoon would let Yoongi talk forever if it made him look so happy.

- They lie on the upstairs bed, the stereo droning in the corner, Namjoon on his stomach and Yoongi propped against the wall. The line of Yoongi’s thigh lined with Namjoon’s shoulder. Namjoon’s chin propped up on one hand, watching and listening to Yoongi’s deep gravel of a voice, tail wagging happily behind him.

- Namjoon eventually falls asleep ( he always does- even if he genuinely loves to listen to Yoongi- the bed is still very very comfortable and warm in the late spring chilliness. he awakes half from sleep, feel the comb of Yoongi’s hands through his hair and smell the cat hybrids spiced wine scent. like sun-dried fruit and cloves Namjoon’s head pressed to Yoongi’s hip.

- Seokjin and Yoongi- sitting on the back stoop late at night, passing a can of whipped cream between the two of them, the elder gets so punch drunk tired that holds the can a little too far away and misses his own mouth.

- The two of them staring at the line of whipped cream on Seokjin’s cheek before laughter bursts like flowers in their chests. Yoongi’s shoulders shaking, tipping into Seokjin who is steady and warm.

- “How the fuck?” Yoongi yowling with laughter. Grinning, full gums on display, tilting Seokjin’s cheek to lick it off of him. Seokjin’s blush as Yoongi’s rough tongue hits the corner of his mouth. Cuddled up a little closer than they’d been the day before. Always a little bit closer, day after day.

- The actually “I love you’s” are slow in coming, but Yoongi gets there eventually.

- One night, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands as he watches Yoongi bat at a moth that hovers on the lamp Eyebrows furrowed. “oh” he says, the words startling out of him “okay, I’m a little bit in love with you, you know?”

- And Yoongi’s response, a snort, “only a little bit? I think I can do better than that.”

- The next morning, you wake early, Seokjin and Namjoon still wrapped in each other in your bedroom. you’re a little surprised to find Yoongi up so early, or out of bed (you’d gifted him a heated blanket for Christmas and he’d barely crawled out from under in the entire winter- but it was no longer needed with the oncoming spring.

- “Morning” Yoongi’s grumble. “coffee?” you wonder. A noise by where the maker is in affirmative, you stumble over, tipping against him and falling a little. after a moment, a back hug, your morning ritual though usually- it’s him doing it to you.

- Yoongi shivering happily. Your forehead nuzzling the one spot he can’t reach in the center of his back. Enjoying the feeling a moment before he says “want to help me do the crossword while we wait for the others to wake?”

- “3 words, 7 letters,” “oh that’s easy- ‘I love you’ right?” Yoongi stills, then you can feel him nod. You reach out to feel the newspaper and find it’s not a newspaper at all, but a print out crossword. “oh” you say. Yoongi nuzzles into your shoulder, nose prodding along the length of your neck. And he doesn’t have to say anything more than that.

- A playlist full of love songs downloaded mysteriously onto Namjoon’s Spotify account, lovesong after lovesong he scrolls through, out in front of your home, ready to start his run for the day. Every single one that Yoongi had ever mentioned to Namjoon or said that he likes. Nearly 100 of them.

- Namjoon tumbling into Yoongi’s room upstairs. “ew you smell” Yoongi said, pushing Namjoon’s shoulder. Namjoon huffing a laugh, “I didn’t even run that far! shut up and let me kiss you before I shower”

- You’re respectful of his boundaries, Even when he purposefully wears the old shirt of yours that is basically a crop top, or licks food off of Seokjin’s spoon seductively, scent marks you copiously while maintaining eye contact with anyone who looks, or that pout that makes all of Namjoon kind of melt.

- Seokjin swears half of their flirting is just longing looks made across your living room and sharing a pair of headphones. he tells them this, often and vocally, to which yoongi just rolls his eyes, but the little smirk on his lips tell seokjin that he knows what he’s doing. Yoongi is such a tease.

- “Yoongi- stop chasing the squirrels and sit for dinner” Seokjin complains one afternoon, but you just touch his hand where it rests on your shoulder, “let him has his fun.” Seokjin deposits a kiss onto your forehead after sighing, lamenting the loss of what will surely be cold asparagus.

- while Namjoon looks after Yoongi, Namjoon’s tail swishing back and forth, looking to see if they’re eating any tomatoes, ready to pounce alongside him until Seokjin flicks both of them on the shoulders. “Eat. Before it gets cold.”

- It’s hard to ignore the commands of the Alpha of the house.

- But Yoongi isn’t the only one who likes to watch the birdfeeder. The first time he notices him, it’s because of the small tinkling laugh when he pounces after one of the squirrels, which quickly skitters through a hole on the other side of the fence, yowling before he hears the other person move to pounce on it too, then the laugh, Before the presence disappears. Leaving Yoongi to do little more than wonder.

- The next time isn’t so kind however.

- “They’re someone sitting on the fence! On our fence! A cat hybrid!” Yoongi shouts as he dashes into your living room one day, about a month after he’s officially consented to being your hybrid. The id bracelet with your address and Yoongi’s name jingles on his wrist.

