#this is from the first minute of his inta live

[haob1n]

#zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1net #ricky #hazelbagel #ninitag #jjanguri #useryeontan #userhops #useriaya #.daintydevi #kirberries #userdaniz #maria.gif #this is from the first minute of his inta live #i only made it through 1 minute 💀 #c:ricky

[seasinkarnadine]

@redswan12

Undead tissue doesn’t heal the same way living skin does. The body’s natural responses are stymied, so without magic it takes an absolute age for injuries to recover. On the other hand, one can continue moving whence the living might be debilitated with pain. It’s been a long time since Laudna felt the pain of being alive. Her left leg drags awkwardly behind her as she stumbles through the inn’s front door.

“Excuse me–terribly sorry,” she murmurs as she maneuvers through the busy crowd. “Oops–! Let me clean that for you.” She prestidigitates the woman’s dress in apology. “You look ravishing in that, by the way.”

It’s a relief to finally reach the stairs. 

Between the railing and her good leg she manages an awkward hop-skip-drag up, one step at a time. There’s a long look from a dragonborn who passes her on his way down, but nobody halts her progress. Thank goodness. 

Her hands are shaking so it takes a few tries before she gets the key into the lock. It’s empty. The others must still be gathering their supplies. That’s probably for the best.

It takes a few minutes of digging through her supplies but she comes up with a spool of red thread. There’s black in there somewhere, but she likes how the red looks against her skin. Almost like she has actual blood. 

“Oi! Put me onna table, all this swingin’ about’s gon’ make me sick!” Ah. Oops. 

“Sorry, Pâté.” She unhooks him from her belt and settles him against her pack.

“They gotcha pretty good huh?” He tilts his head to get a better look at her.

“Oh, damn. Am I quite a mess?”

“‘Fraid so.” She doesn’t have any mirrors so it’s difficult to do a proper assessment. Imogen probably has one… no, it would be rude to go digging through her things.

"I suppose we will have to do what we can." 

"Ye, get the one on yer hip, yer leakin' all o'er the floor!"

"Dear. So I am." It's not difficult to hike up her skirt; the villagers slashed right through it with their scythes. Seems like they cut through tendons, too. Otherwise her hip dislocated when she fell. She'll have a poke at it later.

"Little to the right and they'd have got your lady bits," Pâté notes.

"How gruesome that would've been," Laudna chuckles. Her shaky hands steady some as she weaves the needle through her skin. 

"I betcha it would look like ground meat. Is Imogen inta that?"

"Pâté," she scolds gently.

"Right, sorry." 

She finishes stitching her hip back together, and then moves on to her wrists. She used them to cover her head so they unfortunately took quite the beating.

The door slams open, causing Laudna to startle about 6 feet in the air.

“Assholes,” Imogen spits, unbuckling her harness and tossing it onto the bed. “Laudna?” She turns, but her eyes don’t land quite right. “Why you sittin’ here in the dark?”

“Oh! Seems I rather lost track of time.” She gently folds her skirt over her hip. When had the sun set? “Darling, what happened?” Now that she’s paying attention, Laudna can feel the agitated hum of Imogen’s mind hovering at the edge of her consciousness 

“Small-minded country folk is what happened.” Imogen busies herself with lighting the lamps in their room. “It took me fuckin’ three hours to find a shop that even carried the griffon feathers and when I did the shopkeep took one look at my arms an’ hair and pretended he didn’ even see me! Every time someone new’d show up he’d talk to them before me! And-and then! When I finally did get his attention, he said he didn’t have the feathers, like they weren’t just sittin’ out on the front of the table for everyone to see!”

“What if I went back with you? I’m sure the two of us together could find a way to…persuade him to part with the goods.”

“No, thank you,” Imogen sighs. “I got the feathers in the end–Laudna!” Imogen’s eyes go wide as she turns to look at Laudna for the first time since entering the room.

“What happened?!” 

“What? Where?” Her form of dread prickles at her skin as she searches for the cause of Imogen’s alarm.

“Sweetheart, no. Your face…” 

“Oh.” Her magic settles down. “Is it bad?” The grim set to Imogen’s jaw is at odds with the tender way she cups Laudna’s cheek. 

“Who did this to you.” Something flutters up Laudna’s spine at the dangerous husk in Imogen’s voice.

“I-I took a tumble down some stairs–”

“How’d you fall down stairs?”

“I was in a hurry–”

“Why were you in a hurry?”

“Some of the townsfolk mistook me for a ghoul.” Imogen’s mind stops buzzing and picks up a tapping rhythm instead. She’s asking to be let in. Laudna does not deny her. laudna could never deny her.

I’m gonna fucken’ killem–

No, no, it’s alright. They pushed me into a river–

They pushed you into a river–!

–and I’m pretty sure they think they killed me. They won’t come after me. It’s alright.

Alright?! You coulda drowned!

Darling, I don’t need to breathe. Past the first bend the river was quite calm, really. It was easy to swim out. I dried myself and sneaked back here.

Imogen stands back, her hands balled into fists. Laudna doesn’t need the mental connection to know that fury is blazing bright and hot.

“I’m gonna burn this place to the fucken’ ground.”

“Dear you know I fully support whatever you want to do, but can’t we take a rest, first? I’m exhausted.” She’s beautiful when she’s angry (she’s beautiful all the time), but the townsfolk don’t deserve Imogen’s wrath. They saw Laudna and they were scared. They wanted to protect what they loved.  She can’t fault them for that. After all, if Imogen were in danger, Laudna would do whatever was necessary.

You are far too generous to the world, Imogen sighs. Her body relaxes, her fists unfurling. And far too sweet to me. She sits down on the bed.

“Hand me the jar with the–what’s it called, arcina.” They spend the rest of the evening tending to Laudna’s injuries together. As a team.

#imodna #redswan12 #my writing #cr3 #original content #prompt fill #“who did this to you?” #no beta we die like men #better late than never?

[jerrylevitch]

Who's Lonnie Brown? and what was her relation with Jerry?

She's the one that was one of Jerry's closest friends when he was a teen, and was the daughter of Charles and Lillian Brown at Brown's Hotel where Jerry got his start. Jerry’s dad was working at the hotel, in the winter of 1938/39. This story takes place on a February morning in 1939 after he watched Lonnie singing to old records.

"Their daughter Lonnie-though only fourteen years old, she was mature, perceptive; someone you could easily relate to, knowing she’d keep your deepest secrets and listen to your problems, big or small, without losing sight of them. Soon she became a real sister-so to speak- as well as my closest friend.

'Sure, I told you-really, you sing good. Almost like Edyth Wright. Except, well…” She nodded silently, her face beginning to blush. At last, “I’m not that good, am I?” she asked in a strained little voice. “Lonnie, what I mean”- and this I said gripping her hand- “why sing almost like her when you can be her!"  "Me? Don’t be silly.” She seemed dumbfounded, but at the same time intrigued with my answer. And gleefully I kept building the fantasy, as though I had lived it a hundred years. “It’s simple as pie, Lonnie. You could do Edyth Wright and Hellen O’ Connel and, uh…Betty Hutton, Kitty Kallen, Jo Stafford-I tell you, there’s no end to it! The trick is to make believe you’re singing-see?” “How?” “How? Jeez, lemme show you!” Soon I had her perched on the chair watching me with perfect gravity as I began playing the same record; meanwhile clutching the teddy bear to my heart, completely preoccupied, the bit wholly imagined and feeling totally alone in the pleasure of my own making- Just to see myself spinning crazily away from the victrola the moment that TD’s solo leads into the vocal spot, then silently mouthing the first note exactly in time- YOU’RE Pear-shaped it was, or absurd but anyway- A SWEETHEART, IF THERE EVER WAS ONE, IF THERE EVER WAS ONE IT’S YOU… While staring pop-eyed at the teddy bear, then jumping out of the trance with a happy gleam to fling it up at the ceiling…Now on my knees, I mouth a lament over little Teddy, whose lying there on the floor- LIFE WITH YOU WAS AN INCOMPLETE DREAM, YOU ARE EVERY SWEET DREAM COME TRUE… And at the finish Lonnie’s off her chair in a screaming fit.

Later on Red Buttons was set to perform but was running late…

And five minutes later, in an amazing rush off Dad’s frantic call for a novelty interlude, Lonnie and I had the old Victrola out, and before you knew it we were working on the bill. She did the Edyth Wright number. Then it was my turn to strut and shake a la Jimmy Durante. (Just a minute! Everybody wants to git inta de act!) Finally we cut loose with the famed Jeannette MacDonald-Nelson Eddy “Indian Love Call” finishing to cheers. Yep, Red Buttons had arrived! We played maybe half a dozen shows that winter. It wasn’t enough, so I’d step right into the grinder and badger my fathers agent, Harry Cuttler, trying to raise his interest so he could get us booked at any one of the many small hotels in town. But he’d merely blink those dark melancholy eyes of his and say, “Not now, there’s plenty of time later,” and I finally told Lonnie, “Maybe we shouldn’t rehearse. What for?” And she said, “Guess you’re right. Who wants to bother with a couple of kids?” It brings a laugh when I think of it now; yet it’s kinda sad, too, if you’ve ever dreamed. "

#Lonnie Brown #anonymous #Jerry Lewis

[notmuchtoconceal]

( o ) goodimpressionofmyself

bro was a design a nature

one a evolution's flukes that'd change the course a the human species for the better. tho his name has been lost to us in the time since the second centennial of his coming, our sources place his ascent sometime in the year 2 AOR, before the advent of the pendulum calendar.

as we hear in the eternally buffering mass, the biochemical onset a puberty introduced into his seed a potent neurotoxin which’d constrict the blood vessels around the brain, leading to high functional autophagy and a sense a prolonged adrenal-hormonal euphoria

it spread through his circle a straight buds at first --brojobs, JO seshes, not gay threeways. the saline properties a vaginal mucus (in which his bitches were always drenched) rendered the toxin inert, so no matter how much pussy he plowed it never crossed over to the fairer sex and his t-girl worship seshes were doomed to wash out with the rattle of a bottle in the moonlamp of estrus. dudes already indiscriminate with their wanton appetites got hit hard, so as the chinese places collapsed, the priapism would a become fatal if they didn't nut every couple hours. the tumescence aching in the fiber a their bones -- eight inches a wood leaded inta ballershorts frothing champagnebottle down their legs

all up and down the ancient east coast, festivals, frat houses, lax circles, the ivied plendor fell to ruin as administrators looked the other way and quietly lamented the insidious influence of administrators. men of sound mind cited phytoestrogens and assorted toxicities in the water supply. crystal healing wine moms knew it was the GMOs, the same ones making all their sons and daughters into horrible amphibious transsexuals. a yiddishman of some renown, rumored to posses unearthly powers of the word, was silently invoked to wallpaper over petty bitchiness, and then the waiter finally came, thank god. the boy’s father can deal with it, certainly. he never lifts a finger

appointments were cancelled. beatings were booked. stern talks were had with severe, business suit clad dads before, in cruel reversals of fate, of which not even homer himself could do justice, they were bent over and fucked without lube, raw dogged in pools a piss and sweat blooms of bloody nut shred between father and son -- mutagenic shadows cast on walls so you couldn't see any a the good shit. gyms across the country saw sharp spikes in fit, newly out daddies who lifted hard in pink thongs, leaving oldschool macho gay men queasy with that fag shit

took over a month before it penetrated into the gay community at large, thanks to the initial outbreak being slowed by its confinement to vacancy and privilege. when fire at last took to the streets, everything decent god fearing americans feared about city life ruptured like a blister on a QB's rank gameday sole. the raunchiest excesses of your father's worst nightmare of a pride parade evoked through LA riot imagery, baby ya could almost hear the congo drums

soft-spoken boys lisping to stevie nicks swelled up into macho tumescent tumors and chuckled like dumbfucks. more leather than a book a elevation’s worth of beef cattle wriggled on an ocean a maggots. dicks were skewered, barbed, wired, shocked and chopped. the neurotoxin, now an airborne contaminant from all the fuck moisture, spread through trenched roid veins, and pillars a torture instruments and rainbow jocks rose to the armpit colored skies. so much interracial gay fucking occurred on live television, a proud rebel and a gentleman, a landowner and brother of the klan, died of a brain aneurysm before he had time to blow his brains out

a state of emergency was finally declared

the mayo clinic -- now 70% female, thanks to unrelated advances in propagandizing -- captured a dull chuckling brah by sticking a bottle a muscle milk under a box propped up on a stick attached to a string

they tried to get him to recite his own name, for the record, and after twenty minutes of listening to him huh? and uhhh? and paw at his dick through his jock, they collected a blood sample by sounding him with a micro-needle pipecleaner syringe

on the genome sequence monitor, the female scientists, all dressed in the height of fashion as large breasted, leather corset-clad porn librarians -- the archetypal state of womanhood freed from the male gaze -- were, thanks to a molecular bio-luminescence associated with necrosis of the effected nucleotides, able to locate genes associated with the following:

propensity for wearing ball caps as shading behavior

ventilatory adaptations such as cutting the sleeves off t-shirts

tolerance for EDM as pack hunter polyrhythms

the shocking link between gym exhibitionism and prostate stimulation!

the alpha female scientist, her feathered bun the most bouffant, her labcoat the most chic and the shiniest, removed her glasses, and exposed her radiantly pancaked cheekbones

ladies

gentleman

silent siblings of the neuter gender

we have located

the basic bro genome

toward the sun, her betas clucked their fingers against their foreheads and imitated trumpets with the rapture of new discovery

as a result of these findings, the women were able to devise anti-bro hormonal sedative weapons. they agitated estrogen molecules into arcs of light, and the stinger of their labias crested out in desert incandescence. when the sun came upon the sand, there was no blood, only scorched earth and smoke

most of the bros were rounded up in these mines and factories, left to toil in the bowels of the vast multi-tiered metropoli erected by the patenting parents to fence the women off from the battering world. the ones that weren’t were placed in bro pads where they could be pacified with electro-diodes and fed peanuts

whenever possible, direct oversight of the horny bros was performed by dudes who carried the strain, but saw little to no hormonal hostilities. they were chill, fun to wedgie, pretty cool as long as they didn’t talk too much. the bros would slobber and nuzzle their handler’s crotches whenever they were brought their daily soy blend, which showed no efficacy in lowering t. to ensure total stability, what with quarterly reports always looming so large, hormones were administered into the administrator's daily supplement trays, and many compliments were given on their skin quality and EQ readouts

at this point the wine moms, wary of having to stand their ground any longer, less they put a rut in the carpet, decided that since the bro phenotype was natural, this was fine. it was fine.

if god wanted them to be geniuses, He wouldn’t have given them balls. i suppose god really must be closer to a woman, i mean does He have balls? no, of course not. He simply needs to think it, and it happens. why, that’s really much more how it is with a woman. really, do we still need to be talking about this?

at last the wine moms would listen because all those annoying white bitches who tried to sell them makeup were going into the sciences and selling makeup to the porn librarians, and now with the men out of the way, they would build a compassionate world where everyone looked and felt good, and there wasn’t any soul-crushing ennui as a result of being doped into submission and atomized into a bipolar role as farmer and consumer of digital micro-product. for in our enlightened moneyless state, we are simply data, and data is patterns. soon we shall perceive the unperceivable, achieve the unachievable. we shall see the shape of nature, the pattern which underlies all patterns, down in our spiraling digital abyss. come with us deeper and deeper down. there is no going back. there is no going back. you can only tunnel further and further down. i promise you, i promise you, strip yourself of everything you think you are, and go back down into the meat flaps, the muddy folds, the white noise lacerating your brain like broken glass, you can dig and dig and dig and one day climb back towards the light

climb back towards the light bro

climb back towards the light

#backwards cap bro #good meathead #big dumbass vibes #no homo bro #all the homo #feels good brah #ripe fuckin jock pits #rank fuckin jock feet #ecological catastrophe #white women problems

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Severed (Ch2)

Read on AO3

Jamie was sat, feeling maudlin and staring into the depths of his pint after a particularly difficult day. If Jenny had been beside him, she’d tell him to wise up and be grateful for the situation he was in. But he still wasn’t used to being so far from home, away from his parents and Lallybroch. He wouldn’t let himself say it out loud but he even found himself missing the tinny aftertaste of a pint of Tennents that he had yet to find on sale south of the border.

