#sorry to beat a dead horse but i saw this again and i had to express my feelings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genocidehim · 11 months

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Can you make a part 2 for nacho falling in love with Lalo’s wife!!!

PS: I loved the first one 💙💙

TROPHY WIFE

part. 1 here

notes: Keep in mind that this part is directly related to bcs and the episode of Something Unforgivable, the facts will try to be as canon as possible, but I will change a lot of things. words: 2143

"Hay un portón en la parte de atrás del lugar de Salamanca. A las tres de la mañana esta noche quítale el candado. Ábrelo, lárgate de ahí"

Nacho spent the whole day pondering the instructions given in that unknown call. He knew they were direct orders from Fring, and he sensed that he would do something when Lalo was more vulnerable, and his house was the perfect place. Nacho seemed to agree with that plan and even looked forward to the night, but there was a major inconvenience: You were in the house along with a bunch of other innocent people.

No matter what Nacho said or asked, he knew he wouldn't have a chance to get you out of that situation because, unfortunately, you were also a Salamanca and a potential victim of Fring's plans.

Even though you and Nacho had only had some silly flirting and slightly heated words, neither of you believed the other was interested, so there was only a sort of odd friendship between you. But you had already wormed your way into Nacho's heart, and he was enchanted by you.

He was restless throughout the day as he thought and thought about that situation. He couldn't find a fair solution that would only involve Lalo's death and not yours. He trembled with fear at the mere thought of you getting hurt because of Fring's plans, and the fear of you dying was much stronger than Nacho's desire to see Lalo dead.

Nacho needed to find a quick solution, and as the sky grew darker, he felt panic and dread flood his body.

"What ghost did you see? You're all shaky." you said as you approached Nacho and gave him a big smile.

Nacho had been lost in his own world since morning and hadn't noticed that you had just returned from the horse stable. You were slightly sweaty from taking care of the horses all morning.

"I think I'm just a little hot. It's quite sunny today" Nacho managed to look good, but he had that worried face as always.

"In Albuquerque it's not sunny or what? Man... you're a softie, you need to get some good sun in Mexico".

Nacho felt his heart beat faster as he saw how your relationship had become so strong and trusting. He adored how you treated him so naturally and enjoyed your sincere words. He couldn't imagine not hearing from you again; he didn't want to.

"I'll have time to get used to it."

Before you could respond with a tease, Lalo's voice in the distance caught both of your attention. "¡Ignacio, ven y ayúdame a reparar una cosa por acá!"

"I'm sorry, Lalo needs me..."

"It's okay, go," you smiled in response, but before he left, you took his arm and held him back for a second. "Lalo will have dinner at the house tonight... You should come down and eat with us. I'd like to have you at dinner."

The way you looked at him made Nacho's heart melt, and guilt struck harder in his chest.

"I will. Save a seat for me next to you."

Nacho bid you goodbye for the moment and went to help Lalo with cleaning the engine of his Montecarlo while trying to keep his mind clear and come up with an effective solution for what would happen that night.

It was already quite late, almost two-thirty in the morning, when Nacho remained awake and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He was desperate and paced back and forth in the kitchen, debating whether he should continue with the plan or sabotage everything. But it was impossible for him to think clearly when he knew that if he didn't act quickly, he would die that night too.

Nacho decided to stick to the plan and open the gate of the house. He managed to cut a tin can and took small pieces to pick the lock. After checking the time on the kitchen clock, Nacho headed to the backyard, and before he could react, he found himself face to face with Lalo in front of the bonfire, drinking a beer. Ignacio sweated and hid the pieces of tin in his pockets when he saw Lalo invite him to sit beside him.

"Take a seat."

Nacho sat on the wooden chair next to the bonfire, feeling his heart pound forcefully in his chest. Lalo grabbed a beer and offered it to him, looking somewhat calmer than usual.

"Are you still hungry?" Lalo spoke with a playful tone in his voice.

"No, it was a good dinner" Ignacio replied as he took a sip of the beer and tried to loosen the knot in his throat.

Lalo laughed in response and kept watching Nacho with some joy in his eyes. He was really starting to like him.

"She really knows how to keep a man at the table, huh?" Lalo mentioned you, and something inside Nacho made him feel awful knowing that you were asleep upstairs. "I never understood why she enjoys having dinner together so much, but if it makes her happy, well…"

Nacho couldn't understand how Lalo was incapable of understanding you. Was his ego so big that it prevented him from seeing beyond his own desires? It was obvious that you enjoyed having dinner with everyone for the feeling of being in someone's company.

"She must be a family-oriented woman…"

"She was like that when I first met her, but I think she no longer sees her family... They hate her for marrying a narco. Ugh, son puras pendejadas de la plebe" Lalo revealed as he scratched his mustache with his finger, apparently feeling confident enough to talk to Nacho about you.

Lalo wasn't even aware that you had no contact with your family because of him, and he had no interest in acknowledging that simple fact. He probably imagined that you were fine with the whole situation.

"She's somewhat lonely" Lalo continued. "I'm not complaining. She's quite intelligent and a good wife. I couldn't ask for a better woman than her, but she's somewhat... complicated, you know?"

Nacho tried to hide his expression of disgust and shook his head.

"You know, she demands a lot of attention... Sometimes she seems like a child" Lalo shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "She should have friends and go out or something, but she's at home all day waiting for me to return."

"I imagine it must be difficult for her to have friends while being your wife... right?"

Lalo observed Nacho for a moment and paused to silently contemplate what he had said.

"It could be... Maybe she's just as distrustful as I am and finds it hard to trust other people" Lalo smiled as he reached the conclusion that you were as reserved as he was. It only made him feel more secure to have you by his side. "But it seems like she really likes you."

Those words made Nacho's skin crawl. Was Lalo aware of the strange friendship you two had?

"I'm glad she gets along with you. Maybe someday you can introduce her to those pretty girlfriends you have, and she can make some real friends."

Lalo laughed at his own comment, and Nacho tried to play along while realizing that Lalo didn't suspect or feel threatened by his presence with you. Lalo's ego was probably so big that he couldn't feel jealous of Nacho. Or perhaps he trusted you too much and your loyalty to him.

Suddenly, Lalo fell silent and sat up straight in his chair, appearing attentive and alert. Nacho swallowed hard and quickly glanced at his phone to check the time: 3:37. He had missed the deadline to open the gate.

"Did you hear that noise?"

Nacho remained silent and looked towards the gate he was supposed to open thirty minutes ago. Lalo noticed that Nacho also sensed something was wrong and decided to focus all his attention on that spot.

Nacho felt out of himself. He had lost the opportunity to escape; he should have left before Lalo had kept him entertained. But he couldn't blame him. When the memory of the dinner with you invaded his mind, he became lost and forgot about everything else.

"Someone is stepping on the leaves outside…" Nacho whispered, pretending surprise.

"Chingad-… Go call Miguel and tell him to get the boys ready."

Nacho nodded and stood up from the chair. But before he could take another step, Lalo mentioned you, "Go to her and make sure nothing happens to her. Grab the revolver on the nightstand next to my bed and protect her."

The orders were clear, and Nacho felt a great relief knowing that he could ensure nothing happened to you. He quickly ran towards the house and informed Lalo's guards to be on alert for his instructions. Nacho began to climb the stairs of the house towards the master bedroom…

Ignacio hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, unsure if he should enter or not. He didn't know how you would react to being approached by him in the middle of the night. But when gunshots started ringing outside the house, he hurriedly pushed the door open and closed it behind him. He went straight to the nightstand next to your bed and searched for Lalo's revolver.

"Ignacio…?" Your sleepy voice snapped him out of his trance and made him look directly at you.

Nacho almost let out a sigh as he saw you in soft, almost transparent pajamas. Although he wished he could admire you in detail, he quickly reloaded the revolver.

"You have to stand up…. They are attacking the hacienda".

Your look of terror became more pronounced as you heard the sound of bullets and the noise of the garden's metal gates opening.

"Where's Eduardo?!"

"He's downstairs. He asked me to keep you here..." Nacho approached the bed and helped you get up. "I need you to stay behind me at all times... Is there a bathroom here?"

You nodded, trembling, and pointed shakily to the bathroom next to the bed.

"Good. Listen... Go into the bathroom and stay there while I guard the entrance, alright?"

"W-What?! I don't want to be alone, please... Come with me."

Fear flooded your body with each noise from outside. The sound of gunfire and Lalo's men shouting made your body tremble with fear. Nacho noticed this and felt his heart constrict. It was the first time he had seen you in such a vulnerable state, and a sense of protectiveness grew within him.

"Alright... Let's go to the bathroom, but listen to me: if they manage to enter, I will have to go out, but you have to hide. I will try to buy you some time to escape and find a hiding place."

"But Ignaci-"

"Only if they manage to enter... Come, follow me."

Nacho offered you his hand, and you held it tightly as he guided you to the bathroom in the room. Once inside, he locked the door and stood in the middle of the room, still holding your hand tightly. With each sound of gunfire, the tension between both of you grew, and terror filled the dark bathroom. You couldn't see much, and the only sense of security you had was the warmth provided by his strong hand.

"Nacho…" your whispering voice called to him, and he turned to see your frightened face in the darkness, trying to make out your features.

"Stay calm… Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."

"And Lalo?"

"Lalo will be fine… You are the priority now."

Those words struck deep within you. The way Nacho was trying to make you feel safe and prioritizing your well-being, it all made you feel… important.

You were his priority. He was looking out for your safety and making sure you felt good by his side. The sensation of his hand holding you tightly, how his entire demeanor was focused on keeping you protected… And even though the situation was terrifying, you felt an incredible sense of happiness.

As the sound of bullets intensified, you moved closer to Nacho and wrapped your arms around his torso, seeking some security in his touch. Nacho felt his heart skip a beat as you got so close, but he remained steadfast for you. He enveloped you with one arm while holding the revolver with his other hand.

When the noise and gunpowder ceased, a sense of calm seemed to settle over the hacienda, and all you could hear was the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

Both of you heard a knock on the bathroom door, and Lalo's voice seeped through. Ignacio quickly opened the door, revealing a tired Lalo with dirt on his clothes, completely sweaty.

Nacho let go of you, and he watched as you ran towards your husband, embracing him tightly while Lalo reciprocated and reassured you.

He felt empty, but he couldn't say anything about it.

#better call saul x reader #breaking bad x reader #bcs x reader #nacho varga #nacho varga x reader #nacho varga fluff #nacho bcs #ignacio varga #one short #request #lalo salamanca

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wolfgiselle · 16 days

Text

Cage Wi-fi

"Can I ask, once again, how it's even possible we get wi-fi down here?"

Adam knew he was beating a dead horse, at this point, by getting worked up over this, but he was only human. Even in these trying times of Angels and Demons—of cages in Hell that were supposed to hold the literal Devil but, for some reason, also currently held him and the Archangel Michael—he needed things to make sense. Nothing had been going as it should lately. Not for a long time. Yet, here he was, trying to find logic where it seemed none existed.

"I assume the computer and its 'wi-fi' are here for entertainment purposes. There's not much else to do down here," Michael murmured. His face was practically hidden behind the screen. It had been for the last few days. At least, Adam thought it was days (Hell time was different, Cage time worse). Adam hoped Michael wasn't becoming addicted—that was all they needed—but there wasn't anything he could do to get it away from him.

Lucifer, at least, seemed to find Michael's newfound fascination and obsession amusing. "The demons snuck one down. I enjoyed the machine last I used it, so I, uh…let's go with 'asked' them to bring one down."

Adam should've guessed Lucifer was behind this. Even when he searched his brain, he couldn't figure out how a simple laptop could cause much, if any, damage. The whole situation seemed harmless. It was because Lucifer was the one who wanted it that he couldn't help but be suspicious.

His relationship with the Devil was mostly cordial. Michael had made it clear early on his vessel was off-limits when it came to torture or harassment. But the warning had ended up being unnecessary. Lucifer had, at first, focused all of his attention on his own vessel, Sam.

Adam had felt a bit bad then that Sam was experiencing such a thing while Adam was getting off scot-free. But, as he'd understood it, it was Sam's fault they were down there. Sam had decided to jump and take Lucifer with him—dragging him and Michael along for the ride. For such reasons, Adam also couldn't help but feel a little vindictive himself after all was said and done. All Adam had wanted was to see his mother and help save the world.

Lucifer did torture Sam for a while, but he must've gotten bored or finally calmed down because one day—for no discernable reason—he stopped. Sam didn't react as though he'd stopped, though. Instead, he kept screaming and tearing into himself, yelling words like "Stop!" or "No!" even though Lucifer was no longer touching him, basically torturing himself.

It almost made him relieved for Sam's sake (as well as his own) when, not long after, they saw Castiel appear. He shot into the cage with as little subtlety as a flaming meteor to snatch him, somehow managing to grab Sam's body but fly off, leaving his soul behind. He hadn't even spared a glance for Adam, despite Michael's (very much appreciated) attempt to get his attention and remind him.

The results of Sam existing in the cage without his body were a trial of their own. If Sam had seemed off or unhinged before, he was an absolute basket-case now. Lucifer even became desperate enough to try and calm him down, to no avail.

Then, once again, they had a visitor. This time 'Death' of all things. (And had Adam mentioned before he wasn't cut out for this?) While Adam was busy trying to fathom the idea of Death having a physical manifestation—on top of still trying to come to terms with Angels, Demons, and… well, everything else he'd ever thought was fantasy being real—Death retrieved Sam's soul.

Death, at least, was polite enough to acknowledge them. Adam included.

"I'm sorry, but the deal was only for one. Dean made his choice," he had said to him.

He'd immediately understood. It hurt, but he wasn't surprised. Their relationship had been short and brief, and for all they'd gone on about family and tried to appeal to him with that argument, he'd meant what he said when they first met. His mom was his family. She was the one he'd been doing all this for.

After Sam was gone, Adam worried Lucifer would get bored and come after him. After a while of showing no such inclination, though, Adam relaxed.

Adam was also surprised when Michael and Lucifer didn't fight each other. He'd been under the impression that had been the whole point of the Apocalypse. Michael had pointed out that neither could kill the other as long as they were down here. The cage kept whatever was in it alive. Fighting would be an exercise in futility.

The two of them still argued. But it was more like your average brotherly back-and-forth (if you considered disagreements over whether God would return and save them, or whether humans deserved to live or were insignificant ants that polluted and destroyed all God's other creations average).

Adam was doing okay. He figured for a guy stuck in Hell (possibly for all eternity), he was holding together pretty well. There was just some confusion over the computer.

"If we can get a signal down here, could we send messages to Earth?" Adam asked.

"And who were you planning on sending messages to?" Lucifer drawled, his human manifestation sprawled out against one of the corner cage walls. That was another thing that confused Adam. This wasn't their 'true' form he was seeing.

When Michael first appeared to him, he had been pure light. His presence had been so bright and heavy it'd felt both like staring directly at the sun and, somehow, being surrounded by it. Michael had later told him it was a miracle he'd been able to look upon him at all. Apparently, it was common for people to burn their eyes out when directly looking at them outside of a vessel. The Winchester blood that'd made it possible for him to be a vessel for Michael period must have saved him.

This meant he'd seen Michael before and had at least an idea of what an Angel could look like through human eyes. He also thought he'd caught a few glimpses of Lucifer when he was still torturing Sam. But he wasn't sure if what he'd seen was accurate after so long. Or if what he'd seen at the time had been distorted by Michael back then, trying to keep him coddled up within his…well, wings in an attempt to keep the awful things happening in front of him from view. As if not seeing Sam's torture made him any less aware of it happening. In some ways, the not seeing, the not knowing, was worse.

Lucifer's image—if his sneaked looks had been accurate—gave off the opposite impression of Michael's. If Michael was the sun, then the Devil was a black and oily hole, primed and ready to suck off or destroy any of the light that wandered near.

