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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

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HASO, “Perfect Timing.”

Alright everyone. I am beginning to realize that maybe expecting myself to write a story every week day with a job and trying to get into grad school and writing a second novel might be a bit..... excessive?

So I am going to try for three times a week. I hope you all stick around :)

And I hope you enjoy today’s story as well.

Adam stood with his hands behind his back, feet spread to shoulder width. He would never have noticed by himself, but the men and women around him stood a little straighter and stepped a little faster under his watchful eye. Once upon a time they might have only hastened their work if he directly asked them too, but just his mere presence these days could send his crew scurrying to do their work. He hadn’t really changed anything about the way he commanded his men. He was firm when he needed to be but allowed for brevity when it would suit the situation.

However, a few years and some tough lessons was slowly shaping him into the kind of man who could command thousands, sharp posture, calm confidence, and a keen eye.

But then again anyone who could appear professional while wearing high top heelies was a man to be reckoned with.

Sunny walked up next to him her pearlescent white armor glowing under the light as she leaned on the shade of her matching spear. Her head was held high like his. Where once she had been locked up, and defensive, she now stood with the calm confidence of someone who understood what control meant.

Together they had come a long way.

She tilted her head, “You really think he’s going to let you race this…. It’s a million dollar piece of military hardware, they don’t stand a chance.”

Adam didn’t move, hands still clasped behind his back as he stared up at the F-90 Darkfire he was preparing for the race, “I wouldn’t be so sure…. I’ll be lucky to come in last place.”

Sunny frowned confused, “I saw those shuttles, they were junk shows.”

He lifted his head as the F-90 was rolled across the deck.

“This is a race, it isn’t combat. She was built for dogfights which means she is going to be heavier than the others. Wing tip to wing tip she is also going to be a little longer than the other shuttles and jets making maneuvering around obstacles more difficult. Sure she likely has a more powerful engine, but that can be as much of a detriment as it is a leg up.” He gestured in the vague direction of the race course, “We are going to be racing through the planet’s smaller rocky ring. It has an unusual amount of larger, thick chunks which we are going to have to manuver around: the kind of conditions you might see in science fiction movies when they talk about an asteroid field. Asteroid fields are generally too far apart to cause any real issue, but here the rocks are dense, and my flying is going to have to be on pont, having a more powerful engine is going to make her more touchy, and my fitness on the controls is going to have to be absolute.”

Sunny tilted her head listening as he continued. She liked it when this side of him came out. There was something about the analytical, logical side of Adam she found….. Very appealing.

He walked forward to examine the jet himself, “Furthermore, I don’t know if you noticed, but there were a few jets there that weren’t exactly junk shows. A few of them were pretty top of the line, and most of them were built for racing. Lighter, sleeker, faster, and with more engine control than mine.

A lot of my maneuverability is lost out of the atmosphere. This isn’t about how well you can manipulate wind currents, this is going to be all about the very minute rotation of the rear and and wing engines. Their wings are smaller and closer in meaning they are going to rotate more easily than me.

She walked up with him and put a hand on his shoulder, “You forgot to fact in one thing.”

He frowned and looked up, “Oh, what did I miss.”

She smiled slightly, “The skill of the pilot, and I know for a fact that we have the best pilot this side of Andromeda. You can have the best plane in the world, but if you have a shit pilot, then a good pilot in a flying trash can has a chance of winning.”

He Smiled, “Thanks, I needed that.”

He stepped back, “Still it doesn't pay to be too cocky. I have a feeling these people have raced this before, they are going to know what they are dealing with, and I am going tinto this completely blind. This is a test to see if my instincts are better than their practice…. Who knows it could be a very close run thing.”

He moved forward to do an extra check on the outside of the ship despite having a whole team of people to do it for him. Adam had learned to delegate a lot of his responsibilities onto others to avoid burnout, but this was one thing he never left to other people. He came back after a thorough check of the ship and stopped next to her.

His head was tilted to one side as he looked at the machine sitting before him.

“It is missing something.”

Sunny turned her head to look at him, “What?”

He smiled, “Do we have anyone here who has experience with graffiti?”

***

Donavan Red met him when he entered the hanger, wearing his flight suit and holding his helmet under one arm. He had gone for some of his more simple equipment. Didn’t want to give the guy an excuse to blame his skill on technology.

Red looked him over.

“Nice suit, princess.”

Adam just smiled thinly looking around at the other pilots, “I see I might be under-dressed.”

To be far though, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would have described the dress code, if he had to put it on an invitation.

The most apt description seemed to have been.

Dress for Pissing contest.

The men and women wore their uniforms in the same way NASCAR drivers might, covered in logos and patterns. Some of them were clearly custom ordered with personal designs on the backs or the helmets, some sporting flames, others cartoon animals, one guy was just covered in black and white skulls.

The affect up close was ok, but from a distance he just looked like an over excited dalmatian, or maybe some kind of flamboyant cow.

A few of them went for color themes, neon red on black. Neon green on blue.

Most of them tried to coordinate with the matching colors on their ship, each trying to outdo the next.

Red smirked.

The docking bay light began to blink red as the airlock was engaged, and the all turned to watch as the doors opened, and Adam’s jet rolled into the docking bay. She was simultaneously both very impressive and very not impressive. She was an instrument of war, and he rockets lined up on either side of her wings said as much. Adam had once considered her rather sleek in comparison to other jets of the day, but looking at her now in comparison with the racing planes and he couldn’t help but compare her to a pitbull or a bulldog next to greyhounds or whippets.

She rolled up slowly and Red raised an eyebrow.

“A whose guy huh?”

Adam smirked, “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”

They both looked up as the F-90 stopped in place, and along her side in delicate blue cursive script was the name Cinderella. The man who had done the graffiti had even taken the time to add some stylized pink roses to the front and end of the word giving it a finished look.

Donavan seemed both amused and annoyed at the same time.

The men and women around him turned to look over ridicule dying on their lips as they saw the smirk on his face.

It was made pretty clear.

He was going to beat them, and when he beat them, he was going to have a princess logo on the side of his jet, never mind all of their cool paint jobs.

Donavan frowned but then turned to everyone, “Alright load up!.” Adam did as ordered, switching seats with the young pilot in the cockpit and strapping himself in. he adjusted his controls, did a quick once over, and then pulled some power from his engine. There was going to be an overwhelming desire to go fast, but he knew that speed wasn’t going to win him this race.

The jets began lining up next to each other, and to his surprise, one of the sleek racing models sidled up next to him, and when he looked over, he saw Donovan Red cambering into the cockpit.

That didn’t exactly bode well, but what was there to do about it.

He felt cool oxygen spilling onto his mouth and nose as the orange tinted visor dropped down over his eyes. He opted not to use the heads up display preferring to see everything around him as he was flying.

They were all in a line now, and up ahead a large projection appeared on the docking bay doors.

Red lights began to blink as the docking bay was cleared of everyone except for the jets.

The image of a woman appeared on the screen before them.

It was one of the women he had seen before in her cut off jean shorts and tight tank top.

“Ladies and gentlemen start - your - ENGINES!”

All around him the room was filled with a roar as the group of people pushed their engines to an idle.

He could feel the jet underneath him as it thrummed and whined vibrating into his gloves and down into his skin.

His very bones could feel the trembling.

“The course is simple, one lap around the rocky interior ring of the planet. Rules are only this, no leaving the ring, no weapons, and no teams, every man for himself. If the race moderators see any of this, you will be thrown from the race.”

She smiled and leaned back to reveal two green flags in either hand.

She began to wave them.

“On your mark!”

He took a deep calming breath forcing his hand to relax.

“Get set.”

He felt his heart beating hard against his ribcage, his stomach crawled up into his throat, and he felt the sudden and overwhelming need to pee.

“GO!”

THe airlock doors shot open faster than they should have been able, a clear sign someone had bypassed safety protocols. Caught off guard by this, Adam shot out of the gate slower than he would have liked. Already the racing jets streaked ahead, their quicker sleeker designs looking right at home against the blackness of space.

He had to remind himself that in space, without wind resistance, sleek didn’t mean shit.

If he was good enough he could have piloted a brick to win.

He gave more joice to the engine and shot forward. He cut under one of his other opponents and then cythed up next to a second.

He was there for only a moment when he saw something coming in from his right.

Instincts had him move fast, and he turned horizontal shooting upwards just as another jet tried to push him out. He was flying over the two of them now, and gave another burst shooting forward and past them.

This open stretch was the only time he was going to be able to use the power of his engine to his advantage, so he gave her a little more juice and shot forward catching up quickly with the racing models at the front. Two of them cut sideways attempting to block his path. He cursed, forced to fire his engines backwards so as not to go crashing into them.

The ring was approaching quickly now, and he could see very clearly that they had not been kidding. The belt was dense, less mate out of fine sand, and instead made up of billions of rocks some the size of him, others the size of cars, and even some the size of large houses. It was the strangest sort of formation he had ever seen around a planet, and he wondered idly how they stayed in orbit.

The two jets ahead of him cut right and then left as a rock came barreling towards him.

He shouted and rolled to the side barely avoiding a head on collision, his instincts saving him where his active brain could not.

He snarled.

“Pull it together.”

There was no time to be thinking, there was only time for flying.

WIth a practiced hand he toggled a switch on the side of his thumb, and his helmet was suddenly filled with the sound of music and drums. His brain focused inward and stopped thinking. He shot over and then under rolling between rocks just inches away on either side. Off to his right the planet below was glowing with the light of it’s star, a lightning blue halo around it where the atmosphere glowed.

He cut the left dove down and then rolled up.

He could see the other jets ahead of him cutting in and out through the rocks. His breathing grew even, his body relaxed, his brain heard nothing but the beat of the music and saw nothing but the obstacles ahead of him.

One of the jets pulled up next to him from behind recklessly rolling around one of the rocks. They were racing wing tip to wing tip now.

They cut right and left under and over he rolled left they rolled right. They were shaky just hanging on, but his flying was smooth.

Up ahead one of the other jets lit up with glowing orange as a set of flares broke from it’s back end shatting against the debris behind it. Rocks were thrown off their normal course and went smashing into each other turning the rock field ahead of them into a meat grinder. Adam shot forward and dived downward while rolling tight, behind him the racer was unable to replicate the move and a piece of rock caught their wing sending them spinning off to the side and out of the ring.

Adam dodged a piece of debris coming in from his left, flipped upside down and shot diving upward and then righting himself just under the jet up front.

He could see the leader now, and recognized it as Red himself .

The jet above him attempted to drop down and knock him out of position, but he gave a burst to the engine and shot forward.

The jet behind him punched downward and nearly collided into a rock before pulling back into the palace.

Adam took their place in second.

Red could see him coming.

Another set of flares was released.

He checked his forward momentum and rolled three or four times to his right. G forces tugged at his consciousness forcing blackness to the edge of his vision. He tightened the muscles of his chest and stomach forcing blood back up into his head as he breathed out in short controlled bursts.

A rock flew overhead, he cut low, bumped up and then executed a rolling turn over a massive rock pulling in behind red and just up to the right to avoid another burst of flares.

The two of them were fighting for the front now.

And red was good, he knew how to handle a jet, but so did Adam.

They roared past a field of rocks splitting apart as a massive chunk came between them. Adam roared forward, and panicked for a single moment as he saw an impenetrable wall of rock appear just before him. Then a crack appeared. He fired the forward engine and cut horizontal passing through an opening that left him only feet to spare. Rock rose up to meet him, and he rotated his engine up dropping vertically before cutting sideways and passing under a rock. Teeth gritted, he punched upward passing through a gap just as it closed behind him.

A yell of exertain escaped his lips as he pulled straight up cutting up the side of a massive mansion-sized rock before diving right back down into the thick of it.

Red was gone, he didn’t see him anymore.

Was he up front?

And then the sleek black jet dropped down from above cutting him off.

He cursed and swerved low past another rock forced to cut diagonal back into line.

He pulled up wing to wing with the men again.

They dove, they pulled up and they took a wide turn ac coordinated together as a military formation never more than four feet apart.

They were going faster than they probably should have reacted. second by second he rolled left Red went right. They both met in a dive rolling past each other, wings almost touching before cutting upwards mirroring each other in opposite directions. The sound of the music melded with the path of his flight.

They were racing side by side just as one of the other jets roared over them careening out of control in a desperate attempt t o reach front. They watched him dive pull up cut left, and then a rock rolled right into their path. The two of them barely had time to react as the rock hit their right wing and then sent them slamming into the next boulder. There was an eruption and a brief ball of fire as oxygen was consumed from inside the cockpit. Debris blossomed up around them in a miniature explosion.

Adam greeted his teeth, eyes wide .

What was once a race suddenly turned into a battlezone. He and Red dove together rolling around the debris desperately trying to avoid getting cut in two. At these speeds, one hit would be the death of them. His heart raced in his chest as he pulled forward cutting in the triangle made by three boulders side by side. Red mirrored him below.