- On your lap, Namjoon shifts, sitting up, regretfully moving from your position of afternoon pets, where he’d been camped out on your lap while you typed up a new proposal. Telling you when you’d misspelled a word or the dictation software had malfunctioned. From his vantage point, he can easily see your computer screen. And you’d rewarded him with a scratch over his ear every time he’d caught a mistake.

- “Did you bother to ask their name?” Seokjin’s asks from where he stands in the kitchen trying to settle on something to make for dinner, ingredients and printed out recipes cover every surface.

- Yoongi’s tail flicks in annoyance, “No!” Yoongi pouts, “they’re trespassing” he hisses, indignant that Seokjin would be anything other but outraged with this. But still managing to look abashed at Seokjin’s scolding tone, Seokjin smirks- Yoongi looks like a ruffled up kitten when he gets like this.

- Yoongi side eye’s Namjoon, looking for backup, “they where playing with Namjoon’s vines.” Namjoon stands abruptly almost knocking over the ottoman as he almost trips over it. “They could be eating our tomatoes!” Namjoon follows Yoongi, who looks validated as they both dash back out to the garden.

- You laugh, while Seokjin sighs, and reaches out his hand to help you up from the couch. Pulling you in close to press his lips to yours in a fleeting kiss before you head out into the garden after them.

- The hybrid is still sitting on the high fence, not paying any attention to Yoongi or Namjoon shouting at him from the yard. The fence is only 6 feet high, and yet the calico hybrid manages to look snooty and above the display of aggression in more way’s then one.

- His tail waving lazily from size to side as he inspects his nails and licks at his palm, Studiously ignoring both of them- though it’s mostly Yoongi doing the shouting.

- Namjoon’s ears are quirked back then forward, his tail stilling before it starts to wave back and forth happily a little. After a moment of looking at the calico, a faint blush creeping ups the back of his neck. Yoongi doesn’t see- too focused on making the rippling hiss that fills the garden as threatening as possible, the hair on the back of his neck sticking up his tail puffed.

- The calico is not impressed.

- Seokjin sidles up behind Namjoon and squeezes the back of his neck affectionately. Holding your hand in the other. Though he knows he could let go if he wanted, you know the garden so well at this point there is very little risk of you tripping. Ever since last month he’s been a little bit clingier to you even inside the house.

- He still blushes when he thinks about it- it wasn’t exactly his first rut, but he’d never expected to really have one again (since they were triggered by a hybrid in heat and obviously neither you nor Namjoon’s had a heat).

- There is the sound of a weird sort of walking, is that hopping? To the divider between your neighbors. The rounded tops of brown ears appear over the edge of the fence. “Hyung? I don’t think you should sit there…” A soft voice says from the other side of the fence.

- It startles both Namjoon and Yoongi from their growling, as a look of understanding dawns on Namjoon’s face. “Oh, I remember you- you’re Jungkook right? The bunny hybrid?” Namjoon says through the fence. Though he can’t actually see the bunny hybrid.

- Any interaction with the bunny hybrid that lives next door has been sporadic at best and only through the fence. Namjoon has never actually been introduced to him; only exchanged brief ‘hello’s’ and ‘isn’t the pollen bad today?’ through the fence after he’d heard Namjoon sneeze.

- Seokjin has never met the hybrid before- only heard Namjoon mention him over the years vaguely after dinnertime or offhand. “Yeah! That’s me!”

- From the other side of the fence, a voice shouts. “Jimin! Get down from the top of the fence before you fall!- no- Taehyung!- don’t bite at my shirt! I’m not going anywhere I’m just-” an overwhelmed goran, the voice comes closer, the four of you waiting on your side of the fence.

- The voice is low, gentle but cautionary in tone. “Jimin” a warning, the blond calico hybrid looks down at his owner from the opposite side, scoffing, before licking his palm one more time, and climbing down from the fence.

- That voice loses it’s leashed anger, turning happy “I’m sorry about him, he didn’t mean any harm he’s just exploring his new territory!” comes the happy voice from the other side of the fence.

- A loud purring resonates as well as a chirp in response, not from Yoongi who’s still looking puffed up and territorial, watching the shadow of movement through the gaps in the fence like he might pounce at them.

- Standing a little behind Namjoon who fusses with the rose bush absent-mindedly tucking the green new growth back on the trellis. “It’s fine! He wasn’t doing anything harmful” you respond, “he just surprised my hybrids is all.” Yoongi does chirp unhappily at your words but Seokjin sends him withering look, Namjoon huddles to your side and whines.

- “We’ve never met before neighbor! It’s nice to meet you! Sorry if my hybrid antagonized yours- I swear he didn’t mean It.” says the happy voice from the other side of the fence again.

- “Invite them over for lemonade” Namjoon murmurs into Seokjin’s ear while Yoongi hisses at the suggestion, “absolutely not! I am not having another cat over here.” the raise of your eyebrow makes Yoongi’s tail twitch, but he stands down, rolling his eyes and gritting out a “fine! I’ll have you know I just rolled my eyes at you.” “noted,” you say, turning back to the fence again.

- “it’s okay- my cat hybrid and my dog hybrid where just worried that he was going to eat our tomatoes!”

- “Oh Jimin’s harmless- he’s a recent adoptee and was just getting the lay of the land. ” the silence hovers awkwardly, Namjoon shifts from foot to foot restlessly.

