#so i had to measure em all out and draw em by eye

[blurblicalscripture]

my shy girl

warnings/ SMUTTTTT, weed, unprotected sex (don't fucking do itttt)

pairing/ eddiemunsonxshy!fem!reader

summary/ y/n likes eddie. eddie likes y/n. she's too shy to make the first move, he's too oblivious to make the first move. like most things in eddie's life, [the purchasing of] weed ends up being the solution to the problem

The picnic bench wobbles as you bounce your leg, only steadying as he sits down across from you. "Ah, my favourite customer."

Your palm is sweaty from the bundled up cash you're holding. You squeak out a "Hey."

"So, the usual?" he chirps, digging through for the little baggie. You hum out a "mhmm." You aren't interested in the weed at all as your eyes wander to Eddie. You enjoy the clink of his rings against the metal box, song-like.

A hand waves in front of you. "Earth to y/n?" He lilts.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. What?" You shake your head, still a little fuzzy.

He huffs a laugh. "I said that's twenty five, if you would be so kind." He holds the bag out to you in one hand, his other an open palm, elbows on the table. You flatten out the cash, hand it to him.

It should be thirty. He knows, you know. But you can't argue this with him again. You've lost count of how many times you had lost that battle. "You're my most loyal customer, y/n." He'd say. "It's only fair."

He clasps it in his palm, theatrical. "Pleasure doing business with ya," he says, shoving the cash in his little box and beginning to stand.

"English!" you blurt, a hand coming straight to your cheek. You sort of yelled, but it's Eddie, and he isn't exactly jarred by weird.

"English." He repeats, his tone a lullaby compared to yours. He lowers back on the bench. "What about it?"

"Uh, the english project." You swallow. "I heard that you could use some help."

He taps a finger on his lips, feigned thinking, eyes wandering to the sky above. "That I could."

"Well you obviously don't have to but if you want we can work on it at my house and my parents aren't at home and it'll be quiet. But it's up to you cause I'm sure you have better things—"

He waves his hands. "Y/n." You look at him and shut up, eyes wide. "That sounds good." He draws out the words, slow and measured, as if to reassure you. "I have my van if you want a ride." He points his thumb toward the parking lot, the corners of his lips quirked up softly.

"Yeah, okay." You smile gingerly, grabbing your books. "Did you maybe want to get your textbook from your locker first?"

He chuckles, keeps walking to the van. "I uh, I don't exactly have a textbook for this class. Or any class."

"Oh, right. Well you can use mine if you want."

He stops at the van "Ever so kind, y/n." and opens the passenger door for you.

His van is comfy, same as always. He plays music that's a little loud—not too much, but it makes you feel lively, the bass and drums in your chest—and you even find yourself singing along.

He turns down the volume, Paranoid fades into the background. "You like Black Sabbath? How am I only finding this out now?"

"Oh, um, yeah, and my dad likes 'em too. Paranoid is like one of my favourite albums." You fish in your bag and pull out a cassette tape. "I made this new mix a couple weeks ago actually."

He takes it from your hand, glancing between it and the road. You tense at that, fingers digging into the leather of the seat, but he keeps driving smoothly. He runs his thumb over the neat handwriting.

"Mötley Crüe, Iron Maiden and Metallica! Shit, y/n, I think I've met my match."

"Your partner in crime," you quip.

"The Bonnie to my Clyde."

You both giggle at that. "Don't tell me you're a burglar now. We're going to my house!"

He chuckles. "Speaking of which it's this way, yeah?"

"Almost. Next turn in." You point to the entryway.

"Right, right. I was a little high the last time I was here." He says.

"A little?" You scoff. "You ran over my mom's rhododendrons. I had to tell her it was the neighbour's dog."

"I'll get her new flowers," he huffs.

"No, you won't."

"No, I won't." He's grinning like an idiot.

You room isn't terribly messy but you scramble to shove the pens, books and notebooks off your bed and onto the desk. He has given you a ride home before but never dared enter. You never dared to ask him in.

"Sorry, I was up studying last night," you murmur as you neaten up. There are a couple cans of red bull on the pillow and you sweep them into the little trash bin. You opt to leave the cassettes and walkman on the bed.

"I would say I get what you mean but I'm not exactly renowned for my studious tendencies." He glances over at the books like they're written in another language. "But I have had my fair share of all-nighters."

"Playing at The Hideout until dawn then passing out in your van after does not count." You joke. He laughs and your stomach jumps.

"Right. So, where do we start with this project." He moves over to the bed, sitting close as you flip through the textbook. Your thighs touch.

"Well, we have to argue here that Othello's downfall is his own fault, not Iago's." You point out each character, explaining with your hands. He watches closely.

"And on the other hand we have to argue that Desdemona isn't as innocent as people assume she is. Then we tie both arguments together to explain the tragedy."

"Ok. Lead the way." He says.

About two hours later you're surrounded by half-eaten snacks, more empty Redbulls and a stack of various tapes.

"This Othello guy, he really loves that Desdemaria."

"It's Desdemona. And loves?" You drop the flash cards onto the bed. "He literally kills her." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but only cause he was so mad that she betrayed him." His tone is light, as if he's still pondering. "And he did it to redeem her, you know, so she could go to heaven or whatever. That's kind of love, right?" He rests his chin on his palm, knees crossed up on the bed.

"That's kind of beautiful, Eds. And brilliant. Write that down," you order, gesturing with a pen. He can't help his laugh, murmuring a subtle 'okay bossy.'

"What was that?"

"Nothingggg," he drawls, scribbling down the note. "Now, this is officially the longest I have ever sat down and worked so I think it's time for a break."

He gets up before you can stop him and walks over to the shelf with books, CDs, cassettes; all of your junk.

"This is cute," he says, holding up a framed photo of you and a sad looking, very wet cat. "Yellow galoshes were very in back then."

"Totally, but Bat wasn't a big fan of the rain. Hated getting his ears wet."

"Bat?" He sets back down the frame ever so gently. "Interesting name for a kitty." You continue to speak as he looks through the book titles, nerves in your stomach mixed with some other warm feeling. There's something intimate about having Eddie look around your room.

"I couldn't say my Cs when I was little." You laugh. "He kind of suited it though. He had little flabby bits under his arms that looked like wings." You gesture to your underarm, jiggle it a little. He chuckles.

"There's a cat just like that living under my trailer." He scans the highest shelf as he speaks, balanced on his toes. "I just call her Mews though. Sometimes she'll come up and— wait, what is this?"

You startle off the bed, terrified of what he has found. "Oh, God, what?"

He holds out a sizeable bag of weed.

"Oh, I-" you start.

"If you needed me to teach you how to roll up you should have just asked," he says, fishing for some papers in his pocket. "Can't believe you've been buying from me all this time and haven't smoked any of it." He's shaking his head but smiling nonetheless.

"Oh, it's okay, Eddie. I...I don't smoke." You place a palm over his hands, stop him from peeling open the bag. Suddenly you feel overwhelmingly guilty, your voice gets smaller. "You can have it back if you want. Sorry if I wasted your time." You stare at your shoes.

He puts the bag on the shelf. "You could never." You look at him now, his eyes honeyed brown. "Like I said, you're my favourite customer, but that's not cause you bought so much weed." He's grinning, laughing airily. "Like, a ridiculous amount of weed. But really. You're great to talk to, y'know."

"Really?"

"Sure thing. That, and the fact that you look real pretty when we do talk. You get all flustered and shy." He's smirking.

"Shut up." You shove his arm. "Let's finish this dumb project."

You sit a little closer now, knees crossed under you both and nearly touching as you swap pages of notes to read. But none of it is going in. The words are buzzing on your tongue.

"Eddie?"

He looks up at you.

"I like to talk to you, too."

He shuffled closer, your knees touch. The cutouts on his jeans line up just right; you're skin to skin.

"That's good to know," he drawls, shit eating smirk plastered across both cheeks that fades as fast as it had appeared. "But wait, why the weed?"

You flush from the neck upwards. "Didn't know how else to talk to you," you mumble, but he hears you. "It's also why I kept coming to the Hideout."

"Ohhh, see now that makes sense. Lovely thing like you doesn't belong in that dump." His fingers play with the straggly bits of his ripped jeans, knuckles brushing your knee. He moves his hand up, barely grazing your thigh. "I can't believe you did all that just to talk to me."

You cover your eyes with your fingertips, press hard. "It's dumb, I know," you say. But he doesn't think so.

Eddie takes your wrists, slides his hands up so his palms are against yours. His fingers are warm, calloused and smooth.

"It's not. It's really not." He says, leaning forward.

You whisper "Eddie." And close your eyes.

"Tell me to stop and I'll stop."

You press your lips to his. They're wet, plump from his nibbling. Your hands come to the nape of his neck, hold onto the hair tight. He shudders, pulls back.

"Have you done anything like this before?" His voice is achingly soft, a little higher than you expect. His fingers come to hold your face, thumbs pressed into the space under your eye. You could laugh, cry, shout into the pillows.

"Uh, not with anybody. I tried by myself before but I couldn't figure out how to..." you trail off.

"That's okay. You want to?"

You nod.

"Words please, shy girl," his thumb swipes over your lip.

"Yes, Eddie. Yes."

His hands move to the hem of your shirt. "Can I?" He waits. You lift your arms over your head.

Your bra has a little pink bow right at the centre, but the lining is black. He's hard already. "This just for me?" he asks.

"Uh, kind of," you're smiling a little through the words. "Wear stuff like this normally anyway though. It's soft, see." You, ever so innocent, bring his hand up to feel the band under your arm, just before the cup.

"It is. You're beautiful, though. Don't need this thing." His hands slide back to the clasp. "Can I?"

You breathe out a "yeah."

Not long after he's between your legs and similarly in a state of undress, his tongue flicking at your clit, just one finger working your pulpy walls open but it has you keening.

Your skin is balmy, hands resting on your ribs as you watch him over your rising and falling chest. "Can you cum for me, pretty girl? It'll be easier if you cum first," he says, "if you want to do that part today." He pauses and you whine.

"Yes, please. P-please, Eddie, don't stop." Your hands find his hair, scratching at his scalp. Your back arches up as he adds another finger, cooing at your little sounds of pleasure.

"Such a good girl, gonna give it to me now, yeah?" He sucks harsh on the bead of your clit, tongue pressed flat against it inside his mouth.

"Yes, Eddie, I-ah!" You moan, high in the back of your throat, breaths heavy and quick. Your legs shudder, closing on his head, and he laughs into your cunt, pushing one thigh back out with his free hand.

"Fuck, babydoll, there you are. That's it," he praises as he lays off your clit when you squeal, still gently stroking his fingers up, up, up inside your fluttering walls.

You clasp his cheeks between your hands, bring him up to your face. You're still a little breathless when you ask for a kiss. He happily gives it to you.

Against his lips you plead "Eddie, I want you inside, please. 'M ready now, promise."

He's scooping you up then, both arms steady around your back, and puts you in his lap. Your legs are spread over his, though he's still in his boxers and you tug at the band.

"Off, please."

"So needy. Who knew my shy girl had it in her, hmm?" You do your best to hover over him on shakey legs as he shuffles the boxers off, wiggles them down his legs.

"You ok to be on top? Want you to go at your own pace," he says, hands firm on your waist. You nod at him, baby hairs stuck to your wet forehead.

His eyes are soft, caring, something akin to adoration glimmering in them. "It's probably gonna hurt a little, okay, but not for long. You want to stop at all and we stop, okay? Don't try keep going, even for me."

You press your fingers into the back of his neck, interlocked. "I trust you, Eddie." You rest on his shoulder, suckle at his neck. You love the little purple hues left behind.

You go to move, hesitate. "Can you-I'm not sure how to..."

"Sh, it's okay, I'll talk you through it. Just sit up on your knees for a sec, okay." He takes one hand off your waist, lines himself up. Feeling his head swipe up and down your slit has your knees already buckling. His grip on your flesh tightens.

"Ok. Now, slowly, sit down and take whatever you can. Doing so good for me." He kisses your cheek.

You look down and watch as you lower yourself, knees a little creaky. The second his tip breaches your entrance you yelp, a sharp pinch that had you squeezing your eyes shut.

"You're okay, breathe for me, gorgeous," Eddie says, both hands now on your hips, holding you steady. You heave a breath, sink down more and more.

You relax as the full feeling of Eddie being inside you takes over. He feels heavy inside you, not too thick but enough that your walls can pleasantly squeeze around him.

He's groaning the whole time, lips on your temple murmuring praises into the skin. The second you're fully seated you both gasp, the stretch and depth of him becoming comfortable inside you.

"Shit, you feel perfect inside. So soft and warm." He lets out little grunts, trying to stay as still as he can. You rock your hips forward, clit catching his pubic bone.

"Ah, Eddie! Fuck. So deep." You keep up the rocking, little moans at the beginning of each breath. Eddie's mouth drinks them down.

You stop for a second, walls clenching tight around him. "Is-does it feel ok for you?"

"Yeah, it's better than I could ever even imagine, babe." He brushes hair off your forehead. You wanna try something else?" He moves his hands to your back, slides down to hold the back of your thighs. "Try bounce a little, okay?"

You do as you're told, the drag of his cock along your walls is heavenly. He hisses between his teeth. "Shit, that's it, that's really fucking good, babe."

You lean back on your knees for better leverage and suddenly he's hitting your sweet spot every single time. You nearly scream, clamping a hand over your mouth. Eddie is quick to hold your wrist.

"Nuh uh, lovely girl, want you to make some of those wicked little sounds for me, yeah?" He places two fingers on your clit, pressing down and rubbing quick.

"Oh, Eddie, I think I'm gonna—oh fuck!" You bounce down hard and heavy on his cock as you cum, grip like a vice around him. He laughs underneath you, a sound of pure joy. "Shit, that's fucking insane," he pants.

You nearly slump forward on him but he pushes you back instead, guiding you to lay down. He pulls out slow as you whimper, using your wetness to pump himself hard and fast. "Where'd you want me, pretty?"

Looking up at him with doe eyes you draw circles on your tummy with your fingertip. "Here, Eds, cum for me right here please?"

His eyes screw shut. "Ah-shit." It feels warm and wet on your stomach. You press a fingertip into the hot spurts, bring it to your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut and Eddie groans.

"You're full of surprises, y'know that." He collapses beside you, pulling you in close. "Beautiful, beautiful girl."

"Can I? Be your girl?" you ask, fingertips dancing up his arm.

"Course you can." He whispers into the shell of your ear "My wicked, shy girl."

Sorry that was LONGGGG but I hope u enjoy.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader

[evillandscaper]

Okay guys I'm gonna do a breakdown of a few of my personal hcs for the main 3 of both s1 and s2!!! This includes little doodles of how I draw em differently !!!

Let's start off with Olive :3 there's a LOT under the cut.

Okay, so Olive's really active, right? To me, she's always been brains AND brawn. So since she's out in the sun all the time, she has a tan!

She's also lightly scarred in my version, if you look carefully. Those were gathered out on cases. I hc that she has a LOT of battered uniforms that Otto sews/embroids together. Also, if you squint, you can see my version has light eyebags. It's not that she doesn't sleep, she's just fed up with everyone.

Her hair is messier! She comes into work all prim and proper, but leaves it all disheveled. If it's a more tiring day, she'll run her hand through her hair. Also, red hair tie instead of black, just cause I find it cuter.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olive is half Quebecois, half Vietnamese

- Her last name is Tremblay

- Her full name is Olivia, she just shortens it

- She's terrible at English and can't write an essay to save her life, but is very good at analysis

- She eats green skittles first, and thinks the purple ones are awful

- For their halfiversary, Otto got her an olive branch shaped tie pin that she wears whenever she feels fancy

Next up: OTTO!!

The urge to change his hair was carnal in my soul. It's the Asian canon event. It happened to me, and it happened to him. Just to make things a little bit more fun for me to draw, I let his hair grow out a little bit... yknow the awkward stage after a bowl cut grows out a bit? Yeah, that.

Downturned eyes! Just so he and Olive can contrast a bit more. He's soft, she's sharp. They're silly!!!

I also make sure his mole is always at least partially visible. It's such a cool part of him, and I can't believe they cover it up most of the time in canon...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He always has his blazer undone

- He's an excellent cook, but becomes immediately incompetent once someone is watching

- He's strangely good at identifying plants, and has a habit of picking edible ones and eating them straight from the ground

- He's good at English! Not the best, but better than Olive

- His last name is Garcia

- For their halfiversary, Olive got him a cast iron pan. He doesn't use it to cook, and instead swings it at anyone who makes fun of him or Olive

Next up: OSCAR!!!

I honestly don't have much for Oscar. I love him, but don't think about him that much.

He has messier hair and is just a LOT more disheveled in general!!! Close your eyes in the bullpen at any given moment and I bet you could hear something in the lab blowing up.

He's perpetually sweaty. Damp palm guy. Maybe that's why he keeps dropping gadgets...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He's very bad at telling the time. On vacation, he'll never know what day of the week it is

- He knows how to play the otamatone surprisingly well. He can make them talk, and has conversations with one the way one would with a sock puppet

- He never knows what significant figures to use, so he ends up just ballparking everything and just not measuring in general. Maybe that's why everything in the lab is always blowing up

- He has a full denim outfit saved up for formal occasions. I'm talking denim hat, shirt, jacket, pants, shoes, all denim

- His last name is Collins

OLYMPIA NEXT!!!!

Okay so there's a lot of hearing me out you guys will need to do.

Anna Cathcart is half Chinese and half irish!!! Thus, I gave Olympia monolids to accentuate that factor. I also downturned her eyes and thinned her "lashes" to make it more obvious that I'm portraying her as wasian!

I gave her freckles and rounder glasses for the vibe. She's just a soft character to me, and I really want to make her look the part.

