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stillebesat · 3 years

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Meeting Virgil (5x1) -Third Time

Sanders Shorts: Remy Sanders Sides: Virgil Blurb: A Special Delivery Prequel. -Five times Remy tried to give Virgil a child and the one time he succeeded. Inspiration: @book-of-charlie asked: What did Virgil mean by “the last 5 times?” Fic Type: STORK!AU, Winged!Remy Chapter Warnings: Implied Neglectful Parents, Implied Miscarriage Taglist in Reblog. To Catch Up: First Time Second Time

Little Lacey was going to change the world. Remy knew it from the moment the baby girl’s eyes had lit up upon seeing him and his wings. From the second she had opened her mouth and let out the most contagious laugh he’d ever heard.

Even now, as he wound his way through the golf course parking lot crowded with stalls and people waiting for the fireworks to start on the hill above them, Lacey drew smiles from everyone standing nearby with that contagious bubbling laughter as she bounced in his arms.

He’d been tempted to put her to sleep when the twin lines of green and purple he’d been following led straight into this noisy place with music blaring, kids screaming, and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy thick in the air. First impressions with new parents hardly went well if the baby was screaming their head off after all, yet Lacey apparently loved the chaos surrounding them. She’d perked right up, her giggles ringing in his ear before he’d even landed.

There was no doubt. Despite her previous parents’ best attempts to treat her like a forgotten dusty doll in a china cabinet, Lacey thrived in having everyone’s attention focused on her. For being in the limelight. Yes. Remy knew she would change the world once she was older if the way everyone cooed -from the lady waiting in line with her son to get their face painted to the burly motorcycle dude that looked like he could tear your head off with his pinky- at her was any indication.

It was attention that Remy wasn’t exactly used to dealing with himself anymore. Usually his S.T.O.R.K. duties took him to places that were...quieter...more…secluded environments. One on Two situations where he could meet the new parents away from watching eyes, give them their new bundle of joy and then take off soon after their bond was established.

“Oh, isn’t she precious!” A grandmother cooed at Lacey, her hands twitching with the obvious old person urge to pinch the baby’s cheeks as she gave Remy a warm smile. “You’re one lucky fella having such a beautiful daughter!”

His stomach did a little uncomfortable flip flop at that. It wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken as a parent, but it always threw him off when people assumed he was capable of such a feat when growing up it had felt like everyone expected him to die before he reached twenty.

According to Larry and Dot, however, despite the years he’d spent ferrying babies around -and getting them to their parents without issue...well, major issues-- he was still quite ‘rough around the edges.’

Ha.

He’d like to see them say that when faced with the burly motorcycle dude two stalls over. He couldn’t be that rough acting anymore.

Probably.

Maybe.

Eh.

Remy shook his head, wings twitching against his back as he grinned at the woman, glad his metallic green eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. “She’s adorable alright, but I’m just watching her for a friend while they grab a bite to eat.” He tilted his head to the twin lines that led towards the other side of the food stalls beyond the lady as Lacey giggled in his ear, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

The words flowed easily enough off his tongue, despite the bitter taste they left. Lying wasn’t really a thing with S.T.O.R.K.s hence his...technical truth. He was watching Lacey, though friend might be a bit strong of a word when he’d never met the parents before. But he was planning to grab some of those delectable chicken strips he could smell afterwards. So yah...basically the truth.

He was good at that.

Larry and Dot would visibly roll their eyes but quietly smile their approval at his ability to find and exploit loopholes.

The grandmother’s eyes grew softer as Lacey wiggled, reaching fingers grabbing onto the feathers her little hands could reach. “How sweet.” She murmured, placing a hand over her heart.

Did she mean Lacey or the fact Remy was ‘watching’ her? He sighed internally, keeping the smile in place with effort. He’d never been the greatest at interacting with old people who would ‘dear me’ and ‘oh my’ him to death if he accidentally slipped and swore in front of them.

“Mhmmm, if you’ll excuse me.” He gave her a nod, wings pressing harder against his back as he edged around her, waving one hand over his head like he was acknowledging someone in the distance and quickly vanished into the crowd, following the green and purple ribbons that would lead him to Lacey’s future family.

Still both glowing with the exact same shade of brightness. Still unknown just which one would end up with little Lacey’s shining personality in their lives.

Well. He paused as the two colored ribbons finally diverged. The Purple leading to the right to where the sun had just set. Green leading to the left to where hundreds of people were sitting, waiting for the show in the sky.

Both options meant still more people. But with the brightness being so close, he’d have to scope out both possibilities first before making a decision.

He exhaled, trying to remain relaxed as the crowd brushed by him, his wings trembling against his back. It wasn’t like anyone could see his wings so he had nothing to fear about being mobbed for his feathers. But still. The constant press of people unknowingly touching them had him on edge.

“Purple first.” He mumbled, adjusting his grip on Lacey as she sat back up, clapping her hands together with a squeal as he moved them closer to a brightly colored bouncy house. It wasn’t like the Edgelord would be here among the Good Old Rocky Mountains when he lived on the opposite side of the country, but it would be best to confirm that first.

With how quickly ‘Virge’ had vanished that night in the woods, it wouldn’t surprise him if the poor guy was still lost in the backwaters of Virginia.

No. Probably not. He seemed resourceful enough...unless he’d gotten himself captured by a Mothman colony--did they have colonies or were they more of a solitary creat--

Remy unexpectedly broke through the crowd, coming out where a line of porta-potties stood like quiet stinky sentinels in the fading light.

And there, right where the purple line ended, stood Mr. Not-a-Good-Dad himself in all his gothic glory. Wearing a black tank top that showed off his arms, artistically torn jeans, and purple dyed hair falling into his storm colored eyes.

Remy’s heart skipped a beat as he stumbled to a stop, rapidly blinking to clear his vision of this impossible mirage. “No. Fu--Freaking. Way.” He breathed, staring at Virge just as the guy reached down and picked up a little girl who couldn’t have been more than four or five years old, easily balancing her on his hip like he’d done this exact action multiple times before, speaking softly to her as he brushed the tears from her wet cheeks with his thumb.

Remy swallowed, bouncing Lacey as she wiggled in his grip. Lost maybe? Had to be. He couldn’t see the bonding lines between the two of them for all that Virge looked like a Father patiently calming his distressed child.

Of course, that didn’t rule out the possibility that she was his cousin, or even a niece or some kid of a friend. He would need to get closer to the girl to know for sure if there was any connection between the two.

Remy shrugged, drawing in a steadying breath. Well. Better make his move now rather than later. “Well, Laceyloo” He said, giving the girl a wink as he moved forward. “Ready to try your luck with our resident Emo?”

Didn’t the saying go that the ‘third time's the charm’ or something? With how adorably cute she was...and with how comfortable Virge seemed with this other little girl, perhaps Lacey’s laughter would be the key to convincing Dark and Brooding to accept his obviously destined role as a Father.

One could hope.

“Hey Stranger.” He called, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as the Edgelord jumped like he’d just been electrocuted, causing the little girl to cry out and cling to him as stormy grey eyes met Remy’s metallic green ones.

Virge glowered at him even as his hands moved to soothe the girl, low words leaving his lips as she buried her head against his chest, his stormy eyes only softening as Lacey sat upright in Remy’s arms and gave him a tiny wave of her hand and a delighted giggle.

“Hey.” He said, still focused on Lacey, a myriad of conflicting expressions crossing his face.

Hook.

Remy moved a deliberately casual step closer, wings fluttering with anticipation. “Fancy meeting you here.” He made a show of looking around. “Does Mothman usually attend this sort of thing?”

Virge rolled his eyes, glancing at the girl in his arms before focusing back on Remy. “Slenderman actually.”

A what? Remy paused, glancing at the sniffling girl with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” She didn’t look like a...whatever a Slenderman was.

Another thing he’d have to go look up if these encounters with V-man were gonna continue and he kept insisting on referencing random fantasy cryptid creatures that Remy had barely heard of.

That way he would be more prepared next time.

If there was a next time.

If Lacey failed to work her magic.

Which she wouldn’t.

Because she was Lacey the Amazing and this was their lucky third encounter. So of course he wouldn’t be seeing his stubborn Emo Nightmare again.

Unfortunately.

Virge snorted. “No. She wouldn’t be considered one if I was. Lily here has lost her parents. I’m helping her find them. Right Lily?”

The child glanced up, face tear-streaked, bright brown eyes shimmering with more tears waiting to fall. “They’re gone.” She whimpered.

“And we’ll find them.” Virge assured, voice going soft. “Remember? You were telling me what your Mommy was wearing. A pretty pearl necklace right? Her favorite that you can’t yet wear?”

She sniffled, nodding. “Yah.”

Remy shook his head. Well that was a helpful description.

Not.

Still. Edgelord had shown more patience with the crying kid than most strangers would in this sort of situation. “A necklace.” He repeated. “Like you’ll be able to see that in the dark.”

Virge rolled his eyes. “It’s more help than you’re currently being, Eagle One. Plus I am listening for anyone calling her name.”

“Mhmm in this crowd? The parents would need to scream quite loud.” He took another step closer, smiling as Lily and Lacey made eye contact, the baby in his arms wiggling as Lily straightened with a “Hi you!” as she waved at Lacey. “No, It sounds like you need help from an Expert.” He said, spreading out his wings, flapping them once.

A bad decision really with how many people were around that he could have hit, though the surprised sound Virge made as he lifted a hand, taking an automatic step closer as his grey eyes darted to the people continuing by made it well worth it.

He froze as Lacey laughed, making grabby hands at his wings and Lily gasped a soft “Angel?” leaving her lips, her brown eyes growing bright with awe.

A S.T.O.R.K. But he wouldn’t begrudge the child for her confusion. Remy nodded to Lily, bouncing Lacey in his arms. “I’m here to help you Lils. We’ll find your parents.”

This close he could see easily her parent line--the same Green one he’d been following earlier ironically enough, because of course it would be the same fu-freaking line he’d followed all the way here, winding its way upwind of the porta-potties to a low hill with a couple shade trees at the top. Well, if it didn’t work out with Mr. Reluctant here, at least it appeared Lily already liked her potential new baby sister if their shared giggles and fascination with his wings was anything to go by.

Virge stared beyond Remy, watching the crowd, growing more tense the longer everyone else continued walking by without reacting. “They can’t--” He whispered.

“See them? No.” Remy folded his wings, unwilling to keep them open and exposed around so many individuals now that he’d made his point. “Betcha that’s why people don’t usually see your Mothman either.” Probably. It had to be a magic related thing. Or belief thing. A blending ability? Were S.T.O.R.K.s like Mothmen? Bigfoot? Vampi--oh, yah no….his wings pressed against his back. If it turned out Vampires and Werewolves and Mothmen were actually real only then would he have a mental breakdown over maybe being in the same category as mythical creatures. Right now. He had to focus. Find Lily’s parents. Give Lacey to the Edgelord and walla. Mission accomplished.

Virge slowly shook his head, shifting Lily against his side before he rubbed the back of his neck. “No, there's been enough credible sightings of Mothmen by people to discount that theory.” He said, shrugging one shoulder. “It may explain why, when people talk about their encounters with Angels, that they rarely mention them with wings though.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Not an Angel, V-man. I already told you. I’m a--”

“Stork. Yes. But are you sure that’s not a type of Angel?” He asked, eyes gleaming in the faint light given by the lamp posts. “You bring babies to parents who want children right? You’re willing to help me find this girl’s parents. Therefore a Stork could be a subset of Guardian Angels.”

Huh.

“...You been thinking on this alot?” Remy asked faintly.

Which One. It shouldn’t thrill him that Gothica incarnate was thinking about him. And Two. Questioning his so-called ‘Angelhood’ was definitely not going to keep him up all night regardless of how this encounter ended. An Angel? HIM?! Ha. Larry and Dot would have a conniption that their troubled ward was considered some sort of goodie two shoes Guardian Angel.

Maybe.

Else Larry would tear up, crush him in a hug, and start blubbering Dadisms of ‘being so proud’ and Dot would pat him firmly on the back and say “about time.” It was hard to tell which they’d go most days.

Remy shook his head, raising a finger and jabbing it in Edgelord’s direction. “You.” He said. “Are distracting me from helping Lily” and Lacey “find her parents. Shame. On. You.” He spread a wing towards the girl in Virge’s arms. She immediately perked up, a shy smile on her lips as she reached out to touch his feathers.

Laughter danced in Virge’s eyes as tilted his head, purple tipped bangs falling in front of them, shadowing their grey color further as he maintained eye contact, not at all distracted by the wing inches from his arm. “Oh? Then tell me, O Mighty Stork, how can you find her parents?”

“Same way I keep finding you.” Remy said with a smirk, heart fluttering in anticipation as Popsicle blanched. So close. “Not that you can see it.” He pointed to the ground where the purple ribbon still shown between Virge and Lacey and then over to the green one that also streaked from her to run parallel to Lily’s line that would lead them to her parents. “But all children have a connection between them and their parents or guardians that we,” he gestured to himself, “can see.”

Virge licked his lips, glancing to Lacey, then to the ground, his arm tightening protectively around Lily. “And Lily’s parents are?”

“Right up that hill.” He said without hesitation, pointing to where the green line led. “I can’t see who it ends at, but they are over there. I can easily reunite Lily with them, if you don’t mind holding little Lacey here for me in the meantime.” He said, his wings rising and mantling around them to block Virge’s view of anyone else as he held out the baby for him to take.

Lacey automatically reached out to her potential new Dad, making grabby hands along with a soft cooing sound demanding to be held.

Line.

Virge reached out, arm already curving to take the baby from him, only to hesitate at the last second, grey eyes flickering with shadows as he met Remy’s green ones. “That first time. When you broke into my place. You said…” He licked his lips, hand trembling as he pulled it back to hold onto Lily. “I would only have to ‘hold her and see.’ What did you mean by that?”

….Smart Fish.

Remy exhaled, shaking his head. Sinker totally sunk. Suspicious Nancy here just had to remember some off hand comment he’d made ages ago and question it.

It was times like this that he wished he could Lie to potential parents. It would make his job so much easier. But at the same time, he knew all too well that starting out a budding connection with lies would mean a crumbling family foundation later on. Best to stick to the truth to give the child the best connection with their new parents from the start.

Remy pulled Lacey back into a more steady position against his chest, soothing her disgruntled sounds as she still tried to reach out to the Emo--or maybe it was Lily she was reaching for? The other little girl was bouncing in Virge’s arms hard enough to be a workout as she stretched towards Remy.

Probably a good idea to not have those two touch just yet. He wanted to try and make the bond with Virge work first before allowing Lacey to complete the bond with Lily’s family. He shifted to keep the two out of reach from each other before speaking to Virge. “A parental bond is only established with a child in the custody of a S.T.O.R.K. when said child is touched or held by the new parent. It’s a love at first contact sort of thing.” He said, not at all surprised when the reluctant Emo took two quick steps back away from him.

Stubborn. Why was he so stubborn about this?! Shouldn’t him showing up Three Fuc--Freaking times be clear enough indication that PopStar here was meant to be a Father?!

“So~. If I were to hold Lacey for you while you helped Lily--’” Virge asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I would have killed two birds with one stone.” He said simply. “Lily would return to her parents and Lacey here would have bonded with you and you’d be her new Dad.”

Virge growled at that, eyes flashing as his shoulders hunched high enough to nearly touch his ears. “I told you before that I’m not a good Dad.” He hissed. “And yet you just tried to trick me into--”

Well most people weren’t this stupidly resistant to becoming a parent.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “Ah Huh. For some reason, LolliPop.” He gestured to Lily still comfortably resting in his arms. “I don’t believe you.”

Virgil bared his teeth, arms tightening protectively around the girl. “This is different. She’s lost! I’m not going to leave her to wander around here all alone!”

“And Lacey is different how?” Remy retorted. “She is lost, looking for a new Dad, and walla you’re here to save the bloody day!”

Virgil shook his head, taking two more steps back, nearly hitting the nearest porta-pottie. “NO.”

And just like that the Purple line fizzled, growing hazy to Remy’s sight as the Green line took on an even brighter glow.

Remy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jiminy Crickets! And he’d had such high hopes that Lacey would be the breakthrough to Virge’s reluctance in joining the Fatherhood Club. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, you fuc--freaking scaredy cat!” Not that he had any personal experience in it, but he’d seen it. Seen how happy the men were to become fathers once the bond was established. “I don’t make mistakes in this. You’d be an excellent Dad no matter your doubts. I wouldn’t be here talking to you otherwise!”

“You don’t know that!!” Virgil retorted, a tint of panic to his voice. “You can’t! How can I believe some guy showing up with a random baby in his arms--you could have kidnapped her for all I--”

“You’ve seen my wings.” Remy interrupted, spreading them out and flapping them for emphasis. “Obviously I’m not exactly some guy. I don’t kidnap babies. I rescue them from bad situations and take them to better ones. That’s what a S.T.O.R.K. does!”

“I can’t--”

“You’ll have to at some point.” Remy snapped. “I’m going to keep coming to you until you do. You do realize that right? You’re marked for Fatherhood and if it’s not me that can get that through your thick skull it will be a different S.T.O.R.K. who does.”

Virge violently shook his head. “No. I’m not--”

“A good Dad. I know. I’ve heard.” Remy rolled his eyes, snapping his wings shut as he turned away to follow the green line, adjusting as Lacey twisted in his arms trying to look behind them. “I still don’t believe you.” But it was obvious by how the purple line had faded to nearly nothing that Lacey wouldn’t end up as the Edgelord’s kid.

A pity. The dude could use some serious laughter in his life. Bright and bubbly like little Lacey’s. Too bad he was apparently immune to her charm.

“...Where are you going?”

Remy fought back the urge to snarl. “To take Lacey here to her next best option, which funnily enough is Lily’s parents so are you coming with me to reunite them or not?” At least he already knew that Lily would get along with Lacey. One hurdle gone in that regard.

Virge made a noise of surprise. “They lost their child and you’re taking another to them---”

“Mistakes happen.” Remy said shortly, glancing over his shoulder. “No one can be the perfect parent 24/7. It’s impossible. You get distracted at the wrong moment and walla your child has slipped away. Or you think someone else is watching them while they think you’re watching them and no one questions why they haven’t seen the kid recently. it---her parent line is still bright, Virge.” He looked away as Mr. Reluctant caught up and fell in step with him. “They aren’t horrible bad people just because they lost her tonight. They love her. No doubt about it.”

And if Cynical Gothica was so concerned about them and their parenting skills then he should have said YES to being the Dad to Lacey before his purple line had fizzled out!

Virge ducked his head, shoulders hunching as he brushed Lily’s hair out of her eyes. “...Okay.” He mumbled a dozen steps later. “But what if they--they loved--love her, but…but did something---what if something happened to hurt her? Badly? And they couldn’t--what if it’s not fix--fixable? What then? Would you really--”

Remy stopped just short of cresting the hill, wings prickling, goosebumps on his arms sending a chill through him as he turned back to Virge. This. He could sense. Was important.

“Mistakes happen, V.” He repeated in a softer tone. “Whatever mistake you think you’ve made that you think disqualifies you from ever becoming a Father…” He stretched out a wing, brushing the Emo’s cheek, causing him to look up, eyes so soft and vulnerable that it made Remy’s chest ache. “It’s not an unforgivable one. Again. I wouldn’t be here if it were.”

People changed. People could become better than they were. Whatever had happened in the Edgelord’s past wasn’t a deal breaker to the S.T.O.R.K.s. The three times he’d shown up in his presence had to be some sort of proof. He’d never heard of someone refusing parenthood before, but the fact that Remy kept returning, the fact that Virge kept coming up as an option in the first place, had to mean something.

V bit his lip, eyes troubled as he looked to Lacey then back to Remy, the purple ribbon connecting the two flickering like a sputtering candle. “I’m not--” He whispered.

Remy let out a slow breath, well aware that his wing was still touching his cheek, but unwilling to pull away just yet. “It’s something to think on, Virge O’Doom.” He said, voice still soft. “Once is a Chance, Twice a Coincidence, Thrice? It’s a Pattern. It’s just a matter of deciding if you’re ready when I come back a Fourth time.”

As much as he wanted to convince him and make it to work between Lacey and the Emo...the line had already fuzzed once. He didn’t want Virge to have any doubts in this.

“LILY?!” A shrill woman’s voice suddenly rang through the air, breaking the tension between them like a snapped wire. “LILY WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“LILYLOO?” A man called out, his voice breaking on the last syllable. “Lily?! Has anyone seen my daughter?!”

Remy smirked, pulling his wing back and raising an eyebrow to Virge as Lily jerked upright at her name, nearly pulling free from his grip in the process. “See? Not bad parents.”

Virge drew in a visibly shaky breath, his arms tightening around the little girl. “Right.”

“MOMMY!” Lily cried, wiggling to get free. “DADDY!”

“We got her!” Remy called, using his wing to push Mr. Reluctant forward up the hill, pitching his voice so it would carry to the frantic parents. “Over here!” He raised his free hand, waving to draw their attention as he moved his other wing to cover Lacey, hiding her from their view for now.

“Oh, Lily!” Her mother rushed forward wild curly hair streaming behind her like a banner, pulling her free from Virge’s grip with little effort to smother her with kisses. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Lily wrapped her arms around her Mother, burying her head against her chest. “Sorry Momma,” She whimpered.

“Where was she?” Her father asked, hovering anxiously behind his wife. His fingers running through his daughter’s hair.

“By the bathrooms.” Virge said, shuffling awkwardly in place. “She was crying, so we---” He gestured to Remy and himself. “Were helping her find you.”

We? Nope nope. “Pretty sure that was all you.” Remy muttered under his breath, shifting as Lacey wiggled in his grip, trying to peer out from around his wing. He would have never been aware of the girl’s situation if Castlevania hadn’t taken the initiative. His job usually involved helping unloved kids. Not loved ones. Even if they were lost.

“Lily,” Her mother scolded in a soft tone, lifting up her chin. “You know you need one of us to go with you.”

The girl sniffed, eyes welling with tears. “But I’m a big girl! I can go by myself! I’m no baby.”

Grief flashed across the Mom’s face, one hand dropping to her stomach before quickly rising back to cradle the back of Lily’s head.

Ah. Remy straightened, light green dust swirling at his fingertips as recognition flashed through him. He’d seen that particular look hundreds of times before from mothers who’d lost a babe in the womb. He’d bet his sunglasses that the baby would have been the same age as little Lacey here had they survived to full term, hence why the line was so bright. Lacey could easily slip into the family like she’d always been a part of them.

“That may be.” Her husband said, taking the opportunity to pull Lily into his arms, squeezing her tight as he gave his wife a concerned look, his own eyes showing a hint of grief as well. “But you know how your mother worries about you.”

“So much, baby girl. So much. If I lost you too-” Her voice hitched as she abruptly cut off, bowing her head, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“But you didn’t.” Remy said soothingly as he moved closer to the family, fingers of his free hand twisting to scatter green dust around them so that any nosy viewers would stop paying attention now that the little family reunion was complete. “Everyone is safe and sound. No harm done.” He pulled back his wing back to reveal baby Lacey, purposely brushing his feathers along her neck, causing her to break into soft laughter, twisting in his arms from the tickling sensation.

The Mother looked up at the sound, mouth dropping open. “Oh.” She breathed, clasping her hands over her heart, eyes shimmering as she stared at Lacey. “She’s--”

“Cute right?” Remy asked, holding her out in an unspoken invitation to hold her.

Unlike Virge, the Scrooge of Fatherhood, hovering beside him, she didn’t hesitate. She reached out to gently take Lacey into her arms, a hidden weight vanishing from her shoulders as Lacey giggled, nuzzling her face against the Mother’s neck, tiny fingers gripping onto her shirt.

“She’s absolutely precious.” She murmured, pressing a kiss into her thick hair. “What’s her name?”

“Lacey.” Remy said simply, the tip of his wing stretching out to push the Father and Lily closer to them.

“Lacey.” The Father repeated, moving to her side, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched his wife slowly rock the baby back and forth. “An L name.” He reached out, running a hand down Lacey’s back, causing the green line in Remy’s sight to flash twice indicating the parental bond had been accepted. “Just like Lily’s.”

Perfect. Remy exhaled, snapping out his wing to block Virge just as he tried to interrupt the moment.

Idiot.

Remy grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away as his wings fluttered, sending more light green sparks swirling away to settle around the newly expanded family, ensuring that Lacey would be able to bond with them in peace without further interruption.

Virge struggled, twisting in Remy’s grip, unable to break free as the first set of fireworks burst in the sky overhead. “That’s it?! You can’t seriously just--”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Can. Did. Bought the T-Shirt.” Or food. Could he still get his chicken strips if the fireworks had already started? Probably not. That was disappointing.

“Seriously?! You can’t just drop off a baby and leave!”

Funny. Remy pulled them to a stop at the bottom of the hill, mantling his wings so that Virge stood in his shadow. “I’m a S.T.O.R.K., Grimm Reaper. You do remember what that means right? Leaving babies on doorsteps is kinda the whole jig.”

Virge bristled, not at all intimidated. “But you just left her!”

Must be all those Mothman encounters. Remy crossed his arms. “In good hands, Virgeroo. Not all parents need me to stick around once I give them a child.” Thankfully. He hated dealing with the ones who had a million and six impossible questions they wanted answered. But he wasn’t actually going to leave little Lacey there just like that. What sort of S.T.O.R.K. would he be to literally just dump a child in a lady’s arms and leave?

He’d double back around to check in once he was sure Virge wouldn’t go try to find them and ruin everything.

“But!”

“No.”

EmoDramatic threw up his hands. “How will they explain this though? Going to a fireworks show with one child and coming home with two!”

Remy spread his arms, wiggling his fingers. “Maaagiic~.” He smirked, snapping his wings shut. “They can explain it however they want.” The bond would ensure that whatever reason they gave for suddenly having another child, it would be believed by those who heard it. “It’s not your concern.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, brushing past him.