A chunk of metal shot towards him, and he toggled his right wing burst just in time, lowering his left side just in time for the chunk to go flying past him. He pulled up with a gasp as a massive chunk of rock cut up before him. Red shot below and he rolled over the top coming into second place.

Up ahead a mining barge ascended through the line of rocks.

Adam roared with exertion as he pulled up and leveled out shooting right under the attached arm of the barge. Red lights erupted over it’s hull in a proximity warning as he went just inches overhead.

The barge driver, clearly spooked twisted to the side and the arm of the barge rolled with it, catching a boulder and sending it flying towards the grouping next to it, there was a sudden explosion of rock and again he was forced to roll to the side. Up down, over and under, cything between lines of rock.

He was almost hit once, then twice.

He toggled the forward engines, slowing himself down and then shooting straight up before continuing forward.

The rocks around him were rolling unpredictably colliding and then exploding into smaller pieces. There was no way he was making it through that alive.

He was rolling diving spinning twisting, and then, he felt it…. Something he had only felt on occasion. The world around him went silent, everything seemed to slow, and he was filled with…. With a feeling. It was like light, bursting out from his chest, rolling up through his skin and into his head.

He entered a moment of perfect execution. He cut into a tight roll his wings cything through the minute gaps between debris with timing so perfect it shouldn't have been humanly possible. Rocks passed by him at hundreds of miles an hour inches away from the glass of his canopy, one wrong move and he’d be dead. He cut through a gap that gave him inches on either side rolld right dove down, turned left, spun once and then twice, and made a completely vertical ascent. Rocks flew past him on his right and on his left.

Up ahead he could see a gap slowly closing before him. He opened up his engine and shot forward so fast everything was a blur.

The rocks collided behind him as they snapped shut, and he flew into the clear firing forward to slow himself, and then red was there too descending from above spinning and wobbling, almost out of control and careening directly towards a house sized boulder.

He panicked firing up and down at the same time and sending him into a spin.

He was heading directly towards the rock .

WIthout thinking Adam locked onto the rock, and fired. A rocket under his wing detached and shot forward exploding violently just in time for Red to pass through unharmed. Red jolted awkwardly and rolled to one side. Adam cut past under from right to left and rolled straight over red to avoid a rock.

There was a moment where the two of them were staring at each other through the clear canopy.

Eyes met for an instant, and Adam could see the wide eyed fear on the man’s face., Then Adam rolled ahead ducking under the last rock and then bursting out into space.

He let the F-90 have her moment, and completely opened the engine shooting forward and cutting through the finish line which flashed bright green. In that moment He was hit with such a sense of exhilaration and joy that he couldn't imagine anything better. Who needed drugs, who needed love, who needed any of that when you could fly.

Hed did a triumphant loop whooping the whole way.

Of course, a feeling like that can never last long and slowly began to fade away. THe reality of what he had just done was both terrifying and amazing to the point he felt his body begging to shake. The tension and fear he had been holding back exploded inside him just like that joy and he found his hands trembling on the joystick.

He let it overtake him. He had been like this since he was young and fighting it would only make things worse. Despite his shaking hands he flew back to the docking bay and landed his jet with the precision of a surgeon. Finally when the engine was off and the flood stable underneath him he slumped back in his seat shaking and racked with rolling tremors. He closed his eyes and breathed long and slow.

Behind him the others came limping in.

None of them were completely unscathed, at least one person was dead. His hands continued to shake as the airlock doors shut, and as soon as the room was pressurized, he opened the cockpit. As soon as it did, Sunny came running into the room and up the ladder. SHeleft her spear on the floor and helped him to climb out. His legs were shaking and he almost fell if it weren’t for her support.

She knew him too well, sitting him down on the lowest step and kneeling next to him.

“Are you ok?”

He grinned at her, “That was…. Holy shit.”

He held up his hand to watch the shaking, “I’m having an earthquake.”

It was just then that Red jumped out of his jet onto the floor. He staggered when he did but pushed away the men who tried to help, “What the ever loving FUCK just happened. The field had NEVER been like that. Jaz DIED out there, what the FUCK.”

The people milled around in confusion.

Red turned to him, eyes narrowing as he stalked over. Adam sighed and looked up as the man stopped to stand over him

“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”

The man paused confused, “What?”

“I broke the rules. Means I forfeit.”

Red looked almost nonplussed, “What are you on about?”

Adam slowly took to his feet taking a few more deep wreaths to steady himself before drawing to his full height. He was stead now and looked down at Red with an unwavering gaze. He held out a hand, “I used weapons during the race, that was against the rules. These weren’t flares to move the rocks. I used a targeted missile during the race and that means I broke the rules.”

Red stared at him.

Then he snorted, “Damn the rules. You saved my ass.” he turned to look at his people, “I am more than man enough to acknowledge that.” HE turned back to Adam, “You saved my life you crazy bastard. I am not even sure how you are still alive ….. Because that flying…. That was….. Holy fuck.” He grinned and took Adam by the shoulder, “you shaking, man.” He held up his hand to show a tremor, “Me too, now let's go get some drinks and talk this out. I owe you after all.”

The two of them walked off through the forest of shaken pilots, “You are the kind of man I can see myself doing business with.”

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lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos · 3 years

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lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo

Under The Weather : Part Two family dinner with Nestor and Marcus and some more fluff and cuddling of Miguel by reader

Miguel Galindo and Ava., Nestor Oceteva and Marcus Alvarez

A few hours later , you had just turned down the heat on your soup to a low simmer and had gotten your cornbread out of the oven when your heard Nestors pitbull Blue bark happily. Then you knew they were home so you started to set the table for dinner. Miguel came into the kitchen with a yawn and his hair looking rumpled. “ Time for dinner.” He stretched a little slowly. “ It smells like heaven in here babe thank you for this.”

You touched his face gently. “ Did you have a good nap?”

“ Yes I don’t feel as worn out now.”

Then Marcus and Nestor came into the kitchen and washed up their hands.

“ Were you being lazy today Mikey?” Nestor asked with a raised eyebrow.

“. I have the beginning of a cold.”

“ You boys get to have some chicken tortilla soup and cornbread tonight.” “ But my king gets his bowl first.” You placed some soup at Miguel’s place and some pieces of cornbread near it with some water for him. Sometimes he had beer with this but not after cold medicine earlier.

�� So that’s what smelled amazing when we came in the back door, thank you reina.” Marcus said when he was served.

“ This is the best comfort food.” Nestor commented and then you all ate.

One of your hands had a spoon in it while you ate your soup and the other rested near Miguel’s free one. He liked you close when he didn’t feel well even if he didn’t say it.. Miguel sniffed a little as the jalapeños in his soup opens his head. He reached for his napkin and wiped his nose for a moment.

“ Things at the border are calm. Shouldn’t have to do anything there until the first of the year now.”

Miguel nodded. “ Good then you two can take some time off. I don’t want either of you to get this cold from me,”

You looked at him for a moment in surprise. You weren’t used to him taking time for just the two of you in the house.

“ All right .” Both of them said with offers of being a call away if anything was needed.

You ate dinner together and then did the dishes. Then things were packed by Marcus and Nestor for their time off. Nestors dog stayed here on the grounds with a female pitbull of Miguel’s that you were trying to breed him with to sell puppies. So far Lola wasn’t pregnant but then you had only tried once.

After a short time the house was quiet again and when the dishes were cleaned up you and Miguel went back into the living room. He sat back down on the couch and wrapped an arm around you. “ There we are.” He had lit a fire in the gas fireplace and the two of you sat there for a while just taking it in.

Miguel’s head rested on one of your shoulders and you ran your fingers through his hair gently. He exhaled softly and then reached for a tissue to blow his nose. “ I feel shitty darling,” You held him for a moment. “ I know daddy.” You placed the blanket over his lower body and then rested the pillow on your lap with his head on it gently. “ You’re so good to me .”

“ I love you , don’t forget that .” He yawned a little and his face got red for a moment.

“ Do you want to make it an early night ?” You asked him softly.

“ Would you mind ? I just feel like I need to get some solid sleep if I can.”

You kissed his cheek. “ Not at all, I’ll turn the fireplace off and then we can go to bed.. Are you getting a shower tonight?”

“ No maybe I’m the morning.”

“ All right I’ll get you an extra blanket. I know sometimes you feel chilled when you’re fighting a cold.”

“ Thank you.”

Then the fireplace was turned off and you both headed to your room together. You stopped at the closet where you kept your bedding linens and got a warm blanket for Miguel’s side that was a deep blue color. “ There we are.” Then after you both were in the bedroom you pulled down the blankets on the bed and placed one where Miguel slept. He pulled off he shirt he had worn during most of the day to show his black tank top underneath. Then you undressed and picked out one of your pajama tops in pewter gray. You turned out the bedroom light and got into your side of the bed with Miguel moving you where he liked you in his arms. “ Good night sweetheart,”. He said with his voice sounding a notch lower.

“. Sleep well mi rey. Hopefully you’ll feel much better tommorrow.” Then the two of you drifted off ,

#miguel galindo #mayans mc

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

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Blue Eyes Part 21

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 21: Lies at Margate lead to Ella’s breaking point.

Alfie came upon the stash quite by accident. It had been two weeks at Margate and things were going better than he could’ve imagined. Ella was slowly returning to the woman he fell in love with. Her bubbly nature coming back to life after shriveling up in a hospital room for so long. She didn’t speak much about her lost children but Alfie figured that one day they would come to terms with the loss in a healthier way. At that moment, he wanted to focus on her health.

Ella was out on her daily morning walk with Cyril, strolling along the frigid ocean. Alfie had stayed behind because the brisk air was doing a number on his hip. Instead, he remained inside with Anthea who was more content to play indoors.

As he flicked through paperwork, he kicked a ball back and forth for Anthea’s amusement. The growing pitbull bouncing to and fro trying to catch the ball, skittering across the wood floors of the cottage.

Eventually, the ball became wedged under the sofa. Anthea whined and scratched at the cushions, much too large to fit under the narrow space.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get it,” Alfie grunted as he stood and went over to the couch. “Where’d it go then?” He knelt down and tried to spot the ball. “All the way back there? Fucking hell…” He grumbled and practically had to lay down so he could reach under the couch. He groped around the dusty space until he came across something. It didn’t feel like the rubber ball that was slobbery and had chew marks. Instead, it felt like a piece of cloth.

Curious, Alfie fished out the mystery item and brought it into the light. It was a large kerchief that was tied up. As he maneuvered the cloth, a clinking sound came from within. It didn’t look at all familiar to him so he untied it and opened it up. As he did, a vial tumbled out and fell to the ground. Luckily, it didn’t break but simply rolled to a stop.

A sickening feeling gripped Alfie as he saw the entire kerchief was full of the bottles all with a various amount of liquid inside. He searched through a few of them and found that they all bore the same hospital label with dates from when Ella was in recovery.

It didn’t take Alfie long to crack the case. His wife had been hoarding doses of morphine when she was in the hospital, most likely because once she was at Arrow House she had no access to the vials.

