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#worst* which is the same thing Char did until she saw with her own eyes that she was wrong about him
beavesaintmarie · 4 years
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me @ the Sanditon tag right now: 
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#im only now getting caught up on the Gigi drama and like........................lol can y'all please unclench????#it's WILD to me how folk are willing to afford Stringer so much empathy and understand and humanity when all he's done is like have a crush#on a girl he's had a handful of conversations with..............and he's been exalted to saint status for THE BARE MINIMUM#but everyone is ready to rip Gigi to shreds for having a bad reaction to the idea of her best friend and her pseudo-adoptive dad/big brother#maybe getting together........................#also..............let's be really real right now..........Sidney hasn't totally mended his relationship with Gigi in the same way he has#with Char. while yes we know he cares about her wellbeing. we gotta look at this from  Gigi's POV#he's essentially a man with whom she has no real connection to other than her WHITE SLAVE OWNING FATHER making him her guardian#a man who up until VERY RECENTLY thought that the best way to be a good guardian is to like keep her on house arrest#and never explain to her WHY he was so against her being with Otis and left her free to assume the worse#worst* which is the same thing Char did until she saw with her own eyes that she was wrong about him#so like THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK WITH GIGI AND HER DYNAMIC WITH SIDNEY#and i don't doubt for a second that those two will come to an understanding and start from the beginning with a fresh slate#but man y'all are VICIOUS when it comes to ripping apart a young black woman who was taken from her home. lost her family. is nursing#a broken heart and is also stuck in a place where she is gawked at and feels that she is only valued because of her money............#like i love Parkwood as much as you guys. LOL MAYBE EVEN MORE SINCE I LOVED SIDNEY AT HIS MOST DOUCHENOZZLE SELF#cause i knew still waters ran deep and he'd end up learning to EARN these relationships in his life#can y'all like..............get off Gigi's aerola and give her some space to like grow and mature too????????#ANYWAYS THOSE ARE MY THOTS ON THE BULLSHIT#lol all fandoms are like cesspools honestly#sanditon itv#crazy ramblings of a troubled mind...
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the-broken-truth · 3 years
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Can you do yandere bully damian wayne with fem reader how is a 🐺🔥🥋 🛡 🏹 🏠 she is like demon Hunter in Gotham and sometimes batman call for her help with joker/villains and goes to Gotham academy
They Heated each other guts and she tolerated him for her best friend Jonathan Kent
Damian was dating raven how was using him as cashcow
one day in park damian get drugged and kidnapped and reader saw all the and follow there car to save him after killing his kidnappers and heal him she comfront him and tell him everything is going to be alright and give him her jacket (which he will keep it for eternity) she dropped him to his house after buying him something to eat when damian get to his father house he sees the no-one care of what happened to him they saw the he got kidnapped and they didn't care at all but reader did and the how the obsession began
*STATIC*: An Obsessive Love Born From Loathing Hate? A Golddigger, as well? Quite an interesting request we have here, Broken.
Broken Truth: That we do, so let's see what words weave together from this.
Quick Note: The name of the reader shall be Kacela - The name means 'Huntress' and is of African Origin. Just like Damien, she is a rich kid but not because her parents are rich - her human parents abandoned her and she started her own business; it's well-known but not on the same level as Wayne Enterprises.
Broken: SORRY IT'S LATE! I'VE BEEN BUSY!
- THE RUNED HUNTRESS -
[On Top Of Gotham's Rooftops - Across from a besieged Research Facility]
[The Joker was at it again but this time he wasn't working alone - he enlisted the aid of Clayface, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Killer Croc, Riddler, and Penguin to take hold of a Research Lab that contained something each member of the crime group wanted; how Joker knew this and managed to use to persuade the villains into working with him is something The Dark Knight couldn't quite figure out. What he did know was that he was going to need some help.]
[At the moment, Damien (Robin)., Dick (Nightwing), and Barbara (Batgirl) were the ones of the Bat-Family that were with him at the moment but the 4 of them weren't going to be enough and - as much as he hated it - he needed aid from a power beyond what his gadgets and training could do.]
Damien (Walks over to Batman, who is standing on the edge looking at the facility): Father, why are we still waiting while those criminals are making a mess of the place?
Bruce: Because we're waiting for someone.
Damien: Who? We have enough people, we can take them.
Bruce: Don't be foolish, Damien. It's the four of us up against seven of Gotham's Worst, plus they have hostages and have access to unknown tech or substances that could put us at a disadvantage. The person I called has abilities unlike our own and can help us a great deal.
[Damien opened his mouth to protest when a smell hit his nose - it smelled like something was burning.]
Dick (Sniff-Sniff): Does anyone else smell something burning.
Barbara: It smells like brimstone.
Bruce: She's here.
[Nightwing opened his mouth to question who 'she' was when a burst of red light from a ball of fire came shooting upward from the edge of the building before falling and landing in the clear space. The ground was scorched from the fire impact and cinders flowed around the air and lined along with the black marks up everyone looked at the person - or creature - that caused it.]
[The creature was large and muscular the body of a wild canine - a wolf - but it stood on 2 legs; except, wolves didn't have 2 horns on their foreheads. The forearms of the beast were scarred with runes that were glowing red against the black fur. The creature began to stand on 2 legs - its height towered over Bruce - and opened its eyes to reveal eyes made from hellfire. The humanoid wolf opened its jaws - letting the hot smoke out - as it began to speak to the Head of the Bat-Family.]
Wolf Creature: Dark One (What she calls Bruce), I'm answering your persistent summons. Why have you decided to bother me this time?
Barbara: Summons? (Looks at Bruce) Bruce, what is that thing?
Wolf Creature (Glares at Barbara): I am not a 'Thing', I am a Wolf Demon while you are the daughter of a cop - playing dress up just to spite him and stick your pointed head where it doesn't belong.
Barbara (Points at the Wolf Creature): Hey, don't call me a...
Bruce (Raises his hand): That's enough. (Looks at the Wolf Creature) Runed Huntress, I know you told me that you're not interested in helping me but this is important. Those criminals have many innocent people captured and are trying to access some very dangerous information and products. Our gadgets can only get us so far but your power is limitless. We need your help.
Runed Huntress (Snorts - making smoke shoot out her nose and blow in Bruce's face): Very well, I shall aid you once again but - as I said before - do not make a habit out of this; you are this city's protector, not me.
Bruce (Nods): Noted. (Turns back to the building) Now, let's get a move on.
[The Bat-Family & The Runed Huntress leaped across the building rooftops until they reached the last roof that sat at the edge of the street that separated the distance of the buildings and the facility. The Bat-Family watches as the large humanoid wolf clapped her hands together and slowly brought them apart - bring a bow that looked as if it was forged from hellfire itself. The Runed Huntress took the bow in hand and did the motion of drawing back an arrow - Damian's eyes widen as an arrow materialized in her clawed hand before she releases it. It goes soar across the street and crashes into the glass dome but doesn't shatter it - it melts it away and forms a large hole, big enough for the rescue party to get inside.]
[The villains looked upon the hole of melted glass as the Bat-Family glided in and stood before the corrupted 7. The Ringleader - The Madman known as Joker - began to chuckle and clap his hands.]
Joker (Clapping): Bats! I knew you would be here! A little late to the party, don't you think?!
Bruce (Glares at Joker): I don't have time to deal with your demented mind, Joker. Release the hostages and turns yourselves in or we can do this the hard way.
Joker (Pouts and shakes his head): Oh, Batsy... Always the party pooper; no cake for you. But in case you have noticed, I outnumber you so...I don't think you can win.
[Just then - the monstrous roaring howl of the Runed Huntress echoed in the hall as she leaped through the giant hole and landed on all fours between Joker and Bruce. She glared at the villains as her jaws opened as lava leaked from the cracks of her fangs, making 2 pools on the tile floor that began to rise and form into 2 clones of herself.]
Runed Huntress (Rising to her feet as the lava clones did the same): Now...it's an even playing field.
[When Killer Croc let loose a hiss, Runed Huntress barked back at him and the two of them charged at each other - fighting as beasts knew how to. Bruce dealt with Joker, Barbara took on Harley Quinn, Dick took care of Riddler, Damian attacked Penguin, while the other two clones took on Clayface and Poison Ivy.]
[The fight ended with the villains in cuffs and loaded into Transportation Trucks, Barbara found the scientists locked in the safe - all accounted for and unharmed, but mentally scarred - Bruce was talking to Gordon while his family looked on. Damian looked off to the side and watched the large wolf walking away and ran after her as she turned into an alleyway.]
