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fallcrestrpg · 11 months

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lıllı Radcliffe Hotel: Top Floor Common Area - Late Night/Early Morning 12/25 ıllıllı

RIKKE

It had been weighing in her pretty much the entire night that Goodwin had not only been able to gain entry into the building, but had even managed to get his hands on Skylar, and she herself didn't even notice until it was too late. Rikke was their Paladin. She should've noticed that with Keagan gone and Luke busy chasing Lyra, the girls would need her to be closer and focused on them. Instead, Luke beat her to the punch and wound up taking a silver bullet to the shoulder. God, if _anything_ worse had happened to any of them-

Rikke let out a small groan, but stopped herself short of making too much noise. It was late, and even if Leo had thought ahead to get the suites -and each individual room- warded for silence, that didn't mean that superhearing couldn't realistically still be bothered. She let Jack and Hanuel take the rest of the night as she took guard by milling about in the common area. The lights weren't off because it was still a hotel, but she wouldn't have needed them to know someone was coming up behind her. "I would have expected you to be taking advantage of Lyra's need for sleep?" she teased before turning to face the witch.

PHOENIX

Honestly, when everyone turned in for the night, she thought her cousin would actually be the exception but lo and behold, Lyra fell asleep as soon as she hit the bed. One would assume the kids exhausted her but she wasn't the one taking care of the kids so Nix had no idea why she was so wiped out.

Regardless, she took the opportunity to step outside, finding the common area so different now that it wasn't filled with all the families. Finding the familiar figure, the witch made her way over - only to smile, the moment Rikke acknowledged her presence. "I *am* taking advantage of Lyra's need for sleep. I'm out here so that I won't wake her with whatever I do." She shrugged, "Not that I had a plan anyways. What about you? You looked quite deep in your thoughts just now."

RIKKE

The other woman's words immediately had Rikke's eyebrow raising in a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Oh? And exactly what is it that you could manage to do that would risk waking her?" She fixed her with a dubious look as she said, "So, let me see if I'm following: you didn't have plans to do anything, but you felt the need to leave the room in case you woke up Lyra with whatever you did...I'm sorry, just how _loud_ is your sleeping then?"

The light chuckle that had followed her teasing, died off at the question of what Rikke herself had been thinking about just before. Shaking her head, she shrugged and said, "Nothing terribly important. Constant thought is just one of those nifty Paladin side-effects. Can't turn the noggin off if you don't sleep, and we sleep so much during our stasis already that our bodies hardly ever get to a point where we might need it...of course, that might change now that we don't have to go back into stasis."

PHOENIX

She gave the paramedic a playful shove at the teasing. "Shut up, I don't *snore*, but Lyra's a light sleeper so any sort of noise would wake her - personally, I think it's because she doesn't want to miss a second of drama." She shrugged as if that made logical sense.

"So you're telling me that Jack and Haneul are most likely awake right now too? How come Haneul's the grumpiest one out of all of you?" She partially joked because it was still true in the end. While he wasn't *mean* or a complete asshole, but that man grumbled since he arrived with Dylan of all people. "I suspect that would result the need to find a lot of hobbies to occupy you guys at night? What do you normally do then?"

RIKKE

The shove did absolutely nothing on it's own, but feeling the need to afford her friend the slight satisfaction, she let out a small noise of complaint and threw in a -slightly delayed- shift to the other side. "See, again. I just don't understand, what could you possibly do to make a small noise? I've been in the cabin long enough to know that Lyra is _not_ light enough of a sleeper to where breathing would be enough to wake her." Rikke scoffed at the theorized reason for Lyra's light sleeping. "Yeah, missing 'drama', as you put it, really seems to be her biggest sore spot. She still hasn't let go that she was the last one in the family to find out about the twin's 'true father'." Lyra's exact words had been "true _daddy_" but the way everyone had squirmed, made the Paladin not want to repeat that.

She nodded. "We honestly have no idea why he's the grumpiest, if anything one would expect that if it were an age thing, Jack would take the grumpy role. I've theorized that it might his past, but I think given that he's my boss at the fire station, it might be bordering on Lyra territory for me to ask." A wry chuckle fell from her lips, blue eyes dropping down to the floor briefly before looking up and out over the now empty ballroom. "The way the seals on the Nexus work, by the time we were activated there wasn't really any time to spare to the idea of hobbies or anything outside of our duties to protect the charge we were assigned to. If woke up, it meant that the threat to their life was imminent and our time was ninety-five percent focused on keeping them alive, three percent focused on being a productive member of the hive mind to try and find a way to reverse the broking of the seals, and two percent trying to blend in and not out ourselves as not human."

PHOENIX

"*Okay*, so I just wanted to be out of the room, stop trying to call me out." She snorted. "Let me *breathe*." This seemed to be a common theme in this family - not letting Nix (or anyone) breathe was one of Lyra's favourite things to do. "Drama is her thing - Aunt Ianthe always did say that Lyra could've been a good agent if she actually used those skills for something other than gossip. It's almost scary sometimes how she find things out so yeah, no one is surprised when she got upset about being the last one to get the news. Keg and Luke definitely did that on purpose in order to tell people instead of having them hear from Lyra."

Nix had once guessed that Haneul was the oldest considering how grumpy he was, hence his nickname being 'gramps'. But that went out the window when she found out that wasn't the case. Still, since it might have soemthing to do with his past so the witch dropped the topic with a simple nod. "Right, the Nexus." It definitely slipped her mind when everything else distracting her, "The reason why the kids are babies now... So far the only threat was Goodwin, and he had nothing to do with the Nexus." She joked before continuing. "There's also the matter of certain people escaping after breaking that seal." It obviously didn't just end with Old Man Grey being killed off." The paperwork she had to do for that too.

RIKKE

Rikke held up her hands and said, "I'm sorry, calling you out was not my intention." Though the woman followed it up with a laugh, she also immediately diverted the focus back to Lyra. Rikke would like to think that she had a good grasp on things, but though not quite to Keagan's level, Phoenix was definitely harder to read than some of the other folks she now lived with. Nodding in agreement about Lyra, Rikke opted to play it safe and add, "Oh, and for the record, I'm also sorry if I've given you any reason to feel like you need an excuse or a reason to do stuff like leave your room or whatever. It's your business, and I'm completely okay with you just reminding me of that. Honest."

There was a failed attempt to stifle a sigh before she simply repeated back, "Right, the Nexus." Rikke's tone was empty as she said it, a part of her wishing she too had the privilege of forgetting it existed, if only so she could momentarily forget how she came to be tied to it in the first place. "It sounds like the town has been relatively lucky with the magic kickbacks after the seals being broken, but that thing is capricious and it won't always play out that way. Old Man Grey being killed off is currently a bit low on our priority list of things to address, seeing as we have to cleanup the mess he left behind first."

PHOENIX

Surprised at the apology, Nix smiled and shook her head, "Nothing to apologize about - I mean, everyone else is either sleeping or dealing with their kids at the moment so I guess it must be weird that I'm out here by myself. Wait, do I look suspicious?" She smirked, "I'm kidding. If you really must know - I got a song stuck in my head for the whole day and I was hoping I could dance it out otherwise, I really would just stay up all night thinking about it."

Her own lips flattened into a line, understanding that the seals breaking wasn't exactly good news. "The whole baby situation didn't make it look that bad for a moment." She sighed, shaking her head, "You're right, there's still a bunch of things to sort out. Hopefully we can get prevent any more seals from breaking." It was clear that the forces weren't going to stop anytime soon even if a few of them looked like 'accidents'.

RIKKE

"I mean, it's not _weird_, per say. Just, unexpected is all. I mean with everything that happened in a relatively short amount of time, I suppose I just expected most people to be too exhausted to make the trip back out of their suites," Rikke was quick to clarify. "Suspicious? No, not really. Not to me, but that's because I know who you are- As in like, that you're Phoenix. I wouldn't- I wouldn't like claim to _know you_. That would presumptuous." The Paladin took the woman's explanation as a time to pause and gather the bearings she'd clearly lost. "Jack says Diego told them the easiest way to get a song out of their head was to sing it from beginning to end."

Rikke offered her a half-smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "In all fairness, the Nexus may affect all supernaturals but, the responsibility to keep it sealed and protected falls on us and the Council." And boy was getting things done in the Council's best interest, given the Guild and other international supernatural leaders were already complaining about why the people in charge of the Nexus issue were all from the same town...

PHOENIX

She did not hide the smirk on her face because it was very endearing to see the woman trying to clarify what she initially meant even though there was no misunderstanding to begin with. "Diego's got a point. People normally do that; I just prefer dancing it out instead."

Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned the Nexus to begin with because the expression on Rikke's face fell with every word exchanged about it. With the intent to comfort the other, Nix reached out and rubbed against the Paladin's arm gently as she gave a wry smile herself. "We're all here to help too so it's not *completely* on your shoulders. I'm sure the rest of us would rather have you share the burden than take it on all by yourselves. We've got the Guilden and other folks researching everything too."

RIKKE

The Paladin wasn't entirely sure where to go from there. A part of her wanted to take comfort in the reassurance and the warmth of the soft touch as well, if she were being honest but, there were things that were too deeply ingrained in her to allow it to be that simple.

With the entirety of her past now available to her, there were parts of herself that fell back into place to the Rikke before her last stasis. The society within which she was actually born and raised made it hard for her to truly appreciate any form of affection outside of family as anything other than platonic. Rikke was taught that even the idea that there would even be any other option for how to read Phoenix's action was revolting, and an offense to Phoenix herself. Not to mention that as a Paladin, it was constantly drilled into them that the entire reason they even existed was to keep their witch charges safe and to solve the matter of the Nexus so they _wouldn't_ be needed. The idea of allowing others to take on that burden _and_ get to remain free if and when the seals were restored?

It was way too much to try and sort out right now. "So, did you already have a dance in mind when you came out here?" she asked, then making to pull out her phone, "Oh, the girls taught me how to use this before their hands got too small to use their own. Unless you were planning on going the silent-movie route."

PHOENIX

The sudden topic switch back to music definitely caught her attention but Nix took it as a cue to *not* discuss about the town's problem anymore for tonight. One she shouldn't be surprised with since it might be too heavy of a topic to be discussing *this* late at night anyways. Welcoming the diversion back to the song and dance, Phoenix gave a little wave with her hand to cast another sound barrier around them. Even if all the rooms had proofing, it never hurt to add another one so that people who also happened to be in the hallway wouldn't hear them.

"Do you have a music app? Or we can youtube it." She peered over to look at the screen. The *plan* was letting the music lead me so sort of?" She chuckled, "The song's called Cure for Love by Ellie Goulding."

RIKKE

Rikke could see the spark of concern that her sudden change in topic had brought about in the younger woman, but greatly appreciated the fact Phoenix opted not to act on it. Even if it meant they would eventually loop back around to it -letting things go wasn't exactly a family trait- at least for now, they could shift focus over to something much lighter. And that would maybe place some very needed physical distance between the two.

"Letting the music lead? Sounds a lot like there wasn't really much of plan, but then again Lucas got her musical talents from her mother's side, not ours," she laughed. It was one thing to learn the mechanics of dancing, quite another to be able to just do it. As the song began to play, Rikke couldn't help but furrow her brow slightly at the lyrics. However, as Phoenix had been gracious enough not to pry before, she'd reciprocate and just *let the music lead*. "The dance floor is all yours."

PHOENIX

Learning that Lucas' musical skills was not inherited from Rikke's side of the family had her letting out a light laugh before shaking her head to disagree, "Rikke, I've seen you dance before and you did well! Dancing is all about letting the music move you. Choreography comes from that. I guess we can call it the makings of a plan then." She tapped on the screen to start the music, adjusting the volume a bit before walking backwards further into the area.

She started swaying left and right, getting a grasp of the feeling, "You want to join me?" She asked, almost smirking at the other. Her arms reached out in front of her to motion the other to come towards her. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

RIKKE

Rikke ducked her head and fiddled with the phone a bit in bid to ride out the warmth on her face. It wasn't like she was unaccustomed to being complimented on her skills or abilities or even just in general -hell one could argue that Lyra complimented her at least once an hour- but it had been a long time since she'd actually been affected by a compliment. It had been a long time since she _cared_ enough about what the person complimenting her for it to have an effect...for it to have _this kind_ of effect. The last time hadn't quite turned out so well though, and now there was the matter of her 'niece's family at play...

The Paladin hadn't even noticed when Phoenix approached the phone, but it would be a lie to say she'd managed to stay oblivious to the witch once she began dancing. The invitation had her laughing lightly in response, even as she shook her head. But once the arms were extended, it felt rude to not oblige. "I think it's fair to say you're leading, ye?"

PHOENIX

The playfulness shown in her eyes, Phoenix gave a shrug, "Unless you want to take the lead, I wouldn't mind that at all." She chuckled as she swayed with the other, similar to how they danced last time but a bit more controlled and a lot more sober. "I don't know what you were so worried about, you're doing well." Though she did want to dance tonight, she wasn't planning on doing anything too difficult to begin with - she didn't think this was the time to put in an actual work out.

"I'd say that Lyra would attest to that , but my cousin would take any chance to .. *compliment*." An understatement if her constantly hitting on Luke was any indication.

RIKKE

Rikke gave a low chuckle in response. "Oh no, this was meant to be _your_ time. I'm already technically intruding by having been here," she pointed out. Besides, nothing provided more reassurance that things would definitely remain within the witch's realm of comfort than handing control over to her. "I just happen to have a really good _lead_," Rikke quipped, not really trusting herself to be too chatty. Best way to keep from putting one's foot in one's mouth, was to open said mouth as little as possible.

Rikke could only roll her eyes at the comment. "That woman manage to _compliment_ just about anything with a pulse." Grumbling was easier than processing that Lyra's words had power, if only because most of her observations -about _anyone_- were usually objectively true. Having gotten caught up, she stopped actively paying attention to the music until the song changed. "Oh, uh, did it work? Or do you need another go to get the song out of your head?" Against her better judgement, she offered her hand back out along with the question.

PHOENIX

"Well, techinically I intruded on your time. You were out here first after all." She pointed out before making a face and shaking her head in disagreement. "You're definitely better than you give yourself credit for. Look, I'm not even leading you all that much." Despite the song choice, Nix was having a lot of fun even though she was sure she was more awake now than she initially intended.

And.. as soon as she noticed that, the song ended and had switched over to.. a classical music of all things. Her smile widened as she took the offered hand. "Rikke, you know how to waltz? I'm a bit rusty on my ballroom dancing but I can always do a little brush up. "

RIKKE

Something between a scoff and a chuckle left her lips at the thought. "Trust me, I've had plenty of alone time to last me several lifetimes. Besides, the person who said 'idle hands are the devil's playground' clearly didn't take into account an idle mind." The paladin spun her out and back in, though whether it was the music leading or a way to distract from her heavy statement was unclear even to her. Rikke could only chuckle in response to her next words, because her mind was immediately racing with the double-meaning the words could hold, and she didn't trust herself not to say something otherwise.

Placing a hand around her middle -feeling the waist might be too personal- Rikke smirked as she began to lead them. "Considering I'm ancient, ballroom dancing would be one of the very few things I was actually taught. Along with many other useful little things so one could seem the perfect lady, who would one day make a suitable wife."

PHOENIX

Though there were times when the two of them got pretty close together, it didn't seem as heavily emphasized as now with Rikke facing directly at her at such close proximity. However, Rikke mentioning that she was taught the dance did bring her mind back to reality. She couldn't help but snort at the term 'perfect lady' for the sake of being some man's wife. "I know those were the times, but honestly, you are plenty impressive even if you don't know how to dance." She pointed out as she followed the taller woman's lead.

Even if Rikke didn't mention anything, one could easily tell that this was a dance she was familiar with. "Do you know all sorts of ballroom dancing then? Almost tempting to find out just how much you know now."

RIKKE

"It's nice to know I can still make an impression," she chuckled. It honestly shouldn't feel like such a huge accomplishment to impress a _friend_, and Rikke was painfully aware of this. However, admitting the truth to herself wasn't really an option, and after Phoenix had taken her last attempt at a deeper compliment- it was just best to keep it tame.

It had been so long since Rikke had danced with someone like this -let alone someone who also knew what they were doing- she was surprised she still remembered. "Well, they gave us the basics in a few styles of the time but, the waltz was the one they hammered in the most and the tango is one I taught myself as a 'fuck you' to the waltz," she laughed.

PHOENIX

“Quite the impression.” As often as Lyra teased people, she didn’t *always* do it without reason. Rikke definitely left an impression on the witch and it didn’t help that they basically saw each other nearly everyday since they found out that they were part of the same family tree. Realizing that she had blurted that out, Nix cleared her throat and focused on the dancing.

“Tango?” She almost said it incredulously, “You’re surprising me with every fact you reveal, Rikke.” She chuckled, “I didn’t expect it to be tango. Almost thought you’d say something like.. foxtrot or i don’t know.. the cha-cha.” She shrugged. “Was it weird? Despite it being the thing to do at the time. That you had to dance to impress.. quite literally. Nowadays we dance just for fun or for competition but surely not required in our daily lives.”

RIKKE

Rikke's glanced down at their feet for a moment, giving the likely red tinge on her face to cool down to a rosy pink. Looking back up, she had a sheepish look on her face, but made an attempt at a smirk as she said, "Careful Miss Calvetti, your cousin might forget it -often- but she still does have super-hearing. If you continue to compliment me, I'll continue to be compelled to compliment you back, and we'll both increase the chances she'll hear something and run with it."

She chuckled a bit herself and said, "Yeah, that one was definitely learned once I was already over on this side of the ocean. We didn't exactly have the internet to learn things from other countries back then." A pensive look crossed her face at the question. "Honestly, it's far weirder when I think back on it now. But back then? It was just one of many things that I had to do in order to be considered as 'doing my duty'. One of the least bothersome too."

PHOENIX

She was feeling just as red herself but still she also made an attempt to keep a straight face, "It's merely the truth.. I'm sure Lyra would have also said it.. in a vastly different way but it also just means that I wasn't lying." She hummed, "But Lyra could also take *silence* and still run with it. She really could've been an agent if it weren't for her motivation for *gossip*."

"I must admit, the only thing I do like was that everyone seemingly knew how to dance." She tilt her head with a wry smile, "The fact that it was one of the integral things to being a wife.. I still can't believe it was a thing."

RIKKE

: "Okay, if we're going to use the fact that Lyra would also say the same thing, albeit with a different vocabulary, to further prove that a point is valid, then clearly my ability to dance falls far short to your ability to light up a room," Rikke retorted before swiftly adding in spin out. It wasn't a lie either, she could easily point out, after all Lyra had pointed out just that morning how Phoenix was 'hot enough to pull even the gayest waiter in the hotel'. "Her penchant for gossip can have its uses...sometimes."

Rikke tilted her head to one side and said, "Well, it was more like everyone who could afford to take the time to be taught how to dance and not have their entire family starve, but yeah that still left quite a few." She met the wry smile with one of her own. "It was often said that dance taught grace, and grace was a valuable quality. But really, it was more like if a girl could be made to do only activities that required her to do what she was told by a man, then it would be far more likely she would continue to blindly follow a man's direction as a woman...Honestly, the only thing about my life back then that I really miss would be my family. Even then, only _some_ of them."

PHOENIX

"I... don't know about that." Phoenix chuckled softly, feeling her cheeks grow warm again. The witch was far from being a shy person - though not the extent of whatever Lyra was, but something about Rikke's words actually made her somewhat ... bashful. She even found herself looking off to the side to avoid direct eye contact while she waited for her cheeks to cool. "Sometimes - it's also scary how fast she receives some of the information. I feel like my job would be way easier if I had half that talent." She snorted.

Nix gave a slight wince to the reasoning. "Right.. sorry. It was a different time, of course. " Her smile flattened into a thin line. It was hard to think of her family all learning how to dance and following the ways of that era considering what their current selves were like. Perhaps they'd be very different if they were living in that time. "Hmm... well, for one, I'm glad that you're part of *this* era now." She tried to lightened the mood. To think they were having this conversation while they were twirling about in the area. "Maybe we can teach you some of the more *modern* dances?"

RIKKE

"I do." There was a resolute tone with which she spoke, that indicated a level of confidence she didn't actually feel at the moment. At least not in herself. She was definitely confident in her observation that Phoenix was beautiful, but _that_ was also kind of the problem, wasn't it. Her brain immediately came up with like fifty different ways to play it off and not sound like she was being forward or predatory, but they all seemed to want to come out of her mouth at once and instead it all created a stopper and nothing came out. Clearing her throat, she opted to take the out given and speak to Lyra's skills instead. "I think it's less a talent, and more a honed skill that she happens to have been refining since like, birth."

Rikke immediately felt guilty. It was clear that her honesty in the moment had been upsetting to the witch, and that was far from her intention. "Oh well, I mean, it's quite literally a lifetime ago...or well, a _few_ lifetimes ago," she joked. The other woman's words made it to where she almost reflexively wanted to reply 'Stop saying things that make me like you even more' but her filter was kind enough to give her pause. "I'm glad to be a part of it too," she said instead, before laughing lightly at the suggestion. "I suppose there'd be no harm in learning something new."

PHOENIX

The amount of confidence behind those two simple words did surprise her, but made her smile nonetheless. As they've said earlier, compliments were not uncommon and Nix knew she had some level of attractiveness but to hear it from Rikke really gave her butterflies.. butterflies that she didn't know what to do with at the moment. "Umm." She chuckled, "Yeah.. Sometimes I just wish she filters her thoughts juuuuuust a little bit. Just a tiny bit. Think before acting.. But that will only happen when pigs fly.

Her eyes looked back up into the other's - she did it voluntarily but somehow her words caught in her throat for a moment. "A few lifetimes ago - To think you've seen allll the trends come and go... and come back again." She joined in. "It'll be fun! You know I've got classes of all levels going on at the gym, and if not that, I could give you *private* lessons."

RIKKE

"Considering your female cousin managed to give birth my female relative's _twins_, I'd say it's entirely possible for pigs to start flying tomorrow," Rikke pointed out. There truly was no telling what magic was capable of. Just a few hours ago they witnessed Luke trigger her werewolf gene with no full moon in sight. "For all the hive mind knows about magic, there's so much more we have yet to learn."

Rikke chuckled at the slight awe in Nix's words. "It was one of the weirdest experiences, once the seal broke, to have all of those memories just come rushing back. Some trends really should stay forgotten though." The taller woman had been nodding along to the idea of taking classes at the gym, but at the mention of private lessons -and the clear emphasis on _private_- she was unable to keep a brow from shooting up. "Well, there's plenty of modern music on the phone...unless you're tired of me already- or, in general. It is pretty late," Rikke stammered.

PHOENIX

She nodded with a snort, accepting the reality that pigs may just fly considering how things had been unfolding in this town. To think her own relatives were basically the unicorns of the supernatural world, life hadn't been one bit dull as they learned more about the Paladins. "You're right, for all we know, pigs might actually know how to flow." She sighed, "You'd think that it gets less surprising as we learn about things, but nope."

This time her laugh was loud, "Seriously, some trends should stay forgotten. I don't know who thought it was a good idea to bring them back but that is a crime." She joked before stopping her feet while her eyes widen with surprise and immediately shaking her head to disagree. "Oh what? No, *never*. I'd never be tired of you. I didn't expect you wanted to learn like.. right now - and I was offering private in case you didn't want to dance in front of a group of people either. I- no, I'm not tired of you."

RIKKE

"We live in a pretty unpredictable world, Fee!" She exclaimed, using the nickname she'd gotten into the habit of using. Nix was perfectly fine, but it was what everyone else called her. This way, Phoenix knew who was calling out even before she looked. It was all to make her life easier. Just that. No other reason. "Our teenagers are all babies again. Seriously, flying bacon is not that much of a stretch anymore."

Rikke couldn't help the broad smile that came at the sound of Phoenix's laugh. It was truly a wondrous sound, and it took a bit more effort than she'd like to admit to _not_ focus on how it made her stomach do a few flips. "Well, it seems that corporate America really loves cashing in on people's nostalgia, so I expect baggy pants and chokers to pop back up soon enough." Rikke almost collided with her given the sudden stop, but she was able to stop as well just in time. "Sorry, I-" Truth be told, Rikke wasn't even sure what she was going to apologize for. "I didn't mean to imply that _you_ had implied you were or anything. You're a far better person and way too kind for that. I was just giving you an out, but I mean- I just- I-" The paladin stopped and let out a small breath before sheepishly grinning down at the witch and saying, "I'm not tired of you either."

PHOENIX

Did she beam a little at the nickname? Mayhaps. Or It was definitely about ... flying bacon being reality. Somehow. Yeah. Maybe that. "This town is just all sorts of craziness, whether good or bad. They did say, never a dull moment in ol'Fallcrest. That still rings quite true even after all these years. This town is very consistent."

It was.. endearing to see the older woman be so flustered after her explanation. Her hands moved onto the other's upper arms in hopes to also help calm her. "Good, because it would suck not being able to see you ever again. *Absolutely * miserable." She chuckled, "It's nice of you to give me an out, but I won't need it - *I* offered to teach you personally and I'm not one to walk back on my words."

RIKKE

The thought _did_ cross Rikke's mind that they hadn't even reached to the worst of the seals yet, but one glance at Phoenix and how giddy she seemed made her keep it to herself. She'd already ruined the witch's mood once tonight. "Kind of par for the course when most of the residents are supernatural," she quipped instead

It took a lot not to outwardly react to the touch, which was saying something, given they'd just been ball room dancing. Of course, a reassuring touch was a bit more personal than a hand on one's shoulder for a waltz. "Yes well, I'm beginning to see what side of the family Skylar gets her _dramatics_ from," she teased with a light chuckle, opting to shift the focus. "It's good to know, but for the record, I'd like to think I've gotten to know you well enough to say you don't strike me as someone who goes back on their word."

PHOENIX

Something about the fact that they were supernatural that peace was never an option for them which was not by choice. "I think it doesn't help that the town's pretty small - is this how those cities would feel like when superheros and villians fight? Just tearing up the place. That budget to fix the city every time though." Says the person who worked in the administrative sector.

Phoenix turned slightly, dipping her chin towards one shoulder to play coy, "I don't think it was that hard to guess, I am a Calvetti albeit less dramatic than Lyra. The whole family combined is less dramatic than Lyra." She smiled, "Good. Good.." She was weirdly happy at the thought that Rikke saw her in a good light, not that she really did anything out of the ordinary to disprove that. "So.. Was there a song you'd like to dance to?" She pointed out, realizing that the waltz had actually ended by now. "Or are you getting tired? .. Like in general, not of me, of course."

RIKKE

"Collateral damage is such a major pain in the ass," Rikke groaned. "Part of what we end up helping to help with, because as good as the town is about handling structural damage, there will always be something that would be _too_ hard to cover up without magic. That and the handful of mundanes that see more than they should...I'll take a busy shift at the fire station any day."

Taking note of the reaction, the words were out of Rikke's mouth before she'd even processed them herself. "Oh? And I'm assuming that as a Calvetti this is your way of trying to disarm me with cuteness then? Lyra, Sky, and Keagan use their puppy eyes, and you weaponize coyness. Lucas never stood a chance." Not wanting to risk being asked to elaborate, she latched onto the question and reached over for the phone. "Oh, uh. I...hadn't actually thought that far ahead," she chuckled. "We can hit shuffle and see what comes up?" Rikke turned back to look at her, "Come on, Fee. I already _said_ I wasn't tired of you, and believe it or not, it takes quite a lot to exhaust a Paladin....remind me to never mention that in front of your cousins."

PHOENIX

"Damage control is.. just... the worst." She groaned, "With all the things happening in this town, it's just a matter of time if we're being honest." Phoenix said flatly. It was miracle on its own that they've managed to *still* keep their supernatural world a secret in this town. Especially with all the stories she's heard of the times she wasn't around.

She went from coy to shy when Rikke basically called her cute. Her flush definitely was because they've been dancing all night, not because it was a compliment coming from the other. Fortunately, both of them opted to move onto the next topic. "Y-Yeah, that's a good plan." She nodded before her eyes widened at the comment about a Paladin never getting tired. "... Never in front of Lyra especially, the things she'll say to both you and Luke... that you're both.. um.. *very athletic*." She laughed at her own words. "

RIKKE

"It's been a secret for hundreds of years, we have to ensure it stays that way. At least for the duration of _our_ lifetime, because it would suck to be remembered as the generation of superanturals that broke the streak," Rikke noted. "Besides, it's the one secret that Lyra's been able to keep, so if she can do it, we can too."

Between the woman's body language and her actual spoken language, it was fair to say that Rikke was getting a lot of signals. If only she could manage to read and decipher them... The taller woman handed the phone over to Phoenix. "Here, I'll let you do the honors, so I can't be accused of cheating or something later. And I'm sure Lyra would just opt to focus no our stamina, and run with that until someone manages to either confirm she's right or prove her wrong."

PHOENIX

"From the rate the seals are unraveling, we might just be that very generation to break that streak." She sighed, "She could hide her secret as a supe is because she forgets she's a supe. Have you seen her use her wolf strength *or* speed? It only happens once in a blue moon and no, it's not even when her life is being threatened."

Taking a step closer as she took the phone, the witch looked down at the screen to pic a suitable playlist. In her opinion, any song should be able to work. "There are many things that Lyra would focus on." She muttered, "It's her way of multi-tasking, according to her." Eventually picking a random list, she hit play and set the phone aside. "You ready?"

RIKKE

Rikke scrunched up her face a bit. "If anything, I think it might be the fact everyone has cell phones and social media that might make it to where we're the generation that outs us, not so much the seals. I can't tell you how many cell phones I've had to wipe in the last month alone." She let out a snort of laughter and said, "Yeah I suppose it's hard to share a secret you've effectively forgotten yourself."

The comment made her eyebrow shoot up again. "Is that so? Please, since you would know her better than I, do tell what those things might be. Maybe I can find a way to prevent her attention that way." As the phone was set down, Rikke had begun to reply that she was ready, but then the first few notes of the song sounded. "Oh, this is one of the band's songs. "

PHOENIX

"Social media is a nightmare when you're trying to cover up something - because if they did share it, it's not just the people who originally took the videos and pictures." While she wasn't part of the tech departments, she understood the troubles that came with it. "She's really one of a kind." They may all complain about Lyra, but they all loved her just the same.

Her own brows shot up. "I... don't think that's possible." She chuckled, "Like.. I doubt you can stop being attractive. Luke may have prevented Lyra from visiting the gym when she's there but you well know that did not her from 'complimenting' at any other chance she got." She tuned onto the song and smiled, "Oh, what a coincidence." She started bopping to the beat, "Let's start easy a learn a few basics. Follow the beat and see if you can do these couple of moves." As the music progressed, she did a few standard basic moves to start them off with, pausing after each one so that Rikke could try it before either repeating it or moving on to the next one.

RIKKE

"That's where the advantage of having magic on our side truly comes in handy, but even then if we don't act quickly, magic may not be enough. Honestly a cluster each and every time something major happens. Luckily Luke was able to spin a good enough tale to explain the absence of the kids. One less headache." Rikke let out a snort as she said, "I don't think the word 'unique' is even good enough to describe her anymore."

Rikke was listening up until a certain point, and then everything just kind of zeroed in on one thing. "You think I'm attractive?" The question was out before she'd even realized it was. "I mean, like in a general aesthetic way or- I should really stop asking questions and digging this hole much deeper than it needs to be," she said with a nervous laugh. Diverting back to the music she said, "Well I did let the girls pick the music, so far less of a coincidence." The taller of the two shifted her focus entirely on learning the moves being shown. Yup. Learning. That was the only reason her focus was on Fee, anything else would be wrong. "I think I've got it."

PHOENIX

It took Rikke zoning in on her words for her to realize what she said exactly. All other topics thrown out the window as Nix also focused on this as wlel. "Um.. Well.. Yeah. You're hot." She said bluntly, "Everything you do is just.. attractive." Something about the Holstein family looking good while doing even the most mediocre things. "You, yourself is attractive as a person so I don't think you can just ... stop." She shrugged as if her answer was no big deal even though she could feel the heat oozing off of her cheeks.

The witch couldn't even hear the music anymore as she wondered what Rikke was thinking right now. Did rikke not know she was hot and was just asking for clarifications? Or was there other meaning behind it? Nix shouldn't think too much into this but her brain disagreed and went into overdrive.