She's got messy hair!! It's based on the little half fringes she had in very early s2, which I thought were adorable. Her ponytail's also higher just so she looks different from Olive!!

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olympia knows floriography, and will get very hurt if you give her the wrong flowers

- Conversely, she thinks she's being really rude if she puts a tansy on someone's desk to show that she's upset and will feel bad about it all day

- She always carries a little salamander named Josh in her pocket

- She can speak Yiddish

- She has a massive storage of those flippable sequin shirts and has one for every occasion

- She put her hair into a ponytail bc of Olive (this one is courtesy of @/starboundsingularities!!!!!), but the more she found herself, the higher up she tied it

- Her last name is Carter-Ng

Next up: Otis!!!

I draw him a little sickly for no particular reason. He's just silly like that.

He's not that different from canon tbh! I have his hair in an undercut because I think it looks cool on him (plus it's easier to draw), and he has eyebags because of ... the vibe.

He has a notch taken out of his ear due to an injury! From what, he won't say .

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He listens to royalty free music unironically

- He's going through his Alan Walker phase

- He has barely legible handwriting, but can draw surprisingly well

- He types like an old man, with the "............" and everything

- His last name is Otis. His full name is Otis Otis. This one is also courtesy of @/starboundsingularities I love it so much

Last but not least: OONA!!!!!

She's really going through it.

Fun fact: Olivia Presti has curly hair!!! That means that Oona should have curly (or at least wavy) hair... but she doesn't. Which is honestly so sad.

But I can always mitigate that, so I draw her hair wavy. I guess it's more extremely frazzled than wavy, but it's the same effect in the end.

EYEBAGS. She doesn't sleep after The Incident. She also has downturned eyes, just because she gives off that vibe.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Oona is a regular customer of a local rage room

- She knows how to use a crossbow to a mildly terrifying extent

- If a flight of stairs has a railing, she'll slide down it. She almost always ends up falling

- Her last name is Silva

- She says she knows how to speak Polish, but she only knows a select few words and doesn't know what they mean. They're all curse words.

- Subsequently, Oona is banned from several Polish restaurants across the city

That's all!! They're all so silly :3

#odd squad #odd squad pbs kids #agent olive #olive odd squad #agent otto #otto odd squad #agent olympia #olympia odd squad #agent otis #otis odd squad #agent oona #oona odd squad #my art #i love them dearly i really do

[awaytobeunshaken]

“NO!” 

Ashton was still trying to get their bearings when they heard Orym’s scream and turned to see him pounding a fist against the rocky ground in front of him, not quite sobbing but certainly getting there, face red and breath hitching. 

He ran to Orym and knelt beside him, catching the already bloodied fist before it could finish its next descent, and grabbing hold of the other hand for good measure. “Stop that. You need to hit something, hit me. I can take it, and I’m pretty sure I’m a little softer.” Orym didn’t answer but met Ashton’s eyes briefly before squeezing his own shut.  

Ashton had barely released Orym’s hands before he was burying his fists in their jacket, holding on like he was drowning. “Bait,” he muttered. “She was fucking bait! They died for nothing, they died for this bullshit, and none of us ever had a chance! And she might be dead now, too, and it’s just... it’s just...” 

“A lot,” Ashton agreed. “I know.” He knew what it was like to have the world be too much, to want to just hide away from it forever. It never really worked out in the long run, even if Ashton was more comfortable with solitude than most. He remembered Orym mentioning that he’d been on his own for a while, and it was clear that he hadn’t taken well to it at all.  

“It’s all fucking a lot,” they repeated. “And I get it, if you need to sit with that for a minute. But I’m here, Laudna’s here, and the rest of our people have to be around here somewhere. And the moon’s still there. It’s not over.” And they put an arm around Orym, resting it on his shoulder, not drawing him in but letting him know he could choose how close he wanted to be. 

Orym took the gesture for what it was, leaning in and permitting the embrace. “I know this world has been unkind to you,” he muttered into Ashton’s chest. “Why do you care so much about saving it?” 

Ashton blinked as the question briefly threw him. Why did anyone care about anything? “Because I know too many people who don’t deserve to see it end like this. And you’re one of ‘em.” Ashton took a look at the desolate landscape surrounding them, his gaze drawn to Ruidus, almost larger than life beyond the horizon. “So when you’re ready, let’s see what we can figure out.” 

#critical role #cr3 #ashton greymoore #orym of the air ashari #ashrym #cr spoilers #c3e51 #cr fic #I! miss! them! so! much! #where are my tanks matthew? #bring them back to me

[writtenjewels]

Biker

Salim took a drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke out slowly. He was leaning against a wall a few feet away from the convenience store entrance-- enough to be a presence but not to intimidate. The others in the gang were a little more conspicuous: revving the engines on their bikes, lounging under the street lamp so anyone drawing close would see them. Salim found the show unnecessary but he came along, anyway.

Across the street was a community building. Salim took Zain there sometimes for swimming lessons. When Salim pulled up with the rest of his gang, he noticed a few cars in the parking lot. Who was in the building at this time of night? All the activities offered were in daylight hours, he was sure.

His unspoken question was answered when the doors opened, releasing about a half-dozen people. Salim studied them hoping for a clue to their purpose in the building. All of them were adults, ranging in age from twenty-something to some who had to be pushing past fifty. They were chatting but were too far away for Salim to hear them. Eventually they all split away from each other, one turning to lock the door.

Now Salim was really curious. Most of them got into cars, but one was heading to the crosswalk. Salim followed that person's progress with growing anticipation. They crossed the street and turned in the direction of the convenience store. Salim could now make out that the person was wearing a black shirt with a snake printed on it and a grey baseball cap. They stepped under the street lamp but their hat made it difficult for Salim to make out the face.

Right on cue, the rest of the gang started revving their engines. Dar called out to the person. The stranger spared Dar little more than a middle finger before going inside the store. Salim was intrigued; he stubbed out his cigarette and followed. He turned toward the candy aisle so he wouldn't be caught, watching the mystery person out of the corner of his eye. They bee-lined straight to the food and grabbed a few things.

“A Red Bull at this time of night?” Salim hadn't meant to say the words out loud. The person turned at his voice and finally, finally Salim got to see their face. It turned out the person was a man-- younger than Salim, with fair skin and dark hair hidden under the cap. He was built on the more slender side but muscular. Handsome, Salim was quick to notice.

“Yep,” the man answered simply. He waved a package of beef jerky in one hand. “It's dinner.” There was a Southern drawl in his voice.

“Bold choice,” Salim remarked, “though not very healthy.” The man raised an eyebrow and took a step forward to sniff the air. Was he smelling Salim?

“You ain't one to talk, Mr. Chimney Stack.”

“My name is Salim,” he corrected automatically.

“Didn't realize we were already getting informal,” the man commented. He brushed past Salim to take a candy bar, too. “So, Salim, you here to measure your dick like your friends out there, or you gonna beat me up for flickin' 'em off?”

“Neither. I was curious what sort of person would give a biker gang the middle finger.”

“Not all of 'em,” the man argued, his eyes flicking briefly to Salim. “Just that one asshole, the one talkin' shit to me.”

“I'm not sure that's much better; he's the leader.” Salim made no effort to hide he was following this time as he walked with the man to the counter. He still hadn't gotten the stranger's name. “Do you like snakes?” he asked. The man looked confused and Salim pointed meaningfully to his shirt.

“How the fuck does a member of a biker gang not know Whitesnake?” the man scoffed.

“I prefer David Bowie.”

“Well who fuckin' doesn't?” the man agreed, smiling. The way his face softened when he smiled made him look younger while still accenting the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. It was charming. “I'm Jason,” he finally supplied.

“Nice to meet you.” Salim shook Jason's hand. “Do you live around here?” he wondered. “I don't think I've seen you around before.”

“Had to take a bus to get here,” Jason explained. He paid for his items and cracked open the Red Bull. “I'm just killin' time until the next bus comes through.”

“What brings you to this part of town?”

“Nothin',” Jason shrugged, dropping his head so the visor of his cap hid his face. “Nothin' special.” Salim sensed a lie but didn't prod it. It really wasn't his business, after all. “I'd better go out and wait for the bus,” Jason spoke up.

“Oh. Yes, of course.” Salim knew his voice sounded heavy with disappointment. He was enjoying Jason's company and didn't want the younger man to go. Jason tilted his head up enough for Salim to see his dark eyes.

“Gimme your cell phone.”

“Okay...” Salim was a little confused why Jason wanted it. The other typed something and handed it back. When Salim checked, he found a new contact.

“In case you wanna talk more about David Bowie,” Jason explained.

“I'm sure I will,” Salim assured him warmly. A faint hint of color lit up Jason's cheeks. He tugged on his cap visor and headed out. Salim watched to make sure the gang didn't bother him, waiting until Jason was out of sight before exiting the store himself.

[Salim, I saw you go in with that American who insulted us,] Dar said. [I hope you set him straight.]

[He got the message,] Salim assured his leader. His fingers brushed against the casing on his cell phone. Jason had certainly gotten a message; just not the one Dar was hoping for.

[this one's been bouncing around in my head for days, y'all. Hope you like it!]

#house of ashes #jason kolchek #salim othman #jason/salim #jalim #jason kolchek x salim othman #jason x salim #modern au

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

well, there’s my first quarter as principal second finished 🥹

so i may be forming a quartet with ate honorsprofessor and my viola friend and as yet unnamed undergrad cellist????? fucking unreal. my life is a dream. etc etc

speaking of ate honorsprofessor she has developed the alarming propensity to TEASE me incessantly, what the actual fuck 😭😭

like i’ll do anything and she’d just roll her eyes and say to the nearest person (usually my viola friend) ‘typical engineer’

we had pretty much my dream rehearsal lineup order for the last rehearsal of quarter: saint-saëns cello concerto no. 1, dvořak 7 third mov, and finishing off with the brahms serenade 1 first mov. i reaaallly wanted to finish with the brahms and tita conductor READ MY MIND!!! mind melding for the win!!!

btw i am insanely jealous of the whole rest of the orchestra from measures 440 to 471 of the first movement of the brahms serenade. they get the most pussy-popping good part and the seconds are fucking TACET. every time i get the biggest stupidest grin on my face that i know i’m going to have to school into neutrality in february when i’m on stage because it just sounds SOOOOOOO GOOD

decided to hang around afterwards to thank tita conductor because. if there’s anything i know it’s that you really should tell the people you care about and are grateful that you care about them and are grateful for them when you can etc.

ate honorsprofessor and viola friend waited for me but since tita conductor was a bit busy i had to wait and told them they could just leave, it was okay, but ate honorsprofessor got up behind me and started SHOVING ME TOWARD TITA CONDUCTOR. GIRL HELP

finally after all the teasing, they let me be and i waited for tita conductor to finish up talking to our trumpet before she waved me into her office

kind of forgot everything i was going to say (didn’t end up drawing her anything, i just wanted to say thank you) so ended up a bit of a wittering mess of gratitude and then she ended up thanking ME which made me into more of a wittering mess

like girl help she was like ‘it’s so symbiotic, we get so much from you, you take away so much’ ‘i only ever have to tell you once to do something and you follow right away’ ‘you pick up on what i ask of you’ ‘you never miss an entrance’ NOOO DONT COMPLIMENT ME I WAS HERE TO THANK YOU—

also asked me how i liked having ate honorsprofessor in my section and told me that when ate honorsprofessor came to her, she told her ‘you’ll be meeting the principal second, em lastname’ and apparently ate honorsprofessor cut her off to say ‘oh i KNOW em! don’t tell her i’m coming, i want to surprise her!’ 😭🫣

well. i was, in fact, very surprised.

also the fact that the brahms serenade 1 first movement and haydn 104 finale both began with folksy drones was not intentional (but she thought it was a good observation on my part. and she also pointed out the similar opening motifs for both. which i hadn’t noticed)

(that didn’t have to do with anything i was just genuinely curious if it was intentional)

tita conductor was also like ‘i know you will be working hard for us over break, but make sure to make time for your own music too’ 😭😭😭😭😭 u right u right i have been neglecting the third movement of the bach concerto in a………….. but also that was kind of your fault so……………… jk

also i helped her put a photocopy of a score she was studying into a pronged folder that looked like it definitely had seen better days and she was like ‘lookit, it’s so compact and it weighs nothing at all!’ and tossed it up and down, looking genuinely delighted. it was pretty cute of her

anyways my god i never thought i’d be able to do this in my first ‘real orchestra’, i never thought i’d have an opportunity like this, and i couldn’t stop thanking her i am sure it was getting annoying but my god i’m just so grateful i don’t care if it spills out of me every which way i’m glad to let it all out. i’ve never had to do anything like this in my life and of course i’m going to make sure i do it right and of course i’m going to give it my all

tl;dr: january 9 could not come more quickly.

#em jumped up busker

[lassieposting]

God though

There are multiple references to "the General" building the Little Palace as a safe haven for Grisha. As in this General, General Kirigan, not a previous persona of Aleksander's from a long time ago.

So the Little Palace must be fairly recent? Within Kirigan's believable lifetime. So it hasn't really been that long since Grisha were living in hiding, or in tiny hidden villages, or whatever. Outside of his time in the army - throughout various lives - this is probably the most people he's ever had living and working and learning around him at one time.

And. If the Little Palace is where all the new baby Grisha are brought to grow up and study, and it's also where he lives and works most of the time, he's going to cross paths with the children a lot.

I love the idea that sometimes he's just. Accosted, by small Grisha. In the hallways or the gardens. Because the Little Palace is safe, and they're too young to remember how it was before, how dangerous it would've been for them. And the Black General is feared and respected and hated in equal measure at court and across the borders, but these children, growing up under his protection, have no fear of him at all, even as a near-stranger. To them anyone in a kefta is part of their family.

And like. This is bizarre beyond belief for him - for all the adult Grisha who grew up before he made a deal with the King - at first. Baghra beat it into him young that he should never trust anyone, not even other Grisha, for desperate men will do terrible things to survive. Always a litany of rules to keep him safe, to stay one step ahead of the otkazatsya. Don't tell them your name. Don't summon where they might see you. Don't wander too far or the Druskelle will snatch you. Don't let anyone touch you, or they'll kill you for your bones. Love no one, boy, it makes you weak.

And now, suddenly, that is over. These children will never know that fear, will never understand what it is to be hunted for existing, with nowhere safe to turn. They will always have a bolt hole to return to, in the Little Palace. And he finds that he doesn't really know how to deal with that - with how much more trusting it makes them.

A procession of small children passes him in the corridor as he's talking to Ivan, and a little girl at the end of the line stops to tug at the sleeve of his jacket. When he looks down, she holds up a tiny flame cupped in her hand like she wants to give it to him to hold. Her front teeth are missing. I can make it by myself now, she announces through a thick lisp. Every instinct he has is screaming at him to close his hand over hers, quash that flame and hiss at her the same reproach he'd always get when he used his abilities somewhere he could be seen, where he could've put them both at risk. He has to remind himself that that was a different world, and a fear this girl will never truly understand. He blinks, and his throat feels dry and scratchy when he manages to choke out, Well...well done. Keep, uh. Practicing. As the child darts away after her classmates, he meets Ivan's eyes, as wary and mistrustful as his own, and can tell he's thinking the same thing.

He loses count, over the decades, of the number of children who shyly sidle up to him to ask him questions. He's used to being the subject of curiosity, at court. He's used to being feared, too. Hated. But these young Grisha, their curiosity is untainted, friendly even. You're General Kirigan, aren't you? Is it true you can summon shadows? What's your horse's name? How many battles have you won? My pa's First Army, an' he says he would'a never come back from Ryevost if you didn't come help 'em, so...thank you. Do you really get to go to the Grand Palace and see the king?

Alina finds a drawing hidden among a stack of papers in the top drawer of Kirigan's desk - a smiling boy surrounded by a sea of happy people in blue and red and purple, and a single figure in black. The words My Famlee have been painstakingly scrawled in a top corner in a very young child's shaky hand. The parchment is yellowed with age and battered around the edges, the colours have faded - this picture is old, certainly old enough that the child who made it must be a child no longer. She's never thought of Aleksander as someone sentimental enough to keep a child's picture; she's far too young to have any idea how it twisted up his insides, a bittersweet kind of grief, to see young Grisha feeling safe and happy and valued as he never had. The precious result of a lifetime of struggle and sacrifice. A reminder of what he'd achieved for his people, made for him by a boy with no idea of the trauma he'd been spared.

Fedyor tells Alina a story over drinks one evening, about the time a misplaced toddler from the creche wandered into the war room, and Kirigan conducted half of a morning briefing while valiantly trying to ignore their attempts to climb onto his lap, before giving in and spending the other half stiff-backed and tense with the little wretch on his knee, happily colouring in a map of Ravka so messily it had made the muscle in Kirigan's jaw twitch. Does him good to get pushed out of his comfort zone once in a while, he tells her. Reminds him he's human.

A kid falls over in the courtyard and starts to cry, and Alina goes over to pick them up and dust them off and give them a hug, because she's done her share of helping out with the younger kids back at the orphanage. She's no stranger to a scuffed knee. Aleksander follows behind her to hover at her shoulder, like he doesn't know what he ought to do, while the child sniffles into their sleeve and Alina tidies their hair. She feels him move behind her, and the child suddenly bleats out a laugh, high and delighted. He's crouched down like she is, his hand outstretched, and a little horse figure made of shadows is gambolling in the air inches above his palm. The child is transfixed, scraped knee forgotten. He glances over at her, eyebrow raised, and she gets the strangest feeling he's looking for her approval, confirmation that he reacted correctly.

You make me a better man, he told her once, as though she was the only person ever to have that effect on him.