Not until Mr. Not-a-Good-Dad accepted his fate at least. And who knew when that would happen. Would his curiosity help spur him into taking that final step?

Virge whirled with him, fingers brushing his wing before landing on his arm, sending a shiver down Remy’s spine. “I don’t understand.”

“And you won’t, LolliPop.” Remy shrugged free from his grip, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Not until you say yes to Dadhood. That’s another thing you can think on until I see you next.” He gave his Edgelord a two fingered salute as he jumped into the air, shimmering dust whirling around him helping him to vanish from view as a series of green and purple fireworks exploded overhead.

To Be Continued.

#Meeting Virgil #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #STORK AU #Remy #Virgil Sanders #Sleep #Anxiety #implied neglectful parents tw #implied miscarriage tw

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adamwatchesmovies · 2 years

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The Road (2009)

I’ve seen The Road twice now and it’s still a wallop of an experience. This is not a horror film or a thriller but it will have you sweating throughout.

This post-apocalyptic story follows a man (Viggo Mortensen) and his son (Cody Scott-McPhee) traveling in a desolated North America. After an unspecified global disaster, nearly all animal species have gone extinct and all plant life has been wiped out. Most humans have resorted to cannibalism to survive, but our heroes insist on holding onto their integrity in a world without hope.

Based on the novel by Cormac McCarthy, The Road shows us the deepest depths of desperation. While searching for greener pastures, our protagonists have to dodge marauding gangs armed with guns while having to confront their own demons and the appeal of letting go of their ideals. This film is frightening in the same way that a zombie movie is frightening. With limited resources and rampant paranoia, who is more dangerous: them, or us? It’s interwoven with a powerful drama. A father, a son. Probably the last living family left on earth. How did they get there, where will they go next?

For what it is, this is a great-looking, film. The use of color is particularly striking because there’s hardly any. This world is so bleak you wonder if suicide isn’t better than another day of uncertainty. Then, we slip into flashbacks of before the disaster and see how carefree these people were. It helps you remember that survival isn’t enough, that hope and joy are what will keep you going. A warm fire, a treat that’s been overlooked, a pleasant memory, those are what will keep our heroes going.

Watching The Road, you become determined not to lose hope, no matter what. You desperately want to see this father and son make it out alive. They became avatars for you. If they make it, you will too. Perhaps more important than their lives are their code of ethics, their desire to remain good people in a world where all morals have been abandoned. This is the crucial human element that makes the picture an unforgettable experience. Though things get as bleak as they possibly could, you’re constantly reminded that hope can still burn bright.

I won’t call this is a depressing movie, but it’s a depressing story. You thought a zombie apocalypse was bad? At least zombies can’t help but eat people, and once you turn into one, there’s nothing you can do about it. Our heroes are dying. They’re starved, haven’t seen sunlight in years, regularly talk about suicide as an option, and have seen horrors only hinted at in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre time and time again. It’s not a question of “if”, but “when”. In their shoes, what would you do? Director John Hillcoat forces you to confront a scenario with no alternatives. It's kill or be killed. When confronted with such extremes, you're compelled to examine who you are.

All that and it’s got some powerful performances. It boils down its themes to the essentials, stripping away everything but the crucially important. What’s left makes a powerful impact. Is it the kind of movie you can just pop into your machine and watch anytime? No, but you’re going to forget it anytime soon and it will provoke something inside you. The Road might be the stuff of nightmares, but I can’t help kind of loving it. (On DVD, April 22, 2016)

#TheRoad #movies #films #MovieReviews #FilmReviews #JohnHillcoat #CormacMcCarthy #JoePenhall #ViggoMortensen #kodi smit-mcphee #RobertDuvall #CharlizeTheron #GuyPearce #MollyParker #GarretDillahunt #MichaelK.Williams #2009films #2009movies

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darlingdtarot · 3 years

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5/11/2021 - New Moon In Taurus & Horoscopes For All Signs

The New Moon in Taurus is here! This is a wonderful time of rejuvenation, relaxation, and peacefulness. The New Moon in Taurus will bring a sense of comfort to every sign, and provide a space for emotional security. Work on getting to bed a little earlier or perhaps sleeping in more on days where you can afford to. Reworking your daily routine to include some self-care is something highly encouraged by the Universe. When you start taking time for yourself, you will find that more opportunities and options show up for you effortlessly! You might be listening to binaural beats, Singing bowls, Guided meditations, and Subliminals. These are going to help clear your mind immensely which is going to recharge you. Switching up your nightly routine in order to wind down easier will help you get to sleep faster. Deciding to put your phone away an hour before heading to sleep will be beneficial in aiding your sleep. Reading books, drawing, or listening to music will also encourage you to express yourself or indulge in your imagination. Make sure to take naps throughout this New Moon in Taurus also as the days might make you feel a bit heavier. This is also a great time to renovate your living space as well. Some might be wanting to invest in new bed sets, furniture, or odds and ends. This is the perfect time to do so as you will feel more energized to fix the energy of your environments. When your space is cleaned and cleansed, you will feel so much more inspired to get to your daily routine. It's incredibly important to make your space around you into your sanctuary! Doing self care during this Taurus New Moon is crucial as well!

Meditation is also going to be a beneficial thing to harness during this New Moon Taurus! Don't fret too much about if you fall asleep during your meditation ; sometimes that's what you need at that moment. Try again after being fully rested! Some are being pulled to guided meditations on Youtube such as Past Life Regressions, Connecting with/Meeting your Spirit Guides, and Spirit Animal Meditations. This is the perfect time to really work on your spirituality and to better understand who your spiritual team are!

Rituals that you can do during the Taurus New Moon:

Let's cover some of the best face and skin treatment rituals for during this time, shall we? My grandfather always said to me growing up, “Cleanliness is Next To Godliness, And Your Body Needs To Be Cleaned Like A Temple”. This is going to be a wonderful time to focus on your Glow and to Clean YOUR body like the Temple it is. The overall vibe of the New Moon in Taurus going forward though is to take care of your skin through Face Masks, Facials, Sugar Scrubs, Baths or Bath Bombs. Deciding to have a spiritual bath can also be very healing during this time also as it will cleanse you going forward throughout the rest of the month. This can be baths that are taken with your favorite essential oils, your favorite candles burning, or your favorite crystals in the water with you. Focusing on Skincare by using your favorite oils before bed – Argon, Rosehip Seed, Raspberry, Marula, Carrot Seed, or even Jojoba Oil will help you increase your confidence this month. When we take the extra time and focus it on our skin, our mental space will thank us also. Some might be deciding to do the blackhead strips, charcoal masks, or under eye patches – and perhaps you have been debating with yourself on if you should get these things lately. Spirit is saying – Treat Yourself during this Taurus New Moon, dearest! You can also take this time to do an oil treatment in your hair, leaving it in overnight so it can absorb as much moisture as possible. Coconut oil is amazing for this, but beware if you have dyed your hair with henna as coconut oil can cause your dye to run.

One of my favorite things to do is create my own bath supplies, so I want to share my favorite recipes for Sugar Scrub:

½ Cup Brown Sugar

½ Cup Granulated Sugar

1/3 Cup Salt

1 Tablespoon Essential Oil of Your Choice!

Mix and then apply to your skin and all over your body. You can also add in coffee grounds, but I would suggest using more brown sugar as a cushion as the coffee grounds can be a bit rough against your skin. Sea Salt is also optional, but I generally don't use it unless I'm making a courser salt for feet and hands. Oatmeal masks are also amazing too as they calm inflamed skin or outbreaks of acne. Trust yourself and follow your intuition on what your skin needs most. I like to make two big batches of both peppermint and vanilla body scrubs during the holiday season so I always have them on hand throughout the year. These keep perfectly, so long as you don't get any water inside of the jar itself. Keep in a plastic container and get some out each time you're ready to go into the shower or bath. It's wonderful to use courser sugar scrubs right before you remove hair as well to exfoliate and lift the hairs you are wanting to shave or wax. Some might also be getting into Sugaring more over this period too, which your skin is going to thank you for!

Some Essential Oils I suggest for skin health and the yummy smell they have are as follows:

Lemon

Vanilla

Peppermint

Pomegranate

Frankincense

Another great, cost effective and organic home remedy facial treatment for those that don't mind doing a more nontraditional face mask - take an egg from the fridge, separate the yolk from the white into different cups. Whisk both separately, but save the yolk for later. Take the whisked egg white and begin to spread on your face. Let dry onto skin, then wash off. Go back to the yolk, give another whisk, then apply and wait until it dries again. Wash face off, and enjoy your skin feeling incredibly soft! I would do this every week as a teenager growing up as it was more accessible money-wise for me than affording face masks or oils. It really works amazingly! The whole process can take up to an hour, so make sure to have your favorite songs or videos ready to keep you company!

Horoscopes for Each Sign and Element over the New Moon in Taurus:

Please make sure to check your Sun, Moon, Rising, and Venus Signs as you might resonate more with their energies. :)

EARTH: 7 of Cups – Options, Options, and More Options are coming your way, Earth Signs! You might find that during this Taurus New Moon, which is a time of introspection and rest, you have more to do than any other sign. You're taking a lot onto your plate at once, but you know that you have what it takes to get everything accomplished. Some Earth signs are going to be pleasantly surprised with a gift someone got them over this period. It's going to be something sentimental, and perhaps something you will cherish for many years to come. I'm seeing a pearl, so you might be receiving a necklace or some form of jewelry from someone you love. For other's, there's this energy of you don't need all of the riches in the world to be happy. You're focused on the joy and sentimentality in the world currently rather than material gains, which is going to make you a lot happier in the long run. For a select few Earth Signs, you're starting to realize that everyone is on their own timing. If we were to all be successful at the same time, where would the excitement be? Know as you work hard that your time is coming soon – and what you're expecting is better than all the riches in the world.

Taurus: Knight Of Cups – Self-love that leads to a romantic connection is coming your way, Taurus! This is coming after some Taurus might have been in hiding or isolation for the longest time, but you're ready to emerge. The Butterfly is finally leaving the safety of the cocoon to spread their wings and enjoy the world! This is your vibe right now under the New Moon in your sign, Taurus. Allow yourself to explore new ideas or adventures in your life. This leap of faith is what is going to not only bring you to self-love, but to a healthy relationship, too. For some Taurus, you might be scared on how to approach a partnership or connection. Don't be as this person appreciates your genuineness, and wants you to only approach as yourself. Keep loving and appreciating yourself, Taurus. You bring a lot of beauty into the world! Also, if you feel the need to stay longer in your cocoon; that's okay! But please don't forget to come out and love on those who love you!

Virgo: Queen Of Wands – This Virgo's on Fire! You're focusing on your passions and becoming dedicated to your life purpose. Because of this, People are going to be finally giving you the recognition that you deserve. Allow yourself to focus on things that light that fire underneath you! That's what's going to bring you to abundance! Some Virgo's are going to have other's being jealous about them, because you are going to be thriving during this Taurus New Moon. You're glowing from head to toe, and it's making other's feel a bit on edge. Some might have gotten used to you always being their Yes Man, that they hardly even noticed when you started doing your own thing or started shining. Those in a relationship, your partner might be the one feeling jealous with all of the extra attention you're going to be receiving. False friends are coming to the light now too, Virgo. Some might be wanting to come back to find something to gossip about or just want to get into your good graces now that you're making a name for yourself. Focus on you right now. Work on you, and be your own Yes Man.

Capricorn: 8 Of Coins – You're working hard, Capricorn! You're putting in the elbow grease needed to level up or achieve more. You might be working overtime or deciding to take more time on your hobbies. This might also give you the chance to make a career from your hobbies too! Some Capricorn's are craving nature and this is The Universe directly asking you to spend some time outside. Connect with Mother Gaia and you will feel a lot lighter. Some are being called towards rivers or creeks. It might be beneficial to pack a picnic and sit next to water for a few hours, Capricorn. Some other Capricorn's might be deciding to get into a new exercise regime. This is going to not only raise your confidence with the endorphin boost, but get your body looking tone and fit! Remember to take your time with this, and to go into your exercise focusing on the self-care that comes with it. Don't stress yourself out too much or overwhelm yourself in regards to loosing a certain amount of weight. See this instead as getting active and going! For one Capricorn in particular, people are noticing that booty. (The Tarot card in front of me, this man literally has the nicest butt haha, so I think this is a message for some.) Regardless of whatever you're focused on, things are getting done, Capricorn! Great job!

AIR: Page Of Cups – Someone has been keeping an eye on you, Air Signs! This is someone who wants to come in with a declaration of their feelings. This isn't anything big, and for some Air Signs, you might not even realize this person has deep feelings for you. This could entail them doing small acts of service, traveling to you, or opening up lines of communication more. For some this person is at a bit of a distance, or might have felt like they were. They're coming back around, don't worry! Other Air Signs are going to be focusing on their own Self-Care routine. This could include spiritual baths, space cleanses, facials, watching that new series that came out on Netflix, etc. Whatever it might be for you, you're deciding to start turning your attention towards your own care more. Pampering yourself is the name of the game over the Taurus New Moon. Other Air Signs are starting to be less critical of themselves and really start to see all they bring to the table. Good for you, Air Signs!

Gemini: 9 Of Wands – You're pushing forward resiliently, Gemini! You might have felt that you couldn't achieve all you set your mind to in the past, but here you are! You're pushing forward every day and putting one foot in front of the other. You're strong and courageous, unwavering and persistent. This is why you are in the homestretch with what you're manifesting into being! Whether this be a deeper level of commitment, more recognition at work, or a higher paycheck – you're almost there! Some Gemini's might feel as if they are being pulled in ma different directions too. Know that over this Taurus New Moon it's okay to say no or stay true to your own boundaries. You don't owe anyone anything. Other than owing yourself the life you've always desired! Finish up this cycle, Gemini! You got this in the bag!

Libra: 2 Of Wands - There are decisions to be made about the future, Libra. Are you ready to take the leap of faith towards your goals and success? You're making plans for a better future in general. You're planning to be smarter in terms of business or just providing for yourself. Libras are not going to be taking no for an answer when it comes to their dreams any longer – no. You're deciding to start taking the bull by the horns to achieve what you really want. Some Libra's will have a change of heart from what they originally thought that they wanted or needed. I'm hearing, “What I thought I wanted, I don't actually want.” Interesting, Libra! Don't feel scared to change course! Just because you might have invested a lot into one path doesn't mean you should continue down it if it no longer resonates with your story (and who you are!)

Aquarius: Knight Of Coins – You're taking your shot, Aquarius, and it's looking to be a Bullseye! Trust in your talents and know that you have all of the resources to be able to accomplish your dreams. You're leaping into success, but The Universe also wants you to pace yourself as you're going forward. Yes it's good to keep pushing forward, but it's important to aim before you decide to shoot your arrow. Meticulousness is your biggest friend right now! Make sure to weigh all the pros and cons before making decisions as well. Some Aquarians might notice themselves having the Mitas Touch going forward! Everything you touch will be Gold, and you're going to really be bringing in that coin! In any event, whatever you're moving towards, Aquarius, is going to provide you with a new level of stability. Get excited!!

WATER: Justice – Divine Justice is coming your way, Water Signs! Are you ready for a major shift in your favor? Something you've waited for is finally coming full circle. For some, it's as if the Universe kept you in the dark so that when this finally got to you it would be a surprise. You're also being asked to get your life back in balance where it might not be. Getting back into your own equilibrium is going to give you better perspective as well. For other Water Signs your friends might be helping to give you insight on what is happening behind the scenes. There might be one friend in particular that is going to confide a secret in you. I feel this is going to be something that they haven't told anyone, so really hold this close. For one Water Sign in particular, it feels as if someone is testing you to see what you would do in a certain situation. A Cancer/Libra pairing could potentially be important.

Cancer: The Sun – Happiness and joy are all yours, Cancer! You are going to feel lighter than you have in quite a while. It will feel exhilarating and will give you a pep in your step to accomplish your work throughout the week. You're going to be focusing on the bright side, and finding the silver linings even in the disappointments. Things as a whole will be illuminated in a way that highlights just how blessed and abundant you are. Some are going to be spending more time in nature, perhaps taking up a nice camping spot near a creek or river. Butterfly imagery is going to be sent to you as a sign from Spirit. Take note of what you were thinking about when you see one as it's a message! Enjoy this time, Cancer! And be at one with Nature for a while, if you can. (Even if it just means buying a new plant for your room!)

Pisces: 10 Of Coins – Success and Abundance are coming your way, Pisces! Are you ready to be financially comfortable and to finally have a leg up financially? Now is the time to start planning for any trips you would want to take as well, as your money is coming in fast. Is there somewhere you wanted to vacation? Or perhaps a local attraction you wanted to attend? Put yourself out there and seize the day, Pisces! The Universe also is saying that you are going to be receiving a lot more material items in your world as well. Some might be deciding to treat themselves to a shopping spree, a spa day, or perhaps you're getting cosmetics done such as a haircut. Whatever that might be for you, allow yourself to do it! Splurge on yourself and let yourself live in some lavishness. You are worth it after all, Pisces.

Scorpio: The Star – Scorpio, you are feeling hopeful that things are aligning the way that they are supposed to! Keep trusting in the Universe as your Manifestations are starting to trickle in. You might start to notice this over the next few weeks just how quick the Law Of Attraction works for you. You're feeling inspired to take care of your home space right now, Scorpio. You might be cleaning house and remaking you nest, so to speak. You're decorating and feeling compelled to bring more comfort into your space. Trust this and keep filling your space with things that bring your soul peace. For other Scorpio's, you're being asked to take Spiritual baths and and nurture yourself more. A few select Scorpio's will be feeling as though things are coming full circle with another individual as well. There might have been someone in the past who didn't want to give you the time of day, but now they're back. It's your call entirely, Scorpio.

FIRE: 9 Of Cups – A wish fulfillment is coming your way, Fire Signs! There is an energy of calm and peacefulness sweeping over all of you, and it will bring clarity. Whatever it is that will emotionally fulfill you, that you've been manifesting for a while now, it will be in your life sooner than you know it. Are you ready for the blessings that are going to be waiting for you? A few might be deciding to pick up a new instrument too, and this is going to widen your imagination. It will make you feel more inspired as well to accomplish your work and make that coin! For other Fire Signs, you are watching romance movies (or rom-coms) and imagining how wonderful it would be for someone to do these things for you. That person is coming! For one Fire Sign in particular, your person plays the guitar and will offer to serenade you. Let them, Fire Signs! And don't be embarrassed or shy away – you deserve a declaration of love worthy of your time!

Sagittarius: Knight Of Swords – You are making ground in your life fast, Sagittarius! You're achieving a lot, and it's really starting to show. People are noticing that you're holding yourself differently. You're feeling proud of all you've done over this Taurus New Moon. For some there is going to be communication coming in with someone that you've been waiting on. This might be someone who travels a lot, or someone who has just been focused on themselves and their own abundance. They have a lot to share with you, and it's going to intrigue you all that this person has to say. For some, this person drives a red or white car. Other Sagittarius are going to be in frequent communication with someone completely new that is entering your life sooner than you know it. This bodes well for those Sagittarius looking for a partner online or on apps! For other's you might be hearing important news in regards to your home life or finances. This is going to bring good fortune and blessings your way.

Leo: King Of Wands – You are feeling yourself, Leo! You're on top of the world, and you're excited about showing your passions to the world. You're feeling that you can take on anything and be successful at it. This is true! Spirit wants you to remember that anything you put your mind to you can accomplish over this Taurus New Moon! Some Leo's are being asked to take break and recuperate. You've been running on fumes for a while now, and Spirit needs you to recharge as your life will be speeding up even more over the next month. It will seem like everyone wants a piece of you, Leo! So get some much needed R&R before you have to get going again! Other Leo's might be deciding to branch out on your own in regards to career. Whether this be a lip gloss business, or a homemade bracelet business, you will do amazing! But remember to go for it! The majority of Leo placements will feel as if they are closing out a chapter of their life and entering a more stable footing. Don't doubt!

Aries: The Devil – Aries, you are going to be in your head a lot over this Taurus New Moon. There's something that you want to be doing, or hoped would come around, that perhaps you feel a bit bound to. For some Aries you might be deciding to start over fresh in your life, and undergo a transformation. Good for you, Aries!! Do it! There's also an energy though of being too hard on yourself, especially while trying to obtain this glow-up, and The Universe wants you to see this as a form of Self-Sabotage. Spirit is also saying, “If being critical about yourself didn't help or work, why not try being your best friend instead?” See how things change when you look at your life from a different perspective. Take a look objectively and know that you aren't as trapped as your Ego is trying to make you think you are. You are being guided by Spirit over this New Moon period to find sanctuary within yourself, and to be content with where you are. Practice yoga breathing as well as this will clear your mind. For those in a toxic relationship, The Universe is telling you not to be scared to release this. After all ; when one door closes, another one opens!

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adhd-demetri · 3 years

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First things first, love the new url, it's super you. Second are you working on the story for your oc? I actually want to read more on it -Jane

Yep and after thinking about it, if you have a twilight oc, message me and I'll add them into the story :) but this is it so far. Consider this a free sample

~Breaking news~

Things are getting pretty wild in ohio near cowan lake campgrounds. Two coyotes and wolf have been spotted in the area roaming around together wrecking havoc and panic. Biologists are baffled by the sudden appearance of a wolf in ohio with what is supposed to be their enemy.

No one knows where the trio came from but police and wildlife officials are urging people to haze them away and for parents of pets and children alike to keep a sharp eye on them.

Witnesses say they have been seen near dumpsters and trash cans tearing open bags of uneaten food-

-Click-

Demi turned off his phone as he took a bite out of a sub he and his mate had dug out of the dumpster. He snickered at the thought of him, his little brother and his mate 'wrecking havoc' over simply digging in dumpsters for goodies people through out. Like phone chargers, towels, clothing, sleeping bags and even small one person tents with easy fixes.

People are so wasteful. Throwing away perfectly good treasures. Oh well, they were now theirs.

Casper walked up behind him and threw down a tent that he just patched up. It was a cheap green and beige 4 person tent that had a hole in the roof of it. It wasn't nothing special truthfully.

"What do you think? Nice patch work right?" He said looking very proud of his work. Demi turned around and ran his fingers over the the patch, inspecting the delicate stitching and the vinyl that protected them from wear-and-tear.

"Looks good Cas, can't imagine why someone would get rid of this for a easy fix!" He shrugged, oh well. It now belongs to his younger brother.

As he got up from the forest floor, he dusted off the leaves and dirt that clung to the back of his pants. Grabbing the tent, he headed to Caspers car that was parked by an abandoned entrance way that led to overgrown trails leading to their little hideout.

"Hey alex. Check it out, Cas fixed you a tent. Now you can go camping with us instead of sleeping in the car." He said giving his 10 year old little brother the now fixed up tent.

Alex was sitting in the back playing mario kart tour on his phone. He glanced down quickly and laid his phone down. He picked up the tent bag and looked at its contents. His baby blue eyes started to widen with excitement.

"Th-this is for me? My own tent? Wow this is so cool!" The little blond was practically jumping up and down in his spot with pure joy and happiness radiating off of him. He was so happy to have his own tent finally.

"Yup, tonight Cas and I can teach you how to put it up and when we leave, take it down. Sound good?"

"Yes! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!" He suddenly slammed into Demi with a tight hug. Demi patted his head and pulled the excited child off of himself.

Alex went back to playing his game. Demi went back and sat on the ground to join Casper in the small clearing while he was redoing the zipper work on one of the sleeping bags. Casper nearly had this one finished up and planned on giving it to Alex since it had Kion and other lion guard characters on it. Casper concentrated as he worked on stitching the zipper to the sleeping bag.

"Soooo Alex loved his tent. Thank you for fixing it up for him."

"No problem. Seemed better than sitting in the car ya know? Oh hey look I finally got it stitched. You know these zippers are so hard to fix now a days." He said zipping up the bag and admiring his work.

He looked up and noticed the sun was starting to paint the sky in a beautiful array of oranges and pinks mixed with some purples and blues. The air felt slightly cooler than it did before.

Demi rolled his eyes and simply smiled.

He knew it was time to get going and head back to the campgrounds.

Casper followed right behind him and started up his car. They headed back to Cowan Lake campgrounds tenting area.

"Hey alex! Buckle up bud!" He yelled getting back up and getting into the car to leave.

The ride there was quite relaxing as the trio was simply jamming out to some music on their way to the campgrounds. They didn't have a care in the world it seemed.

They finally made it back to their spot. Alex quickly hopped out along with his tent and claimed a spot right next to where Demi and Casper's tent was. He started to pull everything out of the make shift bag that he had stuffed it in previously.

Demi quickly got out and ran to him. He didnt want Alex to lose anything.

"Hey bud slow down, We still got to help you put it up. Cas you want to get the fire going? We can roast some shmellows and some hot dogs. I'm starved!" Demi quickly started unraveling the tent and pulling out the poles, laying them nice and neat.

While they did that, Casper started up the fire. It roared to life after a few moments of poking and prodding it with fiery paper. He grabbed all the goodies, the roasting sticks and a mini table from his car.

The sun sunk down below the trees as the beauty of the moon rose to the sky. She bathed the area in a soft ghostly white glow.

Meanwhile Alex and Demi finally got his tent all nice and set up. It looked a little worn down but it was definitely still usuable.

"Hey who wants shmellows? We got some dogs that need roasting too!" Cas called out to Demi and Alex. He laid out the marshmallows and chocolate along side the hotdogs, gram crackers and bread. Alex and Demi joined him by the cozy fire grabbing a few bits of food and wolfing them down like ravenous animals.

Demi shushed him real quick. He didn't want to disturb others and cause any unnecessary commotion. The last time that happened didn't end well .... for the other person that is.