RIKKE

It took her a bit to regain functional control of her voice. "Oh..." Was all she managed to say in response. For as much as Phoenix had said, it still didn't quite clarify whether the witch _personally_ found her attractive, though it was starting to sound like she was just stating more of an objective matter. Which was _oddly_ disappointing. Granted, it wasn't Phoenix's fault. Rikke should really know better by now than too get too hopeful on such matters.

She let out a wry chuckle as she finally added, "Oh, I think I can probably find a way or two to make myself unattractive if I really wanted to. I could be complete asshole, for one." Even as she said it, Rikke wasn't entirely sure she knew _how_ to be an asshole, but that was neither here nor there.

PHOENIX

Her brows furrowed at the reaction. Did she say something wrong? Because it didn't look like Rikke was at all pleased with her answer. The witch, who normally had her cool better than most Calvettis, was actually wracking her brain to see if there was anything she could do, analyzing their interactions tonight so far.

Then the other woman's word brought her thoughts back, which only make her snort. "Rikke Holstein, you couldn't be an asshole even if you tried. At least as far as I *know, there's not a mean bone in your body which is one of the many things I love about you." Although one shouldn't say that everyone in the family would be the same (take Dicky for example), Lucas and her nieces were all good people. That and Nix would like to think her eye for people was pretty good.

RIKKE

Oh there was so much confusion right about now, and Rikke did not feel that it would be appropriate to try and untangle the mess of it all right now. Especially if it turned out to be a complete misunderstanding on her part, which would then just lead to things becoming awkward for them over nothing, really. "Well, thank you. It's good to know that my character has made it hard to believe I'd be capable of acting ill towards someone else without reason," she said by way of just moving long. Rikke made a mental note of learning the differences between what was considered just and acceptable means of platonic affection and what wasn't.

"You know, growing up at the time I did, affection in any way, shape, or form was something that was rarely demonstrated in public past a certain age. We never got the chance to really know where we stood with any of our peers unless it was explicitly stated, and even then it was far more normally for someone to address you to mention how you messed up. It's nice to see that's changed. I can't imagine the girls growing up in a more nurturing environment."

PHOENIX

The shorter woman not really knowing what had resulted from her compliment, and nodded to agree with what she said, "it's easy to tell even if someone's trying to hide their assholeness - their big egos are a large factor, for one. What's hard to figure out if they're crazy enough...." If their recent experience was anything to go by. "You're definitely not an asshole."

Really, the whole family did provide the best environment for the girls. With the exception of the Bensons who were no help at all to no one's surprise. "I'm sorry that the times were like that back then." She sighed, "I'm just really glad that Luke is the person she is; she's pretty much the reason why the girls got to grow up the way they were. Mini-me's as they always say. The fortunate thing is that the Bensons literally have nothing to do with the girls."

LYRA

The woman had noticed her roommate dipping out on her almost immediately. She may have been thoroughly exhausted from the evening's events, but there was zero chance she was going to miss out on the potential dirt that would come from Phoenix -of _all_ people- sneaking out of their room, and then out of their suite entirely. It was already eyebrow raising enough that little miss goody-two-shoes was starting to randomly take pics for her insta that weren't necessarily Diablo levels of spicy, but they were more than simply Mild.....

She was able to keep herself quiet and out of site for the majority of the cavity-inducing interaction, though that was likely more due to the fact that she wasn't willing to risk the effects of whatever barriers Fawkes had decided to bubble themselves in. After a while, boredom won and she ended up sending Phoenix a voice message: "Hey cuz! Good morning! Because in case you've had such a wonderful time that you didn't notice, it _is_ in fact morning now. Just before the sun, no worries on that front. ANY WHORE! Just checking in to see if you were able to _relax_. You sounded hella frustrated, but like if it was a _bad_ kind of frustrated like because of something that happened or like a _good_ kind of frustrated because one of the waitstaff _actually_ caught your eye, like I couldn't tell. Fill me in!"

PHOENIX

Phoenix jolted out of her thoughts when her own phone rang out. Her phone had been scheduled to be on Do-Not-Disturb during the night so to have her phone ring aloud, it clearly meant that it wasn't nighttime anymore. "I - Wow.. Um.. It must be morning." She didn't take a step back but she did pull out her phone to see what the notification was for. A voice message? She frowned and played it on speaker - her face dropping to a very unimpressed look once she recognized Lyra's voice.

However, that also didn't last very long since it was basically her cousin calling her out, albeit a bit wrong with the details. "Jesus, Lyra.." She swore as she ended the message. "If only she was an agent.. Didn't think she'd notice I snuck out... but why would she think I was with one of the waitstaff off all people when she knows who I'm interested i- When she knows I have no interest in them." She looked down at her screen again, "Why is she even up at this hour?"

RIKKE

Rikke wasn't quite as startled by the phone going off, having heard the vibration before the actual tone sounded. She had been about to offer the woman some privacy when she began to play the voice message right then and there. There was an amused grin on her features as she listened to the youngest Calvetti cousin bringing her usual brand of chaos even to a message. Her features only faltered slightly at the last remarks.

The witch's slip-up didn't go unnoticed, but Rikke wasn't going to press her either. If anything, she smiled easily and just said, "You know Lyra, even when she knows you like someone, it's not a deterrent for her to try and hook you up with someone else. In Luke's case, the 'someone else' being _her_ self." Her tone remained pleasant. The sting of there clearly being someone Phoenix was interested in, _and_ the fact she clearly didn't want Rikke to know was present but she'd get over it.

PHOENIX

The shorter woman bit her lip as she observed the other. Something just didn't sit right with her especially since it felt as if Rikke was misunderstanding who she was interested in. Granted, she hadn't been upfront about her feelings either but hearing it like this felt.. wrong and it didn't help that she noticed the woman's expression as they listened to Lyra's message.

"I want to say that the only reason why she'd set me up with someone else is so that she could hit on *you*." It felt like a reveal but one that wasn't surprising because Lyra was still hitting on Luke after learning the younger Paladin was quite literally the twins' other bio mom. "But obviously, no one can really stop her." She stopped to take a deep breath as if to gather all her courage for her next words. "...Honestly, there'd be no point in setting me up with someone else because I'm .. I'm interested in .. well, *you*."

RIKKE

The comment made Rikke's brow knit in confusion. "Well that doesn't make any sense, she's been hitting on -and a _very_ take Luke- since ever- Oh, unless you're saying she's set you up with others before...though I'm still unclear as to how that would directly impact her hitting on me." It had become one of the rare instances in which talking out her thought process _didn't_ help to clarify things.

"Oh..._oh_...I- are you sure? I'm not all that interesting. I mean, _you_, you are young and talented, and beautiful both inside _and_ out. I think Lyra was onto something when she said you could have your pick," she laughed nervously.

PHOENIX

It would've been adorable to see Rikke figure this out if it weren't for her own anxiety and nervousness as she braced herself for the woman's reaction once she understood what she meant. When the other started to downplay herself for some reason, Nix let out the breath she had no idea she was holding and took a step closer towards the Paladin while frowning.

"You are and have been interesting since the first day we meant. Rikke, you are .. amazing for lack of a better term, more amazing than what you apparently believe yourself to be ." Her eyes looked down and reached out to hold the woman's hands in hers again. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't into you since day 1... Learning that you were literally Luke and the twins' ancestors did surprise me which I still apologize for the way I acted.. But you're you.. And you're right saying that you're not defined by that and I should know that because I've enjoyed all the times we've spent together.

RIKKE

Of all the things that Phoenix said, her brain latched onto only one almost immediately. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for. No, it wasn't the best feeling," she chuckled, "_But_ it was also very understandable. It's not every day that you find out your new friend is technically someone's very great grandmother...even though they're the same age- Magic is fucked and we all end up in situations where the reality of it smacks in the face and catches unaware. It's all good."

There was a silent pause between them as Rikke offered Phoenix a reassuring smile, and the witch just seemed to look at her expectantly. "Oh! Right, yes. The other stuff you said. Sorry, brain is processing a bit slowly. It's not used to hearing such things and not have to also consider how acknowledging them would be a _terrible_ idea- Because it totally wouldn't be! Not this time. Not with you. I'm going to stop talking."

PHOENIX

She only smiled when Rikke answered to *that* of all the things she said. Still, Nix nodded to what the other was saying because that was pretty much the reason why she acted the way she did. To learn that she was basically hitting on her friend's great ancestors.

Even after all that, the Paladin still rambled on. Still on that adrenaline, the witch grabbed the taller woman by the collar and pulled her down so she could press her lips against the other. The height disadvantage she had, honestly. The shorter woman was literally tip-toing. '

RIKKE

There was the briefest of seconds where the sudden tug on her collar had Rikke thinking she'd managed to severely overstep and said something that would require the witch to bring her down to her level for a proper smack. The most telling thing about it all, was the fact that even though she believed this is what was going to happen, Rikke made no move to avoid being smacked to being with.

Obviously having been geared up for one thing, and instead being greeted with warm lips pressed against hers, it did cause her brain to stall for a moment as it processed the change of plan, but once she was on the same page, Rikke wasted no time in looping an arm around Phoenix's waist to help hoist her up as she herself lowered to meet her in the middle.

PHOENIX

Phoenix really hoped they were on the same page when she took the leap and kissed the other. She was about to back off but fortunately, Rikke did not have her in suspense for that long before she reciprocated the kiss. Her very muffled and abrupt squeal when she was suddenly lifted up into the air.

A arm wrapped around the other, and the other elbow rest on the woman's shoulder while her fingers played gently with the hair. Even while they were doing this, Phoenix still couldn't quite believe that Rikke was actually kissing her back. She really should've done this earlier if she had known Rikke felt the same way.

RIKKE

Rikke gently set Phoenix back as reluctantly pulled away just enough for them to be able to catch their breath. "At the risk of embarrassing myself, I'll admit to having wanted to do that pretty much since the night we met," she whispered with a chuckle.

Rikke didn't rush anything though, taking the time to run her hand through Phoenix's hair, hand coming to rest at the woman's jawline, gently cupping her face. "Magic or not, I don't think I'd ever find a way to describe that gaze of yours other than absolutely bewitching."

PHOENIX

She couldn't stop smiling even when they broke apart despite both their reluctance. Her body just naturally leaned in closer - if it was even possible given their distance. Somehow Phoenix didn't expect that confession. "Really?" She whispered, almost giddily. "What a coincidence, I was the same."

With the hand on her, she instinctively leaned into it. That snuggling Calvetti trait simply shining through at this rate. Said eyes soften at the compliment; something about the way the Paladin described her had her melting. "God, why are you so romantic?" She tiptoed again to steal another kiss.

RIKKE

"I think the only thing that stopped me that night, was the fact that we had an audience in the form of the shared braincell that is Lyra and Maths," Rikke admitted, somewhat emboldened by the witch's own confession. "Of course, once we regained all of our past memories, it was less the audience and more the repression that made it easier to just run every little action through the 'that's just what friends do' filter."

Happily obliging to the stolen kiss, Rikke chuckled at the question before replying, "Well I did hang out with Emily Dickinson a bit." She lent down to give the woman another kiss of her own before slowly pulling back and saying, "If that convenient phone call is anything to go by, you're probably going to have a lot of questions to answer to _if_ you go back to your room..."

PHOENIX

“I think Lyra was actually disappointed that nothing happened that night other than the dance. Meanwhile Maths just didn’t want to be stuck with her *alone*.” Her nose lightly brushed against the other’s. “Mmm. Now you don’t need that filter with me. But it’s also because things really hadn’t calmed down since we got back in town. Event after event. As we’ve said, Fallcrest doesn’t let us breathe.”

Her jaw sort of hung there at the idea that Rikke actually hung out with *the* Emily Dickinson. “That is.. “ So cool, she would’ve said but was interrupted by the kiss, not that she minded. “How accurate was the show?” She *had* to ask. Then her curiosity turned into dread. “Oh god, I… How shameless would I be to ask if I can just be your new roomie.” She sighed, “I don’t want to deal with her yet.”

RIKKE

"The fact that Lyra holds expectations for _other people's_ interactions is not as surprising as it should be," Rikke noted. "I think Teagan may be the only one that can handle Lyra alone, I mean, you tend to only deal with her one-on-one at bedtime so..." The paladin nodded and hummed in agreement. "Considering this is the quietest things have been recently, I wouldn't be surprised if all the adults took advantage of the babies' sugar comas to sort themselves out." If the emotions she was picking up from Luke _way_ in the back of her head were anything to go by...

Blue-eyes narrowed a bit as she thought about the question. "You know, I only even learned about the show because Miles wanted me to watch it with her. I'd say it was accurate enough. Emily, poor dear, was twice as gay, twice as sick, and and twice as depressed because of how it all played out. Also, she was a witch, hence why I wound up involved." Rikke laughed at the response and said, "You're more than welcome in my room any time you'd like, _but_ that doesn't guarantee there won't be questions. If anything, there might be _more_ questions."

PHOENIX

"He is the only one. You have no idea how thankful we are to have Teg in our lives." She chuckled. "Lyra's got a soft spot for him even if she never admits it. He's been able to wrangle Lyra when all of us failed so that's saying something." The witch hummed, "I'm sure everyone's taking advantage of the peace and quiet, as short-lived as they might be." Who knows when the babies would wake up.

Phoenix's eyes grew even larger, "She was a witch? Oh my god, that's.. Wow, I never expected that. To think she was a witch too? ... Did you guys secretly date?" She joked before letting out a groan again, "I don't want to deal with it today at the very least. Maybe not tomorrow - maybe I'll avoid her until I could actually give her answers and/or deflect. Keg's plan on letting her be the last to know is honestly the best plan."

RIKKE

"That boy is a godsend. From what Lucas has told me, he's been there not only to keep Lyra in check but to help Luke through some of the most difficult moments. If Lyra doesn't wife him up, she'll be sorry when someone else does," Rikke said, casually dropping in the lingo she'd learned from the twins...hopefully in the right context.

"No, we didn't secretly date," Rikke said with a roll of her eyes. "She was my charge, and her heart was claimed by and always belonged to Sue. I did help them meet up far more often than is documented, just by virtue of being able to orb them into the same room though." The blonde let out a laugh and said, "It's going to be kind of hard to make it to where Lyra is the last to know when I'm pretty sure she's been watching us this entire time."

PHOENIX

Phoenix agreed with everything she said about Teagan. That boy was such a blessing to have. They really were quite the trio; all of which was roped in by Lyra no doubt. Her eyes did go up when she heard Rikke suggest Lyra to 'wife' Teagan up. "Teagan, patience of a saint. I'm rooting for them. Endgame as they say."

"Ohh. That's cute. You just orbing them to have *their* secret rendezvous. Orbing really is so convenient; honestly wish I could orb - saves the car trip being trapped on the road for hours with Lyra." She really loved her cousin but as everyone in the family agreed, one could only handle Lyra in small doses. Again, Teagan with his saint-like patience. She whipped her head around to see if Lyra was actually watching them ever since - or even before - the text. "Is .. Wait, do you sense her around?"

RIKKE

"Good things cone to those who wait," Rikke remarked. "And I can personally attest to that being true now more than ever. Hopefully he won't have to wait centuries though. Still a human, after all."

Rikke smiled and said, "The next best thing to having love, is being able to see the look on the faces of those whom you help find it. And orbing is very much a handy tool, but not very stealthy. I want whatever Luke, and probably the twins, have. Do wish I had more answers for them." She was briefly side-tracked by that thought before laughing at Fee's question. "I don't need magic to sense that one."

PHOENIX

"I'd say we should help him but Lyra listens to no one." Phoenix shrugged since it sure wasn't about lack of trying. Lyra was the infamous Hurrnado for a reason.

"No, I wouldn't think it's all that stealthy - the bright light is *really* telling. Like you have a better chance of 'hiding' it during the day than when you orb at night." Her smile softened, "Luke is all about that patience too.. To think she waited for Keg for so long - even having taken care of the twins on her behalf." She sighed, "I'm beginning to think the entire Holstein family tree is a bunch of romantics." She groaned, "She's stalking us right now, isn't she? Nope, not heading back. let's go to your room and when time lets us.. orb me back into the room so I can grab my things."

RIKKE

"That's the thing, isn't it. We all just be default always go with 'Lyra listens to no one' but as we were just discussing, she clearly listens to both herself _and_ Teagan. If anyone will be able to figure out how to get a point across to Lyra without any help, it'll be him...eventually."

Rikke looked unimpressed with the commentary, and jokingly threw in, "Well just go ahead and tell me blue is your most hated color while we're at it." She couldn't help the look of pride and almost wonder that overtook her features at the thought of her descendant. "Lucas is...something else entirely. The way she's been putting those girls first, from day one, and not even remotely considering they were hers. I can't claim that comes from any side of the family, to be honest. It's all her." Rikke laughed at the groan and simply said, "Yeah sure. Let her see us orb off together and then have her not see _you_ until a later time. That'll keep her quite, surely."

PHOENIX

Though they had broken up, Nix was still rooting for Teg and Lyra - they felt like endgame afterall. "I'm really glad that Lyra - and Luke - has Teagan." She concluded.

She shook her head as she bit down her lower lip, "I didn't say I hate it." She chuckled, "Hmm, perhaps.. Though I do have a feeling you might do the same." It did back up her belief that the entire Holstein tree was romantic, and really the best people in general. "Either way, it's admirable, what Luke did - And it looks like she got the girl too in the end. Patience of a saint, the two of them." There was a slight pause when a thought came to mind, "Or does that say something about us Calvettis?" Her arms came down, only to wrap themselves around the woman's waist, "I don't think it'll keep her quiet, but at the very least, she won't be able to bombard me with questions?" Her tone went up with uncertainty. "I just want to be here with you and not think about what my cousin will say with that unfiltered mouth of hers."

RIKKE

"Oh you have a feeling? Is this your way of easing me into the news that you have a child or even chil_dren_ that I have yet to be made aware of? I mean, I think after dealing with Lyra just so I could get to spend time with you as a friend, I'd be prepared to take a few 'your not my mom' s if it means getting to get a proper _goodnight_ instead of whatever awkward dance we've been doing," Rikke teased.

The blonde chuckled and simply said, "I'm old, Fee. I can recognize a trap when I see one." No way was she commenting on the Calvettis right now. Wasting no time in wrapping her own arms around the smaller frame, she placed a kiss to the top of Phoenix's head and said, "Alright, alright. Consider your wish granted."

#discord thread #Christmas Party 01

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chiwhorei · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭

cross-posted to Ao3!

pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~4.4k

tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited

a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come.

the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani

hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich

and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.

How the fuck did you get here?

***

You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.

“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.

Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget.

“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots.

“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.

You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing.

“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.

Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space.

“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance.

Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West

The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.

You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest.

He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”

“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.

He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil.

“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.

“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.”

“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.

The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.

You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.

The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.

“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.

You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.

“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”

If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle.

“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.

Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.

“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.

“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--

“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.

You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins.

“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”

A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.

Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.

“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.

You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.

“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”

You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--

“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.”

That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet.

You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back.

“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”

“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~”

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.”

The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.

Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice.

* * *

The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.

Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.

You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.

Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming.

Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.

Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.

His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding.

Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.

His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.

All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.

He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention.

Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines.

He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.

Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?

All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.

Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.

“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?”

You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?

You do. Against any better judgement, you do.

He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke.

Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--

The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.

Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.

You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough.

His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.

“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”

His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.

He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.

You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.

Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.

Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.

His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck.

He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.

The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.

Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.

You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil.

He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago.

To please Issei.

He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color.

Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.

He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.

The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs.

Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.

The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.

The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.

* * *

You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into.

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do.

Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back.

“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap. Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome.

What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges.

When was the last time you felt this alive?

He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map.

And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.

You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.

“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?”

Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.

You don’t.

Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls.

“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.

“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”

Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.

Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.

His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood.

You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.

“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.”

A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses.

Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.

Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.

You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?”

Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.

Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.

“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.

You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.

He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#issei matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #the smut pile collab #the smut pile western collab #the lawbreakers: multiverse #tw: drugs #tw: voyeurism #sin.drugs #sin.voyeurism

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Beyond the Bay Chapter 10: Whats up with Yoshi?

Summary: While Raphael tries to calm down with the help of Splinter, Donnie has a talk with Leonardo about Yoshi.

Tags: @selfindulgenz @digitl-art-monstr @ilo-artistry @brightlotusmoon @rottmnt-addict

Leonardo stood up just as suddenly as Raphael had, leaving his plate at the table as he stormed out of the kitchen.

“Leo!” Donatello was the next to stand, hurrying after his brother.

Michelangelo didn't react. He just as stiff and speechless as his guests were. His expression broke. His lip began quivering as he tucked into himself and started to cry. Tears came heavy and fast; Raph was the quickest out of his seat and ushered to the box turtle’s comfort, wrapping Michelangelo in arms as big as he was. Michelangelo leaned into the hug, resting his head against Raph’s neck and curling his body into a tight ball that the older shinobi could easily embrace.

“Perhaps we… overstepped our bounds…” Splinter said slowly, his eyes holding nothing but patient understanding toward the young teen. “I apologize for causing such emotional distress…”

Michelangelo wanted to respond, but the tears wouldn’t stop to let the words through. Instead, he just leaned his weight further into his friend to hide away from the world.

***

Raphael needed to calm down. He needed to breathe and think somewhere away from questions, even the ones left unsaid. His hands were shaking too badly for the accuracy needed to knit, and when he had tried all he succeeded in doing was clacking the needles together and making nothing more than a tangled wad of yarn. Busywork always seemed to help, so that’s what he fell to doing. He settled on making up Michelangelo’s room for the brotherly sleepover that Michelangelo was so excited for. It would be cramped quarters, but he was sure they could all fit in Michelangelo’s race car bed with a little maneuvering; Raphael even had his own rubber sleeper shell so his spikes wouldn’t hurt them in the night! The bed had been a birthday gift from Donatello the previous year, and Michelangelo himself had handled the decorations of the wooden frame. As one would expect, it was just as vibrant as Mikey was.

There came a gentle knock at the open door.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Splinter said in that soft, humble voice of his.

“Uh… n-no, just some... “ Raphael let out a long breath and motioned vaguely toward the blankets and pillows he had assembled into a comfortable nest. He couldn’t find the words, so he melted away into low mumbles.

“I see.” Splinter nodded, “It looks very comfortable. Are you sure you don’t mind sharing your rooms?”

Raphael shrugged. “Eh, it’s whatever. Mikey loves sleepovers, so…” Raphael bit his lip out of habit and rubbed his arm.

“Still, I appreciate your generosity.” He approached Raphael at a slow gait and held out his paw near Raphael, but not quite touching him, allowing Raphael to take that final reach if he so choosed; and he did. Splinter ran a finger carefully across the far-larger hand, his expression a splitting smile. “I’m sorry if my family overstepped our boundaries at supper. Leonardo is simply… eager to get back home, as we all are.”

“No no no, it’s not your fault!” Raphael quickly reassured. “I know how Leo’s can get when they’re antsy.

Splinter gave a cheerful laugh. “Yes; I suppose my son and your brother are more alike than we initially realized.”

“Yeah, especially recently...” Raphael caught himself. He growled, swiping at his face trying to clear the cloud in his mind. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind right now.”

“Of course.” Splinter nodded, “I understand completely.”

Raphael sat down with enough force to shake the room; Splinter sat down beside him.

“Your father is… unwell?” Splinter asked cautiously.

“Erm…” Raphael pursed his lips and gave a thoughtful grunt. “Uh. Physically he’s as well as he can be— Leo and Don make sure of that.”

“But mentally?” Splinter prompted.

Raphael couldn’t answer. It was all he could do to shake his head and give a weak, gasping sob, though no tears came to match. Almost out of habit, Raphael pressed his weight into Splinter and rested his head on the old rat’s shoulders; Splinter carried the burden of Raphael with little trouble, carefully shushing the mutant's sobs while stroking his carapace.

“There there, it is alright.” Splinter soothed. “I can imagine how difficult it is to care for your father while maintaining your duties at the same time.”

“It is.” Raphael shook his broad head. “And… and I try to balance things so we can do both, but Leo’s just making it so hard! We’re yelling at each other all the time, Donnie holes up in his bedroom, and Mikey is just so sad. I don’t know what to do…”

“Hey, easy…” Splinter stroked the unscarred side of Raphael’s face, “You will figure it out. Would I be overzealous to ask about…?”

“Uh.” Raphael took a deep breath to think. “We took him to a yokai specialist that uh… said LBD or something like that. Protein deposits in the brain or nerve cells or whatever. I… kinda blanked out.”

“Of course.” Splinter nodded, “It is only natural.”

“Leo handles all of that medical stuff anyway.” Raphael waved a dismissive hand, “Doctor appointments, physical therapy, stuff like that…”

“You’re awfully lucky you have all those options.” Splinter said, “Perhaps we could get Michelangelo checked out— my son, I mean. Donatello is wonderful with him, but internet searches and medical books can only go so far.”

There was no verbal response, but Raphael grunted and nodded with eyes averted. Splinter frowned and lowered his head to meet the snapping turtle’s gaze, smile just as patient.

“Do you agree, Raphael?”

Raphael shrugged. “I dunno. I mean— it’s worked so far for us. I get that Leo wants dad to have all these specialists and these caregivers and—and I understand that dad needs the care, but it’s expensive and we can do half that stuff by ourselves! If dad really needs something then it’s not an issue, but Leo keeps wasting all this time and money to get the same exact answer! It’s stupid!”

“I see.” Splinter nodded, “I understand that pride may be a difficult thing to overcome with something so personal…”

“And it’s not just the appointments!” It was nice to have someone to talk to, an unbiased source, so Raphael just kept talking. He could feel a weight lifting off of his shoulders and chest. “Leo’s has it in his head that dad needs a full-time nurse!”

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t know…” Raphael shook his head, “I mean, I can’t really stand the thought of some stranger coming here and… trusting someone we don’t know with taking care of dad.”

“You’re untrusting of strangers…”

“Well, yeah. We’ve been pretty sheltered most of our lives. All of this… out in the open stuff is really new to us.”

“It is a valid worry.” Splinter reassured, “Is there any alternative?”

“I don’t see why we can’t do what we’ve been doing! You know— take turns staying behind to take care of dad.”

“You would split up the team…”

“I mean… it’s for dad! And it’s what we’ve been doing for the past two months, and it’s worked out great! Leo just doesn’t want to put in the work…”

“I’m certain that’s not what it is at all!” Splinter insisted, “You said Leonardo was taking your father to all of these appointments! That doesn’t seem lazy to me!”

“It’s lazy when it gets him out of training and patrol constantly.” Raphael said bitterly.

“Ah.” Splinter understood, “Well, why not take turns accompanying Yoshi?”

“I tried that; Leo’s the only one who knows enough about this stuff to fill in the doctor's.”

“Your Donatello isn’t of help?”

“Not with medical science. He’s more of a tech nerd.”

“My Donatello is much of a… jack of all trades, if you would. Perhaps during our stay he could help out.”

“You think he would?” Raphael had a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I don’t see why not. I will ask him about it in the morning.”

“Thanks.” Raphael breathed, his smile coming back with a more genuine emotion, “Gee, we really owe you for everything you’ve done for us.”

“We didn't help you boys just to get something owed.” Splinter stated, “It was just the right thing to do.”

“I know!” Raphael insisted, “And helping you guys is the right thing for us to do!

“You are a very kind soul, Raphael, and I am so thankful that me and my sons had this place to turn to in our hour of need. Friends to rely on.”

Raphael took Splinter’s hands in his. “You’re always welcome here! We would have visited sooner but… life happened.”

“Do not be guilty, young Raphael. Guilt does not suit those eyes well.”

Raphael rumbled a laugh. “I’ll try to remember that.”

~~~

“Hey.” Donnie opened the closet to find Leonardo sitting inside; he closed the door and joined Leonardo, having to pull his knees tight to his chest to cram all seven feet of him inside.

“Hey.” Leonardo muttered, hardly acknowledging Donnie’s presence.

“Your Donnie’s looking for you, you know.”

“How’d you find me first, then?”

Donnie shrugged. “I’m a ninja. Do you… wanna talk about what happened?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Leonardo scoffed, almost laughing, “You saw what went down. There’s nothing more to it.”

“Oh, I think there is.” Donnie said; when Leonardo looked in the box turtles eyes, he was met with the cold, cobra stare that Donnie was known for. “I’m curious. Enlighten me.”

Leonardo gulped. “Just… the past six months have been an… all-round crap fest. Just one thing after the other— it’s exhausting! And arguing with Raph doesn’t make things any better.”

“Haven’t you and your Raph always butted heads?”

“Not like this! Not every day— and not so violent! Not over something as important as this… as important as dad.”

“Do you know what caused it?” Donnie asked vaguely, but he trusted in Leonardo to know what he was talking about.

“It’s LBD.” Leonardo shook his head, “Doc says so.”

Donnie frowned. “LBD shouldn’t have progressed so quickly. You said it’s only been six months?”

“Five months, and that’s since he was diagnosed, not since it developed.” Leonardo corrected, “He’s had it for a long time we just… didn't notice. Little things like… forgetting our names and mixing up who was who…”

“That would have been around the same time as your injury, right?” Donnie asked, “I mean, I can only estimate given how much you’ve healed.”

“Yeah, right after it.” Leonardo took a shaky breath.

“That must have been… difficult to handle?”

“Raph… struggled a lot.” Leonardo’s voice began to waver, “I… let’s just say I was MIA for a while. I… wasn’t there when… But he got through it. We’ll get through this too. Always do.”

“You have access to doctor's, don’t you?” Donnie said, “Neurologists, geriatricians, physicians?”

Leonardo nodded, “All of those. And I’ve been looking into palliative care, but it’s… hard to find all this stuff in the Hidden City. Yokai illness and human aren’t the same and… and dad’s isn’t either of those.”

“It sounds like you’re doing everything right to me.” Donnie assured.

“Try telling that to Raph! I told him that we needed a nurse to help us stay on top of this whole thing, and he nearly blew a gasket. He’s too proud to admit that we need help.”

“Pride is a dangerous thing.” Donnie agreed, “How can I help?”

“No.” Leonardo shook his head, “This is personal business. You don’t need to get involved.”

“Leon.” Donnie’s voice dripped with venom.

“D-don’t you do it.”

“Leon.” Donnie leaned closer to Leonardo, his eyes wide and slitted as he hissed out the words in a slow voice, “How... can I... help…?”

“You can start by not looking at me like that!” Leonardo shoved Donnie away and shivered.

Donnie blinked and his eyes were back to normal. “You’re not in this alone, Leon, and I won’t let you think that you are. Just know that.”

#what’s up with Yoshi?#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #bay turtles #beyond the bay

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imaginepirates · 5 years

Text

Okay

For @long-cosmos-overhead. The reader gets hurt in a fight on the Pearl. They are later taken care of by Jack, and we get some cuddles at the end.

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands

~2850 words

~~~~~~~

It stung. You didn't dare look down, afraid of how much blood you might be losing. You could feel the stickiness through your fingers. Your hands rested on the area, moving up and down with your breaths. You wheezed slightly; oh god it hurt.

Typically, the Pearl never engaged with other ships. She hadn't had a chance this time, cornered by a looming Spanish galleon off the coast of Cuba. The fight was a bloody one, and neither side seemed to be winning.

You'd been fighting alongside your crewmen when someone stabbed you. It wasn't the person you were fighting, but another sailor passing by.

You were slouched under the stairs, watching the fight play out from between wooden slats. You'd managed to drag yourself there through a fit of pain. You needed a good hiding spot; out in the open, someone might have finished you off.

You tilted your head back against the wall and focused on taking normal breaths. You stared out between your lashes, view obscured by watery eyes.

Tears slipped down your face, leaving it a mess of red streaks. At this rate, nobody was going to find you before the battle was over, and by then it would be too late. You risked a glance down. Blood soaked through your shirt and had trailed as far down as your upper thigh. It had oozed out over your fingers and dyed you skin bright crimson.

It was unfair, you thought, that someone had cut you down from where you couldn't see them. In times gone by, there was a bit of a moral code about such things. Only hurt the people you're fighting face to face. It was the honorable thing to do.

The world had long since passed out of the times of honor, letting itself fall into times of general nastiness.

It would be better to just close your eyes and let yourself slip away, but the battle raged on before you, and you continued to watch.

Some of the crew were generally proficient with cutlasses and muskets. Still, the crew was relying mainly on incredible strokes of luck. It seemed like you did that often. You were so rarely fighting other people, or at least regular ones, that you employed some…interesting tactics.