She isn't. She sees it, even if he doesn't. The Grisha he's protecting make him a better man, too.

Just. Local scary shadow-summoner army general completely bewildered by friendly kids, more at 11

#sab headcanons #aleksander kirigan #like? everything he does he does for the grisha he's protecting #and it wouldve been nice to see him actually interact with them #ivan is child-avoidant #kirigan has no idea how to deal with them but he's trying his best #and fedyor has like 12 younger siblings and hes just 'wow you guys suck' #anyway yeah give me kirigan learning to be a person and also to live with other people #after a lifetime of being a hunted prey animal #sab

[gojocatboy]

The Bride of Sukuna, ch. 2

Angel eyed the stuffed creature wearily. To the fluffy things credit, it looked lifelessly back.

“And you brought them back here,” the principal stated, for what felt like the umpteenth time.

“‘Course. I’m meeting with the higher ups about Itadori, might as well see if the ‘bride of Sukuna’ will give them a heart attack to finish em off,” Satoru said brightly, adding air quotes to his speech.

“They don’t have any cursed energy, which is interesting. But how do we know they won’t immediately go to Sukuna?” Yaga continued.

“‘They’ are right here. And I have no intention of being anywhere near that four-armed beast,” Angel stated, wrinkling their nose in disgust. Their mouth flooded with the memory of that creatures vile blood.

“Ahh, the angel does have attitude!” Satoru jumped in. Angel shot him a withering glare.

“I don’t know how long I’ve slept, or been dead, or…whatever happened for me to be encased in stone, but I am not his bride, or promised one, whatever this age calls me now,” Angel stated firmly.

I hope this is the right move. Angel thought to themself.

“The point still stands that your power amplifies Sukuna’s. It would be wise to limit what energy he has while the vessel is so new,” Yaga stated.

“Vessel?” Angel asked, heart dropping. Satoru turned his head in her general direction, a questioning look passing over his features.

“Either way, I suspect that the elders will want to execute our angel here, the best thing being that they can act as bait for Sukuna if itadori does fail at handling him,” Satoru said. He grinned at Angel. “Really, the elders’ first mode of action is just to—“ he ran a finger across his throat, sticking his tongue out dramatically as he made dying noises.

“They’re not very smart,” Angel observed.

“Nope! See Yaga? Even a person who’s been here for all of an hour sees how shortsighted our higher ups are,” he said brightly.

“We will have to measure Angel’s abilities, given you’re able to persuade the elders to keep them alive,” Yaga said.

“Aw, don’t be so pessimistic, they love me!” Satoru said cheerfully as he sidled out of the room, grinning from ear to ear.

“So, can your friend stop staring me down?” Angel asked, gently nudging the stuffed creature away.

“No can do. You’re under guard until Gojo returns,” Yaga replied, waving a hand. A massive lumbering beast approached, tongue lolling out lazily. Angel grimaced, sitting down.