Damian: Hey, where are you going?
Runed Huntress (Looks over her large shoulder at the Wayne Family Heir): What do you want, boy? I have aided your leader, that doesn't mean I need to stay around for his talks with the Commissioner.
Damian: Just what the hell is your problem?
Runed Huntress: My 'problems' are none of your concern, Rich Boy.
[Damian opened his mouth to speak but the large beast was engulfed by a flammed vortex that erupted from the ground around her feet and covered her until it exploded into cinders - leaving Damian alone in the alley, looking at the charred circle in the ground.]
- RAVENS LIKE THINGS THAT SPARKLE -
[The Next Day: Gotham High School - Courtyard]
"I gotta go to the library to do some last-minute reading before class starts but before I forget, can I get some cash, Bae?" The Indigo-Eyed Girl asked as she looked upon the Wayne Heir.
"More? I gave you $700 just last week." Damien said as she looked at his girlfriend.
"I know but there's a sell on some rare spell tomes and I didn't want to risk someone else getting their hands on them. o, can you give me some cash?" Raven asked with a tilt of her head like a cat; making the heir exhale.
"Okay, I send another $800." Damien exhaled, earning a kiss on his cheek from the girl how had his heart before she turned and began to walk away.
"Hey, Damien!" Damien turned to see his friend Jonathan Kent walking up to him, but he wasn't alone.
Beside Jonathan was a dark-skinned female around the same height as him with golden eyes in a constant glare, She had short black hair in an undercut - only on her right side. She was wearing the Gotham High School uniform but the man one - she wasn't in comfortable skirts and she had the money to allow this. On her wrists there 2 golden bracelets - long ones that start at her wrists and end further up her forearms - that had some kind of writing on them that Damien didn't care to translate. Why didn't he care? Because he didn't like her.
"Hey." Damien said as he looked in the direction of his friend and...tolerant.
"You good, Bro? You seemed stressed out." Jonathan said with concern in his blue eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine - Father was telling us that there is some large event tonight and he wants all of us there; no questions asked." Damien said.
"Large event? What's that?" Jonathan asked.
"He talking about Gotham's Angel Award - it's when all of Gotham's CEOs and Walking Wallets gather in one room to see who's been recognized as the most giving and kind." Kacela said as she looked at Jonathan with her arms folded.
"Funny the stray (That's what Damien calls her began she doesn't have parents, relatives, or even a surname.) knows what it is, even though you would never step foot in that place, much less get to hold an invitation." Damien said with a smirk on his face. Imagine his shock as Kacela pulls an invitation to that event from her pocket.
"You were saying, Bird Brain?" Kacela asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Damien began to get mad and Kacela glared at him when Jonathan stepped between them.
"Whoa. Whoa. No need to fight! Just relax, guys." Jonathan said as he looked between her friends. Kacela exhaled and stepped back.
"Fine. I won't fight because Jonathan asked me to." Kacela said as she glared at Damien.
"Same here, Stray." Damien glared at her too before turning back to his phone.
"Whatcha doing, Damian?" Jonathan asked.
"Sending some cash to Raven's card." He said.
"More? Didn't you send her a lot just a few days ago?" Jonathan asked.
"Yes, but there was a book sale and she didn't want to miss out on the rare tomes that were for auction." Damian explained.
"Is that the song she sang to you? For someone so brilliant...you can't even see when you are being played." Kacela said as she placed her hands in her pockets and began to walk away.
"What's that supposed to mean, Stray?"Damian glared at her.
"Just remember - Ravens are fond of things that gleam and shine but they are also creatures that sing songs of deception." Kacela said before she entered the building, leaving Damian and Jonathan standing there.
- THE RAVEN'S DECEPTION & TRAPPED IN THE LION'S DEN -
[After Highschool]
Damian wished his friend a good evening before getting on his motorcycle and driving out of the school's parking lot. He knew that the normal route he would take was going to be caked in traffic for the event tonight and decided to head the long way. He was coming up on the red light at the intersection of 4 famous restaurants/cafes sat at the 4 Corners. He was the first vehicle in line when a familiar voice was heard from the right - he looked and the eyes under his helmet widened when they landed on his girlfriend sitting at an outdoor table with shapeshifter of the Titans - Beast Boy a.k.a Garfield. They were sitting at the table, holding hands and smiling at each other - as if they were in love.
"So, what do you want to do this weekend?" Raven asked.
"I wanna go to the new exotic animal show but tickets to that places are stupidly expensive." Garfield said.
"Don't worry, babe; I got the money from that walking piggy bank, Damian." Raven said.
"You got more? I thought he gave you some a few days ago." He said.
"Yeah, I just told him I spent the money on tomes and he gave me $700 more. All I have to do is pout and he'll give me whatever I want." Raven smirked at the notion and Garfield laughed.
Damian felt so bad about what he just heard - when the car behind him hooked their horn to let him know the light was green, he floored it and began driving down the main streets before the tears in his eyes began to blind him and he stopped on the edge of the park, took his helmet off and hid his face in hands - sobbing; showing the weakness of the Al Ghul.
His heart was broken - the one he loved was using him for a wallet for the shapeshifter and he was too blind to see it. The words Kacela said before she left that day - she was warning him that Raven was disloyal to him. The one he hated was the one who warned him.
He was so caught up in his crying that he didn't see the hooded figure sneaking up behind him and smacking him off the bike with a metal pipe in the back of his head. His world got dark when he heard the words.
"We got Wayne's Brat - we're in for a huge payday, boys." the fading voice chuckled until Damian faded into nothingness of mind.
[Around 2 Hours Later]
"Wake up, pretty boy!" someone commanded as he slapped the Wayne Heir wake - he was tied to a chair in the center of an unknown warehouse with 6 Thugs surrounding him - all of them with weapons in their hands.
"What? What the hell do you want from me?" Damian demanded as he glared at the man who slapped him - only for the same man to punch him in the face; Damian could taste the blood on his tongue before he felt it flowing out of his mouth as he tried to shake the daze from his head.
"We don't want shit from you, brat; we want a payday from Wayne and I know he'll pay huge racks to get his little boy back." The leader said.
"Boss, we've been calling Wayne but he ain't answering." A good said.
"Then keep calling! The sooner we finish this, the better." The boss order. Damian hung his head down - he was done for: his father wasn't answering the phone, his love breaks his heart...just what was he to do
The answer came as the window of the warehouse came crashing inward and a familiar Lycan-Shaped Figure came crashing into the room and landed on the ground on all fours before rising to its hind legs with a very pissed off glare in its eyes - the runes on its body shining in the light.
"What the hell is that?!" One of the Goons said as he tried to get his gun - only to have his head bitten off by the creature's jaws, letting his body hit the floor.
"Kill that thing! Fucking kill it!" The Boss said as he made Damian get to his feet and used his as a human by holding his arm around his neck and hold his gun at the creature that jumped around, slaughtering his men before turning to face him.
"Don't come any closer or I'll blow his brains out!" The boss said as he held the gun against Damian's head.
The Runed Huntress looked at a long metal nail that was sitting between her feet and reached down to gather it in her large clawed hand. Damian and the boss watched as the large wolfish creature twirled the nail between her fingers before flicking it on its head and sent it flying like a bullet - hitting the boss in the center of his head, making them lose his grip on Damian and slump to the ground. The Huntress ran over to Damian before he could fall and gathered him tenderly in her large arm before using the other one to cut his ropes - even free, the boy didn't move, he was too...cold.
"Damian, are you okay? Did they hurt you?" The Runed Huntress asked him as she looked at him with concerned eyes. Damian opened his mouth to speak but he noticed the bracelets on the creature's wrists - he saw them before, he saw them every day during school.
"K...Kacela?" Damian questioned as he looked into the creature's eyes again - there was a sparkle, a smile, then a small vortex of fire that revealed the human face of the one he hated at school.
"I always told you that you were brilliant, just weren't wary of the right people."Kacela said as she took off her jacket from her shoulders and placed it over Damian's, "Wear this, you're freezing." She said.
"You... You saved me? I thought you hated me - after everything I said and did to you." Damian said as he looked into her eyes.
"I never said I hated you, Damian; I said I hated the way you acted. As for saving you, I may have a beast's soul and form but I'm not a heartless monster to just let someone get hurt; not even someone who tries to me." Kacela explained before she turned back into the Runed Huntress, gathered Damian in her arms, and rose to her feet, "Now, let's get you home; you are too cold, you might be sick." she said as she turned on her heel and leaped back through the window she came through with the Wayne Family Heir in her arms.
