#uhhhhhhh i hope this one gets across what i was trying to say | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simply-hyacinth · 2 years

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it was so interesting to read your writings! you are doing great! your L is so in character and I'm just really charmed with the story........may i request just uhhhhhhh some fluff continuation? how it'd be in these circumstances and with those characters to your mind

thank you for your time!!

Unedited! Not proof read! Yay!!! I kinda started writing one and then made another version and then combined the two. I hope I don't disappoint, but here's some of you and L baking and interacting (and a first little i love you hehe)

Noon. That was when the message said he would arrive. You tapped your foot against the floor, nervous. God, you were planning to close down early for the evening, just for him.

You stared at the table where you first met. Another couple sat there, currently laughing over their slices of chocolate cake. It was hard to imagine that it had been over a year since he had come into your life, especially considering how little you saw him. He was a busy man, you knew that.

Didn’t make it hurt any less.

In an attempt to relieve yourself of some stress, you started on some paperwork and newly drawn up contracts regarding your bakery. The mundane act of simply reading and signing took your mind off of the anticipation.

You looked up at the clock after a while, squinting as you read the numbers. Your eyes widened as you realized it was almost an hour past noon. Looking around, your gaze fell upon a figure in the corner booth of the bakery. Your eyes met his and a thin smile creeped over his lips.

“You’re here?” You asked after crossing over to sit down across from him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so engrossed in your work,” He replied simply. “I wanted to watch you for a bit. If I interrupted you, you would put all of it aside to spend time with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you complaining about that?”

“Not at all.” He traced his finger over the surface of the table. “But, perhaps I merely wanted to excuse my own actions.”

“Could you elaborate?” You asked him. It was a question you used very often, as he had a habit of saying the vaguest things and not providing any content.

His gaze dropped so he was no longer looking at you. “When you drop everything for me…I feel as if I am insufficient for being unable to do the same for you. I chose not to disturb you and make you aware of my presence perhaps because I did not want to feel worse about myself, or for you to resent me for it.”

“That’s such bullshit.” You stated firmly. “It’s not the same at all! You’re doing what I assume is important work, while I’m just trying to finish getting my taxes done. And I would never resent you for that.”

He made a little sound that could have been a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the booth. “Here, go on up to the loft while I kick the cute couple over there out.”

He obliged, taking the keys and slowly making his way up to your place as you closed down the rest of the bakery. You thought about what he said - about how he felt insufficient. You wondered if there were other things that made him feel like that as well.

You picked out a couple desserts for him in hopes that they would cheer him up. Your hands found the necklace he had given you for your birthday, and you recalled with fondness the memory of that night.

Making your way up to your place, you opened the door to see him examining a photo from your table.

“Enjoying yourself?” You teased as you entered the loft.

He let go of the picture frame he was holding. “You were a cute baby.”

“Oh? Am I no longer cute?” The picture he was referring to was one of you when you were around four, and playing in the snow.

“That’s not what I meant,” He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall, looking around. “It’s clean. The last time I was here it was a mess. I don’t suppose you cleaned for my arrival, hmm?”

You scoffed. “Of course not. It was for the other young gentleman I brought over last night. If you’re observant enough, you might smell his cologne in my bed.”

L frowned at that. “Your jokes are not funny.”

“Ah well, you seem to like the majority of them.” You press a gentle kiss under his jaw and lace your fingers through his. “What do you want for dinner?”

He peered at you underneath his lashes, his voice dropping a little lower than normal. “What if I were to say I wanted you?”

You stared at him for a moment, motionless. Then you laughed nervously and smiled at him. “It’s so odd to hear that kind of stuff from you. It couldn’t possibly be because you’re…jealous, are you? Of the nonexistent man I’ve invited to my bed every night in your absence?”

“No other man should be in your bed, existent or not.” He grumbled. “Not that you would ever do such a thing, anyways.”

“Who says I wouldn’t?”

“The fact that you chose me tells me you had no other options.”

You hit his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be mean! I was going to be nice and let you choose a movie for us to watch, but after that I think we’ll be watching some more Christmas movies again.”

“I don’t suppose it’s too late to apologize, is it?” His voice tinted lightly with exasperation.

“Ha! Too fucking late.” You beamed back at him.

You started preparing dinner - having noticed earlier that as per usual, he was much thinner and sickly looking than the last time you saw him. Thankfully, his dark circles and eye bags were less pronounced.

You hoped he was actually getting sleep this time, and hadn’t just discovered the miracle of makeup and skincare.

“Hey, let’s play a game.”

“What is it?” He slid his hands around your waist, an amused smile pulling the corners of his lips up as he noticed you tense up.

“I’ll try and list off some fun facts and you tell me if you already knew them.” You tried to breathe calmly, which was hard when he was so damn close to you.

“I forget that you have an obsession with my capacity for knowledge.”

With a shaky laugh, you attempted to wave off his statement. “Hmm? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He dropped his head down to your shoulder, pressing himself against your neck. “If you only find me attractive for my intelligence, you can tell me. I won’t be entirely offended.”

You frowned and rolled your eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your brain is only half of the reason why I like you.”

“And the other half?”

“You do as I say. I like an obedient man.” You felt him huff lightly, his breath skimming the surface of your neck. “So then, what do you like about me? I’m not extraordinary like you are.”

It was a question you genuinely wondered about. It seemed odd to you that someone like him had taken any interest in you at all. At times, you wondered if it was all a ruse, and one day he would drop the act and leave you behind.

You didn’t like those times.

“No,” He mused. “You are not extraordinary.”

“Wow.”

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” He said testily. “I would have continued had you not interrupted me. You are not extraordinary, yes, and you could never do what it is I do. However, I am firm in my belief that if our roles were reversed, I would not be able to handle your life either.”

You weren’t quite understanding. “Being…a baker?”

“Being so human. Interacting with people daily and being the one to accommodate their needs. I have half the social skills you do and I do not think I have nearly as much charm either.”

“Oh I see,” You pause for a moment. “So what I’m getting is, you can’t do the social stuff but you could absolutely steal my job as a baker?”

“I don’t quite think you understand.”

“No no, I do! You mentioned aspects of my life other than baking. You clearly think that’s a part of what I do that you could actually handle.” You huff teasingly.

L pressed a finger to his lips. “Baking involves following a recipe. I think that falls under the list of things I am capable of.”

You put your hands on your hips and narrow your eyes, turning to face him. “Fine then. Let’s do it. Besides, this is something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”

“Oh is that so?”

“Yeah, after all, it is kinda how we met.”

He smiled at the memory. “That was quite a while ago. At times it feels odd to think that I have known you this long, and even odder to think that you have not yet tried to poison me. I understand the temptation must be - “

You pulled him in for a kiss - one of the only foolproof methods you had discovered would shut him up. “I think poison would ruin the taste of my food, which I care about much more than killing you.”

L couldn’t even be annoyed at your joke about murdering him. He had practically set himself up for it.

You decided you didn’t want to waste any time; he was hardly around for long anyways, so why sit and stir your boring soup when you could be teaching him the wonders of baking?

Watching L bake was something you had never really imagined before, but it was mesmerizing anyways. Not that he was anywhere as good as you were, but he was much more methodical and careful with it than you ever thought to be.

“A fourth of a cup…”

“Just eyeball it.” You reached over him to grab the chocolate chips. “We measure these with our heart.”

“The recipe says - “ His sentence was cut off by you ripping the paper out of his hands and tossing it aside. “Now that was dramatic.”

You rolled your eyes at him, pressing a little kiss against his cheek to calm him. “The recipe is whatever we decide it is. And I say we eyeball it.” You could see him forming a protest, but you quickly said, “Hey, which one of us is a professional baker?”

“You are, my dear.”

The joy from the smile that spread across your face could have cured cancer. “Say that to me more often. I like it.”

The tips of his ears reddened slightly and he poured the entire bag of chocolate chips into the cookie dough.

At the sight of your wide eyes, he said, “You told me to measure with my heart.”

“Your heart really doesn’t want to last long.” You murmured under your breath.

“You never began the game, by the way.” He scooped up a bit of the dough onto his finger and popped it into his mouth. “The one about fun facts.”

“Oh right!” You rested your elbows against the counter and pressed yourself forward. “I bet you didn’t know snails can sleep up to three years.”

He smiled, and you knew immediately that you had lost that one. “Try again.”

“Bumblebees can fly higher than Mount Everest?”

“I’ll give you another chance.”

You frowned, irritated. For what reason would he have to already know these things? “Decapitated sea slugs can grow back a body?”

He chuckled softly, still incorporating the chocolate chips into the dough. “Your attempts are amusing.”

“One more!” You leaned towards him and drew in a small breath. “I love you.”

L stopped mixing. For a solid moment, he was entirely still, his eyes and expression utterly unreadable. You were scared; worried that your moment of vulnerability was too much - that you had pressed too far.

“You win.” Was all he responded with, his voice shaky.

It wasn’t until several hours later when the two of you were sitting on the couch, munching away at the way-too-chocolatey cookies you had made, that he said something else about it.

You weren’t expecting it, if you were honest. You had no qualms about admitting you were in love with him and not receiving something back, however as you leaned into his chest and grinned at the end credits of the movie, you heard him utter three lovely little words.

“And I, you.”

No, they weren’t the exact same ones you had given him, but they made your heart skip a beat regardless. Because they were true. So incredibly true; that in all his years of living, L had never loved a person as he loved you.

#simplyhyacinth #deathnote #deathnote x reader #deathnote fanfiction #l lawliet #l x reader #lawliet x reader #fanfiction #l death note #l x you

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howlingdemon13 · 4 months

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I'd like to ask some questions from the Character Ask Game! ✨

Specifically numbers 1, 2, and 12 for Beetlejuice!

I hope these answers aren't too in depth, but I have ✨ thoughts ✨! I'm gonna try to keep this Musicaljuice specific because he's my favorite. 1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

There are a bajillion factors at play as to why I adore this weird little goober man. I always really end up loving the monster/supernatural entity/villain in most media I consume, so Beetlejuice perfectly fits that niche in my brain (occult brain go brrr). Like, yes, I love the demon by default. Of all of his iterations, Musical!Beetlejuice is my favorite. He's kind of a shithead, but he's entertaining. I want to see him succeed as much as I want to see him fail if that makes sense (also depends on if I'm watching the movie vs the cartoon vs the musical). Full disclosure, I never watched Beetlejuice 1988 until October of last year. The only reason I did was because I thought I should watch it/get context before watching the Brightman bootleg of the mucial I found. And uhhhhhhh I didn't really like it, which is weird for me (but I do enjoy it more now). All that's to say that the musical version of the character was more sympathetic and more fleshed out in a way that makes me both feel so so bad for him (mommy issues solidarity) while also wanting to punt him across a room (that might also be the cute-aggression though). My pathetic little meow meow. He does also give me the tiniest bit of Genie vibes? Love me the magical comic relief trope. Stellar. 10/10. No notes. Did I mention that he makes me laugh? It's the immature humor for me. It's the kind of low-brow goofiness that I grew up with (thanks, dad, ow I'm immature). This applies to all iterations, but mostly Musicaljuice and Toonjuice (the puns! I live and breathe puns!)

2. Favorite canon thing about this character? Mood ring hair. Even though he's not human, Beetlejuice just feels feelings so intensly as a demon that his emotions can literally change a part of his physical appearance. Whoever thought of this is a genius. I love this trope across media because there's something that's really appealing to me about a character giving in to their emotions in that way. Like, as much as Beetlejuice is a manipulative jerk, he can't really hide how he's feeling and that's a fun juxtaposition that has a lot of potential (forever crying that the mood ring hair is not utilized in the tour version). That, and I do love what people have done with this concept in fanfics/fan art.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I have so many! But one that doesn't leave my brain is that Beej is a big fan of swing music (and by extension swing dancing). I was going to make a mega post about this (and maybe I will eventually), but there are a few instances in the musical that contribute to this. Honestly though, it's really the energy and melodies associated with the genre that I naturally associate with Beetlejuice. As much as Beej has a rock-inspired motif going on with a lot of his songs in the musical, I like to think that a demon that old would have a hard time moving on from a genre like jazz and thus swing.

#sorry this is long and rambly!#but i could gush about the ghost demon for days without stopping to breathe #ask answered

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splend-aros · 6 years

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Daily Affirmation 1004.

Let us honor those aros who have fallen.

Those who never knew they were aro. Those who lost themselves in amatonormativity and self-denial. Those who hurt themselves because of self-loathing; those who ended themselves because they felt there was no joy ahead of them. Those who were hurt by others in an effort to change them, and those who felt they had no one to turn to. Those who were fighting for a better future for themselves and for others, but didn't achieve what they wanted for aros too.

We grieve for you. And we give hope and support those in situations like yours. Together we can make it through. Together we can remember those who didn't.

#all arospec #affirmation #amatonormativity #aromisia #anti aro sentiment m #suicide //#depressed aros #abuse mention cw #uhhhhhhh i hope this one gets across what i was trying to say

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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 3 years

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HI ELLIE I'M HERE TO REQUEST FOR YER 36 QUESTIONS SERIES

can i request question 14 with nishinoya? my answer to that question would probably be crying in someones arms, like having their arms around me and being comforted as i cry? hearing someone tell me its going to be okay into my ear as i cry, something like that. the song would probably be gimme love by joji

iokisaoskjrei okokok thank ya :o

14. IS THERE SOMETHING THAT YOU’VE DREAMED OF DOING FOR A LONG TIME? WHY HAVEN’T YOU DONE IT?

𝐘𝐔 𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐀 || TRAINING CAMP BATHROOM AT 2AM || HURT/COMFORT

a/n: warnings for anxiety n overthinking, read at your own risk love!!

there you were-- crying in the training camp bathrooms at two in the morning. because you were so sick and tired of being there for others.

not in a place that came out of hate, but rather the opposite. it was because you cared. you cared so, so much and yet, no one seemed to do the same in return. but then you felt selfish for feeling that way, so you couldn’t recall the last time you’d cried in a public place.

because the training camp bathrooms were somehow quieter than expected, so it was pretty much a perfect place to get some peace and quiet.

from your knowledge, everyone else in karasuno was already sound asleep. which, in a way, was both lonely and comforting at the same time. everyone was asleep except you, so if you just fell apart, no one would notice.

but... did you want them to notice?

you wanted someone to care, that’s for sure.

“god... i just wanted to sleep, stupid bladder-”

you heard someone’s voice-- yu nishinoya’s voice outside of the bathrooms.

a knock pounded against the door.

“uhhhhhhh...” nishinoya said, voice still dripping with sleep. “is someone in here?”

“o-one second,” you managed, voice cracking at the last word. why couldn’t you just keep it together? you quickly splashed water onto your face as you took a few deep breaths, inhale, exhale, and your hand reach towards the door handle.

“y/n?” nishinoya said, knocking even louder. “are you okay?”

you hesitated on opening the door. it’d been so, so long since someone had asked that. if you saw his face, he saw yours and asked it again, god, would you just- break down?

your hand fell back into your pockets as you sat down, back pressed against the door. with every inch of your being, you managed to whisper a small “no.”

and that was all it took for nishinoya to stop knocking as you heard what sounded like a coat slide down the door, and a sudden warmth was pressed against your back.

“do you... want to talk about it?”

was-- was nishinoya leaning against the door?

he didn’t walk away. he didn’t say i hope you feel better and leave to use the bathroom outside of his sleeping quarters. he didn’t pretend he didn’t hear you and leave. he didn’t share what he was going through right after. he didn’t try to bust open the door and swarm you with questions.

he simply slid down on the door next to you, reassuring you that he was here, and here to listen.

and you broke down.

“oh i’m-” nishinoya stammered. “hey, i’m-, do you- do you still want to talk? what do you need?”

you wiped at your tears, feeling guilty for making him worried. “no, it’s nothing, it’s fine, don’t worry-”

“do you need a hug?”

you paused, trying to catch your breath. after a few more moment of silence, you whispered, “i... i think so-”

within a few seconds, you moved away from the door as nishinoya pulled it open before scooping you into his arms.

his frame was small, almost felt delicate, until his arms wrapped around yours, firm and certain. he ran his hands through your hair before holding your hand and lightly kissing your forehead. “hey, come on, breathe with me.”

he felt safe. warm. comforting.