He knew his parents were over the moon about his acceptance into Oxford, how could they not be? Jamie had walked around Broch Mordha with his mother and father a few days after he’d received the happy news and found that the standard twenty minute scoot around the shop was considerably stretched out to allow his parents to stop and boast to every person they could about their youngest son’s achievement. Jamie had smiled sheepishly and thanked people for their well wishes but if he was being entirely honest, there was a knot in the pit of his stomach every time someone mentioned him leaving home.

Jamie tried not to let his nerves get the better of him as he settled into his new home those first few days. It wasn’t just that he stuck out like a sore thumb as the 6’ 4 red headed Scot that was almost as broad as he was tall. It was the fact that the people seemed to be looking at him funny. He made the mistake of asking someone for directions and ended up on the receiving end of a joke about his accent, the man making a mean comment about Jamie being asked to join Oxford University as some attempt to reach whatever entry quota of undergraduates hailing from underprivileged backgrounds. It didn’t matter that he was there on the merit of his exam results that he had worked his arse off for, the same as everybody else. Jamie Fraser was a working class lad from the Highlands, not some self-entitled Etonian arsehole whose father knew somebody who knew somebody. He was surrounded by future Lords and Dukes and he knew that if he heard the words ‘titan of business’ again, he was going to have to start cracking some overprivileged skulls.

And so he sat in The College Bar on a Friday night, hidden away in the corner upstairs where he could sit in peace and brood over his very fortunate situation that he didn’t feel so fortunate about. The only thing that he made the whole thing worthwhile was the girl who lived a few doors down from him in Merton College.

The first time he saw Claire Beauchamp she was fighting a losing battle with a cardboard box that looked like it had already taken a few bashings. Jamie had moved into his dorm a few days prior and was out that morning in an attempt to scout a route for his morning runs. He was keeping a close eye on his AppleWatch, making sure that his heart rate was staying in the optimal zone when he encountered one of the more colourful expletives he’d had the pleasure of hearing before.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!”

His head swivelled on his neck and his eyes landed on her.

Her long arms were wrapped around the box, trying to keep it steady on a propped up knee while the glaring at the taxi driver who was stood fiddling with his phone rather than helping the poor lass. Irritated at the absence of chivalrous manners, Jamie jogged towards the car to offer help.

“Are ye managin’? Here, let me,” he moved to her side and grabbed the next box, lifting it without thought and immediately straining as gravity worked quickly against him. “Christ, lass, what have ye got in here? Rocks?”

“That one contains books, laddie,” she spat back in frustration at him, trying her hand at matching the Scottish brogue and failing miserably. Jamie found it utterly adorable and couldn’t help but smile as he placed the box on the pavement and unloaded the next one which was thankfully much lighter. After wrangling her suitcase from the boot of the car, he tried not to watch the delicate movement of her limbs as she paid the fare.

Trying to pretend that he hadn’t been avidly watching her, he faked a jump of surprise as she thrust her hand towards him, “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.”

He liked her instantly. He found himself thinking, who the hell introduces themselves with their full name anymore? What an interesting wee thing she was.

“James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser,” he returned the gesture, shaking her small hand in his large one, damning the tough skin of his calluses for keeping him from feeling the exact texture of the soft skin of her palm.

“That’s too many names.”

“What?” The question burst out of him in an exasperated laugh. “No, it’s no’. ’Tis the number of names my parents gave me and if ye want tae live a good long life, Sassenach, ye winna get intae the bad books of my wee ma.”

“What’s a… sassanatch?” Her head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“Sassenach,” he corrected her pronunciation with a wry smirk. He knew that if he tried to give her anything but the truth, she would see through him in an instant so he decided to answer honestly. “It means ‘outlander’.”

She snorted at him and rolled her leopard eyes into the back of her skull.

“Sorry to break it to you, Toto, but I have a feeling we’re not in Scotland anymore.”

“Now that I am painfully aware of,” he sighed, sending a cursory glance around the quad that they were standing in and almost willing it to magically transfigure itself into the hills of his home.

“Not enjoying it so far?”

“Jus’ takin’ me a while tae get used tae it, naebody spiks tae ye here. Said hullo to the man in the shops and he looked at me like I’d twa heids.”

He was putting it on a bit, thickening his accent to amuse her but he was delighted to see that it was working. She laughed, looking at her feet and then sighing at the boxes that he had stacked into a neat pile on the pavement. She looked wistfully at them and cast a sideways glance at the man in front of her, an idea forming in her mind.

“Rather large, aren’t you, Fraser?”

He grinned wolfishly at her, “That I am.”

“What if I make you a promise to say hello to you every time I see you? In exchange for a small favour?”

“And what would that be?”

“Help me to my room with my things?” She sent him a dazzling smile to try and convince him but he had already resigned to himself that his morning workout had changed from cardio into upper body strength training.

“Wisnae going tae let ye carry these yerself, I’m no’ that cruel,” he smirked as she triumphantly pulled out her phone, bringing the information of her dorm up on her screen.

“You’re a saint. I’m staying in Merton, you wouldn’t happen to know where that is?”

He tried not to look too enthusiastic as he felt the universe click things into place, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

And that day was the first day of their story together. With Claire holding open doors, Jamie managed to get her boxes to her dorm in three trips and they bantered the entire time, her quick wit shining from her and almost doubling him over with laughter at one point. Without really making an effort to do so, they seemed to find themselves in each other’s orbit more often than not, walking to lectures together despite chasing completely different degrees and finding that they enjoyed the same very specific spot in the library that offered the most sunlight with the least amount of noise. He surprised her the first time he appeared with the correct number of sugar packets for her to dump into her coffee and he beamed when she peeled the gherkins from her burger and dropped them onto his plate, knowing that he would eat them for her. They came to know each other, slowly showing the parts of themselves that not many people were allowed to see. She banged on his door in the late afternoon after a particularly bad seminar and his hand found the perfect purchase against her shoulder as she laid her head on his and cried, admitting to feeling overwhelmed and burnt out in such a competitive environment. In turn, he let her in on his feelings of inferiority which she quickly shot down, telling him that he was not only the smartest person she knew but the kindest and that was no small thing. Soon enough, they were practically inseparable, both having their own friends but somehow always ending up in each other’s company. Jamie began to relax into his life in Oxford, knowing that as long as he could do it with Claire, well, it might not be so bad.

“Nice to see you didn’t wait for me, Fraser,” she puffed as she sat herself down on the stool across from him at their usual table in the pub, unwinding her long scarf from around her neck as she greedily eyed the pint that was sat waiting for her. Claire took a long drink before setting it down again and sighing heavily as her fingers, stiff and bright red from the cold, attempted to undo the buttons of her coat.

“Ye call me and tell me tae meet ye in the pub in ten minutes and then ye show up half an hour after. What am I meant tae do, just sit and stare at the ‘hing?” Jamie muttered in response, not meeting her gaze as he picked at a piece of dried candle wax that had dripped and solidified on the table. He had been studying in his room when she had called, demanding that he meet her and even though he would rarely say no to her, it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t let her stew for a bit. Trying to hide a smirk, he pulled his eyes up to see her face, immediately regretting his teasing. “Sassenach? What’s worst wi’ ye?”

“It’s nothing, it’s-“ she finally managed to pull her arm free of her coat only to thrust it deeply into her pocket, retrieving her phone and staring at it with a furrowed brow. “Bloody bastard, he hasn’t even text me.”

His ears pricked up at the mention of a ‘he’ but Jamie kept his mouth shut, raising his pint glass to his lips to stop himself from blurting out all the questions that were brewing behind them.

“Why are all men total pricks, Jamie?” She took a deep drink from her own glass, her eyelids drooping slightly at the relief the cold liquid brought her before she wiped her lips with the back of her hand which she then waved in his general direction. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Och, I dinna ken, ye’ve called me worse things in our time thegither.”

That earned him a laugh and he watched as her shoulders relaxed slightly, her slight frame melting back into her chair.

“Bad date, was it?”

Claire snorted, the sudden expel of air causing one of her curls to dance around her face, “I don’t suppose it counts as a bad one if the guy doesn’t even show up.”

“He pied ye?” Jamie’s skin felt hot as anger licked at his insides. Her face scrunched up in confusion, as it did sometimes if he used a colloquialism from home that hadn’t quite found its way across the border.

“What?” she asked before deciding that it didn’t matter, carrying on in her irritation. “He didn’t show! No call, no text, nothing.”

“Good riddance then. Where did you find this one?” He asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Part of being her friend was watching from the sidelines as men, and some women, fell at Claire’s feet. Not for the first time, Jamie found himself ruminating on the fact that her name in Gaelic, Sorcha, meant light. She drew people in and without meaning to, they soon found themselves to be in her orbit.

“We quite literally bumped into each other in the library. He’s reading History.”

“And what would a history man be doing in amongst yer medical textbooks, Sassenach? Sounds like a bit of a creep to me. Or mebbe he was lookin’ up some horrible rash he’s got on his-”

“Same again?” She interrupted after downing more than half of her pint in an attempt to catch up.

She was already out of her seat before he had the opportunity to answer. He enjoyed, probably a little too much, watching the sway of her hips and the way her curls bounced as she bounded down the stairs towards the bar and he leant backwards, letting his head rest against the wall and sighing in frustration. She was going to spend the rest of the night sneaking glances at her phone, hoping that this new guy would try to get in touch with her and he would have to suffer in silence. He would tell her that she has nothing to worry about, that whoever this guy was would have to be a fool not to crawl over broken glass to get to her.

Because that’s what Jamie would do. If she ever asked him to.

After a second round and a third and a fourth, they came to be sat on the same side of the table, hidden away in the alcove that their table was situated in. They were both drunk although Jamie would never admit to it, saying that a Scot was never drunk as long as they could stand upright. Their shared laughter was getting louder and Claire’s gestures were getting bigger, sloppier, as the frustration began to pour from her.

“I mean, I’m reading medicine, for Christ’s sake! I have good prospects, I’m only minimally neurotic, I don’t think I’m that terrible to look at. So what’s my problem? Am I just destined to be alone for the rest of my life?” A massive hiccup ripped through her, followed by a laugh as she brought her hand to her chest as though the act would calm them. Jamie’s eyes fell to her hand, trying so hard not to let his eyes focus on the breasts beneath it. Realising that the drink had made his reflexes slower, he pulled his eyes to face forward, staring at the floor and worrying that he’d been caught.

“I dinna think so.”

Her index finger stabbed a little too hard at her phone, the screen lighting up and showing no notifications, “It’s not like there’s a line of men waiting patiently at my door.”

“Then they’re eejits.”

A whirlwind of curls twisted towards him, a slight smile that was playing on her lips admitting to her surprise. The words had left his mouth before he realised it and the moment he did, red creeped insidiously up from the collar of his shirt, seeping into his cheeks.

“Eejits, huh?”

He looked at her then, blue eyes fixing onto their honeyed counterparts, humour dancing across her face mixed in with the light that was cocooning them.

“Every man who doesnae fall at yer feet tae do yer bidding is an eejit,” he conceded.

“Are you including yourself in that list, Fraser?”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, not needing to lend even more credence to what they both already knew but were too afraid to speak out loud. That he was completely under her spell and happy to be there.

“I think ye’ll find ye had me cartin’ yer wee boxes tae yer room within minutes of meeting ye, Sassenach.”

Claire bit her lips between her teeth, trying her hardest not to smile, “Your mother raised you to be a gentleman.”

“That she did. Which means I buy the next round and then I’m walking ye home,” Jamie said.

“Not heading to see Annalise tonight?”

Rising to his feet, he fought back the urge to snap at her, irritated at the mention of the girlfriend that he hated being reminded of when he was with Claire and simply replied with, “Not tonight.”

Something playful and dangerous glinted in the amber eyes and she leaned forward on her elbows, as though she was stalking her prey.

“Then I shall delight in having you all to myself.”

By the time Jamie returned with their drinks, the moment of flirtation had passed. Claire was back frowning at her phone and tapping a single bitten fingernail against the wood grain of the table. Determined to distract her from falling down the rabbit hole of despair, their final drink was spent teasing, telling funny stories to each other about the idiotic things that had been said in their seminars, gloating about who got the best marks on their last essay. Before they knew it, Claire’s scarf was being wrapped around her neck once more as the two of them stumbled into the cold night air.

They had stayed a little later than last call, a classmate of Claire’s being the barman on staff and allowing them to finish their drinks while he wiped down the bar and cleaned the lines. It meant that they were alone as they walked, not amongst the mass exodus of warm bodies that had left the bar twenty minutes previous. Jamie watched from the corner of his eye as Claire furiously rubbed her hands together in an attempt to introduce some heat. With the alcohol loosening the usual restraint that he kept firmly in check, he turned to her and grabbed her small hands in his and brought them to his mouth, blowing the hot air from his lungs against her skin. Even through the drunken fog, he felt the flickers of electricity that seemed to pass every time their hands touched. It wasn’t unheard of for their hands to find their way to each other’s in those long study sessions when both of them were tired and stressed and in need of a comfort. A gesture that said ‘It’s okay, I’m here with you’. Things were always easier if they touched.

Slowly, he became aware that she was holding her breath, confirming it by sweeping his eyes from her hands to her face. She was staring at him, like a leopard stalking its prey. No smart remark or witty retort fell from her lips which were parted, allowing her breath to leave her in little bursts that betrayed how fast her heart was beating. The drink making him bold, he began to lace his fingers through hers, the only sound on the street being her sharp intake of breath as he pressed their palms together. Jamie became immediately more aware that their faces were closer than they ever had been before, that her body was pressed lightly against his and he suppressed a groan at how easy it would be to pull her closer and lose himself in her. His eyes caught her her tongue darting out to wet her lips and he wondered if she realised that she had done it. He couldn’t stop looking at her mouth, her pretty pink lips forming shapes that he wanted to know the taste of.

“Jamie…“ her breath was sweet against his mouth. It was an invitation but there was a hesitance there that he recognised and he knew that she was thinking the same thing he was. That if they did this, if they kissed, nothing would be the same again.

“Aye?”

“Can I…?”

An imperceptible nod of his head was all it took for her dart towards him but she stopped himself just shy of his lips. His mouth was hovering above hers, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face. Jamie held himself there, basking in the anticipation of a moment that he had dreamed of so many times. This wouldn’t be another first kiss to regret.

A small whimper escaped Claire’s lips as she softly pressed her mouth against his and it was all it took to undo him, his whole self filling with the need to taste her the moment that their lips met. Jamie raised a shaking hand to her face, to cup her cheek and kiss her slowly, deeply, wanting to drink in every part of her that he could.

He was kissing Claire Beauchamp. And it was everything.

#light across the seas that severed #clan donnachaidh #ao3 #outlander fanfic #jamie fraser #Claire beauchamp #outlander #modern au

[monsterfloofs]

BirdMonster? (Quincey)  x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

(I don’t have a species name yet for my lovely weirdo bird-ish shadow babies-- but I hope you enjoy the story!!)

You look down at your phone, chewing on your lip, reading and re-reading the text message that lay on its glassy screen.

“Hey! I heard you moved to the city, how have you been? =D I wanna hear all about it!”

You didn’t have the heart to respond this morning when you first saw the message. And you felt even less sure of yourself as you looked at it now. “It’s going okay,” You finally type out, you type a bit more, but then thinking better of it, you hastily start tapping your thumb on the 'x' to delete it.

You run head first into someone's back and you blink, backing away quickly, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” The shadowy figure turns around and his wide multicolored glowing eyes peer at you. A cigarette wiggles in his beak like maw. “Ey Nicky, look who it is! It’s tha hooman!” You wince and put your hands up nervously, as they lean forward curiously, their four hands resting on his waist and hips. “I’m really, really sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you--” “What have I told you about that!” You blink looking to the one beside him, they were short and chubby with a shorter beak that was slightly hooked on the end. Their hand flying up to swat at the taller figure. “Whatta keep tellin’ ya about them manners! You don’t say that! It’s rude!” “Ey! Ey! I’m sorreh! Jeeze Nicky!” The taller one complained in their high voice, “Why ya gotta slap at me! They were the one that ran inta me first!!” He jerks his thumb back at you before blinking and scratching his head with a hand, “Eh. . . they were right here. . . where’d they go?”