Suddenly enraged that he’d been played a fool, Alfie bundled up the kerchief and stormed outside. Gripping the makeshift sack tightly, he traveled down the dunes to the shoreline.

~~~~~~~~

Ella was just returning from down the beach, Cyril already wet from romping about in the cold waves. The bullmastiff galloped toward him, his tail wagging.

His wife smiled when she saw him coming. “Is your hip feeling a bit better?” She asked once they were close enough to hear each other over the crashing waves.

Alfie tossed the vials onto the sand between them. “What the fuck is that?” He demanded.

Ella’s face lost all its color. She swallowed and shook her head. “I-I didn’t…”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ella!” He jabbed a finger at her. “You tell me that you’ve been hiding this from me the entire time I was trying to take care of you.” He accused.

“I couldn’t do it, Alfie!” She cried. “I was too sick an-and I wasn’t properly taken off of it.” Tears stung her eyes. “I felt like I was dying!”

“Unbelievable.” Alfie ran a hand over his mouth in disbelief and turned away from her to pace a few steps. “Fucking unbelievable. I trusted you and this is how you thank me.”

“Well, fine. You can’t trust me. I’m a fucking Shelby, isn’t that right?” Ella held her arms out wide. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”

“No. No.” He turned around. “None of that. I’m sick of that. The names and all that shit. You’re my fucking wife, that’s what you are. I promised I wouldn’t lie to you and you did the same.”

“I wasn’t taking it.” Ella crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at him.

“Good, then you won’t be bothered if I toss this nonsense in the sea.” Alfie stooped down to gather the vials up in the cloth.

His wife twitched violently and she lurched forward. “Don’t you fucking dare.” She snarled.

“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” He retorted and held the stash away from her. “You look me in the eyes and you tell me that you weren’t fucking touching any of it.”

She was silent and didn’t move an inch. Instead, she looked out over the ocean and did her best to ignore the internal itching. The itch that demanded she do whatever it took to get those little bottles back. But she refused to go through another withdrawal. Not when she felt like she was mere inches away from death. Not when she woke up in a cold sweat seeing the blue eyes of her children. No. If it killed her then so be it.

Alfie hardly had enough time to react to Ella pulling out a gun. She pointed it right to her temple, her finger resting on the trigger.

Her husband’s eyes widened. “Ella…”

“I’ve had it!” She shouted across the beach at him. “This is how it goes! I’m a Shelby and we’re cursed!”

“Ella, put the gun down.”

“No!” She sobbed, her hand shaking violently. “No-no I’ve had it. I wanted them, Alfie. I wanted them because they were mine! They were supposed to be mine. They were supposed to be born here.”

Alfie kept his distance just in case a sudden movement caused her to react. “Listen to me…just listen for a moment. Okay? Listen.” He tried to soothe softly; his eye kept on the gun. From how badly her hand was trembling it was only a matter of time before it went off.

“I-I can’t…”

“You can, you can listen for a moment. Please, love, put the gun down and come over to me.” He coaxed as if she were a spooked horse. “Ella, I’m begging you. I know you’re in pain but I ain’t going anywhere. I’m gonna be standing right here. I can’t live without you, love.”

“It hurts.” She wailed but she slowly began to lower the gun away from her head.

“I know, love, I promise it’ll get better.” He held his arms out to her and began to inch towards her. “C’mon, c’mere.”

Finally, Ella set the gun down in the sand and took a few staggering steps towards her husband. Alfie caught her before she fell and sank to the ground with her. He hadn’t noticed he was shaking too until he had her safe in his arms. His heart was pounding so badly it was hard to hear the waves nearby. But he could hear her crying.

Cyril came over and nosed his way between the two, licking at their tears.

“There you are…I’ve gotcha.” Alfie rocked her back and forth. “I won’t let go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ella didn’t watch as Alfie discarded the vials. She was curled up in the sunroom, her entire body trembling. Alfie draped a blanket over her for comfort and shepherded the dogs into the room to keep her company while he called around.

Tommy didn’t answer on the first ring, neither did Ada. Karl answered and said his mum was out running errands. So, Alfie called Polly. In all honesty, he felt stupid for not trying her first. He considered her very wise and level-headed compared to the majority of Ella’s family.

“Have her withdrawals come back?” Ella’s aunt asked after Alfie gave her the gist of what happened that day.

“No, she admitted she took some this morning.” He answered and scratched his beard. “I thought things were looking up…didn’t fucking think I was this clueless.”

“She’s always been good at hiding things. She managed to hide you from her brothers for a good while.” Polly pointed out.

Alfie smiled weakly and shook his head. How simple things were back then. All he had to worry about was Tommy, Arthur, and John trying to kill him. He’d take that any day over Ella suffering. “I’m scared for her. She was so sick withdrawing last time.” “You don’t want to see her like that.” The woman surmised.

It made him feel guilty at the thought. He wasn’t the one suffering through the awful pain of quitting something as addictive as morphine. Shouldn’t he be lucky to be on the other side? But deep down, it made his gut turn thinking about another withdrawal. The last once had put such a strain on their relationship. It tore at him inside and out to see his wife in agony. The uncontrollable shakes, the vomiting, the unyielding sadness. She didn’t deserve any of it. But life wouldn’t give her a break it seemed.

“What do you suggest?” Alfie asked instead of answering Polly.

“Maybe you two need some time apart.” She suggested cautiously. After Alfie and Ella had arrived in Small Heath, Polly got a clear enough of a picture of their relationship. The man was obviously fiercely protective over her and yet absolutely head over heels for her. When she moved, so did he. What happened when a planet was knocked out of its orbit around a star? Was it possible to find its way back?

Alfie gritted his teeth. “I need to be here for her, I promised.”

“Being there for her doesn’t mean you’re glued to her side, Alfie,” Polly replied firmly. “What if giving her some time was your way of supporting her?”

Although the concept sounded terrifying to him, Polly’s sage manner made him consider it. Most likely if Tommy had suggested the same thing, Alfie would either laugh at him or tell him to fuck right off. “Where would she even go?” He asked after mulling over the option.

“I suppose you could ask her.”

“Yeah, I guess I can.” Alfie turned and looked down the hall to the closed door. Could he be making things difficult for her? Would she be able to find clarity on her own for a bit? He knew he would sacrifice the sun and moon for that woman. So, what was a little time apart? Heart-wrenching, that’s what it was. But Alfie knew something had to give.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Traveler therapy. It sounded absolutely ridiculous to Alfie. But the man was hesitant to be away from his wife for the length of time Tommy was talking about.

“The Lees are like family.” The Shelby man explained upon Ella and Alfie’s return from Margate to London. Alfie mentioned Polly’s suggestion of space to his wife. Ella appeared wary and hesitant. The larger part of her wanted to cling desperately to Alfie, afraid she would lose him. But there was something inside of her that grasped onto the words. A solution, perhaps. Her Alfie’s burden lifted for just a brief time. Her focus turned inward. Was that so bad?

“She already knows most of them. One of the girls just lost a baby to pneumonia so she’ll have someone who can understand what she’s going through better than any of us can.”

Alfie pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. “Right, so you talking ‘bout a month or what?”

“It’s up to her. She wants to go.”

“I ain’t…tryna control where she goes or fucking whatever, but how’m I supposed to know she’ll be safe?” He asked. The nerves of being separated from Ella were far greater than he expected. It’d been quite some time since they’d gone more than a few days without seeing one another. He’d gotten accustomed to having her as his constant in life.

“She’ll be perfectly safe,” Tommy assured him. “They know the land better than anyone.”

“Right…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, well, I want her to be happy, yeah, so if that’s what she wants.”

“It’ll be good for her. Mark my words.”

~~~~~~~~~~

So a few days later when things were settled and agreed upon, Alfie traveled with Ella to the outskirts of the city where the Lees were camped. Cassandra Lee, one of the matriarchs, came out to greet them.

“Look how much you have grown, chavi. But all skin and bones! I will make you something to eat.” The older woman kissed Ella’s cheeks and embraced her.

The scent of damp pine and roaring fires sparked something that had long been suppressed in Ella. The wild gypsy girl who loved to be outside as much as she could. The girl who begged to sleep out under the stars and go hunting with her brothers. It was a miracle it had been kept under wraps for so long. When for so long she’d insist she’d always be the princess knight of the forest.

“Come, Isabel has been expecting you.” Cassandra took Ella’s bag.

“Right, well, I’ll be getting a move on then.” Alfie cleared his throat. He had no idea what Cassandra said but took it as his time to leave. “Tommy said you maybe could call sometimes…or write. But I uh…don’t want you to think you hafta. This is ‘bout you, yeah?” He forced a weak smile. “Just know I love you and I hope you ain’t gonna find some gypsy boy who’s a bit more spry than your ol’ husband.”

Ella’s blue eyes brimmed with tears. “You silly man.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve found the love of my life and I intend to return to him.”

Alfie sighed and hugged her back. “Come back to me, El.” He kissed her temple. “You take your time and you come back to me how you like.”

She smiled and pulled him in for a long kiss. “Absence makes the heart fonder.” She whispered softly against his lips.

“Yeah, love. It sure does.” He already missed her.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye @octaviareina @mylovelykelsifer @doubletriplepowerbomb @ramblingbaby

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #alfie solomons #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons imagine #tommy shelby #polly gray #angst #fluff #tom hardy character #tom hardy #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character

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keitheskeleghost · 3 years

Text

About the Muse

💚

Real Name: Kei Silex

Single or Taken: Main Universe; Taken by Lance (@lance-o-lot); all other pairings are considered AUs and separate from each other, and there’s no limit on pairings.

Abilities or Powers: Ectoplasm Manipulation, Ectokinetic Constructs, Intangibility, Invisibility, Levitation/Flight, Positive Emotion Affinity, Semi-Immortality. (See his Bio for more info on his abilities)

Eye Color: Glowing green with black sclera

Hair Color: Green

Family Members: Mother, Father & Brother (All live in Canada); Many relations over in England.

Pets: Do the Noodlebeats count as pets? xD

Something They Don’t Like: Bullies, bigotry, homophobia, transphobia, Spiders.

Hobbies/Activities: Drawing, Going on Road Trips on his motorcycle.

Animal That Represents Them: Wolf

Worst Habits: Self-doubts himself sometimes & lack of self-esteem.

Role Models: Vivi (@bluescarfvivi) & the Mobster MSA Gang (they no longer have a blog)

Sexual Orientation: GAY

Thoughts On Marriage/Kids: Kei has never wanted kids and still doesn’t want any.

Style Preferences: Gothic, Punk, Biker clothing; leather jackets, fingerless gloves (sometimes with studs on the knuckles), studded leather collars/chokers. Also, comfortable casual clothing.

Approach To Friendships: Kei is very friendly, if a bit shy/introverted, but once he’s comfortable, Kei opens up more. He tries very hard to be nice and supportive to whomever he befriends.

Thoughts On Pie: Never was a pie person.

Favorite Drink: Formerly Coffee

Favorite Place To Spend Time At: Lance’s place, and Lake Louise in Alberta.

Swim In The Lake or In The Ocean: Both.

Their Type: Strong(-willed), open-minded, kind, caring, treats people well, accepting, willing to stand up against bullies.

Camping or Indoors: Kei prefers indoors.

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💙

Real Name: Kein (Was formerly Kei)

Single or Taken: Main universe; Single. Has an AU pairing with Butch (@ghastlywrath) and a Forsaken Wrath AU slow-burn pairing with @knight-on-fire

Abilities or Powers: Ectoplasm Manipulation, Ectokinetic Constructs, Intangibility, Invisibility, Levitation/Flight, Negative Emotion Affinity, Semi-Immortality.

Eye Color: Glowing blue with slit pupils and black sclera

Hair Color: Blue

Family Members: Mother, Father & Brother (All live in Canada); Many relations over in England.

Pets: None (he doesn’t consider the Noodlegeists ‘pets’)

Something They Don’t Like: VIVI (@bluescarfvivi), Goody-goodies, Overly Obnoxious people, Positive energy

Hobbies/Activities: Causing chaos and destruction. Pissing Vivi off.

Animal That Represents Them: Snake

Worst Habits: Letting his rage get the better of him.

Role Models: None.

Sexual Orientation: GAY

Thoughts On Marriage/Kids: Ahahahahahahaha, no.

Style Preferences: Punk/Biker style. Leather biker outfits, LOTS of studs and spikes. Studded leather collars/chokers.

Approach To Friendships: Ahahahahahahaha, no.

Thoughts On Pie: Never was a pie fan.

Favorite Drink: Formerly Coffee

Favorite Place To Spend Time At: Doesn’t have one.

Swim In The Lake or In The Ocean: Both.

Their Type: Cunning and sly, sadistic. Shameless.

Camping or Indoors: Both.

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🐺

Real Name: Robert (Mac)Morrison

Single or Taken: Main universe; Single. (Pairings are welcome)

Abilities or Powers: Can willingly change his form between human and that of a large reddish-wolf (he’s a werewolf based on a type of Irish werewolf called Faoladh).

Eye Color: Right eye is Blue, Left eye is Amber.

Hair Color: Red/Ginger

Family Members: Father & Mother (divorced); MANY relatives in both America and Ireland, some in Wales.

Pets: Tomaltach (Tomal), a Blue Nose American Pitbull.

Something They Don’t Like: His father, Bryan MacMorrison. Bigotry. Homophobia. People that hunt wolves. Pitbull haters and those who use pitbulls in dog fighting.

Hobbies/Activities: Road trips across America. Walking through forests in Wolf form.

Animal That Represents Them: Wolf.

Worst Habits: Getting annoyed with anyone that hates pitbulls (scared people he can sort of understand and try to talk to, but those who hate them can go burn in hell), sometimes going long periods without calling his family to let them know he’s okay.

Role Models: His Father’s dad, Grandpa Liam MacMorrison. Robert loves Liam dearly and knows his Grandpa is proud of him.

Sexual Orientation: Gay.

Thoughts On Marriage/Kids: He’s unsure on marriage/kids right now, what with his current lifestyle of constantly traveling around America. But it’s always a potentiality in the future, especially since he loves kids (particularly his kid relatives and they adore him in return).

Style Preferences: Comfortable outdoor and casual clothing, does own and sometimes wear biker leathers since he does drive a motorcycle during the summer months.

Approach To Friendships: Robert is generally friendly and open, especially with anyone who also greets Tomal kindly.

Thoughts On Pie: Robert loves mince pies.

Favorite Drink: Whiskey

Favorite Place To Spend Time At: The Morrison family ranch in Southern Montana.

Swim In The Lake or In The Ocean: Both.

Their Type: Open-minded, kind, caring, treats others well, accepting.

Camping or Indoors: CAMPING. Camping is what Robert does like, 90% of the time.