“i’m so sorry if what you’re going through is this bad. i am so, so sorry you’re going through this. i’m here. you’re okay. you’re okay.” he pulled away slowly, wiping a tear off your face. “i got your back, okay? you and me against the world. how does that sound?”

you manage to hum in reply through broken sobs.

“oh, y/n,” he said gently. “hey, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me? think about all the amazing things tomorrow. uh, you might have garlic bread! and if you don’t like garlic bread, um, clouds and stars! those are always pretty, right?”

you nod, arms open before his warm embrace meets you again.

“and maybe you can see hinata fly across the court again! that’s always fun, isn’t it?”

you laugh slightly, smiling as you let go, rubbing your eyes.

“come on, let’s go back to sleep, alright? i got your back. i always will.”

36 QUESTIONS (OPEN)

#series.36.questions<3!#kme: flushphoria!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya fluff #noya headcanons #nishinoya headcanons #nishinoya imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #nishinoya scenarios #nishinoya hcs

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Yet Another “Deidara is Related to Naruto” Fic Concept

Okay so you know how Deidara is the only person in canon to share Naruto and Minato's highlighter yellow hair? And there's all those fics where Dei is Naruto's half brother?

So let’s flip that a bit.

(Once again with help from @firebirdeternal)

Thought being this: Minato was an Iwa infiltrator's mission baby, and Dei is Minato's ludicrously younger half-sibling who ends up in Minato's care for hand-wave reasons.

Ends up screwing the whole plot because Minato and his team have to pass on the Kannabi mission due to Infant Acquisition.

(Minato having to deal with "Explosions!" the Toddler is... really funny. Kakashi and Obito don't have a Dramatic Death-based falling out they just have to bond over babysitting the world's least safe child.)

I have two (2) ideas on how Deidara ends up in Minato's care. One is more of a shitpost than the other.

We’ll start with the Serious Drama idea.

There was an Iwa nin that went undercover in Konoha at some point, slept around a bit, got someone pregnant, and dipped before they had to take responsibility. Said Iwa nin was aware of the kid, but also like. Undercover. And also a dick. And like sixteen.

Anyway, Minato's mom never told him about his dad beyond "he was a jerk who ditched us, I don't have photos," and then died on a mission when Minato was relatively young, so Minato didn't know just WHERE his dad was from.

Fast forward a solid twenty-five years or so, and that Iwa nin has gotten married. Iwa nin is now early forties, married a somewhat younger woman (thirties), and caused a pregnancy, this time with the intent to stick around.

Unfortunately, Iwa nin is a shitty husband, and his wife only realizes this most of the way into the pregnancy, and can't just divorce him, because she's clan (the husband is not), and that sort of thing has Social Consequences. So she does something risky... and fakes her death.

And then proceeds to go to Konoha, because she knows about Minato, even saw a pic and got his name once because her husband got a little tipsy once and talked about it, and admitted that he'd gotten a buddy in infiltration to snap a photo a few years back.

And so Deidara's mom sneaks her way across the continent, and dies shortly before or after arriving in Konoha. It’s somewhere the dad won't follow if he realizes she's alive, and because what little she's heard about Minato at that point is generally not terrible. The war hasn't ramped up enough for him to pull The Bullshit, so all she has is the info that the infiltration buddies got her husband.

Definitely lives long enough to provide a name and basic info on who the relative is, but dies before Minato gets back from a mission.

Alternately, Jiraiya is the one who does the intelligence legwork necessary to figure out all the connections and then drops Baby Deidara in Minato's lap because Family is Important to orphans like them but then also does nothing to help because he is Jiraiya.

AND NOW THE CRACK OPTION

So most of the How Babies Happen backstory is technically the same, but Deidara arriving in Konoha is not an intentional situation, but rather a sealing mishap.

As one does.

Kushina just wanted to use a seal to locate other Uzumaki survivors and Minato figured he'd test it first since his chakra is less volatile and whoops.

Minato: Hey, maybe I'll find out who my dad is!

The seal was supposed to just give them a general direction and distance. Like "36.2 miles, 32.3 degrees east of north. 73.9 miles, 2.5 degrees south of west." etc

It was not supposed to reverse summon An Entire Baby.

Note, Deidara’s exploding chakra is a kekkei genkai that I'm saying he got from his mom because Minato doesn't have it, but the hands are likely the kinjutsu. That said, I want Minato to be like "Ah. Hand mouths. That's... can someone get Tsunade please?"

Kushina: I'm not an expert on babies, so I could be wrong, but is this normal??

Kushina: I deeply hope that was a thing the baby already had before we accidentally pulled it through seal-space.

Kushina: His hair is like yours? Maybe he's like a cousin or a nephew? Minato: I guess??? Should. Should we figure out how to send him back? His parents must be freaking out. Kushina: Uhhhhhhh [handwave reason to keep the baby]

The scene HAS TO boil down to Kushina going "Wait shit are we parents now?"

Minato: No! I mean, I--I want to, yes, eventually, but I wasn't planning on anything this soon and really we should get married first and also I think this is technically my brother and--

I had two ideas for why they wouldn’t immediately try to send Dei back, and Birdie offered one, but here’s the best option IMO.

Deidara's chakra blows up the seal before they can figure out how to reverse what they did. Before they can even analyze what went wrong.

They kept notes but something something spilled ink idk. They gotta start from scratch.

Equally likely: They kept notes but they're basically grad students and those notes were all done in a caffeine-fueled 36-hour Coding Binge and literally not even Master-Sealer-Master-Codebreaker Jiraiya can decipher what the fuck they were doing, let alone them.

Frankly they just can't unscramble this egg so they have to just Do Their Best

They have to get a blood test done by Tsunade or Oro to figure out who this kid even is. The hair helps but??? Whomst are you, child?

And then Jiraiya's like 'Yeah, I know those hands. Kid's from Iwa.'

And the war’s already underway so they can’t admit to accidentally stealing an Iwa child.

There's not really a way to say "Hey we accidentally kidnapped this baby" and still save political face because nobody is going to believe it was an accident anyways so? I guess we just have this baby now.

Probably there’s a name tag on his shirt or something so he’s still Deidara.

Kushina: Minato, seriously, you're old enough to be the baby's dad, just have him call you tou-chan. Minato: But!!! Kushina: We can make Uzumaki babies later, take care of your technically-brother baby now.

Naruto is born and Kushina's just like "How strong are your family's hair genes???"

Technically-uncle Deidara who is like Naruto's older brother is going to be the worst influence on the Chaos baby.

Never let Obito babysit.

Naruto: I want to do pranks. Deidara: I want to explosions. Obito: Seems reasonable. Let's do it!

Anyway, Obito and Deidara never know what kind of ‘friendship’ they had in the other timeline.

Meanwhile, Rin is so ready to help, like she’s not exactly a huge fan of babies or kids, not like Obito is, but she is determined to help and keeps looking up child growth charts and stuff.

Kakashi is terrified that he’s going to break a baby.

Kakashi does not want to hold the baby.

Kakashi does not want to be in the same room as the baby.

Kakashi is going to sit on the outside wall with a sword and make sure nobody hurts the baby, but he will not go near the baby.

Deidara’s like four years older than Naruto and probably Kushina has him hang out with Itachi since Kushina visits Mikoto so often and Mikoto’s already had her first.

Deidara does not like Itachi.

It’s fine.

Being a 'new dad' doesn't excuse Minato from being involved in the war effort but it does change his schedule up enough to miss Kannabi and I stand by this.

#Deidara #Namikaze Minato #Uzumaki Kushina #Jiraiya #MinaKushi #Naruto #adoption #sealing accidents #accidental baby acquisition #Uchiha Obito #Hatake Kakashi #Nohara Rin #Phoenix Posts

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

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I hate it when you stare

Wow here I am with another part, another fic. Ignooooree my typooos. Is this more soft smut? No one told me last time if what I wrote counts so uhhhhhhh

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

I really do have work to do for my class at 2:30 tomorrow but instead I finished this, so I hope you like this!

_______________________

“How is it bullshit? Everyone can tell that we’re in love with each other.”

“So, what, because other people believe it, that automatically means it’s true?”

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

Evelina was visiting home for the weekend for her mom’s birthday, which meant that you had the apartment to yourself. From Friday after work until Sunday night, you were free to do whatever you wanted by yourself. Or, you thought you were going to be doing whatever you wanted until your boss texted you saying that he wanted your project finished by Monday so you could present it that afternoon. That meant you were posted up on the couch, your hair tied in a bun on top of your head, a mug full of coffee, another of tea, and a cup with water all in front of you, the blanket normally on the back of your couch now draped over your shoulders. It was a full call to the hungover days you had back in undergrad when you woke up late and were struggling to finish the work you had due the next morning.

“It’s me!” you hear a familiar voice call from the door, snapping you out of what might have been the first and only roll you had been on working on the project.

You look up to see Matthew coming over the couch, plastic bags in hand to plop down on the table. “Remind me to change the locks.”

“That would mean you have to get up to let me in, though,” he sends a wink in your direction.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though you felt butterflies throughout your entire body at the sight of him looking so comfortable next to you. It was just because he’s a guy, not because it’s Matthew. You let out a quiet sigh as he fiddles with the remote to your TV. “Who says I wouldn’t leave you in the hallway? Plus, I thought you were supposed to have practice today?” you ask, trying to focus more on your project than on him.

“We’re done, and we don’t have a game for three days for once, so we’re resting up. I figured, why not come see my favorite girl?” he says, resting his hand on your shin once your drape your legs over his lap.

“Because Taryn is in St. Louis so you settled for me instead?”

He scoffs, slowly running his hand up and down your bare leg while his eyes fixate on the television screen. He had to be able to feel the goosebumps that he was causing with his touch. “Fine, my favorite girl in Calgary unless Taryn is visiting, are you happy?”

“Am I ever happy when I’m around you?” you tease, lifting only your eyes from your screen to look at him. Still staring at the TV, you can see the smile on his face, but it almost looks like his jaw is clenching, like he’s fighting saying something back.

“And how could I not be happy around you when you treat me like that?” Your eyes linger for a second on his smile before scanning the rest of his body. Even under the long-sleeved dry fit shirt he was wearing, you could see the outline of the muscles that graced his abdomen. His arms looked like they were begging to rip the seam of the shirt, and you wanted nothing more than to take it off of him and just let them free. “Do you like what you see, babe?” you hear him say, snapping you out of the thoughts you were convincing yourself meant nothing as he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m trying to picture you as a more attractive guy,” you lie, “It would be so nice if Elias were here, wouldn’t it?”

“If you’re implying that you want a threesome, then I don’t think I could do it with a teammate,” he laughs, his fingers tightening around your shin. Would Elias be better than Matthew? Any guy would be better than Matthew, you tell yourself. He’s your best friend, and nothing more.

“What have I said about being crude?” you ask him, fixating your eyes on the way he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think I’m gonna go get my headphones so I can do this project.” You bolt from the living room to your bedroom, leaving Matthew there by himself while you search for your phone in a panic.

“Hey, is everything ok?” Evelina says on the other end of the phone call as you try to search for your AirPods in the mess that was your room.

“No, Matthew is here.”

“And that’s bad because?” she asks, drawing out her last word.

Groaning, you drop your phone on your desk, prompting Matthew to call to you asking if you were ok. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Turning back to Evelina, clearly in a panic that she could hear in your voice, “Matthew is here and I think I’m horny.”

“You’re always horny for him because you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him and I’m honry because I haven’t been touched by a man in like, three months. It’s starvation.”

You hear her groan on the other end, her parents voices in the background. “Hold on, I need to go into another room,” she says. “Ok, so you really told me two days when you got home that you and Matthew nearly fucked in public in the liquor store. You have been touched by a man. He was also practically feeling you up at the bar a week ago, might I remind you.”

“I don’t love him,” you say, unprompted, “And he never even kissed me.”

“Says that hickey that you somehow didn’t notice he gave you?” she says, you turning to your mirror to touch the mark she was talking about. You honestly didn’t know it was there until she said something to you when you walked in the door. “If you don’t love him, why don’t you just tell him to leave?”

“I want company and he’s the only thing I have when you aren’t here. Really, this is all your fault.”

“That was so sweet until you blamed me. If you don’t want him to leave then what’s the problem?”

“Horny,” you say at the same time. “Either do something about it or control yourself, babe, but I’ve gotta go. Miss you, love you,” she says, hanging up when you finally find your AirPods.

Pulling up your playlist so it’s already playing when you get to Matthew, you don’t even look at him as you take your computer back in your lap and throw your legs in his. You can feel his eyes tracing the outline of your body even under the baggy sweatshirt you had on from a college you never went to.

You had worked for what was probably a solid half hour, Matthew mindlessly rubbing his hand on your leg like he did before, you needing to do everything in your power to stop from thinking about and wanting more. You were interrupted by Matthew reaching over and tugging on the hem of your shorts. “Are you really listening to Christmas music right now?”

“Is it that loud?” you ask, turning the volume down immediately.

“No, I can read your lips. You were mouthing ‘Feliz Navidad,’ and ‘Sleigh Ride.’”

“Oh, then, yes,” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment that you didn’t even realize you were doing that.

“It’s March, babe.”

“Ok, but Christmas music is fine year round.”

“No?” he questions.

“So I’m going to tell you why you’re wrong,” you start, moving your computer to the table so you don’t drop it, provoking a laugh to escape from his lips, “While I don’t agree with all things in Catholic and the broader Christian doctrine, there are things I can agree with basically because they are up for interpretation, so I interpret them in the way I like. Take, for example, the ninth commandment: love thy neighbor. Some people take it as a literal ‘love thy neighbor’ as in ‘be a good neighbor,’ to the ones who live next door, but I think it’s a matter of caring for those around you, neighbor not being the person immediately next to you wherever you live, but just other people in general.”

“What is your point?” he asks, a devilish grin spread across his face.

“My point is that the Bible, which is the end all be all of Catholic doctrine according to some people, is up for interpretation and people use it the way that benefits them, no matter how wrong they normally are. In Hebrews 13:15, it says, “Through him let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name,” thereby, justifying and promoting listening to Christmas music year round. It praises Jesus, who is one of the persons that make up God, and doing year round is continuous.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Hey, if people can be assholes and use a 2,000 year old book to try to wrongly justify their bigotry and homophobia, why can’t I use it to rightly justify my listening to christmas music all year?”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about it and keep the things that I like with me. I’m not Jesuit but I follow their ideals like ‘care for the whole person’ and ‘be a man or woman with and for other.’ And Evelina’s parents are very religious, so we kind of put up a front whenever they visit to please them. They still think we go to Mass every Sunday.”

“Is that why there’s sometimes a crucifix by the door?” he asks, you nodding along. “And that weird Jesus magnet where he has a chefs hat and it says ‘fish and bread are served’ underneath him?”

“Yeah, I think her dad superglued that to the fridge because no matter how many times we’ve tried to get it off it won’t budge. Plus it’s a reference to another Bible passage.”

“I went to a Catholic high school, remember? I already knew that.” You can’t help but return the smile he was sending your way, this time your eyes flicking down to his lips, you unsure if his were doing the same. You snap out of it, biting your lip and making eye contact with Matthew, both of you breathing slightly unevenly at just thinking about what you could do with each other. Was Evelina right that you two loved each other?

No, she couldn’t be right, because you didn’t love him. You pick your computer back up to get back to work, not saying another word as Matthew turned back to the TV. You hit a deadend, finding yourself back to staring at Matthew’s perfect face while his eyes narrowed and a small smirk formed on his lips at something funny on whatever movie or show he was watching.

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, Matthew’s head snapping to your direction as you cover your face with your hands. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He reaches over and pulls your hands from your face, intertwining his fingers in yours. “Take a break, I brought food for us.”

“You didn’t cook it yourself, did you?” you ask. The last time he had made food for you, you were sick for a week from what you’re sure was food poisoning from something being undercooked.

He laughs, the pad of his thumb rubbing your palms. You could feel your breathing get shallow by this, trying to ignore it while he’s talking to you. “No, I got it from the store down the road, already made. Mac and Cheese!” he says, pulling it out of the bag.

You roll your eyes at his stupidity. “Matthew, we’ve been sitting here for over two hours, why would you leave that on the table instead of in the fridge?”