“I get it,” they grumbled.

~~~

Angel had dozed off in the hours that they waited. They awoke, head tucked against one wing as the other enveloped them in a feathery blanket. The two stuffed animals remained on guard, casting barely a glance at them as they sat up, rubbing a palm into their eye.

“They awaken,” satoru said brightly. Angel jumped, drawing their wings around them defensively.

“Sorry, sorry, Shoko has been telling me to stop scaring people like this,” Satoru said, squatting down in front of them.

“So am I dying?” Angel asked.

“Well! Good news, not right now. Bad news, probably in the future,” satoru said.

“And why must I die?” Angel sighed.

“You don’t know the legend, huh? Suppose you’ve been sleeping for centuries, so you wouldn’t know how convoluted it’s become,” Satoru said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“The official Sorcerer stance is that the ‘bride’ of Sukuna made it so that he was unkillable from the lovebite that they administered him. The golden poison you have supposedly made it so that he would be able to return when the time was right, and so the two cursed lovebirds would return once more, to rule an age of demons,” Satoru said.

“What do you believe?” Angel asked.

“Me? I think there’s a bit of truth to it. I don’t think you’re as loyal to Sukuna as the stories make you out to be, given that you weren’t exactly excited about his reappearance,” Satoru said.

This one is dangerous. He was dropping information to see my reactions Angel couldn’t help but feel a little impressed with him.

“No, what I did was…not in his favor,” Angel said. They knew that much at least.

“Interesting. Not so romantic yeah?” Satoru sighed dramatically.

“Don’t tell me you believed in that,” Angel said, feathers ruffling in alarm. Satoru burst into laughter.

“No, no! You should see your face! You look like a startled chicken!” Satoru cackled, pointing a finger at them.

“Hmmph,” Angel pouted, crossing their arms over their chest. They focused on smoothing down their feathers, waiting indignantly for the man to stop laughing at their misfortune.

The truth was, they did have a soft spot for Sukuna once upon a time. But that was long ago, further before either of them even knew their special abilities. Had grown into their true selves.

Angel studied the man in front of her. Did he know what it was like, to have to betray the one he loved?

#gojo satoru x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gn reader #the bride of Sukuna

[uncaaj]

Fanfic: Blade Runner Starring Donald Duck Chapter 5 - The Yukon Lead (DuckTales x Blade Runner)

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | chapter 5 | MORE COMING SOON...

READ NOW ON AO3!

I found myself rewatching Gladstone’s encounter with Launchpad on the ride back into town. It was so chilling how quickly and effortlessly the deed was done. The 5Y’s eyes twitched with every question asked. They were desperate, cornered, empty. This difference brought me some measure of comfort with this assignment. I smirked, pushing down my slight anxiety.

“‘More human than human’?” said Feth. I turned toward him. The bright red Coo-Coo Cola billboard coated Feth in red light. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

“Better buy it,” I remarked. “It’s the only way we might make it out of this job.”

“D’ya think we’ll be able to tell? Even without the V.K.?”

I nodded toward the ground. “We gotta find ‘em first.”

+++

I didn’t know whether or not Launchpad gave Gladstone a legit address. It was a tall rectangular building in a seedy part of town. A golden sign in an old-time Western font read ”Yukon.” Rain pelted the trash on the streets, scattered around the sidewalk like man-made weeds growing into the cracks. It was a dump, but it was the only lead I had, so we had to check it out.

The guy who let us into the joint was a creep, sucking in lungfuls through a mask from the oxygen mask he wheeled around. He wheezed as he unlocked the door. I looked at Feth. He nodded at me, hand at the ready to draw. I nodded back and assumed the same stance.

The old man opened the door and I took one step over the threshold. Empty, dark. Like a lot of things around here.

Satisfied enough we weren’t about to be jumped, I walked in proper. What little light streamed in through the window was adequate to case the joint. I could still see how basic and utilitarian this place was. The living room was mostly barren. Generic bed, generic nightstand, generic desk, generic chair. There was a bathroom to the left of me. I heard the faint buzz of fluorescents struggling for life. I tapped them and they lit the place in cold, cheap light. Generic mirror, generic backsplash, generic sink. I pushed the generic shower curtain aside and peered into the tub. Through the shadows cast, I could see debris inside. I reached in slowly and touched a dark stain on the inside. It was gel-like, with the the rough coating of the tub mingled in. How fresh this substance was, I couldn’t place. Hovering my hand over one of the debris pieces, I touched it and it lifted away with my finger. It was shiny, with a white and tan pattern marbled throughout, almost like an animal scale of some sort. Definitely uncommon around these parts. And Replicants didn’t have scales. I took a small baggy out from my pocket and carefully slid the scale inside, snapping the opening shut with haste.

I headed out into the living room again, letting the neon absorb into me. Feth stood off to the side, placing another paper figure onto the nightstand. “What is it this time, Feth?” I asked.

“Origami,” he said, “the ancient art of folding paper. It calms the mind and engages the spirit.”

I knew he liked to have someone to listen to him. And I missed hearing him talk about his weird hobbies, if I’m being frank.

I went over to the chest of drawers. The drawers creaked as I pulled them open. The top one had a newspaper inside, with a mysterious fluorescent mark on it. I didn’t want to know what that could be. Pulling out a drawer near the middle gave me neatly folded clothes, blue jeans, flannels. Digging deeper, I found dozens of Polaroids, all fairly recent if the smell was any indication. I fished out a handful and looked them over. They were pretty standard fare, family poses, smiling faces, an air of togetherness from one picture to the next. Replicants didn’t have families. I had a feeling this is how McDuck Corp. was “implanting memories” into their 5Ys. Innocent keepsakes with devious intentions behind the ink. I pocketed them.

It felt like that’s all this lead had to offer me-scales, some insignificant family photos, and a whole lot of questions. But I’ve moved mountains with less.

A trash can clattered to the ground, its metallic din echoing throughout. I shot Fethry a look.

“Wasn’t me,” he whispered, nodding his head toward the window.

We both glanced outside. 30 stories below, a figure stood in the middle of the street looking up at us. They immediately glanced down, stuffing their hands in their coat and walking off, kicking the trash can we heard and stepping over its scattered contents.

I turned back to Feth. He looked like a deer in headlights. He stuttered and waved his hands as if that would help him form words. “Yeah,” I confirmed for him, “Launchpad.”

Feth reached for his piece and I shushed him, shaking my head. He slowly let go of his gun and squeezed his hands. “Listen,” I whispered, “I need you to tail this guy, find out where he’s hidin’ out now. Do not engage, you hear me? He’s the tank. Dangerous. Do not mess with him. I’ll meet up with you later, yeah?”

Feth gulped, looking out the window again for a moment. His shaky breath clouded in the cold air. “You can do this. You gotta,” I said, “You wanted in, right? You gotta.” 

He gently nodded. I nodded back, and we filed out of the Yukon.

#ducktales #donald duck #fanfiction #disney ducks #duckverse #blade runner #fethry duck #daisy duck #crossover #launchpad mcquack

[pensiveabstraction]

15 questions 15 mutuals

ty @dont-leafmealone and @elfinfair for the tags

were you named after anyone? for my deadname one of my middle names was the same middle name as my mum, my new first name and first middle name are indirectly and directly taken from the names of characters i like

when was the last time you cried? i think it was, i finally watched into the spiderverse for the first time like two months ago seeing all the hype abt the sequel, and when the big sad emotional climax moment happened, the one during the big fight, i was crying, not silent leaking eyes maybe sniffling a bit, like full on open mouthed sobbing. shit just hit me rly hard, that movie's so good

do you have kids? nah

do you use sarcasm a lot? i think so yeah. unfortunately i am also extremely monotone so i frequently have to be like 'no i was kidding' bc out lout my normal voice and sarcasm voice must sound a lot closer together than in my head

what's the first thing you notice about people? idk i guess i notice if their clothes style and whether face looks like someone i know/know of

what's your eye color? greenish-grey last time i checked

scary movies or happy endings? both. depends what mood im in tbh. if im watching a movie i dont usually have a huuuge preference of genre, i tend to prefer stories w somewhat developed characters who have arcs so u'd think that'd make me averse to scary films where the characters r sometimes neglected/used as a blank slate to experience The Horror through the eyes of but i ALSO rly like well built up tension and just,,, interesting creepy vibes. i usually try to stay open minded w watchin stuff. however there are times when i feel down and just wanna watch some dudes fuck around and have everything come up alright in the end

any special talents? hmm. man idk. im pretty good at making minecraft skins does that count lol.

where were you born? england and i shall say no more

what are your hobbies? writing, reading fics (do not look how many bookmarks i have on ao3 why would you need to), drawing's fun. used to watch twitch a bunch but the main streamer id watch aint comin back so w for my sleep schedule ig

have any pets? yes a dog he is an old man he looks sort of like a skeletal dark souls creature (not through maltreatment he eats like a king his breed r just skinny asses lol)

what sports do you play/have you played? netball, softball, cricket, bit of tag rugby, loads of rounders, street hockey was my fav out fo em i was pretty ok at defending (all of these r from when i was still in p.e. classes in high school idk if that counts but its what i got)

how tall are you? last i checked 165cm (like 5,5 in the other measures i think)

favorite subject in school? hmm. probably either art or english. though i only rly got an appreciation for english when i did this additional gifted kid project thingy and rather than just literally tell us an interpretation of a text to memorise for an exam the teachers gave us a bunch of analytical lenses to choose from to analyse a text and i was like "yo wait interpreting meanings from the text is kinda fun when you havent got bitches in your ear telling you 'ok so this is exactly what the author meant and you just need to memorise that and write it in the test'"

dream job? i honestly have no idea. i wouldve said author once but i enjoy doing it for fun, i dont think id be able to make smth publishable and if i somehow did i feel like itd ruin it. if i had some kind of like repetetive but simple task and i just had to do it over and over, maybe listen to music or a podcast or smth in one ear i feel like so long as i earnt a decent amount id be cool with it. i am a simple little guy my dreams amount to 'eh id like to do some cool stuff :]'

i dont think i have 15 mutuals so ill just tag a bunch @jctko @thinkingjasico @captainchibi @zodismegalame @aroacekitty @glummar @ablueeyedarcher @erisenyo

#tag game

[obituaried-a]

@pyrrh1c asked: Sneaking up behind his boyfriend, JJ wore a wide grin on his lips moments before he slings his arm over Yejun’s broad shoulders, “ Hey, remember how you said you liked my jacket? The fuzzy black one? ” In his free arm sat the very same jacket, in a light khaki tone, which JJ handed to him. “ Happy Valentine’s Day, we’ll finally get our own dating scandal! ” He teased, placing a kiss to his cheek. “ You’re coming with me to Hongdae. Yunjin gave me the OK, so I got something booked for us. Here’s a hint, ” leans in closely to his ear, whispering, “ tattoo parlour. ”

Mid moments of brushing his teeth and being held from behind by JJ, or any of their other members was to be expected. Welcomed. He feels his lips curl and his cheeks grow hot at the touch, and as he turns and sees the coat in JJ's arms... matching the fuzzy black coat he did love dearly... he puts his toothbrush down, mouth full of toothpaste and water even as he exclaims, " huh?! " Turns and spits all the liquid from his mouth as he paws his hands to grab the coat, "JJ! You seriously got it?!?" He remembered last he checked, the online shop had been sold out. "I'm pretty sure you and I are a walking dating scandal. Let's have 'em thinking we're engaged or something now, wearing these." He peels away from the embrace, if only for a moment to immediately put the coat on. To then lean into the kiss, eyes closing for a moment. Bliss, truly.

He felt tranquil and elated right here, right now. Enough to quickly peck JJ on the lips, just for good measure. Just to show his utter appreciation. " Hm...? Hongdae? Booking...? What for? " He's guessing they were gonna shop, maybe get a meal or something upon a reservation. To which, Yejun was thinking he might need to quickly go grab his wallet, as he'd wanna treat JJ to something nice today too and-- his thoughts are interrupted by those two words whispered in his ear. Tattoo parlor. The two of them joked many times about that idea. About matching words to signify how comfortable they were with each other. Going as far as to draw up the lettering and picking out what words it would say... As they'd sit and talk for hours about all the 'firsts' they'd experience with each other. First tattoos was a huge one.... and Yejun leans back against the counter to stare in awe of his boyfriend.

It was a big step, "... the tattoos...? You're not kidding around.... Really? " His heart feels as if it can ignite, catch flame, and swallow them both up in the blaze. As if JJ couldn't keep surprising him more and more with these blatant displays of his love. Such a passionate feeling deep within him as he quickly throws his arms around JJ with an enthusiasm that can only be described as 'all consuming'. " JJ! Ah..!! Don't make me cry, you jerk! " He lightly pinches his shoulder as he squeezes him, eyes watering as he does, into a back-breaking hug. " Thank you... Happy Valentine's Day... " This gesture was one of finality. Of them spending their lives together. A promise for forever. Yejun couldn't squander it if he tried.

#YOU MAKE HIM EMOTIONAL JJ #STOP THIS MADNESS #he's feeling so much love rn ;-; #VERSE: NO SPIN #but god hes gonna return this tenfold with affection and time #he knows that JJ values that above anything else #pyrrh1c #JJ.

[fatexbound]

@webbedphantom said:

[White Day Ask for Haru]

She'd find some gourmet chocolates and a bouquet of flowers (the same ones he'd gotten her for Valentine's Day, actually), alongside a handmade card resting on her desk as she got to class that day. The card itself had an intricate pattern of flowers and vines on the front, surrounding a comparatively crude, but also kinda cute, drawing of a sheep wearing the hat from her Phantom Thief costume.

Opening it up revealed an SD taped inside, as well a brief message from him.

"Happy White Day, Haru! Got a little surprise for you. Slap that SD card in your phone, and open the app inside. Password is BeautyThief."

Doing so unlocked a camera feed of the school rooftop, with different angles for her to choose from, and a way to review the footage, along with one last message.

"I told Futaba about what happened to your plants, so we worked together to make you this! Placed a bunch of very tiny cameras I made around the roof, and she made the app to let you tap into 'em. If anyone tries to mess with them again, we'll catch 'em red-handed!"

He did consider adding actual security measures, but the cameras were already bending the school rules, and he didn't want to push his luck. Still, he hoped she'd appreciate the gesture.

White Day asks | Not accepting

Since he was the only one who caught her eye and was interested in her, Haru expected nothing but the best White Day gifts from Aaron. On her desk were gourmet chocolates that she couldn't help but take a bite out of to taste their sweetness, the same flowers on her Valentine's Day card and another one that was so well-made, she ran her digits through it as she read the contents.

"An SD card for my phone..." She was inept at handling technology, but this was easy enough to do and she opened the app in no time. Just like he said, a view of the garden was right there in front of her. Her plants seemed to be doing well today.

"Wow, this is incredible! Revolutionary, even!" He did all of that for her... it made her cheeks warm up thinking about it. "I'll have to thank him properly later."

#webbedphantom #Haru answers; #We'll Meet Again Someday | Post!P5R Haru #long post #White Day 2024 #this is very late 'cause low muse but thank you for sending!

[leaderpinhead]

Harry (OC) - Spice Is Life

“Sugar, spice, and everything nice—these are the essential ingredients to any cake!”

Harry groaned and flopped back into her chair. She didn’t care about the dirty glares the other girls shot in her direction. She absolutely adored Mother Flowers, but she equally abhorred the mother’s home economics class. It was so boring!

Which was why—for the third year in a row—Harry was subjected to this never-ending torment.

Min politely cleared her throat beside Harry. That got most of the girls to turn back towards the front where Mother Flowers never broke her stride, enthusiastically drawing a twelve-tiered, lopsided cake on the chalkboard.

When the last set of eyes turned away from them, Min leaned closer to Harry to whisper. “Harry.”

“What?”

Harry’s blunt tone made many of the girls turn back to them. Mother Flowers happily pulled out buckets of sprinkles from beneath her desk, oblivious to Harry’s obvious disgruntlement. Min sighed again. None of the girls would meet Min’s eyes when she stared straight back at them. Cowards, the lot of ‘em. This was why Harry couldn’t get a decent dodgeball team together in PE.

“I know you don’t like baking,” Min whispered, acting like they hadn’t already disrupted the class twice now, “but this is literally the last credit you need to graduate! The Head Godmother won’t allow anyone to graduate without at least one home ec class.”

“I don’t wanna bake cakes though,” Harry groaned. She flopped forward onto the table, her long ears nudging a set of mixing bowls. She expertly twitched her hare ears to knock over a bottle of vanilla extract. “Baking is boring. I’d rather just eat store-bought cake.”

“What if Maddox wanted a cake for a tea party?”

“Mads prefers jam toast.” Harry stretched her arms across the table. Her fingers tapped against a set of measuring cups. “He doesn’t love me for my baking skills. He loves me for my energetic spoon playing. Wanna see?”

Harry snatched up two wooden mixing spoons and started clanking them together. Another round of glares just made her play more aggressively. Mother Flowers giggled around her giant tub of blue frosting. “What wonderful rhythm you have, Harriet! You should play for Mother Annie. I’m sure she’d find the perfect place for you in the orchestra!”

Harry shot Min a See? I told you! look. Min sighed and shook her head. She didn’t bother speaking in whispers again. “Just bake the cake, Harry. I told Phyllis I'd be sure you passed this class this year. Do you want to have to go through this for another year?”

Harry frowned and stacked her spoons on the table. Min was right—she didn’t want to spend another year here. Not when she was only a few months away from complete freedom. Four years at the Mourning Dove Institute should be classified as torture.

Harry tucked her hands into her lap and impatiently listened to the rest of Mother Flowers’ instructions. When they were released to work on their tiered cake, she turned directly to Min. She bowed deeply at the younger girl, who only blinked back at her with confusion. “Oh, wise Kai-Ming. Share with me your secrets of the cake baking.”

Min’s pale face blossomed with color. She swatted at Harry’s ears. “Stop that! Let’s just follow the instructions Mother Flowers gave us.”

Instructions were boring though, and it quickly became apparent to Min why Harry had failed the same class twice. Harry didn’t make it a secret after all. “Why can’t we add more cinnamon to the batter?”

“Because the recipe doesn’t call for cinnamon at all.”

“Well, that’s a bad recipe then. We should fix that.”

“Harry, don’t.”

“What about this then?”

“Why did you grab red pepper flakes?”

“Mother Flowers said it herself—spice is an essential ingredient to make any cake.”

“She didn’t mean that kind of spice.”

“She should have been more specific then! Why can’t we make a carrot cake? I’d learn how to make that if it was my mum’s carrot cake.”

Min sighed and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. The gesture left behind a streak of flour, which she didn’t notice because she was too busy placing greased cake pans in front of Harry. “Just fill these up. Mother Flowers said they don’t have to be exact measurements. You can at least do that, Harry.”

Instead of taking offense to the growing attitude Min voiced, Harry happily obliged. It filled her with unfettered glee to see the imperfect measurements across the set of pans, one pan barely filled with batter while another was near overflowing. It was a testament to how insane Mourning Dove Institute’s rigid rules made Harry. “Done!”

“Now we bake them for—Harry no!”

“Harry, yes,” Harry said with the same unfettered glee. She shook heaps of red pepper flakes across the tops of five cake pans before Min stopped her. “We need more spice.”

“We’re going to fail,” Min groaned. She whipped around to look at the clock and back again. It was just enough seconds for Harry to sprinkle more pepper flakes in the other cake pans. “We don’t have time to redo the batter and frost the cake. We’ll just have to make do.”

Min popped the back of Harry’s hand every time she tried to do anything for the rest of the class period. By the time their lopsided tiered cake was haphazardly decorated with blue frosting, Harry thought she would vibrate out of her chair. “Can I just—.”

“No.”

“Just one tiny—.”

“No.”

“All right, girls!” Mother Flowers cheerfully announced at the front of the class. “All of your cakes look absolutely scrumptious! I’ve asked Mother Mary to help me with the taste testing, so I hope you are all prepared.”

Harry’s cackle drew the attention of the entire classroom. Min slapped her forehead with enough force to leave a noticeable red mark. Just as Harry had hoped, Mother Mary made a beeline for their table, her stomping gait matching her perpetual glower. Harry gleefully held out a slice of their cake to the mother. “Mother Mary! Try ours first!”

“You better bet I’ll be judging your cake the harshest,” Mother Mary grumbled. She snatched the plate from Harry. Harry had to tuck her hands under her thighs to keep from bouncing out of her chair. “This is your third attempt at Fairy’s Birthday Cake. I expect perfection at this point.”

“Oh, it’s perfect, all right,” Harry cackled. Min had left the table to bury her face into one corner of the classroom. Mother Flowers hovered over her with concern. “Very perfect with no lack of spice.”

“There is no spice in Fairy’s Birthday Cake,” Mother Mary said around a mouthful of cake. Her thorough chewing gradually slowed. Sweat began to form on her wide brow. “What in the name of—why is it so spicy?”

“Because spice is an essential ingredient to every cake!”