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🍄

Real Name: *There’s the sound of giggles like bamboo windchimes clinking in the wind.* “We Fae know better than to give our real names~”

Single or Taken: Single

Abilities or Powers: A mix of Fae and Demon magic, but mostly uses their Fae magic

Eye Color: Purple

Hair Color: Gold blonde.

Family Members: Mother (A Fae Queen), Father (Demon Prince), many Fae and Demon relations.

Pets: None.

Something They Don’t Like: Christianity, evil beings, seeing mortals suffer.

Hobbies/Activities: Aiding mortals. Traveling between realms/dimensions/universes.

Animal That Represents Them: Rabbit/Squirrel

Worst Habits: Watching from the sidelines

Role Models: Their mentor growing up.

Sexual Orientation: Asexual/Panromantic

Thoughts On Marriage/Kids: “Mm, no.”

Style Preferences: Light, airy and comfortable clothing. Usually just pants, nothing else.

Approach To Friendships: Gaining a true friendship with a Fae is a difficult feat to accomplish, so few have ever made friends with this ancient Prince. But those who have truly gained his friendship gain a powerful and protective ally.

Thoughts On Pie: “Pie is tasty. I particularly enjoy blueberry~”

Favorite Drink: Spring water

Favorite Place To Spend Time At: Their secret valley home.

Swim In The Lake or In The Ocean: Lake.

Their Type: N/A

Camping or Indoors: Camping.

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

Tagged by: @hells-handbasket, @punsandfuturekingsmen & @lance-o-lot

Tagging: Whoever wants to do it! ‘Cause I think everyone I know has already been tagged anyway xD

#OOC & IC #About The Muse meme #Kei #Kein #Wrath AU #Robert #The Ancient One #((This took way too long to do xD;;; ))#((But hey ya'll learn some new stuff about the Ancient Fae muse!!))

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cass-watson · 3 years

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⋆ ⠀⠀⠀࿐ྃ ▸ ; ⠀ [ crystal reed. human/feeder. 36. Bisexual. cisfemale. ] was that just CASSANDRA WATSON, I saw coming out of THE GYM? the SELF-DEFENSE INSTRUCTOR is best to be described as + INDEPENDENT, but pronouns could also be - RECKLESS and as well as being previously unmarked they can easily be noticed by RUNNING HEADFIRST TOWARDS THE DANGER, LIVING WITHIN HER MEANS, DENIM JACKETS, as well as THE HEAD OF MEDUSA, which has only just appeared. @lovebitestarter

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Infidelity, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of overdose, Mentions of Physical, Verbal, and Emotional Abuse (None of it is explicit or heavily touched upon beyond a sentence or two, but it is still there) [[If anyone cannot read this due to the triggers let me know and I will give you the short version! I don’t want anyone to feel like they have to force themselves to read something that’s potentially triggering.]]

About You

My name is Damian and I live in the cst timezone. I’m twenty-five, currently working from home, and have two dogs of my own. I am open to any kinds of plotting! Currently my discord is not setup so for now the best way to reach me via tumblr messenger. The biggest plot I am looking for is for a vampire who Cass is the personal feeder for! Other than that I enjoy drinking iced tea and knitting while listening to podcasts.

— * ⟢ 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕤 !

full name: Cassandra Ann Watson

species: human

age: thirty-six

date of birth: april 19, 1987

hometown: everett, washington

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bisexual

+ likes: working out, yoga, going for walks with her dog, autumn, cooking, gardening - dislikes: people who get into her business, the ocean, heights, coffee, mustard

positive traits: Independent, Courageous, Protective, Dependable

negative traits: Reckless, Impatient, Impulsive, Possessive

hobbies: Archery, Yoga, Cooking, Gardening, Trying various new foods

fears: The Ocean, Heights, Being Cheated On

Biography

You were born in a town in Washington. To two high school sweethearts who loved each other and they loved you. The apple of their eye. Doting on you, supporting you, you walked with them hand in hand. And when your family grew bigger that just meant more love and attention to go around. You loved your siblings, even if they did not resemble you or your father, your mother told you that meant god wished for your family to be as colorful as a rainbow.

You are a child no longer

Your childhood was a lie. A lie you would not see until you were finally old enough to understand. Your father is an alcoholic and when he’s not out on the job he’s at the bar, you rarely see him sober. Your mother got pregnant in high school and the year you were born was the year she dropped out, to raise you. She reminds you constantly that if it weren’t for you her life would be better. Your siblings, whom you love so dearly do not have the same father as you or each other. Your mother sleeps with other men a lot. Sometimes she’s doesn’t come home. On those nights it’s up to you to take care of the home, of your family. You are more of a parent than your own parents ever will be.

You cannot escape their claws

When you graduated high school it was with honors. You were almost valedictorian. You wanted to be more than your parents were and more than they thought you would be. You get accepted into the college of your dreams on full scholarship. There is nothing that is stopping you from finally achieving your goals. In your first year, only a few months in and you get a phone call. Your father beat up your mother and her current secret lover pretty bad. Both are in the hospital, your father in jail. Your mother begs you to come home. She needs you. You drop everything and move back home. To take care of your family again. Your mother tries to be better, do better now that your father isn’t around but she falls back into old habits. She tells you that with you back home where you belong and your father in jail she can do what she wants. You are left back at square one.

You love so much but who will love you

You are now turning twenty and working at the local diner, trying to make ends meet. Your brother picks up a job after school and your sister watches your two youngest siblings while you’re at work. There is a guy your age at the diner. His name is Derek and he washes the dishes, maybe even cooks if the diner is short staffed. He flirts with you often and you just roll your eyes with a smile. You have no time for dating or flings. But one night you both work late. You both talk as you work and for once you felt seen, all your issues, your baggage is accepted. You feel lighter than you have in years. You decide to go on one date with him. It turns into two that turns into more. You are in love, truly in love and you tell yourself that this is will last. Through the rose colored glasses you don’t see him breaking your heart until it is too late. Another woman is in his bed and you see red. You want to murder him, no you want to hurt him like he hurt you and it takes everything you are to not do it. Instead you break the nearest thing he owns, you slash his tires, you make sure he knows that you will kill him if you see him again.

You don’t let yourself cry

Four years later and you set foot into Everwinter for the first time. You had to get away, you needed a fresh start. You needed to bring yourself happiness for once. And the first couple of years go by fine. Until, almost like deja vu you get another dreaded phone call. Your mother overdose on her pills. She’s in the hospital. She needs you. It is like you are back in college. Like your mother has you like a puppet on strings that she tugs when she thinks you’ve been happy for too long. This time is different. You are not returning home this time. You are not giving up the life you are finally building for yourself. You tell her in no uncertain terms that you will be sending money each month to your brother, he will use it to take care of the family as he sees fit. Your mother will not get direct access to it. Unless she once and for all gets better, does better, actions speak louder than words. When you hang up that phone you feel like a puppet who cut its strings. And you feel good.

You broke the water’s surface and finally draw breath

You spend a year with your feeder buddy before you become an official feeder. The first vampire who employs you is for the most part nice and that’s it. Neither of you try to become friends and that is fine for you. Few years with them then you are employed by a different vampire, your current employer. They’re different. They talk to you before they feed, sometimes even chat afterwards. At first you are guarded however they have a knack for wearing you down. You’re not the biggest fan of your job but the money is nothing to sneeze at and your employer doesn’t care that you send all your earnings back home. You don’t have a use for such luxury. Life is good, you are content.

Your mark appears and the water begins to ripple

———

Other Info

Has a 3 year old blue nose pitbull named Maggie that tends to be at her side at all hours of the day. Cassandra loves her and doesn’t think she would have gotten through the past couple of years without her. (image)

She is bisexual, leans towards men/masculine presenting people.

Is a Self Defense Instructor at a local gym. However due to also being a feeder she just gives verbal instructions while using her coworkers as visual aids.

Speaks English and German fluently. Does have a basic understanding of ASL. Currently learning Spanish.

Does not take cheating well at all. If she is in a relationship with someone or with two others then she expects it to be exclusive. She does not share.

———

Wanted Connections

Cassandra’s Current Vampire Employer: either gender or non-gender. She has been a feeder since turning twenty-six and they would be her current vampire employer, possibly only been feeding from her for at most five years or so. They have a not quite friend but not strictly business relationship. They would know that Cassandra sends all the money she earns to her parent and siblings.

Cassandra’s friends: either new or old friends though she has a difficult time keeping up with her friends and isn’t proud that she sometimes leaves them on read. Has been trying her darndest to do better and do right by her friends, hanging out a lot more.

———

species

Cassandra is a human through and through, she can’t imagine being anything else. Living forever or being stronger does not hold much appeal to her.

The potential that she is bonded to a different species is terrifying. But the idea of her being bonded to anyone is terrifying to her.

Vampires: she feels neutral about vampires as a whole. Her vampire employer isn’t too bad. However she is often warned by other feeders that most rogue vampires, and those of the Malkavian Clan are practically evil incarnate while they consider the Menesis Clan heroes. Cass knows that like humans even vampires are not black and white.

Witches: she does not hold much opinion on witches. To her they seem the closest to humans, if you just think of it from a mortality perspective. Each witch is vastly different from each other so most of her opinions are based on individuals.

———

soulmarks

Cassandra is terrified of being bonded to someone or someones. She does not want it to become another string to control her like her mother did. Or another Derek situation. If she can avoid it she will and is somewhat grateful the mark is in an easy to hide spot.

Getting her mark only recently Cassandra knows, at least assumes the person she’s bound to is a vampire. At least one of them is. She feels pulled in more than one direction.

She does not plan to let her mark disrupt her life. Hopefully. She is trying her best. Cassandra focuses on her two jobs and her dog.

#bio : cassandra watson #lovebites.intro

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streetsavoir-faire · 3 years

Photo

Born Name: Damien Quincy Rodriguez

Age: 22

Birthday: May 26th 1998

Overview:

Mother: Catalina Rodriguez (39 February 19th, 1981)

Father(s): Michael Rodriguez (41 April 24th, 1979) Richard “Einstein” Jones (50), Fagin Jones (47)

Mother’s Occupation: Unemployed, Student

Father’s Occupation: Fast Food worker, mechanic, Odd-jobs in a diverse field. Warehouse work, delivery, MLM’s, production, etc.

Family Finances: Lower Class, Skirting Poverty

Other Close Family: Francis “Frankie” Corbyn (41) - ‘Uncle’, Ignacio Alonso Julio Federico De Tito (24) - Big Brother, Oliver Saluki-Sykes (20) - Little Brother, Rita Saluki-Sykes (29) - Sister,

Pets: Dorothy - Redish/pink betta Fish, Tiny - Tito’s Rottweiler/Pitbull Mix

Home Life During Childhood: Before he was found and taken in by Fagin? Horrible. Dodger suffered abuse from parents who were far too young and immature to have children. They didn’t want a kid, and they made that very clear to Dodger from the very moment they brought him home. He was never shown love or compassion from his mother or father. He was barely taken care of and owned one toy in his five or so years of living with them. He suffered emotional and physical abuse and spent many nights on the streets, unsupervised. Often, he was locked out of his house for ‘misbehavior’. Eventually Dodger just decided to stay out there and spent his nights under a bridge before eventually Fagin took notice of him and eventually gained his trust and brought him home.

After Fagin, his childhood was still a little troubled. Their family was poor, and often struggled to find money for food, luxuries or heat. Even struggling, Dodger much preferred his found family as he got to learn what it was like to have people that loved him. Even with debt collectors, facing abuse from the Sykes’ and occasionally needing to eat small inconsistent meals, or cuddle up together instead of having heat in the house. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like: When Dodger moved in with Fagin he quickly took over the apartment’s storage loft and claimed it as his own. While it was dangerous (there was no barrier to stop anyone from falling back into the living room below) and a little drafty (there was also a nifty hole that gave him access to the roof) - it was home for Dodger. With a mattress tucked up into the corner and the rickety ladder to get up and down (that he himself rarely used), it was perfect for Dodger. Sure - it wasn’t all the spacious or child-friendly but... it was his favorite.

Any Sports or Clubs: Dodger didn’t go to school - and therefore he didn’t participate in any clubs or organized sports. Instead he went with Frankie to his theater group, spent time reading with Einstein & Fagin or scaled buildings and played made up sports with Tito.

Favorite Toy or Game: Dodger’s favorite toy (and something he still cherishes to this day) was a small teddy bear that Fagin got him the first night he came home. It’s over a decade (closer to two) old and is worn beyond relief, but Dodger still keeps it in his bedroom. As a child he carried it everywhere and was incredibly protective of it. It has plenty of tears and stitches that Fagin fixed himself - but Dodger loves it all the same.

Schooling: Again, Dodger didn’t go to school. He left his home before he would have been enrolled and while Fagin and Einstein tried to get him into school, Dodger simply couldn’t handle the hours away from his new family, nor could he deal with how overwhelming the whole concept was. So instead, they all did their part homeschooling himself and Tito over the years. He’s got plenty of street smarts and owes everything else he knows to Fagin, Einstein and Frankie.