“It’s still warm!” he argues, opening it, “Oh and it smells so bad.” You burst out laughing as he cringes, closing it immediately. “I’ll order something else.”

You get up to go throw out the now rancid mac and cheese in the kitchen. “Hey, where do you want to order from?” you hear Matthew call, walking into the kitchen behind you.

The list.

It’s on the fridge.

Practically throwing yourself at it to try to tear it down in time, you rip it off the fridge and fold it up in your hand just in time for Matthew to come in. “Are you ok?” he asks you, noticing your slightly faster breathing and your hands behind your back.

“Yeah, the smell was just bad,” you lie to him, shoving the list in the band of your shorts. “And I was looking at the Jesus magnet.”

“That thing is so creepy,” he says, both of you looking at it. Knowing Matthew, you try as discreetly as possible to move the paper to your front so he can’t feel it as he inevitably presses his front to your back, his arms draping over your shoulders. Without thinking, you reach up to touch his hands as he rests his head on yours. “It’s way too white to be Jesus.”

His arms move their way down your body, settling around your waist as he starts to nibble at your ear. “God, you are so sexy,” you hear him let out.

“You’re awfully handsy lately, aren’t you Matty?”

“Oh come on,” he says, turning you around to face him, practically pinning you against the fridge, “You know we’re always like this with each other.”

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hands as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheeks. “We have a weird...” you start, trying to figure out the right word to describe whatever it was you had with him, “friendship,” you settle on, not exactly liking the word yourself as your tried to hide the cringe you were sure was appearing on your face.

He swallows hard at that word. Even relationship would have been better, even if it were more broad than ‘friendship.’ At least it wasn’t such a narrow word. It felt like even if you didn’t finish the list you didn’t know he knew about, you would never see him as more than a friend. “Well, that’s what makes it my favorite friendship.”

The two of you stand there for a minute, holding each other and gazing into the others eyes. You could feel your breathing slow down studying Matthew’s facial features again, thinking only of how perfect they looked to you in that moment. “We should figure out where we’re getting food from,” you say, dragging your hands down his chest before dropping him all together.

He could have stared at you like that forever. He really couldn’t think of anyone more perfect than you, anyone he would want to look at besides you. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, moving over to the counter. Opening your fridge, you remember you still have the list folded in the band of your shorts, throwing it in before grabbing some water out. “What did you just throw in there?” Matthew asked you, having watched your every move.

“Uh, Evelina and I have this weird list that we’re putting together, it didn’t feel right to have Jesus looking over it all of a sudden,” you tell him, “But now that you had mac and cheese on my mind, I kind of want that.”

“Oh, no, you’re not changing the subject that easily,” he says, trying to reach around you to open the fridge.

“No, come on, it’s mostly Evelina’s and I don’t know if she would want you seeing it,” you lie, batting your eyes at him and trying to contort your face to make it look like you would cry if he tried anything else. He couldn’t see the list of things you hate about it. He couldn’t find out about it.

He sighs, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I ordered you mac and cheese but I’ll pay for it if you tell me the subject of the list?” he tries to bargain.

“Uh, it’s a list of kinks,” you lie, not knowing what else to say, and usure why that was the first thing that came to mind.

His eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. It was the list of ten things you hate about him. It had to be. He grins anyway, trying to hide the pain he felt knowing that the list was already started, and probably nearly finished at this point, “Are any of them your kinks?”

“Yeah,” you start to lie to him again, a grin on your face, “One of them says, ‘When Matthew leaves me alone.’”

He scrunches up his face, pretending to be hurt by your comment as he walks back to your living room. “Oh you know just how to break my heart, pretty girl.” You follow him, plopping down next to him on your couch.

You pick up your computer, snuggling into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. “I have no desire to do this project.”

“Why don’t we watch something on TV then and you can work again after we eat?” he suggests. You nod, putting the computer back down, surrendering to his pout. You feel him kiss the top of your head, scrolling through the channels. “What about Lilo and Stitch?” he asks when he finds it on one of the channels.

“Ugh, I love this movie, but the American treatment of Hawaiians is awful, and I just can’t help but think about it every time I watch,” you say, thinking you were being annoying. “Sorry,” you apologize. Evelina was used to your rants, even if you were sure she normally tuned them out. You didn’t think Matthew wanted to listen to another rant from you.

“Don’t get me started?” he asks, referring to the game you and the guys played at the bar.

“Don’t get me started on the American colonization of Hawaii. The Cookes’ went to Hawaii and pretty much obliterated the royal bloodline. The king of Hawaii had the Cookes build boarding schools for the royal children, with good intentions that they would be able to educate his children on royal customs to effectively rule their land. Instead, the Cookes took the Hawaiian customs and told them they were wrong, imparting their own customs on them, instead. They wanted he land for America, they wanted to eliminate the Hawaiian culture and make them as American as possible,” you say. “The Hawaiian people were a very sex positive people, but oh no, American Catholic education and their ‘no sex is the safest sex’ ideal stopped the children from living the lives they grew up expected to live. If a boy was found in a girls room doing anything in these boarding schools, they would beat the children as punishment, and probably other things that weren't even recorded. There are actually a decent number of Wikipedia pages that have had this information erased, like when you go back into the edit history. The sources, as they claimed, weren’t valid, but in reality they weren’t the Cookes’ American-centric description of these schools. They even went so far as introducing sports into the schools as ‘an antidote to the worst evil of all: sexual promiscuity,’” you comment, drawing a laugh from Matthew. “Because we all know how much athletes hate sex, right?”

You look up at Matthew, him beaming down at you as Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride starts ironically playing in the background, “Yeah, we hate that,” he whispers. You swallow hard, trying to ignore any feelings that might be coming up at the sight of Matthew biting his bottom lip.

“American’s always just insert themselves where they don’t belong,” you finish, settling your head back onto his shoulder as he pulls you closer to him.

“Why do you know all of this?” he asks.

You shrug, not really sure how to answer, “I don’t know. When I’m doing work I see one word and it sends my mind into this never ending tangent and I end up looking up stuff online and reading for hours.”

“You really are the smartest person I know,” he says with a sigh, “Why hasn’t Ev told her parents about hiding the Catholic stuff until they come?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I never asked, she just told me it was something she needed to do, so I did it with her. That’s her own cross to bear,” you say, taking a minute to realize the really bad pun you just made. “Ah! See what I did there!” you practically yell, Matthew groaning.

“On that note, I think I need to leave,” he jokes, getting up off the couch.

“Oh, come on, no!” you beg, taking him by the hand and trying to drag him back down to the couch. “I don’t want you to leave,” you let out as he pulls you off the couch.

“Really?” he asks you, sitting back down on the couch, your hands still connected.

Standing over him you nod as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him. He pulls you as close to him as you can, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Your mind flashes back to the liquor store, the feeling that came over you as he worked his way along your body like you had a feeling he was about to do again.

“Come on Matthew, you know this isn’t something we do,” you tease, even though you can’t help but look at his lips, the urge to kiss him creeping up on you as you tried desperately to suppress it. If any guy had taken you into his lap like Matthew just did, you would want to do the same thing. You were just desperate for a man, not desperate for Matthew.

“We can’t do anything?” he teases, going for your neck again. You let out a moan, praying that he doesn’t leave any more marks that you’ll have to cover up later.

“Wait,” you say to him, pulling him off of you. He looks slightly upset, not sure what to do next. ‘Ah, fuck it,’ you think to yourself, pulling his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side and returning the favor of the hickey he gave you. You suck on his skin, listening to the moans that escaped from his lips this time, feeling him grow hard the longer you were at it. He clenches his hands on your butt, pulling you even closer to him. You work your way up his neck and to his jaw, his grip getting tighter the closer you were to his lips. You had no idea what was coming over you and causing you to want to do this, but nothing in that moment felt better. Nothing in your life had ever felt better as you kissed his face the way he did to you the other day, hearing him moan more and more with every connection you made.

Your lips are millimeters from his, both of you practically begging the other for connection when you’re startled by the sound of Matthew’s phone ringing. You both laugh, foreheads pressed together. One more second and it would have happened. “I think that means our food is here.”

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters, not loud enough for you to hear as you get up to go grab the food. He couldn’t believe you just did that. He checks his neck in his phone camera, seeing it littered with the red marks you had left for him. He reaches up to touch them, smiling for some reason. There’s no way this list would work against him, would it?

You come back, him practically throwing his phone so you don’t see what he’s doing, settling down on the couch with each other eating the food. Your mind starts racing with thoughts about what just happened. There was no way you really wanted that, did you? Well, you wanted a man’s touch, but it didn’t necessarily have to be Matthew. It could be any guy.

‘I have another thing for the list,’ you text Evelina, your eyes moving between your phone screen and his hands holding his food, careful not to look up at his face.

‘Good, god, what?’

‘I hate the way he stares,’ you send her, finally looking up, not taking your eyes off Matthew as the two of you can’t help but stare at each other.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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help-im-a-gay-fish · 3 years

Text

A Touch of Soul Searching (Dark Cream story)

The following is a prequal to ‘The birth of Sun and Moon’ Which is a 3 part story about the birth of my dark cream ship kids.

This takes place in the same universe the dark cream twins Celest and Luna are from, which is separate to @zu-is-here cannon universe. The story splits off somewhere around ‘The price of Happiness’. Any continuity errors should be accepted as being part of a alternative timeline.

Synopsis: The night the twins are conceived. Cross and Dream have currently been enjoying life as an engaged couple, but there are a couple things they are yet to explore about each other. Tonight they take their relationship to a new level.

Original Cross and Dream belong to Jakei95 and Jokublog

Original Shattered Dream belongs to galacii

Based off of darkcream by @zu-is-here

Warning, may contain some suggestive elements, but nothing pushes to far.

"you like that?"

"yeah just there... j-just like that"

"alright... How about this?"

"ah! Ooooh.. Yeah... don't stop"

Cross felt his face heat slightly, as his partner sighed in satisfaction. Saying that this was embarrassing would be a huge understatement. Every movement and every sound Dream made, only caused Cross' bones to colour more, though they had been a vibrant purple ever since Dream had asked him for a back rub. He carefully ran his hands across Shattered's back, concentrating on the shoulder blades and spine.

"y-you.." he stammered, before taking a breath to steady himself "Sure carry a lot of stress in your back huh? I was surprised you still get back pain, since you don't use your tentacles much"

Dream sighed again, "yeah.... I thought my back would stop hurting after I stopped wearing my heels... Guess we were both wrong"

There was a slight wrench in Cross' soul at Dream's words.

The thought of Dream being in any kind of pain automatically upset him, even if it was as minor as back ache. The golden guardian had only ever wanted to help people, help him. He mentally cursed himself at the thought that it was him who pushed Dream over the edge in the end.

Despite his partner's constant insistence that it hadn't been him, Cross knew that he probably hadn't helped. These days he was just glad to have better emotional control, even if it wasn't perfect.

With another hint of tightness in his chest, Cross decided it was best not to lose focus on his task. His lover had a back ache and that's what massages where for right?

Dream currently lay on his front on their bed with his arms supporting his skull. Cross was sat, straddling him at the top of the back of his legs. He was leaning over him and rubbing his back with his hands.

For the most part, Dream as un aware of how awkward this pose was but Cross knew and was trying hard not to think about it. As cute and sweet as Dream’s innocence was, it could be slightly irritating sometimes.

Most people could probably tell that Cross had some mild....... frustrations. But of course Dream mattered more to him then those. He had long excepted that those kind of things may not ever be a part of their relationship, but everything else Dream offered was more then worth the sacrifice.

He calmed his thoughts and rubbed his hands with more weight against Dream. A few clicks of Dream's bones and another satisfied sigh told him he was doing a good job.

He didn't want to do anything to ruin this moment, it would have taken a lot for Dream to let his guard down enough so that Cross could do this, and he didn't want to break his trust.

It had been quite a year, but for him and Dream things were looking up, they were feeling closer again.......like before and he was starting to regain hope in the future.

As Dream felt Cross move his hands up and down his spine again, he smiled to himself. He could feel a slight warmth spread through his bones, it was a strange but good feeling. It wouldn’t last, but he was grateful to feel it anyway. Without realising, he let another sigh leave his mouth. Louder this time.

Cross paused. 'd-dam it.... Keep it together Cross' he told himself.

"Crossy?" Dream said inquisitively "are you alright?"

"......"

"Cross?"

"uhhhhhhh" Cross cleared his throat and went back to rubbing "y-yeah no worries"

Dream smiled again and nuzzled into the pillow beneath him.

"I like it when you touch me" he said softly.

If Cross hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought that Dream was doing this on purpose. But Cross knew that was impossible so he pushed thoughts from his mind and got back to work. He couldn't let his mind drift, he knew where it would drift to and somethings are much better left in a fantasy.

It was around this time Dream started to feel a little sleepy, he couldn't tell if it was due to too much positivity or if he was just relaxed. He felt more safe and at piece then he had in a long time.

However, as all things don’t, this wouldn’t last.

His feelings of peace and contentment where rewarded with a sudden dart of stinging in his soul. Sharp and angry like a snake bite. As a response he grit his teeth and arched his back, tensing his body is if trying to squeeze a poison out..

Cross once again paused and his soul flicked with worry. Yet he didn't say anything as he figured that it was the negative punishing Dream for the positive once again.

Dream always told him off for making a big deal out of it, as he was always adamant to handle it without help. Though Cross moved his hand a little is a slow circling motion on Dream’s back, in an attempt to comfort and carry his lover though the pain.

After a short while, Shattered's body untensed, and he relaxed himself into the bed sheets with a low groan.

There was silence for a while as he caught his breath.

"..... Do you want me to stop Boss?" came Cross' voice from behind him. The nickname giving Dream a sense of being back in control, even if his soul wouldn't fully let him be.

"uh... No... No its quite alright, please do continue" he said in a slightly pained voice.

Cross sighed, not wanting to press the issue further, and slowly got back to work. As he did, Dream began to feel calm again, even if he couldn't fully ignore the light throbbing from his soul. Either way, his mind start wondering. Most likely to distract from the pain at first.

He started to focus on the feelings. The feeling of Cross' hands for one. Strong, yet gentle. The low hum of his beloved's magical aura. Not something a normal monster could feel, but as an energy being he could sense its comforting buzz from anywhere. It caused him to think about the feeling of Cross being so close.

It felt so amazing to be so close to him and for their bodies to be in contact. He wondered why it had taken so long to get to point such a point of intimacy.

But then he remembered.

They had always taken things much slower then any other couples it seemed to. They'd been together for years now.... But sometimes it didn't feel like it. Why had it taken him so long to let Cross touch him like this?

He pushed himself up onto his for arms, quick as a shot. Cross stopped thinking his soul was acting up again. Dream felt himself shake a small amount. No.... It shouldn't let himself think of stupid things.

"Dream?" Cross asked, and after getting no response, he slipped off of Dream's body and sat on the bed next to him.

"hey...Day Dream what's the matter? I didn't hurt you right? is it your soul?"

Dream shook his head and flopped down onto his face like an angry child. He muttered something into the sheets.

Cross laughed nervously "I uh... Can't hear you when you keep your face pressed into the bed love"

Dream grumbled again and then rolled over onto his back.

"why did it take so long?”

“huh?”

“I mean we'd been together for over a year before the corruption stuff happened"

His fiancé gave him a puzzled look and Dream remembered that Cross had no idea what he'd been thinking about.

"Cross I mean that...." he said, pausing for a moment to figure out how to put it into words

"This is the first time you've ever touched me that way... I just feel like we should have gotten further by now"

Cross blushed "uhhh"

Dream couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of the familiar purple glow.

"You look like a glow stick" he teased.

"oi!" Cross replied "don't mock the blush when you made that blush happen"

Dream laughed and looked up at Cross with a smile, but it quickly faulted. "I mean it though Crossy..... Why so long?"

The former guards shoulders shrugged. This wasn't the kind of conversation he was prepared for.

"it's never really mattered to me, I'm happy where we are".

He's eyes met the golden guardian's "but you know I'd wait for ever for you". He moved and kissed his partner's gloopy forehead.