You had made a quick escape around the corner, breathing heavily before you looked down at your shoes and bit your lip. There weren’t that many humans around here, and you have been stared at enough by the residents to beat a hasty retreat when you were afraid of causing a scene. You shouldered your bag and continued down the path, your eyes peering around as you stuffed your phone into your pocket. It was a small city and many of the residents here, were these shadowy bird creatures. They had four arms and 4-6 eyes depending on their mood, covered in a very dark fluff that you weren’t able to discern if it was fur or feathers. With their luminous eyes and slick shadow like silhouettes, you stuck out like a sore thumb around them. At first you had been excited to live here, learn about them, but when you realized you were the one being stared at, you began to lose your social resolve. You stop walking, pausing in front of a walk sign and waiting for the light to turn as you shove your hands in your pockets. You had come here to make a new start, get away from your old town and the memories you had there, but with a new town came new problems. You hurry across the road, walking down the strip to turn into a little bookstore. 

You can see faint wisps of lilac smoke in the air and you give a little smile, you were able to make one friend so far, and you rather liked him. He sat at the front desk reading a book, his legs propped onto the countertop. His luminous eyes looking up. “Hey angel, how’s the city life treatin’ ya today?” You sigh and slump your bag onto the floor, “Horrible,” you mumble, “I ran into someone today Quincey, like actually. . . RAN into them. Way to go me. . .” “Ey, don’t say that.” Their cool voice replies from behind their book, “You were probably lost in your thoughts, and that's one of your best qualities.” You look at him, before giving a little smile. “You think so?” “I know so sweetheart. You’re a really deep thinker,” You stepping around the counter to put on an apron with the book store's logo stamped on it. “Has it been busy today?” Quincey chuckles, “Nope. ’S been dead all day.” You peeked at the stack of books sitting beside his crossed feet on the counter before you gave a little laugh, “I can see that. . . it looks like you’ve been reading your books more than selling them.” “Mmhm, if you want to, you can go home if you want.” You think back to the two others you ran into on the street and you shake your head, “No. . . I think I need to get out of there for a while.” “Feel free to hang around as long as you want, then. I could use th’ company.” 

You watch him read, his face buried in his book. You give a soft smile and nod appreciatively, you take a deep breath. “ Ah. . . Hey Quince, I was wondering, what are those things you smoke all the time?” Quincey looks up, “It’s a cigarette sweetheart. Don’tcha have them things back home?” You give him a look and smile, “Yeah. . . but they have rat poison in them and they smell awful, and they don’t give off purple smoke either.” Quincey’s eyes shift in number, as he blinks, taking the cigarette out of his jagged mouth and looking it over appalled, “Rat poison?” You giggle and rest your elbows on the table, “Yu~p! And they cause lung cancer and--” “Quincey waves his hands, “Urk, yeh, I’ve heard enough. I don’t wanna hear no more.” You giggle again as he hastily stamps it out. “Well, the ones back home do anyway, I don’t know what they make those kind with. It smells different. . . almost floral” You say thoughtfully, “I dunna sweets but I’m gonna look that up, I don’t wanna be killing myself with no rat poison,” You smile, collecting the stack of pre-read books into your arms and wandering further back into the shop to put them away. You scan the shelves, carefully sliding them back into their homes. 

You breath in the dry air with a smile, you were so thankful to work here, and thankful to find a friend. Quincey was kind, and understanding. When you first moved here, you had a moment of feeling distraught and panicky about the stress that was piling up in your life. You had started crying while you were working up front at the register and Quincey had been quick to send you to the backroom and tack over while you could sit in peace and cry it out. He had popped his head around the corner with a mug of tea. Sitting down to speak with you, his legs crossed as the two of you talked. You told him everything, why you left home, how hard everything had been and how desperate you had been to start anew. You spilled everything that had been warring inside your heart, going a mile a minute as your nerves had skyrocketed. But he listened through everything, nodding solemnly as he watched you with concern. You had felt guilty about that, just exploding your life worries on someone you just met, but Quincey had been someone you felt treasured to have now. He didn’t judge, he didn’t even really question. He didn’t ask for anything in return, and he didn’t try to make you feel like you had to act a certain way. You could just be. . . you. Having such a sturdy positive force in your life wasn’t something you were used to. You feel heat rise to your cheeks and you smile softly to yourself. 

You finished putting the books away, grabbing a broom to start sweeping the floors. Your mind slowly turns towards work and what needs to be done. Since it was slow today, you could focus on cleaning all the things you had been neglecting. Moving around the shelves and pulling out chairs so you could sweep underneath them. As you head up towards the front desk, you hear Quincey get up from his chair. Stretching his four arms as he bows backwards. “I see ya already grabbed my books, thanks for that.” “Oh,” you respond offhandedly, “No problem, I was already up,” “I was thinking about closin’’ up th’ shop earlier, it doesn’t look like anyone will be coming through.” You perk up cheerfully and beam. “What time were you thinking about closing?” Quincey eyes the clock on the wall, and squints. “Eh. . . Soon, I’m thinking, about an hour or so, no use wastin’ electricity if no one comes in.” You hum in response, keeping your head down as you sweep a pile of dust onto the dust pan. “And. . .” He began hesitantly, “I was wonderin’ if you would like to have dinner with me.”

You freeze, your head jerking up to look up at him. “Me?” You hug the broom shyly, Quincey rubs the back of his neck, his eyes winking closed, “Hey, if it makes you uncomfortable you don’t hafta--” You blink and look down, “I--” You stammer, you voice dropping to a whisper, “I’d really like that, actually. . .” You shuffle your feet, in embarrassment, you peek up at him, Quincey mirrors your shy posture, shifting from foot to foot as he rubs the back of his neck. You let out a soft giggle and take a deep breath. “I would love to. . . did you have a place in mind?” Quincey’s bright eyes dart in your direction before he gives a small jagged smile. “I know a few little hole in th’ wall places. One I’ll think you’ll really like, s’ nice an quiet. You nod, returning his smile, feeling your heart flutter. “That sounds great. . .” You stand their for a moment dumbly before you fluster and grin in embarrassment, picking up the dust pan and carting it and the broom into the back. When you are out of his line of sight you can finally let your heart to it’s erratic somersaults. Putting a hand over your heart and swallowing hard. A date. . . a dinner date, tonight, and you don’t have enough time to thoroughly panic because it’s going to be after work, which in an hour! You take a couple of deep breaths, easy, steady there! You busy yourself with scrubbing the tiny break room, your mind feeling like it was composed of marbles. Every thought you had rolling around and bumping into each other. There was no doubt you liked Quincey but oh gosh! 

It was like, now you knew, he knew, how you felt? Or was it, he knew, you knew how HE felt? You squish your face with your hands. Okay, you’re panicking, again, stop panicking-- just breath!! You let your eyes close tightly and you shake your head. You grab the bucket of soapy water and throw your sponge into it, hobbling out of the breakroom to start washing down whatever else you could find. You still had an hour to occupy your mind-- and in the meantime you needed to keep pep-rallying yourself! It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, it was just the things in life, made you feel like you had to be guarded. . . Or like you didn’t deserve it. You sigh, squeezing out the sponge and sitting on your knees to clean the dusty bottom of the book shelves. You keep yourself a buzzy bee, cleaning shelves and tables, until the very last minute. Your name is called and you lift your head, you can already feel your cheeks tingling with warmth. You wobble to your feet and give Quincey a shy smile. “Just let me dump the soapy water out! I’ll be right back.” You steal yourself into the break room, watching the water swirl down the drain, and turning to peer at yourself in the mirror. You give yourself an awkward but encouraging smile. Leaving the bucket and sponge on the counter as you join Quincey by the door. “I’m ready,” You say, feeling unsure, but when Quincey gives you his own crooked smile, your heart flutters. He holds the door open for you, and you step out together into the lamp light sidewalk.

It’s going to be okay, you tell yourself, hesitantly reaching for one of Quincey’s hands and holding it. He perks up and looks towards you, and you give an embarrassed smile and laugh in spite of yourself. 

#monster x human #monster x reader #exophilia #fluff #sfw

[lonely-paracosmos]

The feeling of pure bliss

prompt 2. voyage! for @digiweek

characters: Taichi Kamiya, Koushiro Izumi, Taimi Izumi (OC), Intanaru Izumi (OC)

warnings: none

words: 1,273

The Izumi residence goes on a vacation. Izzy is having a hard time finding peace without being bombarded by his husband and his two little kids. This fic is nothing but fluff and twists the "there is only one bed trope" into something cute!