Favorite Subject: Reading with Fagin & Einstein. (And reading plays with Frankie since he was so dramatic)

Popular or Loner: Popular (not in school obvs)

Nationality: American

Religion and beliefs: None

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Tyler Posey

Movie/Era Representation: Alone

Complexion: Smooth, olive skinned, freckled

Hair Colour: Naturally Black / Currently Dyed Blue

Eye Colour: Brown

Height: 5′10

Weight: 153.4lbs.

Build: Athletic/Slim

Tattoos: A very large and ever growing collection --> See here

Piercings: 14mm Gauges in ears, nose piercing, snake-bites (re-pierced), eyebrow piercing (re-pierced)

Common Hairstyle: Typically sweptback, sometimes a mess when he wears a hat or beanie, usually tries to keep it semi-long, swept to the side (x is a common look)

Clothing Style: Casual street wear. Ratty jeans, ripped jeans, dirty jeans. T-shirts, muscle tanks, sweatshirts. Backwards hats or beanies. Worn black and white converse. Nothing fancy. You’ll tend to see a red bandana somewhere on his person. Sometimes he wears it around his head, sometimes around his neck, occasionally tucked into a pocket or around his wrist. But it’s always somewhere.

Mannerisms: Likes to drum his fingers or drum on things in general, also a knuckle cracker. Tends to move a lot because he’s high energy.

Usual Expression: Smiley babe

Health

Overall (do they get sick easily)?: Yes. A combination of terrible care to himself and drugs makes Dodger extremely susceptible to getting sick. He’s a perfect picture of what not to do health-wise and it shows.

Physical Ailments: Mildly Anemic,

Disorders: None

Neurological Conditions: None.

Allergies: Latex, mangos, cats,

Grooming Habits: He showers, unlike most #men he is not a 3-in-1 kind of guy, so he knows how to use separate body wash, shampoo and conditioner. He’ll wash his face every morning & every night and brush his hair and shit but he’s not over the top. Shaves if his facial hair gets longer than a mild scruff. Keeps the boys tame.

Sleeping Habits: Inconsistent. Dodger has no real sleep schedule, but he tends to sleep just about anywhere when he needs to. He’s the least picky about how he sleeps and falls asleep easy.

Eating Habits: Uh, he eats. Sometimes. Some days it’s eating for a village, some he skips for a day and is like ‘oh yeah oops.’ It depends. So I’d call this inconsistent as well.

Exercise Habits: He’s always exercising just by association. He walks/runs everywhere and climbs shit and is doing his free running/parkour all over Swynlake.

Emotional Stability: Fair. He tends to stay cool and tries to be the mediator when it comes to trouble. Dodger tends to be the one who keeps it together and stays calm when they’re in a situation. The relief, really. However when he does slip, he can get emotional quickly. Fun-fact: Dodger never yells. He may say things firmly, angrily, etc but he won’t yell.

Body Temperature: Runs warm.

Sociability: A social butterfly.

Addictions: Drugs (weed, alcohol, pills, etc).

Drug Use: Daily, addicted. The hard stuff isn’t daily (weed is... multiple times a day), but more every few days, once a week.

Alcohol Use: Often.

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits: Drugs. Drumming on objects or idly, cracking his knuckles, zoning out mid-conversation, scratching the back of his neck, smoking, manipulating people.

Good Habits: Loyalty, offering his help, extending manners, being kind.

Best Characteristic: Openness.

Worst Characteristic: Pride

Worst Memory: Being beaten within an inch of his life & having to leave his family and home behind and flee the country.

Best Memory: Being officially adopted as Fagin & Einstein’s son.

Proud of: Holding his job at the garage. Getting his gig at Pixie’s. Still being in a relationship (new record).

Embarrassed by: His inability to get his music off the ground, how he’s still in the same place in life when everyone else seems to be getting somewhere or doing things.

Driving Style: Does not drive.

Strong Points: His passion and drive. His ability to bring things and people together.

Temperament: Carefree and easy going.

Attitude: Optimistic & outgoing.

Weakness: Coming off as too confident, cocky.

Fears: Being abandoned/being alone again, his family getting hurt or dying.

Phobias: Being abandoned.

Secrets: An open book. Perhaps the one secret he has is knowing that Roscoe abused Oliver.

Regrets: Going to William Sykes and trying to buy them time to pay back their loan.

Feels Vulnerable When: He’s with his parents.

Pet Peeves: People who brag about their money. Charities, but not charity.

Conflicts: Having money in the family. Having Roscoe married to Rita when he fucking hates him but wants Rita to be happy.

Motivation: Support for Fagin & Einstein/to make them proud.

Short Term Goals and Hopes: To start picking up more gigs and getting music off the ground.

Long Term Goals and Hopes: To be able to fully financially support himself and the fam through his music and that he can quit his real job and do what he loves.

Sexuality: Pansexual

Exercise Routine: Running all around Swynlake like a crazy man.

Day or Night Person: Night - that’s when the action is.

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert

Optimist or Pessimist: Optimist

Likes and Styles:

Music: Punk Rock, Rock, Alternative,

Books: Any book that Fagin & Einstein used to read him

Magazines: Playboy (lol)

Foods: Quesadillas

Drinks: Coke, whiskey, vodka, rum, Gatorade,

Animals: Any are cool

Sports: The made up ones he’d play with Tito, Free running,

Social Issues: Domestic Abuse, Child Abuse, Women’s Rights, Magick Rights,

Favorite Saying: Absotively Posilutely

Color: Red

Clothing: Jeans, T-shirts.

Jewelry: Gauges, lip rings, nose ring, eyebrow stud.

Games: Poker, Rummy, Uno,

Websites: Not a huge internet person (because he didn’t grow up into it like most kids his age). He uses Twitter a lot though. Youtube just to watch things. Used to use the ‘Hub’ quite a bit ;)

TV Shows: Doesn’t really watch TV, but when they could pay for cable, anything ridiculous. He was a fan of the Crocodile Hunter if only because Tito and himself would mimic that show and get into so much trouble.

Movies: Again, he’s not really well versed in movies but.. I’m sure he was into shit he wasn’t supposed to watch when he could get ahold of them. Fight Club, Lethal Weapon, Die Hard, etc.

Greatest Want: To be happy & with his family.

Greatest Need: Affection.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home: Dodger now lives in Benbow (2D) and honestly his biggest complaint is simply being on the second floor. He would much prefer an apartment he has to climb higher to break into (since who uses the door?). However, he doesn’t like the apartment nearly as much as he loved the old rickety apartment they lived in back home. He misses his loft and all the weird things that made it perfect. This apartment isn’t terrible - sure, the door sticks something fierce and it’s a little cramped for five people but... it’s fine. And the neighbors aren’t the worst, it’s just... never felt right. It’s still home, if only because home is determined by the people living there more than the place itself.

Household furnishings: A mish-mash of things. Nothing in the Jones household is a set. It’s all second-hand or used items that they got when they could and when they could afford to. That means everything from the tables and chairs don’t really.. match like they might in a normal household, but none of them really mind. They’re just grateful to have them in the first place.

Favorite Possession: The bear Fagin got him when he first came home.

Most Cherished Possessions: The bear Fagin got him when he first came home (shocker) - though a worn red bandana that he took from Fagin also comes in close second. He’s almost always wearing it somewhere. Also the stuffed Reindeer from his first Christmas. The beat up guitar that the whole gang pulled together to get him.

Neighborhood: Benbow

Town or City Name: Swynlake

Relationship with Family: Great! Dodger is incredibly close with his found family. He would lay his life on the line or do anything for all of them. He’s closest to Fagin, but only because that man gave him everything in life he’s ever needed when no one else would. He loves his family so much though. Even if he annoys the absolute piss out of Frankie & Rita, he couldn’t be happier.

Car: Doesn’t have one

Career: Part-Time Mechanic, Part-Time Musician, Part-Time Con-artist/thief

Dream Career: Musician

Dream Life: Happy & can provide and take care of his family so they don’t have to work so hard anymore.

Love Life: Peri

Talents or Skills: Singing, Guitar, Percussion, Piano - musical talent in mostly all forms, athletic ability/balance, can juggle, sleight of hand, pitch perfect.

Intelligence Level: Street smart, book....slightly smart.

Finances: Poor as fuck

Past Careers: Full time thief, part time street performer, odd jobs,

Past Lovers: ‘Lovers’, none really. The closest he had was a toxic first ‘boyfriend’, Corey but it didn’t last long.

#about #inspo #muse #x; Dodger #tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw drug mention

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morphituu · 5 years

Text

Milagro

Chapter 5: “Loom”

Nothing was recognizable, yet he knew he was standing in his backyard. The surrounding bushes and trees kept changing as if their shadows were evolving, but his focus was on cries he heard that seemed to be moving all around him.

Distant, soft, newborn cries. They quickened his already erratic heart, but turning and trying to scope them out only made his eyes heavier. There was no sun, but looking around felt like he was looking directly at it.

It was louder now, and he spun, realizing he stood barefoot in the grass outside, but it was warm and soft around his feet. The cries were inside his house. All the windows were dark, the whole world was, like a blackout.

His legs were so heavy- like trudging through thigh deep water.

“Callie?” he called, but his voice only carried so far.

The closer he came, the louder the cries were, but they were fading, as if life was draining from the source.

“Callie!?” he hollered desperately, stumbling through the backdoor and squeezing through the hallway, narrower than he remembered.

“Jakoby?”

He was in his room then, and Callie was before him, her back turned and… her knees bowed unnaturally, arms hung at her sides.

“Cal-”

She folded like a piece of paper against the ground, into a pool of blood that was glowing in the dark room, her stomach torn open.

His vision was tunneling, and met a pair of ice blue eyes that stared at him like a wolf in the darkness, stalking its prey. But this wolf held a baby in her hands, no longer crying, just as lifeless as his lover across the floor that still looked up at him with wild eyes.

He couldn’t see it’s face, but the baby bore his color.

He wanted to see it’s face, but when he looked up, Tikka was staring at him with pleading eyes, her fingers digging into the soft underside of his slain child.

“Jakoby?”

The sound he made was nowhere near any comprehensible word, more of a forlorn holler to end what he was seeing as he lurched forward, his arm pulling harshly from under Callie’s head. His peeled eyes jumped frantically, grounding himself, realizing he was in his room, but the world wasn’t as dark, nor were there cries of his…

A nightmare.

This dawned on him, and he leaned forward, head hung in his hands as he struggled to slow his heaving breaths.

“Baby?” Callie rose sleepily, uncaring of the thin sheet of sweat covering him as she reached around his wide shoulders, the other around his waist and a sweet kiss lingering on his shoulder. She couldn’t tell if he was simply settling his breathing or actually stifling cries what with his face hidden like that, but either way, it wouldn’t loosen the hold she had on him.

“You haven’t had one in a while,” softly she recalled, the touch across his back further calming him. When it ran the length of the back of his neck, he finally looked at her, but immediately his vision flickered down to her pregnant belly bared in only a sports bra.

Still there.

“I’m sorry,” he atoned, but a shake of her head tousling her long hair and a few kisses to his cheek silenced any of that.

With a soft tug, she pulled his upper half partly over so his head rested under her chin, her caress across his shoulder blades relaxing every fiber of muscle in his rigid body until he was boneless, and counting the kicks he felt beneath his palm where his hand rested.

“Woke ‘em up, too,” he graveled, curling the crook of his elbow around her belly protectively.

“Gotta put it back to sleep now.” she barely mumbled, the grazes of her hand slowing.

He knew it was pointless, but he still rubbed her stomach gently, even humming the tune of an Opeth song. The fresh sting of angry tears still pricked the back of his eyes, just as the strong hiccup of a whimper fought to crawl up his throat, but he forced them both down, veering all his attention to the small life still kicking inside her.

With Pucca circling a few times behind the bend of his knees and his thoughts muddling, he allowed a few fearful tears to pass onto her. Get it out, then get on with it.

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

It couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes he was awake the night before, but Nick still wandered around yawning repeatedly, bumping into the entrance of the bathroom as he checked on Callie.

“Any better?” he asked, rubbing an eye. She was scrubbing her teeth again, tired eyes meeting his in the mirror. They were red and puffy, her nose a little blushed too.

She spat, and stood straight with a frown. “It hates me today,”

“The hormones do,” he shrugged. She groaned, pulling her hair loose of it’s bun to fashion it into a neater ponytail. She scratched at the growing hair of her undercut, her other fingers flying to press against her lips.

He cringed, waiting… and there she went, kneeling back before the toilet, but her gut had voided anything left the previous 2 times.

“Zofran?” he asked, and she nodded before dry heaving again, tears slipping down her cheeks and spine bowing.