There was something to be said for creativity. No matter how well-trained a soldier was, he was never prepared for a cask of rum bowling toward him during a fight. A mop to the face was distracting as well.

It was ridiculous. The things you were able to pull off, by all rights, were stupid and seemingly useless. But for you, they worked.

It was part of life on the Pearl. With Jack around, anything was possible. You often wondered about the man. He was a close friend, but a total mystery. There were so many things about him that you longed to know.

You'd never be able to find out. Your eyes were fluttering closed, now, the battle a haze and the noise of clashing metal dull in your ears. It was like being dunked underwater. Everything was fuzzy and out of focus.

~~~

You woke somewhere else, on a mattress, a pillow beneath your head. You barely tried moving. Stretching your legs was the extent of what your tired body wanted to do. Even that hurt; it sent a jolting pain through your body.

It came back to you all at once. You'd only had hazy memories, bleary recollections of what had happened. Now, it returned to you with vivid detail.

Slowly, you moved your arms to your stomach. There was a bandage there, covering your abdomen. It was fresh. You hoped someone had cleaned the room.

You were now capable of clearer thought. The fact that you were on a bed, being taken care of, hinted to your winning the fight. If the Pearl hadn't won, you would likely have been left for dead.

It was a joyous thought, but it still left you alone in a bed. You wondered when someone would come in and check on you. You didn't fancy waiting for too long, just in case you fell asleep again.

You stared at the wall for a while, letting your mind wander. How many of the crew had survived? Was Jack alright? Gibbs? These men and women were your friends, your family. The entire group was close. Losing any one of them would break your heart.

Jack. You realized with alacrity that you were in his bed. There was no other bed on the ship, except for in the sickbay, but you wouldn't be alone if you were there.

You'd been inside Jack's cabin a few times before, but the visits were few and far between. Mostly, he kept his space to himself. It was a goodly size with a large desk at one end. The bed was against one wall. Its crimson sheets were too big, and they spilled onto the floor. A map lie sprawled across the desk. There were little markings all over it, and a knife pinned it in place. Not exactly Jack's style, but it wasn't unusual.

The bottles were his style. They filled the space; they sat on shelves, the desk, the floor, a chair, and one rested just against your foot. If you could move better, you might have checked it for liquid. You could use a drink.

A sliver of light fell across your face, and you instinctively shielded your eyes with your hands. Bad move. Your torso decided it was time to throw a fit, being as painful as possible.

The light disappeared as soon as it came. In the dark, you could just make out the figure of Gibbs. Other than a shallow gash on the forehead, he looked fine.

"You're awake!" He exclaimed. "By gods, you had us scared. Deep cut like that can kill a man."

"I'm not a man," you said weakly.

He laughed. "Still yourself, then. The Cap'n 'll be glad to hear."

"Water?" You croaked.

"Ah, yes, we have some here somewhere." He fished around in the dark, trying to find the pitcher you knew was on the chair.

You were frightfully close to falling asleep again. You wished Gibbs would hurry up. Drinking would rouse you, and a good splash in the face couldn't hurt.

The water was refreshing. You gulped it down, and though it hurt, you couldn't help yourself. Your throat was painfully dry. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd last been awake. When had you drank last? Hours ago? Days?

"How long have I been out?" You asked.

"Almost two days."

"Two days?" It was more an exclamation than a question. "Where has Jack been sleeping?"

"In the chair at his desk."

You supposed you shouldn't be surprised. You and Jack had been friends for a long time, so he had every reason to worry about you. Still, you felt badly that he was sleeping in a chair.

"How is everyone?"

"We're doing fine. Other than bumps and scratches, of course. You got the worst of it." Gibbs looked you over. He pulled aside your blankets to look at your bandage.

It dawned on you that you didn't know who was changing it. "Who's been taking care of me, cleaning me up, changing my bandages?"

"That would be Jack, lass." He winked.

You didn't know what to make of it. Surely it wasn't odd to have him do it, but the thought was a little uncomfortable. That he'd been the person to reach under your shirt and patch you up…

Not knowing what to say, you stayed silent. There was the soft clink of glass against glass as Gibbs poured you more water. The pain in your side had dulled to an ache. This, unfortunately, let you focus on the awkwardness of the situation.

You took a long sip of water and thought about how long it would take to get up and moving again. You'd have to stay in Jack's room for a long time. It hadn't been so bad when you were asleep, but with the knowledge of where you actually were, you felt embarrassed. You had a good idea of the rumors that could start.

"How long will it take for me to walk again?"

"It could take weeks. Two, most likely."

Oh dear. If Jack slept in the chair that long, he'd get moody. Not to mention, sleeping in the same room with him felt a little improper. Not that you'd ever cared about propriety.

Why did it feel so odd? You slept around men all the time. All the crew's hammocks were in the same spot. You were one of the few females, and you were surrounded by men every day.

When it came to sleeping around Jack, there was a little fluttering sensation in your chest. You told yourself it was hardly different than sleeping around any other man, but it didn't feel that way to you.

A small space at the back of your brain told you it was because you didn't feel the same about other men as you did about Jack. Other men were other men, and Jack was Jack. He was special to you, more important, closer to you. It made your feelings for him stronger.

Every time this part of your brain turned on, you promptly shut it off and hoped it would disappear. Of course Jack was special to you, but thinking like that might lead to the wrong things. To thinking about deeper feelings you didn't want to acknowledge. To actual, raw feelings you convinced yourself you didn't have.

Gibbs left, and you hated the thought of waiting for company. It could be hours before someone decided to talk to you.

It wasn't. First, Anamaria came barging in, checking to see that her fellow woman was okay. Members of the crew filed in after her, taking turns talking with you. You were glad to see all your friends cared, but it was a little overwhelming. You talked so much that you hardly remembered eating lunch or dinner.

It was as you were getting drowsy again that Jack stepped in. He looked worn; the bags under his eyes were deeper than usual, and he moved with an uncharacteristic slowness. He slumped into his chair before looking at you.

Despite his exhausted demeanor, he still had a spark in his eyes. They were focused on you.

"Jack, are you okay?"

"Love, I don't think you have the right to be asking." A smirk returned to his face, and though it looked tired, it was there.

"But you look awful!"

"I'm not the one lying abed with a stab wound."

He had a point. "Alright, but at least I've been sleeping. You don't look like you've gotten any rest."

"There's no need to worry about me, love."

"I can at least share the bed." It was out of your mouth before you had even thought about what you were saying. A blush crept up your cheeks, and you hoped Jack wouldn't see it in the dim light.

The look of surprise on his face was quickly hidden when he took a long sip of rum. Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm not sure that would be a good idea, what with your wound and all." He wiggled a finger in the general direction of your stomach.

No matter how nonchalant he was trying to sound, he was failing.

"You aren't getting any rest," you argued weakly. You weren't sure if you wanted him to sleep with you or not.

He sighed. "I haven't been sleeping for more reasons than just that, love."

Your heart rate spiked. "What do you mean?"

"I- I worried about you."

Verbally showing that he cared had never been one of Jack's strong suits. He had a hard time admitting when he was afraid for someone, or if he even genuinely liked them. It meant a lot to you that he talked about worrying about you.

"I'm alright," you assured him. "You don't need to worry anymore."

"Right." He scratched the back of his neck.

"That chair can't be comfortable."

"Thank you for reminding me." He grimaced.

An awkward silence ensued. You suspected that no matter how uncomfortable the chair was, he would stay in it. You idly tapped your fingers against the blankets. Two weeks of this tension. Two weeks. You hoped things would feel normal again quickly. Maybe they would move you once you started feeling better, and you and Jack could go back to joking and drinking with each other.

To your surprise, Jack rose out of the chair. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed. His hands moved to take off his shoes, and you had the feeling he was stalling for time.

Once his shoes were off, he turned to you, raising an eyebrow. You smiled softly, trying to assure him that you were fine with sharing the space. The bed was too big for one person, anyway.

He stretched his legs out on the bed and laid down on his back. He stared at the ceiling instead of looking at you.

You needed to break the silence. It was killing you. "What happened to the Spanish ship?" You asked.

"Mmn?" He stretched, raising his arms above his head. "It went its own way."

"No treasure?"

"No."

"You seem to get us into lots of trouble. And there's very little compensation," you teased.

He turned to you, pouting. "That's not my fault."

"I'm sure it isn't."

"Trust me, love, I like treasure as much as the next man."

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, Jack." Perhaps it was unfair to use his own quote against him.

He grunted, returning his gaze to the ceiling. You moved your hand so it was brushing his. He didn't look at you, but you saw his eyes go a little wider. Gently, you wrapped your fingers around his.

He shifted onto his side to face you, but kept your hand firmly in his grasp. The other hand hovered, not quite sure where to rest itself. It finally decided on the sheets between you.

You were unsure of what to say, so you didn't say anything at all, letting the silence settle between you.

"Are you okay?" Jack's voice was more sullen than usual.

"I am now. I was afraid of dying back then, but I figure that by now, I've made it through the worst."

"I hope so, love." He moved closer, trailing a hand through your hair. He played with a lock, rolling it between his fingers.

"The wound isn't so bad, now." You looked at his fingers and how they weaved through your hair. "Thank you. For taking care of me the whole time."

He said nothing, but continued to run his hands through your hair. He laid on his back again. This time, you rested your head against his chest. The closeness felt nice. This way, there wasn't a need to talk.

For a long time, you lay there, soaking in each other's company. You traced little patterns in the fabric of his shirt with a finger. He had an arm under you, holding you close.

Your fingers found the spot in his shoulder where bullets had passed through. It was true that he'd had near-death experiences. You wondered if you'd had one, too. "Jack, how close did I come to dying?"

"Close."

"Oh."

"It's part of the job, love." You could tell his heart wasn't in the statement. "Have you ever considered anything else?"

"Why would I?"

"Piracy is dangerous. More than you know. I've been doing this longer than you have, and I've seen things."

"I know the risk well enough, Jack." You had just been stabbed.

"You could live in a cottage somewhere. Do something else. Be safe."

"The world is a dangerous place. Nobody's really safe anywhere."

He looked at you with sad eyes. "You could be safer."

"Jack, please. I'd rather live a fast life, one with strong relationships, adventure, and good times. Safety doesn't mean happiness. We both know this.

"I've had the time of my life here, on the Pearl. With you and the rest of the crew. As a kid, it was all I ever wanted. I wanted to go on adventures and meet new people, and I have. It's still what I want. I wouldn't trade this life for safety. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Jack held you a little closer. "You're still stubborn." Even if you couldn't see it due to how you were laying on him, you could hear the smile in his voice.

"It's not such a bad thing, is it?"

"Not particularly, love."

"Good. Because I'm fully intent on staying right here." You were. No injury, no experience, and certainly no person would keep you away. Which was just as well. You couldn't go anywhere for the moment, anyway.

You drifted off to sleep, thinking of how the next two weeks might not actually be so bad.

#x reader #potc #pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow x reader #jack sparrow #captain jack sparrow #writing #drabble #request

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alloveroliver · 4 years

Text

Oliver x MC |Alice| “In A Perfect World You’re Happy With Me.”

Mature Fluff: Oliver Knight

A|N: Use of Alcohol, Memory loss/Blackout, Adult themed non-explicit, Oliver’s POV.

WC: 3,100+

Ikemen Revolution Fanfic

• · . · ´ ` · . ·•· . · ´ ` · . ·•· . · ´ ` · . ·•· . · ´ ` · . · •

Yawning, Oliver roused from a deep sleep. A piercing tone grew louder between his ears. He winced at the roaring tune. Throbbing ensued behind his eyes as he endeavored to pry them open. His eyelids were glued shut, heavy from his slumber.

Stretching longways, he became rapidly confused. Oliver’s body was encased in an unfamiliar embrace. His mind raced to comprehend his predicament. His hand twitched, revealing that his fingers were interlocked with another.

A gentle warmth radiated into his palm that soothed his heart from racing out of his chest. ‘What am I holding?’ Oliver’s curiosity bounced around inside his pulsating head.

His full consciousness was slow to understand the situation. His muscles ached, and he felt as if he were waking up from being injected with an elephant tranquilizer. Delayed acknowledgment that these were fingers intertwined with his baffled him further. The hand was warm and soft, and far smaller than his own.

Oliver tried to move too fast, and his head swam. He groaned and laid his head back on the warm spot. His stomach gurgled, and he was fully confident he was still drunk from the pub last night.

He racked his mind trying to remember anything from the evening before. He recalled meeting Kyle early on in the evening and catching up with several other people throughout the night. Blanc had escorted Alice to their meet up and introduced her to some of the other officers. Evidently, he blacked out last night. His memory was vacant of any of the other evening’s proceedings.

Oliver struggled to open his dry eyes yet again. He blinked rapidly into the dark until he was able to hold them open. It was still night time. He knew this by his tall stature and simply the lack of sunlight filling the room. He focused on his bedroom window, eyeing the silvery moon that peaked over the slit in the curtain.

In his confusion, he still sighed with a bit of relief being in a familiar environment. Adding pressure with his forehead to where his head lay, he mustered his mind to awaken further. The scent he inhaled was only mildly familiar. Rose scented soap with a thick layer of fermented beer and cigarette smoke. He recognized the smell of the bar, but not the underlying floral aromas.

He let his eyes close for a moment, allowing a dizzy spell pass before he tried moving again. His hand twitched in the one he was holding.

‘Who was this?’ He idly wondered.

A drunken night with a one night stand, he was sure. However, it was very unlike him to take someone back to his home. In fact, he’d never even stayed the night with any of his meetups at the bar and kept it strictly to their home only. What was different about this time? He moved his jaw around as he pondered while trying to swallow over his dry tongue.

The skin against his cheek was warm and inviting. He shifted his weight realizing his state of undress. All of his clothes were forsaken, leaving him with nothing but the blanket that set atop them.

He rolled his eyes at his inebriated choices. His only saving grace was that he woke up before this person did, saving him the embarrassment of his transformation. Oliver wanted to kick himself. He wondered how he could be so careless, especially with the type of curse he had.

Oliver pushed his toes into the mattress and moved his body upward. He prepared to roll over when golden hair came into view. He froze, wide-eyed at the sight. Heat began to arise on his cheeks, tingeing his face all the way up to his ears in red. It was a strange feeling. It was as if his subconscious knew who this is and was elated to see this person again.

He took a beat, letting his mind race to find the answer. ‘This looks like... Alice’s hair.’ Oliver’s stomach dropped at his first thought.

Licking his lips with a dry tongue, he eased his nude body off of hers, yet stopped when another woozy moment came over him. The room swirled around him with break-neck speeds.

Putting his head on her shoulder, he allowed the spinning to subside before trying to move again. Oliver knew she was naked. He could feel her bare skin against his now. Hoping he wasn’t crushing her, he slid to the side. Letting go of her hand, her arm slipped off the bed in a lackadaisical fashion. Cautiously, he lifted his head sufficiently to see who it was.

It was Alice.

‘Shit.’ Oliver huffed, squeezing his eyes closed. He reopened them and took a second look at her peaceful face to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

‘No! What the hell is wrong with you!’ He screamed at himself inside his own head.

What was she doing here? Why did he allow her to be here? How did it get to this point in the first place? Oliver’s eyes searched her face as if her sleeping form could tell him anything.

Probing his mind, he searched for any memory of the night. A fuzzy picture came into the forefront of his thoughts. Once Blanc introduced Alice around, he’d left her in Oliver and Kyle’s care to excuse himself and speak with others. Kyle then boasted that Oliver could drink anyone under the table. Oliver’s ego inflated, and he let one too many shots past his lips in order to- ‘...what? impress her?’

Oliver’s eyes moved to her lips, obviously just as swollen as his felt. Her hair was tousled beautifully on his pillow, spilling golden strands all over the silky sheets.

Alice, his friend, the girl he promised to keep safe, the very girl he just met, lay solidly asleep beneath him. They were friendly, always keeping everything platonic between them. They had an agreement he would help her get back to her world the second that the full moon came up

He eyed her neck, seeing the red marks he knew he was responsible for. Three hickeys in a line going up towards her ear. Oliver cursed under his breath, begging his body to keep moving off of her.

He pushed off to the side, only realizing her arm was in the way. In an effort to not squish her delicate limb, he moved back awkwardly. Rolling his eyes at his ongoing inebriation another dizzy spell roared to life between his brows.

‘Just don’t look at her.’ He coaxed himself.

He decided to sit up slowly, moving back on his knees that already resided between her legs. His heart skipped a beat as her body came into view bathed in silver moonlight. He willed his eyes to look away, but he could hardly believe the scene in front of him.

How could he have forgotten what happened? With her, with Alice. The alcohol left a blank space in his memory, and he prodded at the recess, trying to remember something, anything. It was still possible they didn’t have sex, he could have fallen asleep before anything went too far.

He sighed at the comforting thought of the possibility of not deflowering her, tugging the blanket from his back and laying it over her form. However, when he shifted back, the telltale wet spot from a long evening of lovemaking stained the sheets right between her legs.

He hung his head, full of disappointment in himself. ‘God dammit…’

After raking his fingers roughly through his hair, Oliver sat up and dropped the rest of the covers over her. As he processed the situation, his heart took off in a runaway beat that only a fool would allow himself to feel.

He shifted backward weakly, pausing only for the room to stop spinning. Oliver moved to the floor onto wobbly legs. His muscles were exhausted as budding soreness began to touch his joints. He wanted to slap himself for what transpired, wondering how he could have let this happen, or how could she have allowed him to do this to her.

Holding onto the end of the bed as he stood, Oliver wondered if she would have no memory of this evening either. He hoped, so badly, that she would have a blank space in her mind as well.

His stomach rolled as he put one foot in front of the other. He would sleep in the guest room for the remainder of the night. Regret ebbed at his psyche. He wished they could have come together sober and naturally. Sharing a memorable first kiss and holding hands and- ‘Oh, what am I thinking.’ He ground his teeth in frustration.

They were friends, and they would remain friends until she left his world and returned to hers. Waking up in her embrace, the image of her naked and sleeping together. He promised himself that this night would be a distant memory soon enough.

Oliver looked on the floor for his clothes. He pushed her skirt and blouse aside, finding his pants and button-up shirt and snagging them abruptly. He wished he was well enough to pick up all of their clothes off the floor, but his head spun again, warning him not to bend down another time.

He kicked his jacked under the bed as he walked out of the room. He used all his strength to not look back at Alice’s sleeping form after hearing her sigh and turn over behind him.

He clicked his bedroom door shut behind him almost silently, then walked down the hall with clothes in hand. Alice would figure it out in the morning, even someone with half a brain cell could figure it out.

He refrained from shaking his head again to keep the world from spinning past him as he entered the guest room. He put his pants on awkwardly, then slid the dress shirt on without buttoning anything, and flopped onto the bed.

His magic would transform the clothes he wore by morning so he could look decent at least. His teeth grit together in a lock position as he stared out of the unfamiliar window.

‘What a big fucking mess…I’m the idiot this time.’ Was his last thought before sleep took him once again.

What seemed like a split second later, the sun poured into the window and coaxed his heavy lids open. Oliver’s temples throbbed as he tried sitting up. He rubbed his eyes with his smaller hands, wiping away the sleep.

Sitting on the end of the bed, feet dangling, he didn’t know how long he had been staring at the wall. The sound of his shower running jerked him out of a daze. She was up already.

He used his hands to slowly button up his shirt, brushing his fingers through his hair in order to tame the unruly strands. He tried moving his thoughts to breakfast, but the running water roared in his mind. He knew Alice probably woke up just as confused as he had been, except alone in a bedroom she’s never seen before.

It was easy to discern whos room it was, but that’s beside the point. Guilt festered in Oliver's mind the longer he sat in the empty guest room. Pushing himself off the bed, he headed for the door. If anything, he needed water and a lot of it.

He finished making tea, sat with his newspaper, and picked at a chocolate chip muffin. The shower had long since shut off. Oliver tapped his foot against the chair, waiting for her to enter the breakfast nook any time now.

He stared at the words on the page, not reading a single letter as his ears perked up, hearing footsteps down the hall. The feeling of taking off in a full sprint seemed tempting, but he pushed past it and stared at the large paper until her arrival.

“Mornin’” Her voice was raspy as she shuffled her feet into one of the dining chairs.

“So, It’s not a ‘Good’ morning?” His voice seemed lower than he was used to, with a slight tremble he tried to hide.

He didn’t look away from the newspaper but watched in his peripheral as she poured herself some tea.

“It’s not that great. I woke up in a room that wasn’t mine with a massive hangover. I was relieved to find it was your room.” She blew on the hot tea before sipping.

Oliver grasped the pages, crinkling the corners of the paper.

“Why would you be relieved it was my room.” He spoke in a level tone, never looking directly at her.

“‘Cuz, if I were in a totally unfamiliar place, I would have freaked out.” She shrugged, pushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “Your hats lining the closet are insanely organized by the way.” She chuckled.

‘Would she still be relieved to know what we actually did.’ Oliver shook his head, trying to erase his inner thoughts.

Stealing a look, he noticed her hair pulled to one side exposed the massive hickies he bestowed upon her. His eyes were fixated on the physical proof of his affections toward her. She had to have seen them, right? Was she able to piece the evening together with less information than he had?

“Good morning, you two lovebirds!” Blanc’s voice rang out over the breakfast table, alarming both hungover parties.

“Love birds?” She scrunched her forehead. She looked over at Oliver, who still refused to meet her gaze.

“Parish, you old man. We don’t know what you’re talking about, and besides-” Oliver stood far too quickly for his head to catch up. He ignored the dizzy spell, clutching the side of the table to hold himself up, and proceeded. “I have so much work to do today. I don’t even know where to start.” He sat his newspaper down on the table and left his plate and cup behind.

“I’ll be in my garage, but don’t disturb me unless it’s an emergency.” He walked towards the doorway and looked back and Blanc’s worried face. “Also, call her a carriage that can take her home. There’s no need for her to stay here.”

He had no work for today, that’s why he allowed himself to go out last night. His lack of responsibility today made it the perfect evening to let loose.

Without a second look at her, he barged out of the room. Almost quick-stepping as soon as he saw the front door. He held back the full sprint he wanted to take to his garage and forced himself to walk slow.

Slamming the door to his workshop, he shut off the bright lights and closed the curtains.

‘She’s going to figure it out, and she’s going to hate me.’ He cursed himself, sitting in his desk chair. He made himself busy with a creative project, tinkering with his old pocket watch that died months ago. The focus he held regarding the new fixation almost drown out the sound of the light knock to the garage door.

He dropped his tool to the workbench and waited to hear the sound again. Another light knock roused him from where he sat. Walking towards the door, he pulled gently at his collar.

“Yes?” He swung the door open. He spotted her golden strands wafting in the wind before seeing her expression. “Alice?! What do you want?” He sounded angry to see her, but he didn’t want to correct his tone. Building a wall between them was far more beneficial for her than him being nice. At least, that's how he rationalized it.

Her smile faded to a shy lip bite as worry painted her brow. She took a deep breath and stared down at the grass under her shoe. “Um,” Her cheeks burned hot, and Oliver wanted to slam the door and pretend like none of this ever happened. He knew she knew. There was now no use in denying that.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he croaked out an apology. “I’m sorry for last night. You deserve better.”

“What? No-” Alice reached out for him, but he took a step back.

“I mean it.”

“I wasn’t looking for an apology.” She chimed.

“Oh? Well, you got one.” Oliver grumbled, holding the door in front of his face, keeping a barricade between them at all times.

“Do you remember it? Any of it?” Alice’s brows scrunched as she looked over at him. Her shy expression changed to an apologetic frown.

“I- No, I don’t.” He messed with the button of his sleeve as the wind blew a gentle breeze into his workshop.

“You asked me out on a date tonight.” Her sing-song voice carried over to him on the tail end of the wind.

“Huh!?” She gained his full attention, and his wide eyes bore into hers with disbelief.

Alice swallowed thickly and looked around absently. “I was just wondering… if we are still on. You said you wanted to take me to the new restaurant off the main road... They serve breakfast for dinner.”

The silence stretched between them while Oliver tried to process the events that were unfolding. “Would you still want to go, even if I told you I don’t remember asking?”

Alice nodded her head yes, and let out a nervous laugh. “It’s okay if you don’t want to anymore. I just… I’m sorry you don’t remember anything.”

He pondered that for a long moment. Did he want to? In his drunken stooper, he ended up asking her out on a proper date, and she’d agreed to it. All this even after asking if he remembered or not. She could have played it off and went home without saying anything.

“We can go. But don’t expect me to drink anytime soon. This hangover is killing me…” He tried to make his voice sound confident but failed miserably.

She beamed a smile at him. “It’s a date then!”

Oliver’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Is this really happening?’ He took a step toward her in good faith.

“It’s a date.” He blurted out.

“Pick me up at seven?”

“Seven? Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people that eats dinner at 8. That’s when you should be heading to sleep.” He teased, fixing his typical smirk atop his lips.

“Fine, six.” She shot back and turned on her heel.

“I’ll be there at 5:30.” He called out behind her.

Slamming the door, he looked at his hands with bewilderment.

Now how was he supposed to just let her walk back through the looking glass in the next few weeks and forget about her?

‘You idiot.’ He shook his head. The situation wasn’t as simple to shake off than he thought just hours ago. But truthfully, the events that unfolded didn’t upset him in the slightest.

Thanks for reading!

This was an abandoned WIP from about 8 months ago that I was worried to post. Mostly due to alcohol themes and the appearance of smoliver. I decided to reread it and had the urge to edit it. It came out so cute, and I just wanted to share this story I wrote for myself with yall. Anywho, despite all that I hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist is at the top of my blog~

#ikemen revolution #Oliver knight #oliver x mc #oliver knight fluff #ikerev #ikerev fluff #ikerev oliver

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puddygeeks · 4 years

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Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 33: Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Bʏ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ

Masterlist

Episodes: Human Trials, Fog Of War

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Once Monty and the President left, someone wheeled in a suitcase and placed it in front of me. They opened it to reveal several outfits, pairs of shoes and items of jewellery, then left without a single word. I stared at the contents of the case in wonder, I’d never seen clothing like this. Everything felt soft and clean, and was made of fabric that was delicate to the touch. There were two pairs of high heels that I couldn’t imagine how you were supposed to walk in and a pair of simple brogues. Everything I’d been supplied with was painfully feminine and I felt uncomfortable at the idea of wearing most of it. I brushed my fingers along the outfit options; a white chiffon blouse and floaty blue skirt, a while floaty dress with sunflowers on or a black dress. I pulled out the black dress to examine it closer, deciding that it seemed the most modest of the options. It had buttons down the centre with delicate little straps and the skirt was knee length. It had tiny white flowers patterned all over it but it was much less noticeable than the sunflowers on the other dress and I’d never really been comfortable wearing white. I slid the dress on carefully with a deep fear of damaging the material and buttoned it up. I flipped open a compartment under the hanging jewellery to find a hair brush and a mirror on the reverse. I brushed my hair for the first time in longer than I could remember, taking a while to get through all of the knots and damage. Once done I viewed myself in the mirror and paused in shock. It felt like I didn’t recognise myself.

Although I never considered myself particularly attractive, the person that stared back at me aged ten years since we left the Ark. The deep circles under my eyes revealed an exhaustion that could only come from months of sleep deprivation, my skin was dull and washed out causing me to look paler than usual. My face was thinner from the struggle for food causing my cheekbones to protrude more than they ever did naturally. There was still some light bruising on various parts of my face with grazes scattered about and the large, ugly scar which tore through my left eyebrow. My eyes were glazed over in a lifeless manner and when I stared into them, I couldn’t feel anything. I assessed myself in the dress with my bandages clearly revealed and felt uncomfortable. I had never felt any desire to be feminine and the clothes felt wrong on me. I couldn’t help wondering what Bellamy would think if he could see me now and had to quickly force the thought from my mind as my eyes filled with tears. I was reaching out to take the brogues, the lesser of the three evil pairs of shoes, when Monty entered the room. He took a few steps in, saw me and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Wow, you look so pretty.” He breathed as he studied me with a shocked expression. I squirmed awkwardly on the spot and felt that I would quite like the ground to swallow me under his assessing gaze.

“Thanks, I hate it.” I replied in a gruff voice and he chuckled in amusement. He shook himself from his surprise and strolled over to the bed to take a seat just behind me.

“I thought you might, so I collected these from their stores.” He handed me a pair of battered, old lace up black leather boots and a pair of thick socks. I took them from him with a smile and sat beside him to put them on. When I finished lacing them I glanced over to him and realised that he was surveying my wrists nervously. I sighed as I steeled myself to the idea that everyone would look at the heavy bandaging when I got to the communal area and couldn’t contain the feeling that I was exposed. “I know this is a difficult process for you. I know that you’re hurting so I pulled a few strings. I want to make this as easy for you as I can.” Monty started to explain as he fidgeted to grasp something that he’d been hiding behind his back. “Jasper mentioned that this helped you a lot during the night in the dropship and that you asked for it. It had to go through some serious decontamination protocols, but it’s still his…”

He held something out to me and as I took the black fabric in my hands, my heart flipped. I ran my fingers over the details exactly as I had during the night when I was last wrapped in it to reassure myself but I knew immediately that it was Bellamy’s jacket. I gripped it tightly to my chest as the tears came thick and fast. Monty pondered me in anguish and placed an arm around my shoulders to guide me into him. He sat in a calm silence and allowed me all of the time that I needed to regain control of myself. I dried my face and slid the jacked on gently. It was so oversized on me that I could overlap the front and I pulled it tight around me in the hope that I might fool my brain into thinking that Bellamy was holding me.

The jacket smelt unnaturally clean and I was crestfallen to find that it no longer smelt of him. I tried not to allow the disappointment to show on my face, appreciative that Monty had gone to such lengths to get it back for me. I tried to remind myself of what Monty had said when he presented it to me; that no matter what had been done to the jacket, it was still Bellamy’s and it connected me to him. I opened my eyes to see Monty observing my reaction closely and I smiled earnestly at him.

“Thank you.” I whispered gratefully and he smiled in return. I stood with a slightly nervous shake in my legs still but I felt much more comfortable with my arms covered and followed him from the room. He led me to an elevator and I waited nervously as it transported us away from the horrors of the white room. He examined me as I fiddled with my hands and I was overwhelmed with anxiety, unsure if I was ready to face the survivors of our camp.

“They’re all going to be so pleased to see you.” He smiled warmly as he tapped my arm to catch my eyes and I nodded in acknowledgement as I took a deep breath. We walked through several more sets of doors before we finally turned into a room filled with bunk beds and familiar faces. As we entered people quickly gathered around us with excited smiles.

“Hey, it’s Indigo!” A voice called from the back and several people reached out to touch me. I felt suffocated by the attention and tried to step back to gain some space. Before I could, Jasper burst through the crowd and threw his arms around me dramatically. I was taken aback by his reaction as I stumbled under the force of his embrace and I peeked over his shoulder to see Monty chuckling at the sight of us.

“I’m sorry.” Jasper breathed in my ear, then stepped back to view me with apologetic eyes. “I shouldn’t have said what I did, it was selfish and cruel. The last thing I ever wanted to do is make your suffering worse and-” He rambled and I quickly held a hand up to stop him.