Around them other campfires crackled and popped while kids and couples alike told stories and roasted foods. Some saying goodnight while others stayed out.

"So when the fire goes out, do you two want to go on a run? I'm pretty sure that stupid Cullen family is out hunting and I do NOT want him near our area." Demi asked Casper and Alex.

Casper thought about it for a moment and mouthed I dont care while shoving a hotdog in his mouth. Alex simply shook his head yes as he ate a burnt gooey marshmallow.

"Yeah it's a full moon tonight! And I haven't ran with you guys in forever!" Alex shouted a tad bit to loud grabbing the attention of a few nearby campers.

"Let's wait till 10. Most of the other campers will be asleep and in their tents by then. It would be the perfect time to slip out." Demi said leaning into his mate's embrace.

No one screams at his little brother for being excited.

"Yeah, it has been awhile hasn't it? It's about time we run and get a good idea of how big our territory is too if this is our permanent home." Casper said.

Demi nodded in agreement as he got up. He went to his and Casper's tent and stripped down to just his incredibly warm out pants. He didn't care if these pants got destroyed while shifting. They've been through so much and it was time to finally to get rid of them.

Casper got up from his spot and joined Demi in the tent. He wrapped his arms around Demi's midsection, pulling him into a warm hug.

"So when you want to head out love?" He whispered.

They both sat down on their makeshift bed. Minutes passed as they simply stayed still together.

A sense of euphoria enveloped him. What a lovely feeling it was.

He got up quickly, peeking out of the tent entrance way.

Neither wanted this moment to end.

His little brother crossed his mind. He left him out there by the fire by himself!

Hide and seek

Thankfully the fire was dying since no one was paying it any attention.

His brother was lying down on the grass. His headphones over his head and his hand tracing the stars as he sang a familiar song quietly. His head bobbing in sync to the beat.

Reason and rhyme

Grand and glorious

Living the dream

yours and mine

~ Euphoria!

As he sand the last part, his arm fell to his side. A smile was spreading across his face as he lost himself in his own little world of euphoria.

Demi felt his body shift quickly. Thankfully his pants were worn enough to not make hardly any noise. Brown, orange and white fur littered from his skin quickly.

The feeling of happiness and joy could be felt radiating from him once again.

Demi sighed to himself, grateful his brother was ok.

"Everything alright love?"

"Yeah, just got worried about Alex but he's fine. He's in his own little world right now."

"I can tell. I can feel it from here."

Demi went back and sat down. He searched for his phone to check the time.

9:57 PM

All of the other campers were asleep by now. The only ones awake at this point was the trio.

Casper's body morphed as well. Silvery gray fur with white swirls that resembled a starry galaxy painted his skin. His body shifted and the shorts he had were ripped quickly.

And just like that, a coyote that could blend in with the autumn themed environment stood before Casper.

The air swirled around Demi. With it, The smell of wet leaves and smoke with sugary delights. Demi inhaled the savory scents before making his way to the child that was still relaxed on the grass.

And just like that, a wolf stood above Demi in the 10 person tent.

Giving his mate a quick nuzzle, Demi slowly crept outside the tent. He didn't want to wake anyone or draw attention to himself. He still had to get Alex into their tent.

Demi nudges Alex with his snoot, urging him to get up. Alex realised it was time and ran to his brother's tent as there would be no room to shift in his own.

Soon after a small blondish white coyote pup came out. His ears and tail were probably the most unique feature both the wolf and coyote have ever seen.

Casper ran out of tent to give Alex some privacy.

'So Cas, did you hear what they said about us on the news? They think we are trouble makers!

Just were the ears attach to the head, Alex's fur was a shiny metallic gold color. His tail was the same way.

He jumped up into the air and started to run a tad bit. The excitment seemed to rub off on Demi. He too started to jump around with his little brother. Together their energy seemed to wile them up even more.

With a burst of energy, the trio took off onto the road. Demi and Alex yipped along the way down the road. Casper's tongue lulled out of his mouth while he ran.

Alex on the other paw didn't want to go digging like his older brother. He was more interested in the playground that was close by and the toys that had been abandoned there as well.

Ha! Can you believe that? Let's give them real trouble!'

Cas nodded in response. He started to slow down as they approached the dumpsters. The overwhelming smell of garbage that has been marinating all day under a scorching hot sun wafted around the trio.

Demi charged ahead of them. He loved digging in the trash, all kinds of goodies people would throw out for no reason was calling his name!

He chased after his brother though.

2 notes · View notes

airquietworks · 5 years

Text

One for All, None for Heart (IzuOcha)

Summary: “Despite the millions of people he now held aloft, his hand longed for only one touch.” The greatest heroes must pave roads of sacrifices. To reach the top, there is room for little else. To become the Symbol of Peace, Deku forsakes his heart and his love. Will he continue his lonely existence or forge a new dream with the embers of his old flame?”

The autumn chill bit hard into his weary flesh.

It was enough to make Izuku want to curse, but he lacked the energy for even that. His steps were slow, the exhaustion mixing with the cold, making his breathing shallow. The world had closed in on him, giving him little room to maneuver and breathe.

But there was a light at the end of that tunnel, faint though it may be.

He finally arrived at his apartment and took a desperate lungful of air. The aches of his limbs cried out for attention, the siren call of the couch becoming too much to ignore. He quickly stripped off his outer jacket and burst into a brief sprint, collapsing onto the plush comfort of the couch cushions.

Izuku stayed like that for a while, closing his eyes, letting his mind fade into nothingness. There was a figment of peace at this moment, a lifeline of respite he could grasp. Everything was fine. He had helped people today, and he could rest now. Tomorrow was a long way away.

The emptiness of his home did not have to haunt him.

With a sigh, he stood up and stretched, his sore muscles aching. He busied himself with the monotony of flicking on the lights and starting on a bowl of instant ramen.

He lacked the energy to muster effort into his meal. The noodles lacked flavour, but they were pleasantly warm as he slurped them down his throat. It was enough to get him by for an evening, anyway.

He walked over to the couch, his eyes glancing over the photos in the wall of his living room. There were a few of his friends and former classmates. His mother and All Might too. But he frowned at the face he did not see. The face he could not bear a reminder of.

Izuku flicked on the television in front of him as he continued to scarf down his noodles.

"...on the streets once again. All twenty people in the building were rescued in time thanks to his timely efforts."

He frowned and changed the channel. He needed no reminder of today's events.

An image of three people around a tightly packed table in a studio, one of them wildly flailing his arms.

"There can be no doubt. This is the list where Deku finally breaks into the top-five!"

He changed the channel again.

There he was. Standing tall, muscles rippling beneath his costume, striking a pose with his fists at his hips. He beamed for the camera, his smile almost blinding. He could hardly recognize himself.

"...Thankfully, heroes and emergency officials responded well. It was a good team effort!"

His false bravado was almost convincing. He flexed his thumb to change the channel again, but the next question gave him pause.

"You've been seen more solo over the past few weeks. Uravity has not been around you. Do you have any comment on the rumours that you two have broken up?"

In unison, he and his television counterpart furrowed their mouths into a deep frown.

But whereas Izuku sunk deeper into the minimal comfort of the couch, Deku let out a belly laugh, trying to throw people off from seeing between the cracks in his facade.

"The gossip scene is working hard as ever. Well, I'll say what I always do: I don't comment on my personal life and I speak even less about the personal lives of others."

Did he have to sound that unbelievable? Nobody knowledgeable in heroes would ever buy that excuse. He should know.

"But what about -"

"I'm sorry, I really must be off. All sorts of paperwork to get to after this, you understand!"

He watched himself zip out of the screen, a fierce gust of wind in his wake. He felt bad about leaving the reporter in an awkward spot, but he had no choice. He would be digging his own grave if he stayed in that interview.

Izuku switched the channel again. A flash of familiar pink caught his eye, staying his thumb. He could not bring himself to change the tormenting lights dancing before him.

There she was, carrying an injured man in her arms, floating downward. She looked so graceful, moving with ease brought of experience. Her face was just barely visible beneath the visor of her helmet, her brown eyes focused on the ground, intent on landing gently. She was just as fierce as she had ever been, with or without him by her side.

"...Uravity also declined comment today after completing a rescue operation."

The camera cut to her standing up close, mimicking how he had appeared on the screen moments before. Her brown locks swayed in the wind, still somehow framing her face perfectly. The sweat on her brow was prominent, but she maintained a calm exterior despite the exhaustion she was likely under.

"I'm not getting into it." She shook her head, making no effort to hide her frown. "That's private."

The reporter's narration cut in, interspersed with more clips of Uravity helping people out of the rubble.

"What this means for Uravity is uncertain. Many have speculated whether being alongside Deku served as a boon to her own popularity. But we will get a better idea when the hero rankings-"

He flicked the switch and let the screen fall to darkness, his desire to avoid the nonsense outweighing his thirst for knowledge. The idea that Uravity was riding his coattails was simply absurd, but it was a narrative the media and hero forums had seized on.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, pinching at his temples. His weary limbs ached for the warmth of her touch to soothe him from the cries of the world.

But that could not be. The Symbol of Peace had to walk alone. He gave himself up to the world. It would be unfair to the world, and to her, to stretch himself any thinner.

The name she had changed would mark him forever. But their years of love were for naught against the ocean of villainy.

Izuku and Ochako could not be together while Deku and Uravity had a world to save.

A meteor streaked brilliantly across the sky, accentuating the long-perished stars. The world sang his praises, basking in him, as his image inspired their hearts.

"Deku! Deku! Deku!"

As he soared into the icy depths of space, they shouted the heroic name she had gifted him.

He beamed and waved at the crowd, his trademark smile large upon his face. He may be the world's greatest hero, looming on high above the populace, but he could still feel their warmth and adulation.

Deku did not bother blinking out the tears in his eyes. Their joy became his own. The world which had once stomped on his existence now loved him. The gravity of that shook him to his core.

But the cold grip of his shadows caressed him in his moment of triumph. The giants that had lifted him here loomed behind him, their might lifting him to the heavens. The torch they had passed him had taken so much sacrifice.

None of them were with him now. He had friends, family, and a world full of admirers. But his heart ached with untold loneliness, the weight of the world pushing him down as much as it lifted him up.

He wondered if this was how his predecessor felt. Was this feeling what it meant to be the world's greatest?

But as he looked out at the faces of the world, he knew this was an existence he would willingly bear. The Symbol of Peace was a lonely post, but if it meant happiness for them, he would gladly stand by it.

Izuku glanced backwards to the rest of the stage. His eyes wandered past the fuming Bakugo, the melancholic Todoroki, the polite applause of Tenya. His eyes fell on her, standing toward the end of the stage, clapping along with the rest of the world at the new number one.

Uravity had soared higher than anyone imagined, reaching number eight on the hero charts. She had beamed at the crowd as brightly as he had ever seen her, earning more applause than most of the heroes ahead of her. She too was amongst the stars now, enveloped by love, her light plastered on merchandise around the world.

Their eyes met. She gave him a familiar grin, this one meant just for him. Electricity sparked across his heart. His mind was suddenly pulled back into the pits of time, reminded of the day he had first fallen and glimpsed that smile. He blinked at her, just as nervous and confused as back then.

She had saved him from faltering that day. How much had that happened since they first met? How many times had he leaned on her? How often had she saved him?

Uravity was one with the power to lift anything to the skies, and she had certainly done that for him.

He had paid her back by casting her aside. But his gambit had worked. They both reached the pinnacle. The world's embrace blanketed them both in its warmth, while they acted as pillars to keep the world afloat.

Despite the millions of people he now held aloft, his hand longed for only one touch.

The branches of the trees had become barren as the season wore on, only a few scarce leaves clinging desperately to the branches. It was an ugly sight, so far from the beautiful red hues just a few short weeks ago.

Izuku walked the concrete path alone, his eyes lost amidst the spaces between the once vibrant treetops. How quickly beauty and warmth could fade, replaced by a bareness that reminded him far too much of the place he called home.

The path was devoid of any other signs of life, the stinging cold air scaring most people away this afternoon. It was the early days of real chill, where people were not yet accustomed to the end of summer. People would rather stay indoors, clinging to what warmth they could.

The bouquet of flowers in his arms weighed heavily on him, an artificial bloom amidst the dying leaves. This walk was never pleasant, especially alone, but Izuku felt compelled to make it just the same.

His eyes were focused on just one structure, towering high above the rest. It was fenced off and marked with a large statue, a familiar heroic figure towering above the rest. A rather peculiar monument for a grave, but one the world could hardly help giving their greatest hero.

Izuku made no fanfare as he walked to the monument. It was barren of flowers, but he knew it was cleaned regularly. All Might had no want of visitors, thanking him and hoping to find some inspiration.

He was no better a guest than any, placing the small bouquet gently in the placeholder in front of the grave.

Toshinori Yagi All Might 1956-2024 Symbol of Peace "Villainy shall never win So long as one can stand up for all Go beyond!"

"Plus Ultra," Izuku muttered in answer to the silent call, before standing up to look at the immortalized visage of his mentor.

"I did it, All Might. I finally made it to number one. I only wish you could have been there to see it. I couldn't have done it without you."

The wind howled around his ears, the petals of his bouquet rustling. There would be no other reply.

"I wonder…" his chilled lips pursed into a frown as he looked up at the larger-than-life image. "How did you feel when you finally got to this point? When you stood alone at the top?"

He sighed deeply as his questions fell to the blowing wind, doomed never to be answered.

"My hero agency is doing really well, too. There's a lot of great people I'm so proud of. And our class has really climbed fast, too. Kacchan is number two! He's still trying to surpass me every day."

He would always start rambling on in front of this statue. He was not sure why, but it was comforting. There was a nostalgia to it; it reminded him of his childhood when he so often had naught but the image of his hero to talk to.

"...Uraraka made it to number eight. She's…she's doing well too. She's been a lot better off since the split, I think."

Her name was strained on his tongue, the weight of the memories associated surging forward to pain him as he spoke.

"You never discouraged me from being with her."

The two of them, on their first date, awkward and fumbling. Fainting when it ended with a kiss. Waking to see All Might there, beaming.

"But I didn't see how I could anymore."

Stumbling through their shared apartment, muscles aching, eyes reddened with the tears of lost life. Her soft fingertips lifting him effortlessly. Finding solace with her in a nest of sheets and blankets.

"I made it to my dream. Every day, I am rewarded by the smiling faces of the people I help. It's what I always wanted, ever since I saw you."

Her smile towards him on the stage. His heart thrumming and his face flushing. She was so close, and yet a world away.

"So why do I feel this way? What would you do?"

The rush of the wind was his only answer. Scattered autumn leaves blew around in the air. One floated within arm's reach, and on an impulse, he grabbed hold of it.

It had a glorious red plumage, flaring wonderfully in its death. Its end was its most beautiful moment, even as it was cast aside from a tree's ritual of renewal. He took a moment to appreciate it: one of a kind, one of many.

He let it float gently to the ground, to become one with the Earth once more. It could be part of new life someday. There was hope in that.

"Midoriya?"

His eyes widened in shock as he spun around. There she was, adorned in a fluffy pink coat, holding her own bouquet of flowers and a small purse. She was stunning, as always.

It had been so long since he had talked to her.

"Ocha...Uraraka?" Izuku replied, catching his tongue on her first name. Old habits die hard. "What are you doing here?"

She glanced down at the flowers in her own hands, before moving her eyes back to his. She managed a small smile that made his heart beat just a little harder. "Same thing as you. I wanted to come and thank him."

She stepped forward and walked past him. Izuku felt the barest hint of something hit his heart as she trudged past him. Fear? Longing?

He watched as she stepped forward to lay her bouquet in a placeholder by the grave. She looked up at the statue, putting her hands together and closing her eyes. She remained still for a couple of minutes while Izuku watched, frozen in the cold air. She nodded and smiled silently, before springing back up.

"So…" she trailed off, approaching him with a warm smile. "Do you want to go get a coffee?"

He knew it could be the death of him. But how could he refuse?

"You should have seen how much all the fansites exploded that day!"

"Oh?"

"'Uravity pulled 20 people out of water at once and it was the coolest thing ever!'" Izuku enthusiastically recounted, pitching his voice down an octave to imitate one of the many reaction videos he saw out that day. "People were flipping out! And then when you ended that villain's monologue with one punch right after!"

Her soft laughter was nostalgic music to his ears. "I can't believe that was already a year ago."

"Time sure flies," Izuku agreed, taking a sip from his cup.

It was the most exquisite torture, being alone with her again. They fell easily into an imitation of their friendship. It stirred powerfully warm feelings within him, but the walls between them made those emotions hurt. Still, he enjoyed reminiscing about their exploits.

Of course, they had kept in touch over the years since they separated. Group outings made sure of that, and there were some events even buried feelings could not come between.

"How are your folks holding up since the move?" Izuku asked with a smile, recalling the joyous celebration when Ochako achieved her dream.

"Quite well, thank you," Ochako replied, the mention of her parents making her beam. "I actually convinced them to take a world tour. They just got into New York."

She pulled out her phone and quickly tapped her fingers onto it, swiping them across the screen. She held it out to him, showing an image of two elderly-looking people smiling for the camera, Statue of Liberty looming distantly in the background.

"Oh wow! That's awesome!"

"It is," she replied softly, pulling the phone back into her lap and smiling at the picture. "That they're able to do this…it's all I've ever dreamed of."

"I'm happy for them. For you."

There was a beat of silence between them as they both sipped their coffee in unison, the conversation starting to peter out. As their energy faltered, the walls seemed to loom ever higher between them.

"Hey...Deku?"

Izuku's ears perked at her old nickname for him. She had stopped referring to him that way since they parted, both of them choosing to regard each other with an icy formality.

"What is it?" he asked, glancing up to focus on her face. Her gorgeous smile had set, replaced with a serious frown that reminded him of darker days.

"Can I…" she stopped herself, taking a bracing breath. "I just...do you ever...do you ever think about when we were together anymore?"

His heart flew into a rushing freefall. He gulped in the wake of the poisonous question, poised to eviscerate his insides.

"Sometimes," he managed, darting his eyes to stare firmly at the tabletop. He was pretty sure looking at her face right now would end him.

There was another beat of deathly silence between them. Izuku tensed and he started trying to calculate a strategic excuse to end this conversation. Maybe he could quickly text someone from his agency, get them to call so he could have an escape.

As his hand moved to the phone in his pocket, Ochako spoke again.

"...I...I want to try something, Deku. But I need your help. Would...would you?"

He had to strain his ears to hear her over the bustle of the cafe around him. Her voice was so vulnerable and a part of him, small but growing louder by the second, desperately wanted to do everything in his power to bring her good spirits back.

"What is it?" It was the best answer he could manage.

"I need you to look at me. Then close your eyes." There was a spark of fierceness in her voice. It scared him.

Izuku dared to look up. Her eyes held a blazing intensity, the war face she wore contrasting strangely with the casual setting. She was leaning slightly over the table as if preparing to attack him. Or worse.

His brain shut down. Her eyes captivated him. He did not know what was happening, but he nodded. His body moved on autopilot, his eyes shutting closed, bracing himself for the worst.

The world seemed to fade around his eardrums. He could hear his heart, beating intensely. A screech of metal against tile. The table, moving slightly. A breath against his lips.

The press of lips to cheek.

An electric shock coursed through his system. He tensed at the familiar feeling of flesh on flesh and the memories that surged with it.

It was soft and innocent like the chaste kisses of their youth, products of the lovely fumbling of two clueless children. This kiss was most like that, but it stirred within him the passion he had done his best to suppress.

The familiar feeling of her lips somehow reminded him of the inferno that could rage between them, when love and desperation mixed together, nerve endings becoming live wires, threatening to turn him into a happy pile of ash.

In that endless instant, Izuku experienced the ferocity of a thousand such moments buried in his mind. It froze him in place, the fire burning him into a stony stillness.

She departed him again. He kept his eyes closed for a moment. There was no bliss when he finally opened his eyes; only a downcast woman, cheeks just a little rosier.

He wanted to say something meaningful, or witty, or anything to assuage her, but he found himself paralyzed. He could not give her the answers he did not know himself.

"I'm sorry, Deku. That must have been awkward for you. I...this was a bad idea, I don't know why…" she looked into his eyes, her mouth curling further downward. "I was being ridiculous."

It occurred to him she might be thinking he did not like what just transpired. Which, he realized, may not actually be inaccurate.

"I…Uraraka, I'm sorry but...I don't know."

He felt a strong urge to whack his own head for failing to speak anything more than that. The right words would not come.

"That's fine, Izuku. It wasn't fair of me to hope otherwise." She lifted her head up, her mouth twisting around into something resembling a smile. It was fake, he knew. But he lacked the courage to call it out.

"You know, all this time, even as we both kept climbing to the top, a part of me was always wondering. If I could have done something differently. If it was worth it, in the end. So many nagging questions."

"Me too. Uraraka…"

"But I didn't let that get in the way. I was never going to let my feelings get in the way of me accomplishing my dreams again. And neither were you. And we both did it, didn't we?" She flashed him a more genuine grin. He tried to do the same, but it was warbly, his mouth quivering.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking about where I want my life to be. What I want to work towards now. I'm still not sure." She pulled something small out of her purse and put it forward on the table. Izuku watched, not registering what it was she placed, so focused was he on her every word.

"A long time ago, my dad told me I shouldn't wait for things. If I wanted to make them happen, I had to seize the opportunity. You showed me that, more than anyone. I wouldn't have made it without you, Deku. I...I have to thank you, from the bottom of my heart for that."

He gulped. "You're welcome."

"I was so tired of waiting that I...well, I did something silly, back then. I never stopped holding onto this, you know. But it's weighing me down more and more."

Izuku glanced down at what exactly she had presented before him. His eyes opened wider at the soft, dark green square, a box wrapped in fine material.

"I was going to give you this a while ago, but never had the chance. And after what happened...I just kept it. But I don't think I can keep it anymore. And I don't know why, but I couldn't...I couldn't bring myself to throw it away. It would be like throwing away everything we went through together."

Izuku watched as she sat up higher in her seat, her fist rising up in front of her, her brown eyes blazing.

"And no matter how much it hurts, I never want to forget what we went through together. Even if it wasn't meant to be. Those memories mean a lot to me."

Her figure sagged after her brief burst of energy and she sighed again, looking up at him between her eyelashes.

"They mean a lot to me too, Uraraka. More than I can say."

She smiled at that.

"I'm sorry about all this, I just...I think I needed this. To sort things out. To close this door the last little way. To stop pretending we could be together again."

"Uraraka…?"

"No matter what, Deku, I want to stay friends." She beamed as she stood up, her features flashing brighter than the sun. "I-"

A sharp buzz from her pocket. She instinctively reached in to grab her phone, moving with practised precision. "Now, of all times?"

"What is it? Something happening?" He seized on the tone of her voice, pulling out his own phone to see if there were any emergency alerts. Duty often called at the worst times.

"Agency call. Intern got overzealous on a theft and they need me to run damage control." She groaned, letting herself slack in her chair. "Of all the rotten luck."

"When isn't it?" Deku joked. A frightened, weary part of him was desperately glad for the interruption. This was a conversation he could handle.

"I gotta go," she said, quickly getting up out of her seat and throwing change on the table. "Don't...we…"

She paused as she put her arms into her coat, looking down at his face. He shrunk a little under her gaze, unable to meet it head-on. His head was lost in a raging storm, her stare piercing him like lightning.

"Well, we can pick this up another time, maybe. If you want. See you later, Deku."

Without another word, Uraraka disappeared from his life once again. He watched as her figure disappeared through the doorway, her back growing ever farther away. She was impossible to reach.

Izuku closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, trying to steady his heart rate. It would do him no good to get upset. He had not dealt with that conversation well. He had not dealt with that kiss well.

He cracked a deprecating smile at his own inadequacy. Maybe he had grown less than he thought.

Being with her had all stirred things deep within him he had been trying to forget. It bubbled into a harsh anxiety as he dared to reach a hand out to the mysterious case in front of him.

Izuku steeled himself against the emotions threatening to burst out of him. No matter how she made him feel, nothing was that simple. There were so many responsibilities he had to consider before even dreaming of rekindling his love. He had to stay logical. It was not meant to be.

He opened the box. He saw the glint of silver and the world faded around him.

Visions burst forward at the sight of the simple, practical, silver ring sitting in the box. Every feeling he had been holding back blasted through the walls erected in his mind.

Ochako walking toward him in a simple, white dress, arm-in-arm with her father.

Dancing with her while their friends and family watched, the rest of the world far away, the distance between them nothing.

Laughing with her on a beach, somewhere tropical, far away from prying eyes and cameras.

Fighting by her side, punching out villains, seamlessly coordinated in every motion.

Taking a baby from her arms, staring down at a tiny little human, his own eyes looking back up at him.

Scrambling to grab a camera as Ochako watched over their child taking her first steps. Ochako's cheery encouragement made the walls of their home sing.

Watching the television, grey-haired, her by his side, reminiscing about their days atop the hero world.

Walking with her, hand in hand, their children close behind. Their friends all waving to them happily, their own kids running around the grassy hills. They reunited under the brilliant colours of the autumn trees.

The images faded into the darkness of his mind. His eyes watered, forcing him to blink out the blurry focus of the world.

The blessed life he had surrendered faded from view. All of it twisted and collapsed into the piece of metal in front of him.

He clutched his right hand to his chest, shaking, feeling his heart racing intensely. He wanted what he imagined more than he could comprehend.

Izuku openly wept, not caring about any of the confused stares he earned by doing so. He wept at the time wasted alone. He wept at the life of possibilities, hanging on by the slimmest of threads. He wept, like that day with All Might so long ago, when the road to a dream once closed opened wide before him.

He reached a shaking hand out to the ring. Could he really take it? Nothing about their circumstances had changed. The world would still try to tear them apart. As the Symbol of Peace, there might be little peace for them. Being together would be very difficult.