Adam wondered if Lucifer stayed in this humanoid form lately (despite his proclaimed hatred for the species) because he hated what had become of his original form or if it would be presumptuous of him to believe he chose to look that way to ease any discomfort Adam might've once shown at his true but now contaminated, visage.

Surely, the Devil would prefer for him to be uncomfortable? No matter how well they seemed to get along, it made little sense for Lucifer to play nice with the vessel of the brother he'd set out to kill. He'd never question such things out loud, though. Or admit to his confusion regarding the…Angel? Archangel? Devil…? Oh—whatever classification he considered himself now. Adam figured as long as he wasn't getting tortured, the status quo was best kept as it was.

"I don't really have anyone to message," he replied, remembering Lucifer's question after way too long a pause.

"Not even the Winchesters? They're your family, after all." Lucifer said it with little inflection, not at all as if he was intending mockery. But Lucifer knew he hated to be reminded of his blood ties to the brothers and how little such a tie had come to mean. Sometimes, Adam thought Lucifer missed Sam, and that was why he always brought them up when they were no longer a necessary topic of conversation.

"You know, very well, I wouldn't wanna talk to them, even if I could. They already know I'm down here. What else am I gonna say to 'em? 'Hey guys, it's your brother—you know, Adam? The guy you left in Hell? Yeah, remember him? That's me.' Nope—not at all interested in having that conversation. I was speaking in hypotheticals. Like, does social media work down here? Could we actually, like… set up a Facebook page or write a blog and call it "The Hell-Cage Experience? That would probably get a lot of page views even if nobody took it seriously."

"Yeah…I didn't understand half of what you said right there, but the computer should be capable of everything it was when it was on Earth. Of course, if you order something, we're obviously not getting it. I learned that lots of humans used that machine or ones like it to acquire food."

"Yeah." Adam brushed his hand through his hair, mentally shaking his head again at the added absurdity to this already mind-breaking situation. What was his life that he was having a casual conversation about computer usage with the Devil? In literal Hell? Adam needed to get over this. He was starting to sound like a broken record.

Music suddenly started playing from the computer for the first time since the device had appeared. Although Michael's human manifestation (an almost duplicate of himself with an added Angel aura) didn't jump or display any sign of startlement, the place where his wings would be visual when displayed distorted and, for a moment, the room became slightly breezy, portraying the Angelic version of the same thing.

Adam didn't recognize the song but could admit it was catchy. What was Michael even watching? He could admit to being a little jealous that he didn't have his own computer down here to whittle the time away—If Lucifer was going to insist on ignoring the laws of reality and physics by having a working computer down here, couldn't he have at least gotten them all one? Why was Lucifer even letting Michael hoard the thing in the first place if Lucifer had it brought here for himself? No way was he about to ask, though. Not for his own computer or about whatever his Angel companion was watching.

Lucifer had no such compunctions, of course. In fact, looking at that human face, which showed his emotions maybe a little too well, Adam would say the Devil looked a little too much like the cat that had captured the canary but wanted to play more with it before he ate it. Adam was instantly suspicious.

"Sooo…what's that you're looking at, Michael?" Lucifer asked, sounding almost like he already knew and just wanted to hear the answer aloud. The whole thing made the human nervous, and he wasn't even sure why.

Adam glanced back at Michael. He didn't seem horrified, angry, or any other emotion the human might've expected if some joke or prank had been pulled on him like he had every other time Lucifer had gotten the better of him while down here. In fact, if he had to guess based on familiarity with his own facial expressions, he would say Michael looked curious.

"It appears to be a live performance of the Winchester Gospel," Michael said. As if that simple sentence alone was self-explanatory.

"A live performance of…what?" Why were the Winchesters being mentioned again? And by Michael of all people. His Archangel roommate usually agreed with Adam that it was best they weren't discussed. The topic had negative connotations for them all. It only led to bad moods and tension.

Suddenly unable to hold back his own curiosity, Adam deduced that it was safe enough to leave his claimed corner of the cage to approach. It was only Michael, after all. He'd already spent a lot of time cuddled up within his wings. He'd felt what it was like to have that being inside him: for some moments, what it was like to share all thoughts and feelings with another without walls separating their personhood. There might as well be no more boundaries left between them to break.

Once he was practically on top of Michael—trying to get a good look at the screen he'd become affixed to—the Archangel, still perfectly attuned to him and his needs from their joining, moved the computer from his lap to in front of him and bundled him into the cleared space. Now, nothing stopped him from getting a good view of the computer. He was a lot more comfortable, too.

It only took him a couple of minutes to register what he was seeing. An 'understanding' of what he'd seen didn't end up following close behind.

There on the screen, clear as day, were Sam and Dean. At least he was pretty sure it was Sam and Dean. If not, these people were dead wringers, and…. wait, no…that was their Impala. It was definitely them.

"What the fuck am I even watching right now?"

"Weren't you listening? Michael said it was a live performance of the Winchester Gospel."

Adam jumped slightly at hearing Lucifer's voice suddenly coming from behind him. He hadn't even noticed him move. He'd been too distracted by the video—whatever it was supposed to be. Michael rested his cheek on his forehead and held him tighter as if trying to offer comfort.

"Yes, I heard him," Adam answered, trying not to sound too smart or snappish (just because Lucifer had, so far, respected Michael's demand to leave him alone, that didn't mean he was going to push it by being purposefully rude) "I just don't know what you mean by Winchester Gospel. Do you mean the prophecy that said they were supposed to be your vessels for the Apocalypse? What does a…, um, TV show?—with them in it—have to do with that?"

"The Winchester Gospel isn't the prophecy, exactly. Not in the way that you're thinking, anyway. But I guess you could call it that since it was written by a prophet."

"Prophet?" That was the first he'd heard about them. Adam supposed he shouldn't be surprised that prophets were real, too, since it seemed pretty much every other imaginary thing had turned out to be.

"Prophets are humans born with the ability to read and understand God's word. The Winchester Gospel was the written version of the Winchester's story leading up to the Apocalypse. A prophet would have been able to see it himself for documentation purposes; think of a modern-age Bible with the brothers smack-dab at the center of it."

Adam tried to take in this information while being distracted by the scene of a horrified Sam screaming up at his girlfriend as she burned to death pinned to the ceiling.

Yikes.

He wasn't particularly fond of either Winchester right now, but they did get the shitty end of the stick, didn't they? The people around them, or in any way connected to them, seemed to die in rather gruesome ways.

"Wait," he said, realizing something. "If it's like a new-age Bible written by a human, does that mean it's available for anybody to read the same way the actual Bible is? And if it's about the Winchesters and the Apocalypse, we're all in it, too, right? Even me?"

"I am soooo glad you asked," Lucifer replied. It didn't escape Adam's notice that he sounded practically giddy. He moved to where Adam could see him, shooting him a wide smile (frightening) before he huddled beside them and took control of the computer.

Lucifer exited the TV show—which had continued on to another episode—with a casual, "We can watch the rest of that later," and typed something into the Google search bar. Seeming to find what he was looking for with a satisfied "ah, ha," Lucifer turned the computer back around. "See for yourself."

Adam had been briefly distracted by wondering why Michael hadn't fought for the computer when Lucifer grabbed it but focused again as soon as he processed what he was looking at.

"What on Earth? Are you fucking serious!?"

"Well, we're certainly not on Earth anymore…" Lucifer started, but Adam wasn't listening.

The website the Devil had switched to seemed to be some sorta fan-made page. The background was all black, the continuing image of pentagrams a recurring theme. There was a banner with a picture of the Impala in it and a stylized font spelling out the word 'Supernatural' over the top of it.

There appeared to be books for sale on the site with the same series title. Was this supposed to be the Winchester Gospel? These books looked like cheap drugstore romance-novel-trash… Much like the kind Adam's mother would buy and sneak into the cart and then hide under her mattress when they got home. They were one of the only splurges she made for herself. Kate Milligan never realized that her son snuck into her room when she wasn't home (often) to read those secret books. It was the closest sometimes Adam could get to porn before he'd had his own computer at home. These books couldn't be as important as the Bible: Not looking like this.

He reached out and scrolled over to an icon titled 'characters,' determined to answer his question on whether he was included in this trash.

Did he even want to be?

No, not really.

But the idea of being forgotten, not just by the people who'd claimed him as family but by the entire world, instilled a sudden existential dread.

It took scrolling through tons of names he didn't even recognize to finally find his own, and it was with a strange mixture of relief and trepidation that he clicked on it.

A page with a picture of himself and some general information popped up—which was weird enough, but he could get over it; he was most disturbed by the info section and its accuracy despite the brevity.

"Apparently, I'm only in about four episodes of this show and two books. But one of my main appearances doesn't count because it was a ghoul pretending to be me, and the other doesn't because it was Michael. That's bullshit!"

Adam wasn't even sure why he was mad. It's not like he wanted people to be able to watch his life unfold. As he continued to look through his character page, though, he couldn't help but feel robbed—or like he was being made a mockery of somehow.

"Yawn. This is getting boring now."

Lucifer took control of the computer back, and Adam let him, unsure where else to go and not sure he even wanted to see more. He had the sneaking suspicion that being bombarded with this crap had been Lucifer's intent all along and that he and Michael were just along for the ride. 'Why' Lucifer wanted to watch, read, or interact with any of this was beyond him. Maybe he just wanted to watch himself, but Adam didn't think it would be fun to watch the events of their last year or so re-enacted when it was already such a misery experiencing them.

"It'd take forever to read through these books or watch the show. I'm sure none of us want to spend all our time staring at Sam and Dean's ugly mugs, no matter how limitless it currently is. Sooo…I say we check out some of this fan content first. Music videos, fanfiction, blogs, pairings: I don't even know some of these terms, but they all sound interesting. Humans come up with some of the most depraved—"

"Fanfiction!?" Adam practically yelped, interrupting what was sure to be another 'humans suck' rant from Lucifer he wasn't quite in the mood to withstand. Adam hadn't even given a thought to fanfiction. An old friend of his had been obsessed with Star Trek to near insanity and had introduced him to the concept by forcing him to read a story they'd written using the show's characters. Adam had learned a lot about his friend that day, and he'd never been able to watch an episode of Star Trek with a clean mind again. It had made his mother's erotica seem like child's play.

"Well, that's an interesting reaction," was all Lucifer had to say. Damn it! He should've controlled himself better. Adam could already see the cursor heading towards that 'cursed' word.

"Wait! You really don't want to…see any of that…" Adam trailed off, seeing Lucifer was no longer paying attention to him. Michael's eyes were still glued to the computer, and Adam wondered if he'd glanced away from it even once since it'd appeared down here.

"So 'fanfiction' is 'fan' stories written by fans about certain characters and events. I don't see the problem here. What wouldn't I want to see?"

"Weren't you just saying, 'Humans come up with some of the most depraved—' and so on? You telling me you can't imagine what could be terrible about stories possibly written about 'our' lives?"

Adam knew he shouldn't be saying this even as it came out of his mouth. It'd be smarter to let Lucifer think the topic is dull. Maybe part of him wanted Lucifer to suffer what he'd once had to endure. Then again, the Devil had a strange sense of humor. He was just as likely to find the whole thing amusing. What the fuck did Adam know? He'd almost suspect torturing him, and Michael, with fanfiction, was actually part of his motive here if it weren't for his seemingly ignorant confusion on the topic. If Adam had learned anything, it was that Lucifer was manipulative. But he never lied.

"Depraved?" Lucifer asked with new interest, his face inching closer to the screen.

Yeah.

He wasn't faking that.

Adam resigned himself to the inevitable and braced for impact. Being a minor 'character' might be his only saving grace here.

"I wouldn't get too excited. Don't say I didn't warn you when you find something you don't like," Adam warned. Lucifer getting pissed off would benefit none of them.

"Oh, I see. So, this is where pairings come into play. I wonder…"

Adam caught Lucifer's glance at him out of the corner of his eye and the following smirk. So much for that 'saving grace'. He was clearly Lucifer's first target.

"You were so upset about not having many appearances. About being the unimportant brother—the spare—even here."

"Brother—" Michael finally chipped in again, and Adam recognized his warning tone. Lucifer sure liked to kick below the belt and, not so surprisingly, play with fire.

Adam tried to control his face enough so his scowl wasn't obvious, but had a feeling he'd failed spectacularly. He snuggled further into Michael's arms—his only comfort down here—and felt his body relax when the Angel squeezed him even tighter.

Thankfully, Lucifer only rolled his eyes and mumbled what Adam was sure was 'so sensitive' before continuing with his clicking, undeterred.

"Well, look at that! Most of the 'fanfiction' here involves you and Michael in a sexual or romantic relationship. Wow, big brother! Never thought I'd see you degrade yourself this way. Even if it's only in a piece of fiction written by humans."

Michael's posture straightened, and he could almost imagine the look of contempt he'd be sending Lucifer even with his back to him. Adam rubbed the Angel's arm, attempting to return comfort and calm.

"Not that I can blame the humans for speculating about how you two act. You're way too soft on your vessel, Michael. You might as well glue him to your side and be done with it."

"If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it."

Lucifer hummed and continued messing with the computer.

"Here's an interesting summary: 'Michael has a boner but doesn't know what to do with it. Adam teaches him one of the pleasures of being human.'"

Adam cringes but isn't surprised. Yeah, that was to be expected. Adam supposed it also made sense that any fan-made material would focus on him in conjunction with Michael. He was the 'character' he'd interacted with the most. He'd literally been inside him (yes, he could grasp the erotic implications).

Adam snuck a look at Michael, relieved to see he looked more confused than angry. He thought about what he wanted to say.

"You realize you've probably been paired up with everybody at least once yourself, right? You're too important. You probably had plenty of 'screen time' or 'page-time,' or whatever the fuck we're going with here."

"And why should it bother me what humans write about me?"

"Well, as you've probably gathered, most of it is porn. Here, let me see the computer for a minute?"

Lucifer arched an eyebrow at him but pushed it over. Adam was clearly being humored; he hoped he could find what he had in mind.

It was easier than it should've been to navigate the website. And it took less time than it should've to find something inflammatory.

"Look at this," Adam said, passing the computer back. Adam took a perverse amount of pleasure in the blank expression that came over Lucifer's face as he realized what he was reading. Adam might not agree with most of Lucifer's anti-human dogma. But he could get behind his belief in their depravity. The human imagination could be downright vile.

"Did you want to read the summary of that one out loud? Or maybe you'd like to check out the story itself." Adam hoped Lucifer didn't call his bluff and actually attempt to read what he'd found. Adam had no desire to hear such things and was sure Michael would find it equally traumatizing. It might even have Michael agreeing with Lucifer about humans being disgusting and all deserving to die. Now that he was thinking about it… showing Lucifer such a thing and daring to taunt him might not have been such a good idea.

"We're moving on to something else. There's nothing of value to see here," Lucifer growled. His hands were clenched, and his eyes glowed a burning red. If Lucifer had had laser vision, the computer would be a smoking, charred pile of unworkable parts.

Adam relaxed.

Lucifer was clearly pissed, but it wasn't at him.

"How about some videos, or… Oh, here's a fan song."

The look on Lucifer's face now scared Adam. More than the one he'd given the computer after reading the summary of the story that ‘must not be named or explained.'

A tune started up, and Adam frowned at the almost immediate mention of Sam and Dean. Adam wasn't sure what he was supposed to be waiting for. Lucifer was watching him with what could only be anticipation. It was clearly an Apocalypse song, and he could only assume he'd be getting a mention. It was nearing the chorus when he heard the first hint of himself: a mention of the writers forgetting someone. He just knew that had to mean him.

And then he heard the actual chorus.

"We are never ever saving Adam ever!? Really?"

Someone had written an actual song about how forgettable he was. Sam and Dean's perspective added extra sting to already painful mockery. Was this all he was to anyone who knew his story? An unremarkable, unimportant joke.