- Seokjin brushes a comforting hand down his back, pressing a small kiss to the over egger Namjoon’s cheek to calm him down a little, sighing- he’d kind of been looking forward to a quiet late summer night, but Namjoon is curiously eyeing the other side of the fence, and you look interested too.

- “You can invite them” he whispers, “I’ll get the lemonade and some cookies.”

- “Uhm…” you murmur a little subdued, playing with Seokjin’s hand nervously. “Would you like to meet properly? We have some lemonade and snacks if you’re interested in coming over?”

- You’re not exactly sure how it happens, but soon after Namjoon is going over to the fence on the side of your house- opening it up so that Hoseok can slip through the side, he holds it open for his two hybrids.

- He’s surprisingly lithe for the deep voice that accompanies him, though maybe it’s just that Namjoon is incredibly tall and broad comparatively. He looks like a kind human, his eyes wide and the deep kind of brown that is reminiscent of the night sky.

- Hoseok smells like an office building- like printer ink and warm paper, even though he’s wearing a grey shirt with a coffee stain near the hem that is obviously meant for lazy days. Namjoon tries not to be judgemental as he himself is wearing a faded green shirt that has a hole in the sleeve where it snagged on his roses a few weeks ago.

- Namjoon gives him a closed lip smile. Trying not to look threatening to the admittedly massive bunny hybrid that attempts to hide behind Hoseok’s shoulder. Curly brown hair shadowing the impossibly wide eyes. Prey type hybrids are always a little bit shy around predator type hybrids and jungkook isn’t any different.

- His brown ears pinned are back to his shoulders, Namjoon can barely see the baby pink centers. “Are you sure it’s okay hyung?” The small voice says, Namjoon has his back turned, a few paces ahead of them as he leads them around the side of the house into your yard but he still hears all the same.

- “Yes kooky and besides, haven’t you wanted to meet Namjoon since forever?” Hoseok whispers, nudging Jungkook with his shoulder. Of course, the bunny hybrids interactions with Namjoon have always been through the fence, and sporadic. Namjoon has never scene his face before but honestly, it’s a wonder that Jungkook isn’t more afraid of him.

- His nose twitches cutely and Namjoon has to hold his tail to keep it from wagging excitedly. The calico hybrid behind both of them crosses his arms and huffs. Slitted green eyes watching Namjoon with the air of someone who is not impressed. Jimin rolls his eyes when Hoseok says, “oh wow! Your garden is amazing!”

- Namjoon grins shyly, wonders what they’ve gotten themselves into, but is honest in his bashfulness nonetheless, “thank you! I try to work on it every day, but since I’ve started working at the community garden it’s been harder and harder to keep up with it!”

- “Wow, you work? I’ve never heard of a hybrid working!” Jungkook compliments. Then gives a little yelp, he turns to Jimin, pouting even as the cat grins showing his teeth that seem a little sharper than seems human. “Don’t pull on my tail Jiminie,” he pouts.

- Jimin grins, his eyes green slits, “how could I not? Your your tail was twitching like a lovesick bunny” the cat hybrids voice is low and accented, his words making Kooky go a bright red. Namjoon wonders where he’d been adopted from- if his words sound the way the do.

- Namjoon blushes a little, and elects to ignore Jimin’s words, “Um…My job is mostly volunteer actually? But they do give me a lot of the plants especially when they grow too large and reproduce and we have to separate them.”

- The two grasses at either side of your porch are representative of that, as well as the dozens of small clay pots that hold the little sprouts that he’d harvested from the community garden- there are a few small cherry blossom trees that Namjoon has been trying to bonsai for the last half a year. Seokjin had signed him up for classes as a present for his last birthday.

- Jimin goes over and swats at the grasses idly, nosing along the line of the fuzzy cattails. A surprised little purr echo’s and fills the garden. On your small deck above Jimin, Yoongi scoffs and glares at the blatant scenting of his territory.

- Namjoon had initially planted those grasses for Yoongi, and had blushed every time Yoongi went out to swat at them and scent them, but that was another story entirely.

- Namjoon continues to give Jungkook a little tour of his garden, the bunny hybrid opening up surprisingly quickly, his curiosity endless, the ears slowly rising throughout the conversation to stand perked up, directed at Namjoon with nothing but interest. His little cotton tail never stops it’s excited little twitching.

- Hoseok smiles at them, glad that they’re warming up to each other nicely, and then catches you sitting at the table on the porch and ascends the stairs.

- You stand when you feel his feet on the edge of the steps, the reverberating noise and vibration. “You must be Hoseok! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/n.” Yoongi watches the other cat, eye’s narrowing, and does not introduce himself to Hoseok yet.

- Oh crap, Hoseok’s heart gives a nervous thud. Caught off guard as you slide your soft hand into his and smile at him. Hoseok definitely was not expecting someone his own age, let alone you or your flowy soft looking tunic and simple leggings that showed your figure.

- Hoseok is no stranger to members of the opposite sex, but his work is so busy that he doesn’t often have the chance to meet anyone- and you’re- you’re painfully cute with the way your bangs stick out from your messy bun, framing your face, making Hoseok stutter when his heart registers how cute you are.