((not beta read))

~~~~~~~~~~

It was just a small trip, not too far from home. just a cabin. in summer. with his husband and two kids. A five and two year old.

Koushiro felt anxious as he was driving along the dirt roads. Tai laid back in the chair looking at the map. "Take a left.. wait no right!" Taichi corrected himself. "Taichi.." The redhead warned sternly as the mistake caused him to swerve a bit. The toddlers laughed at the movement. "Ouch full name." The brunet replied.

He rolled his eyes, continuing to drive to the destination. It was sunset, the sun glistened beautifully, having an aura of peace, yet Koushiro couldn't focus on the peace, instead a soft thumping on his seat that was getting harder. "Taimi Izumi, this is the second time I told you to stop kicking the seat." His voice was stern and somehow still calm. "Sorry papa," Taimi replied.

Taimi had wild brown hair and black eyes. He was very smart and compassionate, but very energetic. Intanaru, his 2 year old sister, was smart as well as more calm. She was still finding out her own personality as she was so little. She has not spoken a word at all and is most likely on the spectrum, like her papa Izzy. Right now she tries to mimic everything her brother does which leads to sometimes very troubling situations.

Taimi looked out the window not realizing they just pulled right next to the cabin. It was petite and seemed rather cozy. "Bubba go help dad take things inside, I need to grab Inta." The digidestined of knowledge told his kid. He nodded obediently letting Tai unbuckle his seatbelt. He carries just a little bit, but enough to make him feel like he's helping.

"Daddy can we play a game?" The little kid asked his father. "Maybe when we get all comfy in here alright bubs?" Taichi told him. Taimi sighed, understanding and somewhat frustrated.

Koushiro came holding the two year old on his hip. 

The inside of the cabin was cute. It had a small living room area which shared the same room with the kitchen and had two more bedrooms- one bedroom with a king sized bed. "Tai I thought you said you booked the one with two bedrooms." he turned to his husband. The brunet rubbed the back of his neck "Oops.. Must have booked the wrong one. Sorry Iz" he responded uneasily. If Koushiro wasn't holding a toddler he would've slapped himself

-----

"Eh it won't be that bad. Taimi is basically glued to you Izzy." Taichi tells him while unpacking his stuff in the drawers. "I'm trying to stop that so he doesn't have separation anxiety. Did you even read the parenting books I gave you?" Koushiro snapped. "You bought like 10 parenting books and I'm gone a lot. It's only a few days babe. We'll get Taimi used to sleeping on his own after this. He hasn't gone to bed with us in a few weeks anyways." The brunet reassured his husband.

Koushiro knew Tai was right. He was constantly paranoid about being a bad parent. He knew there will be a time to fix things and every parent makes mistakes. He leaned forward to give his husband a kiss-

They were interrupted by the bedroom door flying open, Taimi and Intanaru were playing swords with sticks they had found outside. The older kid clearly going easy on the one younger than him. The little redhead didn't have the best balance and her grasp on the stick was a bit weak. "Papa, daddy!! Can we go outside?" The two adults looked at each other for a minute before nodding. Koushiro and Taichi got up slowly off the ground. "Keep close where we can see you." Tai finally told them.

Outside was a bit darker than it was when they had first arrived. The area was open, but surrounded by forests. Taichi and Koushiro sat next to each other watching their children play.

Intanaru pointed at something. Taimi's eyes widened. "A froggy! Inta you need to catch it!!" He tells her. She panics trying to jump to catch the frog missing it by so much. She quickly got up chasing it until the frog ran into the forest bog. The brunet fell laughing "let's be frogs!"

Izzy had to hold in his laughter as his kids were now on all fours jumping around like frogs. Every few seconds Taimi would loudly yell "Ribbit!" While Intanaru tried to copy the sound. Barely anything came out other than a squeak. 

"You know whenever someone talks she never looks directly at them." Tai said to him. Koushiro nodded he picked up on that too. Her eyes always seemed a bit glazed over and her coordination has never been the best at all. "Maybe we should check in with the pediatrician." he replies. Tai silently agreed.

They continued to watch the kids play frog.

-----

Bed time has never been easy for the Izumi's. Inta never wanted to go to bed, Izzy always had trouble sleeping, Taimi was glued to Izzy, and Tai was a bed hog.

Getting Taimi to brush his teeth was difficult enough, sleeping with everyone was a nightmare.

Taichi was on the right while Koushiro was on the left near to the door. Intanaru and Taimi were in between them with a pillow lodged between Inta and Tai. Tai was a hardcore cuddler and was always worried of crushing his daughter. The five year old brunet had his head on his papa's chest getting as close to Izzy as possible.

Taimi was a lot like Tai. He basically radiated heat causing Koushiro to sweat badly. He held him close anyways falling asleep.

---

"..apa….papa.. papa.."  Taimi was on his knees shaking the redhead awake. "Bubba.. what.." It had to be at least 3 am. "I has to pee…" Izzy groaned getting up helping the child off the bed. He held his hand as he walked down the small hallway to the restroom.

The light to the bathroom door was blinding. He sighed waiting for his son to finish his buisiness. The brunet hummed the tune of a song, possibling twinkle twinkle little start. He heard the flushing of the toilet. "Wash your hands." Koushiro told him. Taimi sighed very loudly turning the sink on washing his hands. 

"papi.." he said in a squeaky voice. "Yeah bubba?" Koushiro tried desperately to stay awake. "I left my teddy in the car.." He stiffined, shit. 

"Bubs.. you've been sleeping without it so far.. we can get it in the morning.." he tried to reassure him. "No! i need my teddy now!" he said a bit too loud. Izzy bit his lip. "Okay just this once, but we have to be quick." he said taking Taimi's hand using his other one to open the door. 

Outside was beautiful.. the fireflies roamed freely and the crickets and the toads sang. There was a light trickle of rain and the soft sound of the wind. He grabbed Taimi's teddy handing it to him shutting his car door. 

He didn't walk back to the cabin just yet. It was so beautiful out. He felt pure tranquility. Like he was riding on kabuterimon again. So far and so free.

"Papa.." Taimi said again. "hmm?" Koushiro kneeled down to him. The child kissed his fathers cheek. "Thank you.. I love you." he tells him. And even though he hasn't adventured in the digital world in years he knew. His adventure was far from over. That this was just a new journy.

He kissed Taimi's head. "I love you too,"

#quy qries #digimon #digiweek2021 #taichi kamiya #koushiro izumi #izzy izumi #taimi izumi #intanaru izumi #fanfic #digimon oc #taishiro

[amor-immortalem]

My Adoring Fan Chapter 8

chapter 7

Arella was busying herself with housework that needed to be done. From picking up scattered toys that their youngest hadn’t put away before his brother had taken him out for the day to finishing up laundry from the previous night- she needed something to do to distract herself from worrying too much about her husband. It was just one of his bad days where he couldn’t focus on things very well and the world just didn’t feel real to him. He had moved past the incident that brought their oldest child into their life but the effects of the trauma he endured still plagued him from time to time. It was rare for an episode to be this bad however. He hadn’t had one on this scale since their twins were four. He would get better in a few days; all he needed was rest.

As she turned to pull the clothes out of the dryer, she could hear her phone ringing. Reading the caller id, she sighed as she picked up.

“Azalea, you had better be ringing me for a nonsense reason and not because you’re in Lord Diavolo’s office and I need to come down to get you.” Arella said in a whisper. With the condition he was in today, the last thing she wanted was Mammon hearing her and getting himself worked up.

“Well... at least I’m not in the office this time... but I did get kicked outta homeroom.” The girl said. “Can ya come pick us up... please?”

“Who is ‘us’, darling?”

“Me, ’Relius, Max, and Zulima. We had a good reason this time, Mum, I promise.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Let me see if Dad needs anything and then I’ll be on my way.” After they said goodbye and hung up, Arella stared at her phone. “My stars, I wonder what happened for Aurelius, Max, and Zulima to get kicked out of class as well.” She went into the bedroom to check on her husband. “I have to go get the twins, Zulima, and Max from RAD. Do you need anything before I leave?” She asks as she rubs his shoulder.

Mammon only shakes his head as he looks at the clock. “It’s 8:30 in the morning. What the hell happened?” He starts to sit up but Arella just places a hand on his chest.

“Just stay in bed and rest, Dear. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I’ll handle it when I find out, okay?”

“Fine.” He lets out a sigh. “Let me know when you find out, please.”

“I will. I’ll see you in a bit. I love you.”

“Love ya too, Treasure. Drive safely.”

After that brief exchange, Arella grabbed the keys and left for RAD.

--------------------------------------------------

“So, I want you to tell me exactly what got the four of you kicked out.” Arella asks as she drives them back to their home. “And no lies, please.”

“Well,” Azalea started wondering where exactly she should start, “It all started when I came into class a half-hour late... apparently the old hag took exception ta that. She called me out on bein’ late ‘n I mouthed back ‘n next thing ya know she’s calling me a brat ‘n stupid ‘n forgetful ‘n a delinquent ‘n spoiled- which ta be fair, she’s not wrong ‘bout some of that stuff... but then she took it a step further by callin’ me a half-breed ‘n tryin’ ta take my cane claimin’ it was a weapon so I couldn’t have it on my person ‘cuz -ya know- all the fights ‘n shit I get inta.”

“And then when we tried to stand up for ‘Zay,” Zulima began, “She turned her sights on us.”

“She called us trash and abominations on top of calling us that stupid slur too.” Aurelius leans his head against the passenger side window.

“She said she’s going to write all four of us up saying it was her word against ours so it’s probably going to be wildly fabricated.” Max says as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I have most of the exchange recorded, if you want to listen to it Mrs. Morningstar.”

“I would love to hear it, Max, thank you.” Arella stopped the car, having arrived at home. “We’ll listen to it now.” Max pulled out her D.D.D. and played back the audio. About half way through, Arella’s jaw dropped in surprise. “And she speaks to the three of you this way on a regular basis?” The three half-demons nodded. “And what about you, Max?”

“This is the first time she’s ever said anything like this to me.” The human frowned.

“And it’ll be the last time too if I have anything to do with it. Azalea, is this why you were always late to your homeroom hour last term, honey?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m tired of bein’ berated ‘n called slurs and insults for an hour... I bet if she was the teacher in any of m’classes, I would have flunked them...”

“We all are,” Zulima says as she hugged herself tighter. “And whenever we try to defend ourselves or each other, she takes it out on us in the one other class we have with her. She almost failed me in world language claiming an airhead like me couldn’t have written such a high-level thesis in Latin of all languages, Auntie. I worked so hard with Uncle Satan on that thesis too! I felt so horrible.”

“And me in potions as well,” Max sighed. “And she gave me the wrong ingredients so I would be assured to fail.”

“I was this close,” Aurelius pinches his fingers together as he talks, “to flunking her Curses and Hexes course last term. I’m telling you, Mum, she’s an absolute witch of a demon. I think if Lord Diavolo hadn’t looked into it himself after I talked with Uncle Lucifer that I would have failed. Her excuse was that when it came to the end of term exam, mine was the last that she graded and she ‘accidentally’ used the wrong key.”

Arella had a look of realization on her face. “I know exactly who this teacher is. She absolutely hated me and your father. She was our curses and hexes teacher too.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “She never did anything too extreme because we shared a class with three of your uncles and if word ever got back to Uncle Lucifer, she knew there would be hell to pay.”

“So she takes it out on us because of you and Dad?” Aurelius looks over at his mother. “That’s pretty shitty.”

“Not to mention, she’s a racist and a xenophobe on top of it all,” Zulima growled in disgust. “How ugly.”

“Let’s go in now. Please be quiet when you walk in. Dad’s having one of his episodes and it's really bad this time so let him rest. I’ll make lunch in a bit.”

All of the kids nodded as they got out and headed into the house. Immediately Azalea pulled max around giving her a tour of the house while Zulima went up to Azalea’s room to make herself comfortable and wait for Aurelius to stop by his room to grab some spell books so the three of them could work on their magical studies together since there wasn’t really anything else to do.

--------------------------------------------------

As the house tour came to a close Max and Azalea climbed the stairs headed up to the second level where the bedrooms were located.

“You’re having a much better time with the stairs now; I’m starting to notice.” Max says quietly.

“Yeah, I still have trouble with the ones in my room though. With these, the steps are more closed off where the ones in my room have that opening between each step, ya know? With these types of stairs, I can jus’ slide my foot forward until it hits the base of the next step and that way, I can know how far my foot is out and whether it's safe ta step up without bein’ afraid I might slip.”

The human nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Makes sense.”

As they passed through the hall and by Azalea’s parents’ room, Mammon called out to her. “’Zalea come in here please. I wanna talk to ya ‘bout what happened at school.”

“Are ya sure? I know yer havin’ one of them bad days...”

“It’s fine. C’mere please.” Mammon says as he sits up on the bed and runs a hand through his hair.

Max hands Azalea her D.D.D. figuring Mammon might want to hear what was said before heading straight down the to her girlfriend’s room where the other two teens were waiting on them.

“Please tell me you didn’t get yourself and the others kicked out of class because of a fight.” The demon asks as his daughter climbs up next to him on the bed.

“I didn’t. Not this time. The teacher just had a stick up her ass ‘cuz I was late for homeroom... And then things escalated from there. Ta be fair, I kinda had some fault in it ‘cuz I got mouthy with ‘er but still she said somethings... And she then told me ta get outta her class... The others stood up for me ‘n that’s why they got kicked out too.”

“What kinda things?”

“It’s easier if I jus’ play the audio Max took of the exchange.” The half-demon unlocks the phone and plays the audio for her father. She watches him carefully just to see his reaction. It’s not any different from her mother’s except she can feel anger rising within him.

“I can’t believe she’s still workin’ for the school... If I’m rememberin’ her voice correctly, I know exactly who that is and she was decrepit when yer uncles and I were students there. There wasn’t nothin’ I could do right with ‘er. And this has been every day since ya entered this year?” Azalea only nods at his question. “I’m sorry ya gotta go through that, kiddo. We’ll take care of this for ya. Ya know none of that horrible stuff she said ‘bout y’all is true, right?”

“Yeah... but it still bites when people say it.” Azalea leans her head on Mammon’s chest, tucking herself up under his arm as he pulls her into a side hug. “Like all we’ve ever done is just exist and both demons and humans won’t even let us do that! There’s always somethin’ they got a problem with! It's unfair. We’re not demon enough to live here in the Devildom and not human enough to live in the human world. It’s like we don’t belong in either realm. Like we don’t get to be.... happy.”

Mammon would only hug his daughter tighter as he tucked her head under her chin. He wanted things to be different. It always broke his heart to hear his own children- even his nieces and nephews- talk like this. It all stemmed from the oldest generation of demons too- the ones that had existed even before he and his brothers had lost the war, fell from grace, and became demons. The ones that remembered what it was like long before Diavolo started pushing for peace between the three realms, long before the exchange program. Just like the humans they looked down upon, they were just as resistant to change, passing down their ideology to their offspring and so on and so forth as time went on. And the Devildom was doing just that- changing in many ways. From the exchange program that started over 20 years ago that was still going to this day to the advances in technology that put them on par with the human world... as much as the elderly demons might protest it, they couldn’t stop it. Once they all had kicked the bucket, the Avatar of Greed hoped things would get better. They had to.

And the youngest generation was proof of this- unpoisoned by their great grandparents’ and grandparents’ beliefs, Mammon could see how eager they were to accept the changes and the fact that half demons were becoming more frequent among the Devildom's elite- even if his kids themselves couldn’t see it themselves just yet.

As they sat in silence, the demon began purring- not in a way that showed contentment, but rather a deep rumbling purr that resonated through his chest that was often used when a demon was comforting themselves or their young when they were hurt or scared or ill or just upset in anyway shape or form. For his children, it often calmed them enough to put them to sleep for at least a few hours- more if they were sick and needed the rest. It always worked most for Azalea even back when she a baby, especially when she was this worked up and upset about something. He misses those days. The days when the twins and even Cyrus weren’t yet aware of things like racism or discrimination or hatred. Part of Mammon wishes all three of them could have just stayed that age forever.

As the half-demon was falling asleep, she tucked herself closer to her father mumbling a soft “Love you, Papa...” before she was out completely.

“Love ya too, my little Magpie.” He smiles softly before yawning and settling back down for a nap himself.

--------------------------------------------------

find more on my masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date? #obey me angst #obey me next gen #obey me mammon #obey me oc #om! mammon #arella #azalea #aurelius #zulima #max

[kurlyfrasier]

Terrified: Part 8

Raph x Reader

Synopsis: Raph saves you from ruffians one night in an alley after watching out for you for weeks without you knowing. Which leads you to getting to know the guys and becoming part of the family. But Raph keeps a distance and you don’t understand why. 

Word Count: 1763

Warnings: None, I don’t think...it’s definitely starting to look up though (:

A/N:  This goes back and forth between raph and reader pov just fyi

Three excruciating days after the transplant, Leo finally let me free. I had re-read most of my books, listened to all of my music on repeat more than I’d like to admit, and stared at the ceiling for countless hours. I was surprisingly relieved when he told me that he had to break our promise. At least I now knew Raph didn’t over-stress himself over the information. Plus, it was nice knowing there wasn’t much for him to break if he lost his temper during quarantine. I figured Mikey could hold his own against his weakened brother if it did come to blows. Thankfully, it did not. I heard he also took it rather well. Which simultaneously made me happy that he kept his cool and had me doubting what little effect I may have once had over him.

I could only hope he still cared about my welfare to get him to stay in the lair indefinitely.