- THE ONE YOU HATE IS THE ONE WHO CARES THE MOST -
[Wayne Manor]
The Runed Huntress landed in front of the door to Wayne Manor, using one of her hands to knock heavily on the door - it was soon opened by the Wayne Family Butler - Alfred Pennyworth.
"Hello, Madam Huntress, is there something I can help you with?" He then noticed Damian in her arms, "Is that Master Damian? Did something happen?" He asked.
"He was attacked and held for ransom but Bruce never answered the phone and he was harmed." Runed Huntress said.
"That's understandable - Master Bruce and the others are currently getting ready for the event and have asked not to be disturbed." Alfred said, making Kacela's eyes widen in anger.
"What?" She growled out. She pushed past the butler and followed Bruce's scent up the stairs to a meeting room - she barged in and - sure enough to what Alfred said - Bruce, Dick, and Barbara were all there, dressed in elegant attire; they all looked at the large wolf who barged into the room.
"Huntress? Is there something you need?" Bruce said.
"Are you serious, Bruce? Your son is in my arms, beaten & possibly sick, are you're asking me if I need something? Why didn't you answer the calls from Damian's phone?" Kacela asked.
"As Alfred told you, we're busy getting ready for the event." Bruce said.
"He's your son, Bruce Wanye - he was attacked, held for ransom, and beaten up and all you care about is this event? He could be sick, he's as cold as a block of ice." Huntress growled.
"Well, you got to him and saved him before he was hurt too bad, but since he can't come to the event, take him to bed and we will deal with him in the morning." Bruce said as he began walking do the door, past the wolf and his sick son, with his other 2. Kacela growled at him before looking at Damian.
"Where's your room?" She asked, her eyes widened when his hand grabbed her fur and held her close.
"Please... Please, don't leave me here." Damian pleaded - begged - as he tried to hold more tears while shivering.
"There's no way in hell I'm leaving you here. I need to get you some warm clothes." She explained.
Damian told her where his room was and she when there - placing him on the bed for a moment as she gathered pajamas and a new school uniform into the bag before closing it, picking Damian back up, opened the window, and the two of them disappeared into the night.
[Kacela's Loft]
*BEEP - BEEP - BEEP*
"Yeah, just as I thought - you're sick." Kacela said as she pulled the thermometer from the boy's lips and looked at the numbers. Kacela placed it on a napkin on the nightstand that was beside the bed Damian was laying in and the chair she was sitting in. "It seems to be a simple head cold - some medicine and rest should get you and running again, not to mention a good night's rest." Kacela explained.
"How come...you didn't go to the Gotham's Angels Award?" Damian asked as he looked at her with a warm feeling on his face - it must have been the cold.
"That place is full of people who just wanna get seen, not for doing right." Kacela explained before she reached on the nightstand to her phone, "You have to eat something before taking your meds and I don't feel like cooking tonight, so I'll order something. What are you in the mood for - Pizza or Burgers?" Kacela asked.
"What? You're letting me choose?" Damian asked.
"Sure, I don't usually have guests, so why the hell not?" Kacela gave a smile...and the warm feeling returned but it was stronger this time.
When the pizza arrived, Kacela helped Damian sit up, and the two of them ate while having conversations - turned out they had a lot of things in common, from their love of books to their outside activities. Damian asked Kacela a few questions about her knowing Raven was cheating on him and why she didn't tell him directly - she explained that it wasn't her place to speak on another person's relationship, plus he made it very clear that he had a dislike for her so what reason would he have to believe her? Damian apologized for his words but Kacela said she heard worse and wasn't bothered. Just before bedtime, Kacela gave him cold and sleeping medicine so he would be alright in the morning; she stayed with him until he fell into slumber before she went to sleep herself.
When the morning sun rose - Damian woke to the smell of pancakes. Kacela made them breakfast and even made sure Damian's phone was placed on the changer. Damian got dressed in a fresh outfit and went to eat with Kacela; who informed him that she got his bike and helmet from the park after he went to sleep; he thanked her, finished his breakfast, and left out the door...with her jacket.
- NOT SO BLIND ANYMORE -
"What do you mean we're over?!" Raven yelled as she stood before Damian.
"Just as I said - I'm done with you, Raven. You're nothing but a gold-digger and a liar, and you only see me as a mess to keep that green boyfriend of yours happy. I'm not giving you anything else but a hard time if you ever show your face again." Damian glared at her, causing her to huff and march away to the school building.
"Whoa, Damian." Jonathan said as he walked over, "You really broke up with her?" He asked.
"I don't have time for gold-diggers and liars." He looked around, "Where's Kacela?" he asked.
"She called and said... Wait, did you just call her by her name? I thought she was a stray?" He said but swallowed when Damian glared at her.
"Never. Call. Her. That." Damian growled.
"Okay. Okay, man - sorry." He said.
"Now, what did she tell you?" Damian asked.
"She said she couldn't come today - there are some major investors that are interested in her company and want to make a partnership, so she won't be in today." Jonathan said.
"Really? Then, I'll speak to her later." Damian said.
"Talk about what? Wait, isn't that her jacket?" He asked.
"Yes." He said, 'But it's more than just that. It's the start of what Kacela and I shall be...together.'
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hopeless-ro-simptic · 3 years
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Familiar Cerulean Eyes - Part 8
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Click here for other parts! Part 9 is up!
Just gonna leave this here.... 
Warnings: heart breaking arguments, also spicey. 
Word Count: 3.5k
TAGLIST: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @operatorsdime @drownedbytears @emilymikado @fluidfandoms @gotagan @mikasackrmann @flowersgirl02 @bohica160 @andrastesbeard @riapxq @percabethismyotp14​
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Your eyes fluttered open, looking up into bright blue eyes that for once didn’t seen familiar. You let out a chirp flinching away from the blondes touch as you tried to sit up.
“Shhh, shhh, Kroshka, Lie back, you are alright.” You sniffed the air cautiously only to be surprised by the soft smell of the omega in front of you. You were in an unfamiliar room, with yet another unfamiliar person. Your body ached but for some reason you expected it to hurt worst. Tiny flashes of what had happened swirled in your mind panic setting in as you were unable to make sense of it all.
“D-dabi… help..” You’re voice was a scratchy whisper, your throat dry.
“It’s okay Kroshka. You’re alpha is right here. I am just here to help.” Sure enough, Dabi was asleep just about two feet down the bed in a chair, face resting on one of his arms, facing you. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping, kind of cute.
You immediately relaxed at seeing him, your omega feeling safe. You glanced back to the omega in front of you, confusing crossing your features. You don’t remember there being an omega in the league before… who was she?
It was like she could read your mind, her immediately answering your unasked question.
“I’m Anna, a friend of Dabi’s, I’m a healer. You hit your head pretty bad, I need to check the wound.”
Your head? You couldn’t feel any pain in your head, you could definitely feel the pain in your stomach though, the rest of your body feeling completely sore, but your head felt completely fine.
Still you let her shift you enough to check behind the wrapping covering the back of your skull. It was weird, you couldn’t even feel her hand back there as she shifted things. You were about to ask her about it when Dabi’s form shifted, his eyes opening to rest on your own. Your heart lept into your throat at the intensity in them.
“You’re awake…” It was like he was breathing a sigh of release, like all of the worries he had ever had melted away at the sight of you. You didn’t understand it. Why was this alpha so concerned about you? Why did he care that much? Was it just his alpha being concerned for an omega that they claimed as theirs? A voice in the back of your mind was whispering the answer to you but it was too muddled to understand.
Anna had finished checking your head, shifting the bandages back into place before guiding you to lay back down. Stepping to obstruct your view of the alpha that you were locked in a stare-down with unable to break eye contact.
“You’re head is healing fine, with my quirk it should only take a couple more hours for it to completely heal, the staples will disappear on their own once it does, and everything should stay numb until they go away as well. You still need to rest, healing takes a lot of energy and if you move around too much you could easily rip a staple out, trust me that will be very awful for you. Dabi has my number if you need anything and I have told him to call me if anything happens. Seriously, anything. If you feel any pain in your head at all, call me..” She was packing up her med kit as she said this, glancing behind her to make eye contact with Dabi to reinforce her last statement.
“I guess I was lucky.” You could still barely manage a whisper, Anna grabbing a water bottle and passing it to you a frown on her lips as you took a drink.