It was one thing for Lucifer to tease him: Lucifer was just being Lucifer. And this was obviously his revenge for managing to make him uncomfortable. It was a separate issue to know his fellow humans could think so little of him when he'd only ever tried his best to be respectable. When he'd been willing to give his body over to do what he'd believed to be right. When he'd only wanted to see his mother and now might never be reunited with her again.

Lucifer smiled at his reaction. But Michael, who'd always been so unnaturally attuned to his emotional state, straightened up. He flared his wings in a way that made his presence seem towering and finally put in his two cents.

"While I'm not averse to studying the Gospel—as it may have answers to our current predicament and shine a light on what has been happening among the host since I have been gone—I have to protest this obvious targeting of Adam for your sick entertainment. I've told you time again that my vessel is off limits."

"And you haven't seen me lay a finger on him. Have you?" Lucifer sneered. Adam wondered if this would escalate into another 'bitch-fight-argument.' (Man, was he glad Michael wasn't currently paying attention to his thoughts.) Experiencing more of this Winchester-based crap didn't appeal to him in the slightest: Not with how he'd been depicted. He wasn't much in the mood for listening to them go back and forth, either, for however long they'd decide to have a go.

"Can't we just decide on something that won't make any of us angry? Maybe get started on that learning Michael mentioned. Because he had a point, you know? There's a good chance we could learn about what's been happening while we've been down here. It hardly benefits us to be uninformed."

Some of Michael's tenseness relaxed, and a slight breeze from his wings told Adam they'd also been put away. Adam turned to look at Lucifer again.

"We could get info on what's been happening in Hell too." Adam's careful not to say what he's actually thinking: that Lucifer could see Sam again and learn how he's doing. Lucifer's obsession was one best not spoken of; he'd deny it anyway.

Both Angels agreed with Adam with only a little grumbling and a couple murmured insults from Lucifer that Adam pretended not to hear. Lucifer was just upset they'd managed to ruin his fun.

Now that they had a plan, they just needed to put it into motion. Adam reached towards the computer again slowly, wondering if Lucifer would put up a fight about handing it over, but he shoved it at him instantly. Adam guessed Lucifer didn't want to have to put in the work if he couldn't fuck with them anymore. Adam wasn't about to complain.

Adam settled the computer into a position far enough from him so Lucifer could still see the screen. It'd been paused on the YouTube video for the song he'd been so hurt by. With a quick type of 'Supernatural mvs' in the search bar, it directed him to other options. Lots of options! Man, this show was popular. He hardly knew where to start.

Adam clicked on a couple random vids but got nothing out of them beyond further confirmation of Sam and Dean's life sucking, their codependent relationship, and the strange homoerotic tension between Castiel and Dean which the fans not only noticed but seemingly loved.

"Well, those weren't very helpful. Why don't we look up some videos focusing on the Angels."

Adam did so, and this time hit paydirt. These videos focused a lot more on the Angels and what they'd been up to. Some of it was hard for him to follow without the context, but he was focusing on trying to absorb everything until—

"You killed Gabriel?" Michael didn't yell, but his voice seemed to boom and almost shake the cage from being so powerful. The grip Michael still had around him was equally strong. Adam was grateful he couldn't actually die down here. And that he didn't need to breathe. Otherwise, the hold would have already suffocated him. Adam tried to pay attention to what Michael was actually saying.

Gabriel?

Right, Gabriel.

Apparently, Lucifer had killed him.

The video was still going, but nobody was paying it any mind. He reached a hand out to pause it, trying not to attract the attention of either of them. Michael was angrier than Adam had ever seen him. Adam trusted Michael to not want to hurt him, but that didn't mean he couldn't end up collateral damage. His ribs could attest to that.

Would this be the inciting incident? The thing to finally turn them to violence? Adam supposed Lucifer's response might be the determining factor.

Lucifer looked surprised. Adam wondered if he'd forgotten that he'd killed Gabriel or if he simply assumed nobody would ever find out.

"It wasn't Gabriel's place to interfere. He helped Sam and Dean get away, kept waving his Angel Blade around in my face, and seemed very protective of the humans, above all else. He'd clearly been down on Earth too long and became too accustomed to their ways. What else would you have had me do?"

"Maybe not kill your brother. You were always Gabriel's favorite: The only one to enjoy his pranks. The only one who could understand his jokes. You taught him to fly. Even during our fights, he never once took sides. He had to know you were in the wrong, but his love and worship for you prevented him from ever truly standing against you. Were you truly incapable of subduing him long enough for you to get away? You couldn't appeal to him… or talk him down—someone who once loved you that much?"

Lucifer, for once, appeared lost for words. (Talk about family drama. And he thought his issues with his own were bad.) Adam suddenly had a lot of questions he'd never thought to ask: What happened to an Angel when they died? Did they stop existing? Did they have their own afterlife? Was it better than here? He supposed it had to be.

There was still no answer from Lucifer. Adam knew better than to dare ask any of his questions now. His mouth would stay firmly shut while letting them sort this out. No way was he getting in the middle of this.

"Your silence might as well be an admission of guilt." Michael was trying his best to sound all-commanding and unemotional. The bond between him and Adam that let Michael perceive what he was feeling, however, worked both ways. Right now, he was feeling a grief Adam hadn't yet felt from him before. Not even their fall into the cage had elicited such an emotional response; he'd mostly just been angry then.

"Like you're squeaky clean being Dad's loyal soldier. You'd have killed him yourself if it'd been an order from God. Just like you threw me down here on his orders. You're the last person who'd have any right to lecture me on betrayal: on family loyalty." Lucifer sneered again as he practically spat the words.

Michael glowered and shot right back: "Your actions led to me striking you down—not just God. If you'd just listened—"

"—Here we go again: 'If you'd only just listened and followed orders like every other Angel, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. If you'd only just listened and been a good puppet soldier, none of this would've happened,'" Lucifer mocked with a roll of his eyes. "Don't take any accountability for your own mistakes. The 'Great and Powerful Archangel Michael' doesn't make mistakes. He's just Daddy's perfect boy. Well, it doesn't seem like he's coming down here to rescue you, does it? God has abandoned you too! Despite your enduring loyalty and stupidity."

"Faith is not stupid," Michael retorted. "And must you insist on talking poorly of our father?"

"He's the reason we're both down here, Mikey. The reason we're all down here. Apparently, he doesn't care about your vessel, either—despite insisting we prioritize these humans above all else. What excuse can you even give for that, huh? Are we meant to believe that he just… what? Didn't notice our Apocalypse: Didn't notice one of his Archangels dying and another falling into the cage? 'He who supposedly sees all'? What's more likely? That he hasn't realized or doesn't care? About any of us."

Adam didn't much appreciate being brought up in this conversation, especially when said conversation was a reminder that nobody seemed to care that he was here (aka: In Hell). Secretly, though, while he'd never tell Michael, he agreed somewhat with Lucifer; God didn't seem invested in any of them. One of the things that had brought him closer to Michael—that had made him sympathetic—had been his…well, 'toxic' relationship with his father. Even easier to empathize with was Lucifer's hatred towards that same father due to a disillusionment Michael had yet to overcome.

"We're down here to pay penance," Michael shot back in defense. "Father is hardly going to reward failure."

"Well, he certainly doesn't reward loyalty. What's your human paying penance for? What did he theoretically do wrong in this scenario? He was just doing what he thought was right, wasn't he? Doing what you and the other Angels told him to?"

Michael seemed to struggle with this, and Adam tried peaking up at him to see if he could catch his expression. Adam was curious what excuse he'd come up with for this one, if any; he wouldn't even be mad at the insinuation that Adam could've done something deserving of spending an eternity down here when he'd managed to make it into Heaven before.

Michael's arms clenched around him again, but softer this time and without the anger. Adam didn't manage to get anything from his expression (Adam admitted to stupidity in hindsight; Michael's face was hardly a display of emotion, and there was no reason for this time to be any different), but Michael let out an almost audible sigh. His Archangel's emotions, unlike the rest of him, were anything but tame. Adam could feel the conflict and confusion as strongly as if they were his own.

Lucifer seemed to grasp from Michael's sudden silence that he'd scored his first point in this back-and-forth because he smirked, suddenly confident from this small but important victory. At any other time, Adam might have been amused and grateful that Lucifer was getting through to Michael on the whole 'God issue.' Right now, though, Lucifer trying to use this to distract from him having killed their brother and then throwing Adam into the argument made Adam furious.

'Screw it,' Adam thought, 'I'm done shutting up.'

"Look, obviously, none of us are having the time of our lives down here, but it doesn't really do to dwell on the whys and hows. We have to make the best of our situation while still being ready to take any chances that turn up to get out of here. This, right here—" Adam shook the laptop to remind them both that it was there. "—this is the closest we've gotten; the only information we have available."

Lucifer stared at him. He could sense he had Michael's attention as well.

"Michael's got a right to be mad. His brother's dead, and he's only just found out. Lucifer, you have a right to be mad too. About being stuck here again, I mean. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on Michael since it wasn't even his fault this time. You told me, yourself, that fighting down here's pointless, so maybe stop trying to instigate one." Adam glared at Lucifer, trying to look braver than he actually felt. "And stop using me to antagonize Michael. It's hardly very creative of you."

"Your vessel's got bite, Michael. Real Winchester trait."

"Milligan," Adam corrected in further irritation. "Can we please just—" Adam shook the computer again in frustration. "We were really getting somewhere. Do you two wanna keep fighting about something neither of you can do anything about, or do you want to get educated? Cause I'm telling you, right now, if it turns out there was some way outta here we didn't know about that this did and we miss it, I'll find a way to make the both of you regret it…" Adam took another look at the both of them as they stared at him—Lucifer with an arched brow and Michael curiously—and felt his temporary bravery abandon him.

"…somehow," he muttered in a much weaker, lower voice.

For some reason, his outburst seemed to kick the two of them into gear. Michael suddenly arranged the laptop and the both of them so he had better access to the controls while still having a firm grip on him. Adam wondered if it was a good idea for Michael to be in charge—given his previous immersion (more like obsession) with said computer—but Adam figured he'd already said his piece. For now, he just wanted to feel like he was accomplishing something.

Neither Lucifer nor Michael apologized, but Adam assumed by their behavior that it was implied. Lucifer, at least, would never lower himself enough to do so—and Adam knew Michael would never do it in front of Lucifer, who'd no doubt use it as an excuse for further mockery.

Sometimes, seeing the devastation that was their relationship made him happy about never being able to build anything real with his own brothers. If having siblings caused one this much pain and drama, maybe he was better off without them.

Michael continued with the video route since they'd already proven useful. (And Adam's heart did ache for Michael about the Gabriel situation. Of all the stories Michael had told Adam of Heaven, the ones involving the trickster Angel had been his favorite.)

These videos involved more Angel drama: Drama that Adam still lacked some context to entirely understand. He could tell it was bad, though. And not just from the tenseness and feelings Michael was projecting from their bond.

"Raphael is dead too," was Michael's next despondent comment. The hurt practically emanated from him at this point—a dark rolling cloud of misery over his usual sunny brightness.

"Well, you can hardly blame me for that one. I think Castiel might have single-handedly done more damage in these videos than I managed during our entire apocalypse escapade. I'd be in awe if it weren't so insulting." Lucifer certainly didn't look amused.

"Much as I hate to agree with you, there is something seriously wrong with that Angel. He seems incapable of following orders or respecting authority. There's no need to make light of our prophesized battle by referring to it as an escapade, though, Lucifer."

"Sure. Disrespect of authority. That's the problem." Lucifer's eyes rolled back so far in his head that Adam feared they'd get stuck that way. His sarcasm was so thick Adam could drown in it.

The videos kept going and kept getting progressively worse.

"At this point, the question we should be asking is if there are any angels left. Also…what's so special about Castiel that his death never seems to stick."

Neither Michael nor Lucifer appeared to like the implications. They both had to know the most likely reason for Castiel's constant revivals was God's favor. How Castiel could have earned said favor without trying when even Lucifer and Michael's fanatical bids to garner attention had resulted in radio silence, Adam didn't know. It just left the increasing impression of God being that crappy, absentee father Lucifer had painted him as, whether Michael was able to admit to it yet or not.

Purgatory, Soulless Sam, The Trials, The Angels Falling, The Mark of Cain, The Darkness: The hits never stopped. And…wait, was that supposed to be God? The guy writing the Winchester gospel and pretending to be a Prophet? What? When Michael and Lucifer said nothing, Adam decided to do the same. They either hadn't reached the same conclusion (noticed) or didn't want to discuss it and were ignoring it. Adam could get behind that.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this—feel free to slap me if I'm being ridiculous, 'cause I'm probably way out of line here—but…do you think maybe…we might actually be safer down here? Everyone up there seems to be cursed or something."

Apropos of nothing, without the slightest warning, Lucifer disappeared.

Adam stared at the now empty space. Gone. Just like that. Adam tensed and grasped onto Michael's arm around him, worried he or Michael might be next. Michael held on just as tight, also wary. Only after a few minutes of neither of them going anywhere did he lower his guard.

"Was it something I said?" Adam asked, suddenly feeling the need to whisper. "Did I jinx it?"

"Of course not. Lucifer must have been summoned."

"Who would or could summon Lucifer out of the cage?" He asked, then almost knocked himself out from the force of his own palm meeting face at his stupidity.

"Winchesters," both Adam and Michael ended up saying simultaneously.

"But why?" Adam asked.

"They must need an Archangel for something." And, boy, was Michael mad; the increased thunder and lightning noises from outside the cage evidence (representation) of his vast displeasure.

"They needed an Archangel, and they chose Lucifer?" That was dubious. Lucifer might help—especially if Sam was doing the asking—but he'd hardly do it for free. God knows what other mischief he'd get into while up there.

Given how they'd just been talking about a curse, there was also a good chance Lucifer would be killed. Adam felt weird thinking about it. Lucifer drove him crazy, and he was hardly a pinnacle of moral righteousness. But Adam would miss him. Adam had gotten used to thinking of Michael and Lucifer as his eternal companions. Now, one of them was gone. He couldn't help but grip Michael harder again, still slightly scared that he'd vanish, too, and Adam would be alone. That would be the end of his sanity right then.

"If the darkness destroyed the world…or whatever it is she does, would it affect us, too? Could Lucifer even defeat it?"

"Everything would be affected. The last time the darkness had to be shut away, it took the combined power of God and all four of his Archangels. Even then, it was still difficult and resulted in grievous injuries. I don't see how it could be accomplished unless God has returned to fight and decides to bring us all back."

Michael didn't even look hopeful while saying it, proof this new information and situation had him out of sorts. Adam just had to hope that if Michael was summoned, Adam would be taken as well. The Angel would still need a vessel, after all. Adam doubted Dean had suddenly changed his views on possession. Adam could also admit to jealousy at the idea of Dean taking his place in this instance. Dean hadn't wanted to be Michael's vessel, but Adam had been filling that role for so long now he no longer knew any other way to be.

"So what are we supposed to do now?"

"There's nothing we can do," Michael admitted reluctantly. Adam knew Michael hated feeling helpless and not being able to do anything. Michael hadn't known a day of idleness until he found himself here. Adam had promised himself if they ever escaped, he'd insist on a vacation. They both deserved one, and there were so many places Adam had never gotten to see while alive that he thought Michael might get some pleasure from now.

"We should be on our guard, though, I'm guessing?"

Michael nodded against his back.

For a moment, Adam wanted to say, 'screw this,' and hide again in his angel companion's wings as he had so long ago. To forget everything and make that feathery embrace his entire world. It was strange, almost, how that seemed like a simpler time. It certainly hadn't seemed simple at the time.

"You just wanna watch some more of this Supernatural crap? It won't take our mind off anything, but I'm sure there's still much to learn. Why don't we look up some videos about ourselves? I'm sure we must have at least a few. Oh, and your brothers! We could find some about them too. See what they'd been up to before…well, just before. I hope this computer doesn't run out of power. Now that I'm thinking about it, it already should've run out if it was going to. You'd been messing with it for days before we'd even commented. I'm not even going to ask what had you so engrossed." Adam knew he was babbling but also knew Michael wouldn't mind. He'd told Adam before that he liked knowing what Adam was thinking but had difficulty figuring it out.