Dream felt love and positive emotions rush from Cross to him. It was so much that he felt dizzy for a moment. A smile couldn't help but spread across his face, despite the migraine threatening to happen. However, it still didn't make the nagging feeling go away. Running his hands along his gloopy arms, he continued to think.

Watching TV wasn't really something that Cross and he did often, but in the rare times he did, he couldn't help but notice something.

In the shows they did watch, Undernovela to name one, the people always seemed so much more intimate then he was with Cross. Their body language was a clear sign of that. And every so often they would touch each other, kiss each other, start to strip each other and then Cross normally turned it off.

Thanks to his partner, Dream had never actually seen how one of those scenes ended. It was his goal to one day watch one to completion. But for now, he could still remember the way they began at least.

This kind of closeness and touching..... Him and Cross had never really done that. It hadn't bothered him in the past, but right now he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"...... Cross?"

"yeah?"

"I want you to kiss me, but do it like they do in the movies"

At this point Cross was sure that someone could have cooked an egg on his face.

"w-what do you mean?!"

After thinking for a moment, Dream said, slightly unsure, "passion and a little heat I guess"

Cross pulled his turtle neck up over his face slightly "a-are you sure"

Suddenly laughter filled the room, coming from Dream. Seeing Cross like this was amazing. Something about it was just so hilarious. Comparing this blusy mess to the grumpy, cold persona Cross used to put up. It was just to much.

"oh my goodness! You are so embarrassed right now!"

Some slight frustration bubbled in Cross as Shattered laughed at him. But this was soon replaced with a playful hunger. Well.... If he wants to be kissed like that...

As Dream laughed, he felt as Cross climb on top of him and pin his wrists next to his head. He paused and looked up at him, feeling his face get burning hot.

"looks like you’re the glow stick now~" Cross said with a sly smirk. Dream glared, but his face got hotter.

"you want me to kiss you like they do in the movies?" he said, leaning in closer to Dreams face.

He had a playful look in his eyes and his hands gripped Dream's wrists slightly harder.

His emotions and feelings weren't feelings Dream could easily identify or recognise. As much as a part of him hated to admit it, he liked this side to Cross. The dominance was strangely attractive.

Cross could sometimes be so gentle and passive that Dream felt like Cross thought he was breakable. This was different. Cross was being a bit more forward and Dream felt a little excited.

"Yes please....." the smaller skeleton replied.

With that Cross kissed him. If Dream had felt like he melted when Cross kissed him before, it was nothing compared to this.

There was more passion and heat coming from this then he'd ever felt in his whole life. He couldn't help but let out a slight muffled moan.

That noise was new.... In fact this whole thing was new, it brought a whole lot of new feelings. He felt the need to wrap his arms around Cross and keep him there but of course Cross still had his arms pinned.

Cross leaned forward more, he couldn’t think of a time he’d every enjoyed kissing someone more, so much so he was starting to forget himself. So he deepened. He slipped his tongue inside Dreams mouth slyly and ran it around hungerly.

Feeling this, Dream opened his eyes wide. This sensation was very alien to him and he shuddered starting to feel a slight panic rising. His soul started racing and his body trembled. This was making him feel suddenly very strange and vulnerable. It was to much. To much to much! No stop!

Luckily, Cross noticed his partner's discomfort and parted the kiss. Now Shattered’s mouth was free, he took some long deep breaths.

After a brief moment of confusion, Cross realised what had probably freaked Dream out.

He felt like an complete idiot, you had to go slow with Dream. Dream didn't have a lot of experience with that kind of thing, of course over sensitising him would upset him. He should have known better. Cursing himself, he let go of Shattered and got off him, sitting beside him.

"sorry....I..... Are you alright?"

Dream continued to take deep breaths, to calm his soul and nodded. His body was all warm and funny feeling. Now he was thinking clearer, it wasn't bad really, but it was very very new and strange.

"y-your tounge got broken again" he said before taking another deep breath.

"...... yeah.... I know, I got a little carried away, I won't do it again. I promise"

Dream could sense a lot of guilt coming from Cross. There was still many feelings he didn't recognise, but guilt was among them. Cross felt that often enough that Dream could recognise it easily.

Did he feel bad for upsetting him? That was silly... Dream had asked him to kiss him that way.

He seemed to feel really bad though. His dark side, flipped in delight at the negative emotions to snack on. But despite that, Dream didn't like Cross feeling like that.

The kiss had been really good! Really really good. It had just been a lot of new feelings.

He didn't want Cross to feel bad and he didn't want Cross to be afraid to do it again. In fact the thought of Cross going back to treating him like he was breakable made him feel upset. He was a very good kisser after all.

"Cross it's OK you know" he said, sitting up.

Cross looked at him with a guilty face. Dream cupped his cheek with his hand.

"I really liked it Crossy! I promise"

Cross smiled slightly.

"you just caught me a little off guard, that's all" he said softly.

He leaned over and nuzzled Cross' face

"I still Love you so much so don't worry about that!"

A light chuckle left Cross' mouth "I know Daydream, I love you so much too"

More pain, yet the smaller ignored it and continued to nuzzle him.

"just a little bit of warning next time, OK?"

Yeah that sounded alright. Cross thought and nuzzled his partner back. Next time...

Wait next time!?

"Next time!?" he exclaimed pulling back.

"yeah next time" Dream said with a puzzled look slipping onto his face "we are gonna do this again right?"

Dream narrowed his eyes, Cross was giving him a 'deer in the headlights' look. He could tell what he was thinking though. He was once again to afraid to hurt him.

"Cross... I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to listen to me" he said in a firm tone.

Cross sheepishly nodded

"I want to be able to be valuable around you, but I can't because it will just prove to you that you need to protect me.... I don't need a guard I need a-

-partner" Cross said, cutting him off.

Dream paused before replying "yes exactly"

Cross' eyes glanced for a moment at Dream's ankle. "I.... I know that Dreamboat I just-

"my ankle...." Dream said cutting in.

"huh"

Shattered shifted his feet "you were thinking about what happened with Killer again..... Weren't you?"

"......."

Protesting wouldn't have helped. Dreams gaze was cutting into him, there was no use lying.

"yeah......"

Shifting his feet again, Dream let out a defeated sigh.

"You know that I could totally take on killer these days..... You can't just" he shifted his foot again "........ You still see me as how you saw me back then?"

Cross faltered slightly and avoided his partner's gaze.

Dream seemed slightly irritated now

"I'm not the same being I was back then, and neither are you." Dream said plainly and before Cross could reply he added.

"when you still treat me like that..... It makes me feel like I can't be weak around you..... That I can't show myself to you..."

Guilt radiated from Cross, as the former positively guardian spoke. It felt like a knife twisting in him. He was always so afraid to hurt Dream, that sometimes he was to afraid to do anything. To put it bluntly, he had no reason to really feel this way, the gloopy being could easily snap his neck if he desired to.

"Dream.... I never thought I'd ever get to be with someone as amazing as you... I don't want to lose you, I very almost did"

It was Dreams turn to tense now.

"one moment I tell myself that you are strong...... So strong you don't even need me! But the next...." Cross sighed in a defeated way and sagged his shoulders.

He felt like anything he could say would just be an excuse at this point. There were so many thoughts and feelings he didn't know how to properly explain them. So instead he said the first thing that came to mind.

"you.... Sometimes you are still a bit of a kid really". The moment he said it, he hated himself for saying it. Though in that moment he'd forgotten Dream could read his emotions.

A frown crept onto Dreams face, upon recognising the negative cocktail brewing in Cross. This was an important issue in their relationship, but it was probably best not to press it much further now. His inner excitement at his partner's emotions was making Dream feel a little sick, so he couldn't bare to draw out this conversation more. Instead, he portend scoffed at the conversation.

"a kid? Me? Ha!" he said, his voice being playful and inviting Cross to play along.

Catching onto the playful tone, Cross smiled.

"Well I'm sorry to tell you this Boss, but you are as naïve as a small child around most matters"

Shattered pretend gasped "How dare you!" he put his hands on his hips "I will have you know that I have grown up knowledge!"

Cross raised an eyebrow "like what?"

Dream's smile told Cross that he'd been wanting him to say that. "well I know that a honeymoon isn't going to the moon and eating honey." he stated.

"oh really?" Cross said, laughing slightly.

"yep!" Dream said proudly. Before leaning in close to Cross like a child sharing a secret.

"I even know that people do lots of grown up stuff on honey moons! I don't know what these grown up things are.... But I know people do them"

Cross let out a low chuckle at that and Shattered was thrilled to see that Cross felt better, even with another bitter ache running through his core as a result.

"I know Dream boat..... The angry baby is all grown up" he teased.

Poking his tounge out, Dream booped Cross' nose

"He is indeed! And as a grown up he wants you to treat him as an equal"

Cross let out a proper laugh now.

Dream felt momentarily satisfied. But it wasn't quiet enough.

It looked to him like Cross wanted to continue the game....well he did have one more trick, since he was feeling playful. His face twisted into a thin smile and his eye gleamed.

"although....." he said in a low voice, leaning forward towards Cross. Gloved hands moved off the bed and ran themselves slowly long Cross' leg bones.

"if you want.... I could try taking a bit more of a dormant roll" he purred.

More heat instantly rushed to Cross' face, at the sudden contact. The mood had well and truly changed. It was a warm purple blush that hadn't left him since they started this whole thing.

Sliding his hands to Cross' hips slowly, Dream moved forward a bit again. Shattered took great pleasure in Cross' face of embarrassment. There was a part of him that missed doing this. He missed the tease. The delicious feast of emotions radiating from his partner. Cross should have known that Dream always won when they played.

Cross felt as Dream's hands place themselves on his ribs. The fingers curling in the fabric of his jumper. He shivered under Dreams touch and his two coloured eyes locked with Dreams. He tried to say something, but could only stammer.

With that Dream broke. He couldn't take it anymore, snorting and bursting out laughing again. He was just too easy to fluster, it was brilliant. He fell over onto his side, his body convulsing against their bed in his laughter.

"you should see the look on your face right now!" he said, losing the smoothness of his tone and returning to his jolly happy voice.

Cross set up straight as stiff as a board and chest flushed out slightly "Dream! are you trying to give me a heart attack!?"

Dream smirked "oh no, your boss is just having a little fun with you~"

Cross shook his head "you are just terrible sometimes".

He smiled "you're lucky that I've been in love with you for years"

With a sigh Dream sat back up. "Feeling better now my love?" he asked gently. Cross nodded.

"yeah...I'm sorry for getting all freaked out, I just...."

"..... Just?" Dream prompted.

"my magic and emotions can sometimes be a little..... Unstable.... If I lose control, if I hurt you...."

And there is was, just like it always was, Cross' fear of hurting him. It seemed that they had circled back round again.

"if I may quote myself,... if only you could" Dream said with a soft smile appearing on his face.

"I know you couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to"

Cross sighed and took a moment to reflect. He knew that Dream was right. Dream had said the same thing to him many times in the past. Maybe the past was the problem.

"sometimes I still see you as the same skeleton I fell in love with all those years ago" Cross said.

Dream rolled his eyes slightly "I'm pretty sure the 2 pounds of gloopy slime is enough evidence that I'm not"

The two where able to share a laugh this time.

“still...” Cross said, calming his laughter.

"even with a black liquorice coating, you have the same sweet centre you always have".

"...."

"Your soul is enveloped in negativity, but it's still pure from the inside out..."

As much as Dream wanted to, he couldn't stop the warmness in his cheek bones. But also, his chest twisted at Cross' sweet words.

"heh..." he chuckled "you wouldn't say that if you could see it"

The attempt self depreciating humour had been in an effort to make himself feel less awkward. But instead it made a lump form in his throat.

However, he chose to double down.

"y-you'd be repulsed at the sight of me" he stated placing his gloved hand on his chest and tugging slightly at the fabric.

"I don't think so"

Dream looked up.

"Cross I know what I'm talking abou-

"then show me"

Dreams grip on the fabric of his collar tightened. "what" he breathed.

"you are beautiful.... Inside and out.... I want to prove that"

He sounded so sure. Firm, but not forceful. There was a look of determination that Dream could recognise in his eyes.

His fingers once again tugged at his collar, though this time he could also feel the hum of the magic gathered under his ribs. He told himself he was mad for considering this, but a determined Cross was as stubborn as a mule. He wouldn't let this go, so it was probably best to get it over with.

"ok....." he whispered.

After telling himself to be a grown up and bite the bullet, he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the soul from his chest.

Shattered scrunched his shoulders and waited.

He waited for Cross to be disgusted or repulsed by the sight of his rotten soul. For him to tell him to put it away. But Cross didn't say that. In fact, as Dream opened his good eye, he saw the guard has a look of wonder on his face, taken in by the beauty of it. It was unlike anything Cross had ever seen.

"beautiful..." he said in a near whisper, which immediately caused Dreams face to flush, both out of embarrassment and surprise.

But Cross didn't notice as his gaze was still fixed on the soul.

"Does it.." he said softly "does it hurt?"

Dreams face dropped into a frown. He nodded "more then you can imagine"

He avoided Cross' eye contact, but felt Cross' sadness. Then he felt something else. Something softly bush against his soul.

He jumped and fixed his gaze to Cross again. Cross sheepishly retracted his hand. He'd been reaching forward to touch the soul and now he felt like an idiot. Dream just stared at him, mulling over what had just happened.

"i-i-im sorry I...." Cross stuttered. What was he thinking? Why did he do that? He had no right to touch Dream's soul. His partner had finally felt confident enough to show him it and he'd pushed to far.

What was wrong with him today?!

"I d-don't know why I-

But then he was shushed by a gloved finger being pressed to his mouth.

"shhhh... Don't speak" Dream purred softly.

If Cross' face could get any hotter, in that moment it did. Dream pulled his hand away from his mouth and took Cross' hand in his. He guided Cross' hand up to his soul.

"I want you to touch it"

He must have miss heard him right? There was no way..... But as Dream spread his fingers and allowed them to wrap around the soul, it became very clear that he hadn't.

Cross wanted to say something, do something... Anything. But he was so afraid to ruin it. This moment felt so breakable, one wrong move could send there progress backwards. But he knew he had to say something.

"a-are" he calmed his nerves "are you sure?"

"You are scared Cross.... I know you are, but if any one will ever touch me like this, I only want it to be you"

Shattered himself struggled to keep his voice from shaking. He'd never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he was also full of anticipation.

Cross' fingers where only lightly around him, hardly touching, it was like he was teasing him.

Cross closed his fingers around the soul slightly more, Dream shuddered as he did.

"if you want me to stop at any point Dreamboat, say apple ok?"

"Apple?" Dream asked, tilting his head "A code word?"

Cross nodded.

"Alright" he said, bracing himself for the pending contact "If I want you to stop, I'll say Apple"

And with that Cross began. He made sure to go slow, timidly running his fingers against it. It pulsed in his hand slightly, the magical energy felt warm and comforting.

Dreams body gave a lurch as Cross started and he squeezed his eyes shut. This was new, very very new.

For a moment he was tempted to say apple, being slightly overwhelmed. But as he started to get used to the feelings he was being presented with, he relaxed. Opening his eye sockets again he saw his partner looking at him with a very worried expression.

He'd stopped.

"I... I..." Dream said trying to catch his breath "I didn't say apple"

Cross nodded and took that as a sign to keep going.

Dream leaned forward and rested his head on Cross' shoulder. As alien sensations continued to fill him, he weakly gripped the front of Cross' jumper. His fingers curled into the fabric and tugged slightly.

These feelings overcoming him where strange but incredible to feel. He all at once felt weaker and stronger then he ever had and he wanted more.

He gripped the jumper tighter and pulled himself up to Cross' eye level. Their eyes locked together as Dream felt Cross' fingers continue to gently stroke the soul. Cross' face was that of excitement, confusion and nervousness.

Dream looked down to Cross' broad chest and he started to run his hands across it. His partner tense and then relaxed as he did. Being this close, Dream took a moment to appreciate Cross' ribs.

He'd seen them a few times but now, as he traced them through his jumper with his fingers, he'd truly noticed how handsome of a skeleton Cross was. Without realising, he started to pull up Cross' shirt up slightly.

But Cross immediately caught Shattered's hands in his own and pushed them back down.

"l-let's leave clothes on.... ok?"