- You hold your hand out in anticipation of Hoseok’s shake and the hand that meets yours is surprisingly large and Vigny. Yet somehow soft. “Y-you have a lovely home! Your garden is amazing.” Oh, his voice is really nice. deep and kind of resonant.

- “Thank you- though really you should compliment Namjoon since he’s the one who does most of the work on it. My other hybrid, Seokjin, is just getting us some snacks, and some lemonade.” You offer Hoseok a seat at the table and he takes a seat across from you.

- “Thank you for your hospitality, lemonade sounds lovely.” Hoseok says, the silence devolving a little into awkwardness until Seokjin appears, holding a stack of plastic cups and a jug of said lemonade. Seokjin and Hoseok are introduced with a handshake and a polite smile.

- You make to stand up and pour your guest a glass of lemonade, The same second that Jungkook bounds over to grab a cup, his legs excited, propelling him a little uncontrollably, crashing into you in his excitement. Yoongi is turning, a cautionary word trapped in his throat spoken too late as you narrowly avoiding being knocked over by the overly excited bunny.

- Sudden unfamiliar hands on you, wide and soft but unfamiliar, as he reaches over your side- making you flinch and stumble sideways, the plastic cups landing on the deck with a clatter. Seokjin narrowly catches you before you fall.

- Seokjin reacts instinctively, the low growl threatening and rippling. Jungkook looks up, eyes wide at the unfamiliar predator hybrid.

- As expected- everyone freezes.

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thronesofshadows · 4 years

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Two for One || Marley & Evelyn

Takes place during the darkness.

Well, sometimes, as it turns out, not all the police are quite so off-putting...

Another B&E gone sour meant that Marley was once again standing outside of a bar at 1am and not drinking. A true tragedy. That was 3 of the four nights this week now, each of them the same circumstance. Vampires were getting bolder, as were other critters of the night. She could only hope this case would at least be a little more interesting. Turns out, it kinda was. But in the way that didn’t help her other hobby. This was definitely some sort of animal attack. Supernatural in nature, judging by how much of the guy was...missing. Too bad Marley didn’t care to correct the officer when he said they were thinking bear. A bear couldn’t open doors without breaking anything, and there was no glass or broken stone. And bugbears didn’t eat people. They really ought to, but they didn’t. Their loss. She was idling outside, pretending to examine the scene more when someone out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Standing up straight, she looked from the other officers, to the woman, before turning to head over. “Hey,” she said, making sure her voice wasn’t too rough. Sometimes she forgot how intimidating she could sound, but if this person had witnessed anything, she needed to play it cool. “You work around here?” she asked, motioning around. The woman, she noticed as she came closer, was rather attractive. Kinda cute. Blonde hair, small frame. There was something striking about her, something Marley couldn’t quite put her finger on yet. But...that something made Marley want to know even more. Curiosity always got the better of her, after all.

There had been an incident not too far away from her work, and Evelyn had happened to be at the Artesian, doing filing paperwork from some new shipments she had gotten. Because even in constant darkness, people liked a good drink. But she’d heard noises outside and had made her way out, watching carefully from the sidelines. Almost nobody had paid her any attention so far, which was fine - probably better, in the long run, even - she didn’t need to be accused of anything, especially when whatever had happened had nothing to do with her. Except perhaps her thoughts had finished too soon, because someone was walking over to her and she straightened up, because these were the police and Evelyn truly did not entirely trust the police, but she knew that one had to maintain basic niceties, especially because having the police trust you was important. Besides, the woman walking over was attractive - and so Evelyn ran her fingers through her hair, accentuating the light curls, and grinned. “I do, I work at The Artesian. Well, technically, I own it, but I also bartend there sometimes.” She giggled. “Is there something I can do for you? I was working late and I heard a commotion out here and so I had to come and see what was happening. This whole dark-whenever thing is doing a number on this town.”

“Work, own,” Marley said, making sure she spoke her words clearly, “same thing, right?” A teasing grin. She probably shouldn’t have been teasing while in uniform with someone who could possibly be a witness, but Marley already knew the outcome of this case. “Kidding. Also, impressive. Have you been inside all night? You didn’t happen to hear or see anything, did you?” she asked, taking a step closer. Red eyes hidden behind sunglasses examined the women a little closer. But there was nothing about her that stood out enough for Marley to pinpoint what this feeling was. Her intuition rarely led her astray. “It seems someone has broken into the building next to yours. I’m just canvassing the area, seeing if there were any witnesses.”

“Well, no, not technically.” Evelyn straightened up, looking at the other woman with a moment of intrigue. “I have staff, but they do not own my bar.” The woman was joking, and Evelyn knew that - at least, she’d figured as much - but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel the need to highlight the fact again. “I was inside, yes - I heard some noises and so I came out to see if everyone was alright.” She gave a false nervous giggle. “You know, you can never be too careful, right?” She bit down on her lip and looked at the other woman - the whole sunglasses-at-1am thing was certainly a choice. “I’m happy to talk to you, if you want, but I - I don’t think I saw anything of super use. I know this area well though, if that is helpful?” She could practically feel her accent growing stronger, the rise in her voice hopefully conveying to this woman just how concerned she was. Humans had to act that way, didn’t they?