Adam rearranged himself again until he was comfy and brought YouTube back up. He was determined not to think about their imminent demise, the possibility of Michael disappearing, Lucifer being dead, or the Winchesters (despite them being prominent in everything and, therefore, impossible to ignore).

No.

None of those things existed right now. Adam and Michael were watching fiction. Pieces of a TV show. It had nothing to do with their lives at all. If he thought of it that way…maybe it would make these viewings easier to bear? Put less of a strain on his heart and his mind.

Adam took a deep breath, ready to start the next set of videos.

"You ready?" He asked Michael.

"It's only pragmatic to learn all we can. You said something similar yourself."

"Okay, what have I said about using my own words against me?"

"To not do so. Though I'm slightly confused about whose I should be using if not yours."

Adam sighed and shook his head.

Angels.

Hopeless.

All of them.

"Let's just get watching."

33 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 1 year

Note

gaaahh I love your platonic TF141 x reader!! I was wonder if we could get some more, but for a Gn!Reader?

for context I find it hard to swap pronouns when reading, but if not that's fine lol!

and if you want, have some writing prompts!

-Southern!Reader gets drunk, acting like a fool, they're accent the strongest it's ever been, and TF141 is just "wtf are they even saying?"

-general shenanigans with Gaz and Reader, pranking ghost >:]

-SNOW DAY! the boys have the day off, and it ends up with a snowball fight, soap, ghost, and reader VS. gaz, price, and könig (yes I added him I am a simp for this man)

-Reader gets hit on in public, and 141 acts like big brothers + father and beat the crap outa whoever was unfortunate enough to pick on Reader

-DAD PRICE. just. him teaching Reader things, giving pointers, and being protective off-field

anyways sorry for the long ask! hope your doing well :]

Sweet Creature -141+König

ofc! I always try to make my readers comfortable when reading so never shy away for asking this!

This is a collection of moments your boys have been through with you...(there is mentions of an American reader, but if you please it can only apply to the first one.)

GN! Reader, Plantonic! Relationship

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(I had to look up southern sayings so if this part doesn't make sense I apologize. (feeling too brit today..sorry))

After a much needed out in the town 141 had been deployed to, r/n decided it would be great to compete against Soap in a drinking game. Drink after drink, your once good basic American accent left your lips and was soon replaced with your souther accent. Price at first found it funny, until he couldn't tell exactly what you were trying to say.

Gaz: that was until I dropped it all

R/n to Ghost: That's 'bout as useful as tits on a bull, wouldn't ya'say?

Price: *chuckles* what does that even mean kid?

R/n: o' bless ya heart sir (apparently it means idiot,,,so don't come for me) y'dumber than a mule

*a woman passes by their table and Gaz starts checking her out*

R/n: look at him price, he's grinnin' like a possum eatin' a sweet tater

Price: seriously what does that mean?

Ghost: think they mean he looks like a dumb arse

Gaz stands up to try and talk to that woman

R/n: soap tell em somethin'

Soap: go get her tiger

R/n: No, no,,,you hold your horses now...she ain't even turn to ya and yo're hotter than hell al'ready?

Price: right...let's get you home r/n

R/n: I can take 'nother one....

Ghost: not today *he picks you up and off to base you go*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After an uneventful evening Gaz and r/n decided to annoy Ghost, a ritual Price had gotten used to, after Ghost came in to complain every week. Price would always discard them because he loved having his children smile and be young and happy.

There was one time where you placed syrup on his tea. Another time, you kept calling his phone, pretending to be some religious group, this went on for 3 months. One time you made him believe the whole base left him, you stole his phone and clothes, best believe you never saw the devil until that day.

2 weeks ago, Ghost was tricked into eating some expired MRE, that man got sick so easily, Gaz was tricked into taking the blame. Meanwhile you enjoyed some banana with soap as Ghost chased Gaz for 30 minutes, until you tripped Gaz and ran to price.

R/n: dumb bitch!*you ran so fast, soap swore it was you being chased*

----

This happened at 2 am, Ghost's room.

You and gaz know how much ghost hates dirty bed sheets. So you did this:

Gaz: r/n pass me the chocolate

R/n: why are we doing this again?

Gaz: its fun

R/n: how will this even work?

Gaz: it'll melt under his body and make it look like he shat himself

R/n: this is so cool

Gaz: shh

you two walked into Ghost's room, he was dead asleep, when he shifted to his left side, Gaz placed the chocolate near his bum, you two successfully ran out and waited outside all morning.

Ghost opens his door, anger flowing through him

Ghost: where are these little twats

That's when you and Gaz ran away to Price's office, he eventually caught up and complained to Price. (I'm picturing that office scene when Dwight and Jim are complaining to Micheal. Yes, the American one. )

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

This time the team was deployed to Switzerland, for everyone it all felt like home, spring and summer was quite lovely, that's until Price was told this deployment would be longer that expected. Winter rolled in, everyone was prepared for a harsh winter, except you, who had never experienced snow. You had told soap how every year when you're away from home, snow has hit hard, and that you had never seen snow in real life.

This had become a perfect opportunity for him to show you how much you meant for the team. So once he had told price about the sad story of yours, they planned an entire day out.

Soap: c'mon r/n its time for your surprise.

He bought you gloves and a scarf,( he knows how easily it is to get cold.) Once outside, you ran around screaming in delight. "This is awesome!" you said as you tackled soap onto the snow.

Gaz was the one who started the snowball fight. Price took his side. Ghost and soap took yours. Poor König was stuck in the middle, deciding who to join, until price dragged him to his side and that's when the fight seriously started.

(Picture that SpongeBob snowball fight)

Soap tripped multiple times, your face was covered in snow because you couldn't stop laughing at him. Ghost did most of the dirty work, he seriously took this serious.

He pulled you both down, "right, so while I get price, r/n you get König, he'll feel bad for throwing things at a midget and quit, gaz will soon give up, so soap he is all yours.

"That was mean man" you said but all he did was push you to the floor, where you got stuck for 2 minutes. He eventually helped you up and continued the fight.

Even though he was a trained soldier, König never threw anything at any of you, he was too afraid of getting anybody injured. Best believe this man walked out and waited until things became friendly. He eventually built a snowman. The same one soap ran through. "awh, my snow friend" he sadly spoke. (please imagine this with his cute little Austrian accent and his giant figure just looking down and picking up the sticks and hat from his snowman..)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

This time around you encouraged the team to go out once more. It was September in some other country. After years of working with your boys you never expected them to be your guard dogs. You went up to the bar to order your drinks, until two people walked up behind you and sat at the stools beside you. (I'll let ya decided on the gender ;) )

"What is a cute thing like you doing around this place" one spoke, while the other got too close for comfort.

" Look whatever it is..I'm not interested" you answered,

The guys know you're able to fend for yourself, after all they've seen you kill men with your bare hands, but you had become their little sibling. They all swore to protect you no matter how big or small your problems were.

"You're just here by yourself love?" the other said, while reaching for you.

Price tapped that persons shoulder, "leave them alone," as price spoke to them, soap took you and brought you to the other side. "You stay here, understood?" he cupped your face in his hand.

All you did was nod. "good" he walked away and the four men took them out the back. "you don't touch them ever, or else I swear you'll go back home in a bag" Ghost towered over them,

"this is nonsense, they aren't even good looking!" one said.

(this is very...manners maketh man...vibes )

Price swung and hit ones jaw, "you fuck!" they said holding onto their face. "run you pricks" gaz threatened. "Soap hand me your gun"Price never took his eyes off of them. Ghost took out on of his pocket knives, he caressed it and looked at them. Gaz did too, man would he defend you.

But before soap handed his gun to his captain they had ran out.

Once inside, you sat there. Starring at them with those kind eyes of yours. They immediately went soft. "Got your favorite drink, kid?"

"yes, can I asked what happened out there?"

"nope...after this we can get some McDonalds, that's if you never ask about this again" man was he good at deals you thought.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(For this one I'll put you as a 23yr old, who specializes in hand to hand combat, and demolitions, as well as a training sniper, mainly bc i feel you need a little background.)

Price never understood how his colleagues could afford love for their kids. He didn't get how one little human would change their ways of being. That's until you arrived at base. Fresh off boot camp.

The day he met you, he understood why his friends back home retired after having kids. It went from him sparring with you, just to test your limits to making sure you were getting sleep, (this man for sure tucked you in)

"Sir, you're telling me that if I boil that liquid it will actually turn into a quality beverage?"

"How do I change my tire?"

"wait..how do I check for my oil?"

"price? are you sure I can go home? I don't want to be alone."

" can you please kill it? I'm scared man."

After teaching you from the most basic things in life a father should teach to what a military dad would teach, he grew fond of you.

Around December he found you roaming base, all alone. The rest of the team (except him ofc) was sent back home, to spend time with family and friends. Once you explain how you had no family to go back home to, he made you pack your bags and head to his. Funny enough, Ghost was already heading to his, it had become a thing between them.

He told you about his wife, how she wasn't able to conceive and how excited she was to met you. Later that week, she called you her child. You and Ghost had found a forever home with him. "These are my children." she proudly said to anyone who asked about the two socially awkward people standing next to her.

A week before Christmas, he took you and ghost hunting, that day he let you have a puff off of his cigar. "be careful now, don't inhale too much." he pointed at you, like he was talking to a child.

After the holiday, you were allowed to call him dad, pops when you were at his place.

Out at bars, he would keep you close. And when someone would clearly flirt with you, it was in him to remind you "no person will ever be good enough for you, understand kid?"

He even cracked dad jokes with Ghost and you. He made sure to update his family portrait from him and his wife to one of the four of you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tags: @thatonesimpyknow

a/n: I know It really long..but I hope you did enjoy it!

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

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ruinedbylanadelrey · 7 months

Text

In the air, In the Moon

Inspired by My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

Joel Miller x Ghost!F!Reader

Summary: She was the first to go. Joel is learning to cope without his love. And then...

WC: only 4.6k warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (Reader mid 20s, Joel late 50s), bit of canon divergence, MAJOR DEATH (Reader), Reader is called ‘lovey’ by every one, Joel Miller crying a lot, TLOU PART 2 Spoilers, Ellie and Joel angst, Reader has long hair, domestic!Joel, husband!Joel, smut (ghost sex/handjob), suicide due to injury (Reader), hurt/comfort, murder hosue type beat (AHS SEASON 1), joel's suicidal thoughts, fluff, abuse (reader was a victim not form Joel), description of corpse, yooo sarah makes an appearance, i have poor knowledge of medicine, joel is a cat person, a little frank sinatra, religious imagery AN: Let's kick off October with angst, fluff, and smut. I'm sorry for what I wrote. playlist imagery masterlist

'Save who you can save'

He lost his head when Joel first saw you collapsed right outside of Jackson on a patrol trail. He expected someone older not so young and beautiful. You were a fallen angel coming into his life, you arrived alone and sick with the flu. He will never forget the whimpers when he picks up your body burning with a fever.

"Shh, it's okay, angel, you're gonna get ya' some help," He gently picks up your body, and Tommy helps him get you on Joel's horse, setting up front so he could hold you up. Joel looks at how pale your skin is, the bruises scattered on your hands, and how ill-equipped you were to be out in the bitter winter conditions in Wyoming.

Tommy and Joel came back with you sick, knocking on heaven's door when they had you rushed to the infirmary; rushed as in, Joel carrying you directly there and grabbing the town's doctors right from his office.

"Found 'er out on patrol. Now listen here," His southern drawl comes out when he has tunnel vision on getting you well again.

"You will give her the best medicine, remember I know whatcha got," Joel lets go of the poor man and watches him assess your state. Checking your temperature and finding you new clothes. When the doctor comes back with the set of dry clothes Joel brings him to a halt with a hand to the chest.

"I want Nurse Cadence to dress her," Joel demands with a huff. The doctor nods and quickly goes to the nurse doing a check on the other patients. Cadence an older woman who was a nurse back before the outbreak. She comes with the set of clothes and a wrinkled smile. Joel nods and steps out of the room waiting for the door to open again.

When Cadence opened the door, her face was in a frown and her eyes were welling up with tears.

"She's been abused..." She weeps before wiping away the tears. Joel closed his eyes and bowed his head, he knew how heinous people were. He starts imagining the worst happening with you. Questions start bulleting in his head.

Joel could feel his benevolent side come out when he walked in seeing you asleep with your eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. The doctor comes back with a wet cloth and drapes it across your forehead.

"She needs sleep. I'll notify you as soon as she wakes up." Doc walks Joel out of the room to the doors. Joel waited for a moment before stepping back outside to the cold. Winter always made him nauseated and he really could sense it once images of your body in snow being left for dead wouldn't leave his fatal mind.

Winter was brutal, Joel tried to think about Texas and how it would get freezing but never snow and the sun would still come out. When was the last time he saw the sun? It's been cloudy and snowing for so long. He huffs out, his breath dances in the air like a ghost. Just another reminder that he is still kicking and screaming 50 years later.

Joel would wake up every morning before patrol to head to the infirmary. You wouldn't wake up until 2 days later. You woke drenched in sweat, your chest feeling sticky, and your muscles all over your body just wincing in pain with every move you made. The day that you first woke up, you sat up straight in the bed and hyperventilated. Nurse Cadence had you calm down by breathing with your belly.

You were shaking after your breathing evened out. Brain fog and general confusion were a mist in your brain. A tall gruff man stood at the doorway with flowers, where could you get flowers in winter? He was tan but fading to pale tan, had salt and pepper hair, and a leather coat that looked so warm. The nurse greeted him with open arms, maybe he isn't going to kill you? Where even are you?

"My love, this is Joel Miller. He was the one who found you at death's door." Nurse Cadence ushers in Joel and takes the flowers from his grasp. Joel's eyes were dancing around your face, taking in how the color of your skin was coming back, your flushed cheeks and nose, doe eyes full of fear. You froze in place, your heart slamming against your chest.

"Howdy," Joel didn't know what else to do but stick out his hand. You quickly tucked into yourself and held up your hands for defense. You waited a minute before letting yourself look at Joel, he was at the end of the bed with his hands in his pockets.

"I-I'm sorry," Your voice was still horsed from not talking about days on end.

"It's fine, just wanted to see how you were getting by?" Joel gives a half smile not knowing how to display his relief of you being alive.

"I'm alive...I don't know how I can ever pay you back for saving m-my life," You bring your knees to your chest and wipe away the onset tears. Yes, you have been sick but he saved you from ever being found by your captor. It's been a long winter just as much as for you as it was for Joel.

"Sorry, I don't mean to cry in front of you," You cleared your throat and blinked the salt water from your eyes. You giggled and that caused Joel to just fall to the ground and never your side like a guard dog protecting their favorite girl.

That small giggle from your pale pink lips was the butterfly effect to the end of your life and the start of Joel's suicidal thoughts again. But we aren't there yet in the story.

That small giggle got you to where you were now, about to move outside of Jackson gates with Joel and the 3 kittens you recused. The farmhouse on the hill with a barn adjacent to the house. It was perfect Joel was getting his dreams with a few additions, you, his young beautiful wife, and 3 kittens that he didn't have the heart turn away from when you carried them in the house like a child.

You were always trying to save others, which has caused you a lot of pain. Finding puppies and kittens on the brink of death, hoping you could cure them with the warmth of your heart. But it was like you were a living and breathing Grim Reaper. But these kittens were more than 4 months old and seemed to be living off mice and different kinds of rodents.

When Joel asked you to be his love forever, it was a spring day and he took you outside of the walls of Jackson. He wanted to show you an abandoned home with a lot of land. You were excited to see the world again for the first time in a long time.

The hike to the pasture of land with a house that looked small until you got closer it got bigger. White paint chipped on the siding. The roof only missing a few shingles. A beautiful porch that wrapped all around the home.