Dream gave a disgruntled wine at the fact that Cross had let go of his soul. His fingers let go of Cross' jumper and he leaned back a bit.

He was about to ask why he’d stopped him, when he noticed Cross' emotions being strange.

They were new and very very intense.

There was something carnal brewing in the soldier, and it was clearly making Cross nervous.

"are you ok?" Dream questioned, feeling worried.

"I've just..." he said nervously "I've never done this before"

"you think I have?" Dream retorted

"what! No, of course not" Cross replied.

He twisted his locket on his fingers "I-I've done intimate things with people before... Not much mind you" a brighter purple hue decorated his face.

",... But this?....this is more intimate then I've ever been with a person"

Dream tilted his head slightly and frowned.

"I guess... I’m just a little nervous Dreamy"

Dream gently took his chin in his free hand and tilted his head upwards. He'd give Cross a soft and tender kiss on the mouth. He felt Cross melt a bit, which made him smile into the kiss.

He pulled back and smiled wider "it will be alright.. I trust you completely"

His tone was sweet and caused Cross' soul to thump. He considered how he'd had a hold on Dreams soul just moments before and wondered how it had felt to Dream.

Dream placed Cross' hands on his hips now and placed his back on the guards chest. Cross tensed under his grip but didn't move his hands. Dream used this as an opportunity to move himself closer to cross, to try and close the gap between them. Cross' soul was beating against his hand through his chest and it tweaked at Dream's curiosity.

Cross moved his hands up slightly to where he could feel the base of Dreams ribs through his clothes. There was no doubt in his mind that Dream was unaware of what kind of things he was doing to him right now and he had no intention of taking advantage.

The way Dream was acting was something he'd only seen his most shameful fantasies that this point, so much so that he was fighting to keep grip on his imagination. The more he fought the more anxious he felt.

"Cross why are you so tense?" Dream questioned, which turned Cross' attention back on him.

It was only when he tried to relax, that Cross noticed how tense he'd become.

"do you need to say apple?" came Dreams sweet voice again. Cross pondered the question for a moment, then slowly nodded.

The moment he saw Cross nod, Dream shifted his body away and removed his hands from his chest. Through Cross was sad to lose the hold he had on Dream, he felt mostly relieved as his soul continued to thump.

"I could feel your soul beating very fast...." Dream said, "did I do something wrong?"

He seemed quite nervous now himself. Cross sighed and placed his hand on his chest, over where is heart would be if he had one.

"n-no you didn't" he said taking a few deep breaths "I'm just not sure what you wanted to do from here".

That was a good question. Dream had mostly been letting his instincts drive him. What was it that he wanted? He pondered this, tapping his finger against his own chest, where his soul had returned, as if mimicking the beat of Cross' soul. Then he realised.

"I want to touch your soul"

Whatever Cross had been expecting or thinking, hadn't been anywhere near that. That wasn't something he'd ever even considered.

His soul was a mess, he knew that. His first thought was to refuse, but as he looked again into Dream's eyes, his resistance faltered.

Shattered was looking at him with a soft expression. Not one he'd truly seen in the longest time. The transformation had changed Dreams eyes from what they once were. But in that moment Dream's gaze was every bit as warm and welcoming as it had once been those years ago.

Not only did it help ease away any desires to resist, but it also helped him to calm is own self down. Dream had always had a way of calming him, whether it be though touch or words. It was a sense of calm unlike another.

It was his vulnerability that Dream was asking for and his complete trust. His soul wasn't just something that he willing showed to anyone.... But Dream wasn't just anyone.

What was happening between then tonight was very special. It was something far beyond the intimacy of sex and that meant it was something so much better.

He smiled softly and nodded, resting his hand on his own chest. Dream smiled and sat back on his feet, waiting expectantly.

Feeling the throb of the magic gathered in his ribs, Cross' anxiety crept in slightly. But he took a long, deep breath and allowed his magic to pull the glowing mass of energy and determination from under his jumper.

He glanced down at the formless substance in his hand as the magic swirled into forming the rough shape of a heart. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of red and white, then looked back at Dream.

His partner was watching him very closely and Dream's focused face told him he was trying to read his emotions.

"it's not much to look at......" he stated, as Dream continued to stare

"it's perfect" the guardian said softly. "because its you"

As Dream had anticipated, there was a wave of positivity from Cross which hit Dream like a bucket of boiling water, sending a deep burning feeling through his bones. He tensed his knuckle, but didn't react in any other way. Closing his eyes, he took a breath.

"thank you...."

Cross' voice caused him to open his eyes again.

"h-here....." the soldier said softly, moving his hand and soul into Dream's reach.

It was a small amount of time before the burning fully subsided and Dream slowly moved his gloved hand forwards.

With as much care as he could muster, he took the essence from Cross' fingers.

The soul felt strange. Not quite solid and not quite un solid. It was like a combination of all 3 states. Gas, liquid and solid.

The incorporeal essence felt pleasant in his hand, and he had a strong desire to remove his gloves to feel it properly. But he didn't feel quite relaxed enough to show Cross his hands state. So Instead he contracted his index finger to give the soul a conservative stroke. The reaction from his companion was audible. Not a sound that he was familiar with, but one he felt the desire to hear again.

He didn't look up at Cross, but when the skeleton saw the way Dream was smiling as he observed his soul, he felt extremely jittery. The anxiety was raising in his chest again and sticking an acidy taste in the back of his throat. But he didn't dare say a word to stop Dreams actions.

Again the former positive being, ran his finger up and down, across the surface. Once more he enjoyed the sounds that came from Cross. But now, he felt a need for more. To see how far he could push.

So cautiously, he nuzzled it, feeling as the warm magic brushed against his face. The warmth was very pleasant and conforming.

It vibrated in his fingers as he squeezed it lightly, smiling as Cross gasped in response. A little bit of teasing was always fun.

Even if Cross denied it, Dream knew he loved to be teased. Again he flexed his fingers and nuzzled the magic. There was a light hum in his own chest as he did so, followed by a very slight pain which he ignored. His eye moved to looking at his partner, hoping to see a reaction.

Cross was sat with his legs crossed and his shoulders hunched. From what Dream could sense he was enjoying himself and knowing Cross, he was probably trying not to enjoy himself to much. The purple blush had travelled down his neck now, not quite as vibrant, but still.

He shivered at the feeling of Dreams breath against him.

Getting an idea, Dream nipped the mass in his hand in a playful way, being delighted by the yelp Cross made. He made sure to catch Cross' eye, before smirking devilishly and placing a soft kiss on the soul's surface.

Then, after a short moment of intense eye contact, he chuckled slightly and moved his hand with the soul away from his mouth.

"alright, I'll stop"

The soldier breathed a sigh of relief, despite being slightly disappointed. As embarrassing as that was, he'd by lying if said he didn't enjoy it.

Dream reached his hand out and offered the soul back to Cross. As Cross went to take it, Dream clenched his fingers around it slightly.

"Dream?" Cross ask, worried that Dream was going to start teasing him again.

Dream on the other hand was thinking quite a lot, as he continued to feel the warm magic in his fingers. There was something going on with his own soul, he could feel it, a kind of throbbing, humming, something.

After a while, Dream let go of Cross' soul and Cross took it back, holding it in his own hand.

As Cross carefully returned it to his chest, Shattered's soul burned slightly. A realisation of what the feeling in his soul was, hit Dream like a slap in the face. It was a desire for more.

Dream caught Cross' arm "Wait!"

Cross froze and stared at his lover.

"I want...." Dream started, being unable to figure out how to say what he wanted. This kind of thing wasn't something he was accustomed to and it wasn't something he'd taken the time to research or understand better in the past. He'd only been a child back then after all.

At that very moment he wished he could ask his twin for help. But he forcefully pushed that wish from his mind before he could think about it for to long.

It had probably been touching Cross' soul which had awoke a long dormant piece of him, something he'd never have thought anyone would make him feel.

"I want our souls to..."

He placed his hand on his chest and pulled out the still rotting apple. Yet this time the magic was less of a solid shape. It had been reduced to a swirling mass of gold and black, which flickered around his fingers like flames.

The former guard stared in both wonder and concern at the new sight.

"..... I want our souls to be one"

Silence.

A very loud silence. Cross could do nothing but look from Dreams face to his soul then back again. After repeating that a few times he looked away.

There was probably about one thousand different thoughts going through the soldier's mind. The request... The implications and what the act itself would involve.

It was in essence soul sex. Just that realisation made his face burn. It was something he'd heard of in the past, but not something most monsters took part in. Only a few tried it, as he'd heard it could have extreme consequences.

He fixed his gaze back to being directly in Dreams eyes. The skeleton seemed nervous, but he also seemed quite sure.

He sat, arm out slightly, with his soul flicking in his palm. It was almost like he was offering it to Cross. A temptation.

Yet, Cross was still wildly unsure how to react. Every possible way that he could respond, ran though his head so fast, it was impossible to pick one. Yes? No? Maybe? What was it that Dream actually wanted him to do? Did Dream even fully understand what he was asking? What if some bad happ-

But then, before he could finish that thought, he became distracted. Dream closed his eyes and took a long deep breath, his fingers tightening around his own soul slightly. He sighed in a near meditative way. It was this that got Cross to focus on him again.

After a few short moments he opened his good eye slowly and again, looked directly at Cross. The gold of his eye was truly mesmerising and matched the soul perfectly, the same colour as a forbidden treasure.

Then, slowly Dream moved again, reached his free hand forward and placing it on Cross' chest. For a moment he felt Cross' mock-heartbeat under his hand, never breaking eye contact.

It was still silent in the room, but less of a loud kind. It was comfortable and more soft.

Dream's fingers lightly gripped Cross' jumper, as he studded his face for a sign of resistance.

He didn't move again and only continued to feel the beat. His face remained serious, but gentle... As if he was asking permission.

Cross could feel his soul beating against Dreams hand, and could see that Dream's soul was beating in rhythm with it. Connected.

Slowly, he placed his own hand on his chest, over Dream's.

"ok.... "

He didn't need to say anything else. It was a simple word, but it the perfect one.

Together they drew their hands back, pulling forth a string of magic with it. Once it had formed its shape Dream moved his hand back to his own soul.

".... ok..... " Dream said softly "are you ready?"

"Yes" Cross replied, but after picking up on some slight hesitation, he asked "Are you?"

"......... I..."

It was Dream's turn to get lost in thought now. He suddenly felt very scared at the prospect of what he was doing. He tried to relax himself, to no effect. Maybe he couldn't do this.

"it's ok to change your mind"

Dream would never know how such simple words, could make him feel so good. This wasn't a random person he was doing this with. It was Cross. His soldier, his partner. The one who made him feel truly safe. That thought granted him true courage.

He smiled

"... I don't need to, I'm ready"

With that, it was time to begin.

In the flickering state his soul was in, Dream's soul was clearly drawn to Cross' as they were moved closer together.

The two skeletons watched carefully at the display of red and gold light and guided both souls to the point of almost touching. Once the souls fused, they couldn't be separated by force, this was the last chance to back out. But neither did, and nodded to one another, moving their hands away and allowing the souls to take over.

It felt like a life time before the two souls finally touched.

Cross grit his teeth as an attempt to prevent himself from letting out some inappropriate noises. Though he could prevent them all. Luckily, Dream didn't seem to notice this. He was lost in his own feelings and his hand gripped his fingers into the fabric of the bed sheets.

"¡Oh Dios! santa mierda" he hissed, before groaning slightly.

In a normal situation Cross would have been shocked to hear his beloved curse. However in that moment he wasn't bothered in the slightest

"yeah... Y-you said it my love" Cross replied, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself.

No sooner had he gotten used to the sensations he was being presented with, then the souls sparked and pulsed pushing together more. Both skeletons felt this and let out some strained wines, yet there was more to come, as it was nowhere near over yet.

Dream closed his eyes to allow himself to lose himself in the sensation again. It was something so new. But unlike earlier, new didn't feel scary. It felt right. Opening his eyes again, he looked at Cross. He wanted to be closer to him.

He shifted his legs and shuffled on the bed. Noticing his movement, Cross copied so that they were once again sat across from each other.

Cross leaned forward and touched their foreheads together, feeling the coldness of Dream's crown on his warm bones.

"h-how" Cross said with a shaky breath "how you d-doing?"

"Placer más allá de las palabras" Dream basically panted, pulling back a bit so his head away from Cross. His face was flushed and his expression caught up in bliss. Cross couldn't help but match his smile and reached out to stroke his partner's cheek, brushing some gloop away.

For a moment they just enjoyed this simple contact and Dream turned to nuzzle Cross' fingers. Such a small act, but it made more warmth spread through Cross.

It was then that this moment was interrupted by there souls once again pulsing together. As the magic curled around each other, both parties felt more heat and sighed out each others names.

Their hands found each others and gripped together, hanging on for dear life as the magic continued to swell and then the souls pushed together all the way.

This stole the air right out of both of them. It was real now. They were connected. After a moment they locked eyes and not a second later Dream spoke.

"¡Bésame ahora!"

Cross didn't hesitate for a moment.

In a flash their mouths where pressed together in the sweet agony of a passionate kiss. They were over whelmed now and over come with strong desires.

The kiss continued, as they moved from sitting, to rolling around on the bed sheets. The fabric wrapping around their legs and tangling their limbs together. How they ended up there? Neither could tell you. Who was on top? Neither could say.

Dreams crown knocked off and fell to the floor with a clang as the two continued. Neither noticed or cared. They were lost in the sensations and in the feeling of each other at this point.

There was no crown. No curse. No anything. Just each other and that was it. There was nothing either of them wanted more then to express that.

Not Cross or Dream could tell you how long it lasted. All they knew is by the time there souls had separated they were completely tangled in each other.

It was quite an awkward pose to get out of, as they un-weaved their legs and arms. The awkward silence turned into the two breaking into a fit of laughter as Cross couldn't fight his legs free of the blanket.

In the end they managed to separate and lay down next to each other. Not a word was spoken as they stared face to face, enjoying the euphoria and the sound of the other breathing. It was like the ending of a rom com, where the two main characters have that perfect soft moment with each other. It was that perfect moment.

As the magic settled and they slowly fell asleep in each others arms, they had no idea the path they had set in motion. Or who would be greeting them a short while later.

,<3

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

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Hiiii yes!!! I absolutely love the way you write!! I'm so glad I accidentally stumbled across your blog!!! If it's okay, may I ask for some nsfw headcanons with Beelzebub and Mammon (separately) with a VERY sub female s/o? Completely fine if not tho!! Keep up with the amazing work!!!

Say Hiiii so yes I saw that you write nsfw now and uhhhhhhh, may I ask for some headcanons with Beel x a very sub!f!reader? Completely fine if not!!! Thank you :) hewwo 💕nsfw for the obey me boys with a really sub mc who just wants to be dominated?

(idk if i wrote the fandom, so sending it twice, sorry) nsfw headcanons for obey me with a sub/bottom reader

—

I hope nobody minds, but I got 4 different asks with the same type of request, so I’m mashing them together

Also, I really hope any NSFW stuff I write is okay! I’m really not that great at writing it, so I hope you all enjoy this!

Lucifer

( I’m so happy that I got this sticker okay - And the other side of the card now, too, thanks Devil Flower! )

Lucifer is the epitome of a dominant top, so he’s perfect for you, especially if you WANT him to dominate you.

He doesn’t even try, it only comes natural to him - Everything about him - His gaze, his composure, his self-esteem, his pride, his confidence, his aura, his stature, everything about him SCREAMS dominant.

While yes, he will be having you squirming under him, a moaning mess calling our his name with no inhibitions or shame, he will still hold himself back the first few times, until/if he knows your boundaries, kinks and fetishes.

Lucifer would either have you undress for him, slowly, to admire your whole body, or would tease you with his ungloved hands by tracing every curve of your body with gentle and soft touches that make you want more.

His kisses are out of this world, hot and passionate with a small tint of rough, but never messy.

He actually loves biting your bottom lip, tugging on it slightly, teasing you a lot, loving to hear your whimper.

Prepare for either multiple orgasms, or a lot of edging and orgasm denial, because unless you’re begging for your sweet release, you won’t have any mercy from this one.