Harry didn’t hear Mother Mary’s biting comments over her loud cackling. Nor did she hesitate recalling every second of the baking process later when her and Min were carted off to face the Head Godmother. The Head Godmother only sighed afterwards and turned to the huffing, puffing Mother Mary. “Really, Mary? I would think you would have learned your lesson at this point too. Were you not out an entire week with food poisoning the last time you tested Harriet’s food?”

Harry didn’t mind the passing grade she received in home ec at the end of the semester, nor did she argue with Mother Flowers when the lovely woman nervously asked her to never bake another cake again.

#twisted wonderland #original characters #twstober #day 19 spice #TwstMarchHare #TwstMulan #worldbuilding #i gave Twisted Wonderland an all girls academy #Where twst versions of the fairies from sleeping beauty teach #and their headmage is a twst fairy godmother from Cinderella #Harry is a chaos gremlin

[bokettochild]

Head cannons about Legend's uncle? Because I head cannon that he's one of the sweetest and naive hylians Legend knows (how that man became a knight is beyond him), and Legend takes it upon himself to protect his uncle. Also, his uncle is a worse hoarder than him, keeping all the baby clothes and toys

Okay, so you set me up. I hope you don't mind, but I couldn't think of any headcannons off the top of my head, so I just wrote a fic about Legend gushing about his Uncle instead :)

“Mr. Hero?” Ravio’s voice rung through the house, startling Legend up from the mending he was doing to his tunic and drawing his attention to the merchant, who stared at him in confusion and held up a very tiny piece of clothing. “Why do you have baby clothes kept in the basement?”

Warriors, who had parked his ass on the couch, raised a brow, smiling brightly at the team vet. “Ooh, got something to fess up to, vet?”

“Fess up?” Hyrule glanced from hero to hero “For what? Why is it bad to have baby clothes?”

“Didn’t figure you for the type.” Warriors continued, earning more confused glances from the younger ones as he wiggled his brows suggestively.

Legend rolled his eyes. “Shup. They’re my old clothes, not something for a secret love-child, you dirty-minded twat.” He looked back to Ravio. “Stop getting into my stuff, Ravio, or I will evict you.”

“But why do you have it?” Ravio pressed, holding the clothing article up and out of Legend’s reach as the vet walked across the room to grab it, the merchant taking full advantage of the two inches he had over his counterpart and the fact that he was wearing shoes while Legend wasn’t. “You can’t wear it again.”

“It’s mine. Would you-” The vet tripped in his attempts to dart over and grab the thing, faceplanting on the ground with a scowl and pulling himself up to glare at Ravio, who only offered an apologetic smile in return, and the tiny sleeper as if it was an apology gift.

“I guess you could fit in it.” Twilight hummed, smirking. “If you shrunk.”

The allusion to being a rabbit was clear between the three who knew, and Sky snickered as Legend scowled. Regardless, the vet carefully smoothed and folded the sleeper, fussing over it like there was a baby still inside.

“Are you saving them for when you have kids?” Wind asked, leaning over to watch, bright eyes sparkling even brighter at the veteran who flushed softly.

“See? Not just me!” Warriors crowed.

Legend sighed, running a hand over his face. The others really couldn’t leave well enough alone, could they? “No, my uncle saved them. He didn’t like throwing things out, said everything was a memory.” The vet glanced around the house, as if taking in the items around him. The others followed his gaze, taking note of the instruments, masks, weapons and other paraphernalia lining the walls. “He didn’t like to let go of the past, he always wanted something to look back to.” A soft smile pulled at the vet’s lips, eyes glowing softly with a warmth he rarely showed to the whole chain. “He was a sentimental sort, I suppose.” Not that Legend appeared to be the same way or anything, nope.

“What else did he like doing?” Wild prompted, as if recognizing the cloudy look in the vet’s eyes.

Legend smiled, chuckling softly and shaking his head. “He loved apples, I guess. Planted that orchard out there really. I s’pose he never had much time to tend it, what with being a knight ‘n all, but he was pleased as pie when I took to it. He always used to come home and inspect the apples first thing, just look at ‘em, touch ‘em, an’ he’d tell me how far along he thought they were. The first year we got a good haul he taught me how to make cider, his own special brew.” Ther vet’s eyes softened, a faraway expression taking over and smoothing the lines on his brow. “I never got it right. Couldn’t measure for shit.” The teen chuckled again. “I’m shit at math.”

“The same.” Time hummed; eyes fixed on Legend as the lad continued to stand and stare off into space.

“Guess he didn’t mind though.” The vet continued. “He said he liked the wild taste, made it more like home or somethin’.” A shrug. “I guess it is kinda like his ma’s pie, so it does kind remind of the farm he grew up on, ‘cept, I s’pose it’s a ranch. Lon Lon Ranch actually. His folks still run the place, raise the best horses in all of Hyrule.” Legend puffed up with those words, a faint flush dusting over his cheeks and ears. “S’pose that’s how he even made it to bein’ a knight. He was a decent swordsman, but softest hearted bloke you ever did see. He was a master at taming and trainin’ the horses though, and there’s not a mare in the castle’s stable that he didn’t work with. He taught me nearly everything I know, an’ what he didn’t share, Gran filled in. Everything from horses to husbandry -the plant sort, not the family kind.”

“Everything?” Wind repeated, looking shocked.

“Very nearly.” The vet shrugged. “I mean, I learned a lot on my adventures, but I’d’ve never made it that far if not for him.” The vet smiled, warm and sad, towards a small picture on one of the walls, one no one had bothered to look closely at before. It showed a man with dark and curly hair, something like Ravio’s if you compared the two, and sparkling indigo eyes. A child, bright eyed and smiling wide enough to show off his oversized front teeth, sat in his lap, pink hair falling into eyes that were squeezed closed in a grin.

“Is that him?” Warriors nodded to another picture, one of a man with flashing violet eyes, the same color as Legend’s own, and a smile that made Warriors’ own charming grin look like a grimace. Legend glanced over, and snorted.

“Nah, that’s Raven. He was...” The pink-haired hero chuckled. “He was my hero growing up, where Uncle wasn’t anyway. Uncle used to tell me story after story about him, our ancestor. Told me how he restored our family’s honor after it was tarnished by the fallen hero; how, even after all of Hyrule scorned him, he still went on to travel the world and become the finest knight this world has ever seen.” The vet smirked. “Full offense, Captain.”

“General.” Warriors corrected.

“Potato, pahtahto.”  The vet waved his hands.

“He told you stories?” Hyrule pressed, as if hoping, just as the rest of them did, that Legend would go on. They’d never heard the lad’s voice go so soft or see his eyes flash that way.  Besides, it was nice to hear about somebody’s family from them, there was a sort of wonder to it that came from seeing through someone else’s eyes.

Legend nodded, slowly, minutely, as if he wasn’t entirely aware of what he was doing or saying at the moment, or was caught in a haze of some sort.  “Yeah. I struggled with insomnia a lot as a kid, still do. Uncle hated seeing me dragging, so on bad nights he’d brew some of his special cider, a whole kettle for the two of us, an’ we’d sit ‘round and tell stories until one of us dropped off. The other always dropped off soon after, an’ we’d wake up in the mornin’ more refreshed than other nights.”

“What were the stories about?” Wild hummed, looking very nearly as dazed as Legend himself, caught up in the warm, rolling lilt of the vet’s accent.

Legend motioned to the wall, the pictures on it specifically. “All sorts of folks. Sir Raven, the Fallen Hero, Great Granmalon,” A light flush stole over the vet’s face as he ducked his head, surprisingly childish as he admitted to the last one. “The Heroes of the Four Sword.”

That had Four sitting up and blinking, staring as Legend turned to stare at the paintings, very carefully not meeting the smithy’s eyes.

“That one was kinda my favorite. Uncle even got me the books, which were all good an’ great an’ all, except the one version.” Clouds skittered indigo across lavender. “Whoever wrote that book should by locked in the Four Sword Palace, because it was absolutely atrocious! Uncle said that it was just one man’s take on the story, but on that I dare say he was wrong. You don’t go demonizing the other heroes to build up their leader! I swear, that book is the reason I learned to dislike Green, they tried to make him out as some amazing hero when he was just as flawed and messed up as the others! I mean-” The vet didn’t even seem aware of them anymore, scowling down at his hands as he gestured wildly, brows furrowed in a dark scowl. “Look at Vio! He was, like, the best character in the entire thing ever! And the Shadow, and Erune and all the others? They were fun! I liked them! They were great supporters and the-” Legend cut off, staring at the group and blinking as Four flushed wildly and Time chuckled.

“Agreed.” Their leader laughed. “Although I did enjoy reading about Green.”

Legend scowled, pointing accusingly at the man. “You have the cursed Green-centric version, you uncultured swine. Of course you like him, he’s the only one they let you like!” Time huffed, but didn’t contest it, letting their vet rein himself in by running a hand through his faded pink hair.

“Why was it your favorite?” Sky prodded, joining in on keeping Legend talking. Why the lad was sharing suddenly with them, no one could fathom, but he was and it was... strangely refreshing. It was a new side of the hero that they’d never seen before, and it was warm in a way that had the younger ones enraptured and the older ones urging him on and digging into what he gave them with a relish.

Legend shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Maybe it was just the first one I remember, so it stuck with me. I mean, we have a festival at the Palace of the Four Sword every year, and it used to be my favorite event as a kid, so maybe I just associate it with good stuff.”

“Festival?” Twilight repeated, glancing at Four as if to ask if the smithy had heard. He had.

“Yeah. We’d ride over to the base of the Palace’s steps and Uncle would let me help set up a stand. We’d sell cider and apples to the merry-makers and when it got late, we’d go watch the contests and pageant together. Uncle used to encourage me to try and join in on one of them, but I never got the guts up to try.” The vet smirked. “I was kinda a coward as a kid. Didn’t want to do new stuff, I was just happy existing.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Ravio frowned, startling everyone else, including Legend, as the merchant stared at them. “You never talk about yourself like this.”

The smile was back, bitter-sweet and gentle in the way that seemed so strangely natural to the young man. “They say a man lives as long as his memory; Uncle never got the long life he deserved, but the least I can do is pass on something about him.” The vet fingered the tiny tunic he’d left on the arm of the sofa. “In my Hyrule, when someone dies, after we’re done mourning, we spend the day of their death trying to honor and remember them. We tell their story and we pass on their life to those who will come after us, so that they never truly die.” The vet shrugged; face hidden by his hair as he fiddled with a tiny sleeve. “I know it’s hogwash, but it’s nice to think that if something happens during this quest, Uncle won’t be gone forever, even if I am. He’ll still be around, a memory of warmth and joy,” The vet’s dark gaze rose to stare up at them, shy but full of warmth that had some of them blinking in surprise, “even to those who never met him.”

Wind smiled, rocketing over to hug the vet, who started at the sudden display of affection. “I think it’s great that you want to honor your uncle today, Legend, I’m sorry none of us knew it was the anniversary.” And maybe the sailor’s words were the final piece of the puzzle as the reality that today was the day Legend lost his beloved uncle dawned on them. The sailor didn’t seem to care about their revelation though, instead beaming up at Legend with the same warmth he directed at Aryll. “How would you feel about having a cider and story night with us? You know, in his memory?”

The words were the perfect ones, and they earned the sailor a warm grin and a ruffle of ringed fingers through sun-bleached curls. “Sure, Maliit.” And to Wind’s utter delight and surprise the vet smirked. “Wanna help me make the cider?”

Wind was whooping and darting off to the kitchen with a grin a second later, and Legend followed after, but not before he scooped up the tiny blue sleeper.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #lu four #lu wind #lu time #lu warriors #lu wild #lu sky #lu twilight #lu hyrule #idiot writes cottagecore #ketto's cottagecore collection #idiot writes fluff #hugs legenda #link's uncle

[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

#fic: homebound #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun imagine #reiner braun fic #reiner x reader #reiner x you #aot #aot x reader #aot x you #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #snk x reader #snk x you #shingeki no kyojin x reader #my writing

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Lay All your Love on Me (Chapter 8) (Part 2)

Paring: Dark Soft Alpha Lee Bodecker x Female Omega Reader

Summary: After moving to Knockemstiff, Ohio with your troubled parents, you find solace in the local Seven-Eleven. There, you bump into the Alpha sheriff, Lee Bodecker.

And then you keep bumping into him. There’s just something about the chubby Alpha that keeps drawing you in. Now there’s something going on with the new preacher of the church that you attend. Everything’s a mess.

But you’re an unbonded Omega. Life can turn to shit anyway.

Chapter Warnings: This chapter includes more possessive behavior from our Alpha Daddy. Maybe some stalking too? Just a little bit of smut in this one. Some vaginal fingering. As well as some fluff and a marriage proposal from Lee. Not officially, that'll be in a later chapter, but they do discuss marriage. There are death threats and gun violence from our Omega Reader. And we can count the dead body in this chapter, lol. Talk of unplanned pregnancy and rape in this one.

Additional Notes: Part two was a lot longer than I thought it was, and I didn't want to cram it all in one single chapter, because there was just so much going on that I didn't want to confuse anyone. So, that's why I had to split it in half. So this is the second half! Much longer than part one, lol. Please refer to the chapter warnings before proceeding, and minors, DNI.

Word Count: 7,262

The familiar dinging of the Seven-Eleven brought you back.

Back to the first time you had met Lee.

Officially.

A warm feeling rushed through you. Almost like you were giddy. A pep in your step as you showed Sandy to the way of the lovely drinks of heaven, aka slushies.

There was familiar music playing.

You even said hello to the cashier up at the front when you had come in.

The linoleum aisles really brought you back.

You had so many happy memories with Lee here.

It made you feel so warm.

Your Omega was delighted to be back at a place she was familiar with. This place… she knew this place. She spent time with her Alpha here. Memories of you and Lee came back.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

“Okay… so you can choose whatever flavor ya want. They got cherry, Lee really likes that one, blueberry, and grape. I like to get cherry and blueberry. Mix em together. Tastes and looks nice.”

Nods came from Sandy. She watched as you filled up Lee’s cup with the cherry, happily humming a tune under your breath. Then you did yours. Mixing the red and blue together with your straw, before you plopped the correct lids on.

Click. Click.

The sounds of you sticking the straws in made Sandy come back. You were smiling, even as you took a small sip of your mixed slushie.

A slow smile stretched onto her face.

“Okay… I think I get it now. Any flavor, you said?” She questioned you.

“Mhmmm… any flavor.” came your response.

Sandy’s gaze turned to the grape flavor.

A full smile spread onto her face.

“… What do you mean, we’re leavin’ early?”

You were blinking. Your mother just let out a sigh. You looked so confused.

Laying on the big folding chairs in the backyard of Lee’s home, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts underneath your bikini top and bottoms.

Because of the fucking creep in your house. You wanted to avoid him, and be cautious if he was looking at you from the windows.

“… Emma called again. After lunch. Lee gave me the phone, and she explained to me the issue with Lenora. So I told her we’d be going early. Is that okay?”

Was it okay?

Was it okay?

You shifted your body, so you could be laying on your side. Your fingers tapped against the folding chair when you answered your mother.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I’m not sure if I’m okay with leaving Lee and his sister with that freak inside the house, mama.”

Said freak being your technical brother-in-law.

It wasn’t like you were married to Lee or anything. But the thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Made you feel all fuzzy inside. Your head lift.

You had given the idea some thought. Would you entertain the idea as well? Sometimes. Did you want to marry him?

After much deliberation, yes. Yes, you wanted to marry this man.

Oh did you want to marry him.

So badly.

But with the current weirdo in your house, you probably couldn’t even talk to Lee about it. Because every time Carl was in a room with you, you just avoided talking to anyone altogether. Other than the times where you would be in bed with Lee. Then yes. Other than that, no. Not at all.

Up came your mama’s hand towards her forehead.

She had been anticipating this.

Oh yes, she had.

Because you weren’t wrong.

Carl had so many red flags.

So many red flags.

Many, many red flags.

Every time she saw him, your mother’s fight or flight reflex would act up.

It was like looking at her husband almost.

Terrified could be one word to explain how your mother felt around the man. Almost like she felt as if she was walking on eggshells around him.

He just gave her so many bad vibes.

“I know sweetheart, I know. But Lee will be fine. He’s the sheriff. He can handle himself.” Was what she told you. Tried to reassure your nerves.

You, however, were not that reassured so easily.

You still raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

You were worried for your Alpha.

How could you not be? He was your Alpha, for fucks sake. You were bonded to the Sheriff of Knockemstiff. He was your Alpha. Your Lee. Your Daddy.

You had a right to be worried about him.

So you couldn’t help it.

It was perfectly reasonable.

Very reasonable, in fact.

“I dunno mama… I’m still a little bit worried.” You admitted quietly.

And your mother could understand that.

Even with her Beta status, she knew how it would affect a recently bonded Pair.

Because you were recently Mated.

She saw the bite mark on your neck from Lee that proclaimed you as his. The fucking entire county probably knew you were his alone by the bite in your neck. And if anyone were to speak an ill word against you, well, your Daddy would set them straight. Lee Bodecker, Sheriff Lee Bodecker would see to it that no one spoke any ill word against his mate.

Because you were his. His alone. His Omega. His other half. Lee knew for a fact that he would murder for you. Hell, if you even asked him to murder someone, he would still do it. Because that was how much his love ran for you. It was so deep.

And now that you had his bite on your Mating Gland, well, he knew for a damn fact that if someone were to take you, they would have to pry you from his cold, dead hands. Or body. They would have to kill him first to get to you. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.

As you and your mother were in his backyard, laying on the foldable chairs from where he watched from your shared bedroom that used to be his once upon a time, he watched.

Was it out of line, or even creepy to be stalking you?

Probably.

But did he care?

No.

Absolutely not. He didn’t give a single flying fuck anymore.

You were his now. So he had a right to be concerned, where his other half was.

Completely reasonable.

But Lee… Lee didn’t know where this surge of possessiveness had come from.

Ever since you had bitten his Mating Gland and you and your mother had moved in, the Bond complete, Lee felt something shift inside of him. Almost like a change in the air.

For the past couple of nights, weeks even, you had been adjusting. Throwing out your nest over and over again. Lee would hear you in the bedroom when he’d come back from work, having thrown your nest across the room like you were a freaking superhero. Grumbling and hissing underneath your breath about it not being in its proper place.

Throw out. Fix again. Throw out. Fix again.

Rinse and repeat that for the past few nights, and now, now as Lee moved so he could sit comfortably in the nest, watching you get up after saying something to your mother that made her sigh in fondest, padding back into the house, it was perfect.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sounds of your footsteps smacking against the hardwood floors of the hallway caught his attention.

Seeing you at the doorway, mumbling and spewing curses underneath your breath as you slammed the bedroom door shut behind you, shoving your shorts down. Revealing your bikini bottoms. He watched as you slipped on a pair of jeans like it was nothing. Shimmying into them and hissing to yourself, oddly sounding like, “stupid fuckin’ creepy motherfuckin’ Betas,” or something like that. Grabbing a scrunchie from your vanity that you had moved in from your house, tying your hair up. A few strands of hair falling free into your face, which you tucked away behind your ears.

When you finally did look at him, a genuine, real smile stretched over your face. Walking over, allowing the beacon that was your Alpha, your Daddy, his big, strong arms wrapping around you, surrounding you in his scent that reminded you of home.

Nuzzling your face into his shoulder, against his uniform. Against that star embedded into his uniform that made the slightest bit of arousal leak from your pussy.

A soft, gentle sigh was expressed from you.

His voice was throaty when he spoke.

“When you come back from visitin’ Arvin and his folks…”

Up came your head. Looking at him, encouraging him to go on with that wide, innocent look in your eyes that you saved only for him.

A nod.

He continued.

“I want to get married. I want you to wear my ring and my mark. I want you to have my name.”

His hands came to cup your face as he talked. You listened.

Thrill ran down your spine.

“… Want it, Daddy… want Daddy all to myself… want your name, Daddy…” your response was breathy as you looked at him.

Something broke in him.

Shattered.

Cause just then, Lee had grabbed you, spun your around, landing right on top of your vanity. He made sure to not smack you down loud. You had guests in the house, after all.

Well.

Sandy was in the living room with your mother, who had just come in. Carl, thank fuck, was out doing god fucking knows what.

There was a noise of Lee unzipping your jeans. He shoved them down your ankles. In fact, just for good measure, he shoved your bikini panties down too. Shoved three thick fingers into your pussy that was already leaking.

You gasped.