Joel watches your eyes grow wide and a smile paints across your face. You giggled and ran up the steps to the porch. Your hands glide along the railing, bumps hitting the ridges of your fingertips.

The giant columns towering over you, imagining having Joel install a hanging planter for the flowers that you love, maybe a few more for vines. You could see the cats liking to sit in the sun in the mornings and just sleep on the porch swing. A whisper of child-like giggles flows through one ear and out the other and a cold chill runs through your body. The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

"Do ya like the place?" Joel comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You smile and nod trying to not show you were just stunned.

"I love it," You turn around, and wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the end of his hair. He looked at you like he was in heaven and never had suffered through anything. The sunlight tinted the white sundress you had on, hugging your curves and complimenting your complex just perfectly.

"I brought you here because there's different about you and well, my love, I want...I want this til' death do us part," Joel nervously rubs your back, and another chill shudders through your body, skin prickling all over. Maybe it was just hearing Joel saying forever or another set of invisible eyes watching you getting proposed to.

You met his gaze and just drained from all color, seeing a little girl in the window just smiling at you. Joel watches your eyes flutter closed and you lose all strength in your body.

"Lovey, are you okay?" Joel holds up your weight in his arms, you shake your head to bring yourself back to reality. Your hands slide down his built arms and intertwine your hands in his. You stand on the balls of your feet to reach his lips. You melt in the taste of mint and coffee on his tongue.

"Til' death do us part," You whispered against his lips.

Husband and Wife. Just like that. When you got back in town, Joel surprised you again with a small party at Tommy and Maria's place with Ellie and Dina in tow. You were always awestruck when Joel would pull romantic gestures. Your heart soared even more when Ellie approached and hugged you and kissed you on the cheek.

"Congratulations, lovey." Ellie tried to sound happy, you could tell she meant it by her eyes screaming excitement even if she and Joel weren't on good terms.

"Thank you, Ellie." You squeezed her when you brought her hand in yours. Joel nodded and looked away not knowing if he should hug Ellie. Maybe it's okay because this a celebration of Joel and you tying the knot. Ellie drops your hand, stands in front of Joel, and quickly rushes in for a hug. Without thought, Joel wraps his arms around the girl and kisses the top of his head.

"Thanks, kiddo," Joel whispers to her. You move away from them, hoping they would have a moment to talk but that would be the last time they would ever talk.

You started to help Joel fix up the house, and that meant getting up just before sunrise and not getting back into town after sunset. Always travel there and back with Joel. Never by yourself.

"I'll be back a bit after noon, wait for me, lovey," Joel talks to you who was briefly awake to say bye to Joel. You groggily say bye and fall back asleep. He didn't know that you had a plan to take Ellie and Dina to see the progress going with the house.

When you woke up, it was a race to get out the door and meet Ellie and Dina before they got there. The sun was giving warmth to the earth, morning dew wetting your shoes when you walked through the overgrown grass. Chirping echoing from tree to tree, you loved how the air was crisped and filled up your lungs.

You stepped into the house and felt a sense of pride bloom in your chest. It was like the world never fell apart, and you and Joel bought a home to make your own. You walked into the kitchen turned the faucet on and saw actual water come through. You bit your lip and smiled at the thought of Joel being knowledgeable and how he still thinks like a contractor (his words).

Having a man who knows what he is doing brings you such security. You turned off the water and went to the back shed to gather the paint supplies to hopefully lure Ellie and Dina to work with you today. Painting was the thing to do in the home.

You hummed to yourself and heard a twig break from the woods. Your mind didn't set off an alarm, Joel always told you that this was safe. So that meant you were safe.

Right? He wouldn't let you be in a place that jeopardizes your safety. You quickly gathered the supplies and then went back into the house. Ellie and Dina were at the screen door talking about Jesse.

"Hi girls," You greeted them and opened the door. They quickly saw the paint buckets and rollers. Dina was more than happy to pick up a brush and start painting the living room. Ellie followed you around like a lost puppy when you poured the paint into the pan. You handed a roller and showed her how to properly paint like the way Joel taught you.

"He won't be here until later," You said casually to Ellie, the tension in her shoulders relax. You helped Ellie get into rhythm with her painting then you suggested putting on some music, no old country a request by Ellie. So you settled on some 50s and just listened to the jazz and classical mix together and created a dream state.

Later came sooner than expected, Joel slamming the screen door and stuttering to a close. You jumped and bumped into the record player. The music stopped and Joel's heavy breathing took over the silence. Joel looks at you and only at you, Dina grabs Ellie and they walk out the door quickly. No goodbyes. Just the thuds of their shoes.

Joel walks up to you and pushes you against the fresh eggshell paint. His breathing fanning your face, never seen him this angry since you first told him about the world you lived in before he picked his snow angel up from the ground 2 winters ago.

"What did I say this morning?" Joel asserts, you opened your mouth but he held up his hand.

"I said wait for me, lovey," Joel softens together, his tone, and his eyes and he stops grinding his teeth.

"I wanted to show the girls the house, and they helped us get a start on painting," You smile and him hoping to thaw his soft side more. Just so prettily, he nods and lays a kiss on your forehead.

"And you were late, it's the end of sunset," You smirked and nodded to the window, casting a deep orange through the windows, he shook his head and a breathy chuckle. You always had to be right. He was late because the patrol Tommy wanted to do, was a bit further out from the original trail.

"I'm sorry my love, what can I do to make up for it?" Joel leans his arm against the wet paint, you giggle and push him back from the wall. His hand grips your waist and pulls you into him. His hand-painted the clothes you had on.

"I think you owe me some Frank Sinatra and a dance," You were drunk in love with Joel, it was nice to be with someone who had experienced the world and who knew how to be romantic even if you had brought it out of him.

'Over and over, I keep going over the world we knew'

Joel pulls you in close, his one arm around your waist, and the other one with your hand in his. Swaying to the beat and when the violins harp and the trumpets blare he would spin you around each time, so effortlessly, feeling his body against yours. The broadness of his frame makes you feel small and so safe. You pressed into him and kissed his jawline while he kept you both swaying

'And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours'

You opened your eyes and could see the moon hovering in the sky and the sun was finally giving a wink before leaving the sky. It felt more right to be together in the moonlight. Joel was sweet talking to you in your ear, making you giggle and smile so much your cheeks started to strain. Joel spins you one last time and dips you back to plant a tender kiss on your lips.

You pull on the collar of his flannel and guide him to the ground. He hovers over you and cradles the back of your head in his hand. Joel tasting your skin, taking in your scent like this was the last time.

It would be the last time. The last time he would make love to his love. His wife. Joel thought if you got to the home by yourself then you can do it again. You did do it again, but a stray infected had found its way into the property.

You woke up early and made the plan to have Joel meet you there to work on the fencing while you stayed inside working on decorating with everything from Joel's home in Jackson. You didn't think to bring a gun with you since Joel said there hasn't been infected around in months.

You were trenching through the tall grass trying to make it to the house with snarling falling you. It was like you were running in slow motion through the dense prairie grass. Your mind racing with your feet and tripping, falling down and the infected following your motions.

Screams scaring the birds away from the trees, and squawking almost intimating your pained cries. You grab the knife stab the infected in the jugular and spray blood across your face. The limped fungus falls in the grass next to you.

The pain runs through your body, there was the mark of death with tendrils of Cordyceps etching over your veins. The birds echo again your cries, and you see a murder of crows flying away with your screams mimicked in their caws. You crawl to the steps of the porch and drag the pocket knife across your throat. You sputter out blood and it flows out your mouth like molasses and paints the white sundress you know that Joel loves.

The crows fly over the town, still cawing your screams. Ellie looks up and to see them flying away from the direction of the farmhouse. Her feet were picking up and going to find Joel, he was riding back into town. She was rambling about how you might be in trouble and tears running down her face. Joel was confused trying to catch what was flying out her mouth.

Ellie gets on her horse and Joel follows behind her. His heart sinks to his stomach, and his heart beats sweat running down his neck. The run-down grass leads right up to the scene. Joel hops off the horse before it stops. He is scrambling for balance.

Ellie gathers the horses and ties them to the tree, comes to see Joel on his achy knees holding you in his arms. Your skin is drained of color and cold to the touch. Eyes glazed over with a light film then dead infected a few feet away. The sun comes out from the cover of the clouds and shines right down you.

Ellie felt her blood run cold and dropped next to Joel, watching him put pressure on your neck like it would make you comeback. Her eyes danced across your body and saw the bite mark on your left arm. She doesn't say anything but sit in the hot sun. Joel rocks back and forth crying into your hair, smelling the strawberry soap you had used the night before.

'save who you can save'

Joel spent that night with your body prepared for burial. He stares at the table dressed in flowers surrounding your body, your hair brushed and curled with baby's breath pinned throughout your locks. You saw your body from the living room across from the dining room. Candles burning giving a romantic glow. Joel sits and pours another whiskey. If your dead heart could break again it would've when you watched the tears fall from his eyes.

You wander next to him, causing the candles to blow out and a cold breeze by him. The blue moonlight shines on your body, and he sits up straight and holds his breath for a second and you quickly light the candles again. You don't want to spook him but to show how you're here and not really gone. Joel sobs out again and rests his head on your cold and stiffened arm.

You gently a lay kiss on the top of his head, he shakes off the touch and buries his head into the flowers and just thinking about what he should've done. He should've gone with you, he should've built the damn fencing before even starting to work on the home. But he was too excited to start a life with you. Even have a baby with you.

Joel buried you under the tree and planted flowers around it to mark your grave delicately. He wouldn't dare enter the bedroom, the bed was made up and he could feel your presence when he would open the door and just stare at the smallest things. The lotion bottle that you bought from Cadence in Jackson, rose hip oil and shea butter always making you smell and feel heavenly. He swears it lingers in the air, almost suffocating his lungs.

Joel slams the door shut every time you saunter to him, taking how his eyes were always bloodshot, his beard was getting unkept which was not like him at all, his hair more grey than before. You want to make yourself known but he isn't ready yet.

You didn't want to overwhelm him and put him in an early grave. You watch him every day, not leave the house, barely eating, talking to himself about you then start speaking out loud about Ellie not knowing what to do with her. You continued to watch him suffer until you worked up the energy to open a book of poems that you had cherished when Joel gifted to you.

The book is laid open perfectly on the dining table, Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe. Joel woke that morning and thought he opened the book when he was in a drunken haze the night before. He sits down at the table with a glass of his morning whiskey (what he calls it).

'But our love it was stronger by far than the love'

The line was underlined in pencil which laid next to the book and your signature heart that you always added to your notes. That morning Joel poured out the whiskey bottle and settled for water.

You felt more energy as Joel began to accept your death. You kept up with the poems, Joel never denounced the dead lingering on the earth. He wanted you to be there physically and hold him while he would bury his face in the crook of your neck, tasting the shea butter on his lips when he would lay a sweet kiss right below your ear always earning a sigh from you and smile on your face.

Joel finally walks into the bedroom and sits on your side of the bed, swearing it was warm like you had been lying there waiting for him to come home. You were there, caressing his thigh like how you always done. He loved it, he basked in your phantom touch.

Joel flutters his eyes shut and moans out, he unzips his jeans and pulls down his underwear, and his hard cock springs out, resting heavily on his stomach. You reach and wrap your hand around him, stroking lightly Joel falls on the bed, letting memories of you and him in bed together.

He is falling into a dream state when you appear in front of him straddling your lap. You smile and just continue pleasuring him. Joel whimpers thinking his imagination is running wild. Having you in front of him, you fist his cock and feeling the warmth of his skin in your hand once again.

"Always been so good, lovey," Joel moans, gripping the comforter in his fists, sweat beading at his forehead and an ache in his stomach blossoming to his balls, pulling tight. Your hand moving up and down squeezing him a bit hard when he releases his seed, coating your hand and his lower stomach.

You bring your hand to your mouth, feeling how warm his cum is and the musk and salt hitting your tongue. You moan out, Joel breathes heavily and reaches out to touch your hand but you disappear in front of his eyes. Sleep taking over his eyes and shuts out the bright moonlight.

Joel sat with poems and read the new poem of the day well night now since Joel slept through the daylight, just absolutely heartbreaking.

'Remember your hands; how did your lips feel on mine?'- Love, Pablo Neruda.

The book slams shut and is thrown at the wall, knocking off your favorite painting of horses running in the scene. The candles blow out and the record player starts playing Frank Sinatra. You were trying your best to calm him down. You thought you were helping him to get over your death. Joel stands up, walks over to the record player, and moves tonearm off the record, but you quickly put it back on. The record scratches and continues the song.

"Lovey, it's so sweet but I can't," Joel speaks out in the open, you wanted to show yourself but again he isn't ready.

But when will he ever be ready? When he's dead?

You bowed your head and just watched him leave the house. This is the first time in months, he's been off the grid from everyone since the day of your burial. He thought he could wander back to the old farmhouse and die there too. Every day hoping death will come. He lost you and lost Ellie. Abandonment took over that night.

Joel would spend the rest of his days back in Jackson. Keeping an eye on Ellie until his dying breath. The last sight he would see with Ellie with blood flowing through her nose and her pleas falling on deaf ears.

When the world goes dark and cold, the fade-in is just so warm and bright. He is back at the farmhouse, you on the porch swing with the book in your lap wearing the white sundress he had you buried in. He walks through the prairie grass with the sage green button-up and clean pair of dark wash jeans. You shut the book and could see that he was in the best health ever.

"Joel!" You scream out maybe this isn't real and this is all a bad dream. This is life and you two have a happy ending.

"I'm here lovey," Joel wasn't crying, he was perfect. Like God just stitched him up in a few places. He sees you. He's here with you...finally. You run to him and he picks you up without the grunt he always makes. Heaven is a place on earth. With Joel and the farmhouse.

Can the dead mourn the dead?

You smile and bask in his touch and feeling him in this other side of life. The little girl that was in the house before still peeks around the corner to watch you and Joel find each other once again.

"Joel, I'm sorry," You started to cry. You have never cried before. The wet tears stream down from your cheeks to your neck, Joel brushes his finger through your hair, looking how beautiful you looked, just a bit more perfect.

"I'm home forever," He smiles and seals the words with a kiss. Death do us part isn't true when he's back with you in the ground. Joel looks at the house and sees the young girl, and his eyes grow wide when he sees that it was his first love, Sarah waiting for him to notice her.

You smile a nod to him, the young girl introduced herself to you when you first showed up the house that first night after your death.

Joel bends down to her height and brings her to his arms, smelling her scent again. That scent he would've moved mountains before. Familiarity comforting him even after death.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou

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compacflt · 6 months

Note

hey! i was just going through your blog, and i saw a post about ice&carole and mav&goose. i looked a bit more but i couldn't find a post about your take on mav and goose's relationship, so i wanted to ask what it was. if you have answered this, i'm sorry about asking you again. imo i think what they had was wayy deeper than friendship but complex and probably not romantic, but again, i just wanted to know your thoughts on it.

thank you! and this blog has probably been one of the best finds i have ever come across on tumblr, i'll be sad to see you go.

yeah, i was really trying to be suave and subtle and mysterious about it with this parallel

like, you should be able to figure it out for yourself.

but luckily for you i looooove beating dead horses. to a problematic degree.

the full story of my vision of mavgoose (moose?) is in the completed draft of the extras that are coming out on Saturday. about halfway through. But i want to bring it back to the internal craft-of-writing debate i brought up yesterday—my inability to summarize, or to cut superfluous sections that don’t really matter.