Marley frowned as the woman explained through her joke. Not the joking type then, was she? She brushed the thought off, anyway. It wasn’t important . Some of the CSI had finally arrived and were taping off the scene, so Marley stepped forward, touching the woman’s arm gently to move her further away from the scene. There was something...almost odd about the way she talked, the words she chose. Marley had studied behavior profiling, after all, and she was trained to look for these things, even if she wasn’t actively...looking for these things. “Of course. Careful saves lives.” She gave a little grin, as much of one as she could muster, before folding her arms across her chest. “So you’re in the area often? Did you know the people who worked here? Know of anyone who might want to hurt them?”

The other woman was touching her arm and Evelyn wanted to shrug away, she’d never liked the police all too much - back home she had not thought about them all that frequently, but here, where they could not even have figured out who killed Melanie - some of them left a bitter taste in her mouth. She liked Cece, but they’d met under other circumstances and Cece wasn’t as responsible for finding criminals as many others were. She let the woman guide her further away from the scene - which was fine by her, she had only come out to see what was going on, after all. “It does. One needs to be aware, especially in this whole constant darkness thing we have going on.” A pause. “Well, at least a few nights a week; my bar is only open on the weekends - I include Friday nights as well.” She bit her lip. “I know many people who own businesses around here. Well - I know them at least at acquaintance level, but most seem perfectly average.” Perfectly human, at least. “Well, I do not see why anyone would be targeted, um, specifically,” she continued, dropping in an occasional filler word, a pause in her thoughts, because though she valued being articulate, fillers could be a sign of worry, “but you know, I have heard that this town does have a higher rate of random break ins and attacks than most in Maine. Or elsewhere!” Her pitch rose for a moment before she settled down to look back at the other woman, her eyes taking in the other woman’s posture under her contacts. “So, well, that might be it, right?”

“One thing I’ve learned about this town,” Marley said, giving a little frown, “is that no one is just ‘perfectly normal’.” Even the normal humans had a certain something to them that made them different from the humans of other places. In White Crest, it was almost like they were all trying too hard to be normal, and it therefore made them more suspicious and strange. Marley waved it off, though. “Don’t worry about it, they’re just routine questions.” This woman seemed almost anxious, almost as if she were trying to make a show of it, but Marley had a feeling something more was up. She wanted to know. It was as if the curiosity inside Marley was clawing at her to figure out what this woman had to give. How her fear might taste. “It could be,” she started finally, playing up the danger of the situation. Get her riled up first. “We do get a lot of break-ins and attacks. It’s dangerous out here, especially with all this darkness. But don’t worry too much, ma’am,” she said, turning, finally, to look at her. Eager to see what made her cower. “We’ll do our best to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” Finally, pulled her glasses off, revealing glowing red eyes, looking at Evelyn sternly, the black of her jacket and the black of her hair almost fading into the shadows around them. “Everything will be fine.”

“Mm, well, this town does have certain quirks I have not seen anyplace else, I will certainly give you that.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. Routine questions, of course. Routine only when it benefited the police, and yet if she had shown up telling them about Melanie, she doubted that most of them would have done anything. Which was why she had avoided that altogether. Cleaned up and dealt with everything herself, though she knew that Melanie did have an official death certificate, and an official grave. She deserved that at least. “It is quite dangerous,” she replied, biting her lip. Though she was safe, right now - at least from any human weapons. Not that the other woman knew that though. “It is Evelyn, not ma’am, that makes me feel far too old.” She made a small face, though she didn’t have too much time to process all of that because Marley was taking off her glasses and her eyes were red and Evelyn blinked a few times out of sheer surprise. Waited to see if the other woman was mara or vampire or something else entirely. “Will it?” She said, biting her lip again.

Marley knew something was immediately wrong the second she looked into Evelyn’s eyes and felt...nothing. Not even a hint. There was no way this woman had no fear. She was small and frail looking and had those big doe eyes. Which meant. Marley recoiled, stepping back. “You’re a mara,” she hissed suddenly, eyes narrowing, their red glow faint but sharp as she glared at the woman. Her disdain for her own kind wasn’t unfounded-- the only mara she’d ever felt a part of rejected her. And every other one she met held their same standards. Marley was a monster to them. They were wrong, of course. Marley wasn’t a monster. She was just using the powers given to her in their full and rightful potential. What made humans so special, anyways? Why was preying on them considered taboo and horrible? What about the hunters and the humans that preyed on the mara? Why weren’t they considered monsters? Focusing back, she tried to remind herself that she still needed to keep up appearances. There were other cops here, and she couldn’t lose herself with them around. “Guess I should’ve expected to find another one here eventually.”

“So are you.” Evelyn hissed back at the woman, though as the realization crept over her, she couldn’t help but feel relief. So why wasn’t the other woman happier at this? Why wasn’t she more thrilled to find someone like her. “There are not many that I have met.” She kept her voice barely above a whisper, taking in the other woman’s face, the way her hair fell, her eyes - her lips - Evelyn shook her head and focused back. She wasn’t human. She wasn’t human and she was mara and if Evelyn were the sort to cry with relief she likely would have, then. Even if the other woman did not seem as thrilled as she did. “I guess I do not need to fake being scared now, do I? Everything I told you before is true, though.” She didn’t move out of the other woman’s touch, deciding it was up to her when the two of them moved from where they were standing. “I know people around here, but I have no idea what exactly happened.”