Still, it was nice to leave my room. The first place I went was Raph’s room. Where I found there was no bed because they had carried him on his bed into the quarantine room. So he would be more comfortable when he woke. I hoped he appreciated his brothers’ thoughtfulness. I then peeked into the lab to find both Raph and Mikey snoring, disappointing me slightly. I would’ve liked to see how well he was doing for myself. With a sigh, I made my way toward the living room and plopped myself onto the giant bean bag and turned on the tv to enjoy my newfound freedom. A few minutes later, spaghetti was resting on my lap as if I had conjured it. I looked up to find Leo sitting on the couch, making it known that he wasn’t leaving until I had eaten at least a few bites.

He was really throwing off my groove with this whole ‘forcing me to eat thing’. How was I supposed to convince Raph to stay in the lair if I didn’t look sick? Plus, it was hard to eat anymore. Those weeks I went barely eating were affecting me more than I wanted to admit. But if it kept Raph safe, it was worth it.

A few bites in I expected him to leave. Instead, he flicked his gaze between my plate and eyes, raising a brow in challenge. I huffed, but continued eating. Spaghetti was my favorite, after all, so I figured a few extra bites wouldn’t hurt. Eventually he was satisfied and left the room for the dojo. 

I waited on bated breath until I heard the swishing of his katanas before sneaking off for the restroom. I needed to empty my stomach, and fast. Unfortunately, I bumped into Donnie on my way, who dragged me back to the living room area. His excuse was that he wanted to watch a movie with me.

This pattern continued for the following few days. To my utter frustration.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the day. The day Raph and Mikey were finally going to get out of quarantine. The day he was going to get to see you, and he couldn’t wait. He was more anxious than the first night they went topside and that was saying something.

Three days after Leo had spilled his guts about what had been going on with you and Raph felt he was almost at 100 percent. Sure, he still needed a few extra hours of sleep, to get some muscle back, and get his cardio up a bit more, but he finally got the okay from Donnie to get out of this bubble. All Donnie had to do was some last minute blood tests to make sure there was no more poison in his system and that their immune systems were up to crack after the transplant. When he gave the all clear, Raph ripped the plastic down and asked where to find you.

Raph asked everyone not to tell you that he was going to be out of quarantine because he wanted to see you before you saw him. He needed to see how true the stories were. He needed to make sure he could compose himself before you saw him.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he found you sitting alone on the couch, watching tv. A banana laid next to you, untouched, and he wondered if you had eaten yet. You needed to eat. You were so small, waif-like really. The curves he so loved on you had disappeared. Replaced with fragile looking bone. You looked exhausted with dark bags and droopy eyes. Your skin was paler than he had ever seen and your hair looked thin, not that he knew much about that, but it used to have a mind of its own. Now it was flat and lifeless. His heart broke at the sight.

Slowly- quietly- he made his way toward you. You had yet to notice him and he needed all the strength he could muster not to go off on you. Why had you not taken care of yourself- especially when you found out he was alive and well. Why had you not slept better? Ate more?

Raph grabbed the banana from behind the couch and handed it to you.

“Not hungry,” you said with barely a glance.

“Ya look hungry ta me,” he rasped, unable to speak above a whisper looking at you.

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice with so much velocity your entire body spun around, causing you to slip off the couch, arms flailing. He caught you though, and stood you up on the couch, now at eye-level.

“Raph!” You beamed up at him, wide-eyed, and threw your bird-like arms around his neck. Gently, he reciprocated with a loose hold around your waist, worried he might hurt you as he buried his nose at the crook of your neck. You looked so fragile, and he had always been like a bull in a china shop.

“Why’d you do this?” He didn’t mean to ask- he really didn’t- but he had to know. You stiffened in his hold and tried to back out of the hug, but he held you where you were. He didn’t want you falling off the couch. And he sure as shell did not want to let go. If he worried about your safety before, now he was even more concerned. There was no way he was going to let you out of his sight anytime soon. “Wha’ were you thinkin’ Swee’heart?” His voice was muffled and broken.

“I just- I wasn’t hungry, that’s all,” you shrugged in his hold as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Y/n,” Raph demanded your attention with a growl, now looking you in the eyes as he held you steady by the waist. “There’s a diffe’ence between not feelin’ hungry and starvin’ yerself!”

“Raph-”

“Don’tcha ‘Raph’ me, Princess,” he let go and stepped around the couch. You followed his every move, sitting back down while he paced between you and the tv. “Leo told me ev’rythin’. And Mikey. They were worried sick! Don’tcha know what ya mean ta them! Huh!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Raph was fuming as my heart beat wildly in my chest. Two pet names in the span of a couple minutes? It was almost too much to endure along with the fact that he was saying more than three words to me at a time until my heart sunk at the mention of his brothers and asking what I meant to them. Not him. Them. Still, I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

He was awake.

He was moving.

He was alive.

And he was just as strong as ever before.

“They were startin’ ta worry you might hurt yerself, Y/n.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, bowing my head in shame. “I wouldn’t do that.” Unless he had died, I thought to myself, remembering that night he came back injured. My first thought at the time was that I couldn’t live without him. My second; that I wouldn’t.

“Good. And I appreciate ya stayin’ next ta me an’ all, but ya shoulda got betta sleep,” he continued ranting, burning a hole in the floor with his pacing. “What if I had hurt ya in my sleep? What if I woke up an’ panicked? Huh? What then?”

“I-”

“I woulda neva been able to forgive myself if somethin’ had happened ta ya. And then I wake up without a peep from ya and learn ya lost ya job, and ya apartment. That ya haven’ slept or ate. Do ya realize how worried I was?” 

I couldn’t help but snap my head up at that tidbit of news. 

“And look at ya! Ya turned inta skin an’ bones.” 

“It’s not like I was that pretty before…” I muttered under my breath, fiddling with my fingers as I remembered all those times I wore something extra pretty to get a reaction out of him to no avail. I had secretly hoped the last time he would suddenly realize what was in front of him, but then-

Raph stopped dead, fists clenched at his sides, chest heaving as he raked his molten emerald gaze over my form. So much like he used to do when checking for injuries. In less than a beat those same eyes turned sharp as the blade that sliced his arm. “What. Did. You. Just. Say,” he growled out, sounding feral, enunciating every word with the same precision he uses with his sais.

“No-nothin’,” I stuttered out, attempting to sink myself into the back of the couch. Wishing I could disappear as he sauntered his way over, forcing me to meet his furious eyes.

“I don’t eva wanna hear that again. Yer gorgeous. The most beautiful thing I had eva seen. Do ya hear me?”

My heart stopped, mouth gaped, and eyes bulged. If he noticed my shock, he ignored it.

“I’m takin’ full responsability,” he said pointedly as I tried to remember how to breathe. “I’m gonna make sure ya get food in ya. That it stays in ya. An’ that ya get the best sleep of yer life, Swee’heart.”

Suddenly- before I could even process that he planned on becoming my caretaker- he was on his knees before me, arms wrapped around my waist as he set his head in my lap. “I wanted ta run ta ya the moment I heard. I wanted ta knock some sense inta ya. But now that I see ya...I’m neva gonna let ya outta my sight.”

Jackpot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 9

#tmnt #tmnt fanfic #raph x reader #raph #my writing #fanfic #leo #donnie #mikey #splinter #angst #happy #looking up #maybe one more chapter? #raph calls you sweetheart #raph calls you princess #pet names from raph #temper #he calls you pretty :) #aaaaaahhhhhhh #squealing

[maxrev]

For the kiss prompts: "in the snow" and "life or death" if I can combine them like that? your call) for an otp of your choice.

IT IS DONE...I had no idea this would explode into such a long prompt lol. I mean, I gave it a title and even added a quote xD. Anyways, here you are :) Thanks SO much for the prompt! A bit angsty but I figured the prompt called for it! 

Under the cut because...wow...

I’d like to thank @spaced0lphin for her wonderful musical work, as it provided inspiration to write this piece and @theoriginalladya for checking it over 

When I Took to the Sky 

Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time… It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other. Leo Buscaglia

Arcing through the debris, the drop shuttle came to rest amidst the debris of a ship, snow puffing up into the air as it landed; flakes sparkling as they danced and whirled in the air before once again coming to rest on the ground. Pulling on his gloves, the pilot reached for his helmet resting on the passenger seat and tugged it on, twisting it snug with a snap. 

He took a deep, steadying breath...and stepped out onto Alchera. 

Ever since Niall had received the message from Admiral Hackett about placing a memorial here, he’d been pushing it aside. A memorial to honor those who’d laid down their lives for the Alliance. Hardly seemed enough, considering how dismissive the findings the crew of the Normandy had presented. But the fact he was employed by Cerberus now was cause for surprise in being contacted. Other questions followed though; why had the Alliance waited so long to decide on a memorial? Had he not rose from the grave like Lazarus, would they even have bothered? 

Once he’d agreed, he continued to push it aside. There were other missions to take precedence, a ragtag bunch of crew members to hunt down and recruit, and the Illusive Man to annoy - his personal favorite agenda. Anything took precedence over coming here. He simply wasn’t ready to face the part of his past which had changed everything.  There was hope coming here would heal old wounds, rather than deepen them.  

His steps were measured, faltering when he came upon a piece of the Normandy, his mind thrown back in time invoking memories he’d suppressed of a life changing event from over two years ago.

Two fecking years! 

It was a constant struggle to process the passage of time; dying and then being resurrected without any knowledge of it.  

Pausing at the mako, he was thrown into the past, scenes flashing behind his eyes…Kaidan's white knuckled grip as Niall slid the tank through snow and ice up the mountain on Noveria; Ashley yelling with uncontained glee as he'd skidded close to the edge of the lava pools on Feros; Garrus' mandibles twitching when he'd observe the mako on return to the Normandy; Kaidan's resignation upon being turned down again upon his request to drive...the near kiss they'd shared inside the cab a few hours before their last drop when their world ended.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the approach of another drop shuttle.

A sound came from behind him, out of place in the absolute stillness around him. Niall whirled, one hand reaching for his maglocked weapon, the other erupting in a blue glow. Setting eyes on the source, both hands dropped to his side in shock. 

Kaidan.

Right away, he noticed he LT had changed. They’d spent so much time together; on the ship, off the ship, on the battlefield, he’d learned the LT’s subtle mannerisms. Gone was the quiet, sensitive marine soldier with stars in his eyes, the romantic he’d claimed to be back on the SR-1. In the eyes staring back at him carefully, in the posture of the man before him, there was a confidence and maturity he’d not had before. There was also doubt. 

It's me, Niall wanted to say, to reassure. It just wasn't so simple.

He watched the play of emotions in the deep brown eyes he'd dreamed about so often. Their eyes locked and he was thrown back in time. Although for him, it was only a few months ago...not two years, when they’d been sitting in the mess on the SR-1, drinking coffee and going over their notes on the Terminus. Niall had been going on about the goose chase they'd been sent on...

“I cannae believe they sent us out to the arse end of space for nothing! Wasted two fucking weeks looking for something which isnae even here.” He slammed his fist on the table, other soldiers in the mess startled at his outburst. Niall ignored them. 

“I’m sure they just wanted us out of the way but we’ll find something, Shepard. We just have to be patient.” 

Niall snorted, “My patience ran dry about an hour inta this mission. I’ll contact those doaty bampots and tell 'em what I really think.” 

Kaidan chuckled, took a sip of his coffee before answering, “Not your best idea by a long shot.” 

Winking at him and enjoying the slight blush across the cheeks, Niall smiled, “Aye but it’ll be fun and blow off some steam.” 

In the end, nothing came of it as the ship rocked hard to port and alarms began to blare around them...

A cough brought him back to the present, watching the brown eyes change in the light, the initial confusion fading to doubt, then replaced with wariness. 

"Who are you?" The first words to be spoken aloud between them, in the same velvety rasp which had haunted Niall’s dreams.

They cut deep, hurt worse than any wound he’d endured. He straightened up, pushing the pain away and answered. 

“Who d'ya think it is? Jolly ol' St. Nick? Tis me, Kaidan. Niall.” He felt like he was stating the obvious, words coming out sharper than intended. 

Silence followed his outburst, the sound of wind wailing in the distance filling the stillness. As the quiet stretched on, Niall reflected on the situation, quickly realizing if roles were reversed, he'd be suspicious as well. Indignation sailed away like a balloon on the wind.

Ready to apologize, Kaidan spoke before Niall could ready his words, “I thought--” voice hoarse with agony, he choked on whatever he’d been about to say, unable to continue. Looking away from Niall, he composed himself, took a deep breath and despite his attempt to remain calm, blurted, “You...you were dead.” 

Biting his tongue against voicing the LT’s mighty powers of observation, Niall fought for something a wee bit more serious and relatable. Now wasnae the time for jokes. 

“Aye," the words ‘but now I’m not’ still echoing in the air between them. How could he begin to explain what he dinnae understand himself? As if he were stuck in quick sand, he felt the more he tried to climb out, the deeper he sank. 

“So, the rumors were true.” 

“Och, aye, guess they were.” 

“When?” 

The wealth of emotion in the single word struck Niall right in the heart, nearly making him stagger from the pain. He fought for an answer, disregarding one after another as they came to him. 

With a heavy sigh, he decided on the truth, “Several months ago.” The dark brows inside the black helmet furrowed downwards into a frown he was all too familiar with. Even to his own ears the response sounded lame. “I dinnae know until then. I was...uh...I doonae even know what to call it...brought back to life?” He threw his hands up in frustration. 

Disbelief followed his statement, turning quickly to suspicion. He could see the change in Kaidan's eyes through the visor. Tone flat, he echoed, “Brought back to life." At Niall’s nod of confirmation, his voice rose, "How is such a thing even possible? Who is...capable of such a thing?” 

Knowing how Kaidan felt about the organization, Niall didn't spare him the facts. He'd find out anyway. “Cerberus.” 

The climate of Alchera was cold and frigid, unfit for flora or fauna to sustain life. Even inside his armor, Naill could feel the chill in the air and had simply wanted to walk through the ruins and leave quickly. He’d never expected to find a dog tag or get lost in memories. 

And now, with his confession, the temperature seemed to drop even further; at least where the two of them stood. Kaidan stared at him for several long, agonizing seconds. He didn’t bother answering, turning around and walking away.

Niall jumped forward, his gloved hands capturing Kaidan’s stopping him, “Wait, please. Don’t go.” 

His gaze dropped down to where their hands were joined; Niall's did as well, heart skipping in his chest. “Please.” He wasn't above begging, not when it came to Kaidan. 

Pulling his hand from Niall’s, Kaidan turned away; yet, he didn’t leave. Several minutes went by; Niall held his breath. “How could you? It’s...they’re Cerberus! You know what they’ve done. The...the things we saw!” 

Fully aware of what his impassioned words implied, Niall felt his anger rise in response, “Did ya think I had a choice in this? As if I could pick and choose who would ha’ the honors of...of fixing...of rebuilding me? Fuck! I wouldnae have chosen this at all...if anyone had ever bothered to ask me first. But here I am and will damn well make the best of it, ya ken?”

Silence stretched on around them. “Are you…you?” Kaidan whispered.

How many times had he looked in the mirror wondering the exact same thing? “I doonae know, Kaidan…" He repeated in a whisper, "I doonae know."

With the admission, he could not look at Kaidan anymore, gazed around them instead. He saw a glint of something shiny; another set of dog tags perhaps. 

To fill the void, he explained, “Saw something sparkle in the sun shortly after I landed. Walked over and found a set of dog tags belonging to Pressly. As I wandered among the wreckage I found more from the crew...the ones who…” he couldn’t say it out loud, felt a hand settle on his shoulder. 

Startled, he turned to stare at it, unable to process the gesture with Kaidan’s protests from a few short minutes ago. Did he believe him now or was it all just for show? Yet, Kaidan had never been superficial. Something Niall admired about him, then and now. 

“We’ll do it together.” The words startled him even more than the touch, but he was grateful. 

“Aye. Tapadh leat.” **

Searching the pieces of the Normandy side by side. As the looked, Niall noticed the sky darkening overhead. Caught up in the past, neither of them had paid any attention. A storm was approaching; a large one. Seeing another glint of metal, Niall brushed off the snow and wrapped the chain around his gloved fingers. 

The storm had intensified and was coming at them fast and furious. There wasn’t time for them to get to their drop shuttles and leave.

He turned and tapped on Kaidan’s helmet. “We need to take cover. Now! Get inside one of the drop shuttles!” Niall took off at a dead run towards the one closest, Kaidan hot on his heels. 

Jumping inside, Niall slammed his fist against the touchpad, shutting the door just as the storm growled over them, ice chips beating a staccato against the steel hull. Wind buffeted the Kodiak, causing it to rock before sliding a few inches along the ground. Unable to radio out and with no one able to contact them, they were sitting ducks at the mercy of the storm.  

Niall reached up and took off his helmet, scrubbing his shorn, itchy scalp with gloved fingertips. 

“You...you’re...the scars?” Kaidan finally managed. 

Niall had forgotten. Not completely healed when the Lazarus project had been sabotaged, he was left with scars where his skin hadn’t had time to knit back together. Chakwas told him by remaining calm they would eventually heal and fade but with stress, they would remain...or get worse. 

Well...

He turned towards Kaidan, their eyes locking. Niall wasn’t the man he’d been the last time they’d seen each other. 

“Aye, scars. I wasnae fully healed when...well, when I was brought out of my coma.” He went to replace his helmet. 

Kaidan stopped him, hand on his arm. “No, don’t. I don’t care what you look like, Niall. I just...I was surprised.” 

He nodded. No moreso than he when he first looked in the mirror. The image staring back at him had been a great shock. That mirror had been replaced. Niall went and sat down on the bench in the back; Kaidan remained standing, neither one speaking as the storm raged on outside. It might last an hour or maybe days. 