Keened, even.

How could you not?

Although… although you would’ve preferred your Daddy’s tongue, his fingers worked just fine. That feeling of your pussy being plugged always gave you pure bliss.

Pump. Squish. Pump. Squish.

Lee’s breath ghosted against your mating gland, making a shudder run down your spine as he fucked you with his fingers.

All the while, secure in the knowledge that his own little sister and future-mother-in-law were in the next room.

No more fucks had been given.

You were so full.

Oh so full.

You were cumming in no time at all, your walls clenching down harshly onto Lee’s fingers. Shuddering as you came. Feeling like someone had smacked the air out of your lungs.

Deep breaths and pants came from you.

His lips were pressed down onto your mating gland. The tip of his tongue peeking out, before his tongue licked your gland, making your hips stutter. His fingers still buried deep inside of you, all the way up to his knuckles.

He was buried so deep inside of you, but still, that wasn’t enough.

And then his fingers were moving again. Pushing back up inside of you, filling your pussy up.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Keening noises came from you. Wet, squishing noises echoed with every thrust of Lee’s fingers plunging back into your wet cunt. You had to hold onto your vanity, gripping the edge so tight that your knuckles were turning white. You were so wet and turned on, having just come once already.

It wasn’t until you came for a second time, your second orgasm piggybacking from your first one, a soft little whimper filling the bedroom as you clamped down onto his fingers, your breathing turning a little breathless. Softer.

“Daddy…” your voice was softer, bringing the Alpha back.

Squirming came from you when Lee licked your gland again. Your back arched up against his front, your toes curling up, making you rise a few inches. His arms wrapped around you, his scent coiling around you.

“Mean it,” his voice was a little rough, “wanna give you my name, babydoll. Want this whole goddamn fuckin’ county to know who your Alpha is.”

Your pussy throbbed. A low hiss came from Lee at the sensation.

“When my ma and I get back… when we get back… we’ll do it. It’ll be the first thing we do, Daddy.”

“Promise?”

His voice was a low rumble, making a deep shudder spread down your spine.

“Promise.”

When you turned so you could look at him, Lee noticed you trembling.

“I… I mean it, you know.”

You were shaking. Absolutely feeling so many emotions all at once.

“I… I really do wanna marry you. I got your mark already but… I want your name. Your ring. I really do. I already got ya mark but… I really want it. You. All of you. I… I want your pups too, Daddy.”

Words were coming out so quickly you weren’t really quite sure what you were saying either.

But the next words… those next three words… you remembered them. You remembered them well.

“I love you… I love you so much,” you were crying. When had you started crying?

But whatever now.

You were crying and spilling out your feelings like a lovesick teenager.

Your Lee, your Alpha, your Daddy, he wrapped his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to him as his head dipped down, his tongue flattening against your gland, making your ears pop. His scent overflowing your nose as he scented you. Marked you. Your body shuddered against his. Your Omega was overjoyed.

Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha is a good Alpha.

“I love you too, Little Omega.”

A couple of hours later...

Something was deeply wrong once you and your mother had driven up to Coal Creek.

It was like a fog that had seeped through your bones, once you had gotten up to the house.

However, you were broken out of your current train of thought when you saw Arvin running out of the house, running towards you, picking you up, and making you squeal.

Alphas and their strength.

“Everythin’s been so boring without you!” The young Alpha complained once he put you down, “the whole house’s been silent except for Lenora’s puking!”

Puking?

How… peculiar.

Very interesting.

It made you raise an eyebrow, as Arvin helped you and your mother inside as your sleepy brain tried to rack at what Arvin had just said.

But you didn’t dwell on it for far too long, considering once you had finally lodged your suitcase into your room, you had crashed immediately on the spot.

What had made you wake up from your slumber though, was puking.

Someone was puking their guts out in the bathroom.

Groggily, you stirred.

Even made a noise of deep discomfort from being woken up. Your Omega even stirred. She was also not very happy with these changes of events. You heard her in your mind, grumbling unhappily at the Omega who was currently vomiting her guts out.

After you managed to lodge yourself out of bed, you padded down the hallway, down to the bathroom, where the vomiting had been coming from.

What you saw made you nearly shriek.

Lenora cried out in surprise.

But that wasn’t what you were focusing on.

Your eyes were wide.

Your nose smelled something.

Something was very wrong with Lenora. You sniffed at the air.

Strange.

The brunette Omega watched as you walked over to where she was, kneeling over the toilet. She watched you get onto your knees, grabbing some paper to wipe her mouth.

“Need you to stand. Can you stand?” You asked her.

A nod.

Being as careful as possible, you helped Lenora up to her feet, helping her to the sink. Helping to rinse her mouth. Lenora coughed and spluttered the first few times. But eventually, you managed to help her rinse her mouth clean of any bile or puke.

“I’m gonna need ya to brush ya teeth. Can you do that? Brush your teeth?”

Another nod came from her.

Nodding at her, you quietly gave her some space. Some time to brush her teeth, while you scurried out of the bathroom and down the hallway again, into the living room.

After scouring around for everyone or anyone else who could be in the little house with you and Lenora, you found that it was just the two of you.

The Russell’s car wasn’t in the driveway. But your mother’s car was still in the driveway, which you assumed that she had caught a ride with Emma and Arvin. Finding yourself back in the kitchen, you also found that she had left the keys on the dining table.

You heard her spit into the sink. Then you heard the sounds of the sink being turned on and off. Padding footsteps made you aware of the fact that she was coming into the kitchen where you were.

That uneasy feeling filled you up again.

“So… how long have you been pukin’?”

Lenora blinked in surprise.

“U-Um…” she looked almost nervous, her voice stuttering. “A-About… a week now? I dunno why. Maybe I’m comin’ down with somethin’-”

You sniffed the air again. Lenora looked confused.

“What’re you doin’?” she asked, bewildered.

Still, you continued to sniff the air.

“Arvin said you presented. Did you have any toys? Emma provide you with any?” you inquired. Lenora’s cheeks flushed. “I- no. N-No. I never… I never got to.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Whatcha mean, you never got to? You’re supposed to?! You stayed home, right?!”

“N-No.”

You were even more confused.

“Lenora…” you were still very confused, but you didn’t want to frighten her. Scare her. Nothing of the sort. So your voice became gentler. “Lenora… when you present… you’re supposed to stay home. Your presentation… it hurts like a bitch.”

Lenora made a noise.

“Language!”

You waved that away.

“Bah,” you were unbothered, “you’ll cuss eventually. It comes to everyone.” Undeterred, you went on. “Any penny saver… your presentation. It hurts a lot. You’ll go into heat right after. It’s what happened to me.”

“Did it… how much did it hurt?” Lenora asked you tensely. Almost as if she was walking on eggshells. Clapping a hand gently on her shoulder, you steered her to the couch. It was time for a heart-to-heart. Omega to Omega.

“Well… it depends on the person. For me, it hurt like a bitch. It felt like… I felt like I was doing to die. As dramatic as that shit sounds… it really did hurt. My Ma had to send me to the damn ER cause all I would do was climb the walls like a bitch in heat. The whole thing… it felt like I wasn’t really… myself. Like I wasn’t all there, you know? Like… I was there. Subconsciously. But my designation… my Mega… she was in control. It’s kinda a helpless feelin’, bein’ in heat. All you want to do is fuck and breed. It’s what your designation craves. Needs. After though… I was still in pain a little bit. After-effects of heat. And I was really tired. Conked out for the next couple of days to recover. That’s why you gotta get a week off of school. Why weren’t cha in the house recoverin’? Where were you?”

Although now, you were thinking to yourself.

You were Bonded now.

You had a Bondmate. You had an Alpha.

You had never told Lee about your heats. About how much they hurt. For as long as you could remember, they were always painful. Many trips to the ER and hospitals didn’t do you any good. You had to be quarantined from everyone else because your scent was so strong. So thick. You remembered throwing fits, pounding your fists on walls, and screaming because it hurt so much. Your designation would wail and rage within you, wanting her needs to be met. Your Omega, your Omega was truly one of a kind.

In truth, you could admit to yourself why you hadn’t told him just yet.

You were terrified.

Truly utterly terrified.

What if you hurt him?

What if you killed him?

What if he saw what you were capable of during your heat and decided it was too much?

No.

No, no, no.

The mere thought of it was breaking your heart.

Your Alpha, your Daddy, he wouldn’t do that to you.

Would he?

Lenora faltered. Even paused. She looked like she had been slapped.

She had gone silent.

You sniffed at the air again. You could smell her scent of vanilla and cherries, yes, and while your brain processed that this was an Omega in front of you, something just wasn’t feeling right in your gut.

A darker, deeper feeling was twisting your stomach. It made your brain go into darker thoughts.

Lenora looked almost terrified. Her eyes kept darting around. Her scent shifted and started to burn your nose. Your eyes even watered a bit, smelling how her sweet scent slowly turned sour.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me where you were. But I need you to listen to me carefully, okay?”

Your voice was nothing but gentle as you gently looked at the younger Omega. Your voice washed over her, coaxing her. You were sending off soothing pheromones, calming her frantic and shaking form.

Lenora let out a sniff.

“The world for us Omegas… it’s a dark and dangerous place out there. Always gotta be on our guard. Fuckin’ knuckleheaded Alphas who can’t take no for an answer. And for us women… well, we still gotta be on our guard. Men are stupid.”

A choked noise came from Lenora.

It made your Omega straighten up.

Your head cocked to the side.

Suddenly, it clicked.

Shit, shit, shit.

She was pregnant.

Lenora was fucking pregnant with a fucker’s pup.

You couldn’t explain the feeling that had run through you. It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over your head. It gripped you like a vice. Trapping and ensuring you in place. You might’ve even called the feeling pure horror seeping through your bones.

But you wouldn’t call it pure horror that was running through your veins at this moment. It was more than that.

“Lenora… were you visiting your mother?”

She only responded back to you with one word.

“ Yes.”

Now…

You had never been one for faith.

You weren’t a believer.

Not even when you had been younger.

You didn’t know why you didn’t believe. You hadn’t really given it much thought as you had grown older. Going to church seemed like an obligation. Almost as if you had to go. Truth be told, you always fell asleep during the sermons. So there was that.

But as you drove your mother’s car down to the church, your jaw was tight.

Those dark thoughts were back.

It had been a while since you had slipped into that dark headspace. Not only that, but it had been a while since you had actually driven a car. These days, you didn’t really drive, considering you just walked everywhere. A small town did that to you.

Growing up, especially in your dysfunctional household, your parent’s car was almost like an escape for you. Other than your room. Even then though, whenever you’d sit in your parent’s car, hearing the shouting coming from inside the house, the car didn’t quite still feel like your own.

Unlike the car, your room was strictly yours. Yours and yours alone. Your parent’s cars had their names on them. So it didn’t really feel like yours.

However, your new bedroom, after the attack, it didn’t quite feel like yours anymore. To be completely and utterly honest, you had felt like you had been in haze for the past couple of weeks. Like you were just here. Like a star up in the sky, aimlessly floating through space and time, just observing everything around you.

You felt like a ghost.

Although, at this moment, you didn’t feel quite as empty as you had been these past couple of weeks.

Now?

Now you felt ready and secure to kill a man.

An Alpha.

Never had you ever felt so angry to the point of violence. You weren’t a fucking pansy. You weren’t a fucking pacifist. You believed that if violence was truly needed, that you would use it. Only if it was the last possible option. Then yes, you would fuck shit up.

Here and now, however, violence was truly your one and only option.

Emma, Arvin, and your mother had come home to the Russell house a bit ago. You told them that you’d be going into town and that you would be dropping off at the church, to clean up Lenora’s mother’s grave and put new flowers down.

So, with a newly bought bouquet of flowers, a scrubber, and some water in an old plastic bottle, you drove off to the church.

But you had a darker motive in mind.

As you drove up, you made sure to wear your Mate’s leather jacket. Somehow, smelling Lee’s scent, it made you feel safe. That what you were about to do was okay and justified.

It was okay.

It was going to be okay.

Finding a place to park the car, you took the keys out of the ignition. Stuffing the keys into the front pocket of your dress, you got out of the car with all of your things. Your eyes were sharp and focused, blood roaring through your veins. Even your Omega was in full and complete support. The entire duration of the car ride, she strayed, staying at the back of your mind, tapping her paw in turn. She was silent and feeling quite deadly. Ready to rip a man’s throat out. Her anger kept perfectly under control. But she was like a ticking bomb. She just needed one thing to tip her off, and you were pretty sure that if she wanted to take over and attack a man, that you wouldn’t be complaining.

Not really.

The sounds of scrubbing slowly filled your ears as the birds chirped in the trees. You were wearing gloves because you weren’t fucking stupid. Plus, you didn’t really like these gloves anyway. Your mother had bought them for you a few years back, because they were on sale at Sears and because she thought that had looked nice.

They looked fucking hideous.

Absolutely an abomination to gloves. But, they were easy to put on and take off. So that was a plus, you supposed.

Only when you had put down the bouquet of flowers did you hear a noise.

A leaf crunched.

Someone was walking towards you. From where you were, knelt over Helen Laferty’s grave, your head turned.

Immediately, your Omega screeched in alarm.

It was him.

The Alpha that had single-handily ruined Lenora’s life.

Preston Teagardin, with his scent of maple and something musky, made itself known to you.

Not that you wanted to know.

Not really.

“Preacher,” was your cold response as you turned your head back, and adjusted the flowers.

He couldn’t help but blink in surprise.

He had noticed you driving a car into the church. Saw you pull in, dressed in a dress with all of your crinolines underneath your dress, making your skirts puffy and out there. He had seen you get out, with all of your materials. You looked like a woman on a mission. And well, he was definitely curious.

Subconsciously though, his Alpha was telling him something was wrong. But Preston being Preston, ignored it.

Your scent had intrigued him. You smelled wonderful. Like freshly baked chocolate chips.

Although now, especially with that leather jacket draped over your shoulders, clinging to your form, making you look smaller, he caught another whiff in his nose. A deeper scent. It was a masculine scent. Chocolate and bourbon filled his nose too. He almost thought maybe you had a brother who was an Alpha, but then his eyes fell upon the bite on your mating gland that you showed proudly.

You had an Alpha.

The last he had seen of you, you had not had an Alpha.

So that meant you were recently bonded.

Preston didn’t know whether to be shocked or angry that you were bonded.

Finally finished with your work, you turned back to the still shell-shocked preacher and stood up. Brushing off your skirts.

“You know preacher, it’s quite interesting.”

He was confused.

“What’s confusing?”

Your lips stretched into a smile.

“It’s quite confusing to me. I’ve never been one for faith. Never truly got into the church, or believed in Him. I’m not very spiritual, or religious. Never have been. Never truly believed in a higher power. But that’s not all that puzzles me. You wanna know what truly puzzles me though, Preacher?”

When he didn’t answer, you cocked your head to the side appraisingly. You took a step forward. He took a step back.

“It truly puzzles and interests me that you, you’re a Man of God, aren’t you, Preacher? You’ll listen to someone if they need to confess their sins, won’t you? Take it to the grave? That’ll it just be between me and you?” you inquired. You tilted your head back, looking at him. Waiting for an answer.

“I-I…” Preston stammered, making you tilt your head again, almost like a dog looking at its master.

“Because really, I find it very, very, very interesting that you’re not aware that rape is forbidden in the Bible. Don’t you know when the disciples asked Jesus what they should do about their sexual urges, that Jesus told them to gouge out their eyes? And don’t you know that when Omegas present, that they’re supposed to stay home? And don’t you know, that you’re mated and married to an Omega who doesn’t know that her Alpha and husband is a motherfucking rapist?!”

Preston threw his hands up in surrender.

“No one’s going to care. Who do you think the masses are going to believe? A spineless Omega or a Preacher?”

Your eyes flashed dangerously. In less than a second, you pulled out a familiar-looking pistol from underneath your dress and pointed the weapon right in Preston’s face. You knew it was fully loaded. But, just to check, you made sure to reload.

“W-Wait- this is a mistake-” he stammered, stepping away from you. You watched his feet stumble. He tripped on his own feet, falling into the grass. He continued to push back.

“Believe it or not, I am not a huge fan of violence. Neither is my Alpha. He looks out for me. He’s an amazing Bondmate. I don’t think you’d like him either. He’s the one who gave me this before I came here with my Mama. Just in case. This world’s dangerous, you know.”

You had worn your special shoes for the occasion.

You were not wearing your kitten heels.

No.

You were wearing stilettos. Which, now would be considered out of fashion. But you had been gifted a pair from your Daddy. So, therefore, they were special and were to be worn on only special occasions.

And wasn’t this a special occasion?

You considered it one.

You didn’t even bother to reload a second time. You knew you were fully loaded. And besides, you weren’t going to kill him.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

You’d just give him a fate worse than death.

Seeing his terrified form, you aimed your gun down.

Right there, the pistol facing his left hand.

A gunshot rang out.

You heard a scream. Maybe even a yell.

Moving your pistol down lower, your second bullet went right into his left thigh, dangerously close to his dick. You saw the tears. But you didn’t feel remorseful. This Alpha had harmed a member of your Pack. Why should you listen if he begged for mercy? Which he was. You were hearing his pleas. His begs for forgiveness. You knew right then and there, that your Alpha, your Daddy, would have never spared this man’s life.

However, you were not your Daddy.

You weren’t Lee.

So while Preston was still there, laying on the ground, you made sure to get right down on your knees, your left hand grabbing and twisting his left hand, making sure he wouldn’t touch you. Your knees completely spread, so that you would be nice and comfy.

Lee’s pistol cocked right on his temple.

“P-Please- you’re- you’re makin’ some type of mistake-” Preston pleaded, but you narrowed your eyes.

“No,” your tone was completely cold and unmoving, “No, I don’t think I am. I smelled you on her. Are you doubting my nose, Preacher? But don’t worry, I won’t be ending your worthless life today. Be happy that I won’t shoot your goddamn cock off. And besides, you should be grateful I didn’t shoot your right hand. If I truly didn’t give a shit, I would’ve fucking murdered you and left you for the birds. They’ll eat anything. Especially pieces of shit like you. But I don’t think even birds would want to feast on you.”

"I ever see or hear you rape another goddamn Omega, I'll make sure to really kill you. Consider this a goddamn motherfucking warning."

Getting up, and ignoring his whimpers that truly made him sound like a pathetic Omega in heat, you gathered your things.

As you walked past him, back to your mother’s car, you spoke one last time.

“Don't be sad, Preacher. Ya still got a right hand. I know it’s not your dominant hand. But you have a right hand, Preacher. Use it.”

Later on in the evening, back at Knockemstiff with Lee…

Believe it or not, but Lee Bodecker did not enjoy killing.

Even though he knew he was a corrupt Sheriff.

He had heard the rumors. The whispers. Gossip flew around quickly. Especially in a small town like Knockemstiff.

And the saddest part was that they were right.

Someone like Lee, someone who looked like Lee didn’t get to the Sheriff position without a little bit of darkness in him. Lee had long accepted the fact that he had crossed the point of no return. That if there was truly a God up there, with Heaven, that he would never be permitted to enter. He already knew with all the killing, deception- that his soul was black and damned.

There was no going back now.

Lee’s eyes were gazed, focused on the chair on his right. He could smell your lingering scent on it. If he leaned back and closed his eyes and focused hard enough, he could probably hear your laughter. He could probably imagine your smile too. Just the thought of that black box shoved in the top drawer of his dresser made his heart warm. Like there was something worth living for.

The sound of Sandy’s fork clanging on her ceramic plate caught Lee’s attention. He saw his little sister getting up, getting all of their empty plates, and marched right into the kitchen. Lee relaxed in his chair, hearing the sink turn on. Hearing the sounds of Sandy washing the plates.

For a moment, it was quiet. Lee could actually hear himself think. All leaned back, everything in his life nearly in peace and harmony.

“You know, I thought about her for a long time before I actually saw her again.”

Carl jumped.

Actually jumped.

He had jumped in surprise.

“We met at church, you know. Me and my Mega.” Lee was so relaxed, so deep in old memories.

“Took me two weeks to see her again. I felt so sorry for drinkin’ the rest of her slushie. But I just wanted to know why she was just so in love with drinkin’ em. For those two weeks… all I thought about her.”

Which, Lee was technically speaking the truth.

But not the full truth.

He remembered, in those two weeks before he saw you again, all those sleepless nights spent in his bed.