As Evelyn looked at her, Marley couldn’t help but stare back, however begrudgingly. Aside from the community in Seattle, she hadn’t met too many mara, and definitely not any that lived in isolation, like her. Was Evelyn like her, then? Or was that too good of a thing to happen? Too good to be true? Narrowing her eyes, Marley unfurled her arms slowly, glancing around before nodding towards a more secluded area they could talk, leading her over. “Are there more here?” she asked finally, “Of us?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say that, but she needed to know. Was there a community here like the one in Seattle? Were they going to reject Marley? Was Evelyn going to? “Oh, yeah--” she glanced back over her shoulder towards the crime scene before shrugging, “no, I believe you. That was definitely some sort of night dwelling creature. Like a werewolf or some shit. Just have to, you know, keep up appearances for the ones that still think werewolves are just an internet fetish.”

“I,” Evelyn allowed Marley to lead her away from where the police were collecting themselves. “Some. Not tons, at least not that I have met, but yes.” She blinked, still taking in a deep breath. Allowing herself to focus on Marley, on what the other woman looked like. This was almost all too much, and she could only have flashes back to when she’d found out about Melanie and how she’d felt an almost otherworldly sense of relief. Then again with Gideon, every time she met another mara feeling as though she’d found another part of home that she’d never been afforded for the first twenty four years of her life. “Good, thank you - yes, there are far too many here who believe that, but I am right there with you on keeping up appearances. Hence, well, hence the false terror. I feel bad, of course, but not scared.”

“Why would you feel bad?” Marley said, perhaps a little too quickly. “He was just human.” The word didn’t hold disdain, per say, but it wasn’t said with pity, either. Marley scrunched her brow, put her sunglasses back on. If Evelyn was the type of mara that mourned humans and didn’t want to hurt them, then she wasn’t the type of mara Marley wanted to be around. She took a step back, arms taught across her chest. “We all die eventually, right? It was just his time.” But something about Evelyn-- perhaps her curiosity, or the fact that she hadn’t recoiled when Marley had said there was a death-- made Marley believe there was more to her than this false demeanor. She looked younger, as well. Influential. Narrowing her eyes, Marley cocked her head to the side. “Does it actually make you feel bad? That he died?”

“Because,” Evelyn began, watching Marley as the other woman put her sunglasses back on. “I mean, I do not advocate murder.” Just human, the words hung heavy on her tongue, though unspoken. She looked over to Marley, some part of her so intensely needing - craving validation. “We do.” Melanie. My mom. Dying doesn’t mean that it is your time, not always. She let one of her hands rise to rest on the other woman’s shoulder. “I think I was just surprised. I,” should mourn him, but he was never too kind, so perhaps… “Why should I feel bad? It is not as though I killed him. He was human, too. Just human.” The words felt almost like a release, being spoken aloud. She had used such a similar expression with Deirdre, but somehow, to say those words to another mara felt good. Melanie had said the same, ‘They’re just human Evelyn, just because you grew up with them and are half human yourself doesn’t mean you have to feel sympathy for them.’ This woman’s words felt similar. “Not bad. Surprised.” She repeated herself.

“He wasn’t technically murdered, though,” Marley said with a shrug, glancing at Evelyn from behind her dark sunglasses, Evelyn’s eyes reflected in them. “Murder just for murder is bad. You’re right. But this was just...an animal attack. Right?” She gave a knowing smirk. Supernatural or not, this really hadn’t been a murder. Just an unfortunate night for a man trying to lock up his store. Not that Marley felt bad about it at all. “Humans are so fragile,” she said absently, only snapping back to her thoughts when a hand was placed on her shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t something she dealt with a lot, unless everyone was naked. She stayed still, though, taking in what Evelyn had said. Finally, after a long moment, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a card-- one with her name on it. Held it out to Evelyn. “Next time, don’t be so surprised. We’re mara, Evelyn. Death is part of our existence. I get the feeling this might all be sorta new to you, so,” she placed the card in her hand, “if you wanna know what it’s really like, just gimme a call.” She started to back away, smiling. “Anytime, really. I don’t sleep much.” Pulled down her sunglasses so that Evelyn could see her wink.

“Right.” Evelyn pressed her lips together, hard. Glanced down at Marley’s lips, at the smirk. Glanced up at her, focusing on her words and not her lips or her hair or anything else. Focusing on the fact that this was another mara, someone else like her, and the thought made her practically want to cry out of relief. She knew that she craved attention, craved being around others like herself, but apparently it took actually being around someone else to make all of that come rushing back. Not being alone any more - she’d have to tell Gideon about this development. “Humans are fragile, I always loved how powerful I felt at night, how nothing could hurt me.” She watched as Marley pulled out a card, “I cannot help being a little bit surprised.” Death is not part of who I am, other than in dreams. “It - it is not that new.” She frowned for a moment, her lips twisting around. “But if you know more than I do, I am always happy to learn.” She took the card from Marley with her forefinger and middle finger, dark blue nails glinting just slightly from the streetlights. A smirk crossed her lips for a moment, then. “Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?”