“Look, Kaidan--”

“Niall, I--”

Both of them spoke at once. Niall gave a weak grin as Kaidan chuckled and he noticed the pink hue covering the tips of the ears. Some things hadn’t changed. He felt as if a weight had been lifted and he’d been granted a boon. 

Looking at Kaidan straight on, he began again, “I ken how it looks. I do. But, before you draw and quarter me, I dinnae now what to do, where to go. The Alliance won’t ha’ me now and I talked with Anderson and Hackett. They know what’s going on with the human abductions. The Council won’t listen.” He spat the name, no more enamored with them than in the past. “What would ya ha’ me do?” 

“Plead your case, push them. Be relentless like you were before. They have to see reason.” 

Shaking his head at Kaidan’s blind faith, he countered, “Do they? Have they ever? Have ya forgotten Sovereign? The Citadel doesnae even remember, the damage wwept away like so much garbage, forgotten and moved on.” 

The shoulders slumped. Niall studied him, drinking in the sight of a man he hadn’t realized how much he’d begun to care about. Until he was gone. Yet, here he was right in front of him. And they were arguing, Kaidan too blind to see what was so obvious. He stood up, stepping forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Kaidan looked up. 

Niall lost himself in the brown eyes, a golden amber when the light overhead caught them just right. How had he never noticed before? The laugh lines spreading out from the corners of his eyes, the freckles above his right eyebrow. So many details he’s missed. No, he’d never bothered to find. Now, he noticed them all...and more. 

Adrenaline surged in his blood, excitement unfurling within him. He remembered the scars over Kaidan’s lips, wanting to touch them, see how they felt beneath his fingertips...against his tongue. They were right there in front of him now. Overcome with a tidal wave of pent up emotions, he acted on impulse. 

Leaning forward, he captured Kaidan’s mouth with his, losing himself in the scent and taste of him, in the soft lips, his tongue tracing the scars...finally. 

Lost in a longing he had no name for, it took Niall several seconds to register there was no reciprocation. His heart twisted painfully inside his chest. So, this was it, then. He took a deep breath, ready to apologize. But, as he stepped away, he stumbled, Kaidan surging forward to initiate the kiss this time. 

The Kodiak faded away, as did the storm outside. Only the two of them existed in this perfect moment and Niall drank it up like a parched man in the desert until they both broke away, simply in order to breathe. 

** thank you, Scottish Gaelic, informal

#prompt #laelior #mshenko #mass effect #Niall Shepard #Kaidan Alenko

[cycat4077]

Lessons

Summary: You have a little heart-to-heart with a student you're tutoring. Sonny may or may not be eavesdropping. (Set Summer 2016) Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Basically just fluff! Words: 1808 AO3: here

Part 10 of the Changes verse - but it can be read as a one-shot too.

A/N: If this is your first time seeing this series, the reader is a teacher but is in between jobs. Money is tight, you and Sonny are coming out of a big fight and now the squad officially knows about yours and Sonny's relationship. This is just a little fluff filler fic to move things along :)

"The Lean Bean". It's the logo embroidered on the pocket of the uniform you're folding. It's also the place where you've been taking shifts as a way to offset some living costs. The new school year, and a dependable paycheck, is still well over a month away. Sonny had told you not to worry about finding extra work, but the idea of living together without paying for anything didn't sit right with you - especially in such an expensive city.

Reaching into the laundry basket, you pull out a pair of dryer-warmed socks and routinely fold them in two. A clunk at the front door makes you gaze over your shoulder from your spot on the couch. Finally, Sonny is home. You greet each other affectionately, Sonny placing a kiss to your forehead.

"How was your day?" you ask, grabbing another pair of socks to fold.

"Long," he replies but you can tell from his voice that there's something more. You look at him expectantly, offering a gentle smile.

"I, uh," he hesitates, moving around the couch to take a seat. "I spoke to the squad about us today."

Sonny's eyes are apologetic; the fight of a few nights ago is still fresh in your minds. You let him know it's all right by placing a hand atop his knee.

Reassured, he continues. "They're happy for me - for us – ‘n they've noticed that I'm happier too. Actually, before I left tonight Lieu pulled me aside. She said that I have more patience with the vics ‘n that I'm more tolerant when interrogating perps. Doll, I know that I couldn't do any of that if it wasn’t for you."

"That's excellent news, Sonny!" you express, flattered by the compliment as well. "You really are a great detective."

Sonny beams for a moment before his face falls. "Also, 'n I hope you're not mad, but I took the opportunity to talk to Lieu about what happened between us…about me keepin’ you a secret from ‘em."

You feel a twinge of panic in your gut at the thought of Olivia being privy to details of your relationship troubles. That initial feeling subsides however as Sonny elaborates.

"It's just...she knows what it's like ta try ‘n balance life ‘n this job, and - "

But you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. "You don't have to explain, Sonny," you empathize. "It's good to talk things out with someone who understands."

Sonny's warm hand finds yours and he interlace your fingers. "Yeah," he agrees. "She was really sympathetic about it, too. She told me it's normal to feel scared but that it is better to be honest." His mouth curves into a lopsided grin. "Typical Lieu," he shakes his head. "Oh, ‘n I kinda told her about our situation ‘n how you were outta work until the fall - Again, I shoulda asked ya before I went there, but she was really supportive of us. In fact, she gave me the numba of a mom at Noah's daycare who's lookin' for a tutor for her daughter. Apparently she's headed inta middle school ‘n is really strugglin'."

It's a lot to take in but you assure Sonny that you're not upset with him. You appreciate his honesty. Relieved, Sonny wraps you in a hug and tells you again how lucky he is to have you.

As for the tutoring. Well, it's hard to say no. The extra cash will certainly help pay some of the bills that have increased since you moved in.

-x-

Madison is a pretty guarded girl. On the brink of being a teenager, she wants nothing to do with being tutored and everything to do with all else. Her mother dropped her off in a hurry, needing to shuttle her other two children to various extracurricular activities. Unfortunately, this left little time for introductions or for inquiries regarding the areas she particularly needed help in.

You try to be as welcoming as possible, asking her questions about her school work and attempting to understand her learning needs. The girl, however, couldn't be bothered. So, instead of blindly waltzing into curriculum review, you decide to have a little heart-to-heart.

"Madison," you speak, leaning back in your chair. "Do you know why you're here; why your mom asked me to tutor you?"

The girl refuses to meet your gaze. "Well, yeah,” she crosses her arms on your kitchen table. “Mom wants me to be tutored and stuff." There’s definitely attitude behind that tone.

You swallow your annoyance and choose your words wisely. "In simple terms, yes. But I think you know that it’s not for your mom's benefit. It's for you, so that you can start the year off prepared."

"Yeah, whatever,” she rolls her eyes with a huff. “No matter what, it's never gonna be enough anyway."

"Hey!" you defend gently. "Don't say that! My attitude is that if you know in your heart that you tried your very best, that's all you can do."

Madison studies you through the bangs that hover over her green eyes. For a moment you swear you can see the words getting through, but then she shrugs. "If I get good grades, mom promised to buy me a new iPhone."

How do you put a positive spin on this? How do you connect with this girl? "That's awesome!" you encourage. "You know, in college I was failing calculus." The girl raises her dark brows in shock. Maybe we're getting somewhere. "Yeah, I felt really dumb in that class and I just didn’t understand anything when it came to tests. Needless to say, I was panicking big time when finals rolled around. So, my dad made me a deal. We lived upstate and he absolutely hated the thought of driving in New York City, but he said that if I could pull off a 90% in the course, he would drive me here to see a Broadway show."

Now Madison is listening intently, curiosity etched across her young face.

"Both he and I thought it would be impossible, but low and behold, I hunkered down," you exaggerate a look of concentration and tuck your arms close to your body, "and studied my butt off! I passed with a 93!"

The girl's mouth drops open. "What show did you see?"

You smile fondly at the memory. "None," Madison shoots you a bewildered look, "but we did end up doing other fun stuff. I still like to tease my dad about it though and I guess I should be the one taking him since I live here now."

Madison's features soften and she allows a small chuckle.

"The point is," you say, trying to refocus the girl, "that you'd be surprised what you can do when you put your mind to it!"

You offer her an encouraging smile but Madison's quickly fades as she glances away. "It's...it's just really hard," she admits. "Mom's always so busy with my brother and sister which…kinda sucks sometimes."

Your eyebrows pinch together sympathetically. What can you say to her to let her know that it’s okay? Then your mind flickers to Sonny. "I know it's gonna be hard for me to relate to you on this one since I have no siblings, but my boyfriend comes from a big family. He has three sisters and he tells me that they used to fight like cats and dogs growing up." You can see Madison nod knowingly. "But you know what? Those squabbles really don't matter now. They love each other and they'd do anything for one another." A doting smile spreads across your face, "I'm actually kind of jealous of that. And with you, I bet that you must feel a lot of pressure to look out for your brother and sister, huh?" Madison shrugs sheepishly.

"That's a lot of responsibility, but at the same time, your siblings will appreciate you for it. They may not show you or tell you - they'll still be the same pains in the butt, however once you're all grown up, they will understand how much you've been there for them along the way. Whether you realize it or not, they look up to you. So, the greatest thing you can do for them is be the best version of yourself. By trying your best and working hard, they will learn to do that too - from you." You smile warmly at her and she returns the gesture.

It's not long after that Madison begins opening up. She explains what classes she has trouble with and how she feels about learning it. The information is invaluable and you take notes to plan out future sessions.

Madison's mother arrives a few minutes late to pick her up, but the girl flashes you a friendly smile as she leaves. You hope that you've given her more self-confidence and a little motivation to put forth her best efforts.

After you close the door behind them, Sonny pops around the corner and places a hand on the small of your back. He whispers softly into your ear. "You're amazin’, sweetheart." His breath causes a shiver to trickle down your spine.

"What? Why?" you question as Sonny slips his arms around the front of your waist.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he continues. "The way you were talkin’ to Madison earlier. You've got so much compassion ‘n understandin’."

The warmth of his words radiates throughout your body. You lean your head against his, reaching up to touch the apple pendant hanging around your neck.

"Sorry for eaves droppin' but I heard my name 'n everythin' you were sayin' was just too sweet to turn away. You're definitely in the right profession. Your students are lucky to have you."

You turn around in his arms, slipping yours around his middle. "Thank you, Sonny," you murmur before placing a soft kiss to his nose. "That means a lot."

Sonny's eyes crinkle affectionately at the corners. "N' for what it's worth, you're gonna make an amazin' mom someday too. Watchin' you with her, it was all I could think about."

Your stomach somersaults. You do want kids one day and you can't imagine having them with anyone other than Sonny. "Yeah?" you smirk. "I want that for us one day too. The way you are with children melts my heart."

Sonny's features brighten. "Ya think I'd make a good dad?"

"Absolutely!" You poke his chest gently, right overtop his heart, "you got a lotta love in here, Carisi and someday our children will be the luckiest wee munchkins in the world getting to experience the love that I receive everyday."

Overwhelmed with elation, Sonny lifts you off your feet and into a giant bear hug; a silent declaration that you make him the happiest man in the world.

---

Fun facts:

- IDK if "The Lean Bean" is a real place or not, but it's a pretty accurate description of our favorite detective ;) - The story about the reader's calculus experience is a true story! Except, I'm Canadian so the drive is a little bit further :P

I hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks for reading :3

(Feedback is loved)

Part 11 here!

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #my fanfic #sonny carisi x you #law and order svu #svu fanfiction #sonnyshine of my life #The Changes verse #Changes

[chibsytelford]

PAST AND NEW LOVES

*** GIF ISN’T MINE - credit to @obscure-imagines​ ***

My good friend @agirllovespasta​ requested:  Angsty huh 🧐 What do you think Chibs would do if Fiona was in town while he just started showing interest for reader? And reader? I really love Fiona though she is so cool. So pls end it with fluff 😂

Word Count - 1730

Authors Comment - I really enjoyed writing this one, and hope you all like it as much as I do. 

Taglist - @agirllovespasta​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @naytraydr​ @rebel-without-cause-x​ 

Your car finally stopped working. It has been making a noise for a couple of days now, but you decided to ignore it and pretend you couldn't hear it, and now it's decided to pack in. You have had this car since you passed your driving test, and it's never broken down before. Taking your phone out of your purse you called the local garage 'Teller Morrow' and asked them to send a recovery vehicle out to bring you and your car back into town.

You moved to Charming 6 months ago, but have kept yourself to yourself and stayed out of people's business. You speak if you are spoken to, and are always polite, but you don't go out of your way to make conversation. You work as a shopkeeper and actually really enjoy it. You don't speak much to people, but you do love people watching. And being a cashier, you look at and meet new people every single day. 

There is one man who comes into the shop every single day and has done since you started. He buys the same packet of cigarettes, and always queues up at your till, even if others are free. He doesn't say anything, except the occasional "hello" and you can't bring yourself to properly speak back to him either. This is a daily occurrence and a habit that you are very fond of. 

The recovery truck pulls up 10 minutes later, and out jumps mysterious shop man. This was the nickname you gave him since he hasn't bothered to introduce himself to you. 

"It's you" he says walking towards you. "Mysterious shop lass". "What happened ti yer car?"

"So he does know words other than hello" you raised your eyebrows at him. "It's been making a funny noise for a few days, and finally decided to pack in".

"Jump in the truck, and I'll take you and yer car back to the garage". He puts your car up onto the truck with ease and comes back into the driving seat. "I'm Chibs by the way, and I work at Teller Morrow".

"I'm Y/N, and I work at the shop that you have been coming into for the past 2 years to buy cigarettes" you smirk at him. For someone who doesn't do much conversing, you were becoming confident around him.

You arrived back at Teller Morrow 10 minutes later and a scary looking man came over to help Chibs get your car down from the truck. "Leave the car wi us for a few days, and we will figure out what's wrong wi it and get it back ti ye as quickly as we can" Chibs tells you. "Can ye give me yer number so I can phone ye when it's done?" He hands you a pen and paper from his overall pocket and you jot down your number for him.

"Thank you Chibs". The scary looking man is just staring at you as if that's a normal thing to be doing. 

"Is that her?" The scary looking man opens his mouth. Chibs punches the man on the shoulder and gives him a death stare. "That's her isn't it brother, the mysterious shop girl"

"Happy brother, I suggest ye fuck off before I dae something I'm gonna regret". Happy retreats slowly with his hands in the air and a smirk playing on his lips.

"He's called Happy?" You can't help but laugh. "I wouldn't like to ever be on the wrong side of that man".

"Can a give ye a ride hame?" Chibs offers. 

"Yes please if you don't mind". 

"JAAAAAAAXXXX" Chibs shouts. A blond haired man comes swaggering out of the garage with a cigarette in his mouth. "Am just taking Y/N hame and I'll be back Jackie Boy". 

Chibs hands you a helmet and gestures for you to get onto the back of his bike. You do as you're told and give him directions to your house. It takes about 5 minutes before he pulls up outside your door. 

"Can a tell ye something lass? Ave been coming intae yer shop for the last 6 months, just ti see ye. There's something about ye a canny quite put ma finger on. Before now, a couldn't work up the courage ti say anything other than hello, but now I'm asking ye, will ye go out wi me? On a date?" Chibs asked.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been 2 months since he asked you out, and you two have been inseparable since. You've learned that Chibs is part of a motorcycle club, that does some illegal stuff sometimes but you asked him not to expand on that. You have also learned that Happy is actually very sweet and nice when you get to know him, but for people who don't know him, he is terrifying. The rest of the guys are really cool with you and took you under their wing straight away. You fit in so well and you and Chibs are doing amazingly. You guys rarely argue and when you do it's over who left the bathroom light on at night at your house, or who's turn it is to do the dishes. You don't live together, but he stays over most nights. Chibs isn't one to tell you what he's feeling, of course you guys haven't said the big L word yet, but he has told you he likes you, and that's enough for you.

When you woke up Chibs was already gone, which wasn't like him. If he does wake up before you, he always leaves a note on his pillow telling you where he is, but you couldn't find one this morning. You checked your phone and saw the time read 1030am. Getting dressed, you went downstairs to see if there was a note in the kitchen. There wasn't. You tried calling him but his phone went to voicemail, so you decided to go to Teller Morrow to see if he is there. Just to put your mind at ease. 

When you got there you saw him straight away, with his arms wrapped around a beautiful curly haired woman who had her arms wrapped around him too. They looked very cozy together and you instantly felt sick. You had been cheated on in the past, and so you automatically assumed the worst when you saw Chibs cuddling this mysterious woman. He lead her into the garage office so you decided to head over there too and see what was going on. You hid at the side of the door and listened first.

"Fi, what are ye dain here? He asked her softly.

"I came to give you these Filip". She pulled what looked like some papers from her bag and handed them to Chibs. "They're divorce papers".

You were stunned, Chibs was married? The man you've been sleeping with, and falling in love with for the past 2 months since you became more than acquaintances, was married? You turned around and ran towards your car as quick as you could, but not before letting out a sob which you're sure Chibs heard. You heard footsteps behind you but you didn't wait around to see who it was, as you fled towards your house.