“Text your mom-” another heave from inside the bathroom as he dug through her bag. “We might be a while,” she groaned. He nodded, unable to find the small packet she kept her nausea medicine in. “I can’t eat the food,” she whined, sniffling, and by the sound of it, her face was hung in the toilet. He flipped her purse and angrily shook it, depositing its insides out across the tables surface.

Why does she carry so much shit- ah, there it is!

Nick was already ripping the aluminum square and pressing the tablet into his palm as he retrieved cold water for her, wide stepping his way back to the bathroom.

“It’s gonna make me vomit,” she moaned, shakily.

“Just throw it back,” he reasoned, and Callie looked up at him with swollen eyes, reluctantly raising a palm so he could hand off the pill.

Her eyes pinched shut as soon as the ‘strawberry’ flavored dissolvable pill coated her tongue, and with grabbing fingers she reached for the water, daring only a mouthful.

She shook her head, her mouth flapping. “Shits awful,”

“Always works though,” he grunted, sitting on the tiled floor before her just as Pucca had trotted in to see what all the commotion was about.

Sparse words were passed between them as they waited for the medicine to do its job, and thankfully the vicious nausea rested, and she felt comfortable enough closing the toilet beside her. It seemed she couldn’t go more than a few days at a time without the morning sickness carrying on the entirety of a day, even as far along as she was. Same went for the headaches that sometimes kept her in bed and the needles she felt unsettling her legs when she tried to sleep at night.

“Itchy nipples are the worst of it all,” Callie rasped, clearing her throat.

“Just scratch them,”

“Easier to do when your boobs don’t feel like they’re about to pop when you touch them,” she mumbled, eyeing him with colder of a glare than usual. It was her ‘shut up Nick’ look she’d mastered when he tried weighing in on her pregnancy without any personal experience to back him up.

He gritted his teeth together, his hand pinned under Pucca’s chin. “I like your pregger boobs,”

She tried to narrow her eyes, but a snort forced its way up, then a constricted smile. “Shut up,”

“Your automatic floaties,” he added, flinching when she leaned forward over her stomach to swipe at him. A few failed attempts yielded her efforts to beat him, but still gladly accepted his help after he’d stood and offered his hands to her.

“Still wanna go?” he asked.

“Of course. I need to brush my teeth again though,” she sighed, turning back to the sink. A quick kiss against her hair before he left the bathroom, heading for the kitchen to gather the salsas she’d made for the party. One bowl of salsa verde and an even bigger one of the red, the very kind that made him burn up just looking at it. It’s blood like hue and shimmering oil that pooled around the edges meant it was hot as shit, just how he liked it, even if he’d regret it later on.

“Is this my dads present?” he called, and she giggled, coming into the kitchen as she finished putting in a simple pair of studded earrings.

“No but it should be, huh?” she grinned, her hands twisted to hold against her back once finished.

He’d never say it out loud, but all he wanted to do was cuddle and tell her how big and cute she looked, especially wearing tighter shirts that showed her belly button that had started to pop a little bit. Damn his hands being full- he wanted a photo of her stood like that, a half smile on her ashen face. Her color would return soon- more than 10 minutes without her face in the bowl would do her good.

“Okay,” Nick looped his father's gift on a finger. “Ready?”

“Yep,” she answered, unhooking Pucca’s leash and harness from the wall. “C’mere mamas, ven! Ven!”

The pitbull had already been wiggling uncontrollably as soon as Callie had reached for the harness, and approaching her with it only made her the more squirmy, her tubby little body running circles around Callie’s legs.

“Careful-”

Too late.

With a fast charge from Pucca from behind, Callie went tumbling sideways, bouncing and rolling a little bit once on the carpet.

“PUCCA.” Nick boomed, the salsa almost spilled in his haste to set it on the counter and make it to Callie’s side, but she was laughing lowly.

“I’m okay,” she giggled, completely lifted by Nick’s arms around her. “Nick I’m fine,” she insisted, but he was patting all over her, especially her stomach that hadn’t even bumped anything in her fall from grace. There was still an angry chuff when he spun, enraged, amber eyes searching until he found Pucca laid flat on the ground, cowering beside the TV.

“Dumb brat,” he growled, stomping over to her. She army crawled towards him, chin flat to the ground and big eyes looking up.

A harsh smack made contact against her bottom, and Callie frowned, leaning back into her hands once again.

“No! You know better lat pa-gog beaukav!” he scolded harshly, even though Pucca had rolled onto her back and was ‘smiling’ up at him, her eyes squinted.

“Baby,” He turned, meeting Callie’s knowing look. “I’m fine,”

“You could’ve fallen forward,” he argued, but she patted his back as she passed to Pucca.

“That’s why I have hands to catch myself,”

The dog was much calmer this time around, cowering near Nick once her harness was buckled, but her tail wagged just as wildly when trotting to the front door. A low chuff made her flinch as she moved by him, though. Still, she tugged on the leash Callie wound around her wrist after slipping her Chucks on.

“I swear if she drags you across the ground-” he warned while grabbing the bowls of salsa. Just thinking of that… it made his stomach churn. The after effects of a very vivid nightmare still left him jumpy.

“I got her, I got her.” Callie insisted, leaning back into Pucca’s relentless tugging as soon as the front door opened. A low grumble of disapproval was all she got in return however, but they were off, walking across the lawn towards the truck with Pucca bounding excitedly. She at least could jump into the bed herself when Callie dropped the gate, and once secured, she beelined for Nick.

With his hands full, he couldn’t stop her from slipping her hand down his pocket to grab his keys. For a moment there he almost thought she was grabbing for something else…

Instead, she strolled happily to the drivers side, now having mastered how to hoist herself and her protruding belly up into the high seats without too much difficulty. When she started adjusting his seat and mirrors, it reminded him how useful another car would be, especially when the baby arrived. He couldn’t leave her stranded at home in case anything happened, and… it got kind of obnoxious squeezing into his seat after she’d use the truck. Her legs were just so short, though.

“Don’t you start huffin’ at me,” she grinned, earning another low growl that dragged on as he wiggled his shoulders into the passenger seat stubbornly. “I can drive until my stomach hits the wheel,”

“Even then you’ll be too stubborn to stop,”

“Might just pop it out behind the wheel if you keep bein’ so snippy.” she murmured, turning to back the truck out of the driveway. A quick pinch of her knee made her yelp, and halted her teasing.

Nick would snap his fingers loudly when Pucca started to bark at people who baby talked the pretty pitbull from their cars, more worried about people assuming she was a vicious dog instead of a big chunk of meat that was afraid of flies, but she’d hush when the truck started moving, hanging her head over the side so her mouth inflated with the air rushing past them.

By the time they turned onto the quiet street Nick’s parents lived on, Callie’s nausea had about finished it’s rampage, though she still cautioned herself to not eat much. Vomiting in front of Nick’s extended family would ensure never showing her face around them again.

“It’s not like they’d tease you about it,” he reminded her, but she shrugged.

“It’s still embarrassing to retch in the bathroom with so much family around,” she explained as she turned the last corner, and Pucca started whining excitedly.

Nick’s ears flickered, his lips pursing. “Saying you’re embarrassed to carry my child?”

“Oh shut up,” she chuckled, smacking his thigh. By the time they’d found parking on the street filled with the other cars, Pucca was near fighting her harness in attempts to bolt to the front door, already barking at the pitbull his parents owned.

Callie didn’t even have to hold her leash; she knew where to run to find her sister as soon as the gate was dropped and the leash was unhooked. Off she went, shooting across the yard and scratching at the front door.

Nick made it around the truck just as Callie had wavered a little, blinking away the dizzy spell. An arm around her back steadied her.

“You gotta stop jumping down like that,” he implored, hesitant to release his hold from her.

“Force of habit,” she frowned, back to herself. “I can carry one of those,”

“Oh yeah you take the gift so they’re nicer to you,” he drawled sarcastically, locking the truck twice.

“I wouldn’t need to- they like me more anyways.” she beamed mischievously, hissing when he smacked her ass harshly before they crossed the street.

They pushed and teased one another with secretive words as they walked, stopping their naughty comments when Oleg opened the front door to greet Pucca, then standing straight with open arms for Callie.

“Happy birthday!” Callie smiled, receiving a monstrous hug and even being lifted off her feet a couple inches.

“Thank you, my little bean,” he grinned, always patting her cheek before moving onto hug Nick.

“Mausan lovepak,” Dinara keened lovingly, meeting Callie next for a tight hug and always the same questions: are you hungry, are you tired- how’re you feeling? before she held the sides of her belly, face scrunched in affection. “Nalkren'uk avhe faushnu?”

“It’s good, Ma,” Nick answered, finally finding space to slip through the door.

“Oh your back must be hurting,” Dinara sucked her teeth, pulling Callie gently along. “Ukmall- grab that tea on the counter?” she directed to Nick just as he’d been walking out, only to spin on his heel and go back.

“I can’t drink sweet tea, I’ve been nauseous all morning,” Callie groaned, stopping often as multitudes of Orcs greeted her with hugs or quick kisses on the cheeks, some of them patting her stomach which in turn made her a little anxious.

Had she not had such a miserable morning it would’ve been easier to handle, but the slightest bump or touch made her woozy.

“Nick told me so. It’s Crescent tea, it’ll calm that little one down,” she winked at Callie. “Agh! All of you, stop! Let her find a seat!” she barked at the hovering hands and swiped a few away as Callie chuckled, waddling after Dinara as they made their way to the backyard where there was more seats and less Orcs to bump into.

It was cooler outside compared to the stuffy heat that hovered in the house from all the food cooking in the oven and stove top, relieving some of her discomfort. Pucca was bolting and bounding playfully with her sister Sunu; another Merle pitbull that Nick hadn’t had the heart to leave behind when he’d first picked Pucca from the litter. Good thing his parents wanted a dog, too. Orc toddlers and kids ran circles around the lively dogs with bubble wands while a few teenagers sat around the edge of the yard where they’d dragged over chairs, their eyes mainly glued to their phones. Laughter still floated between them as they shared memes, however.

Now that Callie was sat beside the long table littered with food and a few family members here and there, it was easier to let curious hands rest over her stomach as they eagerly wanted to feel the baby move. Mostly Nick’s aunts and cousins who all shared their advice about Orkish babies.

From techniques to jump start labor, to help with labor recovery, all the way to teething that apparently started much earlier for Orcs than it did for humans, Callie drank it all in, storing the information for later. She knew how to handle human babies, but Orcs? Even halflings? She was out of her depth.

Once the hands had stopped reaching and most of the extended families questions had been answered, it gave Callie the opportunity to answer Dinara’s burning questions about the return visit only a couple days prior.

“I didn’t think it’d be like human pregnancy,” Dinara restated, and Callie nodded in agreement. “So when’s the new due date?”

“Late July,”

Dinara’s hairless brow cocked. “Late July?”

“They still don’t know if the growth rate will be consistent,” Callie explained, and Nick’s mother’s eyes partly rolled in exaggerated humor.

“You’d think they’d be able to at least give you a rough date instead of the later half of an entire month,” she huffed as she stood, patting Callie’s shoulder as she walked back into her house.

Callie nodded indifferently. She has a point.

A few more family members sat at the table with Callie, curiously asking how she’d been doing so far and about everyday life, all of them equally excited and surprised that Nick was finally settling down. He’d been known as the loner of the family for years, not only for his relationship status, but to also be the only one without siblings, so it shocked most of them that he’d ended up with a human, no less.

“It’s because he had no siblings that he chose a human,” a low voice came, pulling Callie and one of his aunts attention away from their conversation.

“Say it louder, Ghorza,” the aunt, Yotul, who Callie had been talking to snapped, her brighter than normal eyes glaring at the chubbier aunt across the table sat beside her bigger husband.

Ghorza’s painted, crooked eyebrows pinched together in discomfort, but she squared her narrow shoulders. “He didn’t learn to stay with his own kind. First joining the humans at the LAPD and now that,” she motioned towards Callie’s stomach.

Though her hard expression was set in stone, Callie’s confidence faltered a little. Her foot started tapping under the table.

Words were passed between the aunts bitterly, but Callie understood little to none of the swift Orkish lashing off their tongues. Her arms crossed, more so over her stomach she now wanted to shield from anyone's gaze.

“What’s going on?” Nick asked, appearing from behind with a couple plates in hand along with the tea. Other family had held him up with conversation up until that point. She hadn’t been aware of the tension in her frame until she exhaled at the sight of her lover, scooting her chair closer to his. All at once, she wanted to hide against his chest, but she had to stand her ground, even if it was silently.

As hard as it could be now, it would only get harder once she had a halfling on her hip. Moms were already judged critically for anything and everything; she had to start developing that thicker skin to withstand the criticisms from both sides.

“Your auntie says you two are wrong for having a baby,” Yotul exclaimed, drawing the attention of a few other family members that had sat at the table. A low murmur of disapproval floated around, all aimed at the aunt who tried to keep her protruding chin lifted confidently.