I’ll stick it under the cut for spoiler reasons, but i wanna show the simple first draft of this scene versus the complicated, heavier final draft. And I want to ask any of you, if you’re interested—as a reader, which is more impactful? which should i end up publishing?

the simple first draft:

then i kept turning it in my head thinking of different ways to edit it to say something slightly different, to get a little more specific, coming up with things to add, and ended up adding like five extra paragraphs. which is this:

about 1/4 of the final draft (by which i mean, this is about 1/4 of the whole final discussion scene, but the goosemav-specific content only goes on for about another graf [omitted bc spoilers]):

(so to answer your ask explicitly, i actually don’t think they were anything deeper than good friends. imo there’s no evidence that they were anything deeper than good friends, especially with maverick blowing goose/goose’s wishes off soooo many times [‘she’s lost that lovin feelin;’ volleyball; refusing to do the responsible thing at least twice even after goose tells him it puts his & his family’s livelihoods at risk…bro all he does is blow off goose]. see me bitching in the tags for more on this)

obviously in my head the complicated in-depth version ⬆️ is the True version, the version of events that really Happened. i think the writing is in some spots much more compelling. But it just doesn’t make for a particularly good reading experience when it’s surrounded by like 3/4 pages of other discussion of history! sometimes too much of (what i think is) a good thing turns that good thing bad! & this is a major keystone dynamic of my whole series so i just want to get it right, for my own peace of mind. I guess im asking you to be the harsh editor i wish i had sometimes, if ur interested in doing so—this is genuinely a major major problem i have with my writing, i can’t ever just leave well enough alone 😭 please let me know if simpler is better/less is more in this case! do i publish the short vague “the reader fills in the blanks” version or the long boring “here’s EXACTLY how i see it” version?

#crowd sourcing beta readers. let me know.#also.#how many times do i have to say maverick is neither a good person nor a good friend #and the writers of TGM hugely whitewashed and dulled down the original sharpness and thoughtlessness of his character #for the sake of post-50s tom cruise mary-sueifying him #before it sticks?#if it helps you can write out a list of his actions in the original movie.#for instance: > blows off goose to be late to dinner with Charlie anyway #> follows her into the women’s restroom > continues a pattern of dangerous behavior even after #Goose his supposed best friend tells him multiple times it is threatening their jobs #the truck master scene… the locker room scene… the ‘can’t afford to blow this scene’#and then he does it a FOURTH TIME AND KILLS GOOSE HELLO!!!!!#so much for being a good friend like c’mon!!!#if he REALLY respected goose he would have SHOWN HIS RESPECT FOR GOOSE!!!#i am leaving this blog so out come the hot takes!#movies are also woobifying tom cruise lately! how’s that for a hot take #i genuinely felt insulted by TGM’s sexless passionless soft bokeh-light KIND OF half-sex with Penny. that was insulting.#what happened to the savage bitter kid in 1986 top gun? why is he so soft and toothless?#the only time we see him is in the ‘it’s not the plane it’s the pilot’ ‘EXACTLY’ exchange. THATS maverick.#sorry you know me. TGM is not my favorite. i am extremely cynical about it.#i love the IP but the writing choices in the 2nd movie wrt mav especially make me…. 😵‍💫😵‍💫#pete maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #mavgoose #you can ignore me bitching but pls don’t ignore my begging for secondary opinions here

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blubushie · 2 months

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Is there a reason you're so open about your sex life?

Yeah actually. I've had a lot of shit happen to me in my life.

The first person I ever had a crush on was another boy, and my best mate. We'll call him Nate. I knew I liked boys before I knew I liked girls, cuz up until I was 12 I'd never really spent time with girls at all—I didn't even know any girls my age—but I did have Nate. I met him when I was 10, and he taught me to ride horses and work stock. So growing up that was one helluva secret to hold. And he knew that I liked boys, and he jokingly called me a faggot and a queer and we laughed about it. And when other kids would hang shit on me at school, he didn't. In private, sure, with love. But in public, he stuck up for me. Cuz I was one of the Good Ones™, and his friend.

When I was 12 I was abused by a man in his 40s. And I heavily repressed my feelings towards other boys because I figured that that was the path it led down. "Gays are paedophiles. Queers wanna touch kids. They're dangerous." And I figured that if I just ignored it, I'd never end up a monster like he was. And when I told Nate about this, he said the same thing. "They're all like that. They're dangerous. You need to be careful or people will think you'll do the same. And I know you won't, cuz you're one of the Good Ones™. But you have to be careful." Nate was the first and only person I told about my abuse until it went public. He kept my secret for 3 years. He held me and I cried.

Nate was the last man outside of family who's held me. I haven't been held by another man since I was 12. I haven't been hugged by another man outside my family since I was 15.

At 14, I met another kid we'll call Lake. He was fun, and cheerful, and bubbly. And he was also gay. Very very openly gay. The feminine kinda gay. Talks like a girl kinda gay. Not my type, but I admired him. And I envied his bravery in being so out and not caring about what people thought of him.

Or the risk.

At 15, Nate got me drunk. We'd been working calves all day on the local station where his parents lived as hired hands. He snuck a slab from his parents' outshed on the station and we took our horses out and sat in the shade of a gum and drank. I'd never had alcohol before except at Mass, and I got pretty tipsy. And the sun was setting and it struck these orange streaks through his hair, and reflected real pretty off those eyes, and I decided he was very very handsome in that moment and in drunk brain, I should kiss him. So I leant over and pecked his cheek.

He went off on me.

It turns out that it's ok to be gay, as long as you're gay for the right people. And the right people is anyone who isn't the person you're talking to. Cuz he turned to me and I saw a rage in his eyes that I knew meant whatever kinda friendship we'd formed over 5 years, it was dead in the water the moment I kissed him. He looked at me the same way he looked at all the other queers, same way he looked at Lake, with that "I don't mind gays but I wish they'd be a little quieter about it" face. And then he slogged me.

We scrapped. And at first I thought he was just being an idiot, cuz I was 15 and he was 17 and we were both teenage boys and we biffed sometimes. But after a few seconds he got on top of me and stopped pulling his punches, and I was trying to tell him to stop and that I was sorry and he didn't. He kept hitting me. And he called me a faggot, and a queer, and a freak, and that there was something wrong with me and he had to beat the faggotry outta me cuz I had a skull too thick for my own good and if he didn't teach me a lesson now I'd do it again and the next bloke might just kill me for it.

He gave me a good slog to the side of the head and rung my bell real good, and then he kicked me in the stomach and got on his horse and rode back to the station. I laid there maybe ten minutes trying to breathe through all the blood in my nose and making sure he didn't knock any teeth out. That was the first time I really genuinely got a bashing.

I never talked to him again. I saw him once on station, and tried to talk to him and apologise, but he just walked away. I stopped visiting the station after that.

I made friends with Lake. We both went to Catholic school, so he got picked on a lot for being gay. But he never let it get him down. And I started standing up for him when I saw kids treat him like shit. Because he was my friend, and he was one of the Good Ones™. But deep down I envied him. I wanted to be him. I wanted to be able to walk with my chin high and strut like a fucken peacock knowing I'm hot shit and that nobody could touch me. But internalised homophobia is a hell of a thing, and deep down I also knew I'd never be like him. Because my issue isn't just me being attracted to men, but also being intersex and a dozen other different little things. But to Lake, that didn't matter. To Lake I was cut of the same cloth. We were confidants.

Eventually with time I realised that there's no such thing as "one of the Good Ones™." Being attracted to someone the same sex or gender as you isn't a fault. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. But I still hid it. I wasn't brave enough to be open about it, I was scared of judgement, I was scared of punishment for something I couldn't control, so I kept it a secret.

The third person I told was my girlfriend. She took it in stride. I thought she was afraid that I'd made her my beard when I was definitely attracted to her too, but she was actually the one who explained bisexuality to me. And everything clicked. But she was also aware that I was squashing down my attraction to men because I was afraid, so she made me watch Brokeback Mountain, and that's actually how I ended up genuinely coming to terms with my sexuality. I didn't want to be so afraid of loving that I'd never loved at all.

I never acted on my attraction, cuz I'm a loyal bastard, but when she and I split I stopped trying to hide what I am. I am a man who happens to be attracted to men. I am also attracted to women. And that's ok. That's not something to be ashamed of, it's not something I need to hide, it's not something I have to keep secret.

I'll never be the loudly out gay man. I'll never be the loudly out bisexual. I don't wear pride pins, I don't flaunt my sexuality, I don't wear rainbows. If anyone looked at me they wouldn't assume I like men, let alone immediately know.

I'll never be like Lake. But I don't have to be like Lake. I just have to be me. And through talking about my experiences, maybe some other young man who's in the same shoes I used to be in will look at me and realise that all he has to be is himself. And if that man likes men, then so be it.

#blu whos #bisexual #gay #mlm #tw homophobia #tw csa

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child-of-of-the-sunshine · 1 month

Text

The Dutton Twins

Chapter 2 (This has a time to the end of season 1 beginning of season 2)

I was in the bunkhouse with the boys when the door swung open, I looked up from where I was watching Ryan play poker and saw Kayce entering the bunkhouse “Got an empty bunk?” Kayce asked “Top one in the back.” One of the guys said, I watched my brother before getting up and kissing Ryan’s cheek “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” I said before walking out of the bunkhouse and back to the house, I went up to my room and sat in my window, “Thought you would be down partying with your boyfriend.” Beth said walking and sitting on my bed “Got that wrong.” I laughed leaning my head against the wall “Ryan hurt you?” She questioned me “Fuck no, Ryan would be dead. Three times over.” I laughed smiling “So why you up here, your rarely up here anymore.” She said “Kayce’s down and I still haven’t forgiven him for leaving me.” I said adjusting myself “You two always had your way when ever you two fought. It was either hugging or yelling at each other and I hate to see my little sister be mad at her best friend.” Beth said getting up, I watched her walk out of my room and shut the door. I got up and went back down to the bunk house, when I opened the door everyone looked at me. I walked over to my brothers bunk “Get the fuck up.” I said flicking him “The fuck Bailey?” He questioned confused but getting up “Leave your fucking hat.” I said walking out of the bunkhouse, when Kayce finally came out I punched him the arm “The fuck Bailey?” He asked grabbing his arm “That’s for fucking breaking a damn promise!” I yelled coming back at him, I was ready to beat the shit out of my brother. But he grabbed both my wrists “Bailey the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked me “You left me twice.” I cried, trying to get out of his grip “Twice?” He questioned me “Once when you got her pregnant, the next time when you fucking shot Lees killer.” I spoke, still trying to get away from him “So fuck you Kayce John Dutton.” I said finally getting out of his grip, I went to punch him again but he pulled me in a hug “Kayce let me go.” I screamed struggling against him “Bailey.” He said softly once I stopped fighting him “Look I’m sorry for breaking that promise we made. Dad wanted me to do something I wasn’t going to do that to Monica or our kid.” He spoke, I had no idea what he meant but I nodded my “Let’s get you back to the house.” He said, I nodded my head, both of us walked back to the main house, he took me back up to my room and waited for me to fall asleep

Third Person

When Kayce got back everyone was looking at him they all heard Bailey yelling at him, Kayce just walked back to his bunk and went to sleep “What was that about?” Colby asked, “Those two have always had some sort of fight, nothing a little hugging won't fix.” Lloyd said, Ryan got up, but Lloyd didn’t know was going to happen and he didn’t want to know “Ryan sit back down.” Lloyd said, Ryan sat back down but was done playing cards, he was more worried about what he heard outside, the next morning Bailey was down by the barn or near anything “John where’s Bailey she normally jumping when I’m here.” Travis said “Hell if I know.” John laughed “And she normally takes your Goddamn money.” John laughed shaking his head, when Bailey got up she ran down to the barn where everyone, she saw Ryan already had her horse saddled “What were you going to do if I didn’t come down?” She asked looking at him “I was just hoping you would.” Ryan said kissing her cheek “That’s a new one.” Travis said noticing it “Not really.” John laughed, Bailey rode over to Travis and her dad “When did you become old enough to have a boyfriend?” Travis questioned her “When I found someone that could handle a damn barrel racer.” She laughed, Travis shook head laughing “I’ve seen some of the men you date Bailey.” Travis laughed “The men I’ve dated mostly only cared about one thing Travis.” She said holding up a finger “And most of them only last two months.” Travis spoke “One almost made it to a year.” She laughed “Then he met me.” Travis laughed

Most people didn’t know why Travis and Bailey were close, but John did, it was because Bailey spent two summers on the road with Travis showing horses, he was also the one of the people that was protective over her outside of him or her siblings, so he was used to all this banter, hell she went to college down in Texas and he became some sorta of surgoet brother to her through the year, hell she might be closer to Travis then she was Lee

Ryan was watching the whole thing and had his jaw clenched “Don’t worry they're more like siblings.” Lloyd spoke seeing Ryan “they seem way closer than that.” Ryan spoke “Travis has been there through everything for her, somethings her dad don’t know.” Lloyd said before riding off “Your boyfriend has been eyeing us.” Travis spoke he had noticed Ryan watching them “You should probably tell him why we are so close.” Travis spoke, “I don’t if I’m ready to open that damn can worm again.” She spoke looking at Travis “It’s not a good can of worms but it’s probably the damn reason why we got so close.” Travis smiled at her “Yeah, hell I never thought I would be able to cowgirl again.” She spoke “Scary fucking day.” Travis said, “Hey, I say this a lot but thanks.” She said before heading towards her boyfriend, Travis watched her ride off with a smile “Hey Travis, thanks for being there for her.” John said smiling at him.

She and Ryan rode next to each other “Sure Travis bring a horse, help us round up some cows.” Travis said, “Travis we’ve done enough horse-trading.” John laughed, soon they got the cattle back and were sorting them, after Ryan caught Bailey as she was putting up her horse “So what’s going on between you and Travis?” Ryan questioned, “Ryan, that's a really big can of worms.” She spoke closing her horse away “Then tell me.” He said softly “Let’s go I ain’t telling you in the damn barn.” She spoke, Ryan followed her to one of the fields near the main house “Okay tell me.” He said “It was a couple years before I came back here, I was rodeoing out in Fort Worth. When my horse at the time got spooked by something, I tried my damn hardest to stay on her but she started bucking and I fell in the dirt. Getting knocked out.” She spoke sighing, getting ready to go through with the next part “Travis one of the first people I saw when I woke in the damn hospital room, told me I was lucky, but my chances of being able to cowgirl again were 50/50, being able to rope again saddle a damn horse myself, I broke my collar bone in two places, took me a damn year to be fucking able to saddle a damn horse again. But Travis was there the whole fucking time I was showing Horse while recovering. We became pretty damn close during that whole year then I packed up, my trailer came back up here to help, and became a livestock agent.” She said looking at him “That still doesn't explain shit.” Ryan said shaking his head “Ryan I wasn’t going to be any fucking help here with only one good arm, can’t fucking saddle my damn horse. I was better at helping show than anything else.” She said she got up “Nothing happened between you and Travis ever?” Ryan questioned, “God fuck no, he’s a fucking brother to me.” She said before walking away “Bailey, I’m sorry for thinking anything else about you two.” He said running after her and grabbing her arm “Ryan, I don’t know why you would think anything different than what it looked like.” She spoke shaking her head “Because it fucking looked different you two laughing about god knows what.” Ryan spoke, “He was surprised I had a damn boyfriend.” She laughed, shaking her head “Why?” Ryan questioned her “Because most of the guys I date are completely dicks, and can’t fucking handle a barrel racer.” She laughed turning back around “Look I didn’t mean for this to be a fight.” Ryan said, “Well you did by fucking questioning me.” She spoke, and Ryan walked after her “I’m sorry I have no right to question who you are friends with.” Ryan spoke it made Bailey turn around with a look of shock “What I don’t.” He said walking up to her “You should be questioning my taste in men before you.” She laughed shaking her head “You ever thought of going back?” He questioned her “Sometimes I loved doing it. I loved showing horses too.” She said looking up at him “I would love to see you do it.” Ryan smiled at her, she grabbed his hand and led him to the house “Where are you taking me?” He questioned, “You said you wanted to see me do what I love.” She spoke,