“It’s okay Jasper, we’re good.” I stated with a smile and I could easily identify that he was holding back tears as I squeezed his arm fondly. I scanned the small crowd that had gathered and managed to pick out a few faces that I knew: Miller, Fox, Harper. I breezed through the rest but most were people that I recognised but didn't really know. I couldn’t help the invasive image of the Blake’s bursting through to pull me into a hug from filling my mind and it caused a pang in my chest. As I considered those that I would like to see I realised that another face was missing. “Raven?” I asked as I looked to Jasper for answers. He cleared his throat and looked at me with a pained expression.

“Sorry Indie, she didn’t make it.” He confirmed and my face fell at his words as I fought not to tear up again. It seemed that there was hardly anyone left that I considered family and I felt a surge of appreciation that I still had the two boys that watched me fondly as I thought. It was clear that Monty was able to sense my upset, as he leaned around to catch my eye.

“You know we were about to leave for dinner, how about you get a taste of the food that Jasper won’t stop raving about?” He suggested in a playful tone and I forced a smile.

I sat in the lunch hall with the boys and surveyed the others that filled the tables around us. Everyone was very smartly dressed and I was the only person who didn’t seem to fit. I adjusted the jacket, needing to feel it’s comfort as I observed the others smiling and chatting in a carefree manner. Although I was happy to witness the sight of everyone clean and well-fed, it was strangely jarring compared to how I was used to seeing them and I couldn’t help feeling the strange sense that it wasn’t real. Jasper set a plate of food in front of me and although I felt absolutely no hunger, I forced myself to try some as he waited eagerly for my reaction. As the food passed my lips my eyes fluttered closed and I leaned back in surprise. I opened them again to find Jasper and Monty watching me with smug expressions. I chewed the food slowly, savouring every flavour and it only heightened the feeling that this couldn’t possibly be real.

“Okay, you weren’t kidding! This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” I admitted and Jasper broke into a wide smile.

“Wait until you taste the cake.” He answered coyly and I laughed.

***

It was a long and stressful night even in the room surrounded by my campmates. Jasper and Monty protectively ensured that I was on a bunk bed with one of them above and the other beside me. Although I felt safer surrounded by them, I still awoke frequently from nightmares that made me too afraid to sleep. I ate breakfast with them in a dazed, exhausted state and despite the food continuing it’s incredible standard, I couldn’t find the same joy in it as they did. I attended the medical bay as promised where a doctor dutifully cleaned my wrists and applied fresh dressings. When I returned to the dorms I was startled to find that no one was there and rushed in a stressed jog to the recreation area. Most of our group was there and I wandered through in search of the boys. By the time I’d checked the whole room with no success I started to get panicked. I turned sharply on the spot to storm back into the hall when Harper stepped into my path.

“Hey Indigo, are you alright? You look nervous?” She enquired as she assessed my frantic behaviour in concern.

“I’m fine.” I snapped impatiently as I tired of the babysitting attitude of those around me. “Have you seen Jasper and Monty?” I examined over her shoulder as I spoke and could already feel my mind considering where else I could search for them.

“Oh. No, I think they were called to help out with something.” She shrugged in a casual manner that prickled me. “I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Why don’t you wait with us?” She smiled encouragingly and I was confused by how relaxed she was. I reluctantly took a seat with her and several other girls who were settled in a small circle.

I listened to their inane chatter but didn’t add anything to the conversation, instead watching the door obsessively for any sign of the boys returning. It seemed that everyone had adjusted to the safety of the bunker as I reflected on how differently we would have reacted if we couldn’t find someone back in camp. Fox bought over a cup of tea with a smile and set it down beside me before taking a seat in the group.

“It’s real tea like everything here. I know Monty mentioned that you missed it from the Ark.” She smiled warmly and a couple of the others turned their attention to me too. “It’s really great to have you back Indigo, especially with Clarke gone now too...we’re pretty much out of all our original leaders. You did a lot for us back in camp. It helps to know you’re still with us.” She stated with a thankful tone to her voice.

I shifted awkwardly in my seat as I felt the eyes of everyone in the small social circle now on me. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention; I’d grown comfortable with being the dangerous outsider in the Skybox and even the unpredictable, wild one in camp. The reality of people fussing over me now was unsettling.

“How are you really holding up? I know it’s been a difficult adjustment without…” Harper began to speak but trailed off and turned her face away awkwardly.

“I told you I’m fine.” I muttered as I sipped the tea and wished they’d stop viewing me as if I might shatter at any moment. “I’m no leader, never have been. I did what I did for my loved ones, and now they’re gone.” I added as I stared down at the teacup in an effort to keep my voice calm and measured. I could sense the pitying looks from those surrounding me and couldn’t stand to regard them. I heard a loud scoff from behind the group and peeked up to find Del perceiving me with a disbelieving smirk.

“You’re not really buying into this bullshit sob story, are you?” He drawled causing the girls to glare over their shoulders at him in annoyance.

“You got something to say to me Del?” I growled with a fury that began to build from my stomach and I felt myself holding the teacup with an unnecessarily tight grip. Del stood with an arrogant stance. He scrutinised me with a sadistic smile as he stepped slightly closer but remained separated from me by the ring of girls.

“This whole broken-hearted act is bullshit. You want everyone to feel sorry for you and its working; look at you, surrounded by people who didn’t give a shit about you before you cut yourself up. You’re telling me you almost killed yourself over Bellamy? All you ever did was get in his face and cause him problems, you never even put out you frigid little bitch!” His tone was so malicious that it earned scornful looks from everyone that could hear him.

I felt the teacup smash in my hands, causing fresh blood to spray across my fingers. I sprung to my feet and lunged for him but several of the girls grabbed me before I could reach him. I was still weak and couldn’t wiggle out of their grasp despite the rage that poured out of me. Del jumped back to create further distance between us with an obvious fluster about him.

“Why don’t you come say that to my face?! You’re real brave trash talking me from a safe distance, aren’t you?” I spat as I struggled wildly to get to him. “You just wait until I get you alone, you’ll see what it’s like to be cut up!” I threatened and he tried to continue smirking. I noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes, which were wide and intimidated.

“They were wrong to put you in here with us, you’re a goddamn animal! You’re more grounder than your traitor bitch friend.” He spat and I screamed hysterically at the mention of Octavia as I pushed for him in a frantic surge of energy.

As I tore myself from the girls that had been holding me, several large guards stepped in and dragged me from the room. The men were too strong for me to fight and I was powerless to stop them from moving me. I was carried down to a small white room with a bed and no other furniture. The guards threw me inside and slammed the door behind me in a clash that reminded me of my cell in the Skybox. I paced the room with constant anger as I realised that I had likely breached the terms that Monty had set for me by behaving like a threat, playing right into Del’s hands.

I paced until I ran out of energy and ended up curling into a small ball on the floor, leaned against the bed. I spent the night in this position, struggling with everything I had to not fall asleep. I couldn’t resist slipping into brief catnaps at various points during the night and every time that I did my mind replayed memories of my time with Octavia. The familiarity of the room triggered countless scenes from the Skybox, right from the first time I saw her emerge from an air vent in my time of need. I recalled all of the caring embraces, the subtle notes that we would leave each other when we couldn’t visit and the laughter that we shared in the canteen. I had completely lost track of time and felt like I had been in the room for ten years when the door finally opened for Monty to rush inside. He immediately dropped to my side on the floor to pull me into a hug and I clung onto him with shaking hands.

“Oh thank god, where were you?!” I whispered with relief flooding my mind. “I was so worried about you and Jasper.” I breathed as he sat back and fixed me with an exhausted smile.

“I’m sorry I had to stay with Jasper. He was busy being a hero again.” He sighed with a hint of frustration and I examined him quizzically as I processed his statement. “I’ll explain properly later, let’s get you back to dorms first.” He added as he brushed off my concern and stood up.

“Can I go back to dorms?” I muttered in a small voice as I aired my fears. He smiled and extended a hand to help me to my feet.

“Don’t worry, Harper and Fox explained what happened. Everything’s fine. We just need to make sure it doesn't happen again.” He clarified as he placed a comforting hand on my back and I finally relaxed my shoulders. We walked quietly back to the dorms and I was relieved to find that they were empty when we arrived. I dropped on my assigned bed with a heavy exhaustion and Monty sat on his bunk opposite me.

“How did you convince them to let the dangerous lunatic out? I attacked someone, surely that’s going to cause some problems for you?” I investigated and I couldn’t contain the worry that he may have covered for me.

“Usually I’m sure it would but Jasper just saved someone’s life and that’s why I wasn’t here to be responsible for you, so right now they’re pretty grateful. They’re willing to let it slide this time.” He smiled with a clear relief for me. He took a moment to grab some rags and water and busied himself with cleaning the dried blood from my hand. I was glad that the teacup shards hadn’t caused any deep wounds and that most of the damage had closed up overnight.

“You mentioned that Jasper was being a hero again. What’s he gotten himself into now? And please don’t tell me it doesn’t involve a girl.” I winked in a light, teasing tone despite the nerves that fizzled in my stomach. Monty squirmed in response and I rolled my eyes in frustration.

“You know Jasper by now; of course it involves a girl.” He chuckled at my visible annoyance. “Her name is Maya, she’s been one of the people minding our group since we got here and Jasper’s taken a liking to her. There was a containment breach earlier and she got pretty messed up by the radiation, so he volunteered to do some experimental procedure to save her.” Monty explained as if it weren’t a big deal and I stared at him in horror.

“He didn’t!” I gasped as I considered the implications of this. “Oh I could strangle that stupid, romantic boy sometimes!” I sighed deeply. I was sick of watching Jasper put himself in danger for any pretty girl that crossed his path, especially now that him and Monty were all I had left. “What was the procedure? Is he going to be alright?” I rushed the questions out as I was crushed by my worry for him.

“They wanted to run her radiated blood through his system to see if his body could pass on our immunity.” He stated and I dropped my head into my hands. “He survived it, he’s resting now to recover from the poisoning.” He confirmed and I released the breath that I had been holding as I lifted my face to listen. “It was weird though. They said it was experimental, but the way they talked about it after and how prepared they were to do it…I don’t know, something seemed off.” He recounted and stared thoughtfully off into the distance as he spoke. I raised a brow at him with interest and he forced a smile. “I’m sure it’s fine Indie.” He added quickly and I was alarmed at how quickly he tried to cover his feelings.

“How sure are you exactly?” I whispered as I searched his face for any signs of danger. He sighed deeply before answering me and it was clear that he knew I had noticed.

“I don’t know.” He admitted with a shrug and I felt the knot return to my stomach. “I was speaking to Jasper before about going to look for Clarke, maybe you should come with me, get some time away from here to reflect.” He suggested and I tilted my head at him.

“Why would you look for Clarke? I can’t imagine she’d want to come back here?” I queried in confusion as I attempted to figure out if there was something more that he wasn’t telling me.

“I just want to make sure she’s okay. If it were the other way around and any of us had run away, I feel like she’d have looked for us.” He answered and I noted that he was unable to meet my gaze. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this.

“Wherever you two go, I follow.” I stated with determination as I leaned forward to squeeze his hand and he smiled in return.

We arrived late to dinner to find that our people had already returned to the recreation area. I sat at the table whilst Monty volunteered to take our finished plates out and I surveyed the room to find that only a few people from the group who already lived here were still hanging around. I heard Monty return to the table as I was distracted and he cleared his throat to gain my attention. I looked up to see him standing with two slices of cake, both with lit candles in them. I pondered him with confusion and he placed one down in front of each of us before he took a seat again opposite me.

“I figured we may as well celebrate. We both missed our eighteenth birthday, and even without the threat of a review of your case, they’re a pretty big deal. I mean, yours was a while ago now right? I’m pretty sure I heard that you were about to review?” He spoke with an interested curiosity and I nodded in confirmation. I was days away from turning eighteen when we landed on Earth. “Mine was a few weeks ago.” He divulged as he smiled at me earnestly and my eyes filled with tears at his kind gesture. “So we didn’t get a party, but we’re adults now. I think the least we could do is enjoy some cake and blow out a candle each. What do you say?” He suggested hopefully causing me to chuckle under my breath and I wiped at my eyes to try to contain my emotions. “Don’t forget to make a wish.” He winked, then closed his eyes for a moment and blew out the candle dramatically.

I glanced down at my slice and considered it for a moment. I closed my eyes and concentrated hard on the image of Bellamy and Octavia smiling, happy and well. I wish for my family back. I blew out the candle and felt the familiar pang of pain in my chest. I opened my eyes to see Monty observing me worriedly and I stuffed a full fork of cake into my mouth before he could ask me anything. The taste was the most incredible thing I’d ever experienced and I regarded Monty with a mind blown face. He laughed openly, covering his mouth with his hand to stop himself from spraying cake everywhere.

“Okay, how have I made it to eighteen without cake in my life? This is a travesty!” I exclaimed through a full mouth full of food and Monty snorted in laughter. We finished our desserts with contented smiles and for just a little while, the pain in my heart was bearable.

As we wandered the halls back to dorms I caught sight of a familiar face; Miller was approaching Monty and as my eyes fell onto his relaxed expression I felt my stomach flip. I was immediately reminded of his actions at the dropship and my mind replayed the moment that I witnessed Bellamy being beaten whilst Miller dragged me away. I lost all control of my body as I surged forward to grab him by the shirt.

“You!” I snarled as I shook him viciously in my grip and Monty jolted in surprise beside me. “How could you?! I could have helped him, I wanted to fight! It’s your fault that I’m here alone! Why didn’t you let me do something?!” My voice raised into a desperate screech and Miller’s eyes grew wide as I berated him with questions. Monty forced his way between us and encouraged me to step away with a soothing grip on my shoulders. He blocked Miller from my view as he met my eyes with his usual calming air.

“Indie you need to calm down.” He asserted and I felt the wave of fury that I’d felt moments earlier dissolve in the face of his attentive care. “It’s okay if you need to talk about it. We’re all here to help you. Just take a deep breath.” He instructed and he remained in his protective position until I visibly took a breath to calm down. Once he could trust that I was in control he moved to my side with a reassuring grip on my arm and allowed me to face Miller again. Miller stared back at me with an expression of remorse and I recognised the emotions in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed and I felt the last of my anger pass as I assessed him. “I did what I thought was right and I’m sorry that’s hard for you. Bellamy wanted you to be safe and there was no time…”

“You didn’t need time, you could’ve still taken Clarke to the dropship. All you had to do was leave me.” I argued as my brows furrowed together and I felt hot tears on my cheeks again. “I could’ve helped them to fight, they could still be alive!” I croaked and sniffed to try to stop the floodgates from opening. “What gave you the right to stop me?” I whispered and Miller sighed deeply as he considered me with a broken face.

“I know you think you could’ve done something to change it Indigo. I wish it was different.” He explained as he shuffled on the spot. “I’ve been loyal to Bellamy since we arrived, I had a lot of respect for him and I respected how much your safety meant to him.” He confirmed and I wiped my face with shaking hands at his mention of Bellamy’s feelings for me. It seemed they were more apparent to everyone else than me and I couldn’t help feeling bitter about this. “I made my decision, now I have to live with it.” He admitted with a frown and I nodded back at him.

“I guess we all do.” I muttered as I strode away from him with Monty trailing behind me.

***

The next few days were uneventful, something that still felt bizarre to me. I had my dressings changed again and was pleased to see that my wounds had mostly healed by now. Monty waited anxiously for Jasper to be discharged from medical and I tried to keep him distracted in the meantime. We did everything from reading books together, to working on puzzles. We chatted mindlessly as we worked and I attempted to corner him into discussing whether Harper really seemed more interested in his whereabouts lately, only to be accused of reading into things.

We were both overjoyed when Jasper finally returned to us but were jointly eager to scold him for behaving recklessly again. Before I could get the chance, he gathered our people and addressed them. He tried to present his case as he urged us to consider volunteering for transfusions to help the people who lived here. Monty and I glimpsed each other in disbelief and I felt myself growing more suspicious of the intentions of our rescuers. It was deeply worrying that Jasper seemed to be so brainwashed by them and I was relieved to find that no one else seemed to be interested in taking the risk. When the audience dispersed Monty approached to question him and I followed close behind.

“Dude, what are you doing?” He asked and Jasper seemed to have no idea what he was referring to. “When did you start working for them?” Monty accused as he closed in on him and Jasper simply rolled his eyes. “You know what, never mind. Now that you’re better, I’m going after Clarke.” Monty snapped and I regarded him with surprise. I had been under the impression that Jasper would be coming with us and felt uncomfortable at the idea of having to choose between them. Just as I was opening my mouth to suggest that we all stay together, a girl entered the room from behind Jasper and Monty moved in a frustrated manner. “Of course, right on time.” He sighed frustratedly and I observed her approach Jasper with a warm smile. I deduced from their behaviour that this was the girl that he was interested in and I studied her with a suspicious interest.

“Hey guys, Jasper. I’m so glad to see you’re feeling better.” She smiled but as she moved my eyes were drawn to a notepad in her hands. She held it in front of her chest for us to read. Act normal, they’re listening.

I quickly scanned the page and my eyes widened as I glanced at them both, questioning with only my expression whether this had happened before. From their equally shocked responses, I gathered that this was a first and I felt myself growing uncomfortable. It was clear that something was going on here and I felt immediately uneasy at this idea.

“I am, thanks.” Jasper replied in a terrible effort at sounding normal. I nudged him in annoyance and he shrugged at me. “You look, um, rested.” His voice sounded forced and unnatural, and I rolled my eyes at his poor performance.

She flipped the page to reveal more handwritten messages. The breach wasn’t an accident! Follow me! I inspected the page and felt my stomach flip.

“Hey, it’s pizza day! Who’s hungry?” She asked in an overly friendly tone and forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You know, we’ve never actually had pizza. I’ve heard great things.” I answered as both of the boys were frozen in a state of confusion. When she stepped away from us I pulled them to follow, intrigued by the potential to find out some information.

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rachelannc · 4 years

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Gilmore Girls (Credit: Warner Brothers).

Call me late to the game, but I have joined the world of Stars Hollow and fallen in love with the girls we know as the Gilmore Girls, twenty years after it first debuted, and I’m not even mad about it.

Mind you, I had no intention of binging or even finishing the entire show, but as I casually watched one episode on Netflix and found how easily-digestible it was, one episode turned into three, and then it turned into every other day, and then it became a nightly ritual and, well, you know how it goes.

So grew my uncanny obsession with mother-daughter Lorelai and Rory Gilmore’s witty banter, exceptionally close relationship and charming small town, that I became so invested in their world and was able to finish the show in the two months I have returned and been quarantined in my own little small town. (A surprise for me, as someone who hardly ever watches or keeps up with a show, let alone ever binged a show. Seven seasons? Where do I even start, I thought?!)

Twenty years ago, I was just a seven-year-old girl listening to Hilary Duff and the Backstreet Boys while watching teeny-bopper shows and everything on the Disney Channel. I never really got into soapy teen dramas until (obviously) later in my life when I became a proper teenager.

My first reaction to watching Gilmore Girls? Wow. This Rory girl seems a lot like me.

Rory, the shy and introverted goody two-shoes and bookworm who loves school and always hangs out with her single mother and lives and grows up in a small town where everyone knows each other and loves her; and me, a girl who grew up in a town called Pleasant Hill. And if those Chilton uniforms didn’t remind me more of my own private school uniform? Ha, well I don’t really know what to say.

But really, the resemblances are uncanny and watching the show made me think: What would have happened if I had watched this as a girl growing up? Would I have handled situations with boys differently or treasured my girl time and female friendships a whole lot more, if I had seen Rory and Lorelai grow up, interact, and handle regular growing pains alongside me, as well?

As a first-time viewer, the writing and pacing of the show immediately stuck out. It’s incredibly quick and entertaining, witty through and through. I appreciate all of Lorelai’s references to eighties pop culture and Rory finding refuge in classic literature and the strong female characters and feminists I had so long been inspired by, too.

Moreover, it was incredibly comforting to find another person I could see myself reflected in, onscreen, growing up and making mistakes and always trying to do the right thing, but still staying true to who she was all along.

Her experience was so similar to how my adolescence had felt and been: my mom, who had given me all I ever needed to grow up, and me, just wanting to do right by her, was always responsible and loved at school, receiving attention from boys but never really ever cared for it because I was just happy reading a book or playing my guitar, ha.

And if that scene between Dean and Jess getting into a fight over Rory at a party couldn’t feel even more familiar to my high school days — when I was caught in a love triangle with boys who confessed their feelings to me on the same night, pressured me to make a decision, only for me to see their friendships fall apart right in front of me at school. Wow, that was high school in a nutshell, ha! And it was funny to see moments like that played back onscreen, happening to Rory as she had wished for none of it to happen, yet couldn’t really do anything about these boys’ feelings for her at the same time. (I feel you girl.)

The fact Rory wants to travel and pursue journalism as well couldn’t hit it home for me any more. Her university days reminded me of my own writing articles and chasing stories for my school newspaper. And when her and Paris wanted to experience “all the college experiences,” embarking on a cliche spring break trip trying to do “spring break right,” I couldn’t help but giggle as I found myself in college as well, very well knowing I am not the party type, but decided to get “all the college experience” as well, embarking on a Vegas trip with friends which, I do have to say, was a hell of a time.

There are so many moments from the show that have stuck with me, but here are a few memorable thoughts and moments I’ve had:

When Rory said, “I cannot do this alone. I need my mommy and damn it, I don’t care who knows it!” (s3 e13) I think she was speaking for all of us.

“I don’t want to be that kind of girl. That kind of girl who just falls apart because she doesn’t have a boyfriend.” (s1 e17) Yup. Yup, yup Rory. That was me.

Lane and the Kims and their lifelong friendship was just charming, and I couldn’t help but feel for the Asian best friend and strict mom who means well.

Rory and Paris and their ongoing escapades. Man, you can’t help but love them. Their spring break trip was all too relatable: Rory drinking and drunk-calling Dean for the first time and them doing spring break even if they never want to do it again because they realize they just aren’t the partying type. “It’s a college memory. I intend on having as many college memories as possible.” (s4 e17) Yeah, all too relatable. Ha.

Also Paris being that one friend we all know who is a little too much, too bossy, too aggressive, can turn people off but is also one of our very best friends? It was also incredible to see how their “hatred” (and Paris seeming to pop up everywhere Rory was, lol) turned into a real friendship over the years. I loved seeing that.

Rory’s graduation speech: “My mother never gave me any idea that I couldn’t do whatever I wanted to do or be whomever I wanted to be. She filled our house with love and fun and books and music, unflagging in her efforts to give me role models from Jane Austen to Eudora Welty to Patti Smith. As she guided me through these incredible eighteen years, I don’t know if she ever realized that the person I most wanted to be was her.” (s3 e22) That was a moment that made me just cry and tear up, for being a grateful kid myself, but also feeling just how mushy Lorelai must have been feeling as a mother, raising a good kid, all on her own. Ugh. 😭

Oh, Dean and Jess. They represent the boys we all meet and fall in love with when we’re young: Dean, the dependable boyfriend who is ready to give you everything, support you, be there for you, and may always love you even when you might take him for granted; and Jess, the said “bad boy” and mysterious romantic who leaves you hanging onto every single word that makes you fall head over heels for him, even if you know it might be bad for you.

When Rory has sex for the first time (s4 e22): It was such a big, telling, and coming-of-age moment. And you could feel that. I could feel and know exactly how she was feeling: how excited she was, how dumb it was, how one’s feelings get the best of you even when you normally think every action through and make reasons to justify it. God. I was also afraid to see how the show would handle the situation, especially Lorelai. I’m glad she was never quite overbearing to Rory and trusts her and lets her grow as her own individual, but I’m glad she put her foot down and told her how it was not okay for her to sleep with Dean, who was still a married man. #greatmothermoment

When Rory drops out of Yale and takes some time for herself:

I couldn’t have felt more seen. Going back home, bored at home all over again, finding things to preoccupy myself with until I got bored of it and wanted to move on to the next thing, because I genuinely wanted to… that feels very familiar. And it was heartwarming to see her have this moment and want it for herself. I know it may have been a controversial choice for many, but Rory’s quitting school let her evaluate her own choices, have the space and time to figure herself out — who she was beyond what everyone expects her to be — only to realize that she really does want to be a journalist. Her whole life had been predetermined by her surroundings, and we see just how hard of a worker she is, that to have this “slip-up” is actually the best thing she can do for herself — she realizes she can be and is responsible for her own actions. To experience that in college, rather than many years later down the road, is admirable.

And moreover, I appreciate how Lorelai handled the situation. She never forced Rory to do anything or made her feel bad about her decision. Rather, she let Rory have the space and time to want to go back to Yale and school to be a journalist. She realizes that no one can make that decision for her, but her. And I loved that. Another #greatmothermoment.

Even more so, when Jess surprisingly came back and tells her he’s written a book and reminds her that “this isn’t you,” (s6 e8) that moment almost broke my heart. It reminded me of a time I felt so lost myself and a boy who once knew me would be tough on me, because he cared for me and knew who I was and always have been, and wanted me to do “better” because I was better… I think we’ve all had those people who know us very well who tell us hard truths about ourselves. And we don’t really want to listen, but a part of us knows that maybe they’re actually right. 💔

I actually really liked Logan and Rory’s relationship and the sense of trust and maturity they had built since that infamous “You Jump, I Jack” life-and-death brigade episode (s5 e7). Beyond that, Rory and Logan were completely smitten with each other the whole time. They came from worlds that were incredibly similar, yet wanted to be different. I appreciate how Logan knew and acknowledged his privilege and mistakes. I appreciate how Rory made herself clear that she is a “relationship kind of girl” instead of an “every girl” and gets a boy like Logan to stop his ways. (If I had to be honest, I was never that kind of girl, either.) When they said they’d “factor each other in,” they showed ultimate support for each other. And it’s clear that they were each other’s biggest fans. (When Logan took Rory, Lorelai and Luke out for a Valentine’s Day weekend getaway? Wow.) It’s clear they have a lot of chemistry and fun together. And Logan’s smile to Rory. Ugh.

On Lorelai:

I thought Lolelai and Jason were actually kind of cute. A part of me wanted it to work out, but I knew it never would.

Oh man, I had a fat crush on Max Medina too.

I loved seeing Chris and Lorelai stick by each other throughout all those years, and actually try to make it work. He’s a good guy who means well, and it’s clear how comfortable they are with each other, but timing was never on their side.

The letter Lorelai wrote to Luke’s defense to have custody over his daughter legit brought me to tears. Luke really was there for Lorelai and saw Rory grow up. You can’t ever take that back. Ever. Ugh.

What happened between Lorelai and Chris was bound to happen, and I was actually so happy for Lorelai to be with him. I’m incredibly impressed at how the show was able to show such a raw, real and complicated feeling of never really being “in love,” so well.

Emily and Richard: what a hoot of grandparents. I loved all their comic banter. All those Friday night dinners and the show they always put on. Richard’s relationship with Rory was so warm and comforting, and Emily’s incessant complaining and nitpicking was great. But when Emily actually had a moment towards the end explaining to Lorelai how Lorelai was able to be a single mother, independent and all on her own, while she herself has always been a wife, not knowing how to be independent, couldn’t be a more self-aware moment.

After all of this, it’s incredibly refreshing to see a show like Gilmore Girls let its characters be who they are: wholeheartedly immature and charming, unabashedly flawed yet real. And while these characters could be problematic — Lorelai is at times immature and inappropriate, yet means well; her relationship with Rory may be too codependent that Rory ends up dropping everything to tend to her mom; Rory is part of an elite society that comes from wealth and privilege; Emily constantly hates on the help; etc.

As much as the above is true, it’s still inspiring to see how Lorelai and Rory take on — and maybe even take down — their given worlds. They bicker and laugh, whine and moan, lust, laze around and criticize, but they are also incredibly real. Just as we humans can often be short-sighted in our lives, Rory and Lorelai are too. Too often we are given female characters who are either a saint or a sinner, a wife or a girlfriend, a prude or a prostitute, that with Rory and Lorelai, we get both. I think we all are at times a little annoying, yet incredibly fascinating the next. And that’s probably what has made the Gilmore Girls so beloved and such a cult-classic since its debut in 2000: Its heroines are flawed, yet deeply human, just like us all.

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https://twitter.com/rachelannc/status/1292361621071790091

Thoughts I Had While Watching Seven Seasons of ‘Gilmore Girls’ for the First Time, Ever Call me late to the game, but I have joined the world of Stars Hollow and fallen in love with the girls we know as the

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maerose-late-at-night · 4 years

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Everything (comes back to you)

THIS FIC ON AO3

He’d been sitting there for about an hour, very intently not watching Callum on his date. Instead he sat at the bar with shoulders hunched and folding in on himself. Watching as the line indicating how much beer he had left sunk lower and lower toward the bottom of the bottle. Mick sent him a worried glance every now and then, before sending an equally worried look over Callum’s way. At least, that’s what Ben told himself.

He’d passed tipsy-but-alright miles ago. His head was now filled with smoke and fog and no way out, occasional wisps of Callum’s voice cutting through it like a piercing blade (or maybe like a ray of sunshine). Heard him huff a quiet laugh at something the other bloke said – and it hurt, it hurt – but he couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated. See, Ben knew every possible nuance to the vast repertoire of Callum’s laughs and this… this was just being polite. Because Callum would never leave someone hanging, too afraid to offend their feelings.

Ben… well, Ben could ease a proper full-body laugh out of him, head thrown back and eyes watering, nearly cracking his skull against the headboard after a particularly intense round of hanky-panky. Callum loose-limbed and sated, Ben the happiest he’d ever been, drawing lazy circles on his boyfriend’s chest. He knew that if anyone had taken a close enough look at him, they’d have found actual stars dancing in his eyes.

His fingers travelled to the bottle once more, tracing the path of a droplet of condensation falling down. He swiped at it, pressed it into the paper label that had become a little bit soggy from time passed. He started picking at it, annoyed when it didn’t come clean off, leaving sticky residue against the green and on the tips of his own fingers.

He should let this happen.

Give Callum a fresh start and a clean break – a break he’d forced himself, mind you. Pushed at Callum, pushed at him some more. Try to blink away the tears in his eyes and the knife in his heart and the look on Callum’s face. The feeling of safety and belonging that had engulfed him just a few days ago, pressed close together in the portacabin. He’d wanted to disappear forever, leave everything behind. He’d vaporize, and just stay nestled in the crook of Callum’s elbow or the ticklish spot behind his left ear. In the dip between his thumb and index finger, stroking Ben’s cheek tenderly.

He ventured a glance to where they were sitting. Callum’s date was leaning closer to him than he’d been before, but he – of course – remained completely oblivious. Even after all this time, Callum still didn’t understand the effect he could have on people. It was one of the softest things about him. Ben loved it so much, he needed to protect it, and every other little inch of him. Even if it meant killing himself in the process.

So he couldn’t really explain why he suddenly found himself at their table. “Right, we need to talk.”

Callum looked at him, a little confused and a lot fed up. “Now’s not really a good time, Ben.”

“Oh, no, now’s the best time.” He threw a dirty look in the direction of Callum’s plus-one. “Terribly sorry, needs must and all that. Callum?”

“Hang on,” the stranger said. “Who d’you think you are?”

Not able to bear being labeled ‘the ex’, he bit out “I’m his mate, alright?”.