—

Mammon

Despite having a huge power bottom or submissive energy, he won’t care what role he has to do, as long as you’re enjoying it.

He has some big self-esteem issues, but honestly, if you two are having fun in bed, then he really trusts you a lot, and he won’t think or feel down in any way, so he will focus only on you and your pleasure.

He loves you so much that he wants to make sure you get multiple orgasms, he wants you to be happy, to love him, to enjoy being in his arms, to enjoy his touch.

He loves the Missionary position, if he has to top, because he can hold you close to his body, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, forehead, lips, neck, jawline and cleavage as much as he wants.

Mammon loves seeing your cheeks get pink and when you look away as you’re feeling good and shift around, panting for air or biting your lip, trying to hide your moans.

Expect a loooot of compliments and body-worship because this boy literally venerates the ground you walk on, that’s how much he loves you, and he will do anything to make sure you’re happy, and you know you’re perfect inside and out, and that you’re more beautiful than any star, in his eyes.

—

Leviathan

With Levi, it takes long until he gets riled up enough for him to be a DomTop, especially since he’s such a SubBot, a little blushy tsundere who likes to have someone dominate/top him, since it will spare him a lot of embarrassment.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s a bad DomTop, on the contrary, if he’s in the mood, he will be the best guy you’ve ever made love with.

It’s enough for him to see you in a short skirt, thigh highs, cute hairstyles that look anime-ish, or any cosplay/clothes with cosplay potential, and that’s it, he’s your guy for the whole night, he won’t leave you alone.

He’d put you in his lap and caress your thighs up and down, muttering how beautiful you are, and how much he wants to make love to you, hold you close to his chest, slowly undress you, pinching every inch of your body, commenting how much he loves every party of you and how beautiful you are.

Levi would make sure to kiss your lips and neck a lot, not caring if he leaves hickeys, mostly because he sees you enjoying those kisses so he doesn’t think about anything else, having it as an incentive to keep on going.

Say his name, say how much you love him, say how good he’s making you feel, and oh boy, you will see Valhalla in a way you’ve never dreamt of.

Also, he’s VERY good with his hands…Fingers…Thanks to all the gaming he’s done, and he’s veeeeery patient, and will know every little inch of your body and how it reacts, and you better bet that he’ll take advantage of that, only to hear your cute squeaks or whimpers.

—

Satan

He can either be super gentle, or super rough, depending on how you like it.

He’s a gentleman and he cares a lot about your pleasure, so he won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with or dislike.

As well as that, Satan is afraid he’ll unintentionally hurt you by being too rough, since he’s a demon and compared to humans, he sometimes doesn’t realise the difference in strength, so he’d rather be gentle and know that you’re enjoying it, than seeing crude bruises or scratches.

He enjoys being a top and loves teasing you so much, being a lot into senses-play, so blindfolds, a bit of playful messing around, soft touches, messy kisses, he just wants both of you to have fun, so if you giggle and then moan, godamn, you’re killing his heart.

Satan likes hearing your voice while making love to you, and even more, when he’s in the prelude mode, just enjoying how wet he can get you only with his words, touches and kisses.

Sometimes, however, he can’t resist your charm too much, seeing you so vulnerable and ready to take him, so he doesn’t tease you too much, enough to beg and whimper for him, he will go right at it when he knows you’re ready and will rock your world like never before.

Your innocence is such a turn on, and the thought of somehow tainting you, in a devilish way, makes him want to do filthy things with you, enough for you to never want to let go of him, to never get enough of him, and love only him.

—

Asmodeus

Avatar of Lust? God of Lust? God of Love? God of Pleasure?

Honestly, Asmodeus is everything you would ever wish for in a love partner.

He makes you feel safe and secure, he makes you feel beautiful and love, and will give you enough self-confidence for you to be able to speak out anything you want.

There’s a weird fetish you have? Okay, Asmo’s gonna make sure he integrates it next time you make love.

You want to try out a new kink, but you’re ashamed or scared of it? No worries, Asmo will be gentle, and there is nobody more knowledgeable in this department, so you know everything he says is legit.

You just want to have a tender and passionate love-session with him, where all he does is pamper you and makes you feel loved? Yep, Asmo will be more than happy to ensure that happens.

You want to go rough and get dominated in a filthy way? No shame, Asmo will dirty talk in your ear how much of a slut you are for his dick with no problem or second thought.

He will NEVER judge you for anything you do in bed, and it only stays between the two of you, although he’s never going to shy away from complimenting you outside of your bedroom and saying how lovely you were and all that.

As well as that, Asmo would like to make sure you are pampered before and after your love-session, so he will make you do the whole skin-care routine with him, including a rose-bath with a glass of rose-wine or champagne.

Asmo is always very attentive at your every need, even if he doesn’t seem like that while at it, but it’s thanks to his experience that he doesn’t need to think about anything, and he can still make you scream his name with no real effort.

—

Beelzebub

(( I just got this too hnnnng, but no Alice in Devildom event card from Draw 10, I’m mad, lemme cry ))

He’s a very chill baby, so he won’t really care much about dom or sub, top or bot, basically, he’s a switch and will do whatever you’re comfortable with.

If he’s on top, he’ll be a bit wary because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, either from his demon strength, his huge body, or the fact that he constantly works out, so he’s even physically stronger than average.

Beel is very soft and will put your needs above his own, so he would give you so many tender kisses, will ask if you’re okay and feeling good, will touch you a lot, and of course, he will eat you out like there’s no tomorrow, provided you’re okay with it.

He will make sure you cum a few times before he goes further, wanting to be extra sure that you’re okay at all times, that he won’t hurt you, that he won’t be too rough without realising and all that.

Honestly, Beel is such a loving babe, he doesn’t believe in roles and anything of the sort, he lets emotion take over him, and makes sure to pleasure you, and if he sees you like it, he’ll continue with even more passion.

Can go on all night with no problem, but will go for as long as you’re able to, since human stamina isn’t as high as demon stamina.

He just really wants to love you and show you in any way possible that his feelings for you are infinite, so at the end, he will hold you tight to his chest, kissing your forehead and playing with your hair soothingly, staying awake until you fall asleep, just happy that he can look at you and indulge in your beauty and the fact that you really love him as much as he loves you.

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alderoo · 3 years

Text

Nobody Real

This is from when I was bored awhile ago, and now, seeing as I have many other fics in the works i suppose i should get around to posting this here.

I was really angry when I wrote this. Like REALLY angry so uhhhhhhh have fun with my pain?

Description: Warriors says something that he shouldn’t have, and Legend gets upset. Then someone unexpected comes to help him.

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586058/chapters/67482725

Legend knew that he shouldn’t have walked out like that. He knew that he should’ve stayed and apologized and let the others know that he’s not that much of an asshole and that he knows how to treat people nicely and that he just snapped- no. He also knew that if he had stayed there any longer someone would’ve ended up with a black eye.

The stream that he sat by did little to calm his aching body. The anger coursed through him and boiled his blood and stained every innocent part of his mind until he was so tense that he wondered how he didn’t pop a blood vessel in his hands or utterly shatter his teeth.

Legend chucked another stone into the water. It made a loud plop. It wasn’t very satisfying, though. He wanted others to feel his pain. He wanted the heavens to open up and drown his sins in rain. For lightning to crack and for thunder to rumble and to show everyone exactly what was going on inside his mind.

Footsteps distracted him from his thoughts.

“Legend?” It was Warriors. The last man that he wanted to see at the moment.

“Fuck off, captain. I’m not above slapping you right now,” Legend growled, but Warriors didn’t go away.

“I came to apologize. I didn’t mean what I said. I should’ve realized that you were hurting from it,” The captain said with a gentle voice. Legend tensed even furthur, curling his hands into fists as he ripped the grass out from under them.

“How much longer do you think that we can do this?” Legend sneered, voice laced with venom. “How much longer do you think that I can stand being hurt by people who are supposed to be my family before I just quit it all?

“Legend please, we don’t know what not to say unless you tell us about it! If we don’t work this out we’re just going to be skating on ice around you forever,” Warriors pleaded, taking a tentative step forward.

Legend stood and whipped around to face him. His eyes were red and swollen from sobbing by the water and Warriors gasped in surprise.

“I don’t care! For all the talking you do you can’t seem to tell when someone is seconds away from punching somebody?” Legend took a shaky breath to steel himself. “You all claim that we’re supposed to be like a family! But you all can’t recognize when one of your own is hurting! When they’re broken into so many pieces that there is little to no chance that they can put themselves back together!”

“You don’t think that the rest of us are broken too? There are things we’ve seen that would make us wake up screaming! Haven’t you seen the way that Wind screamed when he saw a Lofting for the first time? The way that Time had a panic attack when the moon was full for the first time in a few weeks?” Warriors retorted, having had enough of bullshit. His voice was cracking with emotion.

“I know, captain. And I don’t care if what you said was a stupid joke! All those people I talked about, of course they aren’t real. They were never real! There’s no one who would be able to care about someone like me!” Legend yelled, voice echoing through the forest.

The two stared at each other for a good long while before either of them said anything. Legend laughed a watery, broken laugh before shoving his hands in his pockets. He continued to wish that Hylia would let it rain from the heavens with all his unshed tears, how he wished for her to conjure volcanoes and storms to scream with the fright of his nightmares. But when had Hylia done anything for him?

“What a pair we are, huh?” Legend barked out another laugh. Warriors now had tears streaming down his face, and so did Legend. “Two weapons that were forged in blood only to fight and destroy everything they touch,”

“Legend-“

“I’ve heard enough, captain. I need time to cool off, I need time away from you. Tell the others to not come find me, alright?” Legend asked, looking up at the sky. “Just please, please go away,”

Warriors complied, sniffling like a child as he walked back to camp. Legend sat back down by the stream, and let his head fall down into his hands.

After he was sure that Warriors was gone, Legend sobbed. He let out every cry that he held in, every little tear that begged to be let go. He felt every emotion he could possibly imagine. Hatred, at Warriors, at himself, and Hylia for making him go through this mess in the first place. Sadness, wishing that he could be in his Uncle’s arms when he was a child and was afraid of a thunderstorm. Grief as he longed to be back at Marin’s side, letting her beautiful voice lull him to sleep.

But as much as he sobbed, one truth rang clear through his mind. No one could love someone like him. At least not anyone real.

**********

When Wind saw Warriors dejectedly return to camp, he knew that he had to do something. What Warriors had said was crossing the line, sure, but none of them knew the toll that it would take on their veteran. And as much as Warriors wanted to apologize, Wind knew that it wouldn’t work until Legend calmed down. So when Wind said he was going to go talk to the fuming veteran, the strange looks that he got from the rest of the heroes were understandable.

“He’s just going to yell at you, Sailor,” Warriors insisted, his face still red from tears. He was leaning against Time, who had his arm around the tearful captain. The Old Man had an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes betrayed his facade, as they were clouded with grief.

“No, he’s not,” Wind insisted, staying true to his decision. He glanced around camp, taking note of the expressions his friends bore. Twilight was holding Wild to his side, the champion having since drawn his hood, his eyes blank. Hyrule was clutching Sky’s tunic until the blood left his hands, Four sitting on his other side, eyes seemingly flickering in the firelight. “I need you all to trust me, please,”

Time looked Wind in the eyes, before nodding.

“Just be careful,”

“I will,”

Wind then left camp and walked carefully through the forest in the direction that Legend stormed off in. As the sounds of a stream grew closer, Wind started to doubt his ability to calm the veteran. But he walked on, stepping on every twig and leaf in his path in hopes that he wouldn’t scare Legend.

“I know you’re there,” A voice called, hoarse and choked with emotion. Wind couldn’t help but flinch, but he said nothing. He strode forward with a false confidence and sat himself down next to Legend, ignoring every impulse in his body that made him want to stare at the veteran. “Did the others send you?”

“No,” Wind answered, picking up a stone and skipping it across the shallow water. Legend watched it with little interest. They sat in silence after that, Wind occasionally skipping a stone and Legend trying to stifle his sniffles.

“Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be comforting your precious brother?” Legend sneered, but there was still no venom to it, just the voice of someone who was broken too many times.

“Because I understand more than you’d think,” Legend scoffed. Wind didn’t take offense. He skipped another stone, this one bouncing four times before it sank to the ground. “After you, I’m one of the most experienced heroes. And I never told any of you how my second one ended, did I?”

Legend spared a glance at Wind, whose eyes were fixated on the water.

“How did it end?” He asked, and was surprised at how young he sounded.

“I woke up,” Wind admitted, and Legend let out a choked whine. Wind moved closer, and put an arm around the poor veteran’s side. “I conquered all the dungeons, forged the Phantom Sword, defeated Bellum, had the most traumatic experience in all of my adventures, and then I just… woke up. The Ocean King was there. He didn’t explain much,”

“Was any of it real?” The veteran wondered, wiping at his eyes. Wind shrugged.

“I have no idea. It’s real in my memories. But is it physically real? Who knows?” He said nonchalantly. Wind suddenly turned to Legend, looking at him with an intense stare. “That’s what happened to you, didn’t it?”

“They're all gone and it’s my fault,” Legend choked out, and Wind started rubbing his back, something he did with Aryll whenever she had nightmares about a certain bird. “You don’t know how much I’d give to hold her again, even if it’s only once,”

“I know. But you had to get home. Even if it was your fault, if she really loved you she would forgive you,” Wind insisted. “You knew what you had to do. And you did it. We all make choices, some are bad, others not so much,”

“But it hurts so much,” Legend whimpered, a pitiful sound, but Wind didn’t mind. The sailor merely stood and wrapped his arms around the veteran, trying to reassure him that things would be alright.

“We love you, Legend,” said Wind, and Legend sniffled again, hugging Wind even tighter.

“I know,”

#linked universe #lu warriors #lu wind #lu legend #my writing

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consumedkings-archive · 4 years

Text

ancient names, part x

ancient names, pt. x

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt x: how large the teeth

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~7.2k (yes I am a clown)

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.

Warnings: Gore/violence, forced used of psychotropic drugs to induce hallucinations, spooky scaries (hi October!), implications of sexual assault though nothing specific, and uhhhhhhh liberal use of a shotgun. And you know, the usual things that come with Far Cry 5. Also, proofreader? I hardly know her.

Notes: So this chapter took quite a while to get around (thank you, writer's block), but it's here! And a spooky update, just in time for October, too! Yes, Elliot is hallucinating basically this entire chapter. What's real?? What isn't??? The world may never know.

I pulled a lot of inspiration from a LOT of medias/myths, so if you think you know what it is I would LOVE to hear from you and see if any of it comes through in my writing the way I want it to!

Special thanks to my lovely @starcrier, who has been a true homie throughout my wrestling with this chapter, and all of the lovelies here on tumblr and on AO3 who have sent in their feedback, chatted with me, and just all in all provided me with the support and inspiration I really needed to get this chapter done! I probably sound like a broken record by now, but the fact that I have managed to write this many chapters at all after finishing my first chaptered fic in a VERY long time just a few months ago is insane to me and certainly would not have happened without y'all.

Okay, sappy notes over. Enjoy! Thank y'all so much again!

She is twenty-four, and she cries under the tent of blankets that Joey has made for them.

It feels like she is seventeen, again, in a little fort that they make, but there are key differences: they are in Elliot’s apartment in the city, and Joey’s face is somber, and in the dark Elliot can feel the guttural, gut-wrenching grief sounds shaking her down to her skeleton.

Blanket tents were never for crying in, before. They were never a place to say, between gasping breaths, that she didn’t know why she let a man that she trusted touch her even when she didn’t want him to. How can she? If someone has never experienced the paralyzing fear of being completely out of control, of being helpless, how could it ever make sense?

Elliot knows that it doesn’t. She knows that Joey doesn’t understand completely, not really, and that it hurts her feelings that Elliot flinches when she moves too quickly, and that it stings to say the name of the man she had been dating—that his name tastes sour, like a venom, on her tongue now—and that when Joey tells her that she needs to tell someone what he did, it draws a noise of agony out of her not unlike the way an animal trapped sounds.

She does not sleep that night, or the next night, or the next, and finally when she is tired enough to be worn down she goes to a therapist. She has to, Joey says, or she will never get a job working with the law in Hope County, and Elliot knows she’s right so she does.