You hadn't even been in your house 2 minutes before you heard the rumble of Chibs' bike. 5 seconds later he was standing in front of you.

"I don't know what ye heard lass, but a can explain". You put your hand up to silence him.

"Explain that you're married Chibs? That's not just something you forget! You have been living under my roof for the past 2 months, and you conveniently forgot to tell me you're fucking married!" You were so angry and upset.

"Am sorry darling, me and Fi have been over fur years now, she's an incredible woman but a don't love her anymore". He tries to reach for you but you're not quite ready to be touched yet. 

"Don't. Please. You should have told me. You left me in bed this morning without telling me where you were going, to go and see her!" A part of you knew you should at least hear him out properly, but you had fallen for Chibs completely, and were worried you were going to lose him so quickly.

"Lass just sit down for 5 minutes, that's all am asking, and if ye want me ti go after that, a will". "Fi and I have been married fur many years, but it's also been over fur many years too, I haven't seen her in ages and only get the occasional text fi her. A text her last week telling her a wanted a divorce, cause ave met someone else. I also have a daughter, Kerrianne with her, and unfortunately I don't see her as much as a would like. There's this prick back in Ireland who has stopped me from seeing them both. She managed to get away fi him, and she's staying at a hotel until she figures out her next move. Ma kid is there too. Fi knows about ye love, and ad love it if ye came wi me to meet ma kid, and meet Fi".

It was a lot to take in, but you agreed to go with Chibs to meet Fi and his daughter. You drove the both of you over to the hotel they were staying at. Chibs knocked on the door, and the beautiful woman from earlier opened it, smiling at the both of you.

"You always knew how to pick them Filip" she told him with a smile. "I'm Fiona, Filip's soon to be ex wife, it's so nice to meet you Y/N". You shook her hand and offered her a smile back. "I'm sorry about this morning, I showed up announced, but only to give Filip the divorce papers, that's all, we will be out of here soon, when I figure out where our next home is".

"Why don't you stay for a bit?" You asked her. "It would be nice to learn more about you, and Filip's daughter too, if that's OK?". You looked at Chibs for reassurance, squeezing his hand with all the love you have for him. You know you are going to get through this, and you are excited about what the future holds for the two of you.

#chibs telford fanfic #chibs telford x reader #sons of anarchy #filip telford #samcro #soa

[scapegrace74-blog]

Satellite Mind

A/N  I can’t stop myself.  I’m weak!  Weak!  The Saorsa-sequel is coming along, but the Metric universe just won’t leave me alone.  This story takes place just after Lost Kitten and Gimme Sympathy.  Previous fics are available on my AO3 page.

Oh, and mild warning for foul language, if that’s not your thing.

The song by Metric that inspired the title and a few lines is here.

January 14, 2017, Spittalfields, England

“I’m happy for you, Geillis, really.  I mean... Cartagena, wow.  You can, what?  Dabble in the emerald market?”

Her friend saw right through Claire’s glass face to her latent fear of abandonment.  Fiercely independent, a precious handful of friendships and habits anchored her in the world.  Without those tethers, she lived with a nameless dread that she might spin off into the void, lost in a great emptiness.

“Dinna lie tae me, Claire Beauchamp.  Ye havna left yer bed in the twenty-four hours since I told ye.  Ye’re jus’ starin’ up at the ceiling.  Ye ken I wouldna ever want tae leave ya were it no’ for someone truly special.  Juan Carlos, he’s...”

“Built like a stevedore and hung like a stallion, I believe were your exact words,” she interrupted, smiling despite herself at Geillis’ moonstruck infatuation.  The redhead had met the Columbian businessman at a New Year’s celebration and now, two weeks’ later, had dropped the bombshell that she was planning on following him back across the Atlantic in the spring, leaving Claire without a roommate just as her income was nearly halved by the commencement of her medical studies.

“Aye, he is that.  Everyone thinks I’m mad, but it’s the real thing between he and I.  I jus’ feel it.  Ye’ll ken the feeling yerself one day.  But I willna leave ye high an’ dry.  I’ll see ye settled, a’fore I go.”

Claire doubted that very much.  It was Geillis’ name on the lease, which meant that as soon as she gave notice their landlord was free to increase the rent.   Spittalfields was moving upmarket as one dilapidated industrial building after another was converted into lofts and chic office space for the urban gentry.  There was no way she’d be able to afford the new payment at their current flat, even if she could find another roommate she could stomach.  And moving out on her own was equally out of the question.   The ghost of her past mistakes haunted her most when she was alone.

***

February 2, 2017, Royal London Hospital, England

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”  A metal spoon clattered into the break-room sink and a few other nurses glanced over, trying to decide if bloodshed between the two was imminent.

“Tis is a matter of some debate,” Geillis replied, undaunted.  She’d expected this reaction, which was why she’d cornered Claire during the short overlap between their shifts when she couldn’t run away.  At least the British Army had left Afghanistan, although South Sudan was still a possibility.

“James Fraser.  You approached Jamie Fraser, without my permission I might add, to find out whether he still had a room to let.  I cannot fucking believe you, Geillis Duncan!   Where do you get off...”

“First,” Geillis interrupted the predicted tirade by holding up her index finger, “you yerself remarked on his lovely flat, and how fastidious he was.  Second, tis in the neighbourhood an’ right around the corner from tha’ chipstand ye love.  Third, ye’re both shift workers and will hardly see each other.  Fourth, if ye do bump inta the wee fox cub when he’s runnin’ about in his skivvies, weel, thas a hardship many a lass would be willing tae face in yer place.  And fifth,” here Geillis raised her palm and outstretched fingers right in front of Claire’s nose, “ye can afford it.”

Claire huffed, but was otherwise silent.  She couldn’t deny that Geillis’ points were mostly valid, but she hated the idea of accepting charity from Jamie, of being seen as a burden.  If she’d approached him herself, perhaps...

“Wait a second.  How did you even know Jamie still had a room to let?  Have you been in contact with him?”  Something toxic simmered in her belly.   Geillis and Jamie texting each other.   Talking about her behind her back.  Sharing intimacies from which she was excluded.   It was a flashback of a feeling that hit too close to home for comfort.

“Och, no.  Didna I tell ya?  I ken the lad’s uncle, Dougal Mackenzie.  Bald as a billiard cue, but tha’ man can fuck for hours.  I remember one time, we were...”

“Oh my god, Geillis, please tell me you didn’t cheat on Jamie with his uncle!”

“It canna be cheatin’ if ye were ne’er together tae begin wi’,” Geillis pronounced.  “Ye’re too ecclesiastical by half, Beauchamp.  T’anyway, I hadna met Dougal when yon lad and I had our... dalliance.  But imagine ma surprise when I showed up tae meet Dougal at Bethall Fire Station in a wee red dress tighter than a nun’s chuff, an’ standin’ right next tae him is the fox cub, face turning bright as a forge.  Twas an awkward moment tae be sure, even measurin’ by my very high standards.”

***

February 13, 2017, Spittalfields, England

“Ye’ll be wantin’ tae look about the kitchen, I reckon.  Twas the only room ye didna really see, when ye were here last.  An’ the storage locker, but there’s nought down there but sportin’ equipment tha’ reeks tae high heaven.  No’ that I dinna try tae wash out the stench, mind you.”  

Jamie resolved to limit himself to two word sentences for the rest of the tour.   Anything more was too great a risk to his dignity.

“It’s lovely, especially with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.  How much is the monthly heating bill again?”

It was almost Valentine’s Day and Claire still didn’t know where she was going to live come March.  She’d flipped through free rental magazines and scrolled a few message boards, but hadn’t made any serious efforts to secure a new home.   She told herself she was too busy preparing for medical school and working full-time, but in the back closet of her mind she allowed the idea of moving in with Jamie to take root.   

Then, last night while drifting through the deep fog just before sleep she’d had a thought.   Living with Jamie would finally put an end to all of Geillis’ awkward match-making efforts.  If they were roommates, they couldn’t be anything else besides.  Rolling over and grabbing for her phone before she could second-guess herself, she fired off a quick text to the number Geillis had added to her Contacts under Wee Fox Cub.   Despite the late hour, two minutes later he texted back.   And now here she was, seriously contemplating the impossible.

They were sitting across from each other on the couch, negotiating terms.  Claire found herself making ridiculous demands, somehow hoping that Jamie would balk at the last minute and this perilous adventure would come to its natural end.

“I’ll be studying when I’m not on shift, so loud noise and music is a deal breaker for me,” she listed while eyeing the bowl of trail mix set out on the coffee table.

“I own a good pair o’ headphones, and my sister would tell ye there’s a reason I dinna sing outside o’ the shower.   Did ye want some?”  Jamie extended the bowl in her direction, but she shook her head.

“If I’m to live here, the flat will need to be ours equally.  I know you lived here first, but I’d be paying half the rent.  That means we share common elements down the middle.  Half the cabinet space, half of the refrigerator and freezer.”  She looked around the main room, where it was obvious Jamie did most of his living.  “I’d want to put my desk below the window there, where there’s lots of natural light.  I don’t want to always be hidden in my bedroom like some low-rent AirBnB guest.”

“O’ course,” Jamie quickly agreed.  “I can clear out some of my books and such from the shelves as weel.  And I was thinkin’ of movin’ the Xbox inta my room.  There’s ano’er TV in there, ye ken, so ye won’t be exposed tae my tears while I’m watchin’ Six Nations matches.”

“That won’t be necessary, Jamie.  I really don’t have many things.  Some holdover to my years living out of a suitcase with my uncle, I suppose.”

He was being altogether too agreeable.  It was time to break out the big guns.

“We need to talk about one last thing.  Some might think it usual for a young woman who is single, living with a young man who is single to feel a certain...”

“Wha’ makes ye think I’m single?” Jamie interrupted, and she snapped her mouth shut in surprise.

“Well, with your history with Geillis, and I’ve never seen you with someone, I just assumed...” she trailed off, fighting down the urge to bolt.

Jamie laughed.  “I’m teasin’ ye, Claire.  O’ course I’m single.  Do ye think I’d be contemplating inviting a bonnie lass tae share my flat if I were spoken for?”

“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it?  People might make assumptions.  One of us might do so as well.   Feelings would get hurt.  So I think it’s important to be very clear at the outset.  You seem like a lovely man, but there will never be anything between us.”

“Because of my history wi’ Geillis, y’mean?” Jamie asked.

“Well, that as well.  But also because I’ll be far too busy with work and my studies to sustain any kind of relationship, least of all with someone who, when things fall apart, would be in a position to leave me without a roof over my head.  I’ve been there before, and I don’t intend to ever go back.”

“Aye, I see.” Jamie nodded absently, obviously digesting this large morsel of information and not finding it entirely to his taste.

“So that’s my final stipulation.  I don’t mind if you have overnight visitors. You’re a grown man, and you can act as you please.  But we need to agree that any kind of romantic relationship between us is off-limits.”

Claire grabbed a handful of snacks and popped them into her mouth.  She observed Jamie as she chewed.  In retrospect, this was a brilliant move on her part.  If Jamie accepted, she would have solved for both her housing crisis and her ambivalent feelings towards the Scot.  And if he declined, well, that would tell her something too.

Squaring his shoulders, Jamie extended his hand.

“We’re agreed.”

And that was how Jamie and Claire became just roommates.

#my writing #outlander

[cowpokecorner]

For Whom the Bell Tolls Part 1 // Micah x Reader

FO: So I guess I'm gonna knock these boys down one by one with x Reader stories. This one is on the longer side, so I'm gonna do it in parts. Might take me a bit to finish it as I've been working on just part 1 for a few days now. If you guys are enjoying my writing so far, maybe you can choose who's up next. Still need to do one for John, Dutch, and Caleb. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this one, and I'll get the second part up as soon as I can. :3

==========================================

You closed your eyes and drew in a deep breath through your nose as you took in the scents of nature around you. The grass, the trees, the warm spring breeze, and even the smell of the river where you had decided to come to fish for a bit. You opened your eyes again to sit down on the shore and set up your rod to begin the task of collecting your dinner for the evening. You had gotten an early start, heading down to the water just after a quick lunch in Rhodes, as you figured you'd probably be here all afternoon just trying to catch even one fish. You never really were all that good at the sport.

You had left your home town on horseback alone in search of a better life only a few short weeks ago, but even so... In that time you had run in to a bit of trouble here and there. You had picked the absolute worst time to visit the town of Strawberry as your first break from the road after a few days. You damn near got killed when a shootout started as you were leaving one of the shops with supplies. Somehow you managed to escape unharmed though. You always did seem to have good luck in those types of situations. It wasn't but a few days later that you nearly got caught up in what appeared to be a stage coach robbery by the same two men you thought you had seen in Strawberry during the shootout. You wondered about them. Who they were, and why you seemed to be making a habit of running into them. However, you weren't going to think about that right now. Today was a day to relax.

As you cast your first line you could hear something in the distance. Singing? You glanced in the direction the sound was coming from and noticed a small boat coming down the river toward you. You opted not to say hello as it drew nearer as the men aboard seemed to be quite enjoying themselves, and you didn't want to ruin their fun. It was only when they slowly rowed past you that you recognized the man controlling the vessel. He had been with the blond in Strawberry and at the stage coach robbery. He seemed...different though. Before he appeared to be a hardened outlaw, but right here...right now... He seemed like a normal guy out fishing with his friends. They all sounded so happy as they continued along and sang among themselves. It put a smile on your face. You didn't see much genuine happiness these days.

Your happy heart, however, would be short lived. As the boat cleared your sight and their voices faded from earshot, you picked up on another sound. Horse hooves. You had yet to catch anything, and with all this commotion you had a feeling you weren't going to. You sighed as you reeled in your line to see if anything had even taken the worm without snagging the hook. Nope. Nothing. The hoof beats were growing closer now though. You glanced over your shoulder to see another familiar sight. The blond from the prior encounters on his black horse. He was riding along the river toward where you sat from the direction the boat had gone. He kept his head down, but you could tell it was him. You bit your lip as you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Maybe if you just went back to fishing he wouldn't notice you? At least, that's what you hoped as you switched out the worm for a fresh one and cast your line a second time. You wouldn't be so lucky.

As the man approached he took notice of you and slowed his horse to a stop by a tree a few yards away. You only glanced at him over your shoulder for a quick second before going back to watching the line. He seemed to be watching you though. You did your best to ignore the creeping feeling that you had just become this guy's next robbery target. You suddenly had a flashback to your older brother warning you how dangerous it was to go it alone on the road, but you had assured him you could take care of yourself. Problem was, now you weren't so sure. You took a deep breath and did your best to focus on the fishing, but your attention would once again be draw away by the sound of footsteps approaching you.

"Well ain't you just the finest little ol' thing~" His husky yet smoothe voice almost caused you to jump out of your skin. He made his way to stand about a foot or so away from you, looking down with a sly smirk on his face. His had shaded his eyes a bit from the sun.

"P-pardon...?" You responded as you tried not to look at him. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat. Something about him was extremely intimidating, but hearing him speak to you that way caused your cheeks to burn a little.

Rather than repeating himself, the man took a seat on the shore next to you with one leg stretched out and the other bent up. He rested his arm over the bent knee and let the other lay in his lap. "Now, what possessed ya ta come all the way out here all alone like this?"

You swallowed hard before answering him. "W-well... I came out ta enjoy the nice weather n' do some fishin' so I can have supper t'night. I don't really have all that much money, so I can't really afford ta be stayin' in saloons n' buyin' expensive food."

He chuckled a bit. "Don't seem like ya been catchin' much, hm?" He sniffled a bit as he looked out to the water. He had taken notice of the fact that you had nothing in the pail with you.

"Yeah...well... Ain't never been all that good at fishin', n' it don't help none that before you showed up a few other fisherman came rowin' down river singin'. Prolly scared all the damn fish away." You huffed a bit. Why was he making conversation with you like he knew you? "Don't figure your horse's hoofsteps helped much." You muttered.

He seemed slightly amused by your last comment but stayed quiet for a moment. He glanced to you again, a bit of realization in his expression. "Hold up a minute... Ain't I seen you someplace else b'fore?"

You quickly brought a hand up to tug your hat down slightly. He had recognized you. This caused your cheeks to burn more as you spoke. "N-no... I don't think I've seen ya nowhere b'fore...." What if he thought you recognized him and was concerned you might turn him in? Would he hurt you? Or...worse...?

He studied you quietly for a moment before looking back out to the water with a soft sigh. "Well... Y'said you ain't got much money, so... How bout rather'n sittin' out here all day tryin'a fish n' catchin' nothin'...ya let me take you inta Rhodes for a proper meal?" He smirked a bit as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

Your eyes widened as you looked to him in surprise. Did he just...? "N-no! Ya don't gotta do that. I-I'll be fine. M'sure I'll catch somethin' soon. I ain't no one ta fuss over." Surely this guy was trying to lure you away to rob or kill you. It probably wasn't a good idea to trust him.

He looked to you with a seemingly genuine smile as he removed his hat and placed it in his lap. "Awwww c'mon now. I could show ya a real good time~" He lidded his eyes as he leaned toward you a bit. "N'I know ya just met me n' all, so ya ain't got much reason ta trust me. But I assure you I'm good for it~" His tone was smoothe, and he spoke so effortlessly.

You looked away, shifting your gaze back down to the fishing rod in your hands as you thought to yourself. It had been a while since you'd had a nice meal and a drink. He seemed to be telling the truth, and...he was quite handsome. Maybe something else coud... You quickly shook that thought out of your head before reeling your line back in. "Alright then...but just dinner. Nothin' else. I ain't lookin' ta get m'self inta any mischief."