Was this something he was really willing to do?

Izuku took another deep breath. He blinked the tears out of his eyes and stared intensely at the ring. Being together might be difficult, but he had faced worse. There was a new dream he desperately wanted in front of him. He had to seize it.

He had to go beyond.

Without thinking further, Izuku paid for his drink and grabbed the box, plunging it into his pocket. He sprinted out of the cafe before causing a stir by leaping up into the sky with his quirk. He had to get to her.

The questions swarmed in the back of the mind, stinging him for this insanity. Did he want this? Could he pay the price? Did he comprehend the sacrifices this would take? Could he commit to being with her?

Did he still love Ochako more than anyone?

I do. I do. I do. I do.

I do.

AN: Written for the IzuOcha Discord server's writing competition for the prompt "Autumn."

Thank you to Deadliest Sin Bin from there for editing this. This was a challenge to keep under 5,000 words, but a good challenge. Still, I’ll be posting two deleted scenes separately as a result.

Hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a like and a reblog if so!

#IzuOcha #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #Fanfiction #shipping #angst #IzuOchaTemple #romance #My Hero Academia #Boko no hero academia #This is angst as heck but I hope you liked it #One-shot

116 notes · View notes

thefandomlesbian · 5 years

Note

Do u take requests for oneshots? If so, can I ask for a shaudrey smut one? Or a bananun tlag universe smut?

I was planning on writing both, but I already have one TLaG smut piece posted (read it here), and there’s smut in TLaG chapters 44 (here), 45, and 47 (not yet posted. I also have another prompt for TLaG smut in my inbox which will be written/posted soon. There isn’t going to be a shortage of TLaG smut available when I finally work through the prompts and bring the story up to date, and I don’t want to exhaust them since I am writing a sequel. However, if there’s something more specific you’d like to see from TLaG universe, let me know, and I’ll see what I can do. For that reason, I decided to go with Shaudrey smut alone, especially because I haven’t written much with them.

As usual, read on AO3 for best experience!

...

“Wake up, say good morning to

That sleepy person lying next to you.

If there's no one there, then there's no one there.

But at least the war is over.” -Stars, “In Our Bedroom After the War”

...

The flickering fluorescent lights of the police station illuminated the interrogation room in a crepuscular-type shadow. Blood dribbled out of Audrey’s mouth as she leaned forward. “May we leave now, Officer?” Her voice cracked. It was the voice of a broken woman. She hung her head where she sat beside Shelby. “We’ve told you everything we know. We just--” Beside her, Shelby hiccuped through another dry, heaving sob. The police had taken them into custody after the hospital released them. “I just want to go home, now.”

The officer’s dark eyes darted across the table to Shelby. “We have reviewed the footage taken from inside the Roanoke house, Mrs. Miller--”

“Miss.” Shelby had never looked so gray, but she corrected him nonetheless. The surface of her eyes shimmered. She did not shed another tear. She had cried enough to dehydrate herself. “It’s Miss Miller.”

He cleared his throat and shuffled the papers in front of him. “Of course. Miss Miller. We have decided, in light of the footage we recovered, to make no arrests at this time.” A shiver passed through Shelby’s body. Audrey touched her shoulder. Shelby shrugged her off. “However, I advise you to stay close by and contact a lawyer. I feel it would be wise for you to be prepared for the worst case scenario. You may need to appear before a grand jury to decide if you ought to be indicted.”

Audrey stiffened in her chair. “You can’t be serious!” Her rank, greasy clothing hung from her body with its gross bloodstains and oil marks. “As much as we’ve been through--you’re trying to decide if Shelby committed a crime?” Shelby’s blue eyes averted, clinging to the stark, gray tile floor. She didn’t move in response to Audrey’s outburst. She hadn’t moved much since the police had recovered her from the scene. Maybe holding still made her feel closer to death, closer to Matt. I wish I were closer to Rory. Audrey’s throat closed up. She had swallowed so much blood that her stomach ached. “Do you even hear yourself? What else does the footage show? Our friends--our husbands being haplessly tortured and murdered! While no one checked on us! No one even bothered to notice that all of us were dying!”

“Audrey,” Shelby whispered, placating her, and Audrey gave an infuriated huff.

The police officer blinked as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Be that as it may, Miss Tindall--”

“Mrs. Tindall,” she corrected icily.

He bit back a sigh. “I extend my sympathies to both of you, and it is my hope that we will not be forced to press charges against anyone. As far as I’m concerned, the guilty people are no longer with us.” Audrey sat up a little taller, assured with herself, but the officer held up a hand. “However, Mrs. Tindall, it is not my decision to make. And until I have explicit instructions to arrest one of you…” As he said this, he looked at Shelby again, and Audrey knew he had seen the footage of Shelby killing Matt. “…you’re both free to go. I’ll be in touch, ladies.”

The cool air of mid-October stung on Audrey’s exposed arms as she stepped out of the police station. She folded her arms across her chest. Her blouse was torn in places. The inside of her mouth tasted sour. The empty place where she had once had a tooth ached and tasted badly. The hospital had packed the bleeding area of her gum with cotton, but she had pushed it out with her tongue by accident, and now it tasted like the smell of a menstrual pad that had been worn overnight. Beside her, in the low evening light, Shelby hovered, her eyes downcast. Audrey scanned her once. “I called an Uber.” Blue eyes darted to her in the moonlight. Shelby’s haggard face regarded her with wary surprise. “Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”

The question begged an answer from Shelby--a verbal answer, more than the single quipped words she had provided since she emerged from hell in one piece. Her lips parted, but her voice didn’t come out. Audrey waited. “I…” She had a strong, low voice, something Audrey had struggled to replicate when performing, but now, she sounded so utterly defeated. The unyielding glint of steel in her eyes had died. “My mother is coming from Los Angeles to get me.” She lifted her gaze to the sky. All of the stars reflected in her eyes. The moonlight shone on her face and glimmered through her pale, tangled, greasy hair. “She’ll be here in a few days. She didn’t want to fly, in case someone recognizes me on the plane…”

She didn’t look at Audrey, but Audrey couldn’t take her eyes off of her. “What about tonight?” Audrey asked again.

The night breeze ruffled their tattered clothing. Shelby crossed her arms. Goosebumps appeared all over her limbs. “I don’t know,” she whispered. Audrey tiptoed nearer to her, placing a tender hand on her bicep. Shelby flinched, but she didn’t shake her off. “I… I suppose I’ll go get my car, and… and go somewhere.”

All of the hair on the back of Audrey’s neck stood up. She knew Shelby had parked her car somewhere near the house. Audrey didn’t want her to go back, ever. “I have a hotel.” The moonstruck eyes moved from the immensity of the universe to Audrey’s face. “You can stay with me until your mother comes… I hardly have anywhere else to go.” It was the hotel room she had rented with Rory. They had reserved it for the days when they would be at the house so they had somewhere to leave their belongings--after all, neither of them were hurting for money. Audrey touched her throat with a few absent fingers. “I imagine it will be a few days before I can arrange a flight home.”

Audrey had a lot of wealth and a lot of power, but even she couldn’t alter flight schedules. She was trapped here a few nights more. Shelby looked back at the sidewalk, shuffling her feet through the cigarette butts there on the cracked pavement. She gave a broken nod. “That… That would be nice. Thank you.” Audrey wrapped her hand around the inside of Shelby’s wrist. Shelby flinched. All of the muscles in her forearm tensed. Through her thin, pale skin, the wrist bones shifted, and the muscles pulled taut, and in a tight voice, Shelby said, “Please, don’t.” She pulled away. A harsh breath hitched in her throat. “Please. I don’t… I can’t have that right now.”

Can’t have what? Audrey pursed her lips at Shelby’s confusing behavior. I want a hug. She wanted, wanted so desperately, to grab onto Shelby and hold her and never let go--Shelby had been there. Shelby knew. Shelby understood. But, withdrawing her hand, she nodded. “Alright. I’m sorry.” The side of Shelby’s face intrigued her, mostly because Shelby wouldn’t look at her in the eyes. “You’re quiet.” Shelby shrugged, gazing down at the cigarette butts. She twisted the toes of her shoes over one of the dark clots of ashes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Shelby shook her head. Audrey didn’t know what else she had expected. Shelby had always been private; the lifestyle of the limelight had not appealed to her, how everyone invaded her personal life, and Audrey didn’t hope for her to change now, even when Matt was gone. But the cold breeze caused her to shiver. I wish I had a coat to give her. Something about watching Shelby stand there, formerly so proud and now so defeated, broke a part inside of Audrey. She wouldn’t admit it, but she felt she knew Shelby on some special level from the months she had spent acting as her. Watching Shelby, the woman whose mind she had tried to enter, hang her head in defeat made Audrey hang her head, as well.

The Uber parked beside them on the sidewalk. “Are you Audrey?” The man behind the wheel spat his tobacco into a cup. “Hop on in. What kind of music you want? You want some candy? Some bottled water?”

Before, Audrey always accepted whatever they offered, but today, she shook her head. “No, thank you.” She knew the dangers of the world, now. “C’mon, Shelby.”

The ride was silent save for the radio. Audrey didn’t recognize any of the songs. Shelby stared out the window. The streetlights illuminated her face and her ragged hair. Shadows passed through it like a sheer curtain. Audrey wanted to touch it, but she restrained herself. Still, she couldn’t pull her gaze off of Shelby’s ethereal face cast in the silver glow of the navy night. They had survived. But her eyes are so dead, Audrey thought despondently. She put her hand in the middle of the seat between them, giving a silent prayer that Shelby would take it. She needed human touch.

The last person who had touched her willingly was Rory. Audrey closed her eyes and turned her face away. Her body couldn’t decide between ripping every last essence of him from her skin or clinging to every mark he had left on her life. She didn’t know if she wanted to strip him away from her to avoid the pain or remember every joy he had brought her, however brief, however fleeting, in the few months they had been married. The ring on her left hand was heavy. With her hand in her lap, she reached with her thumb and spun the ring around on her digit. The skin there was still freshly sore from the new jewelry. She hadn’t yet acquired a permanent mark on her skin where it had been discolored. What would be left when she took off the ring? How would anyone look at her and know? Did she want them to know? Did she want to know? Or did she want to forget? Forgetting wouldn’t hurt so much. Forgetting him, the sound of his laugh, the dimples of his smile, the way his large hands made her body feel so small and young again…

Audrey was old, she knew, by a lot of people’s standards. But she was still far too young to be a widow--especially when she had never expected to be a widow at all.

“What are you going to do?” she had asked him once. “What are you going to do when I’m old and bedridden and you’re still a spry gentleman in your sixties? What are you going to do when I’m gray and frail and you’ve got bachelorettes half your age hurling themselves at you? What are you going to do when your colleagues are astute men bringing their fine wives bouquets to the Academy Awards and you’re alone because your date is six feet under the dirt, an ocean away?”

Rory’s smile reflected the sunlight. The California sun was Rory in some way. He drank in the rays of light and reflected them even more brightly. Audrey wished she could turn his smile into a solar battery--surely it could power the whole world. His messy auburn hair stuck up in all directions. She reached to smooth a lock of it down, but he took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m going to be beside you,” he assured her, “until I can’t be beside you anymore. And then I’ll wait to meet you again. Because I believe in any universe, we are meant to be together. And I believe in any world, I’ll find you again.” He held her hand to his face. The skin of his cheeks was smooth, stripped of any beard stubble, and she marveled at the childishness inside of his eyes. “I want you to be my wife, Audrey. People don’t have expiration dates. And neither does my love for you.”

A soft hand brushed up against the back of hers. Audrey jumped out of her reverie with a yelp. The back of Shelby’s hand rested against hers. Shelby regarded her with her pale eyes glowing silver under the city lights. She didn’t ask any questions, nor did she reach to take Audrey’s hand. She merely looked at her with wide eyes and rosy lips parted in concern. Audrey nodded to her. She didn’t have the words, but she didn’t need them right now. Shelby didn’t need any words. Is this where she’s been all night? Thinking about Matt? Audrey found that hard to believe. Matt had cheated on her. He didn’t deserve her. I would never do something like that to her. The thought pattern didn’t strike her as odd as it crossed her mind.

Shelby was a good person, a good wife. Parts of her had irritated Audrey, where she defended herself sleeping with Dominic or delivered the old line, “It’s never too late for love,” which Audrey had heard enough times to chafe her ossicles. But she hadn’t deserved this. Neither of them had deserved this. No one had deserved it. And yet, here we all are.

The face of the hotel brought her some comfort. “Thank you,” Audrey said to the driver as she slid out of the vehicle after Shelby. The steps loomed above them. She led the way inside. Shelby stuck close to her side, eyes averted but clinging to her presence like she feared the night wind would separate them from one another. Audrey took the stairs to her room and unlocked it with a swipe of her keycard.

The door swung open. There was a single bed, sloppily made. Rory’s coat was draped over one of the pillows; he had realized on the way to the studio that he had forgotten it, but they were running late, so he had chosen to leave it behind. Audrey closed her eyes. I wish he had taken it. I wish I had lost it with the rest of him. Shelby tiptoed around her. Her hand brushed against Audrey’s clothing and jostled them.

Shelby moved around the room. Audrey could hear her every movement. She dropped things, packed things away, zipped up bags, adjusted things, opened doors, closed them. “It’s okay now.” She had moved everything. His shoes, his coat, his open suitcase, his antiperspirant, his shampoo, his razor, his toothbrush--everything. Audrey’s chin trembled. I have to go through everything. Shelby approached her again. Her blue eyes carried so many emotions. Audrey closed her eyes again to avoid seeing them. She didn’t want to feel things right now. She didn’t want to have any responsibilities right now. “We don’t need anything tonight. We can start again tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. She would wake up tomorrow, and she would know a new world wherein Rory did not exist. The words didn’t sound optimistic from Shelby. As she blinked up into Shelby’s eyes, she found nothing but despair there--the thought of a tomorrow without her forever traumatized her just as much as Audrey. “I don’t want a tomorrow without him.”

She didn’t know why she wasn’t crying. Her eyes burned with tears. But she had shed too many for one night. “Neither do I.” Shelby stared down at the carpet. “But I don’t think we were given a choice.”

Audrey grabbed her hand. This time, Shelby didn’t pull away. She tensed, but then she forced herself to ease; Audrey watched the process on her face. I shouldn’t force her. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. “Do you want to shower first?” Pale eyes flickered to her face. Shelby shook her head. She nodded in the direction of the bathroom, inviting Audrey to go ahead. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” When she was naked the last time, she had been with Rory. Rory always made her feel beautiful. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing herself in the mirror again without him.

She didn’t think she could be alone without hearing the voices of the Polk family in her mind. If in solitude, the shower water would become Rory’s blood dripping from the trees, from his disemboweled corpse, all over her face. She shuddered at the thought. Shelby placed a hand on her shoulder. “Together?”

It was a bare whisper, a suggestion, a question. Audrey almost didn’t understand it. But her head bobbed in agreement.

The bathroom light had a dimmer. Shelby put it on its lowest setting--just light enough for them to see more than total blackness in the room, just enough to make out the little bottles of shampoo and the tiny bars of soap. Audrey turned her back as she stripped her mangled clothes off of her body and dropped them into a heap on the floor. She had no intention of having them washed. She would throw them away. Her blouse had bloodstains. Her slacks were torn. The underwire of her bra had begun to pop out. Her underwear smelled like she hadn’t changed them in days--she hadn’t.

“Will you help me?” Audrey turned at the abrupt sound of Shelby’s voice. One hand reached the buckle of her bra in back, but her injured shoulder, the wound which the hospital had cleaned and bandaged, refused to bend for her to unfasten it. Her hand pawed at her lower back to no avail. Her fingers danced along the brown moles and freckles on her skin there. I never would have thought she had moles. Shelby’s fingernails scraped against them in absent patterns as she fumbled. The clasp was out of reach, no matter how she tried to bend. She hissed through her teeth in pain. “Please?”

The second word knocked Audrey awake from her dreamland, admiring all of Shelby’s exposed skin. “Yes, yes, of course.” She unclasped the bra from the catch. It fell from Shelby’s shoulders. The inexplicable urge rose within Audrey to rise to her tiptoes and peek over her shoulder to look at her breasts like a curious child. Instead, she focused on the bandaged wound. Shelby picked at the tape and removed it. “Are you sure you should remove that?”

“I shouldn’t get the dressing wet. I can replace it once it’s dry.”

“Did they tell you it was okay to shower?”

“I smell like garbage. I’m not going to not shower.”

Audrey didn’t have an argument for that. They were both covered in dirt and blood and sweat and death--she swore the stench of death still clung to both of them, to their clothing, to their hair, to their breath, like it would crawl out from their armpits or thigh brows and attempt to strangle them once again. Death had reached for them more times than she cared to consider. Death had reached out its greedy arms. Somehow, she and Shelby had escaped by folding up themselves small and quiet in the back corner of the room of life, and the straining fingers had missed them. As they clung to the walls in hiding, their cowardice spared them. Rory had not been so lucky. Rory had always been too brazen for his own good.

Steam filled the room when she pulled the nozzle for the shower head. Audrey tugged the curtain back and averted her eyes as she waited for Shelby to step under the hot water. Shelby covered her chest with her arms. She stood in the corner of the shower, the water only landing in her hair and rolling down the rest of her body. The urge to look rose within Audrey, but she smothered it and kept her back facing Shelby, as well, mere inches away from one another but minds world apart. Shelby’s body so near to hers stirred a foreign emotion in the pit of her gut which made her feel queasy. She glanced over her shoulder.

Smattered freckles warmed her heart and drew her attention. Her eyes slid lower to the round cups of her ass. Like a child with poor impulse control, she wanted to swat Shelby’s butt. But then she watched how Shelby struggled to reach her hair. “Let me.” She had worked the shampoo into her greasy locks, but she couldn’t manage all the way to the roots and the tips with her injured shoulder.

“You don’t have to. My hair is gross.”

“Nonsense.” I have an excuse to touch you. Audrey squirted more of the tiny shampoo bottle contents in her hand and lathered it up into the white foam through Shelby’s pale locks. At the roots of her hair, she scraped her fingernails against her scalp. A tick clung to her. Ew. Audrey plucked it off between her fingernails and tossed it down the drain. I bet I’ve got some, too. She had spent more time in the woods than Shelby, after all. Gross. She peeled Shelby’s locks apart, checking her for more bugs, but she found nothing. For good measure, she scrubbed her scalp with her nails.

To her surprise, Shelby lifted up her head into the scratching. “Thank you…” A soft sigh fluttered from between her lips. “That feels nice.” A drowned spider washed out from between her strands of hair. Audrey said nothing. Before, she would have screamed--undoubtedly, if she had ever washed a bug out of Rory’s hair, he would have had to coax her back into sharing a bed with him again. She might have seen it as grounds for a divorce. I’m in love with you, but I can’t take bugs, she would have said. But now, she had seen much worse than a spider in someone’s hair.

The thick suds washed out of Shelby’s hair all gray and discolored, leaving her hair a brighter shade, carrying a cleaner scent. Audrey took a step back. To her surprise, Shelby bumped her to turn around. “Let me.”

“You’ve only one arm.”

“You’ve got short hair. How many arms do I need?”

Her American accent was so cute. Audrey didn’t have the heart to laugh, but a tiny, inauthentic smile broke her expression. She bowed her head into Shelby’s light touch. The soap raked through her hair as Shelby worked it into her hair and her scalp. Something pinched the top of her head. “You’ve got ticks--they’re all over. Hold still.” Oh, great. She should have anticipated her evening foraying out in the woods like some kind of mountain man would leave her bug-ridden. Shelby carefully parted her hair. She stood on her tiptoes to get a clear view of the top of Audrey’s scalp. She pinched another tick off by its head. It tugged Audrey’s hair. “Lean back for me.”

The task had occupied Shelby’s problem-solving mind. Audrey tilted her head back. Shelby plucked another insect from the hollow at the bottom of her skull. As she stood on her tiptoes, pressing nearer to see behind Audrey’s ears and on the flat top of her head, her breasts touched Audrey’s back. Her teeth sank into the tip of her tongue to keep her from hitching a breath. “Sorry,” Shelby said as Audrey hissed in pain at the sharp pulling on her hair. “That one was hanging on. Will you lift up your arms? They’re all over your back.”

Reluctantly, Audrey lifted her arms. “I found one on you, too.” Shelby pinched another one off of her shoulder blade and then from the small of her back and then her armpit and her side and her hip. Shelby’s tender fingertips rested on the top of her buttock as she plucked another tick off of her. Must I? She spun at Shelby’s instruction, eyes closed to keep the shampoo from running into them--the bugs had distracted Shelby from her task of washing Audrey’s hair. Audrey rinsed the soap suds from her hair and blew her wet bangs out of her eyes. She opened her eyes, intent on telling Shelby to spin as some petty form of revenge. But Shelby pressed one hand to Audrey’s abdomen.

The hand landed just below her left breast, framing it and her bottom ribs as she intently leaned down with both eyes on Audrey’s tummy. This time, Audrey couldn’t prevent the taut breath from tightening in her chest. Shelby’s fingers flicked up the butt of a tick attached beneath the xiphoid process of her sternum. Audrey held her breath. Shelby had bent over. Her round rump protruded with the cellulite jiggling with every slight shift she made. The ridges of her spine were visible, not quite protruding but not covered, either. One of Audrey’s hands brushed across the planes of Shelby’s shoulders. Pale eyes darted up at her from below, peering at her face between her breasts. Audrey blushed and averted her eyes and removed her hand, ashamed of her actions. With a quick snatch, the tick fell to the floor and went down the drain with its friends, leaving only a red mark behind in its wake.

Shelby stood. Her back popped audibly. Audrey was afraid to move her eyes from the tile floor. “Will you check me?” She couldn’t keep herself from sweeping her eyes over Shelby’s exposed body, the pudge to her belly, the stretch marks on her sides and on her breasts, the way her nipples swooped out to the side and protruded with tiny rosebud tips and areolas slightly larger than fifty pence pieces. Audrey bobbed her head. Her voice still wouldn’t come.

Holding her arms above her head, Shelby spun. Audrey stopped her to grab a tick on the underside of her bicep. A surprising tuft of cream-colored hair coiled around her fingers as she threw away the six-legged parasites. Audrey said nothing--the amount of hair on Shelby’s body was absolutely none of her business, no matter how much her initial inclinations told her to pass judgment--but Shelby explained anyway, pink tinting her cheeks, “When Matt stopped caring, so did I… It’s not very natural, anyway.”

“Waxing doesn’t fit in with your kale smoothie lifestyle? Who would’ve dreamt.” Audrey dropped to her knees when she spotted a cluster of ticks below Shelby’s navel. The thick bush of hair was slicked down to her pubic mound, out of the way. “Hold still.” The pudge of Shelby’s belly twitched as she pinched the first of the ticks between her thumb and forefinger. “You’ve got them colonizing your tummy down here.”

Her eyes kept darting down to the thick, wiry hair inches away from her chin. How long had it been since she last let herself grow? Only a few months--she remembered it well, noticing the spiky gray hairs in her pubic hair like barbed wire guarding her vagina and warding off any potential pleasure-bringers. In shame, she had taken her razor and chiseled away until her vulva was as bare as a child’s. When Rory undressed her next, he frowned. “What happened to my landing strip?” he whined. “How am I supposed to know which house is mine without a welcome mat?”

She laughed. “It was time for a change.” Rory hadn’t pressed her anymore than that. He loved her in whatever body she gave him, but she did make every effort to give him a young body like his own. She never told him the truth. Now, she wished she would have.

“Audrey?” Brown eyes raised to Shelby’s face from below. The ticks were gone. “You’ve been staring into my bellybutton like a kaleidoscope.” Audrey’s knees hurt. Mumbling an apology, she rose unsteadily and braced herself against the wall as she loosened up her stiff legs. There were no more ticks on Shelby’s body, she found when she scanned her, and they both faced the wall again and washed their bodies in relative silence with washcloths.

After the silence stretched on for eons, Shelby asked, “What do you feel?”

The cold wall pressed to Audrey’s forehead. “Empty. Numb.” Shelby didn’t reply immediately. Audrey looked at her back. “What about you?”

“The same, I think.”

“You think?”

“I don’t know how I feel.”

“Me, neither.”

Their bruised and battered bodies eased under the hot water until it ran out, and then they dressed in the robes Audrey had brought with her and left the bathroom. “You can use my toothbrush,” Audrey offered, even though the suggestion made her feel a little nauseous. “I’ll use Rory’s.” I’ll never taste the inside of his mouth again.

Shelby shook her head. “I’ll buy one tomorrow.” Tugging back the covers, her brow quirked as she stared down at the mattress. “Ew--Audrey! No offense, but that’s disgusting.”

Audrey approached from across the room with a bag of mixed nuts and dried fruit. “What?” she asked, her brow quirked.

“I’m not touching it.”

In the middle of the bed rested a crumpled up, used condom. Audrey’s irritation at Shelby faded, replaced with embarrassment. She cleared her throat. “You’re right. That’s minging.” She picked up the condom, pinching it awkwardly between her thumb and forefinger and trying not to think too much about its weight or its contents. Had some of Rory’s sperm outlived him? He would make a horrid joke about it, if he were here now. Her appetite suddenly didn’t accommodate the nuts and berries anymore. She dropped the condom into the trashcan and got two bottles of water. “You can have the other side of the bed.”

Shelby plopped onto the bed with a quiet sigh. Audrey followed her and offered the high brow trail mix and the Fiji water. Shelby took the water. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” She cleared her throat as she cracked the bottled water open and took a few deep swallows.

The room grew silent save for the sound of Audrey chomping on the trail mix, which she didn’t really want. Her stomach hurt. She worried she would be sick if she kept eating. But she knew she would be sick if she didn’t eat, too. She held the bag open to Shelby. “Take a handful. You’ll be sick tomorrow if you don’t. We haven’t eaten in days.”