There are a lot of things that the therapist says. Trauma hits her the hardest. It blinks, a neon sign above her head, assigned to her so that all will know: that she is Trauma, that she has it, that it sits in her bones and makes a home out of her. Is that all I will ever be? She wonders. Trauma? Is that all that I have, now?

Each day is a series of motions, one after the other: waking up, getting up, standing and walking and breathing and existing, all the time. Each of those motions exhausts her. She files a restraining order; she goes to therapy; she takes the sleep medication but that is all she wants to take because otherwise she will feel too much unlike herself. She finishes her training with a clean bill of health from the doctor and her therapist and she packs her apartment, which hurts worse than maybe anything else, because each book and blanket and trinket packed away is a constant reminder of the person who had been there, who had stolen her safety from her in the very place that she was supposed to always feel safe.

But Hope County is waiting for her, and that is what she will take comfort in: that there is always a place for her, there.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was the worst-case scenario. In any other universe, in any other life, she would not have let herself be convinced to approach an enemy unarmed. Not even John’s flippant confidence that she could make a weapon out of anything instilled in her the idea that things would be alright, in the end.

That had been the only thought that could keep her going. Once I get Joey and get the hell out of Dodge, everything will be okay, her brain would say. Get Joey, get out. That’s all there is to it.

But that wasn’t all there was to it, anymore, and she knew that; she knew it while her heart hammered in her chest, while her skin itched and burned where the redhead had touched her like he was dripping in acid, while the blood rushed through her head in a violent tidal wave that made her feel like she was going to puke. They had stuffed a wet cloth into her mouth and hauled her away, out of sight of the Seeds, and now she sat—alone, tied, the cloth spit out onto the floor of the cabin they had left her in.

She was somehow both unaware of how much time was actually passing and fully confident that it had only been a half an hour; if she moved her head too fast (which was to say, at all) the world wobbled and swam around her. Elliot finally relented to burying her face into her knees and closing her eyes to try and stop the swimming nausea.

The door clicked open. She saw Ase, first, and behind her loomed the redhead. The woman was taller up close than Elliot would have thought—probably bridging five foot ten—which made the redhead much taller than she had thought, too.

I could kill her, she thought furiously, through the strange haze that had fallen over her. If I got my hands on her, I could.

“Hello, mor,” Ase said. Elliot saw the warmth blooming in her voice, like an aura welling up out of her, red and searing; the realization that they had certainly dipped the cloth in something that would ultimately be worse than just dying-by-chemical-ingestion hit her hard, sending her heart fluttering in a panic. It was the same brand of panic she had felt when John had found her in the field; wildly out of her control, as if she were being puppeted by something else, something larger than her.

The redhead closed the door behind them, and Ase closed what little distance that remained between the two of them, crouching in front of her. Elliot tried her best to muddle through the panic and muster up some hostility, but it was hard, when it felt like the floor was both sturdy and melting underneath her.

“Fuck you,” Elliot managed out, her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton balls. It didn’t seem as though her words had any effect on the blonde, and for a second she panicked, wondering if she had even said anything at all in the first place or if it had just been in her imagination.

“You left Kian with a few nasty bites, didn’t you?” Ase asked, her voice welling with amusement. “I did not want to stuff a tea-soaked washcloth into your mouth, but we couldn’t have you drawing any more blood.”

Elliot’s gaze slid to the redhead—Kian, she thought venomously—and the movement of her eyeballs felt like they were hitching unsteadily in her skull. So they had drugged her, again. What the fuck was it with cults and drugging people?

The woman reached for her, and instinctively, Elliot flinched. The gesture came a few seconds too late; the drug in her system, whatever it was they had soaked the cloth in, was already starting to wear her down.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Elliot said, as Ase untied the rope around her feet and then her hands, “if you want me to stop biting people.”

“I am not worried,” Ase replied sweetly. “You’re already looking more docile by the minute, mor.”

Elliot swallowed thickly; to do so took concentrated effort. “That isn’t my name.”

“It isn’t a name at all,” the blonde agreed unhelpfully, tossing the ropes to the side and coming to a stand. She smoothed her hands across the dark fabric of her dress, and then extended a long, elegant hand. “Now, do you want to see your friend?”

She felt her heart stutter painfully in her chest at the woman’s words. After having been tricked and toyed with by John, it was strange to think she was finally in the home stretch that she had been trying to reach these last few days; that finally, finally, all of her toil and trouble was bringing her back to Joey.

Briefly, the idea that she could take Joey and run--leave the Seeds to their own devices--fluttered through her brain. Leave the Seeds to clean up this mess on their own. Hopefully, the Resistance had already bolted out of Hope County and were well on their way elsewhere. If she grabbed Joey and got out--if she could get in touch with law enforcement outside of Hope County--

Elliot stared at the Swede's hand and tried to gather her thoughts up in one place. It felt too much like they had become marbles, spilling out of her hands every time she tried to focus. She took a breath and then forced herself to a stand, blatantly ignoring Ase's outstretched hand. Just the act of using her legs to stand felt a little like being on stilts; the world lurched and ground to a watery stop around her, and only confirmed, infuriatingly, what Ase had said--that she was in no shape to bolt, or fight for that matter.

"Come along, then," Ase said pleasantly, taking a few steps away from her. Those few steps made it look as though the ground stretched out for miles between them, and her stomach twisted. The blonde looked at her over her shoulder and smiled.

"Kian, help our friend," she murmured. The redhead stepped forward and reached for her, ever obedient to his master, and Elliot immediately gritted her teeth and took an unsteady step backward.

"Kian, don’t," she bit out, mimicking Ase’s honeyed tone as much as she could. And then, less sweet: "If you touch me again, you'll walk away with a lot more than a bite mark, fuckhead."

Kian flashed a smile that felt like a snake against her skin and gestured for her to go on ahead. "Go on, then."

Just being in his proximity again made her skin crawl; it felt still like his hand was around her throat, the heat of his breath against the shell of her ear. Even in the dizzying haze that had settled over her, she felt her heart leap uneasily into her throat at the memory.

Before she realized what was happening, Elliot's feet had carried her out around Kian and out of the cabin, trailing the beacon that Ase had become, a strange green aura undulating around her. I hate this, she thought, watching the way the trees around her shifted and bled into the night sky.

"How—how long was I in there?" She asked, falling into an uneasy pace next to Ase.

"A few hours," she replied, looking over at her. "Felt shorter?"

Yes, Elliot thought, but the word didn't come to her mouth. The ground slid under her feet; the world around her pulsed in time with her breaths, stretching and cinching in equal parts until she found herself standing in front of another of the cabins. In the distance, the sound of the lake water lapping at the shore echoed over and over in her head.

Ase pushed the door to the cabin open, and inside sat Joey Hudson.

She looked tired, days of exhaustion sitting heavy on her face, a dark shadow of sleeplessness and makeup both ringing her eyes. Joey had always been pretty, and now was no exception; the brunette, though her clothes were dirty and her eyes fluttered with tiredness, was just as lovely as she always was. The sight of her had Elliot’s head and heart swimming with emotion, rising up thick and high in her throat until she thought she might come unglued right there, in front of a psychotic woman.

But with the feeling of being on a seesaw unseating her nonstop, and the desperate, aching reminder of the person she had been missing all along, Elliot didn’t think almost anything about Ase. As far as she was concerned, in that moment, the woman ceased to exist; the same choking feeling that she’d felt when Jerome had said, you can tell me if it’s not okay. A relinquishing. A lifting of her burden. You don’t have to Atlas this thing alone.

“Joey,” Elliot said, the woman’s name coming out of her mouth hoarse and heavy. Joey’s eyes fluttered tiredly and she mustered up the closest thing to a smile.

“Hey, El,” Joey replied. As Elliot crossed the space between them and immediately crouched to kneel in front of her, the smile warmed into something more genuine. In an effort of lightness, the brunette said, “You should have called, I would have cleaned up.”

Elliot felt the soft, wrecked little sound, so close to a sob, more than she heard it; it was a choked almost-laugh, her hands fluttering absently as though unsure of where to land. “I tried,” she managed out, as thinking and speaking became harder, her jaw stiff and unyielding. “I tried, Joey—”

Joey nodded and said, “I know.”

“I will leave you,” Ase said lightly from the door, “but, Elliot? You only have a short time before you become fully open to the influence. I would drink some water.”

The blonde turned, leaving and closing the door behind her, leaving just the two of them there. By then, even while the world swam around her, and she thought she could see little sparks of orange light flying off of Joey, she threw her arms around the brunette and hugged her tightly. It took a minute for her to realize that she was crying--happy, relieved tears, the kind that came suddenly and without warning.

“I was so worried about you,” Elliot murmured between sniffles, pulling back and immediately searching for restraints. There were none. Unlike John Seed’s version of Joey’s captivity, no duct tape covered her mouth, nothing bound her hands together; she was just sitting in there—probably knowing well enough that running would have been a worse idea. “I thought John had you, and then he got me, and then he said he’d pawned you off to Faith, and—”

“Slow down,” Joey laughed, the sound not quite reaching deep enough in the cavity of her chest to be a real one. “You have crazy eyes, El.”

“They gave me something,” she explained, pressing the heel of her palm against her eye. “They did it once before, but it was stronger then.”

Joey handed her the bottle of water she had been nursing, uncapping it for her. “They gave it to me too, once,” she replied. “But not again. Maybe I didn’t give them the response they were looking for. Elliot, these people are--there’s something really wrong here. They keep talking about this thing in the woods, asking if I’ve seen it...”

Elliot took a big swallow of the water, shifting on her knees and then taking another. She felt absolutely parched—the water tasted a little funny, but she wasn’t sure if she trusted her own sense of taste right in that moment anyway. “We have to get out,” she said. Whatever the cult believed in or practiced didn’t matter; what mattered was getting the fuck away from them.

She was certain she could hear Ase’s voice just outside. She lowered her voice, trying her hardest to make sure she was whispering, “We were hoping to—I mean, I was hoping to—the plan went wrong, Joey, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But we can still get out.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Joey asked. “Sheriff Whitehorse, and Burke, and…”

Her voice trailed off absently, and Elliot could feel the brunette’s eyes on her. She hesitated, taking Joey’s hands in her own before she replied, “I don’t know.”

“Then who is ‘we’? Jerome and the others?”

“No, Jo, it’s--”

The door clicked open behind them, echoing once, twice, three times in Elliot’s head before she turned to see Ase looming in the doorway. Long, dark, the sharp angle of her jawline and the high slope of her cheeks making her look more severe, more beautiful than before.

“It is time for you to see,” she said, her voice light. “You will have time with your friend later.”

“What about Faith?” Elliot asked, struggling to her feet. “I want to see that Faith is okay too. That you haven’t—”

“After,” Ase replied, her voice startlingly ironclad.

“Joey comes with me.” She tried again, tried to force her voice to firmness, to assertion. But Ase only smiled, tranquil now despite the hardness of her voice. She crossed the small space between them, looming in Elliot’s vision--eclipsing all other light, taking away all sense of anything else outside of her.

“She stays,” Ase replied, not unkindly. “This is only for you to see.”

She crossed the distance of the cabin between them and reached for Elliot, taking her hand. The contact made Elliot’s skin buzz. She was so tired--so tired of this stretching and pulling of herself, so tired of the way their drugs made everything somehow more than what she could handle and forced her to handle it anyway.

“Joey—”

Elliot turned back to look at the brunette, reaching for her as Ase pulled her along; Joey had pulled herself to a stand and was trying to follow after them, saying something like, it’s okay, I don’t mind coming, really, more practiced at polite coercion than Elliot was. Before Joey could reach the door after them, Elliot saw the broad, tall form of Kian blocking out the doorway, saying something to Joey in Swedish.

“Hey! Leave her alone, you fuck—”

Ase pulled on her hand, hard, yanking her until she was stumbling after her sleek figure. Out in the night, where the air was chilly with an early-Autumn coldness and Elliot could see her breath floating out of her mouth, she almost felt at peace for a second. Everything was still. Incredibly still, the way the surface of a pond was before a stone landed.

One step at a time, she walked her to the edge of the campground. They broke the treeline, hand-in-hand, until they could see Sacred Skies Lake stretched out below them. Elliot craned her neck to try and see the cabin where they were keeping Joey, but the trees blocked most of her vision of the campground.

“Look, there,” Ase said, interrupting her thoughts. She gestured down at the far treeline. When Elliot turned to look, she saw nothing; only darkness in the still woods. Too still, she thought now—still in the way the forest was when a predator had arrived and all the prey had fled.

The lake rippled below them, and then smoothed out, dark and clear as glass. She tried desperately to see--really see, not just what the drugs were making her see, as though she could brute force her way through the barrage of sensations overwhelming her.

And then: “Hey!”

It was a woman’s voice, thrown from somewhere down by the lake. Elliot felt apprehension crawling across her skin. She didn’t know why it was making her nervous, but she strained to listen for it again all the same.

The voice said again, “Hey, Elli!” and she felt her stomach drop. It was her mother’s voice, the sweet Georgia drawl that her mother had always sported, calling to her from the woods. Calling for her.

“Mama?” Elliot managed out, her voice thick and hoarse and bubbling before it even left her mouth. She felt Ase’s eyes on her, inquisitive, but all she could think about was I have to get her out of here, what is she doing here? Why isn’t she with the others?, so louder this time, she went, “Mama, I’m here!”

She took a step forward. It was Ase’s hand that stopped her, a gentle shake of her head. Elliot looked back at the woman for some kind of answer, but her expression was empty of anything that might have been helpful; on it was only the serene, delicate smile of a woman enthralled.

There was a stretch of silence. Something dark shifted in the trees. Something big, rippling leaves and branches as it moved.

And then: “Mama?”

It was her voice.

It called, again, “Mama, I’m here?”, and the pitch and timbre felt the same as her own voice, like she’d shouted into an echoed canyon, but it was wrong. It was all wrong. It sounded like something trying her out, feeling out the way she sounded. Practicing.

The air bubbled around her with some kind of emotion. It popped, pulled tight, stretching over her vision like saran wrap, until it hurt to keep her eyes open, until she thought desperately that all she wanted to do was close her eyes—but she couldn’t. She had to stay awake, stay clear, stay conscious. For herself, for Joey and Boomer and for—

(Whether you like it or not, you and I are on the same side.)

It called, from deep in the treeline beyond the lake, again. “I’m here!” The voice pitched and pulled between words, like whatever it was kept trying to get the exact cadence of her words—trying her out, tasting. Sliding beneath her skin.

“What the fuck is that?” Elliot whispered. Ase smiled serenely at her, and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Look harder,” Ase murmured. “You will see It.”

She took a step forward, her heart thundering in her chest, trying to see beyond the utter stillness of the forest. Nothing moved; nothing breathed in time with her, anymore; where the drumbeat of the world had once felt it was intrinsically tied to her, she was now cut off from it, in a cold, dead space somewhere beyond.

Something in the trees shifted again, and rumbled.

“It has been waiting for you,” Ase murmured, coming up behind Elliot. Her voice was silky, warm, spinning a web around and around her until it made her feel—

Safe.

“What has?” Elliot managed out, swallowing thickly.

“We call it the Father,” she said. “It talks to us, when we are open to it. In voices we recognize, in the voices of our loved ones, so that it does not scare us.”

Her hands were on Elliot’s shoulders, gently squeezing, and she thought she was going to throw up. The trees in the distance warped and bent, swallowed up by something big and dark and humming, the vibration of it melting around her thrumming beneath her skin.

“It tells us, Elliot, that the end of the world is here. Your own Eden’s Gate knows it, do they not?” Ase’s voice was more urgent now; Elliot didn’t have time to think about how she said your own Eden’s Gate before she was plunging on. “They know it. The only difference between us and them is that we serve It, that we help to usher it in. Just as we once took, so do we give back to It—life, cyclic and infinite. You know it. You understood the words, in the flowers, didn’t you?”

My heart aches for you.

Be gentle with me.

I come soon.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she said, the words coming out slick with panic, spilling out of her before she could stop them. Her shoulders scrunched up to her jaw to try and brush Ase’s hands off of her. “You’re insane. You—crazy bitch—”

They were John’s words, not her own, but it was all she could muster up; the woman’s face remained light and serene, turning Elliot to look at her now.