That angry feeling Marley got when she looked at other mara was still rattling around in her chest, but if Evelyn really was so alone in this town, without a mara community, then maybe Marley still had a chance to show her the right way. And maybe then, she could start feeling a little less lonely, too. No-- that wasn’t right. She didn’t need other mara. She didn’t need anyone. But the idea of making someone like her, it wasn’t one to pass up. If she could prove to the world, to other mara, to herself, that she wasn’t bad, that this was how it was supposed to be, then she should do it. She smiled, bigger this time. “I know quite a bit,” she said, giving a shrug with both arms, “I’ve been doing this since before I could walk, after all. Nightmares, fears-- I’ve even learned how to see in to dreams. So just-- think on it, alright?” she pushed her sunglasses back up. “You and I-- I think we could have a lot of fun together.” She motioned back over her shoulder. “I should get back to work, but--” paused for a moment, letting it linger. She could tell Evelyn was interested in her, and not just because they were both mara, “--don’t keep me waiting too long, Evelyn.” Before she bowed and turned away, heading back over to the scene. And she knew Evelyn would call-- they always did, after all. No one said no to Marley.

#wickedswriting #c marley #chatzy #two for one

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jrcashwrites · 5 years

Text

Clyde Logan Headcanons

For @ravenj84

Consider this a very belated birthday present that I couldn’t get finished in time (shocking right?). Love you to bits <3

- Clyde has always been quiet about his time in the military, especially about the events surrounding the loss of his arm. Only Jimmy and Mellie knew the full story, but you had heard bits and pieces here and there. Roadside bomb, him almost making it back from deployment unscathed if it wasn’t for that damn Logan curse that hung over the family. Often when Clyde was nervous or unsure of something, he would run his thumb over the outline of the dark tattoo on his arm. You always wondered the meaning behind it, sneaking glances at it occasionally when Clyde was busy mixing a drink with his sleeves rolled up. The ink was faded and worn and you were never quite able to make out the lettering surrounding it. It wasn’t until one night when Clyde woke with a start, breathing heavy as thunder rumbled in the distance that he finally told you everything. Holding him close as he rested his head on your chest, you carded your fingers through his hair as he told you how afraid he was signing the paperwork when he enlisted, figuring there wasn’t a better option for himself if he stayed in West Virginia. Jimmy got to go off to the state school on a football scholarship, which made his Ma proud until he blew out his knee. Mellie and Clyde stayed behind to care for her as her health began to fail. After her passing, Clyde felt aimless and had nothing besides his trailer and his truck to his name. “It was sign up or go down in the mines, and I ain’t ever liked the dark no matter how good the boys down at the bar said the paycheck was. They wouldn’t be drinkin’ the way they do if it was such a good life.” Clyde told you once he got through basic training, he rather liked military life on base and moved quickly through the ranks into special forces. He knew part of his job was to go overseas, and at first, was excited at the idea of going. A dark look crossed his face as he trailed off, looking up with you with hurt in his eyes. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a quiet assurance that he didn’t need to explain to you what he had been ordered to do. He had killed, the count you didn’t know, but the fleeting vacant look of him trying to shove the memory back deep down to where he kept them told you enough. Continuing, he told you of how happy he was when his deployment was finally over, the feeling of elation he felt as he boarded into the convoy to head towards the airport. He had thought about the endless rolling hills of his home, how the green seemed to go on forever and how much he had missed the foggy West Virginia mornings as he watched the flat expanse of sand whiz by out the humvee window. The last thing he remembered was a flash of light and his lungs filling with smoke as the roadside bomb ripped through the convoy. A searing pain ripped through his body before the world went black. Waking up days later in a hospital, he faded in and out of consciousness, unsure of if he was dead or alive, faint images of mountains spotting his vision. “When I finally came to” Clyde recounted, “I remember tryin’ to grab onto to somethin’ and my hand wasn’t there to grab onto nothin’. It was just all a bunch of gauze and tape.” Your heart broke as Clyde held onto bit of his arm with his good hand, rubbing at the scars. “It still hurts sometimes, like the pain is still shootin’ down my arm.”

- Despite Clyde’s injury, he was determined to live his life as normally as possible. Aside from Jimmy’s entire cauliflower plan and all that came along with it, Clyde kept to himself and was a simple man. He never asked for help, instead wordlessly coming into the kitchen as you fried up bacon and eggs in the evening before he went to Duck Tape with a button down shirt undone, hanging open, exposing a bare strip of his chest. Turning the stove off, you would silently do up the buttons, smoothing down the fabric once they were fastened, smiling at the handsome man before you. “All that for me?” Clyde would ask as he opened a cabinet to take out two plates for the both of you. Taking the faded china from him, you scooped up a heavy spoonful of scrambled eggs and strips of bacon from the pans on the stove, plopping them onto Clyde’s plate. Stealing a bit of bacon from him, you took a bite. “I’ve rather taken a liking to crispy bacon lately.”