“No you weren’t Kroshka. What happened to you… it’s not lucky and I’m really sorry that you had to go through that.”  
Anna said her goodbyes, leaving the two of you alone to go find Kurogiri to take her home. Dabi’s eyes were back onto your own and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes that you had been holding back since you woke up, memories that you didn’t want flooding your mind. All you could smell was leather and amber and it made you want to gag.
“Princess, what can I do to make things better?” Dabi was hovering just off the bed, looking like all he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms, and for once you and your omega agreed. That’s what you wanted too.
“Make the smell go away.” That was all it took and Dabi was crawling into the bed beside you, careful not to move you much as he gently rubbed his nose along your neck, slowly and gently scenting you, pulling you tight against him. Within minutes you were completely enveloped in the smell of cinnamon, whiskey and smoke.  You wrapped your own arms around his waist hesitantly, pulling him closer to you enjoying the scent, only for him to let out a soft groan of pain.
It was at that moment that you finally noticed he looked almost as beat up as you did. Confusion crossed your features as you slowly sat up, looking him over, much to his complaint as he let you go. His jaw was more purple than normal, his lip was cut, and the tiny amount of stomach that was peaking out under his shirt was bruised as well. You unconsciously ghosted your fingers over the stomach peaking out at you, a soft groan leaving the alpha’s lips again, this time not in pain.
“If you want to do that you’re going to have to wait little mouse, I’m not risking injuring you more right now as much as I’d like to.”
“What happened to you?” You ignored his comment, your omega internally squealing at the thought, your cheeks heating up.
A smirk graced the lips of the alpha laying down on the bed looking up at you, looking quite devilsh as his hand lightly caught your wrist, stopping you from pulling his shirt up further to check for more bruises and cuts.
“I had a run in with your alpha.” The cockiness on his face faded as he saw the realization dawn on your own face. Shoto had fought Dabi? He was looking for you? He was probably on his way! Wait.. was he… is he..?
“Is he okay?” Dabi frowned at the way your voice cracked, you pulling away from him curling in on yourself. One step forward two steps back his alpha growled internally at him.
“He’s fine, a little roughed up maybe, definitely a lot pissed off. He’s probably tracking me down right now, daddy Endevor in tow.” He shifted so that his arms were behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, his face guarded and any emotion missing once again. A perfect poker face of disinterest.
Your omega deflated at seeing his face like that, he had shown you so much raw emotion just minutes ago, yet he shut down so quickly. Like he didn’t care two shits about you. Like he just wanted to prove to the other alpha’s that he was better than them by having you in his grasp.
“Dab-“
“Do you love him?” He cut you off, staring at the ceiling like he couldn’t give two shits about your answer. Like he didn’t just ask that question.
You paused a frown pulling at your lips, you started playing with the charred blanket that was bunched up like a wall between the two of you.
“Not like I’m supposed to.” The words were barely a mumble, and you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes again. Once again you reminded yourself about what a crybaby you were, how was it possible to cry this much? Why did it feel like your heart was being ripped out slowly, the anxiety in the air mounting? You were sure that your scent was turning sour as the seconds ticked by. What was this stupid alpha doing, you were finally having a nice moment and he goes and ruins things?
“What does that even mean?” He continued to act like he couldn’t care less about you. Even when he could see the tears in your eyes from the corner of his own eyes. Even when he could smell the sadness tinging your usual (Y/S) scent.
“It means I don’t want him to be my alpha! I don’t want to be trapped in a loveless bond with him for the rest of my life. I want Touya back! I want … ” Finally the tears spilled onto your cheeks, dripping onto the blanket beneath you as you stared down at it, memories flooding your mind of a red-haired alpha calling you princess, a dark-haired alpha holding you tightly, both having a distinct scent of cinnamon and smoke and cerulean blue eyes that pierced into your soul. Could it be? Or were you just forcing yourself to see something that wasn’t there. It had been so long since you had seen Touya, since you had smelled him. You weren’t even sure you could trust your own memories. Touya was dead after all…but they had never found the body… Could he be?
“Who’s Touya?”
Anger flared up into your body, the tears drying up immediately. There was no way this could be the same person. Touya wasn’t such a fucking ass.
“My alpha.” You gritted the words out. The words feeling way more truthful than the many times you had called Shoto your alpha in the last several years.
Dabi hummed, rolling out of the bed, stretching and turning away from you, hiding his face from you.
“Seems to me like you have quite a few alpha’s little mouse. That’s a bit cruel to them don’t you think?”
“He’s dead you fucking asshole.”
“Is he now? Is that why you’re screwing his brother?”
You froze, hearing the controlled anger in Dabi’s voice. He was upset.. what was his problem?
“I haven’t touched Shoto…” You watched with confusion as the anger in you swirled mixing with the panic settling in as you watched the alpha grab his phone which was lighting up with message after message, putting on his jacket like he was about to leave again.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to go finished killing Mr. Compress off for one, and for two I need to go give Shigaraki a head’s up that your child alpha is probably on his way to kill me.”
“Dabi wait-“
“What?!” Finally the angry alpha looked at you, fighting to keep his tone under control, to keep his face disinterested. He was losing.  
“I never said he was Shoto’s brother.” You tried to keep your voice even, watching as his eyes widened just a fraction. You don’t think you would have noticed it if you weren’t studying his eyes so closely as it was. There was no way he should have known that. Endevor hadn’t flaunted any of his kids except for Shoto, and that was only recently. The uneasy silence that followed ignited a flame in you that you couldn’t ignore. Seconds ticked by as you stared at him, Dabi’s gaze for once anywhere but on you as he tried to come up with an excuse.
All at once it clicked in your brain. Why he chose you at the market, why the smell was so damned familiar, why he knew that you wouldn’t be burnt by his quirk, why he was so angry at the idea of you with Shoto, why your omega yearned for him like no tomorrow, why he was so kind and gentle to you when he was a damned villain who was known for being the exact opposite, why there was a fur blanket sitting halfway in your lap now, too similar to the one from all those years ago. You knew who he was, there was no denying it anymore, and you were pissed.
“You lying son of a bitch. You let me believe you were dead!” You launched off the bed snarling, stalking towards the alpha, anger clear on your face as he backed up with his hands up in mock surrender until he hit the door behind him, closing the both of you in the room.
“Mouse, you need to relax, you’ll hurt yourself,” His voice sounded low and gravelly, a warning, not at all the same as it used to when you were kids. He had changed so much, it was no wonder you hadn’t recognized him. Even his scent had matured, the distinct smell of whiskey mingling in. Not to mention the scars… when exactly had he gotten those?
“You left me alone! In that house! With your father!” You were almost to screaming now as you accused him, only shutting up when he covered your mouth with his hand, switching places, pressing you against the door towering over you, his other arm resting against the door, holding himself up.
“Y/N if you don’t shut up I will make you shut up. Let’s not scream my identity out for the whole League to hear, if you want to scream so bad I will give you a reason to.”  
Your cheeks heated up, how was this the same Touya as the one you had grown up with. How was this the same person. You guessed he wasn’t in a way the same person. He was a villain now, a thug, a murderer. He had grown up in a big way and left you behind.
“You left me.” You mumbled against his hand, it was muffled, but the look in his eyes told you he understood your words anyways.
He looked down at the floor for a moment, licking his lips and steadying himself before he looked back up at you. You deserved to know. He knew you did. You deserved the world, but he didn’t think you would want it from him anymore after this.
“I did. I left you alone in that house, after I promised I wouldn’t. You’re right. I let you believe I was dead, and left you behind and didn’t look back.” You flinched at his words, hiccupping against his hand that was covering your mouth, his thumb moving to wipe at your tears. “I thought he would let you go… I really did princess. I thought he would just take the loss and send you back to your parents, or at least dump you onto the streets where you could find your own way. I never in a million years thought he would just pass you along to that little brat. I didn’t think he would keep you.”
He paused, inhaling your scent, watching your face go through a myriad of emotions unable to settle on one. He had singlehandedly ruined your life. Shoto wasn’t old enough to protect you when Dabi left… meaning Endevor had years to torture you in whatever way he saw fit with no one to stop him. Fuyumi being an omega wouldn’t have been able to do anything, and Natsuo, a beta, had never had the guts to stand up to his alpha of a father. Not to mention even after Shoto was old enough, would he go against his father? He was the favorite child after all. Not to mention all the things that had gone wrong for you since Dabi kidnapped you in the last several days. You have almost died twice already. And all of it was Dabi’s fault.