“Not the first time we’ve heard that,” Callie mumbled. Nick looked at her at first with a grin, but the way her knee was swaying back and forth told him everything. A hand on her thigh brought her attention to him, lessening the intensity of her angry eyes.

“You act like it’ll be some great burden to the family. It will be no different from the other children we all have,” an Uncle of Nick’s piped in, reaching over his shoulder to grab for some of the baked chips before them.

Ghorza scoffed belittlingly. “Crossover children are bred to be mischief,”

“Wow, you sounded human there,” came a more timid voice. Beside Nick was sat his younger cousin, only a teenager, but from what Oleg had told them had always looked up to Nick as a mentor. It was because of Nick that this young boy, Adrik, was pursuing his dream of being a fireman.

Nick chuckled, bumping his arm.

The older Orc that had been beside Ghorza shook his head, his jowls shaking. “You bring disgrace to your family,” he muttered, his gravelly voice unsettling Callie further alongside a cold glare he shot her way.

“He’s done no such thing,” Oleg appeared from the other side of the yard with a plate stacked with grilled fish. “Leave if you’re going to be a sourpuss- it’s my birthday,” he stated dramatically, a hand on his chest in false exasperation and winking at Nick and Callie.

“If everyone can share their opinions than why can’t we? We were your family first,” Ghorza leaned in, eyeing Nick like he was a child being reminded of his lower status. But he wasn’t. He was a grown man, and had been taught by Callie, no less, to let go of whoever wasn’t in his corner.

“Not to my baby you won’t be,” Nick grinned, his clubmasters masking his squinted eyes, patting Callie’s thigh for added point.

Though Callie’s lip barely curled in a small grin, her heart soared. She was so proud of him.

“And don’t you go picking on my daughter-in-law again or we’ll bring up your little altercation with the police, eh?” Oleg smiled, waggling his hairless brows, and effectively ruffling Ghorza and her husbands feathers who in turn chuffed loudly at his brother.

“Ahh, I bet Nick knows all about that!” a different family member pushed in, stirring low laughter across the table as Nick nodded. He did, in fact, know about the forged checks his salty aunt had written in his grandfather's name.

Callie hid her smile behind her mug as the pair stood bitterly and moved into the house, two more cousins taking their spots with plates full of food.

“I’m sorry,” Nick intoned, but she shrugged.

“It’s not like you haven’t dealt with the same thing,” she partly grinned now. “I didn’t think she could dislike me anymore than before,”

“Don’t listen to her, she’s mad she didn’t stay thin like you when she was pregnant,”

This time it was Zaza who’d laughed that, Nick’s cousin who was the same age and who frequented the bank Callie worked at for her own job. Her brilliant patterning always entranced Callie; like a fairy had drawn intricate designs across her face and shoulders that showed beneath the lovely, baby blue blouse she wore.

“And that all her girls can’t stand her,” a longtime family friend said between Nick and Callie, leaning down to hug around Nick’s broad shoulders. He hugged her back awkwardly. “I haven’t seen you since you came into your celebrity status,” Jez teased, but Nick snorted.

“I was never a celebrity,” he corrected, petting Pucca when she came to rest her head in his lap, panting loudly.

“Says the one with the groupies,” someone called from across the table, igniting a small storm of laughter.

“I do not,” he griped.

“You do, actually,” Callie piped in. “I always get girls and guys on Instagram commenting about how they wish they had their own big Orc daddy in uniform for themselves,”

His family exploded with teasing, effectively heating Nick’s ears and setting off a light flush across his cheeks as he attempted to hide behind his drink and nervous chewing. When they insisted on seeing the photos, Callie had mercy and only showed them the mild ones, like the shot of them standing before their bathroom mirror and Callie flexing pitifully with a barely visible baby bump with Nick’s impressive arms flexed beside her, his chest and stomach chiseled with muscle he’d committed some great time to building up.

“Put that away,” Nick tried grabbing for the phone, chuffing in embarrassment as Callie smiled at him with her tongue between her teeth.

“This is also why your auntie is mad- you have a flat belly and Uram’s gut hits her while they fuck.” Ushug, another uncle basically yelled, stirring another round of loud laughter from everyone.

Most of the teasing died down after that, mostly due in part to Callie nearly peeing her pants as she struggled to stifle strong giggles, proving all the more difficult when Nick playfully leaned away so she couldn’t hide behind his shoulder.

Soon after, more food covered the table once Dinara and her brother had finished inside, effectively drawing the last of the scattered family together to eat. Fish and chicken and veggies were piled high, as well as bowl after bowl of hearty sides and snacks, more than enough to feed all Orcs hungrily grabbing for their share and still have some left for seconds and leftovers.

Callie had originally said she wouldn’t eat, but the scents wafting from the fish and roasted potatoes and spiced macaroni was too much to resist, and soon her stomach, and the somersaulting one inside her was demanding a plate that Dinara stacked, even when Nick insisted she not eat the fish.

“Do you think I'd give her something that was bad for her and the baby?” Dinara snapped at her son, glaring down at him coldly, effectively silencing his protests. His mouth was in a straight line, low growls emitting from him until his mother smacked his shoulder.

Callie chewed the grilled Tilapia purposely, smiling at Nick when he glared before pinching above her knee again.

She still asked Nick to fill her plate when she was too bashful to slop seconds onto it, but let him place chicken on the plate instead of fish the second time around.

“I’ll just take some home for later then,” she teased, narrowing his eyes.

Amusing conversation floated between everyone, all of them taking shots at one another in teasing manners or just gossiping, but none of it was ill spirited. Nick’s entire family, including a few humans that made up long time friends and distant relatives he saw only once in a blue moon were close knit, and Callie’s earlier worry that any more of them disliking her based entirely on the fact their Nick had knocked-up a human dwindled further with every kind smile and genuine interest in their soon to be newborn.

A few toddlers and younger ones came up to her curiously, inquisitive eyes trained to her as they inquired about how it felt, how it was happening, and how it had happened. That made Nick almost spit his drink, and in turn earned him a few low teases from the childrens mothers who insisted ‘Uncle Nick’ give them an honest answer. Soft touches over her stomach to feel the little one’s strong kicks fluttered about from their tiny hands, most of them flinching and giggling when there was a particularly energetic bump.

Once the little ones had ran off, Callie tried helping Dinara pick up the scattered plates, cups and napkins, but insisted the expecting mother sit down and get off her feet- everyone did, but Callie waved her hands and still stacked and picked. That was until she moved beside Nick and he turned his chair to pull her into his lap, an arm kept under her bust and hand on her thigh so she couldn’t escape despite a few shoves against his chest.

Both Nick and Dinara glared stubbornly as she did, and it was only because she was outnumbered that she stayed put, Nick’s toned thighs much easier on her butt than the stiff wooden seats that had started aggravating her achy back.

“So when are you gonna tell us what the gender is?” Oleg called from the head of the table, rubbing his hands together with glee.

“When it’s born,” Callie answered, and the table collectively groaned.

“Why wait?” an aunt inquired.

“Yeah why wait?” Nick suddenly said, looking up at her from over his clubmasters as he stuffed a towered chip into his mouth.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Callie pushed against his cheek, interrupting his efforts to consume his mile high stacked chip.

“I’m getting impatient,” he paused to suck salsa off his thumb. “I already know it’s gonna be a girl,”

The table again agreed mutually, noting that Nick and two others were the only boys out of the 20 present.

“Ask Laka! He always knows,” someone announced just as Nick’s quiet uncle from his mother's side had walked by with his plate. Laka was a towering Orc with the muscle mass to match his intimidating demeanor, not the mention the chipped tusk and blind eye that aided his menacing features, but the few times Callie had interacted with him in the past was always pleasant, and the least bit frightening once he started talking.

“Oh just ask what position she was in when it happened,” someone said from afar, stirring more laughter.

“Was it doggy? Girls are always doggy,” Hanra, another cousin with a dazzling smile and golden tusks asked Callie outright, but she was hiding behind her hands, stifling flustered giggles as Nick stuffed more food in his mouth to avoid revealing their secret.

“Nooo just ask Laka! C’mon, tell her- it’s gonna be a girl, isn’t it?” Zaza came up beside Laka, leaning over to watch.

Nick’s uncle stepped beside Callie to look down at her thoughtfully, head tilted as his good eye observed her entire form. A large hand calmly moved into her space, his fingers barely pressing against her stomach for a chaste encounter before withdrawing again.

“It’s a boy,” he said, his deep voice soft, yet confident in his decision.

The table erupted with arguing and shaking heads.

“He’s lost his touch. It’s going to be a girl, ukmall,” Dinara eyed Nick knowingly, sitting down beside her stuffed husband who still accepted a piece of cake happily from her.

Laka patted Callie’s shoulder before moving away to grab more food, and she forced down a wide smile. For months she’d only heard ‘girl this, girl that’, so to finally have someone else in her corner after secretly hoping for a boy… it left her hopeful, even if there was no surefire way to know outside of a doctors office.

“Either way,” Oleg forced out through his full mouth, making Dinara cringe. “You have to pick names,”

“We have a name for a boy picked,” Nick said nonchalantly, despite everyone silencing enough to lean in.

“I swear if you two keep that a surprise too,” Dinara said through clenched jaws, looking at the pair with heated eyes.

Nick looked up at Callie, smirking.

“Leo Makar,” she said, delicately, another stir in her stomach affirming how much she adored the name they’d brought together. There were no disputes this time, but instead a collective hum of approval from everyone.

“And for a girl?”

“I like Veronika,” Nick stated, releasing his hold on Callie when she rose to use the bathroom.

“And Renata!” she called before entering the house, and he nodded in agreeance. Those names were met with a little more resistance, but not enough for Nick to be swayed in the slightest. The conversation finally rotated from them, back to private conversations between Orcs sat beside one another.

Laka came back around, sitting down on Nick’s other side once the chair was abandoned.

“How’d you figure it’s gonna be a boy?” Nick asked curiously, knowing full well his uncle really had never been wrong in his predictions.

At first he shrugged, but then explained, “Girls take more from their mothers than boys. Calista’s color is still good on her.” He solely stated, nodding at his own words before concentrating on his food.

Nick’s eyes slowly pulled away, chewing mindlessly on a piece of root that felt pleasant between his sharp molars. There was no real preference for Nick; he adored the thought of having a little girl on his hip just as much as a rambunctious boy following him around everywhere. His thoughts took him on a small stroll away from the loud chattering around him, to a multitude of scenarios, all displaying the countless possibilities his future awaited with their first child.

↠

Fero couldn’t help but turn over his shoulder every time she did, only to reveal again that no one was following them down the slumbering street. The only thing that would’ve given them away was the way the streetlights flickered above them when they passed, or the ridiculously shifty appearance her long trench coat and hood gave off.

He glanced at her, clearing his throat. “You’re making yourself more obvious,”

Tikka didn’t answer, and instead kept walking briskly across the wet sidewalk.

“MTF-”

“I’m not worried about MTF. I’m worried about Makhel,” she mumbled, again looking over her shoulder.

“I doubt he’ll be walking down a neighborhood like this anytime soon,” he chuckled, fingers running over the tops of cars they passed.

“You say that like he didn’t find and completely destroy the motel we were just in,” she hissed through her sharp teeth, flinching towards him to make him flinch back. “He destroyed everything,”

Fero straightened his jacket. “We didn’t need any of it anyways,”

“We needed cover. We needed to not be in the open like this,”

“We’ll find somewhere else,” he assured, his tone betraying his attempts to comfort her. He wasn’t entirely sure of his own statement, either. There was a short distance of silence between them, listening to the thick heels of her boots against the concrete as they walked briskly. “Rania is with him,”

Tikka’s head shook. A short beat of silence. “I don’t think she went willingly,”

“She’s half Orc-”

“That doesn’t make her any less of a Bright,” Tikka spun, fury whipping like wild flames in her striking eyes. “She’s a damaged girl and he understood that pain. She’s not wrong for staying with him,”

The ire radiating off her locked frame kept him still, nearly pressed against a car they’d stopped beside, and she didn’t budge until he nodded stiffly. He exhaled when she turned to continue down the sidewalk, and kept a safe distance between them with his mouth shut.

Tikka pulled a scorched paystub from her pocket, glancing at a house she paused before. Wrong one. She moved further down the sidewalk, coming to one with a long front yard and bamboo shades rolled up above the porch, lush green plants lining the yarn below the front windows. Another glance at the paper- this was it.

Fero stood close beside her, both of them staring at the dark windows of the home.

“Are you gonna go up?” he asked softly, and her expressionless face turned to him.

“You think I can walk up and just knock on his door?” she mocked, and he fumbled over words before simply exhaling, looking back at the house.

“Are we just going to stand here until he finds us then?” he bit back, ready to stand his ground when she turned on her heel towards him again.