- Clyde has always had a lifelong love of reading. As a child, while Jimmy and Mellie would watch television or rough house in the living room with one another, Clyde would tuck himself away in a corner with a book in his lap. While he never disliked school, he often found the lessons boring and the only highlight was the weekly trip to the library. He would pick out a towering stack of books to check out, while the rest of his class would only take one or two. At first, the school librarian questioned the quiet boy with a mop of dark hair if he was able to read all of his selections in the week before they were due back. He promised her he would, and from then on, she would allow Clyde to take home more than the allowed limit each week.

- His love of reading followed him into adulthood, although he now has less free time to do so. Has an overflowing bookshelf of all sorts of literature from mysteries to classics, along with various stacks of books on his coffee table and next to his bed. During slow hours at the bar, he often makes himself comfortable on a stool to try and read a few chapters before the night picked up again. He would always tell you about the current thing he was reading when you would stop by after work, catching himself as he rambled on about whatever tale of adventure he was currently engrossed in. At first he would be embarrassed that he had just wasted your evening telling you about a story of a lowly writer and his friend who journeyed into the unknown wilds, but your smile and enthusiasm put him at ease. “That sounds like a fantastic story, Clyde” you would tell him. “Could I borrow it when you are finished?”

- You were surprised to find one day that tucked away amongst Clyde’s collection was a vintage hardcover copy of “Pride and Prejudice.” Clyde found you on the couch, thumbing through the aged pages, taking in the beauty of the book. Sitting down next to you, Clyde took the book from your hands. “You know stories are much better when ya read ‘em rather than just leafin’ through ‘em.” Curling yourself into Clyde’s side, he began to read to you, his low timber smoothly punctuating the words you have read yourself so many times before. Clyde softly smiled as he read Darcy’s words aloud to you “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

- After the heist, Clyde had more money than what he knew what to do with, but was incredibly careful about spending it. At the insistence of Jimmy, he finally called in a professional to rid the attic of the bar of the squirrels that had taken up resistance there years ago. “They never hurt nobody.” Clyde insisted every time Jimmy brought the subject up. “Let Sadie up there for a bit. Kid’s got a hell of a shot.” Finally, he gave in after one of the more adventurous rodents chewed through a speaker wire, cutting off “Night Moves” right before Clyde’s favorite part. Braving the googles, he found a local company that specialized in humane rodent control and finally cleared the bar of the critters.

- Jimmy and Mellie took a liking to you immediately. They hadn’t seen Clyde happy in a long time. Both his brother and sister had long resigned themselves to that Clyde was going to remain single well into old age. Aside from occasional looks from drunken bachelorette parties that would end up at the bar, which Clyde ignored, he didn’t get much attention. He refused to try online dating, even after Mellie tried to set him up a profile. “If there’s a lady for me, she’ll come around on her own good time, not through some computer” Clyde would say repeatedly, until Mellie finally gave up on the idea. When he first met you, he didn’t give much thought to why a pretty lady was talking to him, rather enjoying your company while sitting out on the porch of Duck Tape sipping bourbon together. After a few weeks, you finally told Earl to scram for a bit, leaving you and Clyde alone. “I like talking to you Clyde Logan” you told him as the sun dipped behind the mountains and the first few fireflies of the night began to illuminate the trees. “I like you a lot actually.” You could have sworn even in the low light that you saw Clyde blush, but he finally reciprocated with a shy “I like you an awful lot too.” From then on, you two were nearly inseparable.

- Mellie would often come over on her days off, plopping Clyde down at the kitchen table to trim his hair and chat with you. She’d tell you stories of when she was in cosmetology school how Clyde was the only one with long enough hair to practice roller sets and finger waves on, often leaving him with ridiculous looking styles he would have to shower to get rid of. “He drew the line at a perm” she told you “Nearly failed my state boards because of this big lug not lettin’ me make him curly.” Clyde would groan, trying not to move too much as Mellie snipped at his locks. “She made me look like a damn poodle."

- Never one for flashy things, Clyde instead let the heat die down before purchasing a small cottage out in the mountains. Surrounded by few acres of land, Clyde used his off days from the bar to clear the overgrown yard, the thought of one day being able to start a little vegetable garden with you in the back of his mind. As the weather turned colder, he moved to working on the inside of the house, refinishing the hardwood floors and gutting the kitchen, surprising you one day. “Always liked your cookin’. Now you got a place to do it that ain’t my little trailer no more” Clyde admits as you step into the room, awed at the fact Clyde had spent his days, with help, hanging new cabinets and installing a big farmhouse sink

- Clyde would make sure that the bar was covered two days a week so he could spend time with you. Even though he didn’t need to work, with the heist money more than enough to tie him over for years to come, it gave him a sense of purpose and something to do. Despite the bar hours, you were always his priority, and while you never asked for it, Clyde liked surprising you with little things: your favorite candy that he noticed while checking out at the Grocery Castle or a bouquet of fresh flowers next to the bed to wake up to. One of his favorite things to do with you was going to the drive-in theater a county over. He’d pack extra blankets and put them in the bed of his truck so you both could lay together and watch movies on the big screen. He liked the feeling of you curled up at his side as you both watched whatever the double feature of the week was.

#clyde logan #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan x female reader #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan headcanon #clyde logan headcanons #logan lucky #headcanons

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