Following instructions, Shelby did take a handful. The silence was uncomfortable. “I thought you guys would’ve been past the point of using condoms.” Audrey almost choked. A raisin sputtered out of her open mouth. “No, I don’t mean--sorry. Sorry. I just needed to have something to say.”

“I--I don’t--What is that even supposed to mean?” Shelby looked at Audrey as she picked through the dried cranberries. “Do you prefer sex unprotected? Not knowing where the knob has been before it goes in you? Or peeing on a stick in a panic in a few weeks?”

Covering her mouth with her hand, Shelby shook her head. “Didn’t you get tested before you tied the knot?”

“Well, of course.”

“So?”

“So?” Audrey repeated. “Did you miss the part about peeing on a stick? I abhor children.”

Shrugging, Shelby sheepishly averted her eyes. She took another handful of trail mix. “I assume you’re not exactly high risk, though, being… past your peak.”

“Excuse me?” Audrey had spent the evening wishing Shelby would say more, but now that Shelby had found her voice again, she remembered how infuriating she was. Even a few nights of watching all of their friends and family die in violent horrible ways could not curb Shelby’s tendency to say the absolute worst things possible. Shelby held up her hands in surrender, but she dropped nuts and berries all over the bed, and then she scrambled to pick them up and shove them into her mouth. Beginning to eat had awakened her appetite. “How old do you think I am?”

Sticking another almond in her mouth, Shelby’s pale eyes held hers. “Is it okay if I don’t answer that question?” Audrey’s eyes flashed with anger and hurt at Shelby’s assumptions and dismissals thrown around like tear gas at a riot. Shelby swallowed hard. “I don’t know… forty-five?” Audrey looked away. “Is that wrong?”

“I’m forty-three.”

“Oh, you’re right. I was way off. Those two years are absolutely the difference between being middle-aged and being geriatric.” Audrey looked away. “Hey… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. It wasn’t very nice.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Audrey would never have admitted it, but she was glad they were talking about something. She was glad they had moved on from their ceaseless, silent grief. As long as they were talking, even if they were bickering, even if they hated each other, they weren’t thinking. They weren’t stewing in their silence. Shelby raised her eyebrows. “Alright, then. How old do you think I am?”

Considering for a moment, Audrey finally landed on the roundest number that occurred to her. “Twenty-five.”

Shelby choked. She started laughing. It was a shrill, hysterical sort of laugh that came from days of going without sleep. “I’m flattered. You’re so kind.”

“Twenty-six?” Audrey tried again, but Shelby’s giggling didn’t quiet. She threw her head back into the awful pillows which provided no neck support. “Tell me!” Shelby shook her head. She reached for another handful of the trail mix. Audrey wrapped up the bag and pulled it off of her hand. “Tell me, or no more food.”

Obstinate, Shelby shook her head. “No, I’m not telling you!” She rolled over and grabbed at the bag of trail mix. “I’m a mystery to you!”Audrey held the bag out of reach. “Give it to me!” Shelby’s straining for the bag sent her crawling over Audrey’s body. Her hands served as pinching crab claws. Audrey’s arm stretched to its maximum, but Shelby still clambered after the food. The side of the bed left her teetering. She began to slide.

Audrey dropped the bag. Both of her hands caught Shelby around the waist and dragged her back onto the bed. Shelby flopped on top of her with her lost balance. All of the air whooshed out of her lungs. The shaking of laughter through Shelby’s chest rattled into her own, but gradually, it slowed, until the ragged sounds she produced were a mix of heaving and sobbing. Audrey’s arms wrapped around Shelby. The sheer nightgowns barred little of their bodies from one another. Shelby’s raw bawls of grief buried into Audrey’s chest. Her wet hair dragged across Audrey’s face and left streaks there. The streaks disguised her tears. Shelby’s good arm strung around Audrey’s neck. The other pressed to her chest beside her own cheek.

Eventually, her breath leveled from uneven gasps to the regular, silent sighs. Shelby lingered there with her cheek on Audrey’s chest. “I’m thirty-four.”

Audrey’s hand dragged through Shelby’s wet, tangled hair. The bag of trail mix was discarded on the floor. “Do you really think I’m past my prime?”

Round blue eyes met Audrey’s, filled with exhaustion and grief. “No…” She shook her head. “No, I don’t… I’m sorry I was so mean to you.” Audrey scratched her scalp like she had before, and Shelby closed her eyes, relishing in the touch like a cat rubbing its face into its owner’s palm. “I was jealous of you…”

This surprised Audrey. “You were?”

“Mhm.” She looked back at Audrey, and then her eyes became distant in memory. “When the show first aired, and Matt and I were fighting… We were fighting all the time.” She shook her head as if in pain. A glossy layer of tears appeared on her eyes. “We didn’t have sex for weeks--months. We watched the show together, and after the scene with you, with Dominic… That did it for him. We had sex that night.” Audrey cupped her face in her hand. Shelby kept talking. “That was the last time. I kept finding him--masturbating--” Her voice cracked. “But he wouldn’t let me touch him anymore. I went with Dominic, I thought, maybe, if I could make Matt jealous--but he didn’t even care enough to be jealous, Audrey, it was so horrible.”

No more tears fell. Audrey wished Shelby would cry so she could wipe away her tears, but nothing fell from her eyes at all. She caressed Shelby’s head, hoping to soothe her. The show had brought Audrey her happiness, however brief she had known it. The show--and its preceding events--had ripped everything from Shelby. “I would have done anything for him. He was the only man I ever loved. I just--” A fragmented cry emerged from her. “I was so angry, I didn’t know what I was doing because everything hurt so much… But if I had been thinking, I would have killed myself instead of him.”

The tender hand pawed over Shelby’s face. “Shelby, don’t say that.”

She shook her head. “It’s true. He could’ve been happy without me. I can never be happy without him. I couldn’t live knowing what he did to me--I should have killed myself--”

Audrey lifted her up by the shoulders. Shelby’s distraught blue eyes met hers, shimmering but shedding no tears. Audrey traced the underside of her jaw with her index finger. “I never would have done something like that to you.” She lifted Shelby’s chin with her finger. “You didn’t deserve that. What he did was wrong. Maybe he didn’t deserve to die for it. But he didn’t deserve happiness, either. Not when he treated you like that.”

The arm around Audrey’s neck tightened, pulling Shelby closer, as she kissed her. Shelby’s lips were moist and chapped. She tasted like soot and ash. She tasted like death. Audrey tilted her head back into Shelby’s kiss. Her mouth opened. Shelby’s warm tongue slithered inside with their noses bumping.

Audrey sucked on her tongue. Shelby pulled away. Their foreheads bumped against one another’s. “You’re so beautiful, Audrey,” Shelby breathed to her. “You’re so beautiful…” Her wet hair hung in rank, heavy curtains between them. “Let me show you.”

Sweeping a lock of hair behind her ear, Audrey nibbled on her lower lip. “You’re tired. You’re hurt. You don’t want this.” Shelby lunged to kiss her again. She relaxed into the kiss, but then she broke it. “I don’t want to do anything we might regret in the morning, love.”

A quiet chuckle left Shelby’s lips. “I regret my whole life up until this point.” She cupped Audrey’s face between her palms. “If I regret you, it will be among the smallest of mistakes I ever made. So much that I think making the mistake is worth the pleasure I’ll derive from it.”

“Is that so?” Audrey pushed herself up onto her elbows and kissed her again. “Keep your weight off your arm.” She kissed the junction between Shelby’s neck and shoulder and lifted the nightgown off of her body. It fell into the floor with the bag of trail mix. Now, she had no shame in studying Shelby’s gorgeous naked body. It crossed her mind for only a moment, wondering what Rory would think of her, having sex with someone else in the last place they had made love. She needs me. I need her. Rory will forgive me. Shelby sank into the pillows. Audrey rolled on top of her and sank her teeth into her collarbone.

As her teeth bit into Shelby’s sensitive skin and began to suck, she tossed her head back with a quiet moan. “God, it’s been months--” Shelby spread her legs wantonly across the bed. Audrey’s hands covered her breasts. Her thumbs stimulated the erect nipples, tracing the little bumps around the areolas and the crevices appearing within the rosebud nubs. “Yes! Do that!”

Audrey chuckled. “Shush! We’re in a hotel! People can hear you!”

“I don’t care what people hear!” Then, Shelby raised her voice. “My name’s Shelby Miller, and I’m about to have lesbian sex with the actress Aud--” Audrey lunged up and covered her mouth with her hand, shushing her with her eyes flashing. “What is it, fancy pants? You don’t want anyone to know you’re here?” Shelby framed Audrey’s face in her hands. “We’ve got nothing left to lose, darling… Nothing but each other.”

She’s right. Audrey had her career, but she doubted she’d have an easy time finding roles after this week--and any interviews would undoubtedly surround the nights she had spent suffering at Return to Roanoke. Shelby kissed her again, and she rolled her over. “Let me start… You look like you’ve never touched a woman before in your life.” She grabbed the nightgown by its lower hem, and then she tossed it aside. Peppered kisses smattered all over Audrey’s neck and shoulders. Shelby attacked her chest with passion and heat. She framed her breasts between her hands. Her moist lips wrapped around the erect brown nipples. Audrey panted with desire. A flame ignited in the pit of her stomach and crawled downward, and as it did, the backs of her eyes stung with tears.

Shelby nibbled on her breasts. The tip of her tongue stimulated her nipples, but her teeth grazed the tender skin there and suckled until she left small, mouth-shaped bruises all over. The tiny red marks where she had found ticks vanished beneath her tongue. Sensation crackled through Audrey’s body. Whatever she felt, it wasn’t numbness, not anymore. Shelby’s weak hand slid down her abdomen, over her navel, toward her stubble-covered pubic mound. Her strong hand teased the breast opposite the one she had closed her teeth around. She dipped her mouth below the nipple on Audrey’s right breast and sucked on the fatty flesh where the breast rose up from her rib cage. Her tongue darted out to explore the junction there, the crease where her breasts sagged without support.

Audrey’s hands curled into Shelby’s wet hair. “Shelby,” she whispered. “I--I didn’t shave. Maybe we shouldn’t…” She wiggled with aroused discomfort. But what if Shelby was disgusted by her? Her insecurities burbled to the top.

The nose brushing down her midline paused. “I don’t mind,” Shelby said quietly. “I haven’t shaved in months… I’m practically a blonde monkey compared to you.” She planted a tender kiss above Audrey’s navel. “Don’t be insecure… I think you’re beautiful.” She nuzzled into the hand in her hair, kissing the palm of her hand. “Definitely the prettiest actor I’ve ever gotten in bed. You blow Dominic all the way out of the theater.”

The joke mitigated her worries, and she relaxed into the pillows with a quiet, nervous giggle. Shelby peppered little pecks down from her belly button to the crease where her pubic stubble began. She sucked on the brow of delicate, intimate fat above her hip bone. Then, she hooked her fingers into her panties and discarded them. Audrey quivered. Shelby’s hands were softer than anyone else’s. Shelby nudged her legs apart. Face flaming with shame, Audrey hiked her legs up and spread them. Shelby planted a hand on each of her inner thighs. She dragged her wet lips and her nose from the thigh brow down to her knee and back up again. “You smell really good.”

Her words sent a hiccup of anxious desire through Audrey. She arched her back off of the bed before Shelby even touched her. “Ah… Go--Go ahead,” she said, uncertain if Shelby needed reassurance before she began. A faint kiss pressed to the top of her labia where they split. “Oh!” The pressure on her enlarged clitoris made her jump with pleasure. “That--That feels good…”

Shelby smiled into her vulva. With one hand, she split Audrey’s outer labia between her fingers. Then, her tongue flicked out of her mouth. Starting at the vestibule of her vagina, she licked upward, dragging some of Audrey’s flavored wetness with her. “Mm…” Shelby purred against her soft flesh. The tip of her tongue found the crus of Audrey’s clitoris and followed it from the right side up toward the bulb. But, as Audrey tensed in anticipation, Shelby skipped the most delicate part. Audrey tossed her head back and whined aloud. She scratched Shelby’s scalp with her fingernails, hoping to encourage her. “Mm…” She trailed back down the other side of her clitoris, dodging the sensitive bulb and hood without another thought.

“Please, Shelby…” Audrey’s hips twitched upward. Her mortified face flamed with shame. The prickly stubble all over her lower lips scratched at Shelby’s face, but the other woman didn’t breathe the first word of a complaint. The tongue between her legs danced in circles around the nub of her clitoris. No matter how she wriggled, Shelby effectively dodged the most sensitive point on her body. “Oh, please!”

A single digit rounded the outside of her vagina. “Oh--” Audrey choked on her words at the sensation. The fingertip probed right outside the entrance to her body. “Oh, heavens…” She cleared her throat. “Ah--yes!” The single word provided confirmation to Shelby. The finger slithered into Audrey’s wet vagina. “Oh, god, that’s nice!” The muscles in her abdomen clenched. She puffed out a long breath to relax them. “That’s nice. Really nice.” She shivered with need. “Shelby… please, touch me!”

The finger curled inside of her and massaged the delicate, spongy place there. “Oh!” Audrey’s eyes rolled back. “Oh, my lord, I’ve never--” Nothing had ever touched her there before, not quite like Shelby just had. Her immense pleasure quivered in her clitoris. “Shelby, I’m begging you!”

Tongue traveling upward, Shelby placed the flat of it on top of her clitoris. “Oh!” Audrey’s lower lip trembled. Tears built behind her eyes. The tense physical feelings within her mixed with her burbling unresolved emotions. Salty drops slid paths down her face. “Oh--” Her throat closed up, choking out the sound. “Shelby,” she whispered. Taking deep breaths became difficult. Shelby lifted her face from her vulva. “Don’t stop!” Audrey’s voice quivered in distress. “Please, don’t stop!”

Shelby hesitated, but then she obeyed, pressing her mouth back against Audrey’s vulva. She moved faster, this time using the tip of her tongue. She ground her lower jaw against her clitoris. A long moan released from Audrey’s lungs, broken by hiccups of despair. Something larger pushed into her vagina--another finger. With an unfamiliar rhythm, Shelby massaged the patch of nerves inside her body. “Ngh! Oh--” The fire of arousal coursed all through her lower body as the waves rose and fell, threatening to overtake her at any moment. “Shelby, I think--I think I’m gonna--” The flame built inside of her. Shelby tindered the fire, and Audrey was the fodder. “Oh, heavens!”

The tight mouth slurped on her clitoris. Audrey felt herself tightening. Squeezing her eyes shut, she released herself. Sparks exploded behind her eyes. Her toes curled into the sheets. Her fingers curled into Shelby’s hair. She thrust her breasts into the air. Tingles waved through her lower body. “Oh, fuck! Oh, Shelby!”

Her vagina clenched a final time around Shelby’s fingers. She shuddered into loosening herself up. Cheeks wet with tears, Audrey peered down at her. Shelby opened her mouth and stuck one of the fingers inside, sucking it clean. At the sight, Audrey’s nipples hardened. She pushed herself up. Shelby offered her other protruding finger. Gross. She opened her mouth to receive it.

Whatever she had expected her lubricant to taste like, this wasn’t it. Audrey wrapped her hand around Shelby’s wrist and licked it until she had swallowed all traces of herself. Her body still quivered with distress. Shelby leaned forward and pecked the tears from her cheeks. “Are you okay?” Shelby whispered to the auricle of her ear. She caressed Audrey’s cheek, wiping away the wet streaks with her thumbs. Audrey nodded. “Are you sure?”

Audrey bobbed her head and swallowed hard. “Show me what to do.” She flipped them over and hooked her fingers into Shelby’s panties, tugging them down and off of her ass. Shelby lifted her hips to help her wiggle them off. They landed in the heap of clothing and trail mix on the floor. “Show me.”

Stacking the pillows behind her, Shelby spread her legs wide apart. Her thick, fuzzy mound of hair had curls pointing in all directions. “Do what you like… I’ll tell you if I don’t want it.” Audrey lowered her face to Shelby’s breasts and nibbled on top of one. What I like. She liked the idea of suckling on Shelby’s beautiful breasts until she forgot her own name and only remembered the taste of her skin. She liked the pale flesh and how easily she could mark it with bruises--she did. She sank her teeth into the top of the breast and sucked on it, bit it, until she drew back and the dark red marks didn’t fade. “Ah!” Shelby gasped the soft sound. “I like that. Do it again.”

The request rested easily for Audrey. She repeated the bite on Shelby’s other breast. This time, she sucked longer and harder. Her mouth closed around Shelby’s nipple, but she didn’t bite it. She softened her mouth, there, using the tip of her tongue to flick across the pink bud. “Mm,” she hummed against Shelby’s body. Her hand dipped lower, between Shelby’s legs. She grazed her fingers through her thick pubic hair. The curls were somehow both coarse and soft, wiry in how they wrapped around her fingers and dragged her down into the depths of Shelby’s body.

Sliding lower, Shelby gasped and moaned whenever she felt something she liked; she had few reservations. Fuzzy legs brushed up against Audrey’s bare body as they hooked around her before she hiked them apart again. “God, Audrey, hurry up!” Audrey chuckled right into Shelby’s navel. Shelby had rushed through nothing with her, and she intended to return the favor. She licked across the trail of hair from Shelby’s belly button going downward.

The heady aroma of woman rose to her from below, but it wasn’t bad. She planted her hands on Shelby’s thighs and got her first taste with no hesitation. With her mouth open, she flicked the tip of her tongue across Shelby’s clitoris. It twitched back against her muscle. “Ah! Audrey!” Fluid dribbled out of Shelby’s body. Audrey pushed her middle and ring finger into her. “Oh, shit, that’s good!” Shelby shuddered and quivered against her. Her thighs framed Audrey’s face. Every twitch of her muscles bled through into Audrey’s cheeks. Her coiled, tense muscles encouraged her.

Exploring Shelby’s vulva was a new craft for her. Audrey pushed her fingers into her partner and withdrew them and pushed them in again, curling them forward with each insertion. At the first touch, she struggled to find the exact location, but she knew it when she found it; Shelby cried out, and her nipples pebbled and stood erect, and she bucked her hips, and her vagina clenched tight around her fingers. She stroked the delicate place with the skin like a walnut shell.

Audrey closed her eyes and relished in the velvety, smooth sensation of a woman’s insides. She stroked the walls deep inside of her, soaking in the squishy feeling of all of Shelby’s lubrication. She dipped her face downward and licked the inner labia. Shelby shuddered. “God, please, Audrey--touch me.” Her hands reached down and grabbed her thighs, dragging them apart, widening the gap. “Please! I’m begging you, I need it!”

Smirking into her vulva, Audrey repeated the motion Shelby had done to her--following the crus of her clitoris while dodging the erect pearl nestled in her deepest places. She quivered. Shelby threw her head back, crying out in frustration. Her vagina squeezed around Audrey’s fingers, as if she thought she could get some stimulus from drawing the fingers deeper into her body. The tip of her tongue circled her clitoris without touching it.

The first touch relieved Shelby in the form of a loose gasping sound. She arched her chest upward, her hips grinding against Audrey’s mouth. “Yes! Yes! Oh, like that--I’m so wet, I’m so close!” Audrey flicked once with the tip of her tongue. Shelby almost howled in frustration. Audrey flicked again. She shivered. Her hips bucked upward, unable to hold themselves still. “God, Audrey, you’re torturing me!” Not torture. Far from torture. Shelby whined and whimpered. Her pathetic noises tingled between Audrey’s legs.

After one more flick left Shelby outraged and near tears, Audrey pressed the flat of her tongue against her partner’s clitoris and ground it with her lower jaw, slurping at her clitoris. The few loose contractions of Shelby’s vagina tightened abruptly. “Oh, yes, I’m coming!” The announcement surely could have been heard in the next room over. Audrey prayed there weren’t any children there. “I’m cuh--I’m coming! Oh!” The long moan accompanied the rapid clenches of Shelby’s vagina. Contractions rushed through her muscular walls.

As her clitoris stopped twitching and her vagina loosened, Audrey pulled herself free and wiped her hand off on the bedsheets. Shelby lay on her back, gazing at the ceiling and panting. Sweat rolled off of her body. She winced as a few beads of sweat trickled into her shoulder wound. “You think we ought to bandage it again?” Audrey asked, glancing at it in detail for the first time. Shelby shook her head. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Shelby reassured. She took Audrey by her wrist and tugged her down beside her. “Lie with me. I need you.” Tears stung in Audrey’s eyes again. She unscrewed the cap to her water bottle and took a long drink. Then, she pressed it to Shelby’s lips. Shelby took a few deep swallows as Audrey held it, keeping it from drowning her. Audrey pulled back. Shelby’s unsteady breaths leveled out. She put her head in Audrey’s lap. Audrey dragged her fingers through Shelby’s long hair. “I’ll miss you,” she said in a croak. “When I leave. When you leave.”

Audrey’s hand tightened. She closed her eyes. Tears slid down her face, and she prayed to whatever higher power was out there that Shelby didn’t see them. “I know. You’re the only one who understands.” Shelby nuzzled into her hand. “But… we have to go somewhere. We can’t stay here… This is no place for us, either of us.”

“I’m going to Los Angeles. Hollywood. You could come. My mom, she would let you… She probably wouldn’t stop asking you about all your movies, though.”

A dry chuckle left Audrey’s lips. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and glanced down to Shelby in her lap, whose eyes had closed. “That’s sweet.” Imagine the scandal, she thought. The public had gone wild enough when Shelby and Dominic had had their affair. What would they think if she and Shelby went public? What would they think if the tapes went public showing Shelby killing Matt? Who cares what the public thinks? “We can think about all that stuff tomorrow, love.” She shifted Shelby’s head out of her lap and lay down beside her, spreading out the pillows so they could lie on one another’s arms.

“Audrey?” Shelby’s peeped voice drew her out of her reverie. “I know I’m really tired right now, and my body hurts like a bitch, and I’m not exactly in my right mind, but…” She drifted off for a moment. Audrey nudged her pointedly in an invitation. “In the morning, if you decide it’s best for us to part ways, will you let me down easily? I don’t think I can take more heartbreak in this life.”

Parting ways? It sounded so painful. “I don’t want to leave you, love.” Shelby pursed her lips into a pout. “But I promise. Tomorrow, or any other time in the future… If something calls me away from you, I’ll do everything I can to treat you gently, as long as you do the same for me.”

Shelby nodded. “Of course, Audrey.” She kissed her on the mouth. “It would be silly to wish you sweet dreams, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes… But sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

“Sweet dreams.”

They lingered there in the dim light, afraid to turn off the lamp, afraid to look away from one another’s eyes, afraid of what they would see in the shadows.

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peachyvhope · 6 years

Text

Bra Boy (m.)

Warning: Taehyung Smut

Word Count: 2245

PART TWO: Lingerie Lover

Dellot was a lingerie boutique in the middle of the city, popular for not only for the brand name and delicate designs but for its employees as well. Dellot’s owner was a male who prided himself in making sexy pieces for women to go to bed in, and as it turned out, he usually only hired males to work, as well. If there was a ratio of men to women, it would be 6 to 1.

You’d never been to Dellot personally, but you’d acquired quite a few pieces for yourself. You probably would have never gone anyway, but Ah Seong insisted on going.

“They hired this new guy. His name’s Taehyung, and he’s so handsome. He almost looks like a foreigner; his hair is dyed blonde, and he has a freckle on his nose.”

“Sounds like you’ve stared at him a bit too much, Ah Seong,” you said with complete disinterest. The only reason you were going was for lingerie.

Not that anyone needed to know, but you had a thing for collecting lingerie, and Dellot’s was number one in your book. Sometimes you splurged more than was necessary on a nice teddy or combinette, but as long as your closet was happy, you were happy, no matter how depressed your wallet or bank account was.

The shop was a small one besides a few different cafes, with a large sign that read ‘Dellot’ in fancy lettering. Accents were on both sides of the brand, and there were some mannequins in the windows showcasing some of the designer's finer, more recent pieces. One piece caught your eye in particular.

Ah Seong grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you along before you could examine it further, and she rushed straight to a mannequin in a green set.

“I thought you were here to flirt, Seong-ah,” you shot her a pointed glance and she smiled.

“Well, I have to buy something for when I get the guy, don’t I?”

“Right,” you agreed, just to go along with it. You take your time roaming the boutique, and as you do so, you realize that Ah Seong was right. You hadn’t seen any women wearing anything that signified they were a Dellot employee. But the men were definitely eye candy.

Each time you saw a flash of blonde hair, you were reminded of Ah Seong telling you about Taehyung, but the nametag always revealed someone else. It didn’t bother you, though, because you doubted you could ever see yourself with someone who worked at a place like this.

The bell of the door rang suddenly, and you being your nosy self, glanced at the entrance. A pair of men walked in, and you decided to finish shopping. Ah Seong wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so you assumed she was trying some of the things on for size, or maybe even doing a fitting. You wondered if the fittings were ever awkward, but assumed that they were most probably done with the utmost professional attitude.

Red blinded you, and you found yourself face to face with the piece you’d saw in the window. You stared at it with desire and smiled lovingly. It was perfect. The fabric around the bust area was thin, but velvet, and seemed so soft. Without a second thought, you pointed to the mannequin and called the attention of an employee who was in the midst of retreating to the storeroom.

“Can I get one of those?”

“That’s the only one.” His eyes looked you over once before he gave you a small smile, “I can ask the owner if you can try it on. You look like you’d fit it.”

“Thanks?”

“Give me a minute.” With that, he escaped into the storeroom behind the counter, leaving you to stare at the piece.

“You like it?” A voice came from behind you; deep and mellow and smooth.

“I...yeah. It’s nice.”

“Mind if I measure you? If it’s not your size, you could always order one to be made.”

“They do custom orders here?”