Callum huffed at that, bit his lip and looked the other way. Shook his head almost imperceptibly, then pushed from his seat and stormed out, Ben following at a leisurely pace. A lot of eyes watched their actions unfold, no doubt wondering as to how Ben would mess it up even further. Though some, he hoped, might be rooting for him, just a little, too.

Callum’s features made a stark contrast to the night air and what little light shone down from a half-waxed moon. He was pacing excitedly, right in the middle of the street. It made Ben worried for him, but mostly it was making him dizzy, the alcohol in his system catching up to him in a swift rush.

He closed his eyes briefly. “Sorry, would you mind stopping for a second?”

Thankfully, Callum did, though the action seemed to shifted his mood as well. He went from anxious to angry in the blip of a heartbeat.

“So you’re my ‘mate’ now, that it?”

Ben chuckled at the way Callum had used those gorgeous long fingers to add pressure to his words. “Those are some pretty intense air quotes, babe.”

Callum deflated at the endearment, all the air and all the fight going out of him in the second it had taken for Ben to unthinkingly use it. He blinked slowly, averted his eyes. “You can’t keep doing this, Ben.” He looked at him, trying to make him see – some sort of sense, he supposed. Futile. “You can’t keep pushing me away then making some claim on me when...”

“I know,” Ben said, taking a step forwards, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. “It’s just… I know I’m not good enough for ya, but that idiot in there ain’t come close either.”

“Right.” Callum nodded, his eyebrows pulling together. “And you can tell just by lookin’ at him, can ya?”

Ben gave him a look that said it was perfectly obvious. “He don’t know ya.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t -”

His head was still spinning. Surely the alcohol should’ve dissolved by now? “No he couldn’t.”

“Right.” Callum said again. He was so close to Ben now; both of them were shouting. When had that happened? Ben couldn’t remember. “So you’re not good enough, he’s not good enough. Anyone ever going to be?”

“No, they ain’t.” Ben said, placing his hands to either side of Callum’s face, cradling it softly. It was the best prize in the world, and he couldn’t have it.

“No they ain’t, Callum. Because you’re beautiful and kind and amazing in just about every way. And I’m completely in love with ya. And there’s never gonna be anyone in the world that actually deserves all the stuff you give out.”

Callum stilled. “Hang on, say that again?”

“Orright, calm down big ego.” Ben rolled his eyes. “You’re beautiful an’ kind and amazing. And I know for some reason that still comes as bloody news to ya..”

“No…no, not that.” He smiled. “The part you said you’re in love with me.”

Panic rose in his chest. His hands dropped immediately. Damn beers. “Errr… don’t think I said anything of the kind, mate.”

“Yes you did.” Callum was beaming, a grin so wide it would no doubt split his face apart if he kept it on for too long.

So Ben told him just that.

“You know if the clock strikes your face’ll freeze that way.”

He felt defeated. “Look, even if I did, it don’t change anything, do it?” He balled his hands into fists by his side to keep from shaking. “You’re still too good, Callum, I’m not gonna ruin ya.”

“You’re wrong,” Callum said. “ it changes everything. It proves I was right, you’re just scared. But I’m not letting you go.” His hands closed over Ben’s, Callum’s fingers caressing them until they unfurled from their clenched position. “I’m not letting you go, Ben.” He repeated. “Whatever it is you’ve done.. I’m not sayin’ I don’t care, but we’ll get through it. You can’t deal with this on your own, it’ll break ya.”

Ben bit his tongue, turned away. “Well, whatever you’re thinking, it’s worse.”

“Your dad punched out Jack ‘cause he though he was the baby’s dad, yeah? I don’t imagine he’d let Keanu breathe when he realized.”

Ben raised his eyebrow at the matter-of-fact way the words’d been spoken. Like it was no more than a fact. With no consequences or blame or possible jail time.

“Copper like you can hardly have a boyfriend with that on his record, can he?”

Callum gave him a small and private smile. “See, the thing is…I’m not gonna be a copper no more.”

That was even worse. “Giving up your dream to be with…”

“Nah, see..” Callum interrupted him. “I’ve been thinking these past few weeks, being away from ya. ‘Bout why I wanted to be a copper in the first place. And I just… I want to help people, Ben. Be ‘of service’, like. I’m not doing that at the parlour where I just apply balm after the wounds, I wanna stop the hurt from happening in the first place.” He squeezed Ben’s hand. “I don’t wanna save people from criminals, Ben. I wanna save ‘em from themselves.”

His eyes were wide and trusting. “Like when I talked Bobby down. Or who I was before I met you. Or who you’d be if it wasn’t for ya dad. I’ve been there, I know. I think I might be good at pulling people out.”

“And I’m not perfect like you think, Ben. I’m broken same as you…”

When Ben started to protest this, he shushed him. “No I’m not. D’you wanna know how many times I still wake up from nightmares ‘bout what I did in the army?”

What? “You never…”

“Never when I’m with you.” Callum acknowledged. “Wanna know why that is, Ben? It’s ‘cause you make me feel safe. I’m not scared when I’m around you.” He smiled at him. “You do that for me.”

“Callum…”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Callum said, without even the slightest tremor in his voice. Only confidence and – Jesus Christ, so much love shining through. “We’re going to forget these past weeks ever happened.” He gave Ben a cheeky smile. “And you’re coming home with me tonight.”

Ben grinned. “Bit confident, are ya?”

“Got every reason to be,” Callum told him, taking the smaller man into his arms. Ben suppressed a shiver as Callum kissed the top of his nose, nuzzled the tender spot between his eyes, before pulling back. “This guy I like just told me he loves me back. Don’t need to know anything else, really.”

He paused.

“Now come ‘ere you big grizzly bear.”

The statement was followed by small laugh.

This, Ben knew, this was one of the good ones. He’d treasure the sound forever.

(Later, there’d be a discussion about how Ben in NO WAY could qualify as a ‘big grizzly bear’. Callum would tease him, attempting every pet name within the realm of possibility. He was thinking something along the lines of a fuzzy, cute koala bear. But they didn’t need to settle on anything just now, he said. They had years and years and years.)

#ballum #ballum fic #fix it fic #13.01.2020 #okay so this is how I imagine the whole date-scenario thing #my boys #ee #eastenders #ben mitchell #callum highway #benxcallum

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no-te-lo-voy-a-dar · 5 years

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Sibling Jealousy - Chapter 4

Fic’s Summary: Reader has known the Winchesters for a long time, almost two years before Cas entered their lives. After that, since Reader was the only one actually teaching the angel about humanity customs and stuff like that, properly, they developed a closer relationship, on the parent-kid way. But it was never verbally acknowledged. Now, with Lucifer’s child on the way, life stabs some sense and realizations onto Reader, but there’s no time for feelings in this house.

Author’s Note: This is mainly a fic with the purpose of developing a family relationship with the characters, of mutual support, and I don’t plan on adding romance for Reader, because that’s not my final goal.

Pairings: Castiel/Reader (Platonic), Jack Kline/Reader (Platonic), Dean and Sam Winchester/Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Usual canon violence and conflicts, as well as injuries and blood mentions, emotional struggles such as feeling unloved, like an outcast, low self-esteem issues and if you think something else should be mentioned let me know.

<<Last Chapter - Next Chapter>>

Chapter’s Author’s Note: Uni has been wild, so I haven’t had a chance of watching but one episode for the whole week, but I do have a couple of chapters already written so here. I took the ‘use of grace’ idea out of the woman who killed Ishim and was hunting Castiel’s garrison, but it’s just a bonding idea I came up with, probably it won’t last, probably I will use it later, I don’t know. I don’t have a Beta reader and that’s alright, I have to somehow practice my English and not rely a lot on auto-filling I suppose. Season 15 has already started, and I’m trying to not get too spoiled, but I do see some stuff, as usual, which is basically how I have ‘kept up’ so far. If you are watching, good luck, stay strong, don’t let ‘em clown us.

Chapter Four: Don’t Cry, Scream

Word Count: 2011

You weren't sure how long you fell asleep for, but when you went to the main room on the Bunker after having a quick cereal with milk as breakfast, you saw Sam working on his computer and checking the cameras around the place.

"Morning Sam. What are you up to?" You were watching from behind him, eating a complementary Apple to your...whatever hour it was meal.

"Oh hi (Y/N). I'm checking the cameras to see which room might be the best to go practice with Jack.” he seemed to have already chosen one, because he started to pick up a notebook and a pen, leaving the laptop with the feedback on over the table.

“Wait, what are you planning to do? And where’s Dean?” You were following Sam, because even if he was on your side about bringing Jack to the Bunker, you weren’t so sure about him not really hurting him. Or Jack accidentally hurting Sam.

“Dean went with Jody to help an old friend of us. A psychic. Apparently there’s something killing them and the most recent victim was her protégée.”

“Oh, uh, I think you’ve mentioned her once or twice. Don’t remember her name though. And about my other question?” You and Sam were now in front of Jack’s room door.

“Ah, well, that…” Sam proceeded to knock on the door and wait for Jack to open it, not finishing his answer to you.

“Hi, good morning Jack. Uh, just wanted to check on you, you haven’t come out since we set you up yesterday night.”

“Yes. I was just...tired.”

“Understandable, it’s been quite a ride these past days. Anyway, as I was about to tell (Y/N) here, I had a plan for you today, about training your powers.”

“Train my powers? How so?”

“Well, come. I’ve picked a room for you and I to do so.” Just as Sam was starting to walk, you cleared your throat to catch both of their focus.

“I think Jack should have breakfast first. They don’t call it the more important meal of the day for nothing. Come Jack, I hope you are fine with cereal and a glass of juice for now, I’ll go buy groceries later.” Jack nodded and walked besides you just like last night, just as you heard Sam closing the door to Jack’s room and follow you.

---

You left both of them on the room Sam had picked, and told them you were going out to get more food stuff and some other thing’s for Jack’s stay, so you wouldn’t be back on the same day, since you were going a couple of towns away.

When you were back you saw the Impala outside of the Bunker’s main door, so you decided to left the stuff on your car and go inside to say hi before parking inside the Bunker and take the shopping items to the kitchen and to Jack.

Of course, things couldn’t go as smooth as you wanted them to. They never did, even if it was something as mundane as a greeting and getting the shopping items on the shelves and fridge.

You meet Dean before going inside, and went down the stairs together while he and Sam started talking about the case and “the kid”.

Just as Sam confronted Dean about him telling Jack he would kill him, things started to get heated up, and you were just on the side, trying not to say anything while Sam called out Dean for not giving Jack a chance, about how he didn’t put a bullet on Sam when his father told him to, or how you both helped Sam with the blood addiction issue.

Great, now there was no way you could just walk away from there.

“You saved me. So help us save him!” Sam really got worked up and you were guessing he had some talk with Jack. You’ll ask them about it later.

“You deserved to be saved. He doesn’t.” wait what? You had to say something to him.

“Wait a second Dean. He does. He was just born. He didn’t even know what orange juice was until I told him not even a couple days ago. No human is really born evil or rude or racist or messed up stuff like that. They are taught that way. And we are not going to teach him that!” And Cas had faith in him, so I will too. Just by that thought, a lump started forming on your throat.

“Look, maybe Sam cares about him because he sees him as an interdimensional can opener, and he only cares for what he can do.” He directed that part only to Sam, even when he was answering you, but the next part he kept glancing between his brother and you.

“So if you wanna pretend, that’s fine! But me? I can hardly look at the kid. ‘Cause when I do all I see is everyone we’ve lost.” You hated how Dean usually approached emotional issues by screaming.

“Mom choose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack.” Sam was trying to keep his brother at bay, to make him see thing for what they really were.

So that’s what happened when Mary got out of the house and why she didn’t come back and her body wasn’t there alongside Cas’ and Kelly’s. You didn’t like this was the first time you were listening and learning what happened. Mainly because of how you were.

“And what about Cas?!” He looked at you, and then went back to glance at the taller Winchester, waiting for a reply.

“What about Cas?” Just as Sam’s voice expressed, you also didn’t get what Dean was trying to make you ‘understand’.

“He manipulated him. He made him promises. Said “Paradise on Earth”, and Cas bought it. And you know what that got him? IT GOT HIM DEAD!” He took a couple of seconds to avoid crying in front of you, but you weren’t so sure, your vision was already pretty blurry.

“Now you might be able to forget about that, BUT I CAN’T!” Dean kept screaming at Sam’s face, but his eyes went to yours every then and now, trying to make you see, feel his point, and you could see Sam was trying not to cry and break in front of Dean too.

That’s it, you weren’t staying in that room any longer. You had to go find Jack and then get the shopping from the car you took. Just get your mind busy, then maybe to shut down and your body go on automatic.

You contemplated getting drunk, but that would have to wait for Jack to be asleep, and by the time your exhaustion would take care of putting you to sleep by itself. Besides, doing so wasn’t your favorite coping mechanism.

“Yeah, well guess what Dean, it’s not like we have forgotten. I know I haven’t. But Jack didn’t made promises on the frigging womb. His powers showed what he is capable of, and since he’s not evil what Castiel saw was a better world. You know who I blame? Crowley. If that bastard hadn’t hickjacked Rowena’s spell, Lucifer would have been actually sent to the cage, and there wouldn’t have been a confrontation and we would probably be eating the pie and ice cream and stuff I got. Or maybe trying not to burn the kitchen while cooking something. But no. And that’s NOT Jack’s fault!” Your voice kept breaking while almost screaming to Dean, but you didn’t care.

“Oh no, don’t bring Crowley into this, this was not his fault, he actually helped us and sacrificed himself to leave Lucifer trapped.” Oh so he was defending the bastard now?!

“Yes well, why don’t you see Cas’ death as his sacrifice so you both, Jack and heck, even I, could get out of there alive?!” Before storming to the way that leads to the bedrooms, you had to add something else.

“I miss him too Dean, I freaking do, and just like you, I haven’t had time to properly mourn him. But you could at least respect his memory by helping Jack, trying to see why he decided to take care of him. Castiel was thrilled to have a purpose again, and you want to kill a kid who even protected us from Asmodeus without really knowing us.”

When neither of the brothers said something, you finally stepped out of the main room, only to see Jack, with his eyes glowing gold, whispering a constant chant of Castiel, so low you were only capable of hearing it because you were close to him and the Bunker was a quiet place.

You sniffled, and tried to even your breathing, before approaching him.

“Jack? Jack, are you alright? Hey, it’s me, (Y/N). I need you to breath with me.” His eyes locked with yours, and you could, kind of, feel the power emanating from him, something strong, like a push and pull, but also...sadness?

“Breath in...breath out. Relax your muscles. Breath in...and out.” After some more breathing repetitions, you weren’t sure if you were doing it for Jack or yourself, but your vision cleared and his eyes went back to light brown, so it worked for both of you.

“Come, help me get the groceries out of the car. And I got you some stuff for your bedroom.” Both of you walked to the garage, opened it, and then you parked the car inside.

While passing some bags to Jack, and you grabbing others, the silence was predominant, but once you reached the kitchen with the first batch of bags, he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure about what, but he truly sounded sorry.

“About what? Did you break the tomato sauce bottle?”

“No, about me getting Castiel dead...what’s tomato sauce?” Okay, not the time to explain what tomato sauce was.

“Jack, you have to listen to me, and believe me when I say, Castiel’s death is NOT your fault okay? He committed to protecting you and taking care of you. It was his choice. He used his free will to go against Lucifer. He could have taken you and ran away, but we all know Lucifer would have followed you and Castiel didn’t want to be running from him, so what he did was the most logical thing.” You wanted to say so much more, but if you did, you were going to have a mental breakdown and Jack shouldn’t see that or he would feel guiltier.

“But Dean…!” “Dean has the tendency of projecting his pain on others, trying to make others feel what he feels even if that means hurting them more than they already are. Just, you gotta be strong and try not to let it get too much into your head, this shall pass. Sam and I are going to do everything that we can to try and calm Dean down, okay? You just gotta focus on trying to relax and get a hold of your powers.” You patted his shoulder and signaled him to follow you to the car again, to gather the stuff you bought him.

“About that...Sam told me to try and move a pencil, but I couldn’t, I’m scared of using my powers and hurt more people.” He sounded like an actual child right there, and a bulb went on inside your head.

“Hey, what if I try to teach you how to use your powers to heal others?” “But, you don’t have powers, do you?” there he goes with the head tilt again.

“No, but I once had angel grace inside me. Long story short, I was kind of a package box until we got to the angel who owned the grace. But I learned a few things.” You winked at him while throwing the new blankets, which he caught.

His face light up with a smile, and yup, there was no way this boy was evil.

“Come on, let’s teach you how to put these on your bed.”

Sibling’s Tag List:

@carryon-doctor-lock @theferretkids @sapphysaph(idk why i can’t tag u m8) @hazelle-uvu

(If you wanna be added, please say so in the comment’s section of THIS post)

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years

Text

Second Chances - Ch. 8

Finding Courage

Warnings: Swearing, angst, grief, fluff with an extra serving of fluff!

Word count: ~10,000

**Author’s note: A book is mentioned that wasn’t published until 1999, but humor me. It’s fiction!

It’s been three weeks since Arthur brought you back to camp. Your ribs and head have mostly healed and cause little pain. Your leg, on the other hand, still has a ways to go. You are starting to get bored and stir crazy, trapped in camp. Strauss determined, shortly after you came back, that you would need around 6 weeks of recuperation, and Grimshaw is hell bent that you don’t leave Arthur’s tent until you can walk again.

Nearly everyone in camp has come to your aid in relieving the boredom. Mary-Beth will sometimes come and sit next to you, discussing books as the two of you knit. She brings you the materials so you don’t have to leave the cot. Javier occasionally sits next to you and plays his guitar or tells you stories about Mexico. One day Jack even comes, offering you a string of flowers to wear around your head that he made himself. You feel extraordinarily grateful to all of them. However, no one can light a candle to Arthur’s efforts.

He’s hardly left camp, determined to take care of you. He brings you coffee every morning and Pearson’s stew every night. As much as you appreciate it, you also wish he’d go out and do things for himself the way he did before you left. He has done one thing for you that you have greatly enjoyed. Nearly every afternoon, he comes into the tent with a book and he reads to you. Sometimes, he’ll hand you the book and have you do it, but you secretly adore it when he’s the one reading. You love hearing his deep, gentle voice. His face softer when he reads, brightening his eyes.

You feel bad for taking the man’s tent and cot. A week after you returned, you tried to offer it back to him, saying you could go sleep in your own tent and bedroll, but he refused, stating you needed it more than him. He’s been spending his nights sleeping close to you, usually on the ground propped up against the crates.

It’s nearly afternoon now and Arthur’s been in camp all day. You’ve been keeping an eye on him, watching as he does chores during the morning. He approaches you, smiling.

“Hey there, Y/N,” he greets, sitting down in the chair that’s remained in the tent. “I need to go huntin’ again, Pearson’s gettin’ real low. But listen, I ain’t gonna go far. When I get back, we can read some more if ya like.”

“Sounds good. I hope Hosea has a new book, think we’ve breezed through his collection already.”

He chuckles. “I’m sure he has one ya ain’t read. ‘Sides, I’m shoar Mary-Beth would be more than happy to lend ya one of hers.”

You sigh, a soft smile on your lips. “Wish I could go with you,” you admit. “I’m getting so bored! If only this damn leg would get better.”

“I know, ya just gotta be patient. Anyways, I need to get goin’.”

He stands up and heads off. Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve been careful with your emotions around him. You’ve done nothing to show you’re still interested, despite it being completely true. If anything, your feelings have gotten stronger, but so has your friendship, and you refuse to let anything ruin that again. He climbs onto Artemis’s saddle and leaves after waving to you.

You wave back, feeling your heart sink. A few days after you had returned, you remembered what happened to Rain. The pain from your leg has been nothing in comparison to the loss of your horse. You tell yourself she was just a horse, an animal. Still the pain of losing such a close friend and companion is so deep sometimes you feel like you’re drowning. You’ve been trying your best to hide it all from Arthur and everyone else, but there are few things you’ve done that are more difficult than suppressing them. Now that no one is around to see you, you lie down on your side, facing the wagon. You silently acknowledge the pain now and let the tears stream down your face, soaking the pillow. It feels like someone shot you in the chest, leaving a gaping hole that cannot be filled. You wish you couldn’t feel anything, it would be so much easier. You purposefully clench your leg in a way that you know will force it to flare, the physical pain is a great distraction and far preferable to what you feel in your heart.

You must have fallen asleep; someone shakes your shoulder gently.

“Y/N, ya awake?” Arthur quietly asks.

You turn, rubbing your sore eyes, looking up at him and sitting up. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya. I have somethin’ for ya, though.”

You look at him as he sits down and reaches into his satchel. “I stopped in Valentine, needed to get somethin’ from the store. Found this, thought ya might like it.”

He hands you a thin book. The green cover has a sketch of a horse’s head, framed in gold ivy. You read the words above the sketch. “Black Beauty,” you say.

“Yeah, thought it might be different. I ain’t never read it before. Figured we could try it.”

You smile as your eyes begin to water. “Thank you, Arthur.”

He smiles sadly at you. “I know ya miss her, darlin’. Rain. She was a good horse.”

“The best,” you say, wiping your eyes. He grabs your hand, running a thumb over it. “It’s hard, sweetheart. I still miss Boadicea. Every day, ‘s matter of fact.”

“But you have Artemis, and I know how much you like her.”

“I do, but that don’t mean I don’t miss Boadicea. What I’m tryin’ to say is it’s okay to miss her, but that don’t mean ya can’t get another horse and care about it, too.”

You can’t prevent the tears falling again. “I just… it makes me feel so weak to feel this way. Sometimes it’s like I can’t breathe.”

“I know,” he says, squeezing your hand. “But to be honest, if ya didn’t feel this way, I’d be more worried about you.”

You sit there in silence, trying to wipe the tears from your face, which seems pointless since they keep falling. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a thin cloth, handing it to you.

“You wanna tell me about her?” he asks softly, taking hold of your hand again.

You smile, despite the pain. “Yeah” you sniff hard, composing yourself enough to talk. “When I was about 10 or so, my grandma had this big, black mare. She got pregnant. I was staying in her cabin when the horse went into labor. My grandma was one of the toughest people I ever known. She had me help her with the foaling. While we were in the barn, a huge thunderstorm came on us. Rained like the devil. My grandma handed her to me right after she was born. I held her head in my lap while we waited for her to start breathing. She was so goddamn cute! We stayed up for hours, cleaning her up, petting her all over. Then she finally stood. When she started nursin’, my grandma told me to name her. I remember listening to the rain outside; that’s how I named her.”

You wipe your eyes as a new wave of tears hits you. Arthur rubs your hand encouragingly. “My grandma told me that she wanted me to take care of the foal. I didn’t live with her, but I visited her every day after that. She showed me how to train her to take a halter, bridle, saddle. Then she taught me how to groom her, clean her feet. When she was about a year, she taught me how to ride on her. We learned together. I can’t tell you how many trail rides I went on with my grandma after that. She used to tell me how Rain would pine for me when I wasn’t there.”

You smile fondly at the memory, your chest clenches painfully. “Then my grandma died a few years later. My dad sold every horse she had, including Rain’s mom. Made a lot of money, too. He tried to sell Rain as well. That was the scariest time of my life. I thought I was gonna lose her. Somehow, though, I convinced him to let me keep her with his grumpy old gelding. She came with me when I got married. I remember one time my husband was outside. He was real drunk, stumblin’ all over the place. He somehow made it inside our pasture. Rain walked over to him just so she could kick him!” you chuckle, Arthur joining in. “Probably a good thing he was drunk; he couldn’t remember a thing about it later on. I’ve always been able to trust her. Knew she’d never let me down. She was the only thing I could depend on after my grandma died. And now I’ve lost her!”

Your voice gives out as the pain overtakes you, forcing your knees to your chest. Arthur lets go of your hand and places it on your back, rubbing gently. He stays silent as you sob into your hands. When you begin to quiet down, he speaks up.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. I never knew you had that kind of connection to her. Makes me and Boadicea seem like a regular pair of fools. But I want ya to know something.” He takes his hand and places it under your chin, turning your wet face to look at him. His thumb wipes away a tear from your cheek. “She’s happy, I’m shoar. She’s up there in a great prairie, where she can eat, drink and play all day long. She still remembers ya, though, and no matter what happens, she’ll always be with ya. Don’t ever doubt it. She wants ya to be happy because ya made her so happy.”

You close your eyes, fresh tears dripping from your eyes. Arthur’s face is so close you can feel his hot breath on you. You open your eyes and see yourself reflected in his blue ones, the scar on his chin. His scent envelopes you; that smell of pine and leather. He’s starting to lean in, you can’t stop looking at his lips.

Reverend Swanson stumbles over, waving around a bottle. “One night when I was frisky,” he starts singing loudly. Arthur and you dart away from each other, startled by his sudden presence. “After drinkin’ some potent whisky!” He continues on. His red, puffy eyes find the pair of you and he smiles broadly, making his clumsy way to you.

“Hey, you two! I want ya to know,” he stumbles, leaning against the pole that holds up the canvas above your heads. “That you are children of God! Children of God!”

He suddenly slumps onto the ground, unconscious.

“Damn it, Swanson,” Arthur grumbles as you giggle. He stands up and picks up Swanson, kicking his empty bottle away. You wipe your eyes as he heaves the Reverend back to his own cot. You hear someone calling his name after that, asking him for his help.

Sometime after the incident with Swanson, you’re lying in the cot still. You’ve managed to compose yourself after your meltdown, but you still hold the book Arthur brought you. You haven’t opened it, waiting for him to return so you can read it together.

Charles enters the tent, holding a long, wooden cane. He looks at you; he seems nervous. “Hello, Y/N,” he greets.

“Hey there, Charles,” you smile.

He holds up the cane. “I, ugh… I made this for you. I know you won’t be able to walk for a bit, but I thought it could help you.”

You look closely at the cane as you take it from him. It’s made of dark wood, the handle has been carved into the intricate form of an owl. You run your thumb over its orb-like eyes.

“Charles, this is amazing!”

He gives you a rare smile. “I just wanted to let you know how much this camp’s appreciated you. Ya know, Pearson’s stew hasn’t been this lean on meat since Colter.”

You chortle. “Well, that means a lot to me, Charles. Thank you so much.”

He nods and leaves. You glance back at the cane, admiring the delicate carvings. You feel honored to receive such a beautiful gift, despite the fact that you and Charles have rarely even spoken to one another.

Arthur returns, followed by John, Bill and the O’Driscoll prisoner, whom you learned a while back is named Kieran Duffy. He looks around nervously, particularly at the tree he’s been tied to since the gang arrived here. You’ve spent hardly any time around him since you yourself were a prisoner of sorts until recently and didn’t want to be seen interacting with a known enemy. You come to a decision, determined to pull it off.

You throw off the blanket, swinging your legs so they dangle off the cot. Your thigh complains at the movement, but you ignore it. You press your feet to the ground, basking in the feeling of grass against your skin again. You grasp the cane as hard as you can, using it to begin lifting yourself up.

“Woah, woah!” a voice calls out, getting close to you. Lifting up your head, you see it’s Arthur. “What ya doin’, girl?”

He approaches you so quickly you sit back down on the cot.

“I’m bored, Arthur. I been layin’ here for weeks! I wanna get up, see the world. Even the other side of camp would be a welcome sight.”

He huffs, standing in front of you. “I know. I don’t know if yer strong enough, though. Don’t want ya hurtin’ yer leg again.”

You straighten up. “I can handle it just fine, Arthur. Besides, I have this to help me.”

You lift up the cane. Arthur grabs and inspects it. “Where you get this from?”

“Charles. Said he made it for me.”

“Well, that’s real fine,” he says, smiling as he hands it back to you. “Tell ya what, ya can try standin’ and walkin’, but I ain’t leavin’ yer side.”

“Deal.” You situate the cane again, using it to pull yourself up. Arthur offers you his hand, which you take. He helps lift you up, letting you put a good portion of your weight against him as you slowly start to press down on your leg. Although it hurts like hell, it seems like it will hold your weight. For now, at least.

Arthur takes a step away from you, still holding onto your hand. He gestures to you, telling you to walk forward to him. You take a hesitant step, moving the cane with your leg. You can tell instantly by the shaking and the pain that if Arthur weren’t there, you’d have fallen already. You look down, shaking your head.

“Maybe you’re right, Arthur. I don’t know if I can do this.”

He sighs heavily. “I ain’t surprised. Well, can ya stand on it at least?”

You slowly nod, a little unsure.

“Good. Ya mind if I…” he gestures his arms towards you, wrapping one around your waist while the other approaches your knees. You realize he’s offering to pick you up. You nod your head and drape an arm over his shoulder before he sweeps you up effortlessly into his arms. You hold on tight to your cane; it dangles from your grip as he swings around and walks towards the hitching post where Artemis is tied. You see Hosea and Grimshaw looking at the two of you, smiling. You try your best to prevent the blush in your cheeks as he carries you over to the large grey horse, setting you down close to her. He stands behind you, letting you use him as a pillar to lean on in case your leg gives out.

You test your aching thigh, finding it capable of holding you up. You reach up with your arms and pat Artemis’s neck. She rumbles softly, the sound low and deep, swishing her tail. Her ears point back so she can hear you, her eyes soft as she chews slowly.

“Ah, knew she’d remember ya,” Arthur says softly behind you. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a treat, handing it to you. You take it and offer it to the large horse. You continue to pet her as she munches on it.

After a few moments, your leg begins to remind you that it’s still wounded. You do your best to turn to Arthur. “Thank you for this,” you say, smiling up at him, limping. “You’ve no idea how nice it is to pet a horse again. Even if it’s not…”

His hand reaches up and settles on your upper arm, his thumb tracing lines. Without a word, he sweeps you up into his arms and towards the tent. You hear from the direction of the campfire the sound of Javier playing his guitar.

“Arthur, wait. Will you take me to the campfire?”

He stops and looks. “Shoar, why not?”

He changes directions and takes you over, setting you down carefully on one of the logs. You adjust your leg so the pain is hardly noticeable. Arthur sits down close to you, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

Javier stops playing, looking up at you. “Hola, Y/N,” he says.

“Hi, Javier. Please don’t stop playing on my account.”

He smiles as his fingers expertly pluck at the strings again. “Glad to see you finally out of that tent.”

“Me too. Arthur here’s too kind to let me use it, but I’m ready to leave.”

The two men chuckle. Arthur hands you his cigarette. You take it and drag from it as Javier begins singing in Spanish. The sound of the guitar and his voice washes over you. You’d take this any day over Dutch’s gramophone, especially since you swear Dutch likes to play it either late at night or unforgivably early in the morning. It’s amazing it hasn’t mysteriously disappeared. You hand Arthur back his cigarette, trading smiles with him.

A few days later, you’re standing in camp, leaning against the table where Lenny and Micah play five finger fillet. You’ve been standing up each day, even taking a few steps, trying to gain the strength back in your legs. You feel particularly proud today since you managed to walk all the way to the table by yourself, despite the pain. You had to use the cane, of course, and it took an unimaginably long time, but you did it. Your leg throbs painfully now, having been strained by the walk.

Arthur’s not in camp. Dutch had sent him out early this morning to go meet with someone named Trelawney with Charles and Javier to retrieve Sean. Word is that Sean is being held near Blackwater by bounty hunters, so the group left to go and get him back. You have to say you’re looking forward to seeing him again. He always has a way to lighten up the mood in camp. You just hope nothing goes wrong.

Hosea approaches you as you lean up against the table.

“Hello, Y/N,” he says as he uses a mortar and pestle to grind up some herbs. You recognize it instantly. After Grimshaw and the others had you cleaned and stitched up, Hosea made a highly useful combination of grounded herbs to help with the pain. Swanson had given you a dose of his morphine previously, but you didn’t like how fuzzy it made you feel. It also tended to make you feel nauseous and sick. You wondered how he managed to take it so frequently. Soon afterwards, Hosea introduced you to the herbs. They didn’t knock out the pain as effectively as the morphine, but at least they didn’t make you sleepy.

“Keep on giving me that stuff, Hosea, and I’ll live to be a hundred,” you joke as he leans next to you.

He laughs. “That’s the idea. How’s that book you and Arthur been readin’? What’s it called again?”

“Black Beauty,” you say fondly. You and Arthur have been reading from it nearly every day since he brought it to you. You’ve grown fond of it, even though it makes you miss Rain.

“That’s the one. Ya mind if I borrow it when yer done?”

“Sure. Don’t know if it’s really up your alley, though.” Arthur mentioned that Hosea was more of a mystery fan when it came to books.

“I’m always open to new stories,” he says with a sly smile. “Arthur tells me yer gettin’ real good with readin’ and writin’.”

You smile. “Yeah. Hard to believe only two months ago, I couldn’t read. Seems like a lifetime ago that I was runnin’ on my own.”

“It’s lucky Arthur found ya. You’ve been good for each other.”

You smile wider, staring off into the camp as Hosea continues to grind the herbs. Lenny, standing in the trees, shouts that someone’s coming. Javier prances in on Boaz, his silver paint; Sean sitting behind him. He hollers loudly, calling the entire camp’s attention to him. Charles follows behind, rolling his dark eyes.