“You wanted to be free so bad. I thought it was the best way to get us both what we wanted. I thought-”
You yanked his hand away from your mouth, your voice ringing out strong against the quiet room, shocking you both.
“All I wanted was you. I never wanted to be free if it meant I couldn’t have you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Dabi looked down at you, a pained expression on his face. No matter what he did he would just keep hurting you. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t do anything right, other than being a villain. He should have just left things alone at the market. He should have just taken you with him when he left all those years ago. He should let you go now... before the brat gets here. Give you a head-start to a life you deserved.
You could see his thoughts running across his face a mile a minute. He had changed so much since you had known him. He was a completely different person now, yet your omega still knew him, you still knew exactly who he was deep inside. He was the person you missed with every ounce of your being. He was the boy you fallen in love with as children. He was the alpha that you wanted now.  
So for once in your life, you made a choice. Your own choice. You gripped his shirt, pulling him down to you, pressing your soft lips against his rough ones, taking the quiet strangled noise from the alpha as a good sign. It only took a split second for Dabi to react to you, molding his lips against your own, pressing you back against the door as he towered over you. His hands moving to grip each side of your face, tilting it up for a better angle, thumbs wiping away what was left of your previous tears, long fingers tangling into the hair behind your ears.
You let yourself melt into his touch, your grip on his shirt loosening until dropping it all together to warp your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you even still, stepping up onto your tiptoes. You couldn’t help it; your omega was begging you to get closer to the man in front of you and you were done ignoring her.  Dabi was feeling a similar way, his tongue darting out between his lips, running along your bottom one asking for entrance, which you granted with a breathy whimper.
You could tell he had experience, the way his tongue rolled against your own was practiced, slow and almost lazy, the feeling of the cool metal ball contrasting with the heat of his mouth. He was taking his time, exploring you thoroughly, slowly, sensually. You on the other hand could feel yourself heating up, your body aching to be flush against his. You didn’t want to take your time. You finally found your alpha and you just wanted to be marked as his before you lost him again. Your omega was growing antsy, your hips rolling against him on their own, a soft moan leaving your lips at the friction causing the alpha in front of you to chuckle lowly.
“Slow down baby, no need to rush this. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He shifted his lips to your jaw, pressing kisses along it, stopping to nip just under your ear, sucking on the skin there, eliciting another moan from your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulder, your other hand tangling into his dark hair pulling subconsciously, pulling a low growl of satisfaction from the alpha. The sound directly in your ear causing your insides to clench, the smell of your building slick wafting through the room.
You couldn’t help it, the noise building up in your throat and bubbling out with no control as you purred at his touch. It was like your omega had been dying of thirst until the very second he touched you. He was just as affected as you were, melting at the sounds you were making, his hands dropping down, gripping you under your butt, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his hips using the door to hold you as his hands rested under your thighs, kneading them roughly.
You were practically shaking, dropping your hands, dragging them down his body hurriedly, fingers fumbling at the button on his pants, your omega barking at you in your mind to hurry up. You needed this, him, all of him. You were only stopped when one of his hands left your thigh, using the door and one of his knees to help keep  you up as he easily captured both of your wrists in his large hand, holding them tightly together between the two of you, bringing them up only to press chaste kisses right where he could feel your pulse running through them, his eyes watching your own like a predator, his alpha’s fangs dragging against them slowly.
You let out a moan at the sight.  You wanted him. Now.
The world had other plans however, the door suddenly disappearing from behind you, causing you and Dabi to plummet to the floor. Him landing on top of you, causing you to wince at the pain in your stomach, cradling your head to insure you didn’t hit it again. When your eyes focused you were looking up at, once again, an annoyed blue haired alpha.
 You were really starting to hate Shigaraki. 
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dameronology · 3 years
Text
home {poe dameron x reader}
summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep
warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 
more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!
- jazz
p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 
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It had only been five days. 
You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 
The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 
 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 
‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 
‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’
‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’
‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’
‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’
‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’
‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’
‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 
‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’
‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 
You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 
A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-
- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 
His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.
‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’
‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   
‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’
‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 
You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 
‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’
‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’
He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 
‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’
‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 
‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’
‘I promise.’
Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 
You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.
‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 
‘You know I love you, right?’
‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’
Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’
‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’
‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’
‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’
‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’
‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’
‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’
‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 
Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 
On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.
‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’
‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’
It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 
You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 
‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’
‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’
'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’
‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 
You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 
Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 
‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 
‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 
‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’
‘I do.’
‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’
‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).
It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 
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keiths3dart · 3 years
Text
Max in the Black Lodge
Wondering whether to dust this old chestnut off, i have 5 episodes complete so far.
Max in the Black Lodge, a Life is Strange / Twin Peaks Mashup.
Note: For Black Lodge dialogue, the text reads Left - Right as normal but the individual words are reversed and read Right - Left. e.g: AIROTCIV SEVOL EHT D     =     VICTORIA LOVES THE D
Part 1
The wind was blustery that night, speeding through the tree canopy overhead with a constant high pitched hiss like a detuned radio, punctuated here and there by the hooting of owls.
She’d been warned about the owls. What she hadn’t been warned about was just how noisy it could be. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of the night. And she was already tense. Hella tense. 
She’d been tense ever since the prickly subject of Rachel Amber had been raised, she always was, always knew the hold Rachel still held over her lover’s heart and yes Goddammit, she was jealous, and resentful, and insecure, and a lot of other things that might make someone judgemental but Max Caulfield had never claimed to be perfect, never claimed to be someone she wasn’t. She had faults and where she hadn’t learned from them, she had paid for them. Dearly in some cases, repeatedly in others, and blessedly temporarily in certainly the worst she had suffered.
Max scanned the inky blackness for the telltale flickering beam of the flashlight she knew Chloe would be using to see her way around the forest. Finding no sign, she illuminated her own torch as a beacon to her own location.
“Chloe, where the actual fuck are you?” she cursed into the wind.
Chloe had, naturally, gotten separated from Max in the forest, being focussed to the point of obsession with investigating the location provided by the old woman in the Double R. Well, not the woman per se, but actually her log. 
Apparently, it is a long, strange, and sad story according to Shelley, their waitress that morning. Apparently also, this was not the first message to be related via the incongruous length of fir and that “when she said, it said, you should listen closely”.
“Max Caulfield?” she had said, approaching their table as Max and Chloe were enjoying what was arguably the best huckleberry pie in the pacific northwest.
“My Log has something to tell you”.
Chloe and Max had looked at each other, each wondering which one of them had the number for the local psychiatric assessment unit, the wondering becoming outright longing when the woman had leant  in close to Max and whispered;
“Rachel is lost in the Ghostwood, and the owls are watching. You must find the Doe and free it”.
The smart and indeed sensible thing for Max to have done at this point would have been to have discounted every word this obviously crazy old woman was saying, but.. 
Yes, there was always a “but”. 
But how did she know who Max was? she had addressed her by name, had known they were looking for Rachel, had somehow known about Rachel’s link to the Doe that Max had repeatedly seen during her week of time travelling, and that their original reason for driving Chloe’s ailing pickup all the way from Arcadia Bay to the isolated logging town of Twin Peaks deep in the woods, nestled just a few miles from the Canadian border, was because when Rachel’s boyfriend / drug dealer  Frank Bowers had returned to Arcadia Bay sans Rachel, he had said that they had been in Twin Peaks and that Rachel had upped and vanished following an argument between the pair.
Chloe had insisted they head off immediately despite the failing light
Max had wanted to wait until morning, had wanted to tell the Sheriff who they were searching for and to get some local collateral.
 But Chloe was the very definition of headstrong and a clue to Rachel’s whereabouts along with a veiled insinuation that she may be in peril, even if it came from a lump of wood was enough to free her from any semblance of self control. 
Ghostwood was an area of forest formerly supplying the local lumber mill, now lying untouched after the plans of its new owner to construct a tourist complex within the woods fell through sometime in the early 90’s. It was a dark imposing land, densely packed with quick growing conifers and with barely a few forestry trails to travel. It was not a natural and safe environment to go padding about in the middle of the night at the best of times and certainly not in a hoodie and chucks.
Max had stopped. She’d hurt her foot stumbling over a protruding root. Fuck this to fucking fuck, she thought.
“CHLOE!!!” she yelled into the night, but she might as well have whispered, the shout sounded so dampened in the dense forest that she doubted anyone outside of the little clearing she found herself in would have heard her.