“For you.” You finally turned, in time to catch his wink, eyelashes fluttering, kissing his cheek. You were almost jealous--how could his eyelashes be so long.

“Kim Taehyung,” he offered a hand, and you reached to grab it gingerly. Before you could pull away after the solid shake, he brought your hand up to his lips and pecked it tentatively. “I made that piece.”

“I thought you were just an errand boy,” you muttered, still slightly taken aback.

“That’s the rest of them. The owner’s getting quite old, so he thought I should take over.” He waited to see my reaction.

“You’re…”

“I’m the grandson.” You suddenly realized that this man had been the one to walk in earlier, and you had paid no mind. He wore a black turtleneck and an expensive looking necklace, and you found it hard to believe that this attractive man was fond of making lingerie if that.

“You like to do this?”

“My pride and joy. So, about those measurements?”

“I can just give them to you.” You didn’t feel like allowing another person to touch you, despite knowing his hands would never actually be flush against your own flesh.

“I’d rather know, myself. Besides, you never know...may you grew.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but words never came out.

“Did you want to do this here, or inside a changing room,” Taehyung asked. His question seemed to have other meanings, but you weren’t going to look into it.

“Here is fine.” You moved your arms so he was able to measure you. Your face flushed, and despite the fluorescent lighting, you prayed to god he wouldn’t be able to see the color. Your heart raced with the thought of other things happening, but more than that, you imagined yourself in the red lingerie set.

His hands moved down to your waist, and you didn’t quite register that he’d ridden himself of the measuring tape, which was now draped around his neck like a scarf. He gripped your waist tenderly, and you warmed at the touch. It burned like fire through your clothes. Soon, his hands were at your hips, and he seemed to glide up and down to cop a good feel.

“Your measurements are perfect,” he said under his breath, and you couldn’t help but think the same about his voice. You creamed your panties right then, and there.

“Perfect in general, or for the set.” you asked shakily, and you sensed the smirk in his voice as you stared down at the floor, concentrating on keeping your self-control then and there.

“Both. Did you want to try it on?”

“I...yes. Please.” In front of you, his glossed dress shoes disappeared from your line of sight as he went to strip the mannequin of its pride. You risked watching him, but all you could see was his back and the curious faces of people watching as he changed the mannequin in the window. He replaced the mannequin with one wearing a sexy black combinette before pulling off the red set. Throughout the process, you noticed how broad his shoulders were, and how they outlined up until his waist perfectly, suavely.

You were shaking in your jeans.

“Here you go. Was that all?”

You could say nothing, so you just nodded and moved to the changing room. Changing took longer than necessary, because you somehow couldn’t wrap your mind around the feeling you had. You knew that you were aroused, but you couldn’t gather why. Kim Taehyung was as sexy as the actors in movies, and as handsome of some of your ex-flings, but you just couldn’t calm down.

The knot in your stomach tightened when you realized that it was his work of art that you’d soon be wearing. When you had finally slipped it on, you stared at yourself in the mirror, momentarily forgetting all aspects of the world. Until the curtain opened and revealed the maker, his lips forming a grand smirk.

“Do you like it?”

“What are you doing here?” Your voice came out in a hushed shout as you reached for your coat and covered yourself, unaware that your backside was mirrored despite your effort.

“I work here.”

“I meant, in the changing room.”

“I wanted to see a real model wear it. It’s sexy.” You didn’t know whether to kick him out or say thanks, so you just stood there, blood rushing to your cheeks once again. A solid minute passes by, and neither of you moves.

“You… need to go. You need to go, now,” you muttered shyly.

Taehyung cleared his throat and pulled at the turtleneck, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

His eyes dropped, and you followed his gaze to the front of his pants. At the sight of the tent, you’re at a loss for words, but somehow manage to say the single most embarrassing thing. “Wow.”

“I can’t go out there like this.”

“What do you want me to do?” Almost as soon as your eyes found his, your gaze returned to the erection in his pants.

“Help me.”

“Do what?”

“Get me off.”

“I don’t know you.” But you knew that you wanted to. You wanted to get him off, so badly that it hurt. “It’ll go down soon anyway, won’t it?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I...I need to get out of here.” You turned and began to gather your clothes, completely forgetting that your backside was still revealed, and brushed against the taller boy. He let out a throaty groan, and as your behind felt the small force of pressure, you exhaled a breathy sigh. Embarrassed, you moved forward, but Taehyung’s hands shot out and grabbed you by the hips, much more roughly than when he’d been measuring you.

“You know, this was my first full lingerie set,” he whispered into your ear, and you were ashamed to admit that you’d completely soaked through the lacy velvet material. You didn’t respond but leaned back into his chest, eager for more skinship. His hands slid up and down your sides before slipping one of your shoulder straps down, and you felt his soft lips attach themselves to your neck. He nipped and nicked, causing you to push past your limit.

You moaned, as quietly as you could with the knowledge that the little changing room wasn’t soundproof.

“Will you help me with my little issue?”

You nodded absentmindedly, “Hardly little.” To emphasize your point, you pressed harder against him, rubbing him and feeling him through the jeans material. You turned and unbuckled his jeans, pulling the belt completely out of the loops and let it fall to the ground with a soft thud. The button and zippers were next, and you found the pattern of what you assumed were boxer briefs amusing.

“Guess you were feeling quite foxy, huh?”

You didn’t miss the small change in color of his face as you pointed out the foxes, but nevertheless took hold of his cock and released it from the restraining fabric. Your embarrassment returned as you realized you didn’t know what to do now that you had him in your hand.

“Stroke it.” Slightly confused, you stroked him, careful not to tug too hard, so your hand on him was loose. His hand came around your own and he grabbed himself tighter, guiding you. He audibly cursed as you noticed him harden in your hands, not that he had been completely soft in the first place. As you jerked your hand in fluid motions, Taehyung’s hands pushed their way into your hair, undoing the neat braid it had been in. Before acknowledging what you were doing, you swooped down and took his cock into your mouth, him filling you until your throat.

You thought you’d choke, but you sucked anyway. You swallowed when you felt the need in air, and you felt Taehyung shudder above you.

“Do that again.”

You did and pulled you head onto him more, facefucking you until finally, he came to his release. Sticky white cum shot into your mouth, and you swallowed quickly, with each gulp, another spurt filling your mouth.

“Wow,” escaped his lips. You liked all the excess away before standing, face red. Without another word, you rushed to get dressed, unrobing yourself before the blonde boy’s eyes without a care and redressing into your original apparel.

“How much was this?” You felt ashamed for having soaked through it earlier, and you were going to have to pay. You felt bad for not checking the price earlier.

Taehyung watched you curiously, sweat beading on his forehead. He stepped forward until your chests came together, and his fingers gingerly swiped across your lips before he pressed a kiss to them. “It’s on me.”

“Uh, thanks.” You shrugged on your cardigan, embarrassed by the whole exchange, but nevertheless grabbed the taller man by the shirt and pulled him in for another kiss.

“Call me,” he smirked, pushing a card into your back pocket, not missing the chance to squeeze your ass in the process. You pushed through the curtains only to find Ah Seong waiting there, eyes wide and jaw ajar.

“You...and Kim Taehyung?...Damn…”

You covered your face in embarrassment, realizing that you and Taehyung had obviously been more vocal than you’d thought. Grabbing Ah Seong’s wrist, you pulled her with you as you made a speedy escape.

Made that part two, yo.

#valentae #bts v #bts taehyung #bts scenarios #bts #bts scenes #taehyung x reader #v x reader #bts x reader #taehyung smut

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silent-of-spirit · 6 years

Text

MORE writing? Like, Two in three days? What? Sarah, what has gotten into you?

I know, I know. It’s shocking, but I am trying not to question a good thing. Anyways, have more Fenris and Faye because they are my fonts of inspiration at the moment. Dunno why.

@ladylike-foxes

Fenris x Faye Amell - First Kiss

Takes place after this.

The first time he sees her smile, it is as though the clouds part and the world is flooded with light. He is entranced by the sight of it, and it becomes nearly impossible to keep his distance – to allow her the space he has given so she can heal without the pressure of his feelings.

The distance allows him to process as well, if he is being honest. He is still not sure what to make of the revelation that blindsided him on that rainy night when she broke in his arms. It is... different and confusing – something he was wholly unprepared for, and still is.

But oh, how it consumes him, something as simple as her smile sparking the fire within him all over again.

He sees it as a mark of her progress and does not press, merely smiles back – the first genuine smile he can remember – as Varric guffaws in the background.

“Dancing? W-was that a joke, Broody?” Varric can hardly contain himself, threatening to fall out of his chair. Fenris watches with an amused quirk of his lips and a cocked brow.

“It's completely true,” Marian pipes up, pushing herself away from where she lounged against Anders by the fire. The mage had been dozing, but startles awake at her movement, a brief flash of disappointment crossing his face as she pulls from his arms. Marian is the very picture of complete seriousness as she leans forward conspiratorially. “I've seen it. All hours of the day he just prances. He's really quite beautiful. That grace, that beauty, that flexibility...” She waggles her eyebrows on the last, a large smile finally breaking the false mask. “He could give any of the dancers at the Blooming Rose a run for their money.”

Varric loses it while Anders struggles to conceal a snort, cheeks coloring. Fenris rolls his eyes at Hawke's wink, but a smile tugs at his own lips. But then, the inexplicable; Faye laughs.

It is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

None of them mean to, he knows, but all of them fall silent, gazes turned toward the quiet woman in shock and joy. He swears Hawke's eyes are shining with unshed tears. Faye's widen at the sudden attention, and she ducks her head, embarrassment creeping up her neck and cheeks.

“That's a good thing to hear, Sparrow,” Varric says softly, looking every bit the proud papa he isn't. But he had adopted her in a way – the same way he had Brionna – and he wants only the best for them both. Faye is beloved by them all, forever winning them over with her gentle words and kind manner. She is the soothing rain after a wildfire, bringing comfort and peace whenever anyone shares her company. They three swarm her, and she squeals, the peals of her laughter ringing through the room.

He watches, reminded of a conversation months past – when they had both begun to trust each other, had begun to open up and slowly share their darkness... piece by piece. It was the beginning of recognizing they don't have to be alone – a turning point.

“I am afraid,” she had whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched the rain from the window. So clearly he saw the memory of that night reflected in her eyes – the rain that had chilled her to her bones, and the ghosts of demons and memories that saw her flee. She closed her eyes, and a visible struggle had crossed her features.

He spoke, unwilling to see her shut herself back off so quickly. “What of?” He'd asked, voice gentle. She seemed surprised, turning her gaze to him with parted lips that did not seem to know how to form the words. She had never spoken of it, had never admitted its existence so openly – and he saw in her face that she hadn't meant to. There was so much uncertainty lingering in her eyes, and he understood it. He closed the book in his lap, set it aside as he rose. He took measured steps, allowing her the chance to tell him to stop, the chance to run – but she did neither. She watched as he seated himself in the chair beside hers and waited.

She had turned away, seeming tortured by her own confession, confused by her willingness to speak of it in his company, and he did not press. He sat, watching, allowing her to decide if she would reveal herself. He knew how hard it was.

Oh, how he knew.

“I'm not strong enough,” Her voice had been so pained – so utterly broken. “I watched as the demons claimed people whose strength I envied, those who had been bulwarks against the tide of cruelty. They fell so easily, and... and...” She took a shaking breath, fingers flicking away the tears that had slipped from her eyes.

He hadn't meant to, but he reached for her hand, gently pulling it back as she made to erase the evidence of her pain. He clutched it between both of his own, and it was so small... so cold. She had gasped at the contact, but did not pull away, instead turning her face so he could not see her tears.

He hadn't minded, his only thought to let her release them – to allow herself to feel it instead of hide from it.

“I learned before my Harrowing that demons will do anything to get out of the Fade. They will use your desires, your fears, your emotions – make promises and whisper in your ear the thing you want most so you will open yourself to their influence.” She paused, trembled, “But that's the thing; they have to be allowed. Those people I envied, those pillars of strength and knowledge... they were among the first to fall. What chance did I have?”

“You closed yourself off,” he said, voice rumbling between them. The way she stiffened gave him his answer.

“If I choose not to feel, then what can a demon use against me?”

He closed his eyes against the emotions that surged through him, memories of his own – demons of a different sort, content to tempt you with everything you want only to rip it from your grasp with a cruel sneer and laughter.

“I fear the same,” he confessed, unconsciously squeezing her hand in his grasp. She placed her free hand atop his – a gesture of solidarity, comfort, understanding.

Terrified to feel, of being used and having their control stripped from them...

Yet here they are, laughing and smiling and remembering how good it feels. She meets his eyes, and they are bright, shining with life and humor... until a strange sound causes them all to freeze, looking around in puzzlement.

“What was th-” Anders begins, but is interrupted by an obscene moan, muffled by the walls and very clearly sounding from the direction of Garrett's room. Anders' eyes widen, Marian has the look of mischief about her, Varric seems to pale slightly, and Faye has become scarlet from the tips of her ears to the collar of her dress.

“And that's my cue,” Varric grunts as he pushes himself up. Marian laughs, pinning him with an amused look.

“Aw, Ver-bear you should be happy for them! Maker knows they've been dancing around each other long enough,” She smirks as Varric waves a dismissive hand in her direction.

“I can be both happy for them and extremely uncomfortable that a girl I damn near see as my daughter is the one with him.” Marian bursts into laughter as the dwarf flees, pulling Anders to his feet the moment the door swings shut.

“I sense a friendly competition,” she says with a saucy wink, pushing the mage toward the stairs.

“W-what? Wait,” he tries to say, silenced by a swat on his rear.

“Time to show Garrett who the superior man is,” Marian says, giggling like a girl at his spluttered attempts at speaking. “I trust you can find your way out, Fenris,” she calls just before swinging her bedroom door shut.

Fenris shakes his head, chuckling softly to himself. Hawke certainly never lacks entertainment. He looks over to Faye, nearly snorts at the way she pointedly looks at everything but the two doors at the top of the stairs, face awash with color.

“Thank the Maker the doors to the library are thick,” she says shyly, shooting him an embarrassed look. He raises a brow.

“You're going to sleep in the library?”

She lets out a nervous, breathy laugh. “My room lies directly between theirs. The silence is preferable to their... uh... to that,” If possible, her flush grows deeper, and he cannot hold back the laugh now. She glances at him, sheepish, and pushes herself to her feet.

She is silent for a moment, shuffling her feet against the carpet in a nervous gesture he does not expect. The embers in the hearth crackle somewhere behind him, signaling the dying of the fire moments before the light in the room fades to a rosy glow.

Whatever has her nervous, she seems disinclined to speak on it, so he rises from his chair. He has no desire to stick around for the antics sure to ensue. The twins are competitive about everything, and it is utterly ridiculous the lengths they will go to one-up the other.

He stretches briefly, cracking his neck before nodding to Faye with a small smile.

“W-wait,” she says, clearing her throat, “I, um, I have another book for you,” She reaches into the pocket on her dress and pulls out a battered notebook. He recognizes it immediately, gaze flicking from the worn leather to her face. How long had he witnessed her scribbling in that very same book? Five years? Yes, he decides. Back when his prejudice had seen him hate her despite her silence. He feels a slight twinge at that.

She steps forward until she stands before him, holding the book aloft with slightly shaking hands. “I wrote it,” she says so quietly he almost wonders if he imagines it. “I wanted you to be the first to read it,” and he knows he doesn't imagine that. His breath seizes for a moment and he fixes her with the intensity of his gaze. He does not know how to tell her what it means, for her to trust him this way, to hand him a piece of her soul in the form of words.

“Thank you,” is what he says instead, hoping it conveys what he cannot. Their fingers brush as he takes it from her, and that single point of contact nearly sets him ablaze. Something hangs heavy in the dim light between them, and she looks shy. But finally, she lets go of the book, seemingly rattled as she makes to turn.

Right on that one edge of the foyer carpet that never likes to stay put.

She stumbles, begins to teeter back with wide eyes just as he catches her around the waist so that she falls into him instead. Her hands clench in his shirt, and she looks up at him with parted lips and flaming cheeks and he wonders if she can hear the way his heart pounds.

He should push her away. He shouldn't be this close, enough to smell her faint perfume, heady and intoxicating. He needs to give her space. He can't – doesn't want to – confuse her, doesn't want her to think that she has to return his affections. She needs time to heal. He needs to give her space. He needs to, he needs-

He can feel the way her heart flutters beneath his palm, gaze captured by her lips as she wets them with the barest flick of her tongue. He can't step away, can't move, can't breathe, dizzy with her proximity, with the way she feels beneath his hands. He needs to stop, he tells himself even as he dips his head, fingers twitching against her waist. He manages it just before their lips touch, breath coming fast as he tries to rein in the temptation. Her breath mingles with his in the scant space between them, and he struggles to pull back, to regain control over his wayward body.

But then, “Fenris,” his name whispered like a damn prayer, and he forces his eyes open to look at her, nearly shaking. Her gaze is hooded, but he can see something there – a certain need, pleading. A small hand smooths up his chest, clutches the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape.

And then she is pulling him down, closing the distance, and Maker, he must be dreaming when her lips brush against his. It is just the barest whisper of a thing, shy and hesitant, but it sets him ablaze. He has to close his eyes when she pulls away, has to grasp at the fraying ends of his self control before he breaks, before he scares her away – but when he opens his eyes he sees the worry in hers, the doubt that tells her she misjudged, and he could kick himself for allowing it even a moment to take hold in her mind.

He refuses to allow it to linger.

He pulls her flush against him, dipping his head to taste her, to feel her, and he distantly feels guilt at the way his mouth crashes against hers none too gently. But the guilt is gone as soon as it had come, and he is lost. Her lips are so soft and pliant, and already he is addicted to the way she clutches him, as though she is drowning and he is the only thing keeping her afloat. He can't get enough and his body sings as she kisses him back, needy, demanding, finally, the sharp tug at his hair causing him to growl as she attempts to pull him closer, closer, and it isn't close enough.

He leans over, diving into her as he deepens the kiss, nearly loses his mind at the sound she makes when he does so. She tastes divine, and he knows he would find contentment drinking from her lips for the rest of his days. He feels drunk, dizzy, breathless, lost in the way she molds herself to him so effortlessly, the way she begs with lips and tongue and sweet sounds.

Maker, finally, is the only thought that echoes in his mind and it is so much better than he ever imagined. He can't seem to stop, can't allow himself to pull away with the knowledge that she is just as lost as he is. He can't and again he tastes her, pushes her back, back, back until she hits the wall and breaks away with a gasp, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist without hesitation. He hisses at the way the action rubs her against him, and tangles his hand in her hair, pulling her head back to lave at her throat.

There is nothing but this moment. Nothing but the way she arches against him with a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan as he sinks his teeth into the junction of her shoulder. He is wild with need, with want, with the touch of her hands and her heart and her soul. With every kiss, every caress, he feels her. Not her body, but her – the woman she has hidden away beneath pain and trauma, begging to be set free. And she calls to him, the part of him that is buried and he feared to be gone. He finds her lips again; begs to be set free, to know her, all of her – those deep, dark places, her joy, her love, her sorrow, her pain. He wants it; wants her and he cannot find the words... cannot find a way to tell her... so he kisses her. He moves his lips against hers until his doubts are assuaged, until his body aches from want of more, until he is so dizzy and warm that he swears he must be drunk.

When they finally, finally, pull away they are both thoroughly wrecked. They try to catch their breath, chests rising hard and fast, eyes glossed over with want fixed squarely on the other's. He looks at her, intent on memorizing every detail of her face, and she blushes under his scrutiny.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, running a rough thumb over her swollen lips, watching the way she shudders. His eyes search her face and he doesn't know how to find the words to explain the way his heart swells. “Thank you,” he says again, hoarse and breathy. “Thank you,”

Something flashes in her eyes, and she places a gentle hand upon his cheek, pressing her lips against his once more with a tenderness that nearly makes him break.

“No,” she whispers, “thank you.”

They both are reluctant to pull apart, but they know they must. He places her back on the floor as gently as a babe, releasing her only when he sees she can stand properly. She smiles shyly, reaching for the book that lay forgotten in the chair he had tossed it to in his haste to catch her. She brushes her fingers over the cover, almost wistful in the way she looks at it.

“I, um, I hope you like it,” she says, avoiding his eyes as she hands it to him for the second time that night. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as again, he reaches for it, taking it with all the reverence he can muster.

“I know I will.”

She nods and turns toward the library. When she reaches the door, she pauses, standing still for a moment before glancing back at him over her shoulder, fingers pressed to her lips. She offers a radiant smile, all the more bright in the dim haze, and disappears into the room.

#ignore me #sarah writes #faye amell #fenris #dunno if i like it yet but at least im writing #canon verse

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blackwatchbastard · 7 years

Text

Light Sleeper

Rating: T Chapter(s): 1/1 Relationship(s): Gabriel Reyes/Jack Morrison Warnings: Disgusting Fluff (N/A) Words: 1,670 Additional Tags: Soft Old Men, Naps, Snoring, Cuddles (Platonic and Romantic), THE USUAL APOSTAPAL FARE

Summary: Jack Morrison snores. Loudly. And no one’s sure how Gabriel Reyes, otherwise known as the grouchiest person ever woken up from a nap, puts up with it like he does. Not even him.

A/N: Taking a break from sucking at games to write the sleepy old men stuff I keep thinking about when I go into work in the mornings. See full title HERE.

(ao3)

Gabriel first learned of the unspoken joys of bunking with his new partner pretty much the first night of assignment. J. Morrison had the bunk over his, didn’t move a lot in his sleep, and snored. Good God, did he snore.

“You been to a doctor or something about that, bro?” he asked a few days in, over coffee and shitty scrambled eggs.

Morrison--no, Jack. They were on a first name basis now, right? Jack made a face, nose scrunched, and shook his head.

“They couldn’t do anything for it,” he said, “just told me it isn't sleep apnea so it's not really a major concern.”

How it wasn't sleep apnea was a mystery to Gabriel but he supposed they were with the best medical professionals this side of the world. Maybe they had a point. Or maybe they just wanted him to suffer.

Jack swapped to the bottom bunk. Gabriel slept on the top and hoped that somehow the enclosed space below would help drown out the noise. It never did. Some nights starting out he barely slept. It made the extensive testing and training even more draining. Jack seemed genuinely apologetic but there was little either of them could do baring requesting reassignment.

And by the time the first week went by that idea left Gabriel’s mind completely. He was stuck with Jack Morrison, by choice or not.

Eventually, Gabriel even gave up on earplugs. They had a tendency to fall out and never really helped much to begin with. It just wasn’t worth it. Instead, he just tried to find some miraculous way to sleep through it all. It took a few months before pure exhaustion got the better of him.

The first time Gabriel crawled into bed with Jack was a night he didn’t expect to really sleep through anyway. They were both miserable, too cold and shaky and Jack’s body seemed ready to fall apart at any moment.

It wasn't a ‘major seizure’ had been all the medical staff had to say about what happened earlier. Understandably, that did all of nothing to calm Gabriel’s concerns about his friend.

In the dim lighting Jack looked paler than usual. Slick with sweat on what little skin he had exposed from the cocoon of blankets around him. Jack hardly slept with blankets, this wasn't normal.

“You gonna be alright, cap?” he asked, balanced on the edge of Jack’s bed. He had to watch carefully to see the very slight shake of his head. “What do you need?”

“‘m cold,” Jack mumbled, voice thick from sickness.

Gabriel leaned down and ruffled affectionately at his hair, finding even it damp and clammy to the touch. “You've got all the blankets in our room, Jack,” he said, “and you know how they are about asking to raise the heat.”

Not that Gabriel wasn't tempted. He felt sore and shaky and cold himself, though clearly not to the degree Jack was coping with.

Jack shifted, peering out at him from his blanket nest, and it was utterly pathetic. Someone who could be so damn stoic and smug looking like a kicked puppy tugged at the most sensitive of Gabriel’s heartstrings.

“Can I lay down?” he asked, patting the bed next to Jack. Jack nodded and he flopped sideways onto the mattress next to him. “Can I touch you?” he asked. Jack’s body rocked with a tremor that shot Gabriel’s nerves up something awful but then he just nodded.

Gabriel tucked himself in closer, chin propped on Jack’s head and arms around his shoulders. Jack snuggled in against his chest gratefully. He squirmed briefly, freeing his arm to wrap it around Gabriel's waist, blankets flopping over with it. The combination of body heat was just enough to take the worst of the edge off.

He’d barely started to doze off when Jack started snoring. This wounded sounding thing, half choked off by the faint shivers still going through his body. But it managed to sound far less disruptive than usual. Instead of cutting the silence harshly it more seemed to fill it; like it was somehow preferable to not hearing Jack make any sound at all.

Gabriel fell asleep to the noise, Jack pressed to his chest, and was amazed he managed to get any rest at all. Still, Jack sleeping was worth the trouble.

Bedsharing, by the time they had an official word for what they were, wasn't a new experience. They managed to practically share a sleeping bag through half the Crisis and it was hard to tell what was more of a miracle; that both of them fit or that they didn't realize how clearly they felt about each other until later.

So crawling into their apartment on an average evening to the sound of Jack snoring loudly in the next room over hardly felt like a threat anymore. If anything, Gabriel felt anxiety and stress melting off him in waves. Jack was home, bed was warm, and he just had to climb in and sleep until his alarm rudely started the next day.

That night was a little different, though. The sound coming from Jack, though usually louder than a train horn, didn’t sound right. Gabriel paused in the doorway of their bathroom, watching him while he toweled off from a quick shower, and pondered over it.

The answer came to him when he finally climbed into bed next to Jack, rubbing up and down the line of his spine until the snore cut off and Jack stretched and rolled over to face him. He was bleary eyed and messy haired and... had something stuck to his nose?

“Are you wearing one of those drug store snore cures?”