“Fear no more, ladies and gents!” Sean yells loudly in his thick Irish accent, spreading his arms wide open. “The life of te party is back!”

You can’t help but laugh as he hops off Boaz; you can tell by Javier’s face that he was quite the companion. Javier dismounts, muttering in Spanish, stalking off to the campfire.

“Ol’ Grimshaw!” Sean yells as Susan walks past, holding a cup of coffee. “Don’t ya worry, lass! I’ll get these girls whipped up into shape again! Pearson!” he yells at the cook, skinning a rabbit. “That pot o’ yours will never ‘ave been fuller now I’m back!”

Pearson and Grimshaw laugh. Sean turns and sees you next to Hosea. He notices the the way you hold your leg, cane in hand.

“Ah, it wouldn’t be right if ya didn’t have some new injury to show off!” he guffaws, approaching you. You can’t help but chuckle with him. “You and John could be best mates! Ol’ Scar Face and the One-Legged Belle!”

You guffaw, “Yeah, ‘cept I still have my leg, ya dolt!”

He stands next to you and drapes an arm lazily over your shoulder, not noticing your attempts to gently shrug it off.

“Ah, o’ course, o’ course. Bet ya gave te bastard who tried rippin’ it off quite a time, though. Hardly known a better butcher than you, ‘cept for old Arthur maybe!”

You giggle, finally pulling his arm off of you. Hosea walks off, shaking his head fondly. Just then, Arthur trots in on Artemis. You turn to face him, smiling widely. He smiles back as he dismounts.

“Ah, and if it isn’t ol’ grumpy Morgan now! Don’t know why ya hang wit’ him so much. Such a downer, that one!”

You laugh, waving him off. Sean struts away, calling to Uncle. Arthur comes and stands in front of you, hands on his gun belt.

“Ya manage to get over here on yer own?” he asks.

You smile proudly. “I sure did! Only took me half an hour. Glad you got Sean out of there, even if he talks too much.”

“Yeah, he might be a loud mouth and a braggart, but he’s a good kid.” He smiles, reaching into his satchel. He pulls his hand out, which is clenched around something.

“I, ugh,” he begins before clearing his throat loudly. “Found this when I was headin’ back. Well, after I helped some wildlife photographer get his bag back from a greedy coyote. Reminded me of you.”

He opens his hand and reveals a necklace made of a silver chain. Dangling from it inlaid in a silver clasp is a small sapphyre. You look up at him after admiring the stone.

“Arthur, you didn’t have to get me this,” you say. “How much this cost you?”

He huffs. “Technically, it didn’t cost me nothin’. Some guy on the trail bumped into me, then demanded I apologize.”

You laugh. “I imagine that didn’t end well for him.”

“No, it didn’t. He’s fine, though, if yer wonderin’. I only took his money and found this in his pocket. I was gonna sell it until I saw it proper. Thought you might like it.”

Your heart swells as he puts it around your neck, latching the chain to the hook. You admire it as it rests on your chest, then look up at him again.

“Thank you, Arthur. But seriously, you should have sold it. Bet ya could’ve gotten twelve dollars for it, if not more.”

“Nah, I think I prefer it this way. Looks nice on you.”

His hand comes up to settle on your upper arm. You find yourself placing your hand on his chest, feeling the stamped leather of his red vest. He starts pulling you closer, shrinking the gap between you. His eyes are mirroring yours.

You hear someone yell Arthur’s name. John walks up and the two of you split immediately, hoping he didn’t see you standing so close to one another.

“Morgan,” he says again. The look on his face says he didn’t notice your close proximity to one another, and if he did it doesn’t show. “Mary-Beth said somethin’ ‘bout that train goin’ south to Saint Denise. I think we oughta start plannin’ on it, see if we can take it.”

Arthur sighs in frustration as you lean back on the table. “Robbin’ trains are a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but she did some diggin’. The take should be real good. ‘Sides, I have a few ideas for it.”

“Fine,” Arthur says. He glances at you before leaving with John, heading for the other side of camp. You clutch your cane and start preparing yourself to walk back to Arthur’s tent.

“Well, well,” says a greasy voice from behind you. “Looks like Ms. High-and-Mighty decided to grace us with her presence and leave her cozy little tent!”

You turn and glare at Micah.

He sneers at you. “Was wonderin’ when you’d finally leave Morgan’s cot. Not that I’m surprised. I thought you’d have invited him into your bed a long time ago.”

You stand up as straight as you can, ignoring the pain. “I ain’t that kind of girl, Mr. Bell. Besides, I’d let him or anyone else in this camp in my bed before I’d ever let you even come close.”

He snickers. “Ya always did have a soft spot for him, didn’t ya? Well, I hate to break it to ya, sweetheart, but he’s still got somethin’ for that Mary girl. Now I bet she’s a fine woman. The kind that could make a man wanna kill another man. Doubt anyone would even look twice at you if she were around.”

Your temper flares. You know he’s just trying to upset you. “How would you know, Micah? Ya ever seen her? I doubt it, the sight of you is enough to make anyone nauseous.”

Laughing again, he approaches you. “Because Morgan only goes after pretty girls.” He grins nastily at you as he leaves. You wish your leg was stronger, you’d already be giving him a good beating. Instead, you turn away and stare off into camp, trying to ignore what he said. The warm feeling you had before is gone. You clasp the cane again, heading back to the tent.

Night has come. Pearson, Karen and Uncle have pulled out bottles of alcohol to celebrate the return of Sean. The Irish man stands on a box, giving an almost taunting yet endearing speech about how everything’s going to be okay now he’s back. You can’t help laughing with the others as you lean on Pearson’s wagon. Karen approaches you with a bottle of whisky.

“Here, girl!” she proclaims, handing you the bottle.

“Nah, I really shouldn’t. I just took some more of those herbs Hosea’s been givin’ me, I doubt they’ll mix well with that.”

“Ah, don’t be so worried! ‘Sides, it can’t hurt too much.” She winks and shoves the bottle in your hand and you take a sip. She walks off, swaying a bit.

You grasp your cane and walk over to the campfire slowly. Uncle, Sean, Javier, Pearson and Arthur sit around it, drinking and joking. As you sit next to Arthur, Uncle breaks out into song.

“When I was just a lad, you know, I met a gal from Blue Bordeaux, she had blonde hair and blue eyes too,” he starts and the others join in the song. You can’t help but laugh at the heavily inappropriate song, drinking more.

“That’s what ya call the ring dang do!” the men finish, roaring with laughter.

“Yer a dirty man!” Arthur chuckles as you hand him the bottle. He takes a long drink as Dutch calls from his tent.

“That’s all well and said, but how about something a bit more civilized?” He turns around and switches on his gramophone. Classical music sweeps over the camp. Arthur gets up to go and speak to John and Charles. You stand up, too, leaving your bottle behind. You don’t really want to drink anymore, despite the fire in your belly. You find yourself limping past Dutch’s tent and stop when you see the man dancing slowly with Ms. O’Shea. They laugh sweetly when Dutch twirls her around. You can’t help but smile.

Arthur wanders past you, finishing a bottle of beer. You call his attention to Dutch and Molly.

“They seem so sweet together,” you mumble, your head feeling a little misty. “Y’know, I never known how to dance.”

He looks at you curiously. “Well, I ain’t much of a dancer neither, but ya wanna try?”

You stare up into his eyes, unsure. “I don’t know, Arthur, with this leg…”

“Ah, don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll help ya.”

He offers you his hand. You toss your cane a few feet away and take it. You reach up and place your hand on his sturdy shoulder as his hand hesitantly slides onto your waist. He starts leading you around in a slow circle. The mixture of herbs and alcohol has greatly dulled the pain from your legs as well as your regular inhibitions, although you still limp. He takes his hand from your waist, bending you down backwards and pulling you back up, releasing a giggle from you.

“Well, Mr. Morgan,” you laugh. “I never knew you could be so graceful!”

He huffs. “Turns out I’m just full of surprises.”

He leads you in a circle again, breaking it up every once in a while with a dip or a flourish. Your heart flutters every time, you can’t help but breathe in his scent and gaze into his blue eyes.

The pain in your leg is starting to flare, making you long for the bottle of whisky, when Arthur grabs your hands and twirls you around delicately. He spins you back towards him and pulls you in close, enveloping you in his strong arms. You wrap your arms around his waist, tucking your head under his chin. The sound of his heart pumps fast in your ears. You feel your own beating a thousand miles a minute. His arms wrap tighter around you as he sways you back and forth, no longer circling. Despite all the efforts you’ve made to not let him know how you feel, you revel in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feeling of his cheek resting on your head. You never want this moment to stop as you close your eyes.

The music suddenly ends, you hear Dutch compliment Molly. Arthur’s arms relax, releasing you. You have to adjust your leg quickly so you don’t stumble, taking your weight back and feeling somehow colder. His eyes are hidden beneath his hat, but he’s wearing a smile.

“Sorry if that was a little too close for comfort, Y/N,” he sighs. “I just… been wantin’ to do that for a while now.”

You giggle, unable to hide the blush crawling up your cheeks. “No, Arthur, that was… well, it was nice.”

You stretch up as much as you can and kiss him on the cheek, turning away to watch Karen lead Sean into John’s tent.

Two weeks have gone by since Sean’s party. The ambience in the camp has shifted; it’s become lighter and happier. At night, the sounds of laughter often echo from the campfire. Your mood has greatly improved as well, now that you’re no longer restricted to Arthur’s tent. You’ve been moved back into your own for nearly a week after Grimshaw declared your leg is healed enough to withstand lying on the ground. You still have to walk around with the cane sometimes, but you can go for a period of time without it.

You’re standing at the washbin, scrubbing at some dishes when you hear a familiar snort. You turn and see Arthur riding in. He smiles widely at you when he sees you, and you return it without hesitating. Ever since the night Sean came back and the two of you danced together, your friendship has blossomed. Of course, it has also deepened your feelings for him, although you’re still reluctant to mention or even show it. You’ve become conflicted by his behavior though. When the two of you are hidden from the eyes of the others in camp, Arthur will usually grab your hand or put his hand on your shoulder or back. Sometimes he’ll even pull you into a quick hug.

He approaches you, rubbing his hands together.

“There she is!” he says happily. You return his greeting.

“How’s yer leg?” he asks, putting his hands on his gun belt. You turn your face back to the water, blushing. Nothing makes you want to wrap your arms around him more than when he stands like that.

“‘S doin’ good!” you say, continuing to scrub. “I’ve hardly had to use my cane today.”

“Well, good, I’m glad. Say, ya wanna go into town?”

You look back at him. “God, I’d love to. So sick of seein’ this camp.”

“Let’s go then,” he says turning away and going back to his horse. You begin to follow, limping a bit, but then stopping as he hops onto the saddle. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate. “I don’t know if I can ride a horse yet, Arthur, with my leg.”

“We’ll go slow, darlin’,” he says, reaching his hand towards you. “Just let me know if it gets to be too much.”

You grab his arm and he lifts you up behind him, not letting you go until you’re situated. Your thigh twinges a bit, but the pain is manageable. You nervously slither your arms around his abdomen. He turns Artemis down the trail, walking her slow. When he gets to the main trail, he turns to you.

“How ya doin’?”

“Good. You might be able to go faster, actually.”

He kicks Artemis into a trot; she picks up the pace, swishing her long, black tail. He keeps her at that pace all the way into town.

You almost admit that you’ve missed seeing the muddy town and its simple folk, but then you realize that even after six weeks, nothing can really improve this dump named Valentine. He slows Artemis to a walk as the two of you pass the train station and livestock yard. You see a large, white tent to the left up ahead.

“What is that?” you ask, never really having paid attention to it before.

“Think it’s one of them movin’ pictures I been hearin’ folk talk about,” he answers, pulling up to it.

“I never seen one of them before,” you admit, taking one of your hands away from his waist.

“Well, let’s change that,” you can hear by the tone of his voice he’s smiling. He stops Artemis outside the tent and swings his leg over her head, slipping off. He puts up his arms, helping you off. Your stumble a bit as your leg adjusts to the weight, but he doesn’t let go of you. Once you’re balanced, he offers you his arm and walks you up to a man standing behind a desk, offering tickets. He pays $2 for them and walks you inside.

Inside, the tent has a projector pointed at the opposite wall, rows of seats filed under the projector’s beam. You pick two seats; there’s only a couple of other people in the tent. Just as the two of you sit down, the show starts as the electric lights dim. It consists of nothing more than some images with some type of moving element. A man narrates over the scenes, telling the tale about why the bear hibernates during winter. You’re fascinated; you’ve never seen an image move before.

As you’re watching, Arthur lifts up his arm as he scratches the back of his neck. He then drapes it behind your head, resting his hand on your shoulder. You lean into him, feeling your cheeks grow hot. You’re glad the tent is dark so he can’t see.

The show ends, the lanterns glowing again. Arthur removes his arm as the two of you stand. He smiles at you as he hides his eyes under his hat again. You take hold of his hand as you both walk out and back to Artemis. He lifts you back onto her then climbs up in front of you, carrying on to the middle of town.

He hitches Artemis outside the saloon, helping you off. The two of you head inside and he buys you dinner, despite your comments that you can buy your own food.

“Ya think ya might be up for a huntin’ trip soon?” he asks as you both eat.

You pause, chewing. “I dunno, I hope so. Be nice to get out again for a few days. I just… don’t know if…”

“I know, yer worried about yer leg. But ya seem to be doin’ good. I bet ya can handle it. ‘Sides, ya deserve to get out. Been cooped up in Horseshoe too long.”

You smile at him. “Well, there’s that then. Only problem is I don’t have any weapons anymore. Those damn monsters took ‘em when they… after I got captured.”

“Well,” he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Gun smith is right ‘cross the road. Bet we could get ya another bow, maybe some guns.”

“That’s a fine thought, Arthur,” you say, taking the last bite of your lamb. “‘Cept, I doubt I got enough money. And before ya say it, I don’t want ya spendin’ anymore money on me.”

He laughs softly. “A’right, fine.”

You nod your head, happy that’s settled. The two of you head out of the saloon.

“Ya mind if I go get a bath? I haven’t had a proper one for far too long,” you say. He nods his head, saying he’ll go back into the saloon and order some drinks while you’re gone. You go and order a bath. Before you enter the water, you take off the bandage from around your thigh. Grimshaw showed you weeks ago how to change it, which must be done every couple of days. You go to a tall mirror in the corner of the room, turning around and twisting your neck so you can inspect the wound. It’s ugly, but at least the stitches are gone. You frown at the angry red line that marks where you were shot by the arrow. You tell yourself it could have been a lot nastier; at least the wound didn’t get infected.

You sink down into the tub, sighing happily as you scrub the old sweat and dirt from your skin. You get up, dry yourself off, and redress your leg. You head outside, thanking the hotel clerk as you exit, and see Arthur standing next to Artemis, holding a Springfield rifle. You approach him, wondering what he’s up to, when he hands you the rifle.

“What’s this?” you ask, taking hold of it. You realize it’s brand new. The metal’s carved with intricate, weaving patterns, and there’s an engraving of a wolf in the handle.

“‘S for you,” he responds.

“What? Arthur! I told ya not to buy me anything!”

He guffaws. “”S too late now! ‘Sides, I wanted to. Also, got ya this.”

He hands you a bow and a quiver of arrows. You blush, sighing deeply. You feel frustrated yet grateful. “Why are you doin’ this, Arthur? I coulda gotten these myself.”

“I know. I just wanted to.” You sigh, defeated before leaning up and place a kiss on his cheek. You notice the red on his cheeks, but say nothing.

He hops onto Artemis, offering to take your new weapons back to strap onto Artemis. You hand them to him, resigned and hop on behind him with his help. The two of you trot back to camp as the sun begins to descend. When Arthur hitches Artemis and dismounts, he speaks up.

“So, tomorrow sound good for huntin’?” He helps you off again, not letting go of your hand.

Smiling, you answer. “Of course. One question, though. I… obviously don’t have a horse anymore. How are we going to work around that?”

“I’m shoar ya could borrow a horse from camp. Plenty a people here ain’t gonna be usin’ theirs for the next few days.”

You shrug your shoulders.

You’re lying in your tent, the singing of birds and the cool air gently waking you from your sleep. You hear someone walking towards your tent. Arthur’s deep voice calls your name. You sit up and peak out of your tent.

The sky above his head is still dark but the horizon is fading into a soft, light blue, rivaling the color of Arthur’s eyes.

“Ya ready to go?” he asks.

“Now? This early?”

“‘Course,” he smiles. “We can get more time in if we leave now.”

You stand up, stretching and putting on your hat. You’re glad that you had approached Hosea the night before asking to take out one of the draft horses that usually pulls the wagons. He also offered you a spare saddle and bridle to take. You go groom a large dun Belgian Draft, strapping the saddle to her and fitting on the bridle. She stomps her foot, making you a bit nervous. You swallow, gather your courage and mount her, your leg only twinging a little. Arthur comes up, strapping on his satchel, smiling.

“Got on yer own just fine, did ya?”

You smile and nod, patting the mare’s neck.

He hops onto Artemis and the two of you head down the trail at an easy trot. You’ve no idea where he’s leading you, but you follow him obediently, enjoying the sweeping views of New Hanover: the distant river, the wide canyon, the orange that is beginning to take over the sky. He leads you up into Valentine and passes the stables, trotting merrily down the faint trail which winds down the hill and towards the river. The two of you cross it, glancing at the sound of a man in a nightgown standing waist-deep in the river, screaming at some invisible being to get away.

You both continue on until you reach an intersection in the trail, heading up the mountain. The temperature begins to drop slightly, and far up ahead on the mountain you see distant trees topped in snow.

The trail levels out and you head down the left side, travelling along it until a pond comes into view. Arthur slows to a stop and you do as well, admiring the sight. The wide pond is beautiful, rippling calmly, its far banks flanked by deer and ducks. You spot the arching antlers of an elk in a nearby copse of small pines. On the other side of the pond, the land rises up into a tall mound, topped with a ram and multiple bighorn sheep, browsing among the trees. You look to the left, to the open grass sloping down the hills and towards the train tracks tucked into a gorge.

“Arthur, this place is beautiful,” you say.

He turns back to see you. “Found it right before we left Colter. This the place we tried robbin’ that Cornwall train. This is Cattail Pond.”

You lead the dun mare to the water. She dips her head and drinks as you dismount, removing the bow and quiver. You adjust your gunbelt slightly, making sure the knife is still in place. You’re happy these things got saved, along with your sawed-off shotgun.

Arthur pats Artemis, telling her to stay put. He approaches you, situating his own bow.

“Now, if ya need anythin’, ya just call me.”

You nod, the both of you wandering into separate directions to hunt.

By midafternoon, you approach the large mare, heaving an elk pelt onto her bag. She snorts as you strap it down, swishing her tail. You glance up the hill towards the main trail and you see silhouettes of horses, grazing. You pull out your binoculars and zoom in on them. You spot a pure black saddler, a palomino, and a dun Appaloosa stallion, his hindquarters heavily spotted. For some reason, you can’t take your eyes off him. You study him as he raises his head, snorts and then goes back to grazing. Arthur approaches you, a white ram pelt tucked under his arm.

“What ya lookin’ at?”

You point ahead at the stallion. “That horse. He’s real pretty. I always had a soft spot for Appys.”

He pulls out his binoculars and looks with you. He lowers them and turns to you.

“Well, go get it then.”

“Huh?” “Go get it!” he says, gesturing to the horse. “Go get on his back and tame him. Bet ya won’t even have to try hard.”

You look at him doubtfully. “Arthur, even with a good leg, I don’t think I could do that. No way I’m coordinated enough. ‘Sides, I wouldn’t even know the first thing.”

“Ya even been bucked off before?”

“Oh yeah. Rain’s mom bucked me once. Flew off and landed like a sack of potatoes.”

He chuckles. “It really ain’t that hard sweetheart.” He goes on to explain how to break a mustang, to maintain your balance until the horse tires out.

“C’mon, girl. How ‘bout I lasso him, ya get on his back. We’ll work together.”

You hesitantly agree. Arthur pulls out his long rope, already knotted. He gestures for you to follow him, hunching slightly. The two of you sneak up the hill slowly, walking as quietly as possible. When you’re close enough, you call out to the stallion, Arthur stopping behind you.

“Easy boy!” you call. “Easy.”

His head launches up as he snorts heavily. He stomps his feet, his ears darting in every direction. You walk towards him slowly, your arms slightly raised.

“Stay calm, boy. I just wanna make friends. You’re real pretty.”

Surprisingly, the stallion doesn’t run but he continues to stomp, tail flicking. You get closer, almost within patting distance, when he rears up. You quickly take several steps back when Arthur’s lasso flies up and over his head, wrapping around his neck.

“Now, Y/N!” he yells.

You dash over and launch yourself onto his back. The stallion begins bucking and plunging, roaring in anger. You grab hard onto his mane, twisting and turning your body to maintain balance. He rears again, nearly throwing you. You clutch to his neck as Arthur yells at you to hang on. He slams back into the ground, you feel yourself start to slide over his side when Arthur catches you, pushing you back onto him.

“There,” he says, breathing hard. “Think ya wore him out.”

The stallion stomps his feet again, tossing his head. You straighten yourself up, patting his neck.

“There,” you pant and pat his neck. “We’re friends now.” You reach into your saddle, offering him a treat.

“That was real good, Y/N,” Arthur praises. He tells you to stay on his back as he leads the horse to the other two. For the next few hours, the two of you work together with the horse, getting him used to being touched. By the time the sun sets, you’ve managed to get the bridle and saddle from the Belgian onto him. You hitch him to the tree as Arthur sets up his tent, spreading out your bedrolls. You pat the horse fondly before turning and kneeling next to the fire.

After cooking a few hunks of meat, the both of you decide to call it a night. Your thigh is sore and achy from the strains of taming the appaloosa. You limp over to the tent, sighing as you lie down. Arthur settles himself behind you. You twist your body so you’re lying on your back. You face him, your eyes already growing tired.

“Night, Arthur,” you sigh, closing your eyes. You feel his hand takes yours as he bids you goodnight.

It’s still dark when you wake, but you can tell by the songs of the birds that morning is near. Your leg hurts quite a bit, which is probably why you’re awake so early. You force yourself to get up, going to Arthur’s grill where the fire was, even though all that is left is a pile of smoldering coals. You reignite it with some nearby dried pine needles. You add some grounded herbs for the pain to a tin cup, adding some hot water from Arthur’s percolator to it. You drink it quickly, despite the awful taste. You add some coffee to the percolator, drinking that as well.

Despite the early hour, you’re wide awake. You hoist yourself up, grunting a bit, and approach the appaloosa stallion still hitched to the tree. You feel a tightening in your gut when he grumbles a deep, happy snort at you, reaching for your outstretched hand with his muzzle. You offer him a treat, patting his neck. You admire the fine white hairs on the back half of his body, the smattering of brown spots. You suddenly feel inspired.

You turn away and take a seat by a large log near the water of the pond. You pull out the journal from your satchel and turn to a blank page. You start to sketch the horse, trying to match the delicate lines of his neck, his slender legs, the long tail. You can see in your head how Arthur would have drawn it since he’s shown you a number of his own drawings. You stop and see your work, feeling unimpressed and dissatisfied. You sigh, disappointed.

“How ya doin’ with that?” Arthur says, plopping himself next to you.

You smile. “It’s crap.” You show him the sloppy lines. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

“Let me help ya,” he says, putting an arm behind you. You flip to a new page and he takes your hand in his, guiding the pencil along the page. Every now and then, he’ll point to the horse, drawing your attention to certain details. He shows you techniques to bring out different textures and patterns. After only a few moments, the shape and details of the stallion begins to appear.

The sun is well-risen now, illuminating his face, his scruffy beard turning gold. He’s so close you can see the scar of his chin once more, the specks of green in his blue eyes.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you almost whisper. “None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you.”

You can’t stand it anymore You don’t want to hide your feelings for him. So what if he doesn’t feel anything for you? All you want is to show the entire world how you feel about Arthur Morgan. You take your hand from his, reaching up and placing it on his cheek. You almost expect him to pull back, but he doesn’t. You glance briefly at his lips before you stretch up and place your own against them. You breathe in deeply, absorbing his scent as he stiffens to your touch. You pull away. Well, he knows what you think of him now.

You open your eyes; his face is unreadable. You let your hand slip from his face, feeling a sinking in your chest. You fool, you think. Of course he wouldn’t want this, your kiss. You distance yourself more from him, looking down.

“I… I’m sorry, Arthur,” you say. You snap your journal shut, sliding the pencil back into the leather strip quickly. “I didn’t mean to…”

As you begin to stand up, his hand suddenly reaches and gently touches your neck, pulling you to him. His lips crash into yours as his other arm wraps around your shoulders. You reach up and loop your arms around his neck, memorizing his lips with your tongue. His hand leaves your cheek and knots into your hair.

You pull away from him, panting heavily. He places his forehead against yours.

“Ya’ve no idea how long I been wantin’ to do that, darlin’,” he mutters deeply. The sound of his voice sends shivers up your spine.

“You don’t have to want anymore, Arthur Morgan,” you sigh. He leans in and kisses you again. You kiss him back hard, pressing yourself into him. His arms pull you into his broad chest. You kiss one another until you’re forced to pull back again by the need to breathe. He guides your head to settle onto his shoulder and you cuddle into him, your arms still wrapped around his neck.

You both sit there, watching the sun climb higher into the sky. His hand traces patterns into your back as you brush your hands through his hair.

After a while, he pats your back.

“Ya ready to go hunt again, sweetheart?” he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm. Do we have to? It’s perfect here.”

He laughs softly, the sound reverberating through you. “I know, darlin’. I don’t want this moment to end either. But camp’s gotta eat.”

You sigh heavily. Arthur Morgan, the outlaw who would break his own back to make sure the people he cares about are taken care of. You reach up and place one more kiss to his lips before standing up. He follows your lead, grabbing his hat from the tent before wandering over to Artemis to remove his bow. You grab yours as well, scanning the environment for signs of animals.

For the next few hours, the two of you go about, bringing down animals and butchering them. You aren’t as smooth with the bow as usual. You keep getting distracted by the memory of Arthur’s lips against yours.

You stalk a whitetail buck near the train tracks. You hide in a clump of bushes and see him grazing. You notch an arrow and take aim for him. You let the arrow fly; it plunges into his side. The buck falls, but then stands up again, running off. You follow as quickly as you can, ignoring the pain in your leg. He falls again after a few yards, brought down by blood loss and shock. You approach him, trying to ignore his cries. You kneel down, pulling out your knife.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” you say, knowing how painful it is to be struck by an arrow. You plunge the knife into his heart. You skin the carcass and start heading back up the hill towards the pond and the horses. By the time you reach the top of the rise, you’re panting heavily; your thigh burns. You sit down to give yourself a break. Arthur calls to you from across the pond in the trees. You can’t understand what he’s saying, but you wave your hand to show you heard him. He calls again, and again you wave.

You start massaging your leg through your jeans, trying to soothe the pain. You hear splashing and look up. Arthur’s wading across the pond up to his calves, coming towards you. He calls to you again from the bottom of the hill.

“Ya a’right?” he yells.

“Yeah, leg’s just being a pain.”

He climbs the hill, approaching you. He kneels next to you, looking hard at your leg.

“I’m a’right,” you say. “Like I said, leg’s bein’ difficult.”

He looks up into your eyes. He sighs heavily. ��Maybe we oughta head back. Ya ain’t much use huntin’ if ya can’t walk.”

“I can walk, just need a break, Arthur,” you say indignantly.

“I know, darlin’. Ya have to remember yer still healin’. Do this for me?”

You sigh, defeated. “Fine. Let’s just see if we can bring back something whole for camp.”

He nods, helping you stand up. He takes the pelt from you then grabs your hand as you both wander over to the horses. He throws the pelt over the stallion.

“Ya thought of a name for yer boah?”

You bite your lip. “Yeah, maybe.”

He looks at you, waiting for you to say. When you don’t, he speaks. “Well?”

“Rannoch,” you finally say. “His name is Rannoch.”

He raises his brows. “Rannoch, huh? Where’d ya get that?”

You shuffle your feet. “My grandma used to read me a story. ‘Bout a stag named Rannoch, born the night his dad was born. I wish I could remember the name of the book. I’d love to read it again. Was my favorite.”

“I like it,” he says, putting a finger under your chin, lifting your face. “Suits him.”

You smile, glancing over to Rannoch. He flicks his tail, eating from a bush, completely uncaring about his name.

“Well, let’s do a bit more huntin’,” he says. You agree and the two of you head back out, away from one another. After several moments of stalking, you bring down a bighorn sheep. You bend down to pick it up, but as you start standing your leg gives out.

“Shit!” you yell as your knee slams into the ground, the carcass slumping back down. You feel your wound quickly, determining that it’s fine. Turns out your leg just isn’t strong enough to carry the extra weight. Arthur comes dashing out of the trees, attracted by your yell.

“I’m fine,” you holler as you stand up, testing your leg. “Will you help me? I can’t carry this thing.”

Arthur approaches, smiling mischievously as he lifts up the sheep onto his shoulder with ease. You follow him back to the horses, where he straps the sheep onto Rannoch.

“I’ll be back,” he says, walking back into the trees. You brush Rannoch while he’s gone. After several moments, he returns, hauling the body of a doe. He straps it to Artemis. You both saddle up the horses and mount up. Arthur puts a lasso around the Belgian Draft, pulling her along behind him as the two of you leave Cattail and head back to camp.

The sun has set when you both enter the trees to Horseshoe. Karen’s on guard duty, she calls to you.

“Nice horse!”

You thank her as the two of you go up the trail, approaching the hitching post. You dismount, then turn to Arthur. The two of you are standing between the horses, blocked from view of the camp.

“Arthur?” He turns. “Thanks for takin’ me out and for… everything else.”

He smiles, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Anythin’ for you, darlin’. Can I ask you a favor, though?”

“‘Course.”

“D’you mind if we keep this between us for now?” You pull away, surprised and even a little hurt. He must see your emotions on your face.

“It ain’t that I’m ashamed,” he scrambles, pulling you close. “I just… want to keep this quiet for now. Besides, we both know how the others will talk. And maybe I like the idea of havin’ ya to myself for now”

You chuckle, relaxing in his arms. “Yes, I do know. But promise me it won’t be long?”

He smiles, pulling you into a tight hug. “I promise.” He leans down to kiss you, shielded from the others by the horses and the darkness.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x oc #Van Der Linde Gang #rockstar games #r* games #it's so fluffy i'm gonna die!#i'm awkward #second chances

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slvtbible · 5 years

Text

‘sunflower is as pretty as a rose’

(VALENTINE’S DAY SPECIAL)

Summary: 19’year old Harry has a crush on you and asks you to be his Valentine

Warning: Very short!

Harry likes you. No, he loves you.

There is no denying that the way he blushes or stutter everytime you walk pass or talk to him. He gets butterflies in his stomach and he feels his heart beats louder everytime he hears you laugh,

No one knows about his crush except for his best friend in uni, Max. Well, him and his sister. He tries to hide it everyday and pushes his feelings away because he knows deep down, there is no way he can have the chance to be with you. It’s impossible,

Harry is already labeled as a ‘nerd’, ‘geek’, ‘clumsy’, ‘dumbass’ you name it. And it’s all coming from the cocky football players at campus. They love to tease him, pushes him against the locker, beats him until his glasses are broken and he has changed for about three times now.

Then, there’s you. The smart, beautiful, kind, Y/N. The cheerleader captain and the girlfriend of Keith Meyers, the jock who participates on bullying and beating up Harry with the rest of his friends. He tries to mask the hurt every time he sees him grabbing you and kisses you in the hallway,

But yours and Keith’s relationship only lasts for six months. Rumor has it, that you broke up because you hated the way Keith treated Harry just because he’s all smart and quiet. When Max breaks the news to Harry, he’s shocked but he ignores it and insists that it wasn’t because of him.

He shares a class with you in politics and human rights reform. And he’s completely in love how you always voice your opinions whenever you’re disagree with a topic in class and you’re not afraid to create a vision or solve a case with your own logical ways. To him it’s completely attractive and admirable,

But one thing that he can’t get it out of his head is how you always so nice to him. Not for homeworks or notes, just genuinely nice. Smiling at him, saying hello such as ‘hi harry’ or lending him a pen if he forgets to bring one. You’re truly the nicest and the prettiest girl on campus.

Today is Valentine’s day. The campus hall has been decorated in red and pink posters shaped hearts with balloons floating, almost taking up the space of the hallway and it’s truly suffocating. But he has plans. He has a plan on giving you Valentine’s gifts today and he’s never been more nervous.

He knows that you might have got a lot of expensive gifts from the boys in campus. They’re all obsessed with you so he can’t blame them. Still, he feels like you’re going to appreciate them no matter what and it makes his heart calms a little.

“You know he can kill you right?” Max asks, looking down at the paper bag Harry brings.

The gifts contains homemade poems—not love, of course—, cherry flavored heart shaped lollipop, mixtape filled with your favorite songs/artists and a sunflower.

Why did he get a sunflower? No idea. But he thinks that roses are too common now so he bought a sunflower instead.

Harry keeps his eyes glued on the notebook, writing down notes. “I don’t know who you’re talking about”

Max rolls his eyes at his lack of paying attention. “Keith. Who else? If he finds out, he’ll hunt you down” he nudges Harry’s stomach lightly. “It doesn’t matter if the two of them broke up, he’s still going to think of her as his girl.”

Harry merely shrugs, but deep down he knows Max is speaking only the truth. Keith will kill him but all of that doesn’t matter. He’s still going to give them to you.

“Then he’s psychopath. He should leave her alone then, it’s not my fault. I like her and it’ll be just a simple giving gift, not like anything would happened between us anyway.”