The next morning Ryan and Bailey were still in her bed “Shit.” She mumbled she didn’t realize she and Ryan had fallen asleep last night watching some of her old rodeo videos “Ryan wake up.” She said hitting him with a pillow “Ow the fuck.” He mumbled “We fell asleep.” She said looking at him “Shit.” Ryan said sitting up, Bailey got ready and Ryan ran down to the bunkhouse to get ready himself, Bailey came downstairs and saw her sister smirking “What?” She questioned “I just saw Ryan running out of here.” She giggled “Sis this aint no walk of shame.” She laughed shrugging on her flannel and grabbing her hat by the door, Bailey walked down and stood next to Ryan “I got so much shit this morning .” Ryan laughed putting his arm around her “Don’t worry baby my sister will give you more shit, since she saw you running out the house this morning.” She laughed, the cowboys were giving Jimmy shit “Jimmy don’t worry this is the best part.” Bailey laughed shaking her head, just as she turned around she saw her dad cappoles on the ground “DAD!” She screamed, she tried running but Ryan pulled her back “Bailey you don’t need to this.” Ryan said bring her head into his chest, Bailey tried to fight against him “Bailey stop.” Ryan whispered into her ear, anyone who wasn’t in the vet trailer was witnessing, what was happening outside, Ryan sat in the dirt leaning against the mental fence, he held Bailey and let her cry it out “It’s okay Bailey.” He whispered “We will follow the chopper to the hospital.” He said soothing down her hair, Ryan looked up and saw kayce “Meet us there Ryan.” He yelled before getting in the chopper “Come on Bailey.” Ryan said, Bailey looked up and her mascara was running down her face “Ryan take her to the hospital to meet the chopper.” Rip said, Ryan nodded both Bailey and Ryan got up, Avery walked over and handed Bailey a package of makeup wipes. The drive to the hospital Bailey was quiet she was wiping off her face with the make up wipes Avery handed her “Nice having a female in the bunkhouse.” Bailey laughed “You do know-?” Ryan was cut off by Bailey “Yeah I know.” Bailey said looking at Ryan “She keeps you guys honest.” Bailey laughed “Oh you already made me an honest man.” Ryan spoke reaching over and grabbing her hand “Tamed a wild cowboy.” She laughed shaking her head, they pulled up to the hospital and met Kayce outside “Kayce what going on with dad?” Bailey questioned “Had an ulcer and apparently it ruptured, but apparently he also had cancer.” Kayce said looking at his little sister “I’m sorry what?” Bailey questioned “How could not tell either of you?” Ryan questioned “I mean you two as of right now seem to inherit it all.” Ryan spoke looking between the two siblings “You might be right.” Kayce spoke looking at the hand “Can I see him?” Bailey questioned “Bailey knowing you will go off if you see him lets wait until he’s home.” Kayce said setting a hand on her shoulder “I’ll see yall back at the ranch.” Kayce spoke

Kayce watched as the couple left and walked back out the door, he liked Ryan he saw how he treated his little sister, oh was Kayce going to have that talk with Ryan. But was Kayce in that position to give that talk to him.

Taglist: @bellarkeselection @kitty-marie725 @hcwthewestwaswcn

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #john dutton #ryan yellowstone #beth dutton #rewrite

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itsdappleagain · 1 year

Text

ALRIGHT EVERYBODY LETS GET GUSSIED UP FOR THE LUCKY CAT CAPER!!!!

this is SUCH a solid episode. i love this one as well- the outfits, the slapstick, the action. all really good!! alrighty

today's post title pictures are some of my own, from my trip to san fran a few years back!! I'll share some of my favs- I visited or photographed every major caper location on the trip!!

there's me in chinatown, the golden gate bridge, alcatrez, fisherman's wharf and the pier, and good old karl himself!

alrighty- enough pictures. sorry for the long intro! notes under the cut as always :)

YEAHHH THE FLASHBACK TO CARMEN'S FINAL,,, YEAH. i forgot the episode opened like this tbh. i know everyone and their mother has ALSO pointed out that this scene is bathed in red light so i will AGAIN not beat a dead horse but just yes. color theory <3

i love the tiny little oh shit moment on shadowsan's face. like he hadnt quite realized how good she was

GOD THIS GETS SO BRUTAL he's pawing her around like a cat with a pompom

YEAH THE WAY SHE JUST GETS. DESPERATE AS THE FIGHT GOES

her waking up from the nightmare with that culmination of stress. the timer going off correlating with the phone. still being half in the dream when she talks to player and then realizing when he starts talking to her...

this is such a human moment for carmen i love it so so much. she's failed. she is tired, having nightmares, maybe has a headache. she's making mistakes and she's a little bit out of it, she's stiff from sleeping....she's a PERSON and i LOVE IT SO MUCH

or in much less eloquent terms SLEEBY CARMEN <3333

i love the setup for next episode here. its not overbearing; it doesnt feel like a setup episode but it IS and it hints at shadowsan's true motives almost right off the bat

the sigh and "i don't know" is weirdly smooth animation i love it

that pickpocket is soo smooottthh

also i have to know what carmen was doing in san francisco the night before that a. gave her a headache when she woke up and b. made her so tired that she just dropped her pants on the floor and passed out. because it seems to me like carmen sandiego got drunk and had a great time last night.

also. she has just woken up and is picking an outfit for a NIGHTTIME CHARITY GALA. SHE SLEPT IN SO LATE HEHHSHAHJ their sleep schedules are all so bad

carmen looks great in that shot where she opens the curtains sorry not sorry

carmen's hotel is just outside the transamerica pyramid!

in fact it is quite reasonable to assume that she was staying at the hilton. i have solved the mystery that no one asked me to solve

karl <333

cable cars weren't running when i visited sf </3 i was heartbroken

FREE KARL

i dont know look at her reflection

carmens feet are shaped like shoes and i dont know how to feel about that. why is her heel a heel

this dress was the most spectacular thing they ever put her in and the amount of time she wore it was criminally short

they also should have put her in a white dress shirt more often??? hello??? i see it in the closet??? put her in a fucking suit once in a while....that waitress getup in tsonts was THE SHIT

SHE LOOKS STUNNIIINGGGGGGG IN THAT DRESS

i also love that she's thinking about zack for the car, then player for the stamp. her writing is so good this episode...at the start at least

ten million cents, she chuckles, as if the stamp wouldn't still be worth a hundred thousand dollars

i love how casually she is willing to spend 10 million VILEBucks

i love how they call her the generous lady in red too- like they arent expecting this room to be able to afford a ten million dollar stamp and BID on it

L O O K AT THAT DRESS GOD ITS SO GOOD. THE STRAPLESS THE CHOKER THE ELBOW GLOVES THE CLUTCH PURSE AUGHHH ITS SO GOOD I NEED TO SEE IT MORE

THE CONNECTOR IN THE BACK? THE FANCY COMM EARRINGS? CHEFS KISS

chase and carmen had the exact same smirk when they saw the other in the fog i know it

i love their dynamic actually they are so funny together. egypt in season 4 highlights it so well but also. like here. the teasing the banter chase taking everything way too seriously in comparison to carmen treating him like a joke

its close to the cigarette aesthetic, to be honest, and it does not cause lung cancer. so this tiny flashlight i salute you for being hot

CHASE AND JUST TRYING TO GRAB HER DSJHKJWGD

THE SHOE IS SO FUCKING FUNNY AJHKJDFH IT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME LAUGH

poor carmen running around barefoot in the fog now

juliump scare

they stick those where in the world/where on earth references in there every opportunity they can with chase <3

julia is so short wheeze

MIP MIP MIP

that is for sure a bun i am not sure how mime bomb's beret made that shape

this episode is just chase getting jumpscared

he shoes mb away like a stray cat wheeze

the signed/mimed description of carmen is so on point i love mime bomb

go shadowsan go. send tigress <333 i love that he knows carmen so well even now that he knows she would enjoy one-upping tigress on this again

the "betrayed us and took a new name" thing from brunt is. carmen is transgender and brunt is the phobic about it i dont know it reads heavily okay

maelstrom and his democracy

FINE FINE SEND WHOMEVER

brunt has the cleaners on telepathic speed dial damn

the absolute muscles of steel mime bomb must have to sit in midair like that holy fuck

vile's lucky cat. meow. cat girl hand

carmen trying to watch subtly and stay hidden. girlie those are your opposite of strongsuits. weaksuits

mime bomb moves so cartoonishly and i love that. yes this is a cartoon. but. he is more of a cartoon

the music timing with carmen's face as she realizes its a shop FULL of lucky cats is so good

ILL TAKE THE TCHOTCHKE

carmen needs to stop saying "or what? you'll (insert bad thing here)" because the person she's saying that too ALWAYS says "yes exactly that"

luck cat store owner voiced by julia's va beloved. deserved better. glad she got cash in the end even if carmen was an aloof little prick about it and didn't even apologize

WE HAVE OTHERS YOU KNOW im so sorry lucky cat shop lady you deserved better

bait and switch

"keep the change" okay you still destroyed a shitload of her beautiful statues and didn't even help her clean it up. didn't apologize or. look at her. but fine

mime bomb. thats it thats the post

see the comical shifty look around is so fucking funnyyy

MIME BOMB COULD NOT BE MORE SUSPICIOUS IF HE TRIED HE'S SO FUNNY

the running in place gag never gets old

HFDJSFGDS

carmen just being half surprised and half impressed that they arrested mime bomb. yeah

also her just standing blatantly on the rooftop and NO ONE notices her wheeze

JULIA LISTING OFF ALL OF HIS MISHAPS IS SO FUNNY

the graffiti just being giant x's and o's dhfjdasg

mime bomb. is skrunkly

chase thats how you get sued you have to list the miranda rights in murica

julia <333 yes. yes yes yes

i gotta know what mime bomb was signing that made chase interpret "an elephant giving you a pedicure while spreading cheese on a baguette on Bastille day"

julia immediately giving a perfect translation. they are so funny

the expressiveness of chase and mime bomb combined makes for some GOLDEN freeze frames

julia shielding her mouth the wrong way. good job girlie. you tried. he can still see everything youre saying though

chase's neck disconnects from his head!

considering chase and julia never showed any form of identification mime bomb could hypothetically press charges for kidnapping

MIME BOMB OFFERING THE FLOWER AND THEN CHUCKING IT WHEN TIGRESS GETS ANNOYED WITH HIM IS JUST. HIS ANIMATION AND CHARACTER ACTING ARE SO GOOD

all of 26 cents buys mime bomb out

i like julia's little lean on the wharf railing. she's usually just sitting or standing up straight its cool to see her do something

this chase scene is so goood

btw unrelated but this girl is my favorite background extra?? they use her in a TON of bg scenes so. pointing her out to you so that you will notice her forever in other scenes

poor chase. his poor coat. his voice is screaming I LOVED THAT COAT from the future

hehheshgdh carmen is so frustrated that it happened AGAIN with tigress and the stupid thing in the pocket wheeze

HES SO HEARTBROKENKDJSDGFDSG

THE LAMP POST TRANSITIONS BETWEEN EVERYONE RUNNING ARE MY FAAAVORITE I LOVE THOSE

SHE JUST DUMPS THAT GUY OUT OF THE CAR LMAOO

zack using a lil racing metaphor!!! because!! yeah!!!!

this chase scene is so fucking good with all the cars GOD the music and driving through san francisco and everything AUGH

what if the car had just hit chase and he went flying

THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I AM NOT INVITING YOU ALONG! I CANNOT BE SLOWED DOWN BY "CAUTION WORDS"

chase is so funny he really sets himself up to fail

i feel bad for julia in this one though. you can see the buildup to next episode when she finally yells at him. shes fucking tired of this shit and yes she should be

carmen is your mom when you go 5 miles above the speed limit

she's one to talk, obviously, seeing as one of the first things she ever did in zack and ivy's presence was run a red light, almost cause an accident, and then fly into an open construction pit, ruining the car she stole from them

the concern in carmen's voice as she attempts to get zack to not crash into a building in an attempt to go up the wall

PLS CARMEN JUST GOES FLYING WHEN THEY GO OVER THOSE HILLS

the little sideyes the other two faculty give when shadowsan and brunt are squabbling shdshgfsdgh

i got to bike across the golden gate bridge it was super cool

THE WOMAN BEAMS HERSELF FROM A FOUNTAIN PEN, SHE CAN DO ANYTHING. well its some kind of respect women juice. maybe not the right kind though

the terror in julia's tone after watching chase not look at the road for a solid minute

annnnd there he goes

julia being done with his shit is so funny i love her

go sheena. scaling the whole ass bridge with her fingertips alone

carmen again sacrificing politeness and basic human decency for a quip </3 oh well

i love that cs color theory post thats like. the golden gate bridge is the epicenter of carmen's power and tigress was a fool for challenging her there

wow look its carmen becoming distracted and disadvantaged by valuable objects people throw at her again

not sheena showing carmen where she put the stamp too. nice job tigress

this showdown is pretty cool

carmen is SO efficient about it she just slides and boom its over. AND she steals the phone

she does look pretty awesome holding the stamp with two fingers though. god

STEALING THE PHONE WAS SUCH A POWER MOVE I LOVE THAT

plus she outed him in front off the whole faculty which is only funny if you dont know what happens next lmaoo

stamp of approval. laugh

tigress just sadly sitting there is also very funny

AND JULIA DRAGGING CHASE OUT OF THE WATERNDSDV

HERE WE GO TRANSITION SENTENCEEE

GO GET HIM!!!!!

WOW i can't believe this Saturday is already going to be the season finale. I LOVE the french connections caper so I am VERY excited for the next episode!! hopefully I won't get so far behind this time. to be fair I was doing state testing and presentations and shit but hopefully the worst of that is over.

alrighty- until next time for the chase dies and then carmen dies caper!!

#csweekly #cs weekly #carmen sandiego

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thatmomwitchfriend · 1 year

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Just Shelly

Buildings Burn, People Die; But, Love Is Forever

That fateful night, you know the one, Shelley manages to escape with her life. Barely. But, the love of her life, the man she was to marry the very next day, didn't get so lucky.

TW: grief, death, loss of a partner, heavy hints toward necro, disrespect of hallowed ground, smoking, hints of non-con

CHANGES FROM THE ORIGINAL SOURCE MATERIAL, THIS IS A REIMAGINING!!!

word count: 3,962

When Shelley heard the pounding at the door, her heart jumped. She knew it couldn’t be Eric. Not this early. He had gone out to the bar with the boys, his ‘last hurrah’ as the group had called it (much to Eric’s bemusement). She stepped onto the hardwood floor of their apartment, a chill running the length of her spine from the temperature in the air. The pounding came again, more urgent this time. “All right! Hold your horses!” She shouted, rolling her eyes. She knew the door was locked, chained and dead bolted. She had nothing to worry about if it was Eric. She hoped it was. GOD, she hoped it was. She had heard the sirens going all night so far, racing up and down the streets. Chasing hoodlums across the city and back. What else did she expect, living in the city center of Detroit this close to Halloween? “Who’s there?” She called out, damning the shake in her voice.

Silence.

Her cold hands scrambled for the gun that Eric kept in the drawer of the small table in their entrance hall. “I’m armed!” She called out, “don’t even think about breaking in here!” A beat went by where there was nothing from the outside hall again. Then, there it was. She listened as hard as she possibly could. Was that….a giggle? Her hands fell to her sides heavily, relief washing over. “Eric, I almost shot you!” She yelled, placing the gun back in it’s place before undoing the locks and throwing the door wide. In an instant, she was swept up in his arms, a kiss being placed to her jaw gently.

“I’m sorry, love. I had to. A little spook to keep you on your toes before we’re married.” He muttered against her skin. “Can’t get too comfortable in this neighborhood, can we?” Not a moment together after he got home, and there was already someone else pounding on their door. “Who the absolute fuck?” He all but growled. She LOVED that, shivering with the idea of what he had been thinking about before the knock had sounded through the space. “I’ll get it.” He turned back to face the door just as it was viciously kicked open from the hall. A shriek left Shelley, ducking for cover from flying pieces of their door frame. The gang of men that rushed through the door were unkempt, reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and looked like they had been dragged through a puddle of mud on their way there.