And now, he thought, what if he had been a good man.

A good man didn’t slick up their cock with Vaseline and jerk off to the thought and memory of kissing a defenseless, young Omega who was probably nearly a decade younger than him.

A good man didn’t masturbate himself to the near brink of death in the shower thinking about just how good your pussy would be if he fucked you for the first time.

A good man didn’t masturbate to the thought of his young Omega partner whom he was courting, cumming at the thought of how tight her cunt would be, or if blood would trickle down her legs after taking her virginity.

Lee Bodecker however, was not a good man.

At all.

Remembering his brother-in-law’s words, Carl’s face went pale as a sheet. Lee was so relaxed without a care in the world that he didn’t even have the ball to be smug about it.

The sounds of Sandy's footsteps made both of the men look up.

“I brought the tea.”

Sandy Henderson, with her hair in rollers, wearing her nightgown and her slippers adorning her feet, gave her Big Brother and her husband a look. Her gaze on Carl lingered just a bit longer. As if she was giving him one last look.

There was a clunking noise as Sandy placed the little ceramic teacups with the little covers on top of the table. Handing one to Carl and Lee. Sandy herself sat down at one of the chairs, stirring her cup with a little spoon.

When Carl took the top off of his cup and drank from it, he felt there was something wrong. Something in his gut turned and twisted.

Lee wasn’t surprised to see Carl get up from his chair, and start to cough. Nor was he surprised to see Carl claw at his throat, blue spit dripping down the corners of his mouth. Sandy sat there, staring Carl directly in the eyes as her husband breathed his last breath before he fell to the floor.

The Omega watched her Beta husband die kneeling. Like a sinner confessing their sins.

“Hold on, won’t cha Big Brother? Gotta get something from the bedroom.” Sandy got up, even pushing her chair in like a good little housewife, before clamoring her way down into the hallway, into the guest room.

Sandy came back with a camera.

Carl’s camera.

The one that he used for all of his murder victims. Lee didn’t feel a chilling in his bones. Sandy got real close, good enough to take a full-body shot. But focused on the horrified look in her husband’s eyes. Ones that looked like ones of pleading. As if he was begging for repentance.

Lee heard the camera click. Sandy shook the camera, hearing it splutter for a second before she got the photo out. An almost satisfying, chill smile stretched over her lips.

“He had a lot of photos, Lee. But this one… this one’s my personal favorite.”

Getting up from his chair, Lee looked down to inspect the dead body of his former brother-in-law.

“Ya brought the marriage papers?”

“Yup,” replied Sandy.

“And the photos?” Lee raised an eyebrow.

“Brought all of 'em,” the blonde Omega said in almost a relieved voice.

“Good. You burn them. I’ll take care of his body.”

Sandy could get on board with that.

It was a plan.

With you, late in the early morning…

It seemed, after your detour with the Preacher, that you could not sleep.

You had tossed and turned in bed all night.

Eventually, you had thrown all of your fucks out the window and got up quietly from your bed, opening your door ever so slightly so you could slip through. Padding your way down the hall, to the kitchen. Where the phone was located on the wall.

Picking up the phone, you spun the dial.

Spin. Spin. Spin.

Spin. Spin. Spin.

There was a moment of silence as you heard the phone connect.

There was another moment of silence before you heard the other person on the other line pick up.

“Ello?”

“Daddy.”

Lee breathed out a sigh of relief. Your Daddy sounded sleepy.

“Did I wake ya up, Daddy?” your voice was low. You didn’t want to wake anyone up.

“No, babydoll. I wasn’t sleepin’. Had a busy night, that’s all. Couldn’t sleep, could you baby?” his voice washed over you like thick syrup. You felt as if you were on frigging Cloud Nine. You felt so warm. So safe.

“Nu-uh… couldn’t sleep. Had quite a day today, Daddy.”

“Oh yeah?”

You heard some shuffling on his end of the line. Almost like he was moving around in bed.

“Miss you a lot, Daddy. The nest don’t smell like ya.”

“I miss you too, angel baby. Nest’s not the same without cha in it.”

He heard you intake in a deep breath. And then a deep shuddering noise came from you. Hoisting his legs over so he’d be sitting, he asked, “Ya alright, Mega?”

You faltered for just a split second.

“Daddy, I… I… I need to tell you something.”

That didn’t sound good.

Whenever Lee heard those words, or “we need to talk” in the past, then usually, those weren’t good words. Nothing good ever came out of those words.

“I’m listenin’, babydoll.”

He heard you take in another deep breath before you continued.

“I… my Omega… I feel like… like my heat’s slowly comin’. It ain’t gonna come tomorrow, or any day this week, but… I… I feel like my Omega’s warnin’ me as if she’s tellin’ me the storm’s bout to come my way… and… and I never told you but…” a loose sigh escaped your lips, “my heats are… awful. Every time they happened in the past… I felt like I wanted to die. They were so painful, Daddy. I don’t… I don’t wanna scare you…”

As Lee listened to you over the phone, it made him think of his own Rut.

He thought about how the week before he had seen you in that Seven-Eleven again, how he had gone right into a Rut. You, your scent, your Omega- it had thrown him in a frenzied Rut. He had never remembered any of his Ruts hurting like that before.

But Lee Bodecker wasn’t scared. He never was like that, even when he had been younger. Never ever.

“I ain’t scared of your Omega. I can handle your Omega. I’m your Daddy, ain’t I, babydoll?”

“Y-Yeah…” your voice had turned breathy. “Y-Yeah, Daddy.”

An agreeing noise came from Lee.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Mega?”

“I think…” you chewed on your bottom lip for just a second. “I think… I think you need to come to Coal Creek.”

“What?”

Now he was concerned.

“What for?”

“It’s… it’s about Lenora. Today… earlier, I… I went to the church. I went to the Preacher and I shot him twice. With… with the pistol you gave me before my Ma and I left. He raped her, Lee. She’s pregnant with his pup. And I think… I think if I tell Arvin, that he’s going to kill him. I need your help, Daddy. Please.”

There was a beat of silence from the other line. For a moment, you thought Lee might've hung up on you.

But then, you heard it.

"Don't cha worry babydoll. San and I will come. You just stay there. Behave, ya hear me?"

You swallowed thickly.

"Y-Yeah, Daddy. I'll be on my best behavior."

"That's a good girl. Hang tight, got it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good. Go get some sleep, babydoll. I don't like my baby tired and cranky."

You let out a faint giggle.

"Okay, Daddy. Gonna sleep."

"Mhmmm."

There was another beat of silence.

"I love you."

Maybe it was that you were getting a little sleepy. But you smiled anyway.

"I love you too, Daddy."

And then the line went dead.

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting

Series taglist: @queenslvy

#lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time #sebastian stan fanfiction #abo dynamics

[datawyrms]

Ghostly Mystery Tour

For Phic Fight 2021! dey’s lovely prompt c:

On Ao3

Maddie and Jack had fully prepared for their adventure into the Ghost Zone—or so they thought. The fuel on Specter Speeder had fizzled out about a mile in. They're stuck. At least, until Phantom comes by, offering help.

“I just don’t understand it Maddie, I swear I charged it just this morning!” Jack’s voice managed to be louder than his frantic jabbing at the fuel gauge in the enclosed space, the sickly green glow outside making him look ill instead of agitated.

“I’m sure you did honey, but we need to think of a plan.” Maddie was already trying to think of what they could use. They weren’t too far away from the portal home, with how quickly the Speeder ran out of power. They had plenty of gear and weaponry packed in for their research trip, but the Specter Speeder wasn’t powered with something they could just toss in a gas can and bring along. “Maybe we can hook some of the ropes to the floating land masses and tow it?”

“Oh! Great idea!” Jack brightened, shoving the previous problem aside, hands now occupied with measuring the distance of the nearby rocks. “The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get back to work!”

The problem about how safe it actually was to breathe in the air when in the realm of the dead had been accounted for, but if they had to waste the air tanks just to get back- well they wouldn’t get to have nearly the amount of time to actually explore on foot, let alone gathering samples. They could learn so much about the ectoplasmic terrors from the world they clawed out of, weaknesses they didn’t need to fear on Earth even! So to have their expedition, a trip that had been months in the making derailed like this in mere moments hurt. At least Jack could keep his eyes forward, his positive attitude the only thing keeping her from screaming from the absolute unfairness of it all. “Just run the best options past me before you open the hatch, okay darling?”

“You betcha!”

She was still going to enable the Fenton Child Safety Lock as a precaution, he could get a little over eager when he saw an opportunity. It was just a matter of what tools could be repurposed into a makeshift claw or skewer to actually keep hold of the rocks. What would be the smallest loss?

The sound of something hitting the roof of the speeder halted her thoughts, turning to look out of the windows, drawing up her hood in case they’d be fighting so soon. Even Jack had stopped with his mental calculations, pulling a weapon from under the seat. “Company already? Guess we’ll show em what for, eh honey?”

“Well it is the Ghost Zone, they’re probably braver here. Not that it’ll be any problem.” A little boasting could help keep morale up, even if the situation was less than ideal. Stranded with a ghost already trying to take advantage, typical.

“Well one little zap with this baby and it’ll scoot right on back!”

If the ghost could hear them, maybe it would be frightened off just by their voices. Whatever had hit them hadn’t shown itself near the window, or hit their vehicle again. It didn’t feel right. There might be no evidence for whatever it was lurking around, but sometimes you had to follow your intuition. Jack was inquisitive, but didn’t ask out loud as his wife stood to knock the ceiling herself.

“Sooo are we doing knock knock jokes, or do you need a tow?”

She should have known. Of all the ghosts, it would have to be the one that always managed to get her hackles up, pretending to be helpful so people trusted him. A ghost that even tried to have a human name to fit in, not that she’d ever call this thing ‘Danny’. It was an insult to her baby boy, quite frankly. “What are you up to now?”

“Asking you if you need this thing moved. Duh,” the ghost snorted, the metal clanking as he knocked it again. “Talking at you from the roof feels dumb, you gonna shoot if I go to the front?”

“Depends on what you do, ghost scum!” Jack had looked pensive for a moment, but spoke up quickly on spotting Maddie reaching for a notebook. He just had to give her time to think it over, and he was great at distractions.

“Is scum what you call all people who help you out, or am I just your favourite?” A white haired head appeared at the top of their window, looking down with an amused smirk at the pair. Still playing innocent when they were at a disadvantage.

“You’re a ghost ‘claiming’ to want to help.”

That earned a frown, though the ghost stopped half hiding to float in front of their stranded speeder. “Riiiight. Put it that way, whatever,” he paused, as if studying their faces. His green eyes lingered on the weapon, notably so even as he went back to jabbering. “I’ve got some stuff to do, but I can drag the s-that thing back to the portal. So?”

The hunters shared a glance, unsure how to handle it. Phantom liked to claim he liked humans and protecting them, but he was a ghost. There had to be something he wanted out of them in return. Or might get violent if refused in the wrong way. At least he shouldn’t be able to see the quickly scrawled message to Jack. ‘You play the doubtful one, I’ll pretend to trust him- it’ll underestimate us’

“As if, spooky! Jack Fenton doesn’t need any ghost’s help!”

The ghost bought the open hostility without a second thought, eyes rolling to a sky that wasn’t here. “Really? I heard tow trucks were expensive out of state! Can’t imagine the out of dimension costs.”

It was going to be difficult to stay civil when it would be so much easier to just demand the ghost stop playing around. “We’re listening. So what do you want?”

“Awwww Mads, we don’t need this punk’s help! He doesn’t even have toes!”

The passion Jack had put into his moping managed to baffle the ghost. “Wait, what? Of course I do! No, stop, why does that matter? I know tows and toes are different things! I’m not that bad of a student, sheesh.” He seemed quite thrown, which was good. If the ghost forgot what the plan had been he might just get lost.

“Yeah, and you don’t have either Phantom!” Her husband managed to keep from laughing, but the shake in his shoulders showed it was a near thing.

Phantom glanced down at the black wispy tail that made up his legs, muttering something. “Well okay I don’t right now, but I normally do!”

It was a bit fascinating that Jack had distracted the ghost from his goal so completely. They’d have to think about an invention that could replicate the effect. “Can we focus please? I already said I’d listen to what you wanted.”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” he coughed, a strangely human expression of embarrassment. “I don’t actually need anything? I just have some stuff to do so you’d need to wait a bit.”

Oh right. Sure, the most dangerous ghost in town wanted to help the ghost hunters that wanted to destroy him ‘just because’. Just wait here while he goes to get some friends to attack them! Honestly, did ghosts think they were stupid? “Then why not tell us when you’re done? We’re not moving very quickly.”

“Cus he wants to make us think we’re safe before WHAM! Outnumbered by cowardly ghosts!” Jack expressed her true feelings effortlessly. “Not that it’d help em!”

“No way, you think I’d leave you guys here where anyone can try something?” The ghost still seemed confused, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. “You guys are here to study or whatever anyway, right? So you can look around while I get my errands done. And you know, you don’t get attacked. Most of the little guys leave me alone.”

As if that was a surprise! A ghost of Phantom’s strength could destroy smaller and weaker entities without effort. Perhaps it was a subtle threat slipping through his mask of ‘helpful child’. The idea of going deeper into the Ghost Zone, completely at his mercy was...well absolutely idiotic. Even if they could probably overcome him...being able to still get some studies done would make it not a complete waste of a trip. “So you think it’s likely we’ll be attacked here, so close to the portal?”

“Yeah, by him!” Jack looked tempted to grab his weapon, but refrained. “So what if we say no, huh?”

“Then I guess you can float here? Up to you, I guess.”

It was strange, to see the cocky ghost a bit hesitant. Even if there was an obvious threat he wasn’t mentioning. “Well if you could pull the Speeder, you could take it even if we don’t want you to.”

“I think that’s called kidnapping.” Phantom’s cocky smirk returned “Which is weird, you’re not kids! Adultnapping? Nah, that sounds dumb.”

“Ah cut the innocent act, we’re not falling for it!”

“Hey, I said it’s up to you! Either you agree to come along and I get you back home, or I just leave you guys to do whatever you plan to do. Even if yes, I could totally just drag the ship anyway. I’m not, because I’m trying to help, remember?” A hint of frustration slid past the confidence at ‘remember’, but the ghost folding his arms behind his head as if kicking back to relax did defang most of the threat. “I don’t have all day here.”

“We don’t have all day either Phantom. We have family to get back to, and no idea how long you plan to be ‘on errands’.” Maddie pointed out, still unsure what they should do. Trusting him was stupid, but he had showed his hand. Refusal might be met with the same result anyway, but ‘agreeing’ might trick the ghost into thinking they fell for his ‘trustworthy’ act.

“Like an hour or two? Not too long.”

“Well I’d use my Fenton Stopwatch! So don’t think you can pretend it’s a shorter time than it is, ghost!”

“Yeah yeah, you do that D-Jack,” he stumbled over the ghost hunter’s name, but otherwise didn’t move from relaxing. “It’s not gonna kill you to trust me for a bit.”

Even though it very much could kill them. He really was a smug bit of ectoplasm, thinking he blended in with humans well enough to be considered one. “So only a few hours, and you won’t stop us from researching or taking samples? Or lead us to a trap?”

“If I wanted people to get threatened by ghosts, I could just take some days off. No trouble, cross my heart. I’d swear to die but I got the jump on that bit,” he snorted at his own joke, but otherwise left the family to consider.

It was just safer to say ‘yes’ so the ghost thought they were fools. It had nothing to do with wanting to salvage something out of this disaster of an expedition. “Yes. We’ll accept your help, this time.”

“And you aren’t getting any thanks until we’re home, got it?” Good, ghost hunter, bad ghost hunter. An easy enough trick. Even if she wished Jack was the ‘trusting’ one. Yelling would feel nice.

“Yeeeah, kinda expected that too. Rude.” The ghost only shrugged before flying up and out of sight. She half expected to hear the ghost grab the Speeder, but they only really noticed when they started moving. Moving very, very quickly.

She couldn’t help it, her curiosity tamped down some of the fear she should be feeling, pointing out interesting landmasses as they passed, Jack just as enthusiastic to discuss what caused them, if the ghost built them or they were simply generated when a ghost squirmed into existence. A great castle that seemed familiar, an island with some sort of skull as a decoration and thousands of doors. Most ghosts they only could get sparing glimpses at, even when carrying an entire vehicle the ghost boy was fast. Ridiculously so. She thought it was his small figure that contributed to how quickly the pest could move- how the ghost could just vanish out of range in moments. That most of the power behind his physical attacks came from the speed they were delivered with instead of raw strength. Clearly that was an incorrect hypothesis, moving this quickly and carrying so much extra weight without any real difficulty. They slowed near what seemed to be another castle, though it was much less foreboding looking then the other one.

That sinking dread returned after they landed. She had some landmarks, but this much distance would be a big ask to get back. That, and this castle seemed more...occupied, judging by some humanoid ghosts loitering near the gates. One even waved. To them, or the ghost carrying them?

“Okayyy so. Ground rules? Don’t shoot anyone. None of these guys even go through the portal, they’re not the fighting type. Other than that? Have fun, I guess?” He’d stopped floating, standing on the ground beside their stalled craft. He didn’t look as if preparing to fight, which is what she’d assumed the ghost meant by ‘errands’. So what was he up to?

“We won’t do anything if they don’t.” A lie, honestly, but the ghost nodded.

“Wait, what’s that stuff for?” White gloves pointed at the masks the ghost hunters were pulling from under the seats. “Like you can hear me, there’s air out here.”

“It might be safe for ghosts, but we aren’t ghosts.”

Phantom opened his mouth as if to protest before shutting it with a frown. Strange, it was hard to get him to shut up most of the time.

“Nice try, we’re not gonna choke on ghost air today, Phantom!” Jack chuckled, adjusting his mask before popping open the hatch.

“I wasn’t expecting you to- oh whatever. Just don’t embarrass me,” he sounded like a sulking kid, only glancing at them for a moment before kicking off the ground to fly closer to the castle. Off to fight whoever ‘owned’ this area, perhaps?

“Well look at that! Regular plants!” Jack shook her from her pondering, crouched over what looked like a tended to flower bed near the walls. “Well, ghost plants that aren’t trying to attack. Think we should sketch em for the kids?”

“Well Jazz has been more interested in ghosts lately, I suppose.” It was interesting, but she was more curious about the ghost meandering past the walls. They seemed docile, almost like people just walking and apparently talking with one another. Not attempting to fight for territory or resources. Perhaps they were just repeating the memories of their lives over and over? Yet none of them had reacted badly to Phantom zipping past either. A different breed of ghost, perhaps? Or ghosts often had ‘kings’ that kept the lesser ones from squabbling. The large brute of a ghost that stole the town had claimed to be a king of sorts, and this was another castle...but she didn’t want to test anything by getting their attention. They might only act savagely towards humans, being jealous of those still alive after all.

“Yeah, she has! Danno might not like em, but that goth chick he’s eyeing might like em too!” He was already sketching away, quickly getting the basics. He’d fill in the details from memory back home. “You want to try seeing if those ones talk? Not sure how the ghost kid thinks we could embarrass him, ha!”

“Oh he was probably just trying to insult us. He likes to pretend to be a teenager,” she waved that question away, double checking her weapon was easy to reach in case of an emergency. No reason to make their predicament worse by being unprepared. While still considering to go near those ghosts instead of safely observing from a distance. Jack’s enthusiasm was too infectious, really, but that’s how they made so many discoveries!

The ghosts didn’t object to her moving closer, but she kept off the busier paths to be safe. So many stalls of what seemed to be goods, clothing and paintings, rugs and nick knacks. Well, the ghosts didn’t need anything to live, so it would make sense for them to prioritize other items first, but the art was strange. What did the dead know of creativity? Were these all recreations of something found in life? No, some of the paintings had the green skies of the Ghost Zone, implying at least some ‘new’ thought. They were strange, very unlike the wild animals that often attacked the town, or the showy inhuman mimics that tried to claim world domination. They just looked like greener, more transparent people. Barely any of them even floated much. They’d need new categories, they broke too many rules that stayed true on Earth.

“Oh that’s a lovely shade of blue! I wish I could make something like it.” The voice echoed, but it wasn’t growling or mocking. In fact, the ghost woman who had paused beside the hunter was smiling warmly, despite the dead red eyes. “Are you just visiting for a bit?”

“We’re mostly stuck going wherever the ghost boy is taking us, our ship broke down,” Maddie struggled not to frown, her natural inclination to get away from the still potentially dangerous ghost strong with so many fights. She could tell it the truth, in a sense. Phantom was far more likely to be dangerous then this waif of a woman. How she could move in so many ruffles was baffling.

“Oh dear! Well if he’s any trouble you can let Dorthea know, she’s a caring ruler. A human helped her get her rightful throne back, so I’m sure she’d be happy to help!” The ghost tittered a little, as if expecting that to be obvious.