“It waits for you,” she insisted, her voice wobbling around Elliot like the reverb of a bass drum. “I told you that you would always come back to us. I knew when I saw your color.” Her gaze swept over Elliot, almost affectionate. “White, in perfect balance.”

“Stop touching me,” Elliot managed out, pushing Ase’s hands weakly off of her. The strange thrumming persisted under her skin, a violent cacophony as she tried to block out the sound of her own voice beckoning her from the woods. Hey! Mama, I’m here! It said, begging her to follow, begging her to investigate.

Breathing became harder. It felt like she was gulping in lungfuls of water, eeking out whatever oxygen she could, but no matter where she looked to try and get Ase out of her mind she only saw dark trees; bending and curling and pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

“Mor,” Ase said, taking Elliot’s face in her hands like a lover would, “Mother, that’s what you are. For us, to us, while we serve It.”

“Fuck you,” she spit out, but her voice cracked instead, the fear welling up inside of her like a tidal wave. “I’ll—”

Ase shook her head. “I told you, it is a cycle,” she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Wherever you go, wherever you run, It will wait for you. It waits for us all, Elliot, and it will have you. As It gives, so too, does it take.”

She opened her mouth to respond when the loud crack of a gunshot echoed just a few feet away. Ase’s head snapped around viciously, her hand still gripping Elliot’s face with a firm, unforgiving hold; even in the dark, even with the drug wreaking havoc on her system, Elliot recognized the filthy backwater whooping of Peggies.

The flash of headlights through the trees suddenly brought everything back to life, the sound roaring in through Elliot’s head like someone had flicked the mute button back off again.

She turned to look back at the lake. Whatever had been lurking there was gone, now. The sound of feet hitting the dirt, shouted words in a foreign language, and the sweeping realization that they might yet still get out of here sent her heart hammering.

Ase pulled on her, hard, until she was stumbling after her. She craned her neck to try and see if she recognized anyone, to see if she could see one familiar face, but where the gunshots were echoing was already far enough that she could only see the brief flicker of headlights.

The door to the cabin opened. Warm light flooded her vision, splintering behind her eyelids as Ase pushed her inside and said, with a sudden and violent amount of poison, “Stay.”

Everything felt like she was swimming in molasses; each movement harder than the last, each breath taking more and more of her concentration. The door slammed shut. In the time it had taken Elliot to will her venom into existence, Ase had released her hand and swept out of the cabin, leaving her alone with Joey. Through the curtains, she could see dark shapes shifting and melting, one into another, and she took in a stuttering breath.

“Are you okay?” Joey asked immediately, reaching for her. “What did she say? When they did it to me, she kept asking if I could see—but it was just trees, out there, to me. El, look at me.”

“We have to get out,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, cracking with panic. “We have to get the fuck out of here, Joey. These people are—so much worse than Eden’s Gate—”

Voices catapulted in volume outside, tires squealing and doors slamming. All of it felt too loud, even with a wall between herself and the violence—like someone had cracked the volume up to one-hundred and then pulled the knob off.

“What the fuck? Are those Peggies?” Joey whispered, glancing out the window. “I do not want to be in the crossfire of two fucking cults. Elliot, when are the others coming? Where are they?”

Elliot swallowed thickly. As the sounds of cacophony increased outside, reminding her that she had made something like a deal with the devil, she took in a deep breath. She didn’t have time to think about the woods, or whatever it was she thought she’d seen in there, or the way that Ase had gripped her face and said, It waits for you.

“Right,” she said, trying to push those thoughts somewhere far down and out of sight. “So, listen, Joey, about the others, they’re—gone.”

Joey stared at her. “Gone?” she repeated. Horror started to creep into her tone. “Like—dead—?”

“No, I mean—they’re gone. Or they should be,” she added quickly, heading towards the window to look out, “I told them to evacuate Hope County when I ran into these crazies the first time.”

“Okay,” the brunette began, slowly, “so… before, when you said we and—that you had a plan…”

“Right,” Elliot replied, her head swimming a little. “Yeah, a plan. Remember when I said that John got me—”

Joey shook her head, not because she didn’t remember but because she already saw where this was going. “Elliot—”

“—and then he told me that he pawned you off to Faith, and—well, Joey,” Elliot managed, “there wasn’t any way I was going to lose one iota of a chance of getting you back.”

“Fuck,” Joey groaned, pressing her hands to her eyes. “Fuck, Elliot, please tell me you didn’t—”

“Well, look, Joey—”

Something rattled the door. It struck Elliot with a note of panic that they had been locked in, and she didn’t know if in that moment she felt worse to know that they had closed them in or if it was a comfort, considering the chaos that was probably ensuing outside.

Worse, something in her head said. It always feels worse, to be trapped.

Someone banged on the door three times, and then through it came a blissfully familiar voice: “Elliot? Are you in there?”

Elliot felt a wave of relief wash over her. She never thought she would see the day where hearing John Seed’s voice would bring her relief, let alone comfort: but it did.

She hurried to the door, rattling the doorknob for good measure. “Yes,” she replied quickly, the words coming out a bit hoarse, so she tried again, louder this time: “Yeah, John, I’m in here. Can you break the window?”

“I’ll do you one better. Get back from the door.”

She did as he said, reaching for Joey just mere seconds before she heard a concussive splintering of wood and metal from the other side of the door, which swung open shortly thereafter. She was not wrong to think that the outside was chaos; she could hear it more clearly now, but almost none of it mattered, because John Seed was standing there with a shotgun in his arms.

“You could have just broken the window open,” Elliot managed out, around the complicated mess of feelings welling up inside of her and her tongue feeling two sizes too big in her mouth. “Idiot.”

“That’s a lot of attitude you’re giving your rescuer,” John replied, cocking the shotgun with an affirmative click, click, the plastic shell clattering onto the front porch of the cabin. “What are you standing around for? Let’s get moving, hellcat.”

“I’m not going with him,” Joey bit out venomously. “That psycho kidnapped me and held me hostage!”

“Oh, Hudson, that was so long ago,” John drawled, glancing over his shoulder at the erupting chaos behind him. “Keep up with the times, won’t you? Elliot and I are partners, now.”

It shouldn’t have felt dirty, hearing John Seed say that to Joey—because they were partners, because he didn’t have to come for her if he had Faith already and he did anyway—but it did. It felt traitorous.

“You fuckhead!” Joey snapped. “If any of our friends are dead, it’s your fault!”

“Okay!” Elliot announced, her voice high and panicked. It felt weird to be the middleman, the one demanding that everyone be calm. “Okay, let’s just—everyone shut the fuck up, okay? I am hours into a fucking drug trip and there is no time to debate the moral ethics of teaming up with a cult leader to escape another cult leader!”

Joey’s jaw clenched as she stared at John, her eyes narrowing, Elliot’s hand still firmly gripped in hers. She looked at Elliot for a moment, and then—

“Fine,” she ground out.

“Great,” John replied.

“Awesome,” Elliot said, taking in a deep breath. “Joey, is there any medicine in the cabinet? We should grab it.” She paused, looking at John for a moment, her gaze sweeping over him. He was unmarked. Unscarred. Splattered with blood, but it didn’t bother her—rather, assured her. “Did you—did you get Faith?”

He watched Joey let go of her hand and cross the room to gather up what few things she had—the half-drank water bottle, some pills from the cabinet in the bathroom that may or may not have expired, Elliot thought—and then he said, “First thing. She’s waiting for us down by the lake.”

“Good,” Elliot murmured, nodding and swallowing thickly. For a second, a strange silence stretched between them, and then John took a few steps into the cabin and he reached for her.

“They didn’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice dropping in volume, his fingers brushing her jaw and tilting her face to get a look at her neck where Kian’s fingers had dug into her skin.

She felt her lashes flutter, the feeling of his fingers skimming the still-tender spots sending strange vibrations rattling through her skull. Her skin didn’t crawl the same way it had when Kian had grabbed her, but heat did bloom in her face, and she felt it crawling all the way down her neck. His gaze darted over her face, lingering on her mouth for a heartbeat in their close proximity.

“Stupid,” she muttered, brushing his hand off. “Of course they didn’t. You should be checking on Ase’s little boy-pet.”

John grinned, the expression drenched in something close to pride. “I should have known.”

“Let’s go.” It was Joey’s voice that interrupted, slicing right through the moment, dousing out the flames Elliot felt in her chest. The brunette grabbed her hand and pulled her through the doorway, out into the cold, black night—a night swelling and vibrating with sound now, no longer ruptured by a stillness that sat like condensation in her lungs but noise, bubbling and sparking in the air like electricity.

Joey stopped, ducking and pulling Elliot back behind the next door cabin when the sound of gunfire pierced through the night. John slipped just ahead of them and said, “Hey, maybe let the guy with the gun go first?”

“Maybe the guy with the gun should be covering our asses instead,” Joey retorted. She pushed the water bottle into Elliot’s free hand and nudged her ahead. “C’mon, get a move on, Elli.”

John glanced back at her, and his expression said, Elli, huh? That’s cute. Elliot glared at him, but there was a lightness in her when she did—it didn’t matter, that infuriating way he cocked his grin at her, like he was equal parts pleased with himself and proud of her ferocity. It didn’t matter, because she could see the hilltop where Ase had shown her the lake, and once they got down they were home free, and John Seed could feel however he wanted to about her.

She had Joey. She would be free to go, and leave the Seeds behind her.

Shouting clipped through the air in the distance, and John glanced back behind them, exhaling through his mouth. No doubt the members of Eden’s Gate that were creating this diversion (and that’s what it was, a diversion) were getting mowed down, obliterated by the organized, methodical killing that the Family was capable of.

Elliot glanced back. Through the gaps in the trees, she could see bodies dropping and crumpling against the ground, pulled and yanked out of trucks that had been driven right up against the clearing. Lambs to the slaughter, she thought hazily, her fingers slipping out of Joey’s hand. What am I, then?

Wherever you go, wherever you run, It will wait for you.

Someone screamed. She saw the light of it, pinching off of them in sharp, rapid bursts of yellow, swimming through the air until disappearing into the night sky above her where the boughs of the trees stretched impossibly far. Each massacre, each bloody slaughter ending life after life, the residue filtering through the air in ghostly wisps of color.

As It gives, so too, does it take.

“El,” John said, taking a step down the hill, “we have to go.”

“Joey?” she asked. “She--”

“On her way down the hill, already.” He reached for her, hand outstretched, ignoring that she seemed to keep losing time. “Let’s go.”

Elliot paused at the top of the hill; her gaze darted, without much thought, to the treeline—it’s nothing, she thought to herself, I just want to check.

Something lurched in the treeline. Big, breaking and snapping trees, and Elliot felt a breath slip out of her, violently departing her lungs.

“John,” she began, uneasily, “I don’t think I can—”

“You’re fine, El, just keep—”

Joey called something from down below them; irritation flickered across John’s expression, and he turned away from her to take another step down the hill and call back, “Yeah, we’re—just sit tight down there, Hudson…”

Elliot took an unsteady step backward, and just as she did, she felt someone grab her arm.

“Not you,” Ase hissed at her, yanking her hard until she stumbled back from the hillside. There was a frantic, wild energy about her now, infernal, bubbling up out of the calm, polished veneer. “Not you, mor, not this time. You get to stay and see what you’ve done.”

Elliot felt cold earth and pine needles beneath palms, prickling through her jeans as she hit the ground. Her stomach lurched; she thought she was going to throw up, but when she turned around to see Ase stalking towards her, a different kind of nausea welled up in her. For the first time in a long time, Elliot felt real, cold fear in her, searing through her like a venom.

She wanted to call for John, or Joey, or anyone—but her jaw felt like it was wrenched tight, and violent sparks of light were rushing off of Ase right in front of her eyes.

“You’re insane,” she managed out unsteadily, the heat in her voice whipped away by the panic inside of her.

“I told you,” Ase said, taking two steps closer to her, “no matter where you go, you will always—”

Something loud and concussive echoed. Elliot heard flesh and sinew tear until the pressure of something greater; the arterial spray of it peppered her vision, splattering across her face until the world looked like it was doused in red film.

Ase’s expression went slack as she sank to her knees in front of Elliot, and in the dark of the night, Elliot could see the blood splatter of the gaping wound in Ase’s stomach just before she slumped forward. She wasn’t dead, yet—as John took a step forward, cocking the shotgun again, Elliot thought about the way Ase’s stomach had been spilling out of her.

“John?” she asked, feeling very small and very far away. A part of her brain was vaguely aware of the sounds of the firefight echoing in the night, of voices shouting closer to her, but she couldn’t think about any of that. All she could think about is the way John was looking at her, the shotgun propped up and ready to fire again, though he didn’t. Not yet.

Something brushed her hand. Elliot looked back and saw Ase’s glassy eyes, her fingers brushing Elliot’s, reaching for her. Blood dripped out of her mouth, and the green light that Elliot had thought she’d seen around her now was beginning to dim. Her lips parted, her gaze flickering absently over her face.

“Do you see?”

Ase interlaced their fingers. The earth below her stretched out, pulling her, sweeping like a neverending conveyor belt that only managed to make her sicker.

Another concussive blast muted out the world. She heard nothing but the ringing in her ears as the back of Ase’s head caved in, their eyes locked and their fingers interlaced, like friends. Like sisters.

“No,” Elliot said, the sound coming out of her like some kind of agonized noise, “no no no—”

Something firm and warm gripped her shoulders. A hand reached up, pushing against her jaw until she was forced to turn her eyes away from Ase’s mouth moving silently.

It was John. Eclipsing her vision, filling it up until there nothing else. John, pulling her to her feet, wiping the blood from her face and saying something—something that she couldn’t hear, her head vibrating with the residue of the shotgun blast that had covered her in gore—pulling her to the hillside, pulling her down.

The world swam and melted around her as John pulled her down the hill, one hand gripping hers and the other steadying her as she stumbled and swayed. She tried to look elsewhere, anywhere that wasn’t John, John who had looked like maybe he was hesitating and then had blown Ase’s head to pieces, but she couldn’t.

At the bottom of the hill, Joey immediately grabbed her away from John. “El? Elli? Are you okay?”

She didn’t know what to say. The feeling of Ase’s fingers reaching for her, interlacing with hers, stuck to her ribs. Elliot thought about the curve of the back of Ase’s head, concave from the shotgun shell, the carmine spray of the woman’s wound coating her face.

“If you want to stand around down here and chit chat, that’s fine.” It was Jacob’s voice. When had Jacob gotten there? Why was he there? She watched him grab Faith’s hand and pull the girl along, heading further down to the lake. “We’re leaving.”

“When—” Elliot began, still dazed, feeling like the world was becoming a watercolor painting around her. “When did Jacob—”

“Drink some water,” Joey said, holding the water bottle out to her, “and we’ll talk about it later, but right now we need to move, Elli.”

She nodded numbly, clutching Joey’s hand as she started to walk, John’s radiating warmth on the other side of her. Elliot glanced at him through the corner of his eyes for any indication that he felt, at all, any emotion about what he’d just done—but he only looked quietly troubled, his fingers brushing hers as they walked.

He’d said to her, grinning slick, yours must surely be the sin of wrath. But she didn’t feel so very wrathful now, Ase’s blood on her face and the world falling apart around her. She watched him, glancing around through the trees, checking the chaos behind them, the slaughterhouse he had led his lambs to.

Not this one. John’s voice, hissing in her ear, as she gasped around lungfuls of water. This one’s not clean.

John’s hands on either side of her face, gripping, grounding her to the earth when she felt like she was going to float away, when it felt like the earth was slipping out from beneath her feet. John, not grimacing or flinching when her nails dug into his arm to keep her present, to keep her anchored.

Which one are you? she thought, staring at him until her eyes burned, until he looked over at her inquisitively. Which John are you?

John, glowing with pride at Joseph’s praise. John, irritably telling her to smoke a cigarette because he knew from one casual conversation that it would relax her. John, his fingers brushing the skin just below her collarbone, saying maybe we’ll tattoo it here, just over your heart. John, calling her a killer.

By the pricking of my thumbs.

#far cry 5 #john seed #john seed x deputy #john seed/ofc #far cry fic #my writing #john seed/original female character #am i clown? yes #does that stop me from posting as much as i would like? also yes

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