Jack wrinkled his nose--at least as best he could with the stiff paper stuck to it. Gabriel fought a laugh, squeezing in closer even as Jack feigned sleepy annoyance and tucked his face against the pillow when the other man nuzzled up against his throat.

“It’s not working,” Gabriel hummed against his neck. “You’re louder than ever.”

Jack sighed and leaned back to look at him. “I was trying to help, since you keep getting in late. Figure you could use a slightly quieter room to fall asleep in.”

Gabriel shrugged and reached up to peel the nose strip off. Jack hissed softly, face scrunching, and Gabriel flicked it over his shoulder before pressing a kiss to Jack’s nose. Another crinkle of his nose but this one much more good natured.

“I’m used to it,” Gabriel explained easily. “Silence kind of freaks me out anymore.”

Silence meant no Jack. Silence meant he was probably alone. No one there to weigh him back down if panic bubbled up.

Jack pulled him in closer, fingers kneading into his shoulder muscles, and Gabriel went slack and pressed his face against the front of his throat. Felt more than heard him humming, like he was going to start purring. (If he got tired enough sometimes the snoring felt similar.)

“Better not have spent too much on those,” he mumbled, already half asleep. Jack laughed sleepily in response.

“Did it really make it louder?”

“You sounded like you do when you get sick.”

Another laugh. Jack squeezed him just a hair closer, nose tucked against the top of his head. “I’m getting my damn money back.”

Gabriel didn’t manage to fall asleep until Jack’s snore started up. Normally now. The irony of it wasn’t lost on him even in sleep.

Gabriel never realized how much he'd missed it until he found himself properly back in the company of Jack Morrison’s deadly snoring. It made sleeping so much less of a production. He could settle in without a white noise maker and a miserable roommate.

No one else ever saw the appeal, however.

When Jack fell asleep on the old couch in their makeshift base of operations one afternoon Ana looked ready to die. But he never slept, which was presumably why she let him be and looked at Gabriel miserably over the terminal she was trying to work at.

Maybe he missed the look. Or maybe he just never really heard Jack’s snoring anymore. Whatever the reason, he glanced over at Jack sleeping away, arms propped under his head, and felt something warm and fuzzy in his chest. Stretching lazily as he got to his feet, he ambled over. But any hopes Ana might have had for peace and quiet were probably promptly dashed when he slowly settled himself down onto Jack’s chest.

Jack’s snore paused only a tick, just enough for him to grumble fondly and wrap his arms around Gabriel, and then it was back up to speed again. Gabriel thought he heard Ana sigh across the room. But only faintly with the noise next to his head.

He just tucked himself under Jack’s chin, safe and warm, and squeezed his eyes shut. And somehow that awful dying engine snore sounded like a lullaby now.

When they woke up it was only because Ana gave up and started dinner. Spice and warmth filled the air and Jack stirred before he did, yawning and clearing his throat roughly.

“When’d you get here?”

Jack’s voice was still hoarse from sleep, gravelly on the edges. Gabriel shifted some on his chest, tucking closer, and felt warm fingers trace over the curve of his cheek.

“Your spacial awareness is getting bad, old man.”

Gabriel yawned and stretched his legs out, toes digging into the fabric of the far armrest of the couch, but he largely refused to move. Stayed there, eyes shut and tucked under Jack’s chin. He felt him shift, laughter rumbling in his chest.

“Remember when you used to be a light sleeper?” Jack teased. He stretched his arms over his head, joints popping, and Gabriel pulled a face at the noise and the notion.

“Yeah, you went and ruined that,” he shot back, more tease than bite.

“Eh,” Jack said, half mumble, “you like it.”

And unfortunately, yeah, he kind of did.

#reaper76 #morreyeson #morreyes #fly writes fics

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friskarm · 6 years

Text

bitter, quiet sunset

summary: sequel to this fic. riko goes to see dia before kanan breaks mari’s heart. rikomari american exchange au words: 1270 pairings: rikomari (implied)

The halls are dyed a shade of sunset by the time Riko makes it to the student council room. She told Chika and You to go home without her – she had just a little business to attend to. Chika looked at her quizzically, but nodded and waved goodbye. If she had anything else to say, she could see her tonight, maybe. If Riko was home.

“Come in,” comes that stern voice as she knocks on the door – opens it, steps inside.

“Sakurauchi-san…?” Dia asks, pen stopped above a sheet of paper, confused, “What brings you here?”

They’ve hardly spoken before – Riko only knows of her what she’s heard from Mari, back in America, and what she’s seen from watching Chika interact with her. There’s a distinct difference now, though. Cast in hues of the setting sun, the room feels a little softer than the last time Riko was here. Dia is not the same person she was when talking to Chika, nor when Mari was a first-year. She is somewhere inbetween, a person of halves and a whole that is changed.

“I want to know what happened,” Riko says, wants to hiss as her voice doesn’t come out right, watches the corners of Dia’s mouth tighten just a bit, but she was prepared for this. She knows this is a sensitive topic; half expects Dia to run her out of the room in anger but instead Dia just looks sad. Riko regards her carefully. She doesn’t know what to expect – doesn’t know if she should expect anything at all.

“What happened with Mari-san, you mean?” Dia asks, appealing for confirmation. Riko can’t tell from her expression which answer she wants. Not that it matters – Riko came here with a purpose, and she doesn’t intend to be denied. Dia deflates a little as Riko nods, stands her ground. It’s a strange sight – seeing Dia shift from proud and even pompous in the day with Chika to quiet, reserved and gentle at the mention of Mari.

It’s just how Mari described her, Riko realises. She wonders just how much has changed, for all of them.

Dia closes her eyes gently, invites Riko to sit opposite, moves the paper in front of her away so sh e can speak without obstruction.

“I can’t say much,” she says, and Riko doesn’t need to hear her say it know – Kanan – “but I can say that I regret that day. Sometimes a little too much.”

Dia rubs her arms, keeps her eyes askance, avoids making eye contact with Riko because Riko is direct, and she knows Dia, despite everything, hasn’t been direct with people in a long, long time.

“What happened,” Riko insists, mouth firm and tight and worried, “that day?”

Dia creases her brow in worry – Riko’s not sure if she doesn’t know what to say, or doesn’t know how to say it.

“It was us,” she says, after too much hesitation and too little confidence. Dia’s voice is stripped bare of the fire she normally speaks with. Riko wonders if she has pushed too far, but – but she hasn’t come all this way for nothing. “We drove her away. We thought it was,” something, some emotion lies heavy in Dia’s words, choking, “the right thing to do, as her friends. Some kind of messed up logic that was.”

Riko traces the way Dia’s whole person shifts, hunched and small and nothing at all like herself. She almost wants to reach out, to comfort the girl, but Riko knows her place and it’s certainly not that. Mari could, though. If only Dia would let her in.

“We made Mari think she had to take the exchange,” Dia says, worrying her lip raw. It looks like it hurts. “It was calculated, insidious and wrong. But we thought we were right – that the end justified the means. But now Mari is back, and everything’s changed, all over again.”

Dia sighs, her voice weighed down. “We should have seen it coming, in all truth. Mari never did let anyone else determine her future.”

Riko can’t help a small smile – it feels like she’s getting a glimpse of a Mari long gone, a person closer to the past than she should.

“She really didn’t,” Riko nods, feeling a little warmer. “The teachers tried to enforce a ridiculous amount of homework, but Mari didn’t want to do it. Didn’t see the point, if it conflicted with how she normally studied. She got away with it, too.”

Riko misses out the part where Mari did it for her, because Riko certainly wasn’t enough of a person most days to do it; could hardly attend classes on the days where things were a little bit okay. She thinks Dia gets it somehow, anyway. Mari never did anything without someone else in mind. Selfishness in selflessness. An obfuscation to hide her kindness, over and over. People could look her in the eyes and tell her she was the most selfish person they’d ever met, and Mari would agree. Seven charities and community service and everything she could possibly do for anyone who asked wasn’t enough for her. If she didn’t suffer for it, it wasn’t enough. (Riko likes to think she helped, at least with the self-deprecation. They both got just a little bit better, somehow.)

Dia laughs a little, warm and loose like she’s not the student council president, like she’s the person Mari described to her when she was fifteen and freshly hurt.

“That does sound like her,” she says, tilting her head and shoulders like memories of Mari are a familiar, comforting place (they certainly are for Riko). “When we were younger, she’d protest against getting sent out to stand in the hall by playing games, and having more fun outside than in the classroom. The teachers had no idea how to deal with her, so they just let her do as she pleased.”

Riko feels a laugh broil in her stomach, she lets it pass gently through her lips. She can’t laugh too much, though – fond as Dia seems of Mari, she admits she hurt her.

(She regrets it, Riko reminds herself not to hate, but forgive. She regrets it more than anything, but the sound of her voice.)

It takes a few seconds for Riko to accept that Dia is a person who’s made mistakes – that’s all. Someone who means the world to Mari – moreso than anyone other than Kanan. Riko can see it, a bit – in the way Dia folds in on herself, only to unfurl as she’s brought to life. Mari would definitely, definitely have seen the best of her.

“I missed her,” Dia says, so softly Riko barely catches it. The laughter is gone; any fleeting moment of joy in memories of Mari is gone with the reality of the future they chose. Riko stands, rises from the chair and bows to Dia.

“Thank you, Kurosawa-san,” she says, before turning to leave. Dia’s head is still hanging from her shoulders. Riko turns her head before she steps out the door. “Mari still misses you, you know. More than anything,” her voice turns bitter, “she just wants her best friends back.”

Riko wonders, as she walks down the hall, if that was too cruel. Is Dia crying? Does she hurt?

Mari hurt for an entire year, holding out only on the hope that things would be better once she came back – but they weren’t, so the wounds that had been carved into her skin and bones only bled deeper.

Riko still feels cruel. Somewhere deep inside her chest, she wishes she could take those words back.

#kurosawa dia #sakurauchi riko #ohara mari #rikomari #love live! sunshine!!#what the fuck is my writing tag again #latenight feeling like garbage so i shat out a fic

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ladyninjaa · 7 years

Text

Warmth Pt 4

Imagine: Being the little sister of Daenerys and admitting you love Jon Snow.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Exhausted, you flattened yourself against Rhaegal feeling his burning warmth as he glided through the sky. You kept your face down not wanting biting snow to stab at your already numb face. There are crystal tears streaming down your face and you have never felt so numb before. You left without knowing what happened to Jon…he had been just a few feet away from you, you look away for seconds, and suddenly he is gone.

Just like Viserion.

The lump in your throat grows and you bit your cheek to restrain the sorrow from exploding out from you. You swallow harshly and wonder what you could’ve done differently…had you been paying more attention would Viserion and Jon be alive?

Viserion…I am so sorry….you think pitifully.

Your heart is breaking and you weren’t sure if living was worth it. Everything that has happened…was it worth it now? The man you fell in love with was gone…the dragon you loved the most was dead….what more could life take from you?

The hours seemed like eternities.

You heard another screech greet your ears. You lift your head up and Eastwatch comes into view. Drogon is flying near to his brother and sees that you are on his back—both his brother and sister are back unharmed. Eastwatch looks unnaturally gloomy and eerie…lifeless and dull—like you now.

You barely register when Rhaegal lands in the courtyard sending the men scrambling away from the large beast. Daenerys is rushing out of the safety of the warm halls and towards you with frantic violet eyes. Jorah is right behind her looking equally frightened and panicked. You tiredly make way off Rhaegal but are grabbed by Jorah and then engulfed by your sister.

She is crying…

You haven’t seen her cry in a very long time…

Is she crying because you are alive or because her child is dead? Perhaps both?

You are barely there…you feel as if your mind is elsewhere….perhaps it was back to where Viserion died or where Jon died? You couldn’t know but you just knew that your heart and mind weren’t where your physical body was.

You felt so lost.

Never have you felt so hopeless and lost not even when you were trapped in a fighting pit surrounded by the Sons of the Harpy. Not even when Drogon was smothered by your sister and her child dead. Never have you felt such feeling.

Daenerys is staring at you feeling relieved and that you are back and unharmed but she sees the lifeless look in your pretty violet eyes. She chokes back a sob because you have lost more then her—not only did the both of you lose Viserion but you have lost the only man you have ever loved.

She knows the feeling and hates that you feel that way now.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” Daenerys attempts to draw life back into you but fails.

You stand numbly and stare at nothing. There are no more tears running down your face…your body cannot produce anymore. “Khaleesi, let us bring her inside. She is shaking from the cold. We’ll have the Maester check her for any unseen injuries.” Jorah’s thick voice broke through Daenerys’s chanting.

Daenerys cannot help the grief and turmoil that spreads through her. This is the last thing she wanted to see after such a horrendous tragedy. Even through the darker times back in Essos…Daenerys always looked towards you and your bright smiles to get her through but now, your light is gone…died away when Jon fell through the ice.

Daenerys didn’t have the heart to even bring his name up.

You were too fragile…too broken.

You were brought inside and stripped down from your wet and cold clothes. You were given a plain gown after a warm bath—not too hot or else your body would go into shock. You don’t remember anything and you don’t bother too…you keep replaying the scenes from earlier…the army of the dead…the knight king…Viserion dying…Jon just a few feet away from you…Rhaegal coming back to save you.

Daenerys was sitting at your bedside. You were staring lifelessly at the door. You hadn’t uttered a single word since your arrival and it was driving Daenerys insane with worry. She already lost her child…she couldn’t lose you too.

“Was it all real?” She hears your broken whisper…just barely.

Her eyes are on you…your face looks ghostly and your eyes void of life. Her heart constricts in a painful way. She wants to cry her heart out for you…you do not deserve this grief…if only she had put more trust in Jon then both him and her dragon would be alive and you wouldn’t be so…dead-like and broken.

Daenerys knows she must be strong for you. She cannot show her tears in front of you. She needs to be there just like you were there for her when Drogon was dead and her child born deformed. She will re-build the light inside of you…even though she had no idea how.

“Yes.” Daenerys answers quietly.

In the dim lighting of the room, you feel your heart crack. Your sister is trying to be strong for you…you blink back the tears threatening to fall once again and whisper, “He was…so close and then he was gone.” The strife in your voice swayed Daenerys greatly.

Should she tell you?

“He fell through the ice trying to get to you.” Daenerys uttered trying to sound gentle.

Your red-stained eyes are on your sister. “What?” You whispered. He died trying to save you? Just like Viserion.

Daenerys almost regretted saying anything, “While I was flying away…I saw Jon trying to reach you but he fell through the ice and that was all I saw.” Liar, Daenerys told herself, you saw the dead pulling Jon deeper into the water.

There was no response from you.

Daenerys feared the worst.

You didn’t want to believe that Viserion and Jon died because of you. Was this true pain? Did your sister go through this exact turmoil? How did she…live through it? How can one bypass this incredible and horrible pain?

You had enough of living.

Without a word you lied down and buried your face into a pillow hoping the sleep would consume you for at least a little while. Daenerys helplessly watched for a few minutes before getting up and leaving your room.

What could she do?

She could do a lot of things but bringing the dead back wasn’t one of them.

“She isn’t well.”

“I need to see her.”

“She might go into shock.”

“She was pretty beaten up when she returned on Rhaegal.”

There were whispers outside your door. You could hardly remember how you ended up in this warm bed and in this small room. You were confused…the last thing you remembered was Rhaegal saving you from the undead.

Your mouth was dry and your throat rough.

Where was I? You wondered as suddenly the room swayed to the side and creaked heavily. You furrowed your eyebrows, Am I on a ship? You wondered unsure how you were even brought onto a boat without being awake.

Had you been that deep into a sleep that you did not feel them moving your body onto the boat?

The door is thrown open and you are jolted out of your thoughts. Standing there is Jon. There is only a loose white shirt on him and black trousers. You are incredibly confused…”Is this a dream?” You asked seeing your sister and Jorah behind him.

Daenerys is looking incredibly annoyed but she is relieved that you were awake. You looked much better then a few days prior. Jon stood there looking at the woman he loved…he had feared the worst but he had been able to emerge from the ice just in time to see Rhaegal flying away with you on his back.

“No.” Daenerys answers quietly as Jon simply stares at you and you stare back at him. “Come Jorah. I think these lovebirds need a moment.” You see the soft smile on her face and know this was far from a dream. Jon was alive and he was standing in front of you looking nothing sort of some…Warrior King.

Jorah doesn’t seem to approve but nods to his Queen’s request.

You don’t waste a second and throw yourself rather clumsily at Jon. He catches you with a laugh—a sound that makes your heart sings an angel choir. His warmth is back and his smile brings your heart back to life. You couldn’t help but to cry out of pure joy. “I know, I know…” He coos in a voice you thought you had lost forever. Your hands are caressing his face feeling the warmth from his flesh. His are tightly and securely around you protecting you from anything and everything.

“I thought I lost you too…” You say with a sniffle.

He shook his head and brings his lips onto yours sweetly, “You will never lose me, Y/N. I will never leave you alone.” He mumbles as you kiss just as sweetly.

“I love you, Jon Snow. I have fallen in love with you and I cannot bear the thought of being away from your side.” You declare softly as you hold his wonderful and handsome face in your hands. He stares at you with tenderness and knows that the Gods have given him a rare woman to love. Ygritte had been a shade of amber that he had loved but Y/N was his shades of gold that he would never let go of.

He’ll never understand the sense of comfort and love that Y/N always gave him…but he wouldn’t bother to.

His heart was lost to this woman.

“I love you, Y/N Targaryen.” He says caressing her face now admiring her regal features and her glimmering violet eyes, “And I vow to make you my woman and make you the happiest in the world.”

You couldn’t help but to smile goofily at him, “Is that a promise?” You mused feeling your heart jolt with happiness.

“Yes.” Jon smiles back at you.

Despite of what happened, life had returned to you. A part of you had died when Viserion parted from this world…but at least Jon was alive and he was here…giving you his warmth just like in the very beginning.

“We have a long journey ahead of us, I am afraid.” Jon sighs as he sits you down on your bed, “The War is ahead of us…We meet with Cersei in a few weeks…” He trails off and suddenly the weight of the world is on his shoulders again.

You rub his cheek with your hand, “And I will be by your side, Jon. Whatever happens at least I have you and my sister with me.” You say thoughtfully.

Jon can’t help but to smile. He can’t remember not smiling often before meeting you. You are this world’s ray of hope and he dared any man to deny it. He couldn’t help but to wonder about what the future held for the both of you but he would fight with all of his will to make that future bright.

It wasn’t long until you and Jon were in bed. You were sleeping soundly—lured into sleep by the sounds of the waves rocking the ship and Jon making patterns into your flesh with the tips of his fingers. He watched your angelic face as you slept…you looked so peaceful even in such a state.

He wanted to live like this…just the two of you wrapped up in bed and nothing else would exist.

There was a knock and a second later Daenerys entered. She wasn’t surprised by the sight she saw. In fact, it warmed her heart. The expression of peace that graced your face was rewarding to her. She smiled slightly, “Thank you.” Daenerys found herself saying.

Jon peered at her, “For what?”

Daenerys answered simply, “For bringing her warmth.”

@thegingerthatwaited

#game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #jon snow imagine #imagine

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jayne-hecate-writer · 6 years

Text

Computers

As writers, we often use modern technology, while giving little thought to the actual machines that we use or just how complicated they are. For me, that changed this week when I was introduced to a new machine and after a long painful week, we are only now becoming friends.

Although I am writing this on my old, battered and somewhat broken Chromebook, I am now in possession of a shiny new Lenovo computer. It has not been an easy journey, especially as I am being forced against my will to learn how to use a new operating system. For many years now, I have been a firm believer in the joys of Linux, or more precisely, the utter joy that is the Ubuntu operating system. It is a thing of beauty, a light weight, simple to use OS that has every function that the budding writer could wish for. My main system is built on this platform and performs flawlessly most of the time, as with all computers there is the occasional glitch, but most of the time, it is joyous to use.

The Chromebook is a different story though. Without an internet connection, the functionality of the Chromebook is so bad that Darling Wifey and I renamed it the Crapbook. To add further insult, if there is a wifi connection, the office software on the Chromebook is so bad, that it destroys formats and leaves documents unusable on other platforms. Not great when swapping between machines. Why do I need to swap between machines? Well, there are many reasons, some days I am so poorly with pain, I am unable to leave my bed and the bulk of a desk top computer does not easily transfer to the bedroom, especially with twin monitors and all of the exciting ancillaries that I use. Also, when I attend writers classes, the damage to my hands prevents the use of pen and paper for a six hour day. So a laptop is an invaluable tool for me.

This brings us up to last week the death of the second hand (read rescued from a skip) gold coloured HP Pavilion. This is a computer that has been flawed from the start. The original owner scrapped it because the logic board is obviously dying, the keyboard has several letters that don’t work and start up takes approximately fifteen long painful minutes. I had installed Ubuntu on it with the help of a dear friend, which gave it some hope of lasting a while, but even this olive branch was not enough to maintain the machine and with a final fart of contempt, it let out the magic smoke that ran the processor. It also turns out that the Ram slots are so worn out, the cards sit in by the peer pressure alone.

The man in the hybrid that is now Curry’s PC World was unhelpful in a way that I have never met before in a sales adviser. Given that he works in a computer shop and has done so for many months, it came as a surprise to be told that he knew less about computers than he knew about Honda CB750s from the 1970s! Having walked out in disgust, our only choice was the peril that is Argos. Electronic goods from Argos are a gamble, the buyer cannot guarantee that the new piece of equipment has not been kicked around the warehouse during a mid war football game! So it was with some trepidation that I slapped the hard currency down on the counter and walked away with a shiny new machine. My first new computer since the failed Chromebook experiment.

With the obvious understanding that Linux would not work on my new machine, I was forced to sign my soul away to the Microsoft agreement on start up of my new machine. I flicked through the small print and was thankful not to find any reference to sacrificing my first born to Bill Gates in the deal, as a committed Linux user, I felt like a dirty class traitor to be using Windows again. However, this feeling of dirtiness soon changed to a feeling of frustration as I was forced to endure hour after hour of update. In total, it took twenty seven hours for the new machine to update the OS, so for just over a day, my new computer was utterly unusable. Mind you, I own a Chromebook and thus am used to this level of functionality.

The biggest shock came when I discovered that the tray on the side of the computer that I had assumed was a DVD drive, turned out to be an empty blank. The advert on line stated that a DVD was provided, the owners manual that came in the box told me that it had the latest DVD software. It might well have done, but with no actual optical drive present, it was hardly useful.What followed was a hurried chat with an independent computer shop and slapping down another £20 for a DVD Rom drive, the fitting of which was an ordeal I was looking forwards to.

Removing the plastic blanking tray from the computer was easy, fitting the new optical drive was not. I had to make a clip that bolted onto the back of the new drive and then could screw into computer. This was fairly easy, I used the metal from a recycled drink can (thank you 7Up!) and drew out a paper pattern which I then transferred to the metal with the aid of a sharp needle. The cover of the optical drive though, did not fit into the chassis of the computer, so I was forced to attack my new system with some sandpaper, filing down the plastic until the drive fitted perfectly. That was an exhilarating experience, it feels very wrong sanding away parts of a new computer, but the result was perfect. I now have the computer that I need, it has a working keyboard, a single USB port and a DVD drive for data storage.

Have I used this new machine yet for any actual writing? Errr, no. Instead I have been installing all of the black metal I need to listen to as I write. I have also been installing the Office software from Libre Office because Microsoft Office is no longer that helpful paperclip of doom that it once was. I have also been fighting my way around a recently updated Windows 10 that seems like a clunky giant of an OS that is fragile at best and downright rude at worst. I miss the simplicity of Linux, the clean start up and ease of use. But it is nice not to have to program directly into the terminal, when I need a new piece of software. Windows is clearly designed to remove the process of actual joyous computing from the ‘Idiots’ who buy it, but I have slapped on the Star Wars Stickers that I was given for my Birthday, making the computer look a Cosplay nerd at a Sci-Fi convention.

So the new computer now lives on my bookshelf, ready for when inspiration takes hold... Well once I have allowed it to install the almost daily updates and struggled through the toxic minefield of Microsoft OS. At least I have finally finished my scrap wood built desk that houses my old and reliable main system. It is amazing what can be achieved with some old green planks and a few plasterboard battens. From the cardboard model I made late so many months ago, I now have the best desk in the world, upon which I poured the stripped out guts of my new laptop as I tried to make it as close to my needs as possible.

Happy days

#Ubuntu #linux #microsoft #Windows 10 #creative writing #star wars #pc world #bad service #argos #Laptop Computers

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pleasefeedthebirds · 7 years

Text

“Send Me a Headcanon and I’ll Tell What OC I Associate it With - Part 2″ NaNoWriMo Prep

Original post credited to @the-moon-dust-writings

And also thanks to my boy @boundtoanandroid for sending me this because I love bringing up the morally gray trash creatures I call my NaNoWriMo OCs.

Now let’s do some gotdamn headcanons.

Likes their music loud: The captain, Marcelle O’Bithel, without a doubt. As far as she’s concerned, she’s over the hill and thus ready to party as much as she can before dying. She’d stoke the fires of any tavern band any day, so long as no one truly respectable objected to it.

Would poison someone if given the chance: If Kaia sincerely saw Agnetha one day as a threat to Marcelle’s safety, she’d cunningly off the old crone with decisive action, but considerable sadness.

Always happy: As long as Gideon’s got a body to live in and the charm necessary to make friends on the go, he’s got a song in his heart, a skip in his step, and a silver lining to fall back on wherever he looks.

Afraid of spiders: Just as an elephant fears a mouse, Svorlen despises the little things as if they personally hanged his mother. However, Rostov is always the first to squash them out of their sense of duty, despite the masses of remorse they feel for doing so.