“Dude” Max starts, grabbing his shoulder to get him to look up and when he does, he says “You still don’t get it do you? Y/N likes you too! You’re so daft sometimes, need to i remind you that she broke up with that asshole because of you? I mean-he didn’t know but it’s all true! She wants you too man!”

He shakes his head, removing his friend’s grip from his shoulder and continue writing his notes. As much as he wants to believe that, there is no way Y/N could’ve like him. Just, no.

“Not true. You should have never listened to the rumors. They don’t know jack shit about what’s going on around here, Max.” He reasons,

But Max stays true to his statement, mainly because he knows something that Harry doesn’t and he can’t wait for his best friend to finds out later this afternoon,

“Whatever you say”

It’s later than afternoon,

Almost 4 o’clock, because he just finds out that you have a cheerleader practice after your class ends. And he doesn’t want to wait until tomorrow, he hates stalling and if he lets another day goes by, he won’t be giving the presents to you because he’s too scared and nervous that he might get rejected,

But he knows you. Not personally but he knows you. The nicest one out of your friends, literally the only girl who won’t make fun of his stutter or glasses or how he always keeps his nose hidden behind books.

You actually find it cute and attractive when a guy reads. Meaning, guys who reads and pay attention aren’t exactly assholes and ignorant like rest of male population in campus.

Harry is now standing about twenty feet away from you, hiding himself behind a pole so he can’t be seen. Yet.

He curses to himself when he sees you still talking with your cheerleader friends, the people who makes his life miserable. But the frown on his lips twitch into a smile when he hears you laugh. The laugh that he fonds of for the past year studying together in the same campus.

After ten minutes of doubting himself on wether he should come up to you or not, he finally decides that it’s better for him to approach you now,

“Fuck it” he whispers to himself,

He’ll ignore the snickers, laughs and name callings that are coming from your friends. It’s not like he will give it to them, so why does it matter?

As he gets closer, the laughter and chatters slow down when their judging eyes falls on his lanky figure. Looking at him up and down as if he’s one of the most disgraced creature that has ever walked on earth,

You see your friends aren’t paying attention to you anymore, their eyes shifts on what’s behind you, so you turn around and the smile on your lips is widen when you see the guy you like standing there awkwardly, holding a pink paperbag,

“Harry? Hi! What are you doing here?” You ask, walking over to him with your hands clasp behind your back,

For some reason, you find yourself extremely nervous standing in front of him. You never stand this close to him,

He smiles shyly, gesturing the bag in his hand. “Hi Y/N. Uhm, i know you may have received expensive gifts from other boys in campus but uh, i brought something for you.” He scratches the back of his neck nervously, eyes looking down,

Your heart melts at how generous he is. Looking all shyly while carrying the gift he’s brought for you, you’re trying so hard to contain your blush and it’s a good thing he’s looking down, otherwise you won’t know how to handle it,

“As if Y/N wants those from you” One of her girl-friends shouts causing the other to bursts into giggles, except for one girl named Maya,

She frowns and looks up to them with shady eyes. “Girl, shut up. He’s just coming here to give something, don’t be jealous just cause y’all ain’t got valentines today”

With that, all of them shut up with their cheeks heated in embarrassment. They continue to do their small chats with eachother, leaving Maya out of it. And she’s glad,

Harry blushes in embarrassment, hiding the gift back behind his back quickly, trying to avoid anymore rude comments from her friends,

You notice how embarrassed he is and your heart breaks at the sight. This boy right here is just trying to give you Valentine’s day gifts and your friends had the nerve to bring him down just like that. They truly are pathetic,

Except for Maya. Because she’s actually rooting for you and Harry together, plus her boyfriend Zayn is telling her to set you two up for a coffee date or something. Yes. Zayn Malik. The football quarterback who’s not an asshole,

“Don’t mind them, Harry. They all dicks anyways. Well apart from Maya, that is.” You assure him, tucking your slightly dampen hair behind your ear. “What is it again you wanna tell me Harry?”

“Oh yeah! Uhm- well as i was saying, i know you may have gotten alot of Valentine’s today, but i want to give you something too.” He smiles shyly, studying your face to see if you’re disgusted and tell him to go off,

But you don’t. Instead you smile back, biting your lip as you try hard not to grin because he looks so cute and adorable stammering like that,

“Okay” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes. Smile still as wide as before, you can’t hardly wait to see what Harry has in store for you.

“I uh, wrote a poem for you. Also there’s a mixtape that i made and it fills with your favorite 90s RnBs artists because i heard you like them. So, there’s Aaliyah, Boyz II Men, Alicia Keys, Britney Spears, Tupac, TLC and there’s more but i can’t remember” he says, chuckling nervously as he takes out the tape. “But there’s Jhene Aiko, LANY and BJ The Chicago Kid there too. Heard you like them. And i got you a sunflower, because i think roses are too common now. I hope that’s okay.”

You truly have no idea what to say. Your mouth parts a little but there’s no words coming from it. How could someone so unbelievably cute and adorable like him cares about those small details? How could someone took their time to acknowledge that and sweet enough to put your favorite artists in a mixtape? How could someone knows you prefer sunflowers over roses?

Harry is not your closest friend. Just simple acquaintances being polite and say hello everytime you walk pass him. So you have no idea that Harry knows all of this, but you would be lying if you say all of this didn’t make your heart beat 100x times faster,

“I agree. And i happen to like sunflowers. You’re really sweet Harry, thank you so much.” You smile at him, feeling your body is about to collapse,

He gives you a shrug and shows his dimpled smile. “It’s nothing really. You deserve to be treated like a princess once in a while.” And gives you the bag

Oh, Lord. You swear your heart is about to fall out of your chest,

You take the bag from his hands and holds it dearly to your chest. “Harry... you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, really. I just-wow”

He breathes out a shaky laugh, shoving his hands on the pockets of his jeans,

“Well i try.”

The two of you share a small laugh after, then it’s quite. You wait for him to say something else other than that, but as he doesn’t say anything, you decide to speak up,

“Do you have a crush on me, Harry?”

“What?”

You smile, “just answer the question”

He seems to freeze for a while and stutter out, “uh, no. W-who umh-who told you that?” He laughs nervously,

“Your best friend, Max told me.”

He mentally face palms as he tries not to burst out in anger. He’s definitely making a mental note to kill him later,

“I, uh... i think so... yeah” he mumbles, looking away afraid that he might get rejected,

However, you smile at his cute stutter and decides to confess how you feel about him as well,

“Well, i like you too”

“Huh?” He looks up quickly, clearly not expecting that answer and still not sure if you’re playing with him or not. “You what?”

“I like you too, Harry”you say it again, this time with a giggle. To let him know that you’re not joking at all, “so, is that something you just want to tell me or is there something else?”

Harry feels his heart thumping and his whole body goes numb. Because he’s standing here and just heard the most beautiful and nicest girl he has a crush on, saying that she feels the same way and this is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

To hear you say, you like him. He truly gets his dream girl now,

He grins, blush creeping on his cheeks and finally ask you something that he’s been waiting to ask for a long time.

“Will you be my Valentine? And go out on a date with me tonight?”

With a smile, you grab his hand and gives a soft kiss on his cheek,

“I would love to”

This sucks:( but i love Valentine’s Day! What did you guys get? I got bunch of chocolates and notes from my friends and they truly are the most precious people in the world, AND i got a Valentine’s chocolate and letter from my crush!! i still can’t believe it happened HAHA

Anyway hope you guys like this and please give me feedbacks babies! Love you!❤️

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry imagine #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shots #harry fics #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst

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fairysmolsxoxo · 5 years

Text

Unwarranted Destruction before Halloween!

MOMMA JADE GET HURT BUT GET NEW BITTIES AND ITEMS TO ADD TO THE SHOP!

It was a quiet evening at the shop,with Al managing the front and the little market while Jade is away on business. It was slow and the caretaker decided to get some new ingredients for the new items to introduce into the shop. Halloween is coming up after all and the shop itself is pretty empty. The shopkeeper and alpha dragon skeleton bitty agreed that it will be a nice change of pace...And there is hardly any excitement in the front end, while in the back in the her packs and prides is a whole different story. So Jade gave him the duty of being the Shop Manager for the time being.Though it was getting late, Jade usually comes back around this time yet none have yet to see her. Al was getting worried, he even called up Shy and the other adoption centers that Jade had recently visited but no one had seen her…

That until... there was an explosion coming from Jade's living quarters...And the sound of a familiar yet eerie scream of pain echoed throughout the shop...It made all the bitties magical essence that all their creators that put the time and love into, to give them life? It felt like all their life had been sucked out of them when they know who's scream it was…

Jade.

Every submissive and child bitty started to cry confused and scared at the scary scream…

Why is Momma/Missus/Mistress/Jade screamed? Is she okay? She has to be right? Please be okay!

Every calm minded bitty quickly was set on alert as they went around to keep the rest of their pack safe and ready for the word of the alphas on their command… Some even started to patrol that area.

Every aggressive bitty that was kept away from the rest of them in their own started to claw their cages their doors was crawling their prison…The scent of blood and the scream made them have even more need for violence...

WHO HAD HURTED WHAT WAS THEIRS!

All the leaders of the packs and pride let out a snarl their body and soul screamed in the most primal way…

MUST PROTECT! MUST SAVE JADE!

Al teleported just a few feet away from the closed door of Jade's Room and He was soon joined up with the leaders of each pack and lone pride.

Navy, Jade's Alpha Sans "Prince" bitty and the Head of The Night Wind Whispers Pride was the second to appear before Al… He usually stoic and cold expression and personality that he had shown toward bitties that isn't in his pride and the other alphas is replaced with tense irritation and concern toward his caretaker as he nodded at Al in acknowledgement. Both Marigold, Jade's Alpha Papyrus " Stray" bitty who is in charge of the Blood Venom Sky Pack and Ramil, Jade's Alpha Grillby bitty, head of Golden Sun Burst Pride was sprinting quickly toward the room. Marigold was snarling as he charged through and slammed the door open, followed by his Alpha Leads. All of them cried out their fairy caretaker name to be greeted by the sight of her room in shambles and abominations in what was left of her room…

They did not see the fairy but a sobbing voice of the fairy made it clear...They need to defend...They need to protect...They need to kill…!

The Aftermath

It took awhile for the Alphas to get rid of the monstrosities but they made quick work, leaving a big mess behind...They were tired and tried to listen for the fairy but the sobbing stopped halfway during the battle...They calls out the fairy's name…

But no one answered…

That til a few moments of silence later, a pile of destroyed piles of rumble started to shift and shake as a figure started to get out and under it. It was Jade, clearly hurt with cuts but that wasn't the only thing that was different about her...She looked a little nightmarish than her usual self...She seems relieved for some reason but also annoyed as she tried to morph herself back toward her more friendly form...but it deemed useless...She was injured in a way that she can't control her magic to shift back to her usual form...It would take some time to heal and it is a little annoying...At least no one saw her true form when she was injured from earlier by the beasts...She never want anyone to see her like that...at least her appearance is much preferred and it matches with Halloween. She seems calm now and the Alphas quickly mothered her as soon as she stood out of the rumble...She whined at the attention as she eyed the remains of the abominations in what used to be her room and her doorway toward her lab…

Hours later… Jade appears with her more Halloween theme appearance with still a gentle smile on her face.

Jade: Hello my favorite dreamers…It is your friendly bitty loving dream fairy...I must apologize for my current appearance… It seems like my encounter with the unsavory sort, have made my magic glamour gone all haywire...So instead of taking off my glamour or overexerting myself with no desired results,I have managed to make a different appearance for the time being...just until my magic get sorted all out… Thank goodness for my adeptness in all sorts of dreams and illusions...So bonus points being a jack of all trades with that…

But worry not after all this experience, Al had made it his goal to keep me coop in the safety of the shop and quarantine my room and portal doors to the Realms...Just until things calm down I hope..

That being said… I hate being here… bored...with nothing to do...So I have some exciting news!

We got some new companions to add to the shop! Along with some amazing new staff who will be introducing these delightful yet spooky treats and exclusive items for the month of Halloween and The Days of the Dead!

Please come and introduce yourselves everyone!

Monty: Ello' I am Montgomery Duvall...Please call me Monty… I am human?At least from what I know…I used to have a business of my own...that I had to close down because…*He cleared his throat.* of my personal problems..I will be taking over as a part-time caretaker for Ms. Jade bitties at the store and would be taking care of the delicious confectionery and delights of the store… I have a bit of experience with management and done some cooking as a hobby… I also worked at a bitty center recently. So I have some experience in that department as well...

Jade: *pushed the old gentleman aside* He is much too humble I swear! He is going to be the entrepreneur who is going to help start up better alternatives for our bitties nutrition! So what you are going to see in our food display is going to be from his amazing mind!

Monty: *blushes* Ms. Jade please...no need to praise an old man like me…

Jade: Nonsense! You are an amazing human…

*Another figure stepped before them, a small timeless young Japanese woman stepped in a kimono. She look like any normal girl if only it weren't for her hair that seems to move around like it was a part of her...Like her hands…This was Mina, she was monster from where Jade was from. She was close acquaintances of Jade she still lived there...She was a Futakuchi onna...a yokai..Japanese spirit or monster… Even her hair was pulled up in a loose bun, what is hidden underneath will show you why she is a monster...*

Mina: Konnichiwa...I am Mina it is a pleasure to be here and be in presence… I am going to be Monty-san partner in the food department. I am the person who is going to help his ideas come to life in the things we cook. I am quite the expert when it comes to making food and tasting it. It will be quite desirable...I specialize magic infused food though I have experience in some human cuisine as well...

*Monty let out a sigh, having to deal with Mina quite well at this point, he knows of her sneaky eating habits… He could see the hungry glint in her eyes*

Monty: Ms. Mina...please refrain from eating our examples… We had to do several tiring and time consuming replacements, over the course of several accidents...

Mina: *Pouts* I have been good, what sort of person you think I am? * Both her and her new elderly acquaintance started to head back toward the small cafe located near the front desk of the bitty shoppe*

*Monty and Mina started to get the future item for this month in big trays…*

CAFE HOT ITEMS OF THE MONTH

FLUFFY PLUMPKIN FUDGE

This irresistible sweet is great for all humans and monsters all alike who like a little sweetness in your day or night.

This mildly buttery smooth,light yet creamy delight is excellent for this time of year when welcoming the autumn weather and scenery. Don't eat too much of this though, it may be good for the heart and soul but too much of this addicting sweet, will cause the bitty or humans get plump in certain areas like the stomach, chest, hips and rump…

SPOOKY SHADOW MANGO AND PINESONIOUS TART

This delicious sweet yet sour treat is literary borderline poisonous to make.One wrong move, this treat can be down right deadly. But if done right, it can be quite refreshingly sweet and have healing properties, especially toward other infections and heal terminally sick humans and bitties. Make sure that your chef is well versed in with their ingredients and a well educated doctor is nearby, just in case. Must sign a waiver if it just for the thrill or taste these delight. So are you are willing to take the risk and sign your death wish?

ABYSS MUSHROOM AND GARLIC STRUDEL

This pastry literary came from the abyss! Don't ask how our dreamy fairy got her hands on these rare ingredients to make these but do know it is quite a pain to get them. But it is the number one item back home that the majority females, foodie, health and fanatics sought for. This is a strudel not only it won't cause you to gain weight from eating it, but also eat your weight away. Well technically not eat away but store it elsewhere. Don't worry it effects are quite safe. It is all different for everyone but know this after a couple of days will stop it effects. Get it while it lasts!

STARBAKED BUN BUNS ASSORTED

This treat comes in sweet and savory fillings that makes you come back hungry for more. It's just that you need to have the speed and determination to catch it. Prefect for your more active bitties and humans that wants a little challenge catching their food or bitties have the need to hunt something “live”. As of right now for the month of halloween the bun buns will have a little more monstrous appearance and more of a spattering filling when bitten into.

FAIRY BERRIES

Inspired by the different fairies back home and words from another bitty caretaker that Jade looks up to , these little delightful creations are certainly fun to catch and eat. Having different various set of wings and fruits, these are perfect for staying in a healthy diet while having fun at the same time as you dance with these fluttery snacks. Ideal with bitties that want a little change in their meaty diet and have something sweet with still the fun of being the hunter. Great for baby bitties and beginners.

OVEN-BAKED FOG FOWL PIE

A savory tasty pie for all races, the fog fowl is quite hard to catch due to is shapeshifting way of hiding and avoiding beings, but true a delicacy back home for Jade. And a luxury item to make, once you eat this fowl beast, it will provide a sharpness of the mind and improvement of stamina and energy. This is great for those sluggish days off for both humans and monsters. You will have energy and stamina for days Get it now for a limited time only. These fowls are hard to come by after all. Side effects include a sudden lightheadedness, nausea, lack of sleep, and sudden fatigue out of nowhere. Basically crash and burn out of energy ten-fold. So heed this warning...

ASSORTED SKELE-WITCHES

Just decent stacked sandwiches made and shaped as your favorite skeletons of your choosing with witch/wizard hat or riding a broom. Made by human hands, Monty’s specifically. Safe for everyone...Monty works so hard on these...Don’t shame him...

CEREAL KILLER DONUT

Another Monty idea but infused with Mina magic, this scary horror pastry topped with your favorite cereal shaped into a little murderous killer that will come after you. But worry not, due to their squishy insides and their less than intimating "weapons", they will kill you with their cuteness instead. Little angry muffed yells and grunts as they try to kill you with their pretzel pitchforks… Will definitely make you scream in laughter instead. Though hurry and eat them while they are fresh, before they figure out that their weapons are stupid and look for stuff they can use to actually hurt you…

TALL DARK AND MURDER COFFEE

Normal coffee...Were expecting more?...Of course you were! The coffee beans are potent! These beans were carefully harvested from the Land of Nightmares.These are for those who want to stay up a few days before during the days of the dead or planning something big that requires no sleep? This is the coffee for you, for experienced coffee drinkers that needs more oomph than the plain normal human coffee. Must drink one cup a day and no more! If drink more than 1,it effects will last for more than a week depending on how many cups you drunk...You will develop hallucinations and maybe see an entity that follows you around...waiting for the moment you finally crash...and well sweep your soul away...Not before scaring you and cause the most horrible nightmares you have ever faced…It is advised that you seek the local dream fairy, Jade(despite her constant warnings and the waiver you signed) as soon as you see them so their hold on you aren't strong…Your local dream fairy will try her best to deal with the situation but keep in mind...This is a dangerous situation that you could have prevented if you had only listened, so be prepared to trade something of equal value… Something that will cause you utter despair and can not live without can't not replace… Don't lie because both local dream fairy and the entity knows… Make the right decision or it will murder your soul one way or another… Please don't let your bitty have a sip of this since they are more prone to this and these entities would love little morsels like them...

CHILLING DIRTY CHAI LATTE

If you need that coffee pick-me-up as you pass out candy on Halloween but aren’t a huge fan of pumpkin flavor, you may love the homemade dirty chai latte. If you want to make it extra dirty for those legal adults out there we will offer some pick me up concoctions from your friendly fairy to add to delicious drink.

BLOODCURDLING I SCREAM

This creamy cold delight was made with the crushed teeth of ice wraiths...And of course being magical they will make the ice cream enchanted to stay cold for a long time. And it will scream as you take a bite out of them. Not in pain but just because they wish to not interact with anything. The screams are small, squeaky and quite exaggerated. Like " Ahh!.... Ahh!..." like it was trying to process what their next word should be...Don't worry if you think the screaming is annoying, just scoop where their screaming mouths would be and there no more screaming and you can enjoy the treat. It comes in common human flavors and new ones that Jade that bring back from home...

TRICE MICE

Enchanted little candy mice that has three layers. A candy coat, a chocolate coat, nougat center. . You saw right there are mice in the kitchen but don’t fret, health inspectors or lawsuits won’t hit these store anytime soon. these It is so good that will make all you chocolate lovers want some even though the scurry around and those who are a bit afraid of their counterpart reconsider.

*Monty let out a soft smile as both him and Mina finished introducing those new treats.*

Monty: These are the items we order in the cafe as of right now… But we also cater to all our customers needs...So of their any item you want, we shall make it our goal to provide it for you…

Jade’s Medical Counter

ROCK A BYE SLEEPIES

ENCHANTED GUMMY SHEEPS THAT YOU OR YOUR BITTIES TAKE IF YOU HAVE A BAD CASE OF INSOMNIA. JUST TAKE A SMALL BITE OF IT AND IT WILL COME TO LIFE AND MULTIPLY AND HELP YOU COUNT TO SLEEP OR THE LESS TRADITIONAL WAY, CUDDLE UP TO YOU OR INTERACT WITH IN A WAY TO HELP YOU SLEEP. ONCE THE MEDICINAL EFFECTS HAD TAKEN OVER THE SHEEP WILL MORPH BACK INTO ONE AND JUMP INTO YOUR MOUTH. IT DISSOLVES INSTANTLY.

STELLAR HUFF AND PUFF DROPS

THIS STARRY SHAPE WILL MAKE YOUR BITTY WANT TO TAKE THIS MEDICINAL CANDY. THIS WILL HELP ANY BITTY IF THEY ARE FEELING SICK AND LESS ENERGETIC THAN USUAL. COUGHING AND SNIFFLING BEGONE AS THIS STELLAR CANDY IS EATEN. JUST TAKE THIS THREE TIMES A DAY PLEASE.

HEAL YEAH WOUNDS WRAPS

These magical wraps will help heal lacerations or scratches more quickly than any normal bandage. These are soaked from plants from Jade's home and is high with magical healing properties.

STARMINT CHEWS

These chews will brighten anyone's day with a smile or fresh breath. Eating these will help your bitty teeth glow and grow strong and bright with minty freshness that is out of this world. Beneficial for skeleton bitties.

LEMONY GINGER BITES

Citrusy and ginger mixed together to help with that sore throat or rasp. But these bites back, well more like gumming since they are gummies and it doesn't hurt you when it bite. Those who likes gimmicks and enjoy the soothing sensation of their sore throat melting away.

*Jade smiles sheepishly at her stock. *

Jade: This seem to be the only items I can provide at the moment but I will come up with new ones I promise! And unfortunately, we still need a tailor but it is okay...*She grins excitingly as her wings fluttered* Now the main event! You see during the mishap with the abominations destroying my room...They possibly... well... got into my lab and my bitties samples got well...contaminated with these dark creatures… They are still amazing mind you and I love them all the same!

*She went into the back and brought out a basket that is covered with a blanket. She had a mischievous look on her face as she pulled the blanket away.*

MEET MY DARLING DARK INTUNED BITTIES!

Sugar Bites: ( a zombie candy-gore candied dragon skeleton. A monster kid variant.)

This precious one was going to be part of the angelic series of her bitties but the dark magic got to him first. He is made from candy and from his ectoplasm, horns, bones made from strong sugar and accessories. He is candy. Though he is a zombie as well...He is a zombie that likes eating candy...so you get the picture what he does to himself since he is close proximity to himself… To prevent from the bitty eating itself you need a durable muzzle to put on this sweetie and feed them candy daily. Don't take the candy away from his ectobelly please he needs it. Baby will cry. Don't eat the baby, he already knows he is delicious. Besides that he is a healthy bitty that tries to get along with everyone, if not a little hyper from his sugar intake.

BC: ( bad luck shadow cat skeleton. A sans variant.)

This bitty oozes bad luck, not like he wanted to...it was just how he is made. And it took him and his creator a few cuts and bruises to get his magic under control. He is aloof bitty with a permanent grin on his face and bones as black as the night. He loves to be in the shadows and often hangs around those younger and innocent...Not because they are cute and needs protecting...he likes to tease them and give them a little bad luck. He loves scaring them too...Though he means no harm...Don't be alarm when bad luck suddenly happens to you for the first few days of keeping this bitty. He is cautious and always will always know that he has a loving place to return to if he deems the owner unsuitable for him. Though once he realizes he is here to stay and you actually care about him, expect this mischievous feline to wake you up with him laying on your face and him constantly meowing for food, when you know well that he could talk...He also your personal stalker...He goes everywhere with you as long you have a shadow. He will be there...no buts and if about it...He won't be upfront with confrontation but he is vindictive...and has a quiet fury when it comes with the people he cares about...So if your bully suddenly gets pooped on by seagull then suddenly gets a thousand more seagulls droppings...You know who did it...He won't stop either...even if you tell him to stop...he will feel bad and make sure that he torture your bully more selectively and quietly when you are not around...as I said he is a vengeful thing…

Omen: ( Voodoo Doll...Nice Cream Guy variant )

This bitty is bigger than most nice cream guy bitties and more plush than most but you best not to underestimate him. This fluffy bitty can curse you if you ever look at him wrong. He is jaded to most of his emotions due to the fact he is a doll for curses and he could always transfer his pain somewhere else to the person he decided to curse...He is an amazing addition to the family and can easily be mended up. He has his own soft toy soul that he usually keep it away from his body. He will only hand it to the person who he trusts and those who his soul get to control him...Though I recommend not to...Let him be your plush buddy and let him keep his soul close to you can see the bae give you those rare happy buck tooth smiles. He comes in different varieties from the brownish coloring with X button eyes to the typical pure black with skeleton markings...We also have the original coloring… Though we have different varieties of "skins" that if you want to change his looks available. It is like changing clothes for the Omen bitty and won't hurt him. If remove his outer layer, he will disappear momentarily. Don't fret though, as long you let him know that you want him to change into a different layer. And leave the "skin" you want him to change into where he disappeared... He will disappear where his soul is (which is always nearby)...

Make you compliment him on his new look when he appears again afterward because he will love you for it…

*Jade smiles gently as she pet them affectionately.*

Jade: As of right now they are available for the month of Halloween! So get them while they last...the merged magic that made them could only made them last for so long…

#jade creations #jade speaks #halloween event perhaps #halloween bitty adoption #halloween event

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klove0511 · 5 years

Text

Pride and Joy

Title: Pride and Joy

Author: @klove0511

Artist: @angel-with-a-moonsword

Beta: klove0511′s lovely spouse

Rating: T

Ships: Gen

Warnings: Brief show level violence

Tags: pansexual!Sam, ace!Jack, aro!Jack, mother-hen!Dean, Season 13, Set between 13x22 and 13x23, Bloodlines (Episode 9x20) references

Summary: Things have been different since they rescued Jack from Apocalypse World, and Sam hopes a road trip and festival can help them reconnect.

Read on AO3

“Say that again.”

Sam barely suppressed his flinch. Dean sounded pissed, and he wasn’t sure why. “I want to go to the Chicago Pride Fest with Jack.”

“This weekend,” Dean said.

Sam nodded, still hesitant.

“What the hell for?” Dean asked.

That probably should not have been an unexpected question. He shrugged lamely. “I think it could be a good experience for him. Some time for us to bond. There hasn’t been a lot of time for that since we got back.”

“Because we’ve been working, Sam.” Dean huffed and pulled a beer out of the fridge.

“And we’re between hunts right now. It’s great timing.” Sam really didn’t know why this was pushing Dean’s buttons. They didn’t have to do everything together. Or was it because it was a pride parade? They’d never actually talked about Sam’s preferences, but it was because they just didn’t talk like that, not really. He’d never thought Dean would actually have a problem with it. Hesitantly, he asked.

For a minute, Dean was actually stunned into silence, and Sam felt his anxiety levels spiking. When Dean found his voice again he was indignant. “Of course I don’t care about that! So long as you aren’t screwing another demon then we’re good. The problem is that you want to go to Chicago without proper backup.”

Sam remembered their last Chicago case. Of course he did. The city had been quiet for years though. It might still be overrun by monsters, but then, apparently that was true everywhere. He told Dean so, then said, “Taking Jack isn’t exactly going without backup. Besides, we’re not going to be hunting.”

Dean grumbled under his breath.

Sam rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like he’d been asking permission. Asking for Dean’s opinion, maybe. Letting Dean know he would be gone for a few days, definitely. But not asking permission, and Dean knew it.

“Fine. Check-in every few hours though, or I’ll bring the cavalry.”

“Once a day, unless there’s trouble, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam smiled and left to go pack.

Convincing Dean had been one thing, but Sam wasn’t sure where to start with Jack. He’d been distant since they’d returned from Apocalypse World. Sam didn’t know how much of it was because he’d lost Lucifer and how much was just him avoiding Sam. Because it was just Sam he’d been avoiding. Dean and Cass had been teaching Jack to hunt, and while Sam was always there, ready to help however Jack needed him, Jack just…didn’t. He went to Dean or Cass first. It stung, but Sam supposed they were the logical choices, after all.

Sometimes Sam thought he was imagining it. They would all be together, and Jack would be utterly normal with him. No one else seemed to notice anything either. But Sam would. He’d catch a glance or a look from Jack that made his heart sink. Like he wasn’t really part of Jack’s family anymore.

So, maybe he was being selfish, hoping Jack would open up to him if they went on a road trip together. But hey, it had always worked for him and Dean. You know, eventually.

Sam rapped his knuckles lightly against Jack’s door. “Can I come in?” he asked.

Upon hearing Jack’s affirmative, he pushed open the door to reveal Jack slumped on the bed poking at Sam’s laptop. He looked every bit the sullen teenager, though Sam knew better.

“Hey,” he started. “I’m thinking of taking a trip for a few days. How would you feel about seeing Chicago with me?”

Jack looked up, eyes narrowed. “What are we hunting?”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. There’s a festival I want to go to, and I thought you’d like to come with me.”

“A…festival?” Jack said, slowly.

“Yeah, a celebration. With food and street vendors. There’s a parade on the last day.” Sam shifted awkwardly, feeling uncomfortably large in the small room.

“Is Dean going?”

Sam tried not to let his disappointment show. Of course Jack would ask about Dean. “No. He really doesn’t enjoy big cities much these days. He and Cass are staying here.” He sighed, letting it turn into an embarrassed laugh. “I just thought it would be fun. Never mind. Have a good night, Jack.”

Sam turned to go, prepared to make a hasty retreat to his room.

“Wait, Sam.” He heard Jack call out before he could clear the door. He half-turned, acknowledging Jack with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I’d like to go with you.”

Sam smiled. “Great. Then pack a bag. We’re leaving in the morning.”

They had perfect driving weather. Warm enough to keep the windows down, just overcast enough that the sun wasn’t blinding, not a hint of rain. They took turns finding radio stations as they faded out. The one they were listening to was beginning to dissolve into static, and instead of spinning the dial to something new, Jack snapped the radio off.

Sam braced himself. Jack had been working up the courage to say something for an hour, and he’d apparently decided now was the time. “Why did you ask me to come with you, Sam?”

Sam glanced to the passenger seat. Jack’s brow was furrowed. He looked almost afraid of how Sam was going to answer his question. So, he paused before he answered. He wasn’t sure what Jack was afraid of, but he wanted to reassure the kid. “I know things have been tough this past year. Just thought we could both do with some celebration.”

Jack nodded, slowly. “What kind of festival is it?”

Sam considered his answer. “Have you ever heard of a pride parade?”

Jack shook his head. Sam smiled, and they filled the rest of the drive with conversation, mostly about the various facets of the LGBT community.

Chicago in late June could be surprisingly miserable. The buildings and asphalt raised the temperature downtown to an uncomfortable degree, and the lake did nothing but provide stifling humidity. To top it off, for a place called the Windy City, the air today was oppressive and still. Sam would have killed for a breeze as they wandered the festival.

The weather didn’t kill the festive air though. All around them were people laughing and shopping. There was an abundance of glitter and leather, and rainbows were everywhere. Jack was marveling at a pair of women with matching rainbow hair while Sam purchased a pan rainbow tank top. If tomorrow’s weather was anything like today, that would be what he was wearing to the parade.

“Cute kid. He yours?”

Sam turned toward the voice. It belonged to a gorgeous woman with long blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She was almost as tall as he was, and judging by her Adam’s apple, broad shoulders, and Trans Pride pendant, she hadn’t been born into a female body. She wore her femininity well, from long earrings to flowing flower skirt, and she was looking at Sam like she wanted to eat him. It had been awhile for him, a long while, and he was plenty interested, but no. This weekend was about reconnecting with Jack.

“He’s—my nephew. We’re just in town for the weekend.”

She smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Some friends and I are meeting up at a club later. Maybe you two would like to join us?”

Sam grinned, flattered. “Thanks, but I think we’re just going to crash in our hotel. I’m not really looking for extra company this weekend.”