So the ghost did know she was human? Far more alarming was the idea some other human had been dragged this far from home, possibly trapped. Maybe this would turn into a rescue mission. Unless it was too late for them, a distinct possibility. “Oh really? How did that happen?”

“Oh I don’t really know the details, but it was a human that inspired our good Queen that she didn’t need to fear that tyrant and she could fight back. I wish I’d seen it!”

It was disquieting how human the ghost sounded, a friendly sort of gossip. If only she had a way to record it. “The human got back home after helping, right?”

“Well I assume so, she had no intentions of staying here very long, that’s for sure!” She laughed easily, apparently blind to Maddie’s confusion and apprehension, or just unable to see it past the mask and goggles. “I’m fairly sure Sir Phantom took her back, you could ask him.”

Sir? That town terrorizing scoundrel was respected around here? And had been taking humans out of the ghost zone? Probably because he made whoever it was get here in the first place, just to rescue them. Was that why he was here? To stage some new act with this ghost queen? “Right, I might do that.” Would she? This morning she hadn’t expected to talk to ghosts, let alone multiple.

“Oh! If you see any of those angry blobs you can just run back towards the guards and they’ll deal with it. It’s their job, and they’re quite good at it. I actually considered doing that job for a bit, but I like looking after the plants more. Maybe I’ll switch in a decade or two!” The ghost kept talking, apparently taking Maddie’s lack of further questions as permission to keep chattering.

“Can’t you deal with them yourself?” Attacking ghost blobs was something she knew about, and if this ghost was strong enough to mimic humans, shouldn’t it be able to deal with the much less sophisticated tactics of blobs?

“Me? Oh no, I’m not not trained. Do you still have lions on the other side? It would be like trying to fight one of those with a stick!” She laughed, but not unkindly.

“You’re both ghosts though, aren’t you?” Perhaps they differentiated themselves by name in the Ghost Zone? It would lend some evidence to the ‘different breeds’ of ghost hypothesis she was rapidly stringing together.

She tapped at her chin for a moment at the question. “I suppose we are, but they’re more like animals. They might have always been animals, or never alive at all! It’s perfectly safe here though, they usually fight more among themselves.”

Well that was fascinating. Some ghosts didn’t instinctively know how to fight and had to be taught? Yet didn’t consider themselves completely separated from the more animalistic ectoplasmic terrors. Perhaps the more ‘domestic’ setting here made the ghosts less feral and more reliant on their previous memories. Well, the ghost could be lying, but she couldn’t see the benefit she’d gain from deception here. “So you’re kind of stuck here then? We saw a lot of those outside of this place.”

“No no, we’ve got safer ways to travel than just flying around! Not all of us are that brave, dear. Though I don’t think I’d want to stay somewhere else very long anyway. Here it’s safe, all my friends are here and we have one of the largest markets in the whole Ghost Zone. Other ghosts come to us!” There was a hint of pride as she spoke about her ‘home’, gesturing over to some of the stalls Maddie hadn't had time to look at before getting interrupted. “I was really hoping to get something from the seven armed bloke over there, but he’s not very interested in my clothing. Maybe next time.”

Said ‘bloke’ had far too many eyes to go with the arms, and a collection of honestly terrifying little statues with strange designs that made her head hurt if she looked at it too long. A clear outsider to the more human ones, but not causing a stir. So much for constantly fighting out groups, but they barely had anything in common either! Not to mention engaging in some kind of simplistic trading. “So this happens often?”

“Pretty much. It’s fun to make new things, but you get bored of just your own stuff after a few centuries you know? So we swap and find new things.”

Well of course, it’s not like the ghosts needed to trade for something vital to existence. Swapping ‘things’ made more sense in that context. So why weren’t any trying to trade strength or favours? Or simply taking what they wanted? Was it related to having a queen? She had so many questions that knowing what ones needed to be asked was next to impossible. “I suppose you would. How can you tell if a ghost that comes is peaceful?”

“Asking!” She laughed again, apparently finding the question funny. So they didn’t deal with constant attacks from spectres like Phantom trying to ‘take over?’ Why?

“Oh geeze, I’m so sorry if she said anything about trying to-” Phantom’s voice interrupted her thoughts, the ghost suddenly floating beside the other ghost and sputtering.

“Sorry? She’s been perfectly lovely! Haven’t you- oh I’m so rude, I didn’t even get your name!” the ghost tisked at herself, once again strangely apologetic.

“Wait, she has?” His doubtful tone made the ghost hunter scowl. As if he had any room to judge them.

“We’re scientists, not uncontrollable monsters.” Like him. She was fairly sure he caught the implication when the boy muttered something she couldn’t hear.

“Cool. Anyway, got another stop, then I’ll get you two back home.” He still hovered, glancing between the two of them a few times. “Oh. Maddie, that’s her name.”

“Lovely speaking with you Maddie! Had a good trip back, I’m Guenivier if you’re ever in the area again,” she smiled and gave another wave before somehow drifting back into the crowd without displacing even a bit of that dress.

“Who said you can give out my name?” Maddie hissed, once certain the other ghost was out of earshot.

He leaned back on teenager mannerisms, scoffing and heading away. “Because she wanted to know and thinks you aren’t a total ghost hater? It’s not gonna hurt anything.”

“How can I know you don’t have a way to locate people by name?”

He was rolling his eyes again as if she was being ridiculous. “You live in a house with a giant glowing sign. Not exactly subtle.”

“That isn’t in the ghost zone.”

“It’s attached to the ghost zone, it totally counts.”

It really was like arguing with a teenager when he bantered on like this. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Yes ma’am. Sheesh.” He hopped on top of the speeder, kicking his heels against the side. “Hey Jack, you coming?”

“Coming!” he bellowed back, jogging over from the patch of plants she’d left him at. However, he wasn’t just carrying his notebook, but a folded glowing bit of cloth. Some sort of tapestry judging by all the stitching? “Just wanted to get a few more lines done-” he broke off after spotting his wife, apparently reminded that he shouldn’t be so chummy with the ghost. “I mean I leave when I want to, you can’t boss Fentons around!”

“Oh come onnn, can you pretend you don’t hate me for like five minutes? I’m not even doing anything!” Phantom complained, flopping backwards onto the Speeder. “You were totally having a good time”.

“How did you get that, dear?” Maddie chose to ignore their sulking captor and instead look at what Jack managed to gather besides sketches.

“Oh, one of the ghosties liked my pictures and asked to trade for one! So I gave em a page for this! We can study how they made it back home, neat huh?”

Apparently he hadn’t been too worried about it being a trap, but a picture he’d just sketched wasn’t a big ask for something that could teach them a lot about the ghosts in here, so it was a good trade nonetheless. “You did great sweetie. Just make sure to store it safely, just in case.”

“Already on it sweet cheeks!” He was indeed, already pulling out a large sample bag to store their find before opening the hatch again.

“Ew. I changed my mind, go back to threatening me. Sappy is worse.”

Well, at least the ghost regretted his actions a bit. He’d be more sorry if he tried anything, but this did just seem to be something to sooth that hero complex it had. So far, anyway. She was tempted to ask the ghost what it had been up to at the castle, but it didn’t really matter. He’d just lie anyway, he clearly wasn’t the same sort of ghost as the weaker ones back there.

“Ha, he crumples in the face of our love Madds!” Jack laughed, hugging his wife and they got comfortable back in the speeder. “You think he’d take us back home if I said how much I love ya?”

“I so don’t need to hear this.” He was muffled, apparently still flopped on the speeder. He didn’t add anything before the Speeder lifted from the ground and resumed speeding through the strange green expanse.

“Clearly he buys his own teenager delusion.” Maddie mused, content to rest against Jack and look through his sketches. “Did they seem strangely lifelike to you too?”

“Oh sure! They just talked and didn’t even seem interested in going to the human world! Even though one was very jealous of how bright my jumpsuit is.” He leaned a bit to flick a few pages forward. “I sketched a couple and got their names, so we can see if we can look em up. See if they’re similar to their old selves according to history and all.”

“That’s a good idea. I didn’t get a complete name, but apparently they have jobs? Not like the wilder ghosts, and they do have a queen…” she paused, remembering the ‘human’ Phantom apparently ‘helped home. “Hey! You did help someone home from the ghost zone before, did you?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, she’s back safe. Wasn’t even a whole day.” He sounded distracted, or at least surprised by the question.

It could be a valuable lead. That, and the human might need help after such an experience. Who knew how ecto contaminated they might be! “Who was it?”

“How should I know? Just because I’m in town a lot doesn’t mean I know everyone’s name.”

She frowned, glancing at Jack who only shrugged. So he hadn’t heard that story, only her. “You know ours.”

“Because you shout them at me and shoot at me a lot? Pretty easy to remember!”

“Ghost kid’s got a point.” Jack admitted, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll just find who it is ourselves! Just an extra project.”

“What, and just make their life weird again by bringing up ghost stuff? Leave em alone.”

Well now they absolutely had to look into it, if Phantom wasn’t keen on the idea. Better to let him think they agreed though. “True, it could just lead you back to them.”

“Hey! This is all you, not me!”

Jack chuckled. “You’re really good at riling him up. Almost sounds like our Danny like that, getting all touchy about fun family activities!”

“Well he probably copies behaviour from local teenagers,” she didn't like that comparison though. Their children were nothing like life destroying ghosts. It was better to turn her attention to the passing green and how the amount of doors seemed to dwindle as masses of ice started to become the most prominent detail. That made more sense, actually. Phantom had started using ice in addition to ectoblasts, if he came from somewhere with this sort of climate it seemed less out of place with his other abilities. Even if he was otherwise ill suited to snow and ice with how he insisted on looking like a kid.

The next stop felt more like a mistake, with only hills of untouched white powder and ice to see, but the crunch of snow below confirmed they were no longer moving. Good thing they came prepared with heated coats!

“Not a whole lot around here! If it wasn’t for all the green we could pretend we were in Alaska.” Jack chattered as he shrugged a coat on, still apparently too excited to look around to keep his suspicion up. “They don’t all like castles, or maybe it’s a hidden one!”

He better not be thinking Santa had an ice castle. That was probably what he was thinking of, but she didn’t really want to bring up their annual argument at the moment. He could be wrong today, there were more important things to do. “You do realize it’s a frozen wasteland you’ve stranded us on?”

“It’s not that cold.” Phantom objected, circling the Speeder idly.

“Easy for a ghost to say, you’re always cold ghost kid!”

He stopped at that, glancing back at Jack. “It's not that bad, is it?”

“Only because we brought warm clothing. Jumpsuits aren’t enough for the living.” Maddie huffed, looking at the snowfields to find anything worth looking at. The structures of ice were somewhat interesting, but not inherently ghostly.

“Well you guys can stay here, I guess.” The ghost bit at his lip, playing up the concern now that they pointed out a frozen wasteland was cold. Honestly, how did anyone fall for Phantom’s act if he made mistakes like this? “I don’t think Frostbite’s people come out this far…”

“Oh, are they dangerous? We can take any of your little ghostly pals!”

Phantom looked as if Jack suggested exploding a building. “No! Don’t fight any of them! They just look scary, okay? Just ignore them, if any show up.” He didn’t wait for a response before flying off this time, apparently in much more of a hurry this time.

“Sounds like he’s worried about what we can do to his little pals, huh?” Jack elbowed his wife with a grin. “Well, maybe we can find something weird about the ice here!”

It was better to try getting some of the ghost ice instead of doing nothing, though she doubted it would be very different from regular ice, beyond the ectocontamination. Now what would a ghost think is ‘scary looking’? He hadn’t given such a warning when close to all of the other ghosts, after all. It was a bit of a mystery, and none of the ice here had any identifying marks or hints of another odd little ghost ‘civilization’. ‘Frostbite’ wasn’t much of a name either, perhaps they were more like the wild sort that came to Amity?

“Oh hoh! Look at this!” Jack yelled out, pointing to something below him as he waved her over.

A large, clawed footprint left in the snow, and fairly deep. So something monstrous after all, as expected. “Maybe we can get a cast of it?” They had supplies for it, but she wasn’t certain if it would work in the ice correctly. The tracks didn’t go for long, but following them wasn’t a very tantalizing idea. Better to keep a distance and be well armed if they wanted to tangle with whatever left this. It wasn’t as distracting as the previous stop, but the sound of crunches increasing in volume had the couple back on edge and wary.

“Seriously, we should just go-”

It sounded like the ghost boy was near wherever the crunches were coming from, which didn’t improve her mood one iota.

“Nonsense! I have been asking to meet them for how long?” A deep, growling and carrying voice came in response as Maddie readied a weapon.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. You don’t want to, trust me.”

“Seems he doesn’t have a very high opinion of ghost hunters, eh Mads?” Jack was less noticeably readied, still half crouched near the footprint, but his hand hovered where a weapon was concealed. She focused on her breathing as the sound grew louder, eyes narrowed as she spotted a large figure cresting the nearby hill. With the little white haired ghost boy completely at ease near it. Nothing like his regular behaviour, let alone the talking. Why would this huge beast know of them?

“What did I say about not shooting people?” Phantom actually seemed to blush on seeing her holding the weapon, smacking his face. “Okay, you saw them, bye now!”

The large furred creature ignored how the smaller ghost pushed at their shoulder, instead waving with a horrific ice claw, bones gleaming from within as it seemed to rip at the very air. “Well our first meeting was hardly perfect either, I can manage.”

“Yeah but I can’t just pull a ‘won’t shoot a big yeti’ icicle out of their jumpsuits!”

For a human loving ghost, Phantom was certainly very concerned about this giant horned monster being harmed by ‘mere humans’. More proof of his act, at least. Though the large creature did have a cloak of some sort and clothing. He spoke well, if you ignored the fanged mouth and growls. A strange contradiction of appearance and intent. That wasn’t a normal thing for ghosts either, you could gather a decent amount about one by how they looked. So why was this one chatting and apparently interested in seeing two humans? “So, you’re the ‘Frostbite’ he mentioned?” She hazarded a guess, but wasn’t going to put the gun away.

It showed its fangs, maw wide and unnerving. “Yes, I am! It is an honour to meet you” The furry head bowed slightly, as if trying a sort of nod of respect. “Your work assisted the Great One in vanquishing Pariah Dark, we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Please don’t call me that. Especially in front of them!” the green eyed ghost practically squawked, somehow flushing even harder when he didn’t even have blood.

Maddie’s mind almost flipped over from the sheer confusion of what this terrifying ghost said. They had ‘helped’ vanquish something? More likely, Phantom had stolen something. So why did this ghost still give them credit? That wasn’t even starting to touch why the ghost boy would be considered great in any aspect. “Assisted him? Do you mean with that ghost who took our town into the Ghost Zone?” She wasn’t sure if that was what the ‘king’ ghost was called, but it made more sense than anything else she could think of.

“Indeed. The King of All Ghosts would have sent the infinite realms into chaos and conflict. Of course we are grateful for your help in preventing that.”

“That’s when you stole the Ecto Skeleton!” Jack spoke up, no longer tense. “You never brought it back.”

“That’s not my fault, that thing almost wasted me! It was gone once I woke up!” The boy objected, but seemed to settle down when the larger ghost ruffled his hair. “I wanted to bring it back.”

“I’m sure now they understand how vitally important that technology was, for your world and ours.” The ghost’s yellow eyes watched them expectantly, the unnerving void of pointed daggers thankfully closed now.

“Well it did get Amity back where it belonged.” Losing the Ecto Skeleton had been a blow, but an acceptable one to get back to normal. The fact that more ghosts seemed to know and care about their part of it was somewhat unnerving. She very much doubted Phantom just ‘lost’ it either. Jack suffered from the demands of the suit, but the ghost was just ectoplasm and electricity. Quite unlikely he could be drained that much, it wasn’t meant for ghosts to use in the first place.

“Your world? Doesn’t the kid live here?” Jack asked, making his wife blink. She hadn’t noticed that odd phrasing.

“No, no. The Great One prefers the human world and his friends. How are they doing?”

He froze up, eyes flicking to the hunters and back to the yeti. “Fine. They’re great.” He darted closer to the two hunters, gesturing at them to move. “Okay let’s go.”

How much interacting was this ghost doing with humans to have ‘friends’ it told other ghosts about? They could be in danger, or used as targets! “No no, we’d love to hear about your friends.”

“Nope, you don’t, gotta get home right? Big hurry, don’t trust me, remember?” He was practically pleading with them.

Frostbite’s ears twitched as he tilted his head. “Don’t trust you? Surely they’re the ones who taught your friends how to drive that craft of yours?”

Phantom had the gall to turn invisible.

“We were unaware anyone other than us was using it, actually.” Maddie didn’t bother to keep the frost from her voice.

“Ah, well at least the good news is I already knew how to make a replacement battery for it when the Great One came asking for help.” His tail twitched, as one of the great claws scratched at his furry chest. “It should be good as new once you can install it.”

So not only was this ghost stealing technology and bringing humans to the ghost zone, it was teaching other ghosts how it worked! The second that ghost was in their grasp, he’d have some serious answering to do. “Do all of you call him that?” It was the only question she could ask without wishing to spit acid, quite frankly.

“All of the Far Frozen recognize him as such, but not all ghosts are the same. He should be proud of the title, a savour of two worlds.”

“Frostbite I’m begging you, stop! It’s embarrassing!” The ghost dropped his invisibility, still looking more like a flustered kid instead of the heroics seeking fame junkie he was.

“Well if it helps your relationship with these ghost hunters, I think it is important that they know.”

“Yeah no. Let’s not.”

It felt like there was something the two ghosts weren’t saying. That, and the fact Phantom didn’t seem to like being hailed as a hero here in the Ghost Zone didn’t make sense. Why all the grandstanding in Amity then?

“Well we’ll be glad for the lift home. You shouldn’t steal from us, kid.” Jack tried a stern approach, and the ghost actually flinched from the rebuke.

“You’re not the only ones who want to map this place out, that’s all,” he didn’t really seem to be answering them, more talking to himself before launching himself at the Speeder again. “You can shoot at me about it back home or whatever.”

“Travel safely! Do try and explore your other half more often, Great one. You’re always welcome here.” His great furry head watched them all easily, seeking out the ghost hunters eyes as well. "I understand you are less interested, but you are welcome to see the realities of my home as well. It may surprise you, in a good way."

She desperately wanted to ask what that monster of a ghost meant by that, but managed to hold her tongue. If all the ghosts here saw Phantom as some sort of godlike hero, chewing him out here wasn’t safe. Jack’s small nod of agreement and warm hug helped, but it couldn’t stop her mind churning. They’d seen and hurt so much, and none of it made any sense! This Frostbite just threw in several more wrenches in the works with only a few sentences, but with how agitated Phantom was getting now wasn’t the time to push their luck. Perhaps when the shoe was on the other foot, and the boy needed their assistance.

He didn’t speak up or grumble this time as they left the frozen land behind. Though that might be them as well,m sitting close together and considering the notes and samples they had taken. That and the huge list of questions Jack had scrawled down in the margins of a sketch of Frostbite. How could a ghost like Phantom truly manage to stay in the human world most of the time? Did it have to do with this ‘other half’ that ghost had mentioned? Would knowing what it was reveal a weakness in the ghost? So many questions, but no answers. Why had Phantom even let them speak to any ghosts, considering how badly he’d reacted to some of the information given? He couldn’t genuinely be wanting to help.

The inviting glow of the portal appeared sooner than either of them could expect, the ghost dropping the ship on the lab floor with a loud clunk.

“See? Home. No ‘evil plan’” he floated into view, and she was fairly sure he only did so to make those air quotes with his hands.

“So you say, ghost kid. Don’t think we won’t be checking for tricks!”

“Yeah sure,” he shrugged, grinning after a moment. “Oh hey, by the way, you do know what the Speeder is powered with, right?”

Maddie didn’t actually know how to take that question. “Of course we do, we built it!”

“Uh huh.” His grin widened as he kicked back, legs vanishing into that strange tail. “All you had to do was take the cover off. It’s the Ghost Zone! There’s ectoplasm everywhere! I just had Frostbite make a backup.”

...Had they really- They had. They’d been dragged around by a ghost for no reason at all! “Why you little-”

He kept laughing before turning and getting out of the way. “Thanks for flying with Phantom Zone Tours! I’m out.” A jaunty wave and he was gone, leaving two baffled ghost hunters behind.

“I think some fudge is in order after that!”

She couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe fudge could make sense of that whole affair. All that for a prank? It didn’t add up. They’d have a lot of work to do.

#Danny Phantom #phic fight 2021 #Maddie Fenton #jack fenton #hey look a fun one! #tho they are kinda mean about poor danny-boy #but hey minimal angst! woo! #Team Ghost