Would jump out of a plane: Svorlen would present the crew with the idea, to which the captain and in turn Mirabel would readily agree. Kaia would need some convincing, before shrugging it off and going down with the ship. Dune would thoroughly oppose it, but eventually cave, while Rostov and Gideon would stick to the sidelines out of their similar fear of heights and physical exertion.

Calls people ‘Dude’: Kaia and Svorlen are both guilty parties, though the former is significantly more so.

Wants to just lay down and not move: Rostov would love nothing more. Of course, the captain would allow them their wish to a reasonable extent if they only just asked, but Rostov is too loyal to their duties to willingly take it easy.

Has the perfect come backs: Kaia and Gideon generally have a mutual respect for each other’s abilities, though this is especially the case when it comes to tearing down catcallers in the local taverns.

Can punch someone and the person they punched would thank them: A punch from Kaia, or rather, the fabled “Papillon-Rouge,” would earn someone free drinks for a year in return for a glimpse of the scar.

Listens to everything but common sense: Marcelle’s always a willing ear, unless someone’s telling her anything that’s for her own good.

Gives nicknames to others: Mirabel’s woodcarving talents ensure that everyone’s bunks feature some of her abundant, occasionally nonsensical nicknames.

Likes to talk to code: Again, the winsome nature of Mirabel would find great joy in the concept of a code language.

Doesn’t open up to others very easily: It isn’t even Rostov’s lack of a tongue that makes them hardly inclined to talk about their self.

Is painfully obvious on who they like: Though Rostov tries to be an altruist in love and distance their self from the subject of their affections, the majority of the crew has them figured out in a split second.

Would get a tattoo on a whim: Svorlen would ink up in a heartbeat. Probably even faster if it were for the purpose of a dare.

Has a strong eyebrow game: Rostov’s bushier brows frankly suit them, even if they refuse to belief it could ever be so.

Would jump off a building: In a crime of passion, Captain Marcelle just might.

Likes to travel: Marcelle makes it clear that even a pirate captain can appreciate the scenery, though Mirabel is open to stow away on any promising adventure just as well.

Likes roses: Both the supple beauty of rose petals and the brutal sting of the thorns are well appreciated by Mirabel.

Talks in song lyrics: If it were for the purpose of entertaining Kaia, Marcelle would recite an entire musical ballad on the first of her whims.

Is tol: Svorlen, and he ensures that it’s hard to miss.

Is smol: Rostov is second in smolness only next to Marcelle, though the captain makes up for it and more in personality.

Would murder someone if given the opportunity: Mirabel is a sincerely deadly force when she acts upon her philosophy of judgement. If her “one bullet” rule did someone in, then she’d say so be it.

Had a sad childhood: Though Rostov, Gideon, and Svorlen all had it bad to varying degrees, Dune’s was the most severe.

Loves their parents: Rostov loved their mother as much as Mirabel loved her father, but it’s Kaia who still maintains the strongest relationship with her parents.

Hates fish: Svorlen can’t stand the taste, texture, sight, or smell of the things.

Questions everything: Rostov can never seem to keep their rampant thoughts from turning to contemplation.

Would keep up with celebrity gossip: He wouldn’t be proud to admit it, but Gideon would most likely be in the know on the juiciest, most slanderous filth. Marcelle could easily harbor a guilty pleasure for it, too.

Would make it rain in the club: Dune would absolutely kill the mood just by looking at the dance floor the wrong way.

Likes hugs: There are few things that Gideon loves more than the sheer comfort of a loving, expressly consensual hug.

Kisses their partner good night: Giving his wife a peck on the forehead is as crucial in Gideon’s routine as shedding his foppish attire in favor of bedclothes.

Likes to give piggybacks: Svorlen is a self-declared madman when it comes to piggyback rides, ready to take two, maybe even three willing victims onto his broad back at once. Dune secretly aspires to be half as good as him at it someday.

Likes to sing in the vehicle: Marcelle is quick to rouse a song, while Mirabel and Svorlen are always the first to join the round. So long as she’s alone, Kaia gives new meaning to her role in the crow’s nest by belting like a songbird.

Would join the circus: Svorlen would risk life and limb as an acrobat if it meant he could have an audience, though Dune would likely be the most qualified for a role.

Could be a stand up comedian: Rostov’s self-deprecating nature might just be able to make itself useful for once in the world of stand up if it weren’t for anxiety.

Has bad luck: If Dune ever got married, there would probably be a tornado on his wedding day.

Likes pretzels: If she ever heard the rumor that pretzels were stylized to look like children in prayer, Mirabel would revere them for everything they stood for

Loves the rain: If he could get away with it, Svorlen would strip naked and run barefoot through a field at every first sign of a storm.

Can knock out someone’s tooth in one punch: As a proud pugilist, Dune might not even be lying when he claims that he’s done it before.

Will kiss someone to steal their wallet: Kaia would do all that and spit at their feet if she thought it were well-deserved.

#nanowrimo prep #ocs #rostov vasiliev #marcelle o'bithel #mirabel reed #svorlen sommer #dune eskandar #kaia madrigal #gideon blythe

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chocolatequeennk · 7 years

Text

Death Cannot Stop True Love

It's a familiar scene. Cybermen and Daleks, and a lever that won't stay locked. But this time, Rose holds on just a little bit longer. This time, she does something no one expects. This time, he'll discover that she made her choice a long time ago, and she's never going to leave him.

Doomsday fixit, Bad Wolf!Rose

This is for the “Rose regenerates” prompt on @doctorroseprompts. It was betaed by @lastbluetardis--thank you!.

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Online and locked.

The suction of the Void, which had dwindled to not much more than a strong gust of wind, returned to full strength immediately. Daleks and Cybermen soared through the air into the open breach, but the Doctor ignored them all. Every atom of his existence was focused the woman clinging to the lever on the other side of the room.

Rose’s fear pulsed over their bond. “We’ll get pulled in,” she’d said, not fifteen minutes earlier as he’d explained his plan to return the Daleks and Cybermen to the Void.

Watching as the suction slowly lifted Rose’s body until she was parallel with the floor, the Doctor wished he’d sent her Pete’s World with her mother, despite her refusal when he’d asked. She would’ve been angry with him, but at least she’d be alive and not trapped in the Void.

Rose’s fingers slipped on the grip, and she grunted and readjusted her hold as the Doctor watched, his fear turning to panic.

Hold on, love—please! he begged.

A moment later, serene calm brushed against his mind. I’m never gonna leave you. Before he could point out how impossible that promise was, she set her jaw and shifted so her fingers were locked together, with the lever in-between her clasped hands.

For a few seconds—ten, maybe fifteen—the Doctor thought the better grip would be enough. Rose would be able to hold on until the breach closed, and then he would take her into his arms and not let go of her until his heart rate returned to normal… possibly sometime next month.

Then he saw her fingers slip, a fraction of an inch. Time swirled around her, and he couldn’t tell who would have the victory—Rose, clinging to the lever, or the Void, pulling her inexorably closer.

It happened in a heartbeat: one, slow-motion heartbeat. A slip, a scream, and she was falling.

“Rose!” the Doctor shouted, her name echoing in the room as she fell towards the gaping maw of the open Void.

She held his gaze as she fell, her arms outstretched for him to grab her and pull her back. I love you.

For once, all words failed the Doctor. The most he could manage was to project his love to her over their bond in the last few seconds of her life.

The air shifted and the wind died down. The intense white light coming through the open breach faded, and just beyond Rose, the Doctor saw the walls between the worlds knit themselves back together. His hearts jumped into his throat. Please, he begged the universe and Time. Please let her stay with me.

Rose twisted in mid-air as she struggled to pull free of the weakening force of the Void. Her legs pushed through the air like she was treading water, and she’d almost managed to get her feet on the ground when her back slammed into the wall.

The Doctor winced when he heard the thud of her body hitting the solid wall, but exhilaration still coursed through him as his feet touched the ground. He could heal any injuries she’d sustained. She was still with him—that made it all worthwhile.

“We made it!” he crowed as he ran to where she lay crumpled against the wall.

He registered her stillness a second before he reached her, but he ruthlessly squashed the dread that threatened to overtake him for the hundredth time that day. The bond was still there, though her end was quiet, as if she were asleep.

“Rose?” he called when he touched her shoulder. Her body flopped lifelessly into his arms when he pulled her towards him, and he furiously blinked back the tears that threatened. “No, please love,” he begged. Her neck was bent at an unnatural angle, and even though he knew what must have happened, he pressed two fingers to neck, frantically looking for a sign of life.

A scream clawed its way from his throat when he found no pulse. The Doctor gathered his bondmate into his arms and cradled her body to him as he rocked back and forth, yelling wordlessly at the vindictive universe that had given him hope, only to yank it away so cruelly.

The last remnant of life was the telepathic bond linking their minds, unbreakable except by death. The Doctor threw himself into the warm feeling of her mind around his, even though there was no conscious response, no answering flicker of love to greet him. This was where he belonged, and this was where he would stay, until even this final bit of Rose was taken from him.

A warning buzzed along his time senses, but he ignored it. Time had taken her from him when he’d begged that she be allowed to stay; Time could damn well leave him alone to grieve.

The TARDIS hummed in his mind next. You must put her down, Thief.

The Doctor’s answering snarl caught in his throat when he felt the pulse of energy moving under his hands. He looked down at her body, hardly daring to believe what he sensed was happening, but the gold light rippling beneath her skin was unmistakeable.

Dozens of questions went through his mind as he set Rose down and scrambled back a few steps—dozens of questions, and one fact that became gloriously clear to him as the golden energy of time streamed from her hands.

He hadn’t lost Rose. He might never lose Rose.

He watched glossy chestnut curls replace her dyed blonde hair and a dusting of freckles appear over the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Then she blinked, and he fell in love all over again when her blue eyes looked at him.

Rose stared at the Doctor, who was looking at her the way he did a star being born. She pushed herself to her feet, trying to pin down why she felt so… different. The answer came when a reddish brown curl fell into her face.

“Doctor?” Her voice was husky, and she cleared her throat, wondering if she was getting sick. “What happened?”

He brushed the strand of hair back over her ear. The familiar gesture soothed her anxiety, as did the absolute joy she could feel from him over their bond.

“You regenerated, love. Well…” He winced. “You hit the wall and died, and then you regenerated.”

Echoes of memories returned to Rose, and she nodded slowly. “Bad Wolf changed me somehow, didn’t it?”

“That’s the only possible answer,” he agreed. “And we can talk about this more at home, but right now, I estimate we have about five minutes before UNIT arrive, and I’d like to be far away from here before then.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Ready to go home?”

Rose took his hand, and he bounced lightly on his toes and grinned down at her. “Rose Tyler… run!” he whispered gleefully, and they took off down the stairs until they reached the storage room the TARDIS was tucked away in. They heard boots in the next corridor over as they turned the key in the lock, and both giggled madly as they burst into the console room and quickly set the ship in motion, taking her to the Time Vortex.

“I’m gonna go clean up and change,” Rose told the Doctor. “It’s been a long day.”

He bent down and brushed a kiss over her lips, then smiled at her. “I’ll be right behind you,” he promised.

As Rose walked to their room, the weight of the day started to settle on her shoulders. Her mum was gone—but she forcibly shoved that thought aside until she had time to properly grieve the loss.

Cybermen and bloody Daleks, she thought bitterly as she entered the room. She unzipped her cardi and tossed it straight into the bin, knowing the memories of today would make it impossible to wear it again.

She felt surprisingly clean, then she realised that she’d gotten new skin—new everything—since she’d felt the layer of dust and sweat coating her skin earlier.

Rose shrugged off the weird thought and changed into a soft cotton vest and sleep shorts. Her energy was fading, and if she didn’t need to spend time in the shower, she wasn’t going to question the blessing.

Out of habit, she walked into the en-suite to wash her face before going to bed. The first look in the mirror hit her like a slap in the face.

There was not a single feature she recognised. Her height was the same, and her figure hadn’t changed enough to really alter the way her clothes fit, but beyond that… Her fingers trembled as they touched the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror.

Who is this person?

Another face appeared behind hers, one she knew this time, and she met the Doctor’s gaze in the mirror. “I… I don’t…” She shook her head.

He didn’t move from where he stood by the doorway, his hands twitching at his sides. “I think we should talk a bit.”

Rose flinched; that was never a good way to start a conversation. Comprehension and then an apology came through over the bond, but she couldn’t relax, even with that small reassurance.

“Relax, love,” he told her quietly. “I just think you probably have some questions and concerns we should talk about, rather than pretending they don’t exist.”

He stepped back and motioned to the open door, and Rose blew out a breath and shuffled into the bedroom. The Doctor quickly stripped out of his suit, then sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard and patted the empty spot next to him. Rose bit her lip, then went around to her side of the bed and sat down.

The Doctor scooted closer and reached immediately for her hand. “Where do you want to start, Rose?” He rubbed his thumb over his knuckle.

Rose wriggled a little on the bed. This was her Doctor—the same man she’d been in love with for nearly three years, the man she’d been married to for six months. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend nothing had changed.

Except his hand felt different in hers. It still felt right, but her new hands with their long, slender fingers slotted into his differently.

What if that wasn’t the only thing that was different? And what if she felt different to him, too? What if he wasn’t attracted to her anymore, or what if he didn’t like the way her new touch felt?

She opened her mouth, then closed it again almost immediately. How could she ask her bond mate if he still wanted her?

“I didn’t realise how hard this would be for you,” the Doctor said quietly.

“I just don’t… am I still me? Are we still us? Do you still…” She sighed and pulled her hand from his, wrapping her arms over her chest.

The Doctor shifted so he could look Rose in the eye. Her uncertainty was painfully familiar—he’d had all the same questions after his regeneration, only without the fear that his change would interfere with their bond.

He ached to pull her into his arms and just hold her. It had been a long, difficult day, and for a few terrible minutes, he’d thought he’d lost her. If he could just hold her, he could reassure her that he would always want her, and reassure himself that she was really there.

But Rose needed words, so he swallowed back the lump in his throat and opened his mouth.

“You’re still the same Rose Tyler you were when you woke up this morning.” He reached hesitantly for her hand and smiled when she let him take it. “Yes, your fingers feel different in mine, and your almost-ginger hair is certainly a change from what you’re used to—either your natural colour or your preferred shade.”

He took a breath. “But in my mind, Rose… you still feel the same there. Your body has changed, but who you are hasn’t. And I didn’t fall in love with you or marry you for your body. I asked you to be my bondmate because I love who you are.”

Over the bond, he could feel Rose considering his words, weighing them against her own insecurities. The tip of her tongue poked out when she was deep in thought, and the Doctor knew instantly that this was a quirk that would drive him to distraction.

Mischief sparkled in Rose’s eyes when she picked up on that thought, as he’d intended. She shifted closer to him and pulled a strand of hair into her line of vision. “Almost-ginger, huh?” she drawled.

“Yes. Your first regeneration, and you’ve gotten closer to red hair than I have in nine attempts.”

“Well, if I knew how I’d done it, I’d give you pointers,” she teased.

The Doctor pouted, inwardly relieved that she seemed to be doing better, at least for the moment. He twined one of her curls around his finger, then pulled it loose and watched the curl bounce.

Rose giggled, and the Doctor was shocked when the sound brought tears to his eyes. He realised why almost immediately; he’d ignored his own hurt to take care of her, and hearing her laughter was the permission he needed to break down.

He shifted back to his original position against the headboard and pulled a surprised but non-protesting Rose into his arms. Rose… oh, love, he called to her as he pressed his forehead to hers. Her breath was slow and even compared to his harsh panting as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Rose ran a soothing hand through his hair. What’s wrong, love?

He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, controlling the sobs that threatened to break loose. “I… You were… I thought I’d lost you,” he managed finally, his voice raspy. “First, I thought you were going to be trapped in the Void, and then…” He clenched his eyes shut. “I sat there, holding your dead body and waiting for the bond to break.”

“Oh, Doctor.”

Rose cuddled closer to him, and he broke when he buried his face in her hair. A moment later, he felt her hand stroking the sensitive spot above his temple as she murmured soothing reassurances in his ear.

“We’re here. We’re both home, together,” she promised. “And you won’t ever have to do that again, Doctor. Because I told you, didn’t I? I’m never going to leave you.”

His tears ended on a sudden gasp. She had told him that, and he’d dismissed it as impossible. But now…

The Doctor pulled back and looked at his bondmate with his time senses wide open. The beauty of what he saw brought fresh tears to his eyes, and he leaned down to capture her lips with his.

Rose Tyler, he said reverently as they shifted so they were lying on their sides. How long are you going to stay with me?

Using their bond, he let her see what Time had just shown him. A moment later, he felt her lips curve into a smile, then shift so she could scrape her teeth over his lower lip.

Arousal swirled between them, but the Doctor wanted an answer before they gave in to the heady pleasure of it. He pulled out of the kiss and opened his eyes, feeling a slight jolt when he saw her new face again.

Blue eyes smiled at him, before Rose moved closer and slid a leg over his hips. Forever, Doctor, she promised as she kissed him again. I’m going to stay with you forever.

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #cq's fic: death cannot stop true love #regenerating rose #bad wolf!rose is important to me #that's why i love it when she regenerates #because it means they actually have forever #romance #hurt/comfort #fic by Nancy

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argorpg-blog · 6 years

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CONGRATULATIONS and welcome to the crew of the Argo II, ROSE! The Gods have spoken: welcome aboard AMARUS, known as KIT ALEXANDER, with a faceclaim of AVAN JOGIA. Please take a look at our checklist, and send in your account in the next 24 hours.

ADMIN NOTES: Rose! The amount of detail and thought you put into your app was just astounding. Those little bits of color and extra thought (”plum carpet”!!) managed to make Kit a three dimensional, complex character to fall in love with. We were both absolutely blown away by the way you managed to convey his bitterness and complication with the gods without making it seem too overdone. We love Kit, and we’re excited to see him here!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME/ALIAS: Rose AGE, TIMEZONE, PRONOUNS: 20, GMT, she/her ACTIVITY & EXTRAS: I’m a university student who also works part-time, so I’m a busy bee lol. But I always find time to write so I should be around lurking pretty much always, and if not here for replies everyday, then every other day or so. Also I’ve kinda fallen in love with this rp, you’ve done a fantastic job.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED SKELETON: Amarus CHARACTER NAME: Kit Alexander AGE & GENDER: 25, cismale, he/him FACECLAIM: Avan Jogia, Matthew Daddario, Ezra Miller

BIOGRAPHY:

Fortune favored the bold. Your father might have been bold once- must have been to have endeared himself to a deathless goddess who walked the world with wind in her hair, dispensing luck with a brush of her fingers and a heady smile. But you knew him in the aftermath of that intoxication. Luck left your father, but he’d already fallen headfirst into her thrall. Your earliest memories are of sitting at your father’s feet, halfway under the table, tiny fists clenched around a toy car as men who seemed larger than life roared at a television across the room, money changing hands. The plum colored carpeting of your living room caught the wheels of your car, but the tile of the place where your father leaned over the counter and wrote checks in his tightly looping script was better, even though you were told off when the toy’s tiny plastic wheels left marks on the walls. Your father would strap you into the car, pressing a kiss on the top of your head and whispering that you were his lucky charm.

School was when you first discovered other children. Before then it had been you and your father, the men who came to the little home you shared to yell as if the horses, or dogs, or baseball players who flickered on the tv could hear, and grumble as bills were passed across the table, the men who looked over their counters to smile down at you, asking you questions as you slipped to safety behind your father’s legs. You didn’t know how other kids worked, didn’t know the right things to say or do. It didn’t help that your father’s luck, a fickle, nebulous thing, swung your lives between poverty and excess with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Children weren’t kind to silent little boys who came to school in threadbare clothes but with the newest gameboy tucked in their bags, more inclined to speak in whispers to adults than learn the latest skipping game than dominated the playground. Teachers were at a loss as to what to do with little boys who seemed to take innately to math- reeling off probability as if was second nature- but hardly spoke to anyone.

In a life dictated by your father’s fortune, the infectious joy of his successes buoyed you between the dark periods when a gamble didn’t go his way. Being someone’s lucky charm only earns you praise until their luck fails. Betting evolved from a hobby, a diversion, to an occupation by the time you were old enough to compare your life to those of your classmates and find it lacking. Maybe that was why your father’s fortune took a sharp turn for the worse when you were eight, and watching mothers pick up their children as you sat in front of school, heart leaping every time you thought you saw your father’s car. A string of losses led to the loss of the house with the plum carpet, the loss of the comforting weight of your father’s hand on your head, the whispered assertion that you were his joy, his happiness, his lucky charm.

But fortune hadn’t forsaken all those around you. A girl who shared her snack with you did a perfect cartwheel at recess. The cat who lived in the apartment next to the one you and you father had eventually left the back of the car for narrowly avoided the wheels of a speeding truck as it sauntered off, leaving you wide-eyed from where you had been crouched in the gutter, petting it. While you sat, swinging your legs, at the kitchen table of the old lady who lived downstairs and tutted until you agreed to come in for a slice of cake, she found her wedding ring down the back of a chair. It had been lost for years. She’d cried, pulled you into a hug, called you lucky. You’d smiled, shoveled the rest of the cake into your mouth, turned tail and ran.

When you were fourteen, limbs made to look even ganglier by clothing that was inevitably too short, you decided that the universe demanded balance and you were its scapegoat. A turn of good luck for those around you was more often than not your misfortune. Even when you saw the first monster, your voice breaking around a scream at the eyes and the teeth and the smile, sprinting down the road, weaving around obstacles, you pushed against a man, who stumbled away and out of the path of a bucket of paint falling from a window a level above the sidewalk. He was saved a nasty concussion, at the very least, but you were slowed by the collision. Within the block the thing had you in it’s claws, fingers boring punctures into your arm, bruises blooming almost immediately. You’d wiggled free, loosing your jacket as you kicked and writhed, and when you fell hard back to the ground it might have been luck that put a brick within arm’s reach. Might have been luck that saw the brick’s arching trajectory straight into the creature’s yellow eye. But it just as easily could’ve been coincidence, and the good aim that had you picked early in P.E. despite your reputation as a pariah. You didn’t put much stock in luck, anyway.

Your father noticed the loss of the jacket more than the blood that stained your sleeve, and the bruises that steadily turned purple, then green, then yellow. You grew even warier than you had been, keeping your back to walls and keeping to yourself. It didn’t help. The next monster chased you for further than you had ever run, pushed you out into the edges of the city where you passed empty storefronts without really seeing them. By the time you stopped running, when you couldn’t have run any more, the monster was gone- where and since when you couldn’t have guessed. It was there, slumped against the wall of an abandoned strip mall full of shattered glass and trash trapped in dying weeds, that your mother came to you for the first time.

Fortuna smiled, and you were caught between laughing and crying, between confusion and anger, dark humor and utter exhaustion.

Going to Lupa was a better alternative than continuing to try your luck with your father, who had increasingly begun to pretend you didn’t exist. Camp Jupiter, where you weren’t chased by monsters and disappointment, was better than peeling linoleum and empty stares. The Romans welcomed you with open arms- a son of Fortuna was a good sign, a good addition to any legion, a source from which to take good favor as if it were nothing. When war came knocking, and the demigods stormed Mount Othrys like so many child soldiers, you were there. You’d thrown yourself into training, trying to dig out a place for yourself by your own merit, but you’d never be as gifted with a sword as a child of Mars, as tactically minded as one of Minerva. When you were there at the defeat of Krios, watching people you’d known for years be wounded, die, you were there as a lucky charm.

Your mother was beloved, feasts were held for her, and yet when you looked at the tattoo that held her symbol it was with a resentment that was unshakable. As the lines under your tattoo signifying your years in the legion multiplied, you surrounded them with art snaking up and down your arms that had nothing to do with your mother or the other gods and goddesses whose children were nothing but pawns in a greater game. You smothered the implication of your loyalty with flowers and vines, animals and symbols. But you didn’t bother to smother your cynicism. And all people saw was the outstretched, kind hand of luck regardless.

FATAL FLAW/DEFINING CHARACTERISTIC:

Amarus- bitter

Kit has never been shy about his distrust of the gods. As far as he’s concerned, the entire pantheon is full of dysfunctional and manipulative egotists, and the Romans are tragically deluded in their devotion. Even before he discovered the truth of his parentage and all that that meant, he was already skeptical of luck- the thing that just so happened to be his birthright, and utterly inescapable. That his childhood was so consumed by the fickleness of fortune made him bitter from the start- when he arrived at Camp Jupiter as a long-legged fourteen year old it was with tired eyes and a prematurely jaded attitude.

His bitterness made him ambivalent for years, but since he’s gotten older it’s morphed into something harder. To let himself be buffeted around by the whims of his mother and the rest of the gods and goddesses is to let them win. Kit is no optimist, but he’s fighting for something better regardless of the fact that losing seems inevitable. He’s driven by resentment, and it could very easily be his downfall.

Entwined as his future is with the gods and goddesses as well as his fellow demigods, it’s only a matter of time that his derision of the divine sparks with someone’s quick temper. His distrust is so invasive that he’s wary of any help the gods try to extend to anyone, regardless of the situation. In terms of character growth and development, this could definitely change, but his reasons for accepting the call to arms in this quest are decidedly not born of any loyalty to his mother.

EXTRAS:

cultivated contention: I’d like to explore Kit’s interactions with the Greek demigods relating to the feud and separation that the gods created between the two groups. For him, it’s just another in a string of manipulations and lies coming from the careless pantheon, it’ll be interesting to see how he responds to this once his knee-jerk reaction to be friendly with the Greeks just to spite the gods wanes.

fundamental differences: In a world so concentrated in the godly, Kit defines himself through his distrust of the gods. I’d like to see him befriending someone who’s on this quest for all the right reasons despite this completely different worldview.

in the end, all there is is luck: Exploring Kit’s response to any sort of intervention or aid from his mother would be very interesting. Depending on the situation it could be philosophy-shifting.

#accepted

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