“What do you want?” Eric reached for the gun as the men advanced, eyes hungry and dark as they spotted Shelley cowering behind him. Nasty smirks spread across their faces as they saw their own scenarios playing out, whatever vile it was they had in their minds when they saw a woman they knew they could never touch otherwise. A sharp spit from Shelley at the groups feet seemed to jerk them out of their haze, mouths twisting into harsh grimaces.

“Oh, nothing. Just coming in to check the condition of housing in our fair city, what do you think boys?” Their leader, the pair assumed, started shouting as he strolled around their home. He began tearing things off the walls, kicking the legs off antique furniture they had picked together, ripping holes in the curtains on their windows and drapes on their walls.

“No!” Shelley gasped out, tears streaming down her face more with each act of destruction. “Oh, you don’t want us to fix this cheap shit?” FunBoy turned to look at her from the corner of his eye, a sneer painting his face. “Shut her up, TinTin.”

“Don’t touch her!” Eric roared, charging to fill the space between his fiancée and the men still in the door. TinTin faltered, eyes on the gun in Eric’s hand. But, he was soon spurred by a sharp whistle leaving the mouth of FunBoy. That whistle seemed all he needed to gain his confidence back, striking Eric across the face with a resounding crack, dropping him to the floor in an instant. A scream tore from Shelley’s gut as she tried reaching for Eric’s prone form on the floor in front of her. She barely made it to his feet before she was ripped up by her hair, head jerking back as she was dragged over to the bed and tossed down onto her back.

The next few hours were Hell for Shelley. These disgusting men each had their go with her, twisting her around to their liking, sometimes even so much that she cried out in pain. That didn’t really change anything, all it got her was a crack across the face, leaving a stinging red mark that burned when her tears tracked across each new one. Eric hadn’t moved from his spot yet, not that they gave him the chance. Every time he so much as groaned, he was kicked with the thick heel of a boot, or rammed with the butt of a gun so hard that he passed right back out. This went on for hours, until they were well spent out on sex for the night. Satisfied, the gang of street trash zipped up their pants, turning with devilish glee towards the figure of Eric, still on the floor. “What about this one?” T-Bird asked, nudging him with the toe of his boot.

“Kill him.” FunBoy spat, “do whatever you want. I’m late for a date.” He stalked out of the apartment, a chorus of screams following him out. Shelley begged them to leave Eric alone. To take her instead. She would do anything, but she just wanted Eric alive. She could deal with death if she knew Eric had the chance to keep going. To get signed by a label with Hangman’s Noose, to move out to California and record in a real studio. She wanted him to live and thrive. The others tuned her out, brushing her off with little energy as they brought him to his feet and dragged him towards the big gothic rose window that opened onto the street below.

Shelley couldn’t watch, her fight gone. Her eyes closed, tears still streaming down her face as she looked away. With each gunshot that rang out, she knew she would never get the chance to see him smile again. The crash of glass breaking shattered her out of her stupor as the men pitched the love of her life out the now gaping window. Her feet floated over the mess they had made of her home as she rushed past the pleased fucks that did all of this, her hands slicing open on what was left of the glass as she sobbed down over the edge of the building. Her screams ringing out in the street, mixing shortly with the sound of sirens from just a block over. On her way back across the floor, her feet felt every shard of glass, every splinter of wood and shattered ceramic piece. She trudged down the stairs, floor by floor, and out into the night. It had started raining sometime over the course of her assault. She wasn’t sure when. But the rain was cold. She didn’t mind at all, it cooled the flush from her chest and face; it washed the blood from her hands and feet as she stood there shivering in the pitch dark under the broken streetlight.

It only took a moment for the first car to pull up. She stared blankly at the officer that stepped out. “Woah, there, sweetheart. What happened?” He coaxed her to sit in his back seat, the warmth from inside blasting across her back, bare from where the group had torn her clothing in their fervor. Only in the safety of the Officers presence did she let herself start to cry again. In broken sobs, she recounted the past few hours to him, nodding and rubbing her back gently. Another car pulled up, shortly followed by the coroners van. The sight of that sent her over the edge again, sobbing into the Officers jacket. “It’s all right, let’s get you to the station and we can get you cleaned up and into some dry clothes.” She only nodded, all she could muster before she was hit with realization.

“Wait!” She jumped to her feet, hardly wincing from the glass coating the soles of her feet. “I want to see him. Please. I need to tell him I love him.” She shook as she stood there, waiting for the nod that came seconds later. A call over the walkie talkie was made to let her through, and a path opened up almost immediately. That path, this aisle, gave her chills. She checked the time through the broken glass of her watch to find that it was officially Halloween. How odd, she though. That she would still be taking a walk down an aisle towards Eric on Halloween. A demented giggle bubbled over her lips, tears starting again as she took the rest of the path in three large strides and fell to her knees next to his body. The officers around the couple removed their caps, holding them over their hearts. Devil’s Night was always hard, but none of them could remember one like this in their time with the force. Shelley let everything out, laying over Eric’s chest and gripping onto his shirt. Her hands scrambled for purchase on the slick fabric, blood and rain mingling in the puddles between her fingers and knees. The officers gave her all the time she needed, until a voice called out from behind them.

“Shelley? Eric!” Heavy boots ran towards her as she straightened up and caught the lithe form of the girl racing into her arms. “What happened? Are you ok? He-….” She cut off, catching sight of the man that could have easily been a father to her. “Eric, no…” she searched Shelley’s face, begging with her eyes to be told that this was a cruel joke.

“I’m so sorry, Sarah. I’m so so sorry, I know you loved him, I did too. We do. We love him.” She pushed the girls wet hair out of her face, nodding fast. “Come with me to the station. I’ll tell you what happened. You’re a tough girl. But’ it’s ok. I’ve got you still.” Secretly, Shelley was glad that Sarah had shown up when she did. She was dreading having to tell her that Eric was gone from them. The two held each other in the rain for a few more moments, each having a hand resting on the mans chest that they had both loved so much in life.

~~~~~2 years later~~~~~

“You ready, kiddo?” Shelley called out into the small home she had purchased this past year, right outside the main city limits. She slung a leather jacket over her form, one that seemed too large on her. But, she fell so comfortably into it’s folds and wear. Sarah came out from her own room, zipping her jacket up to her chin.

“Yep, let’s go.” She grabbed her skateboard from against the wall and walked out to the car while Shelley locked up the front door and checked it three times. A habit she had picked up ever since the break in. Climbing into the front seat, only after dropping the board onto the back seat, she settled in and buckled her belt. Out the front window, she could see the hesitation to leave. This always happened, not just on the anniversary. Shelley didn’t like leaving home anymore. You would think things would be the complete opposite, but her attachment to home had only grown since they two had settled into the cottage style home. “You ok?” She called out her still open door. The older woman only shook herself from her reverie and started towards the car, climbing into the drivers seat and buckling up.

“Yeah, let’s get going. I think he said he would be there around three to show us around.” She noted, starting up the engine and pulling out from the driveway, heading back towards the city. She hated traveling into the city, but she had come across an opportunity to turn their old apartment into a boutique. Something she had always dreamed of doing anyway. Owning her own little shop, filling it to the brim with curiosities and gothic fashion. Now, she was presented with the perfect space to do that. Was it odd that she almost hoped for a haunting? “What are you thinking about, Sarah?” She asked, the girl had been quiet since puling out of the driveway.

She only shook her head, smiling over at her caretaker. Ever since her mother had completely abandoned her for that drugged out piece of shit boyfriend of hers, Sarah had grown so much as a person. Shelley was teaching her so much about being a young woman, about life and love. Something her mother could have never done for her. “Just Eric.” She sighed gently. “Yeah, me too.” Shelley agreed. “How about we visit him after the showing?” Sarah brightened up at that, knowing they frequented his grave, so the man had one of the best manicured grave sites in the entire city. “Yeah, he should know what’s going on with the old place.” She chimed. “He deserves it, he would love that you’re doing this.” She said, reaching for her mentors hand. A soft nod was afforded as the car turned onto the street where it had happened. The pair fell quiet as they approached the building, both pairs of eyes trained on the still gaping window.

“How eerie is that?” Shelley pondered, throwing the vehicle into park and cutting the engine. “Well, here we are. You ready?” She caught a quick nod from the younger and, in unison, they stepped out of the car. Sarah came around to meet Shelley and took her hand as they crossed they street towards the hulking building. Up the stairs they went, and fell still at the threshold of the apartment. “Wow. This is…hard.” She admitted, as if she hadn’t wanted to. “Hey, it’s ok. You’ve got this, you’re brilliant.” Shelley nodded and steeled herself as she stepped through the door, still off it’s hinges. The creak of old hard wood floor under her feet gave her chills like she hadn’t had in two years. Her eyes trailed around the still wrecked, but now empty, space. The pair jumped at the sound of a third voice from behind them.

“Glad you two found the place. Can’t have been hard, though.” Thomas, the realtor Shelley was working with smiled. “How you finding it?” He asked softly. He knew this was going to be an easy sell, but he still wanted to be nice to the woman. He knew the story. Everyone did.

“Yeah, it looks rough. But, then, it can’t exactly have been easy to get anyone to come clean out after…” she trailed off. “But yeah, it looks the same. Just empty. You know?” She was fighting emotion. Sarah gave her hand a gentle squeeze and a confident smile. “It’s just hard for her, Tom. But thanks for finding it for us, it means a lot.” She spoke up. The man only nodded.

“Well, let me know when you ladies are ready, I’ve got the contract in my car if you decide to take it.” He pardoned himself, closing the door behind him. The pair walked around the space again, hands trailing over familiar surfaces, warped now from weather and time. Surfaces that held so many memories. Shelley sighed, eyes closing as she recalled so many things her and Eric had done here. A flush rose to her cheeks as she caught sight of the built in bed platform the two had shared, over the course of their love together that bed had seen so much. Sarah followed her eyes and screwed her face into a scrunch. “Oh, yuck!”

A laugh bubbled between the two as Shelley scooped Sarah into a hug. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for you.” She whispered, breath tickling the hairs at the back of Sarahs neck. “Yeah of course. I’m here for you just as much as you’re here for me.” She pulled away from the hug and grinned at her. “Now, let’s go sign that contract and get to work on fixing this place up to be a shop.” She laughed. “Let’s go!” She grabbed onto Shelley’s hand and started down the stairs to meet Tom at his car.

Not long after, they found themselves with the keys to the door in hand, along with a copy of the contract. Shelley was, once again, the owner of the home in which her fiancé met his untimely demise. And, she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that yet.

The hours found them once again sitting on the patch of grass above Eric’s grave again. Shelley replaced the roses in the vase, deep purple this time. “Hey, you. How’s death treating you?” She asked softly, placing a kiss to the top of the tombstone. “We miss you. But, we have some good news.” She spoke softly, other families were about and she didn’t want to disturb them.

“We bought the old apartment!” Sarah, though, didn’t have as much couth. “We’re gonna turn it into a goth boutique, just like Shelley always wanted!” The youth was practically buzzing. Shelley just laughed, she couldn’t help it. Sarah’s happiness was infectious.

The two spent a few more hours visiting with their lost love before deciding to head home. Upon getting there, though, the door was wide open. No lights had been turned on. But, something was off. Shelley pulled a small handgun from underneath her seat and ordered Sarah too stay put while she checked the house out. She left the door cracked so as not to alert whoever was inside of their presence, if they hadn’t already heard the car in the drive. She snuck inside, tip toeing all the while. Room by room, she searched. Nobody seemed to be there at all, when, out of nowhere the front door slammed shut. Her feet raced to the front of the house where she was met with a sight she hadn’t seen in two years. “Look who I found!” Sarah beamed. And the world went black for Shelley.

~~~

When Shelley came to, the room was dark. But she was in her own bed. A dark figure sat in the armchair by the window, and as she stirred, his head snapped up to check on her. “It can’t be…” she trailed off as she was met with the sight of her fiancé at her bedside. She inhaled deeply, sitting up against the headboard. It was definitely him. His scent; he smelled of leather, tobacco, faintly of electricity if it had a smell, and now of fresh dirt. His lips curved into a faint smile as he watched her, green eyes sparking in the moonlight that was cutting through her curtains. She couldn’t help herself. Shelley launched herself upwards and into his arms, pressing her lips to his. Black grease paint smeared with the desperation of them both. They had missed each other, that was for sure. And the love was still there. Even death couldn’t break that. A groan came from Eric’s throat as he laid her back against her pillows and trailed his lips down her neck, leaving a streak of black in his wake.

Her breath became short as he reached her collar. “Shelley, I’ve missed you.” His lips paused their assault on her skin for a brief moment. Her hands, locked into his dark curls, pulled his face back up to meet hers. His body leaned perfectly against hers, and OH, it was Eric all right. Tears sprang to her eyes as she let out her only desperate question. “How?” He only shook his head.

“I’m not sure.” His lips found hers again, cold, but welcome as always. She had dreamed of him coming back to her. But of course she had never thought that it could or would ever happen. The lovers bodies twisted together as they always had, legs knotted and arms wound. Fingers gripped into each others hair, or nails latched into each others skin. “I want to see them” she whispered between kisses, tipping her head back to allow herself room to speak. “Please, Eric.” He paused again. This time, his stillness wasn’t comfortable. He wasn’t sure that he wanted her to see anything of what had caused his death. But he could never say no to Shelley. He thought for a second before nodding softly. Untangling himself from her was harder than he thought it would be; and, leaning his torso against the headboard, he tugged his shirt over his head. Shelley was entranced.

There he was in front of her again, the skin of his chest bare to her. But, in this moment, that wasn’t her concern. Her eyes followed the curve of his stomach, down to the three puckered scars on his abdomen. Her hands began to shake as she reached out, running her fingers gently over the scars. “Oh, Eric.” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry.” She let out a short sob. His arms were back around her in an instant.

“No, baby. Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault.” He comforted her as she cried. Eventually, her tears came to a stop and she laid against his chest, cheek pressed to his collar. She decided to take advantage of her positioning and lay soft kisses across the spot she knew drove him wild. He inhaled sharply, muscles jolting under her. “Shelley.” He groaned out softly. “Sarah is in the next room Plus, I’m dead. I don’t know if it works like that anymore.” He admitted, a bit ashamed.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t love you.” She mumbled, lips still to his cool skin. “Please, just humor me.” She begged. He nodded, rolling to pin her under his body, a knee placed between her thighs and his elbows caging her down, torturously close to his lips. “You want to feel me in bed with you again, is that it?” He asked, nosing her head to the side and continuing his assault of the soft skin below her jaw. She nodded, a soft mewl escaping her lips as her breath caught in her throat. “Yes…” he only smiled down at her and let a hand trail down her body, feeling the skin he had been longing for, for the past two years. Finally.

~~~

Morning sun came streaming through the same crack in the curtain that had revealed Eric to Shelley the night before. But, Eric was gone. The bed was mussed from where he had laid, and the pillow showed proof of his grease paint (she would talk to him about that later) but she could smell pancakes and coffee from the kitchen. A groan left her as she reached her hands above her head, stretching out. She rustled about until she found her pajama shorts and tank top discarded at the foot of the bed, and upon dressing followed the smell out to the small kitchen.

There, at the kitchen table, cigarette hanging between his lips was the love of her life. Half alive? Half dead? Who cared? He was hers again. She smiled and placed a cup of the fresh coffee in front of him. “I thought you quit smoking.” She said, placing a kiss to his cheek.

He chuckled lightly, grinding it out in the empty cup he had from earlier. “Yeah, well. Dying will do that to a man.”

#The Crow #Eric Draven #Fanfic #fan fiction #request #requests #open requests #fanfic requests #Shelley Webster #halloween #mischief night #writing #the crow 1994

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