The clearing  was a smallish area ringed by what looked in the gloom to be Maple or more likely Sycamore trees with the remains of a stone circle around a charred area on the ground. Obviously, an old campfire site. Max resolved to stay there. Reaching her destination she reasoned was a lot less of an imperative than finding her wayward bluenette. And if she stayed in the clearing and perhaps even set a fire in the circle, Chloe, following the same set of directions as Max had been would be able to locate the clearing. 
And her.
Max hobbled towards the fireplace, the pain in her ankle easing off somewhat. The hooting of Owls punctuated the night as Max looked towards the edge of the clearing, the darkness forming a wall around her. Max suppressed a chuckle, in a certain light it looked more like a heavy deep red curtain, like a cinema drape.
The Owls continued their hooting.
Chloe had gotten separated from Max, and this discomfited her. She knew how jittery Max could become when Chloe was, let’s be honest here, out of rewinding range. Conversations and situations which (from Chloe’s perspective) went perfectly fine but nonetheless culminated in baleful glances from Max as she dabbed at the blood trickling from her nose illustrated full well how much Max looked out for her, smoothing her journey through life. And Chloe loved her for it. But Max could never see that. However deep Chloe’s feelings for her former lover were, Chloe understood and appreciated totally how Max sacrificed herself time and time again for her whereas Rachel had sacrificed her relationship with Chloe to pursue her own happiness. To a girl with abandonment issues, the difference between lust and love was important to know. 
But Chloe still pursued Rachel with borderline obsession not for the reasons Max feared but largely  out of self-preservation. Rachel and Chloe were inextricably intertwined, as were their fates, and if anything fatal happened to her.... Well there were limits to Max’s powers and Chloe, currently into double figures as regards violent deaths, wanted very much to stay alive.
The most important thing, Chloe decided was to find Max, they couldn't have gotten separated by much but nevertheless, Chloe could see no sign of Max's flashlight, had received no reply to her calls, and had heard nothing from her. They couldn't be that far apart, but then again any sound other than the trees and those fucking owls seemed to be swallowed up by the murk.
Chloe swung her flashlight to and fro, looking for a path through the trees, finding the undergrowth to her left slightly more passable, she headed off in that direction. 
And walked straight into the two men she'd failed to notice following a barely discernible footpath northwards.
Max was busy in the clearing, she'd put down her bag and was in the process of setting a small campfire in the stone circle. She fumbled around looking for dry kindling then arranging it in the fireplace, there was a small scrap of paper, presumably left over from a previous fire. Something familiar about it caught her eye so she picked it up.
Shining her flashlight on it revealed it's secret and Max froze. Hypnotised by the text spiralling round to a black blob in the centre. That blob reminded her of something. An image came to her mind. A crude graffiti tag written in black Sharpie. Two phrases now swam in her mind;
“Hole to another universe”.
“Max in the Black Lodge”.
There was a ripple in the darkness, the red drapes she fancied she saw beyond the clearing parted, the piece of paper fluttered to the ground.
Max was gone.
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7team7 · 4 years
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Apron
In which cherry blossoms are familiar and Uchiha history can be found woven into all the fabrics of their household.
A/N: Hi everyone :) sorry for my own lack of posts, but I’m so excited to finally share this! My dear friend and the talented artist ALISS @alisstairs​ and I have been working on this project for a long time and we’re posting this part as a Valentine’s Day treat!! Our twitters are plumbIossoms and a_lisstairs. Please enjoy and look out for the rest of the project when it’s ready to be posted! Please do not repost any of this anywhere.
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Sakura walked through the front door and was immediately greeted by a delicious scent and soft sounds coming from the kitchen — which meant her husband was cooking. The fact that Sasuke was both home early from a mission and cooking dinner was enough to put her in a good mood, so when she saw him standing over the stove, she couldn’t help but break into a big smile. 
“Why’d you get an apron?” Sakura asked when she came up right behind him to peek at what he had set to boil. Sasuke jerked his chin towards his lone arm, “It can get a little messy with just this. I actually bought this for you while I was getting groceries, but I needed it myself for today.”
When Sakura walked in, Sasuke’s back was to her, so she only noticed the strings knotted around his waist that showed he was wearing an apron. Only when he turned around to kiss her in greeting did she realize the apron was pale pink in color and covered in a cherry blossom print. How cute.
“And when were you planning on telling me about this gift?” she asked with the same big smile she wore when she walked in.
“Never. It’s fine if you don’t use it and we just eat out all the time.” Sasuke honestly enjoyed his wife’s cooking, but it was always fun to tease her when everyone else claimed she was the worst. Sai’s pale skin turned a shade of sickly green anytime someone mentioned Sakura’s soldier pills.
Sakura rolled her eyes. Fine, he could just make his own bento next time! 
“Sarada is still with my parents?” she queried instead. “Yes, I figured your mom would refuse to give her up if I attempted picking her up early. We can get her tomorrow morning?” “That sounds good. I only dropped her off this afternoon, so she’ll be fine for a little longer, but I’ll definitely be glad to have her back here. Sasuke-kun, aren’t you tired from your mission? Why didn’t you want to just get take-out or something?” Sasuke’s face fell almost imperceptibly, “You weren’t home when I got back. I wasn’t injured so I couldn’t bother you at the hospital. The house was too quiet without Sarada and I didn’t really have anything else to do.” He said it plainly, but the explanation made Sakura’s heart hurt a little. Coming home to an empty house was a certain kind of lonely feeling. The only downside of Sasuke returning early was that she hadn’t been there to greet him right away. 
“Okay,” she smiled gently up at him, hoping to draw him away from any dark thoughts, “I’m glad you’re making something, I’m starving.” Sasuke nodded, but when his eyes narrowed soon after, Sakura already knew what he was thinking. “Yes, I ate lunch at the hospital. I brought the last of some leftovers.” He nodded again, satisfied.
Sakura moved away from his side to give him some space and started setting the table. “You know, this feels a little like before we had Sarada. Just me and you.” 
“Except we’re not roasting fish over a fire in the middle of nowhere,” Sasuke deadpanned. 
“Hey! You can’t deny that we had some good meals on the road. Well, I think cooking them was usually more fun than eating them because we never knew how they would turn out,” Sakura reminisced.  And she was constantly impressed by Sasuke’s mastery of fire style; every single time he produced the perfect flame for their food. On her birthday, he even humored her and produced a baby flame for a candle they picked up in a random village.
They were able to find some familiar foods during their travels, but there were plenty of new flavors too. Naturally, some were hits, some were misses. The open air markets from the various nations always had something new to offer. 
But having access to a kitchen inside a home was definitely a perk of returning to the village. For Sasuke, Konoha was a place where his home happened to be, and for Sakura, Konoha was always going to be home. Even if they couldn’t control the chaos outside the village walls, they at least had a warm kitchen to always return to. 
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A few days later, Sasuke returned home from the market with another apron, this one specifically for him: it was larger and free of (a specific pink) decoration. He hadn’t noticed how messy they could get while cooking and feeding Sarada until he did laundry recently. He always managed to get sauce splattered on his pants while cooking. Sarada was normally a good eater, but smashed peas often ended up on his shirt after dinner. Even on the darker fabrics he preferred, some stains just wouldn’t come out. 
“Oh, but it’s so plain. At least let me sew the clan symbol on it?” Sakura rubbed the thick material of the apron between her fingers. It was so much longer than hers, Sasuke is so tall! Should she make a pocket? How big should the fan be? Should she sew his name on it too? 
“Sakura the food is burning!” Sasuke was taking off his shoes and playing with Sarada by the door while Sakura examined the apron, so neither of them noticed the rising smoke until it was too late. Sakura rushed back to the stove to turn down the heat, but the damage had been done. Their meal was torched. Toasted. Singed. Seared. Charred. Fire style jutsu-ed. “That’s what I get for trying to speed up the process by using high heat,” Sakura sighed. Work had been long and taxing, she really didn’t want to spend more time chopping vegetables, but dinner wasn’t going to cook itself. 
But thankfully, Sasuke was there to save the day (as he so often did). She felt his large, warm hand come to rest on the small of her back and at first she thought he was just trying to comfort her. But then his fingers fiddled around behind her and undid her apron’s knot. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have distracted you,” he said mirthfully. “I’ll fix it or just make something else. Go sit.” 
Sakura meekly shuffled away, grabbing Sarada to play on the couch. She wondered how she got so lucky. 