She shrugged. “Can’t blame a girl for trying, right?” She raised her eyebrows once more, suggestively, before disappearing into the crowd.

Oof. Flirting, being flirted with. It felt good, even if he was rusty. He’d never sought casual hookups at Dean’s pace, but once in a while that release felt damn good.

He turned around to find Jack watching him, expression unreadable.

“That was a woman?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, she was,” Sam said.

“And she wished to have sex with you.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“But you didn’t want to. Because of me?” Jack said, clearly trying to puzzle something out.

“This weekend is about us spending time together. Reconnecting. Not about me hooking up,” Sam said firmly.

They found a relatively quiet spot to rest for a bit, out of the main flow of pedestrians. Sam startled when he heard his phone ring, even though he quickly realized it was probably Dean making sure they hadn’t been murdered by a shifter yet. He loved his brother, but Dean in mother-hen mode was ridiculous.

“Hey, we’re still alive, jerk.”

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean growled. “You guys hit any trouble?”

Sam frowned. There was something in Dean’s voice that was setting off alarm bells for Sam. “What kind of trouble do you mean? Our kind?”

“You haven’t heard the news?”

Sam glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to them. “No, what news?”

Jack turned to watch Sam, now paying attention to the conversation.

“People are getting jumped leaving the festival. Three so far, at least.”

“It’s a pretty big city, you sure it’s not just random violence? I hate to say it, but this is Chicago. Three muggings doesn’t really sound like our kind of thing.”

“I’m not saying it is. I’m saying you’re at the damn festival, which makes the two of you targets. Watch yourselves.”

Sam could appreciate the concern, even if it confused him. Dean knew he was more than capable of handling some thugs—oh. He supposed it had just been a few weeks ago that the vamps had taken him down in that cave. He’d come back so many times now that it had hardly registered for him. Just another trauma in a long line of trauma. For Dean, though—

“We will. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll call you tonight.” He hung up and turned to Jack. “Ready to keep going?”

They moved back into the crowd and had purchased ice cream before Jack spoke again.

“I have been imagining myself in various scenarios, after that woman flirted with you. And they all seem very unpleasant to me.”

Sam looked sidelong at Jack. “What kind of scenarios?”

“All kinds. Sexual encounters, pre-sexual encounters, and with a variety of genders. None of it seems appealing. I believe I may be asexual,” he stated, more confident than Sam had heard him all weekend.

“Ok. Her flirting with me made you realize this?” Sam wasn’t sure he saw the connection, but he supposed that didn’t matter. If it helped Jack discover something about himself, then it was a good thing.

“You looked very happy. So, I wondered if it would have made me happy too. But I don’t think it would.” Jack had been eating his ice cream intermittently while he spoke, and was nearly done, while Sam’s was starting to drip down his fingers. He hadn’t been paying attention to it, too focused on Jack to eat.

They shopped and ate and people watched for a few more hours before they both decided they were tired enough to head back to the hotel. It was still plenty light out and still oppressively muggy and warm, so Sam opted to cut them through some back alleys. A stupid risk, probably, but he didn’t think anyone would want to jump a guy as tall as himself, especially since he wasn’t alone. He was wrong.

“Hey, Winchester!” the would-be mugger shouted, brandishing a gun.

Fantastic. Any mugger that recognized him was probably a monster, and he wasn’t exactly armed for a hunt. Sam instinctively pushed Jack behind him and said, “What are you?”

“Ghoul,” a familiar voice snarled from behind Sam, the woman that had flirted with him earlier. “You know what happens when you cross territory lines, vulture.”

Without further warning, she transformed and leapt at their attacker, slashing him deeply across the chest. The sound of a gunshot boomed, echoing in the narrow alley. Pain bloomed in Sam’s side and the world wobbled dangerously. Distantly, he heard Jack calling his name, and he felt rough concrete under his hands as a dark haze encroached on his vision.

The next things he became aware of were Jack’s face hovering over his and a bone deep ache he recognized from when Castiel healed some of his more egregious injuries. He was laying on the ground, in a puddle of something, if his damp clothes were any indication. Given the lack of rain, that only left disgusting, possibly body fluids options. Gross. Jack didn’t seem to care, as he flung himself onto Sam.

“What happened?” Sam coughed, voice rough. His throat felt like it was filled with sand.

“Please stop doing that. Please.” Jack was mumbling into Sam’s chest, repeating himself over and over in between hitches of breath.

He carefully dislodged the boy and sat up. The puddle turned out to be blood, and a lot of it. Judging from the dark stain on the front of his clothes, it had been his blood. That explained a lot. He hugged Jack close and muttered his apologies for getting hurt again.

The woman was watching them, obviously curious. “So, I hit on a Winchester. Huh. Guess you really do have nine lives.” She grinned.

Sam wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The ghoul was still on the ground, bleeding. The woman—the werewolf, Sam corrected—stood over it, claws pressing firmly into its throat. This was not a fight he especially wanted to get in the middle of.

“You two should go,” she said. “This part of downtown? Cops are probably already on their way.”

“What about you?” Sam asked, standing and helping Jack to his feet.

She smirked. “Plenty of wolves on the force. I’ll be fine.” She gave Sam one last long, appraising look. “My earlier offer still stands, by the way, if you’re ever out this way again.”

Once they were away from witnesses, Jack flew them back to the hotel. He was still upset, and Sam was feeling the crash from an adrenaline rush he hadn’t noticed having.

First things first, make sure Jack was ok. Then he could shower and check in with Dean. Dean, who definitely did not need to know what had happened tonight.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked.

Jack was pacing the room, obviously still too agitated to sit. Sam grimaced when he saw the blood spatter on Jack’s shirt. Maybe he’d let the kid have first shower. Mutely, Jack shook his head. “You—you almost died tonight, Sam.” His voice was shaky. “I’ve never healed anyone before. And—and you’re my family. But you almost died. Again. Why did you step in front of me? I would have been fine. But you—why?” The longer he spoke, the more hysterical he became.

Finally, Sam pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m ok, thanks to you, and I’m not going anywhere if I can help it. All right?” He closed his eyes. “Besides, I thought you were mad at me. You’ve been avoiding me since we got back.”

Jack’s arms squeezed Sam tighter. “Thought it would hurt less. If something happened again.” He shrugged helplessly. “I was wrong.”

Sam huffed a small laugh. “I’ve been there. Sorry. I promise to,” he paused, thinking, “to at least try to be more careful. But I’m not going to stop trying to protect you. Like you said, we’re family.”

Dean was furious when Jack told him on the phone that night, too fast for Sam to stop him. Sam left out the werewolf. No need to make all of Dean’s nightmares come true. It was bad enough his concerns had been justified. Sam wasn’t going to hear the end of this for a long time.

In the morning they made their way back to the festival to find a good place to watch the parade. It was already packed, no surprise since Sam had heard on the news that morning that they were expecting over 1,000,000 people to be in attendance.

They both wore their spoils from the day before—Sam in his pan tank and Jack wearing an aro flag draped around his shoulders. He’d picked up ace and aro wristbands, too. Sam still wasn’t sure if their bags had escaped unscathed last night by sheer luck or if Jack and his grace had something to do with it.

The weather was already hot and muggy though, despite a decent breeze, and Sam had pulled his hair into a small ponytail. What he could, anyhow. It was better than nothing. The massive crush of people made the heat worse, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could diminish the air of excitement around them.

Like yesterday, there were rainbows everywhere, in every color pattern Sam knew and several he hadn’t seen before. He watched friends connect and find each other from across the crowd, some obviously having not seen each other in a long time. This was what it was about. This event, bringing people together.

As the parade started, he hoisted Jack onto his back, so they could both see over the crowd. He thought about what had made him originally bring Jack to this. It had brought them closer, again, too. If nothing else, he had a better understanding of why Jack had been distant lately, but this morning the kid had been full of excitement and energy. It reminded him so much of the case in Dodge City (before it had all gone to shit) that Sam couldn’t help smiling. They were family, no matter what happened, and they would all take care of each other.

#spn holiday reverse bang #spn #sam!whump #queer!sam #queer!jack #pride parade #fic i wrote

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fatbottombucky · 5 years

Text

A Stark Is Born *Prequel to That’s Stark’s Boy*

Summary: Peter listens to the story about how your parents met and the story of why you stopped contact with Tony.

Grace Hart is an up and coming Agent to the FBI, although mostly on desk duty due to not following instructions, she’s on a mission to protect the most sort after man. Tony Stark, recently taking over his dad’s company, Stark makes it difficult for Grace to keep him safe. A story about how true love, but how loving each other is easier when they aren’t together.

Pairings: Tony Stark x Grace Hart (Miss Congeniality OC!) & Peter Parker x Male!Reader & Tony Stark x Pepper Potts

Warnings: Swear words, violence and drinking. It’s Angst, but fluff too. Sex is mentioned, obviously. But I’m not writing smut for this.

Word Count: 2236

Authors Note: Sandra Bullock is in no way how YOU should picture the mom. She’s simply an OC I created, the mom is a mixture of a bunch of Sandra Bullock characters, and I’m using the actress as INSPIRATION. You do NOT have to picture her as Sandy B, but she is an OC and therefore I will be using the name Grace for her, you’re free to place another name for the mother. It’s the same with all my fics, I leave it open to interpretation. I only use gifs as inspo and decoration, they’re not meant to depict how the reader/ the mother should look like.

Next chapter will be posted Thursday17th 8pm GMT - come to this blog as I won’t be able to link for future chapters / I’ll be creating a masterlist for the prequel also, so don’t worry, you’ll be able to find every chapter on my masterlist

Chapter One/ Six

“Agent Hart,” Jack Traven voice calls through the office, “Chief wants you.”

He pats the young female’s shoulder as he passes, giving her a sympathetic smile as he sits at his own desk. Grace heaves a sigh, pushing herself up from her own desk and pursing her lips as she walks towards the chief’s office. This wasn’t the first time she’d been called, nor would it be the last either. She had a thing for not following the rule book, sometimes tossing it out and struggled to follow orders; it’s why she’s never led a case.

She knocks a few times, hearing the faint gruff of her superior’s voice to come in. A few seconds of pep-talk before she opens the door, she’s met with a few faces, only one that she recognises- and that’s her boss.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Grace asked and stood with her hands clasped behind her back, hair pulled back into a low ponytail but she still managed to miss a few pieces that framed her face.

“I know I’ve put you on desk duty because of your last… instruction issue,” McDonald explains, “but I have an assignment, a very important one. It requires one of the best and since Matthews is on holiday, you’ll be on this one.” Grace nods once, “a very important male has been receiving disturbing letters these past few months, I’ve got the Intelligence team downstairs looking them over, they seem to be getting progressively more violent.”

Grace raises an eyebrow, “So a celebrity has a stalker, how is this an FBI issue?”

“It’s a top-secret operation,” McDonald's informs Hart, who instantly perks up. “We have suspicion to believe that whoever is sending these letter is planning on killing the victim, we’ve been informed that one of his helicopters suddenly lost engine power… then exploded.”

Grace nods, “And you want me to take point on this? Find out who’s behind the letter-”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, “you’re going to be protecting the victim, that’s all you’ll do. I have a team put together to figure out who this is, we just need someone to be with them at all times. Keep them alive and safe,” McDonald nods to the two other men, Hart only now acknowledges them. “Happy Hogan and James Rhodes have requested FBI officials.”

Grace instantly deflates, babysitting duty, great. Not. No one wants to follow some suit around and make sure he’s well and truly safe, they have money to get those types of people without using government-funded officials.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Anthony Stark,” Grace already starts to shake her head. “After the unexpected death of his parents, he has reason to be jumpy. His dad had a lot of enemies too, a lot of people trying to claim the Stark Industries from under the young heir of Howard. This could be serious, he needs protection and you’re not doing anything important around here.”

“No way,” Grace scoffs and crosses her arms. “I’ve seen Stark, he’s an egotistical, playboy asshole and he has enough money to hire bodyguards.”

“Actually,” one of the men piped up, “We can’t trust anyone but the FBI. We recently found out someone we hired was in on the operation to take Stark down, we believe it’s a man that posed as Tim Robbins. This is our last resort, so to speak.”

Grace looked at her boss and sighed, “I have no say in this, do I?” he shakes his head, “when do I start?”

“He won’t accept any hired help,” Rhodes explained to Grace, who nodded as the car drove them to wherever Stark would be. “His usual help, Miss Potts-”

Grace snorted, “What is he the prince from Beauty and the Beast?” she carried on snorting loudly, laughing at her own joke till she calmed herself down.

“Okay,” James mutters, “Anyway, she’s on paid leave. Visiting some family, he needs a stand-in. A personal assistant, you’ll have access to his whole timetable and with him at all times. We’ve just gotta make sure he’ll hire you.”

“Great, so not only do I have to babysit this adult. He refuses to accept any actual help, so I’ve also got to run his errands for him as I potentially stop him from getting assassinated?” Grace asked James with a raised eyebrow.

Happy Hogan, who is head security detail for Stark and used to be his personal driver, let’s out a small chuckle from the driver's seat. He looks in the mirror, to Grace, and only nods his head with a sympathetic smile.

“Do you own any dresses?” Happy calls from the front of the car.

“No,” Grace scoffs and raises her eyebrows at them, “Why do I need a dress?”

“You’ll need to look the part, Miss Hart.” Happy tells her and then focuses back on the road ahead.

Grace groans and slouches in her seat, gnawing on her bottom lip as she hopelessly sits in the back of the SUV. Wondering why and how she got into this mess, she should’ve handed her badge and gun over, could’ve taken the offered vacation. Yet, you’re a workaholic and did this to yourself, Grace.

“Okay, you know what? Drop me off home, send me a text of Tony’s favourite coffee and his DD tomorrow,” Happy frowns, “Designated Destination.” Grace rolls her eyes slightly like he should’ve known that anyway.

Happy and James drop her off, telling her Tony’s morning schedule for tomorrow. Leaving the young woman to go into her apartment and do the only she can; tape her hands and start venting her frustration out on her punching bag.

The corny RnB song plays loudly through the stereo as she works up a sweat, the sweat drips down her face and stings her eyes. By now she expected to be top of her game, yet she’s hardly playing with the team now, always on the bench because she can’t follow simple instructions. Her parents always told her to throw out the rule book, to live a little, but it seemed that always got her in trouble.

She turned the stereo off and picked up the phone, dialling the number of the only person she knew could help her, that would listen to her and tell her what she needed to hear.

“Hi, Mr Wong, it’s Grace Hart. I need one No. 13, two No. 7’s and I need three No. 8’s, no garlic.” She pauses for a moment, “yes, for one. Always for one. Can you throw in a No. 23, thank you. See you in 15 minutes,” she slapped the phone back on the receiver and sighed heavily.

Tomorrow she’d have to start her job, well her two jobs; saving and protecting Tony Stark and being his personal assistant till he is safe.

*Next Day*

Grace ran through the crowded New York street, almost spilling and tripping up several times. The long maxi, rather flowy, skirt kept causing her to stumble and tumble into people and buildings. The shoes weren’t a big help either, the flat sandals kept skidding and slipping, yet they are fashionable- by Grace’s standards.

Grace caught sight of Tony and Happy exiting the building where Stark Industries meetings are held, both in deep conversation and surrounded by a few journalists. Grace waved frantically to Happy, who raised his eyebrows at the poorly dressed woman, chuckling when she starts to yell at a cab that almost hit her.

“Mr Stark,” Grace pushes past Happy and stumbles up to the billionaire, handing him his coffee and shoving some papers into the other hand. “I’m Grace Hart, a pleasure to meet you. Miss Potts told me your schedule and what coffee you like,” she steps quickly to keep up with his fast pace.

Watching as he takes a small sip and nodding in appreciation, he glances over the papers in his hands. Her resume that she bullshitted early hours of the morning and frantically printed at the library, a cover letter that wrote up that had a forged signature of a George Wade- who she has never met and hopes Tony doesn't know.

Despite the headband pushing her hair back, it still manages to get into her face as she follows both men. “She recommended me, hoped you’d take me on whilst she’s away. I’ve looked over your schedule and I’m willing to work, to start right now.”

Tony stops at the car, pulling the glasses that cover his face off and eyeing her up and down. Grace frowns for a moment before he shrugs at Happy, stepping into the car, Happy nods for her to follow and she quickly dives in with a heaved sigh.

It’s silent, so Grace quickly fills it. “I live on the lower east side, so it’ll take me a while to get to your place in the morning. That’s if… I’ve got the job?”

Tony smiles, “Yes, you have the job. But I want something else from you.”

Grace chortles incredulously, “Oh, no. I am fully aware of your reputation and there’s no way you’re getting… that. No.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, not looking offended but rather amused, “Getting what?”

“You know what.” Grace concludes, muttering, “Sex,” Tony only chuckles, “there’s no way you’re getting that. I don’t care what past PA’s have done for the job, I will not.”

“Well, that would be nice. But what I really need is for someone to attend my meeting on Wednesday, I’ve got a party at the Playboy mansion, won’t be able to attend.”

Grace just nods and sighs, already knowing this is going to be difficult. The car is mostly silent, Tony on his phone and talking occasionally to Happy about something random.

The house they pull up to is… breathtaking. Clearly costs more than anything Grace will ever own, it’s beautiful and modern, clearly a mansion too. It must have around six bedrooms, at least. How can one man need all this space?

“You live here?” Grace asked and Tony nods, “alone?”

Tony chuckles, “I’m hardly ever alone, Pepper usually stays with me and I’m hardly single, I mean, you know my reputation.”

“Don’t you ever feel lonely in a place like this?” Grace asked and looked at Tony, his eyebrows are knitted together and he’s looking at her for a long moment before turning back to Happy, telling him to park the car in the garage around back.

Grace follows Tony up the drive, where he types in a code to enter the luxurious house. The lights all come on, the sound of a brewing coffee pot could be heard distantly, Grace raises an eyebrow at everything. Then from nowhere a distinct British accent is heard… from above?

“Welcome back, Mr Stark.”

“Who said that?” Grace asked looking around for the source of the voice, yet coming up empty.

Tony shrugs off his jacket and passes it to Grace, pointing to a closet near her, “That’s JARVIS, he used to be just an interface computer system, but I’m upgrading him to an Artificial Intelligence. It’s going rather well,” Tony smiles and Grace can only nod her head, “JARVIS, this is Grace Hart, she’s taking over Miss Potts duties for a few weeks. Get her prints for the doors and add her to the security logs.”

“Right away, Sir.”

Grace remains by the door, utterly floored by the technology in this house. Tony is making an AI? She knew he was a genius, like his father before him, but she didn’t know that he just makes AI’s in his spare time. Isn’t he meant to be running some kind of business? Oh, right. No, you are Grace, you’re attending the meeting for him on Wednesday.

It wasn’t till past eleven at night that Grace finally returned home. She had to go over Pepper’s timetable, all involving picking up his dry-cleaning, answering his own emails and arranging all of his meals- alongside his own head chef. She also had to consult with JARVIS, an Artificial Intelligence, talking to something with no face was… weird.

“Sir,” Grace sighed as she finally got through to her boss, “I really don’t think I can do this job.”

“Agent Hart, it’s just a security detail.”

Grace scoffs, “I wish. It’s not just a security detail, Mr Stark doesn’t want to be looked after. No, I have to pretend to be a personal assistant just to keep him safe,” she paced outside of her apartment building. “I have do everything, it’s like looking after a child. It’s been one day and I can’t do it. He has a frigging robot as a friend, Sir.”

“Hart, you can and will do this job. No matter what you keep Stark alive and safe, got it?” It sounded more of a command than a question.

“Sir, I think this individual might actually be mentally unstable,” Grace affirms but knows better than to argue. “Can you at least have the team look into an Obadiah Stane? He works alongside Stark, I got this… vibe from him.”

There was a moment of silence, “I’ll have them look into it. But Stane is one of the people that was also concerned for Stark’s safety. I’ll update you in a few days of the progress.”

Grace let out a long groan before ending the call before entering her apartment. It’s only for a few days, it can’t be that hard to look after and keep him safe. It’s not like he’s constantly putting himself in danger.

(so, like, yeah. I don’t know. If you want to read That’s Stark’s Boy, simply click the masterlist link in my bio OR type in TSBmasterlist in the search bar on my blog. I had no idea if JARVIS was a computer or an AI in 1999, so I had to blag it. I’m having to bullshit a lot for this prequel lol. Hope you enjoy this, there are only six chapters, so I guess this short thing!- Rosalie)

#tony stark x oc #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagines #iron man x reader #iron man one shot #iron man imagines #tony stark x reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male #tony stark x peter parker #grace hart x tony stark

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nitewrighter · 5 years

Text

Day 4: Angel

Going for something more reflective than really shippy, today! (And yes it’s still day four for me. Pacific time, baby!!)

Also, aw, this is before Mondatta died.

-----

The remains of Zurich headquarters had been fenced off. Much of the more dangerous rubble and other debris from the explosion had been cleared away, but Genji laced his hands through the chain-link fence and stared at it. Snow was drifting down, and the cold night air made his prosthetics ache. Zenyatta floated next to him, a beacon of tranquility, his orbs of harmony making soft chiming noises as they rotated around him.

“So… this is where they remade your body?” asked Zenyatta.

Genji was silent, staring out at the ruined headquarters. His armor at that point was piecemeal---a combination of his own travel-worn armor plates from Overwatch and some more customized pieces from the Shambali. His eyes flicked to his prosthetic hand on the chain link.

“Let me help you,” Genji remembered a voice, gentle but firm, and a woman pulling a mask away from her face. The memory blurred from the high ceilings of Hanamura castle to a gray-lit hospital room. “I’m Doctor Ziegler, I’ll be overseeing your recovery while our cyberneticists work on the best prosthetics to suit your needs.” The same woman, dressed now in a lab coat was holding a tablet at his bedside.

“Pros.. prosthetics?” his own voice came to him rasping and with a metallic ring to it that seemed almost alien in his own ears.

“I’m afraid much of your organic body was lost, Genji.”

“No…” He remembered moving to lift his arm but found there was no arm there, “No—“

“Genji?” Zenyatta spoke and brought him back to the present.

The chain-link rattled slightly as Genji gripped it a little tighter. “Yes,” he said quietly. He drew his sword and sliced the chains of the padlock securing the fence, pushing it open. He knew he could just vault over it, but he also knew Zenyatta could not. They walked into the ruins, much of the site was cordoned off at specific points. Genji wasn’t sure if they would be constructing a new building in its place or who the land even belonged to now. Still, there were little landmarks, even in the ruins, that let him orient himself. The base of Morrison’s statue, the airfield, the interior courtyard now overgrown with weeds. He paused at some caution tape bordering a massive sinkhole—the below-ground levels… the Blackwatch Intelligence Center.

“I take it they aren’t giving me these prosthetics out of the goodness of their hearts,” he remembered saying as he curled and uncurled the fingers of a prototype hand.

Doctor Ziegler had pushed her hair back, pursed her lips, clearly not liking what she had to say next. “Commanders Morrison and Reyes will have to fill you in on the details. In essence, what they’re proposing is a sort of… conditional amnesty with regards to your history with the Shimada clan—”

“You have vital skills in infiltration that would be ideal for our more covert operations—” Morrison was reading off of a tablet to him across the desk. It was hard to tell which parts of his hair were blonde and which parts were gray-white with age.

“You’re going to do what you do best with us,” he remembered Reyes’ voice and watching the shuriken slide through the grooves on his prosthetics for the first time, “But you’re going to be saving lives while you’re doing it.”

“So this is Doctor Ziegler’s special little project,” he remembered Moira towering over him with that thin-lipped smile.

“Guess we’re just assassins now!” McCree was shouting as Genji deflected Talon gunfire in Venice

“How are you feeling?” Zenyatta spoke gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. And Genji was back in the present. Back in the ruins.

“I don’t…” Genji trailed off, “I don’t know how to feel,” he said quietly, “When you’re from the greatest crime family in Japan, you… you don’t exactly have a good point of reference on what is ‘good.’ You have principles, you have a code…” Genji glanced down, “A code that I hardly ever adhered to, but it’s for the family. It’s for the clan. With Overwatch… their methods had… more oversight, but they were still willing to do what had to be done. After the Venice incident… everything came to light.” He looked at Zenyatta, “I’m not going to say Overwatch was better than the Shimada clan—because… that didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care.”

“You care now,” said Zenyatta.

“For whatever good that does me.” said Genji. He broke his eyes away from the craggy heaps of cement and looked at Zenyatta. “I’m sorry---I don’t know why I asked for us to come here--”

“We were in the area,” Zenyatta said a bit airily, “If you felt there was a chance for you to work through your memories---”

“I don’t know if I’m working through them or just... just wallowing in them!” said Genji, pressing his hands to his faceplate. “This was--I’m sorry---I... I need to breathe,” he said, walking away from the ruins.

“Genji?” Zenyatta floated after him and Genji was standing among the craggy cement remains of the Zurich headquarters once more. Genji looked up at the broken remains of Morrison’s statue.

“There is chaos within you, Genji, but all I can see of what troubles your mind as what you are willing to share,” said Zenyatta.

“You’re not just what they say you are,” he remembered the way she looked at him, all shining eyes and crinkled brows after the Venice incident, “You don’t have to be.”

“What I am is whatever is necessary to destroy the Shimada clan,” he remembered his own voice and regret twisted hard in his insides. She was trying to help him. She wanted to help him so badly and he wouldn’t even bother to look up and recognize it.

“Tell me your thoughts, friend,” Zenyatta put a hand on his shoulder.

“Doctor Ziegler--” Genji started, and then said a little bit more softly, “Angela.”

“I sense she occupies your thoughts often,” said Zenyatta.

“If there was one thing that would have kept me there, it was her. I knew that. That’s why I never said goodbye. That’s why I never...” he shook his head, “Angela never stopped caring. She looked at Overwatch and saw a chance to make the world a better place. She looked at me and saw…” he trailed off.

Zenyatta tilted his head at Genji expectantly.

“…A good man,” Genji said quietly, “The desire to be good. To bring something good into the world in spite of everything that I had done and everything that had been done to me. She saw that when I couldn’t see, well… anything.” He kicked aside a bit of rubble. “Maybe I only dragged us back here because...”

“Because you miss her?” Zenyatta ventured.

Genji’s shoulder heat sinks vented, steaming in the night air. “I--I don’t---I mean--”

Zenyatta continued patiently floating in front of him.

“Yes,” Genji admitted, “I miss her. But even back then I knew I couldn’t just... trail behind her while everything was going down in flames. Where I was, she couldn’t reach me, and I couldn’t drag her down with me. So I left.”

“Time and distance can give us perspective,” said Zenyatta, “But the issue can become more complex when it’s people dear to us we’re distancing ourselves from.”

“Do you think I did the right thing? Leaving like that?”

“I cannot tell you that,” said Zenyatta, “Nor could either of us do anything to change it if it were the wrong choice. What I can tell you is that you have made the decision to try and understand your place and purpose in this world, and I believe you should see that through.”

Genji gave a glance back to the ruined statue of Morrison and exhaled, then nodded. “I suppose seeing the headquarters like this... I can’t really help but worry about her. Even though it’s all... well after the fact.”

“Such feelings are to be expected,” said Zenyatta, holding a hand out and catching a few snowflakes on his metal palm, “As difficult as it can be, seeing this place in this state, it is a chance for you to reflect on who you were back then, and what you can take from those experiences, as well as acknowledge that this world changes, whether we are there to see such changes or not.”

Genji still seemed pensive.

“When you save a life, however,” Zenyatta said, looking up at the ruined statue of Jack Morrison, “You continue to have a presence in that life, no matter the distance between the two. Doctor Ziegler clearly still has a presence in yours--”

“And it’s distracting me--”

“Quite the opposite. I think you’re the richer for it,” said Zenyatta. He plucked one of his own orbs out of the air around him and it became shrouded in a violet energy, “Sometimes you need that distant point on the horizon to keep perspective. For me, it’s my brother--even if our differing beliefs prompted my exit from the monastery, I still often wonder what his counsel would be in troubling situations. But I know he’s out there, spreading the message of the Iris. And the thought comforts me.”

“...And Angela’s probably saving the world, as usual,” Genji huffed a little, “ Thank you, Master.”

They stayed in the ruins of headquarters only a short while longer before heading back to the hovercycle. They rode back to Zurich’s downtown with Zenyatta on the backseat. Zenyatta was, as always, painfully accommodating for Genji’s whims---he had insisted to Genji before that there were parts of his healing and journey that he had to figure out for himself, which, coincidentally, were the parts that Genji felt were the most frustrating. He knew it wasn’t fair to expect Zenyatta to only say a few words to magically change everything he couldn’t stand about himself, but at the same time it really put all of Zenyatta’s lessons in patience with himself to the test.

Zurich was all done up in green and scarlet for the Christmas season. A Christmas market was up, tented stalls bordered by yellow-gold lights. Genji couldn’t help but slow slightly to watch the crowds moving through. Finally a high pitched sound filled the air and Genji pulled the hovercycle to a stop outside the remains of a structure where dozens of humans and a handful of omnics were gathering. Genji slowed the hovercycle to a stop and the high-pitched noise in the air turned out to be a carol.

Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Hirten erst kundgemacht Durch der Engel Halleluja....

A short line of children and smaller-model omnics dressed in white with tinsel halos holding candles were moving towards the center of the ruined structure. It took Genji half a beat to realize the ruined structure was the remains of a cathedral. It wasn’t fenced off like the Zurich headquarters had been. In fact, it was sort of beautiful in its desolation, rigged up with fairy lights and now rendered into more of an open-air amphitheater.

“...this must be all that survived the Crisis,” murmured Zenyatta, as Genji tried to break his line of sight away from the procession of small angels heading into the cathedral. He revved the motor of the hovercycle, but Zenyatta said something and he didn’t accelerate.

“What?” said Genji, putting his foot down on the ground to keep the hovercycle in place.

“I was saying, ‘I often wonder what would happen if the first members of the Shambali weren’t drawn to the Himalayas as they were.’ Mondatta told me that many of our structures were inspired by the religious structures of the humans there. If our consciousness was the equivalent of human souls, it seemed only fitting that we build structures that reflect that. I often wonder if our sensibilities were dependent on where we were.”

Genji glanced down, feeling a bit guilty that he had dragged Zenyatta into the ruins of the Zurich headquarters and never really given much thought into what Zenyatta might be curious about. “We could stick around,” Genji suggested, “See the ceremony.”

Zenyatta gave a nod and they parked the hovercycle, heading into the ruined cathedral to watch the little pageant. It was neither of their faiths, and Genji would have almost felt as if he were intruding on the little ceremony but the air of the whole thing treaded this line between painfully open and painfully intimate. From what Genji could gather it was a production of a local school, with the audience comprising the children’s families and a handful of faculty members directing the whole thing. A single electric keyboard attached to some powerful speakers placed strategically around the ruined church kept the choir going and adults were quietly and briskly herding costumed children into various arrangements on the ruined altar while another child stumbled through scripture readings in German, sometimes with another adult briskly walking up and pointing to the paper in front of them and speaking very softly in german to help them find their place again. It was children running through the motions of a faith their parents taught them, not yet really embracing the beliefs, but reflecting them, reflecting their stories.

Zenyatta watched the proceedings, looking thoughtful as a small angel shoved herself to the center of the solemn procession, yelling, “Hab keine Angst! Dir ist ein Kind geboren!” which prompted a bewildered a reaction from the shepherd-dressed children and a short series of cheers from a group of adults in the audience. The child’s family, Genji assumed. The group of other small angels huddled around the previously yelling angel and another carol kicked in.

“Is the Iris ingrained into you like this?” said Genji, watching as another child wearing a blue headscarf carrying a plastic baby doll wrapped in a blanket shuffled up the middle aisle of the ruined church.

“We never really thought of it as such,” said Zenyatta, as the child shoved the plastic baby doll into a hay and cardboard manger, “For us, the Iris was simply another mode of existence. Mortality and the concept of a ‘creator’ for us is, as you can imagine, more complicated. But the needs between our kinds, I think are the same. We both fear oblivion. We both desire validation for our existence... and trauma complicates our perception of these needs.”

They walked out of the ruined church as another carol started rising up behind them. Zenyatta chuckled a little.

“What?” said Genji.

“They looked like smaller versions of Doctor Ziegler, did they not?” said Zenyatta.

“If they were wearing blue, maybe,” said Genji, smiling beneath his faceplate.

#Gency #gencyweek

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