Approaching headlights demanded their attention however, and Fero had pulled Tikka with him to duck behind a car just as the truck pulled into the driveway, a pitbull rising from the bed to trot towards the gate. Tikka looked around Fero’s shoulder as Nick stepped from the truck, stretching back on his heels with a loud groan they could hear from across the yard before closing the door and walking to let the dog from the bed. It ran across the yard, circling near the bushes as the Orc she once spent a dangerous night with walked around the other side.

“Is that him?” Fero whispered, and she nodded.

That’s when she saw her.

They came from around the front, waddling beside Nick as he carried bags, both of them smiling and talking. She was the reason for the carseat Tikka had noticed in his truck; she knew this when she detailed the distended state of her belly, and the way she walked with a hand placed protectively over it.

Nick had grown even more from the man she thought he was.

“He looks different,” she whispered, taking in his puffed chest and raised chin, so proud as he walked beside his nameless lover.

“Shh!” Fero pulled her back more when the pitbull started barking in their direction, stood alertly at the center of the yard.

“Pucca! Ven aqui!” Callie called, continuing onto the front door as Nick stopped to watch her.

But she went on barking rapidly, the fur on her back standing as he approached her. It offset him immensely, but it was too windy to pick up on anything that might’ve been there when he scented the air. His nocturnal vision saw only familiar shapes of cars, his hearing alerting to nothing. Regardless, it spooked him.

“C’mon girl,” he urged, but she only glanced up at him, turning to bark again. “Pucca!”

Stubbornly she backed up, whining before trotting beside Nick, nervously circling around his legs as she snuck in quieter barks at the street. She only silenced after the door closed behind them and could no longer rile herself up.

“Chill, weirdo.” Nick mumbled, moving to the kitchen.

Tikka remained crouched even when Fero stood, looking down at her expectantly. Still, she remained, bright eyes trained on the house now occupied.

“So what’re we doing?” he asked, hands on his slim hips.

“I can’t find Ward without him,” she said softly, reminding herself more than anything.

“So let’s-”

“He has a pregnant wife,” Her tone was matter-of-fact, a little perplexed he didn’t seem to understand the severity of Nick’s situation or his involvement moving forward.

“With a human, no less,” Fero shuddered.

When she rose, he came face to face with a deep fury rumbling in her heart; one that showed no amount of love for him could stop her from whipping out the wand carried preciously against her side and slaughtering him. He wasn’t her lover in that moment. He was someone who had crossed a Bright, and she resembled her sister like no other time than in those seconds that passed like hours.

“When you say things like that, I don’t blame Makhel for what he’s done.”

Tikka didn’t wait for him to respond, nor did she wait for him to follow as she made her way back down the street. For the time being, she didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say. Too many times she’d let his bitter remarks slide, but no more. Her heart couldn’t take much more of it.

A harsh breath expelled from him as he flopped into the couch, stretching pleasantly once he’d kicked off his shoes and pulled his sweatshirt up over his head, leaving him in a black muscle shirt and sweats. The chill lingering in the house sent goosebumps across his skin, but the deep cushions would warm him soon enough. Nick loved his entire family endlessly, but sitting in the silence of his own home was pleasing after such a lively day.

A wide yawn with another stretch later, and he was sure he could sleep in that very spot. The smallest of light was coming in from the kitchen, just enough to let him see Pucca settling into her bed by the hall, circling in the center before hanging half off the plush pillow.

Softly he snorted, gaze moving up to Callie when she sauntered from the bathroom, her tights hung over her arm. Her baseball T was gone too, donning only a maternity camisole and panties that showed more of that ass she’d put on.

Nick squinted past a smirk, twisting to better watch her go about organizing loose mail on their table, pushing in a crooked chair, swaying side to side with a hand against the crook of her spine as she overlooked some of the papers already torn from envelopes.

“Used less water this month. I’m gonna keep doing laundry at night,” she called back, but he only hummed, eyes kept on her peacefully.

How had he ever stood the emptiness of his home without her?

The bills were stacked and left on the table top, and she turned, a chair bearing the weight from her hand and the other holding her baby bulge as she met his gaze.

“I ate too much,” she softly confided, and he chuckled.

“Me too,”

“You gonna call it a night?” she asked, walking over to lay down beside him with a pleased exhale, her legs stretching across his lap.

Nick shrugged, squeezing between her body and the couch to rest his cheek over her stomach. “Lemme hold my baby,” he said behind a kiss, an arm draped over her thighs.

“You mean your son?” she bargained, and her smile grew wider as his brow arched higher once he looked up at her.

“Possessed with the thought now?”

“Convinced,” she corrected, rubbing his head as he adjusted his hold around her. The soft rumbling of purrs started soon after her nails drew designs across the back of his neck, a digit venturing to trace the shell of his ear. His big shoulders shimmied, and Callie giggled.

“I wanna know the gender,”

Big golden eyes found her bewildered ones, his chin resting under her bust.

“Really? Your family got to you?” she asked in disbelief, but Nick only shrugged.

“I wanna know if we’re having a Leo or a Veronika,” he confessed, fingers drumming.

“Or a Renata,” she added reluctantly, pulling her thigh up from under him. “What if I never got pregnant again and we don’t have the chance to keep it a surprise?”

“Do you know how many of my aunts wanna throw you a baby shower?” he grinned, eventually getting one out of her.

“So does Rosie,” she revealed, already feeling her formerly resilient stance on this subject wavering the longer she gazed down at his pout. Nick never used this face, choosing to save it for rare occasions knowing it was her undoing.

In defeat, she dropped her head back. “I’ll think about it,”

“Good,” he settled, unwilling to push his luck any further. A glance downwards caught sight of his toothy grin, but swinging her knee into his chest to knock it from his face did little when he caught her blow, his hand placed appealingly farther inwards.

She licked her lips, her other foot sliding off the edge of the couch.

He masked his inching in soft caresses, closer to her center now.

“I gotta get up early tomorrow,” she muttered, her breath heavying involuntarily.

She could feel his chest expand rapidly; he was scenting her. Nick swallowed and lapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, relishing in the warm spice that was already coming off of her. It heavied his eyes immediately.

“We should go to bed soon then,” he replied gruffly, the back of his nails dragging side to side along the edge of her panties that sat at the crook of her inner thigh. She twisted ever so slightly beside him, already impatient.

“Soon,” she agreed, and her breath hitched when Nick’s featherlight touch traced her lips, up and down over her panties, craning his neck to look up at her. “Later,” she corrected, whining.

“You have stuff to do?” he smirked, and her expression was pure agony. “Say it,” he puffed, pulling up against his elbow so his face was before hers, his fingers still barely any pressure.

“Touch me,” came out in a harsh breath, her hips rising, awkwardly at that with her belly in the way.

“Again,” he groaned, licking the nipple that was barely poking out from under her camisole. Her breasts had swelled beautifully since pregnancy set in.

“Touch me, please,”

His lips found hers in time to smother a delicious moan just as his hand slid under the panties and between her lips, pebbling her soaked clit with his middle finger. Her kisses were messy, her grip on his face weak as he ground his palm in wide circles while his fingertips prodded her entrance.

“You’re cruel,” she gnarled, face tightening in anger when rocking her hips did little to get him in, but Nick’s crooked grin was devious, and sexy. Goosebumps cascaded down her inner thighs, her knee rising to hook over his thigh.

“Stop teasing-” he found his way deeper into her camisole, his tongue swirling around a hard nipple. “C’mon,”

“Hm?” he pretended not to hear, drawing wide circles around her clit, resisting a moan himself; she was so warm- it made him feverish thinking of sinking into her.

She exhaled angrily, her entire body bowing under him. But his touch still evaded her entrance.

“Baby please,” she grabbed his face, bringing his gaze to hers. A soft kiss, and he groaned, sitting farther up over her. “Inside me,” she sighed, her tongue finding his momentarily. “Make me scream,”

Nick chuffed, pushing his tongue in her mouth for a heated kiss just as he pushed his middle two fingers in, her body tensing in the most languid of fashions. His eager mouth fell to her neck as she bowed, her own hand resting over his to feel how he finger fucked her.

“Keep moving like that,” he growled, pumping his wrist in time with her hips. He sat up- he had to see the way her pussy ground against his palm, her juices already shimmering in the dim light over his skin.

“Faster,” she forced out, arms hooked over the armrest above her head, using the leverage to snap her hips harshly. A long chuff expelled from him, and suddenly his fingers had pulled from her.

His face fell back into her touch after he’d swiftly pulled the soaked panties off her feet and pushed his sweats down to free his aching cock, his tight undershirt bunched up around his ribs that rippled with muscle.

Both of them moaned when the head of his dick squeezed in, seating tightly against her core, and there was only a few chaste moments of desperate, messy kissing before he fisted his hands into the cushions beneath her ass and started thrusting.

His mouth dropped to the spot under her jaw his bite would always mar as her neck craned deliciously, long, throaty moans wavering from her. He laved his tongue over the healing bruise after biting down, slowly, harshly, snarling into her skin when his speed increased.

“Oh fuck baby,” she whined, her heels pressed tight into his lower back.

“You’re so wet,” he puffed against her cheek, following her face as her head lulled side to side.

“Don’t stop- please don’t stop,” she begged breathlessly, eyes rolling back when he obeyed, her ass smacking against his hips loudly.

He had to close his eyes, tightly. He was so close- watching where his glazed dick punished her would only send him there faster.

Her touch brought his face back to hers, struggling to find her lips when she bounced beneath him.

“Oh God- oh fuck,” she wept, her brows tightening. It was happening; her hands were stilling over his tensed arms, her nails starting to pinch into his skin as her breathing became rougher.

“There you go,” he placed open mouthed kisses across her jaw. “Cum on my dick,”

“Like that- just like that baby,” she exhaled harshly.

Fuck- the way she spoke when she was like this. Everything was a pleasured plea, her tone harsh, and heady. She whimpered something, many things, her entire body curling inwards until it rolled straight, long successions of strangled moans and melodies of his name flying from her as that submerging wash of ecstacy shot out to every corner of her body.

The pulses started around his dick, and he fell to his elbows, muffling the Orkish curses against her shoulder.

She was a fucking drug- one that created the best high he never wanted to come down from, but his end was approaching, her prolonged cries and spice of her damp skin making him dizzy. His thrusts were shortening as her touch dipped under his arms to move down his taut back, admiring the fibers of muscle that worked elegantly under her fingers.

“You’re so perfect, you feel so fucking good,” she breathed beside his ear, her arms tight around his ribs with her face hiding in the crook of his neck. She kissed his cheek sweetly until he looked at her. “Cum in me?” she whispered, her lips featherlight against his as he groaned loudly, borderline sobbing as he fucked this perfect human below him.

His hips jerked erratically, shouting disconnected words against her skin, quieting to low moans and grunts as he milked himself into her until there was nothing left.

Nick’s broad shoulders heaved with deep breaths, the gentle kisses dusting across his cheek pulling his face from the crook of her neck for a few sloppy smooches upon her mouth. His arms started to tremble when his heavy body wanted to fall, but he couldn’t crush her stomach.

With a disapproving groan from Callie, he sat up and slipped out, falling back against the other arm rest, a hand flat on his chest as he steadied his breathing.

“Oh god I gotta pee,” she griped, grunting with great difficulty as she sat up, and waddled to the bathroom. His hand followed her, but dropped to the floor.

Emptying his load in her had sucked the life right out of him.

So worth it, he smiled to himself, lifting his hips to pull his sweats up and the shirt down his lean stomach.

The bathroom door opened, and she ambled out, peeking at him from the dark hallway.

“Come spoon me,” she called longingly, walking backwards to keep her sleepy eyes on him as he reached for her. Her legs were still shaky, that much was evident even from across the living room, and it sparked a little pride in him.

It was with great effort that he rose to first turn off the kitchen light then follow her to their room, not even bothering to change as he flopped like a 250 pound sack of potatoes beside her, bouncing a little across the mattress.

Callie giggled endlessly as she rolled into his side, holding around his shoulders as he buried his face against her breasts, shoving a knee between her thighs. They were pretzeled, chatting quietly with soft touches across her lower back and his shoulder blades, sleep sneaking its way into their cuddle the longer they spoke. Soon they were yawning uncontrollably, and their words were muddling, so with a hand rested on her stomach- awkwardly that was- Nick was the first to drift off, his cheek mashed comically against her chest before Callie followed suit, still rubbing the pads of her fingers behind his ear that twitched on its own accord.

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

if Orcs are anything like i think they are, i imagine they'd throw bitchin' barbeque's and I WANNA BE INVITED. and they chose a name for a booooooy! 💕 (acting like i haven't posted spoilers on tumblr for MONTHS NOW)

thank you for reading! feedback is always greatly appreciated n_n

translations: -"ven! ven qui!": come! come here!

-"lat pa-gog beaukav!": you dumb beast! -"Mausan lovepak": my lovely -"Nalkren'uk avhe faushnu?": how's the baby?

And just in case cause i have a habit of choosing names that are pronounced weirdly: +Makhel (muh-kel) +Rania (raw-knee-uh) +Makar (muh-car; Leo's middle name)

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