After stealing several peeks at Sasuke’s broad back in the kitchen, Sakura carried Sarada over to him. “She wants to know if she can help,” Sakura held Sarada up and covered her own face. Sarada squirmed and babbled in her hands, making Sasuke smile. She would be talking, as in actually able to articulate her own sentences, soon enough.
“She can be our official taste tester.” He wasn’t going to let Sakura worry about dinner, but he also could never deny her attempts at having a little fun. He took a small spoonful of broth and blew on it until it had cooled considerably. He brought the spoon to Sarada’s mouth and guided it in.
She spit half of it up onto her white bib, but giggled loudly afterwards. “I think that means she likes it?”
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“Mom, can I borrow your apron? I wanted to make ChoCho something for her birthday, it’s tomorrow,” Sarada called out from the kitchen where she was poking around and gathering ingredients for a cake. She had only ever made one with the help of her mother, but it couldn’t be that hard, right?
Sakura came in from the living room, “Oh, sure! It might be a little big on you though. We should just get you your own, even your dad has one.”
The thought of her father wearing an apron covered in tomatoes made Sarada freeze. Papa? Has his own apron? 
“Well, he used to use mine, but then we weren’t able to cook at the same time. His would definitely be too big for you.” Sakura opened up a cabinet and pulled out her well-loved cherry blossom apron, plus a larger, blue apron with the Uchiha symbol in the center. It would definitely be too big on Sarada.
But Sarada always missed her father, so she asked shyly, “Can I wear dad’s? I’ll probably get really messy, so I need it to cover all of my clothes.” Sakura smiled at her and helped her put it on. Even though she tied the strings extra tight, Sarada was still swimming in the blue fabric. It didn’t feel wrong, though. 
As she went along with baking the cake, she always made sure to avoid wiping her hands on the clan symbol. After learning about her family’s history, she had a certain reverence for the Uchiha. The fan represented her ancestors, her family past and present, and as silly as it was, she didn’t want to dirty it. When she pulled the finished cake out of the oven, she noticed the intense heat didn’t bother her as much now that she had become more proficient in fire style. 
After frosting the cake with a simple birthday message, Sarada finally cleaned up, satisfied with her work. She was reluctant to take the apron off and part with another piece of her father. She wondered what kind of food he made when he wore this apron. Were there any Uchiha family recipes he could share? Maybe next time he was home, Sarada could make him something too
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A/N: Like I said, this is just one part to a larger project, we will post the full thing soon enough but we’ve been working hard on it for a while. And again do not repost! Show Aliss some love on her accounts pwease she is the best <3 and happy Valentine’s Day!!
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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Eighteen
If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag
June 5th, 1985
“Now come on, Emile, the polite thing to do is to apologize,” his mom coaxed.
Emile stared up at her with a stubborn frown. “He shoved me first!” he said, accusing the boy standing in front of him, his own mother behind him.
“But shoving back is not the answer,” his mother reminded. “Apologize, please.”
Emile sighed but turned to the boy. “Sorry,” he sullenly muttered.
The boy didn’t say anything until his mother nudged him and he said the same. They both walked back to the playground they had been on and looked at each other. “Can we agree that apologizing is dumb and just play tag or something?” the boy asked.
Emile nodded. “Works for me. Saying sorry is only for when you really mean it, anyway.”
  January 7th, 2001
Emile couldn’t deny that things were awkward after Remy’s latest therapy session. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had been trying to avoid Remy the past couple of days so that they didn’t wind up in an argument, or worse, a screaming match.
Of course, things couldn’t stay like this forever, with Emile avoiding Remy and Remy just in general being very quiet and walking on eggshells. It was like he was expecting to be hurt, and it made Emile’s blood boil. So on a day where both of them were exhausted from long shifts, and Emile was stressing over his homework, and Remy was worrying about how much food they had in the refrigerator, Emile slammed a door, Remy jumped a foot and immediately snapped back a, “Hey!” and the dialogue began. “You can’t just slam anything you want when you’re angry, Emile! You know I don’t like loud noises!”
“Yeah, and you’ve never told me why, which leads me to a few unsavory ideas, which is what’s making me angry in the first place!” Emile snapped.
Remy growled. “We’re low on food and we barely have enough money for rent, and you’re angry about something that happened years ago?!”
Emile stilled. “So it did happen?”
“Yeah! My mother had a bad habit of getting angry and slamming doors and yelling! Sometimes at other people, mostly just in general! She’d mock whatever anyone said that set her off, and she’d stomp around like she was out for blood!” Remy’s breath heaved in his chest. “She demanded respect, and perfection, and when she didn’t get it, she’d get angry! That’s normal!”
“That’s not normal, that’s horrifying!” Emile exclaimed. “You’re acting like a living breathing doormat when it comes to your parents! You deserve respect!”
“No I don’t!” Remy said, tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t even hold his scowl in place. “What kind of brat who can’t even be thankful for what his parents did to him deserves respect?!”
It was then that Emile realized he had miscalculated. Remy would talk big and pretend that nothing bothered him, but underneath that, he was still a person who can and did get hurt. And this was clearly a touchy subject. “Everyone deserves respect, Rem. Everyone deserves to be loved unconditionally. And not just from one or two people, either. Everyone deserves respect from everyone else. While they may not be loved by everyone, most people are loved by several other people, in one way or another.” His voice was measured, trying to avoid shouting, and he just hoped that Remy wouldn’t interpret that as anger at him. Emile tilted his head to the side. “Mind explaining why you don’t agree?”
“I...I don’t...” Remy stammered. “I...my parents...my parents don’t have to respect me. I have to respect them. That’s how that works. Respect doesn’t have to be a two-way street.”
“Yes it does,” Emile said firmly. “Remy, everyone, no matter how big or small, gay or straight, young or old deserves respect. Because they’re people. Living, breathing people with all their own experiences, their own emotions, their own opinions. They’re sentient beings. They deserve respect.”
“But...but then...then...why couldn’t...why couldn’t my parents...respect me? If you’re right, then that means my parents...my parents were wrong,” he whispered the last word, glancing around fearfully, and it broke Emile’s heart, dimming the fire that had been burning there not even minutes before. He needed to take the gentle approach, while still being straightforward.
“Yes, it does. Because they were,” Emile said firmly. “Listen, Rem. I’m sorry, but your parents weren’t good people. They treated you badly. They hurt you. If they don’t treat you with respect, then they aren’t respectable in my eyes. Full stop. Everyone deserves respect. Everyone deserves to be loved, and be taught to love, not to fear. Because that’s what they did to you, Rem. They taught you fear instead of love, and you’re paying the price for it.”
Remy’s eyes filled with more tears, as he said in a lost, broken voice, “They said they loved me...”
“Maybe they do. But they certainly don’t show it in acceptable ways,” Emile said, taking the few steps needed to cross the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Remy.
Remy hugged Emile back, sobbing into his shoulder, and Emile just hoped that whenever Remy calmed down, he would take what Emile said to heart, so they wouldn’t have to repeat this conversation over again. He hated when they went through the low in the cycle, where Remy was convinced his parents weren’t that bad, that he was overreacting and being a brat, that this, that, and the other thing were what Emile was wrong about when really, those were all signs that a family genuinely cared for you.
He wanted to destroy Remy’s parents, and maybe his grandparents as well, because clearly, they had to get it from somewhere. His siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins got a pass...for now, at least. Emile wouldn’t destroy Toby, ever, because Remy cared about him too much, and he didn’t know how the rest of his family reacted to Remy’s parents’ outrageous demands. But his parents could rot. And Emile knew that wasn’t productive, and Remy probably wouldn’t want to hear it at this point, so he kept that sentiment to himself.
After some time of them just hugging, Remy broke the hug apart, sniffling and looking away, crossing his arms. “Emile...I think my parents neglected me. Like, the actual legal definition.”
Emile felt the need to fight dim down into nothing, leaving only charred remains of the fire behind. “I know,” Emile said softly.
“You don’t,” Remy said, sniffling. “You have parents who genuinely love you and would never do anything to hurt you, even accidentally. You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through these nineteen miserable years.”
Emile winced. “No, I don’t. I said I know in reference to the fact that what they did was neglect. And emotional abuse.”
Remy sighed. He uncrossed his arms, letting them lay limp as his sides. “I’m tired, Emile. I’m so tired.”
“It’s okay to be tired,” Emile said, “So long as you don’t give up the fight entirely. Take a step back, regroup, and tackle this problem a different way.”
Remy laughed, voice still thick with tears. “Every day, you sound more and more like a shrink.”