"Course not. Dinner. No mischief, but...maybe a couple a drinks n' a bit a fun in a saloon room later?" He grinned as he narrowed his eyes, leaning even closer now.

Your face grew hot with blush once more as you tried to hide it with your hat. "J-just...d-dinner... M-maybe a drink r' two... N-nothin' else..." You quickly packed up your things and stood. You headed over to your horse to pack everything up before turning back to the man.

He too had stood and made his way over to his horse, which he had led over to where you stood with yours. "Guess I can lead the way, n' you can follow." He mounted and turned in the right direction, looking back to see you do the same. He smirked once more and looked back ahead. "Yah!" He called out as he gave his horse a swift boot to the sides and took off.

You did the same with your horse, quickly following after him. Although he was quite fast. You only lagged behind a bit though, and it gave you some time to think about what was going on. You made sure to keep yourself in check and alert so he couldn't pull anything on you, and you came up with a plan for what to do if things began to take a turn for the worst. You nodded to yourself to confirm your plan as you reached the edge of town. He lead you to the nearby saloon and dismounted, hitching his horse as he waited for you to do the same. The saloon wasn't the most ideal dinner location in your mind, but at least  they would have good food.

After the two of you had received food and drink and taken a seat at one of the smaller tables, the man seemed to study you a moment before reluctantly taking a bite of food. You nervously did the same, glancing between him and your food a few times before deciding to speak up. "Um...so... I uh...don't believe we exchanged names." You lightly poked at your food with your fork as you spoke.

"Bell." He snorted a bit. "Micah Bell. N'yers?" He looked to you with curious eyes awaiting your response.

"Micah~" You smiled sweetly. "That's a lovely name." You caught yourself staring at him a moment before you realized you hadn't given your name. "Oh um... I'm (Y/N). It's um... It's a pleasure ta meetcha." You did your best to sound as pleasant as possible as you gave a nervous smile. You quickly returned to your food, a bit anxious about where things would go from here.

The meal seemed to drag on in silence, only the sound of other people talking and the piano playing filling your ears. It was honestly a bit odd how eager he was to talk to you before, and now he seemed almost...afraid to. You noticed him staring at you from time to time, but you tried not to let him know. You gingerly sipped your wine after you finished your meal. This was probably the most you had eaten at one time since having left home. At least he was willing to pay for it.

"So." He finally spoke up, almost causing you to jump out of your seat. "I ain't stupid. I know I've seen ya b'fore. If I'm not mistaken....you was in Strawberry a couple weeks back...wasn'ch?" He raised a brow and smirked.

Well shit. He had indeed recognized you from the exact place you hoped he wouldn't. You laughed nervously as you rubbed the back of your head. "Eheh...y-yeah... There was a pretty big uproar while I was there too... Couple'a crazy guys were shootin' up the place. I uh... I didn't stick 'round long enough ta find out why. Reckonned I'd be better off gettin' the hell outta there." Hopefully he wouldn't catch on that you recognized him as one of the 'crazy guys'.

Micah seemed amused by your statement. He chuckled a bit as he leaned back in his chair and knocked back a swig of his whisky. "Was pretty great, huh?" He laughed a bit louder and leaned back closer to you, arms resting on the table. "Y'know... Messes like that are some a the most fun experiences I've ever had in my life~ Ain't nothin' better then feelin' yer heart racin' as yer runnin' from the law. Gets yer blood pumpin' real good. N' just the idea that of death beein' at yer doorstep..."

You watched as his expression changed as he spoke. He went from being rather calm and possibly even a bit nervous to suddenly having an excited and crazed look in his eyes. The odd thing was...he seemed so passionate about this lifestyle he'd chosen. As if it meant the world to him. "Well...that's all well n' good if you're okay with dyin', but I'd rather play it safe and honest. I couldn't forgive m'self if I did somethin' reckless n' never made it home t'ma family."

Micah's expression suddenly changed once more. He frowned, furrowing his brows before allowing his expression to relax. He leaned back in his chair once more with a sigh. "Yeah...fam'ly...right..." Something seemed to be bothering him now. He quickly brought the bottle to his lips to slug back a few more swigs. His cheeks had become a bit rosey as the alcohol began to take affect.

You frowned as you looked at him. It seemed the mentioning of 'family' had struck something within him. Had something bad happened to his family? Did he even have a family? You felt bad for even bringing it up now. You sighed softly and finished off your wine before speaking once more. "Well... Thanks fer dinner... It was...lovely..." You slowly stood, preparing to head out now. You figured it would be best to not linger if you had done something wrong.

"Yer leavin'...?" He asked, not looking up to you as his had hid his face. He sounded almost...sad. Maybe a bit disappointed that you were leaving.

"Yeah. I prob'ly should. Best ta find a place n' set up camp b'fore it gets too dark." You replied softly. You felt bad now. Should you stay to make sure he was okay? You hardly knew the man, and he was clearly a dangerous outlaw.

"Y-y'know... A-a-a warm bed in a saloon room'd be much...nicer~" He peeked up at you from under his hat, seeming to force a slight smile. His speech seemed a bit off from the way he had been speaking before.

You had already told him you had no intentions of spending the night with him in a room, but...he seemed to lonely and a bit...depressed. Surely one night couldn't hurt. Besides, just because you shared a room for the night didn't mean you had to...y'know. "Well.... Alright. I'll stay with ya just fer t'night." You gave him a warm smile as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

He chuckled a bit before slowly standing, a bit wobbly as he tried to steady himself. "Alright then~!" He stumbled slightly as he made his way to the owner of the saloon to ask about a room.

You couldn't help but smile a bit at how much happier he seemed just by you saying yes. You smiled warmly as you watched him and waited to be called away from the noisy saloon scene. This would be your first night sharing a room with anyone aside from your older brother. You could feel your head swimming a bit from the couple of glasses of wine you had with dinner, and you hoped this didn't make you easier to persuade into anything. Just one night. It would be fine. Right?

#Foxy Outlaw #written #Micah Bell #x Reader #RDR2 #red dead redemption 2 #cowboy #cowpoke #western #old west #rat man #outlaw #cute #date #Part 1 #Part 2 coming soon

[jocelyn-wellson]

With Melody at work, Joci had spent the past few days in Stormwind going from one smithy to the next, testing alloys, heft, bulk. She could not find a single smith who had been able to offer that which she had been looking for, save for a blind dwarf who had worked in 'the North.' Joci assumed he meant 'Alterac,' while he had, of course, meant Northrend. 

“Yer askin’ fer a copper an’ zinc bronze alloy ... wit’ aluminum an’ titanium,” he said, summing up their discussion. 

“Can ya do et?”

The old dwarf laughed. “Cannae do et. I studied wit’ frost dwarves. If ya wanted tungsten coating, that’d be hard, lass.”

She was obliged to take the unsolicited bait. “...tungsten coatin’?”

The dwarf stood. He felt his way across the shop, running his hands across metal ingots. He stopped on one of the last and grunted, using both hands to pick it up. He set it into the forge. 

“Wot...?”

“Jus’ watch et,” said the dwarf. 

Joci crossed her arms. She watched for five minutes. Nothing happened. “...’kay...”

The smith took a inch-sized cube of aluminum and dropped it into a small metal vessel. It began to melt almost immediately. 

“Th’ fuck...?”

“Ah now ya be seein’ et,” said the smith. 

“Ya be showin’ me this why?”

“I’ll give ya a 10% discount if ya’ll let me use et.”

Joci was dumbfounded. “You wanna coa’ th’ surface wit’ tungsten? Fer free?”

“Oh, aye, aye,” replied the smith. “Et’s just sittin’ up there, wastin’ space. What do ya think?”

Joci placed her set of brass knuckles on the counter. “Make ‘em just a hair bigger. ‘er ‘ands ain’ much bigger than mine. 80% copper an’ 16% zinc wit’ aluminum and titanium ... and tha’ tungsten coa’. Leathah grip.”

“When ya want 'em, darlin’?”

“‘ow soon can ya do et?”

“Two days. One fer the mould, another fer the cast an’ polish.”

They discussed the price. She described the person for whom it was being made, how she was going to train her, and how she had been trained. He complimented her knowledge of metallurgy. 

“Comes wit’ th’ territory, yea?”

The dwarf shrugged. “Ya be surprised at how many people donnae care jus’ what goes into their blades ... or ass-whoopin’ weapons.”

“Bu’ ya live an’ die by ‘em...” 

“Still donnae people care what’s inside.” He drew closer. “Legen’ has et that an agen’ of the Black Empire was inside one, ‘til recent.”

She remembered that term: Black Empire. Myz had told her about it. She’d have to ask about this mythical blade. “Ya kin pu’ souls inta thin’s? Like weapons, I mean.”

The blind smith laughed. “Nay. I cannae. Donnae want anythin’ ta do with that stuff. Bad magic. Real world is ‘ard enough.”

“Bu’ —”

“— others can.” He started to laugh. “Dark arts if ya ask me, a whole bunch of bullshit. But I’m a dwarf. I like the things I kin feel, the weight of its history.”

“Kinda like ‘ow e’erythin’ ‘as an essence.”

The dwarf snapped his fingers. “Oh, aye! Smart lass!”

Joci was about to protest; instead, she offered a timid thank you. 

“If ya donnae mind a little more weight, I kin treat yers, too. With tungsten.”

“‘ow much?”

“Ya run somethin’ ta me ore wholesaler up in Ironforge. Take the Tube. Back in three hours, tops.” He held his hand out. 

Joci shrugged. Where Unit 8 was concerned, all of their leads were cold, and — on a personal level — she wanted to wait until she could give something substantial to Quinn on their first day of training. Besides, her knuckles would be getting an retooling for free. And she might be making a contact. Or something.

“Alrigh’ then,” she said, shaking the proffered hand. It was old and gnarled, calluses from years at the forge. She trusted that hand. “Ya go’ yerself a deal.”

( @quinn-varden / @kat-hawke )

#jocelyn wellson #brass and glass #unit 8 #[ cyanide itches ] #story #wra rp #wyrmrest accord #wyrmrest rp

[the--highlanders]

14. Love

on ao3.

The landing hall was packed with people, the walls pressing in around them until the place felt shrunken and airless. Only yesterday it had been indescribably huge, the marble floors and carved stone ceiling cold and unfriendly, but now Jamie was burning with anticipation and nervousness, shifting his weight from side to side impatiently, and he had no heart to admire the architecture. He had waited seven days, but the last few minutes were somehow the worst of it all. Glancing around, he saw his agitation reflected in the faces of the people around him, saw it in children bouncing up and down and tugging on adults’ clothes, in the clenched fists of brothers and sisters and husbands and mothers, in the flower wreaths and baskets of fruit carried by some.

But it was not quite the same, he reminded himself. It might have been – would have been, even – but he had just had to go and do something stupid.

It had seemed so simple – to shout out I love you, just as the Doctor boarded the rocket, just as it was too late for him to reply. A cowardly move, perhaps. But it had been said, and that was all that mattered. At least, he had thought so at the time, before the nail-biting anxiety of waiting set in. It had been seven days of torture, not knowing what the Doctor had thought, or if he would even speak to him when he returned.

If he leaves me behind, this wouldn’t be such a bad place to stay, he had told himself firmly.

Ben and Polly wouldn’t let him do that, he had thought.

 He wouldn’t do that.

 Would they?

 Would he?

A great rumbling shook the floor of the hall, shaking the gilded chandelier that hung above them. The people around him clutched at each other, some shushing children that had begun to wail. He stood amongst it all in silence, rooted to the spot, then began to push himself to the front of the crowd, as determined as if he were possessed. The Doctor would almost certainly be the first one out, the hero of the hour, as keen to soak up the attention as he was to deny that he enjoyed it. He could hear the shouts of the landing-stage staff beyond the door, hear the crash of the rocket landing and the clunk of its sides opening, the chatter of voices – his heart was pounding so hard that he thought it would surely give out before he even saw the Doctor -

The first cluster of people burst through the door, and the crowd around him erupted into cheers, but Jamie could only stare at them blankly. All five of them were complete strangers to him. The Doctor was not there.

Another group came into the hall after them, young men who were immediately descended upon by a gaggle of older women, embracing them and placing flower crowns on their heads. They beamed out at the rest of the hall, raising their arms in triumph. Each of them bore neatly patched-up scratches and scrapes, and one or two moved gingerly, betraying worse injuries.

More and more people were pouring in from the rocket now, and Jamie’s blood ran cold. He should have insisted that he go with the Doctor. There had been nobody to look after him, to stop him from doing something dangerous. On any other day he would have fought the issue right up until the Doctor stepped on board, and after that too – but he had gotten that idea into his head, to tell the Doctor he loved him. And now the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

The hall was beginning to empty, families clutching at each other as they headed outside and home again. Jamie watched each of them go, but he could never tear his eyes away from the new arrivals for long, his heart leaping every time the door was pushed open. The happy chatter of reunited people around him was drowned out by the rushing sound that filled his ears. The Doctor must be somewhere, he thought. They would tell us if something terrible had happened. Someone would have said something.

 Wouldn’t they?

Maybe he had brought it upon himself, a nasty little voice deep inside him was saying. Just by speaking the words he had told himself he would never say. How could he have been so selfish? Could he not have kept it to himself, contented himself with the Doctor’s friendship, not been so bold as to ask for more? Could he not have just accepted that he would have to live with his longing, rather than trying to get something he did not deserve?

Distantly, he was aware that his legs had begun to shake, weakened by the adrenaline draining out of his system. He sunk to his knees, eyes glazed over, though whether with disbelief or tears he did not know. The opening and closing of the door had faded into white noise, the people around him little more than faceless clusters. All he knew was that none of them were the Doctor. Nobody was coming to forgive him for what he had said.

The door was pushed open again, and two men hobbled through, one leaning heavily on the other. Jamie glanced up briefly, saw that the stronger of the two was a stranger, and looked away – then slowly raised his head again. The person leaning on him was the Doctor, hunched over and looking so small and tired that he almost vanished into his coat. Jamie all but leapt to his feet, rushing over to stop just short of the pair.

“What happened?” he demanded. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Jamie.” The Doctor’s voice was faint, but he still managed a weak smile. The fond rebuke in his tone should have settled Jamie’s nerves, but it only made him antsier, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I’m quite alright.”

“You’re not alright.” The Doctor stumbled, and Jamie reached out to him instinctively. “What’ve ye gone and done to yourself?”

The other man had stepped back to let Jamie take the Doctor’s weight, half-turned away from them. “He had to plug himself into the Xenii mainframe,” he put in. “We only just managed to get him off their ship before it blew up, and...” He swallowed. “It took its toll on him.”

“Will he be alright?” The other man glanced down at his feet instead of replying. “Well, will he be?”

“I’ll be fine.” The Doctor raised one hand to pat Jamie’s arm, but erupted into a bout of coughing. “Don’t worry about me,” he added, altogether too hoarsely to be believable. “I just need time, that’s all.”

“You’re gonnae rest.” Wrapping the Doctor’s arm around his shoulders, Jamie took him by the waist and guided him into taking a small step across the hall. “Ben an’ Polly are at the control station, we’ll – we’ll find them an’ get ye some help.”

“No need,” the Doctor was saying, but Jamie only gripped him more determinedly. “Ah – not so tight, Jamie.”

“Oh.” Cheeks prickling, Jamie loosened his hold. “Sorry.” He nodded to the other man as they passed him, mouth pressed into a poor semblance of a smile. “But we’re gonnae look after ye, alright? An’ then, maybe -” Embarrassment flooded over him once again. In the panic of seeing the Doctor so hurt, he had entirely forgotten why he had been waiting with such nervousness. “Maybe we can talk.”

“We can talk now,” the Doctor protested.

“You’re in no fit state,” Jamie insisted. “An’ neither am I, tae be honest with ye.”

“I love you too.”

“An’ I don’t think – what?”

“I love you too.” The Doctor had pulled him to a halt, holding him still to meet his eyes.

Surely he couldn’t mean it, Jamie thought. Not like that. It couldn’t be so simple. “You’re a wee bit confused,” he said faintly. “Pluggin’ yourself intae that thing, it – it just mixed ye up a bit, that’s all – ye don’t mean it, not how I mean it -”

The Doctor laughed incredulously. “I can assure you, I’ve never been clearer about anything. And I most certainly do mean it how you did. That is, unless -” He twisted himself from side to side, pulling at his hands. “That is, unless you don’t mean it how I mean it.”

For all his disbelief, a smile was spreading uncontrollably across Jamie’s face. “Ye really, really mean it?”

“I really, really, do.” The Doctor was beaming too now. “Oh, Jamie...” He raised one hand, cupping Jamie’s cheek, and Jamie leant into it, closing his eyes. “Never do that again. Seven days was too long to wait to say it back.”

Despite himself, Jamie laughed too. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Now he had started laughing, he found he could not stop. Something giddy had taken root in his chest, and he knew it would take more strength than he had to uproot it. What was more, he found that he did not want to. The Doctor loved him. And he loved the Doctor, too. “Seven days was a long time tae wait to find out if you’d say it back.”

“Of course I would.” The Doctor bit his lip. “You are quite sure, aren’t you, that you – ah – that you mean it – like that?”

The idea of saying it aloud – yes, I’m in love with you, I have been for ages now – was just a little too much, Jamie thought. His heart surely couldn’t take much more, what wih the waiting and the worrying about the Doctor and now the absolute elation that filled him up to press against his ribs. Instead he leant in and kissed the Doctor, clumsy and tentative, nose bumping against the bandage that covered the graze on his cheek. The Doctor’s hand moved from his own cheek to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, and when he pulled away he kept them close, foreheads pressed together.

“I think I meant it like that,” he said quietly, and the Doctor broke into a laughter that was almost as hysterical as Jamie felt, clutching at his side and wheezing in between coughs and splutters.

“You’re going to do me an injury, Jamie McCrimmon,” was all he said, still laughing.

“I hope not.” Taking hold of him again, Jamie set off towards the door. “But it’s a good thing you’ve got me tae patch ye up again.”

#second doctor #two/jamie #fanfic archive #my writing #sketchtober 2020