Emile laughed with him. It felt like the sun was finally beginning to peek through the clouds. “Yeah, well. I suppose that’s a good thing, considering that I want to be a therapist, right?”
Remy rolled his eyes. “You may see it as a good thing, but I’m not so sure.”
“That’s okay,” Emile said, patting Remy’s arm. “So long as I know it’s a good thing, then you can think what you want. It’s my life, so my opinion is the one that matters most.”
Remy blinked. “See, I understand that in concept, but in practice...that’s never been the case. How does that work?”
Emile shrugged. “I’m not sure, it just...does? Like, I want to do something so I weigh the pros and cons, and if I think it’s a good idea, then I do it.”
“And you just...do it?” Remy asked. “There’s no...”
“No what?”
“No one saying it’s a bad idea, or forbidding you from doing it, or whatever?” Remy asked, waving his hands around.
“No. I mean, yeah, sometimes my friends call me a ‘grade-A dumbass’ but like...that’s just friends joking around together. It’s all in good fun, we’ve established it’s not said as an insult, and if I still want to do the thing, they won’t stop me,” Emile explained.
Remy frowned and shook his head. “That sounds...weird. Unnatural.”
“It’s called independence,” Emile said. “And not everyone gets the same amount of it. You’ve never had any and now, all of a sudden, you have all of it. No one can tell you what to do. If you wanted to you could up and quit your job. You could travel the country with nothing to your name but the van you’re using and an old worn-out guitar. And that’s probably...really overwhelming.”
“Yeah,” Remy admitted, running a hand down his face. “I never know if what I’m doing is the ‘right’ thing. Not in the sense of morals, but more in the sense of if I’m going in the direction I’m supposed to be going.”
Emile winced. That sounded particularly difficult, and he knew that a lot of adults struggled with that. “You don’t have to know that, not right away,” Emile said. “You might never know, and that’s okay. So long as you’re happy where you’re at, you have to be doing something right.”
Remy let out a breath and nodded. “I’m...I’m sorry for yelling earlier.”
“So am I,” Emile said. “And I’m sorry for slamming the door.”
Remy waved him off. “All things considered, it’s not the worst thing you could have done. And it got us talking again.”
“Still, I caused a flare-up in your trauma. That’s...really not cool,” Emile said.
Remy shrugged. “I won’t hold it against you,” he said.
“You’re being too kind,” Emile said.
“Nah,” Remy said. “If anyone else were to do that, I wouldn’t have forgiven them so easily. But this is you we’re talking about. You never hurt me on purpose, rarely do it on accident, and always apologize if you do.”
Emile blinked. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Obviously, he didn’t want to hurt Remy, because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. But at the same time, Remy saw that as a big deal. And now Emile knew why, and it made his heart break more. “Of course,” Emile said. “That’s the right thing to do.”
Remy’s smile was a bit bitter. “You see, you say that, but not everyone agrees. That’s why you’re so important, Emile. Because you see those things that might hurt me as things that might hurt me. And rather than taking your chances, you avoid them. You’re...you’re important. To me.”
Wow. “You’re...putting a lot of faith in me,” Emile said.
Remy shrugged. “I like to think that you would have the same faith in me. If not now, then one day. When I know what I’m doing when it comes to making friends, and being a normal human being.”
“Rem, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years,” Emile said, giving his friend a small grin. “It’s that there’s no such thing as a ‘normal human being.’ No need to strive for something that doesn’t exist.”
“What should I strive for instead, then?” Remy asked.
Emile shrugged, looking around. “Why not being happy where you are? Being happy with who you are? Just...loving the moment. That’s always been my goal in the past, and I think it worked out well for me.”
“You think so?” Remy asked.
“Yeah, I do. I mean, I’m happy to be here with you, and studying all the while to follow my dreams. It’s nice,” Emile said. “And while it’s not the perfect situation, and we definitely need to figure out where to cut back in expenses so we can afford more food, and maybe a chair or two, it’s nice. I’m not sure if there is such a thing as a ‘perfect situation’ in all honesty. So I just relax, remind myself of why I’m happy, and just like that, my mood improves, and I’m content.”
“Wow. You...clearly do not have that many mental health issues,” Remy laughed.
Emile shook his head. “You worry me, Rem. I’ve had my bad days, but it’s true that I haven’t struggled with depression, or PTSD, or anxiety to the degree you have. It’s still a therapeutic technique that helps, though. I’d recommend trying it.”
“Right, because that will solve all my problems,” Remy sighed.
“It’s not meant to solve all your problems.”
“I know it’s not, I’m just not looking forward to trying it,” Remy said. “But for you, I’ll give it a shot.”
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buck-nialled · 4 years
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Protector of Girlfriend - N. Horan Imagine
NOTE: a continuation to my angel!niall imagine “Featherlight”, where he meets your parents. 
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Typically, when you bring the topic of meeting the family up to your significant other, it would leave him shaking in his boots. At least, that was how your prior boyfriends would react to the proposal.  And each one you asked always had some excuse, whether it be that they felt it was “too soon” even though you brought the idea up six months into the relationship. Another past affair claimed his job was more important, a big red flag which was an impetus for you to call things off with him soon after.
You were awaiting a similar reaction from Niall when you invited him hesitantly over dinner and asked how he would feel introducing himself formerly to your parents. It is times like these, where your heart was pounding in anticipation and the pauses for his answers felt too long. All of the possible scenarios in how could he say “no” were reeling in your mind like a film.
Until you remember that Niall Horan is an angel at heart.
He did not believe in bad days. Hell, he did not believe the adjective “bad” or any word near it could describe anything. After nearly burning your house down trying to cook him a meal, he ate the charred chicken sparingly and called it “toasty.” Any time it rains, he thinks of all the plants that need watering and all of the cars that could use a hefty washing. Yours included, which you always seemed to forget needed proper maintenance on its exterior. So when you prompted Niall to join you on your next visit to your parent’s house, he was overjoyed.
This only meant he was a step closer to you in your relationship. He would finally meet the woman who cared for you nine months and the eighteen years afterward before he had the chance to. Niall found honor in the thought of introducing himself to the man who thought of his kind like he thought everybody should; caring, endearing, protective.
One minor detail that you failed to mention to your parents was that Niall was not one hundred percent human, as he appeared to be on their doorstep the following week. He donned a navy blue button-down, which made his charming blue eyes pop. Glasses framed his eyes and complemented the tan slacks that made him look overall mature and worthy of looking after somebody's daughter.
Niall’s warm hand met your father’s, who held a gaze so cold, he almost felt tremors run down his spine and to the tips of his hidden wings. Your father was an intimidating man only by appearance. Secretly, he was a big softie but would rather die than to admit such a thing. You and him both knew he was only interested in why this one boyfriend of yours out of many agreed to meet him and your mother (who took in Niall with open arms).
You could see Niall’s tense stance physically relax as your mother took him in her embrace. Something you and your mother both had in common, Niall informed you later, was the calming aura both of you held. And the fact that you both give great hugs and could not cook a proper meal to save your lives.
Following the initial, interrogating questions thrown at him over the dinner table, Niall had your father finally warming up to him. You think it was when Niall brought up his passion for golfing that your father was internally swooning. In fact, when Niall first mentioned his infatuation for the sport, a small part of you thought ahead to the exact moment when he and your father would rattle on about it endlessly.  
Towards the end of the night, you squeezed Niall’s hand that rested atop of your thigh and looked towards him. He nodded to confirm he was ready to share his secret with your parents and cued you to introduce it. Though his heart rate was unusually rapid, Niall kept his posture appropriate and the food in his stomach.
“So mom, dad there’s uh…something you should know about Niall.” You bit your lip and felt the man sitting beside you tighten his grip on your hand.
“What is it, hun?” Your mom was curious, but your dad was suspicious. He sat back in his seat, arms crossed and an eyebrow quirked you show he was somewhat interested.
“Your daughter tells me you’ve met angels, sir.” Niall’s voice shrunk as he neared closer to the word. “Is that correct?”
"Angels...oh Y/N don't tell me you told him-" A sigh of disdain left your father's lips making your heartbeat catch up to Niall's in an instant. "Honey, those were just silly old stories I used to make up." Your father waved his hand about as if the topic were a fly he was swatting away. You felt your bottom lip jut out in a slight pout, now feeling doubtful about sharing Niall's secret at the table.
"B-but you used to tell me about all the angels you met. And-and what they were like and--"
"Those were just to get you to sleep, darling. I didn't know you took them so seriously. Nobody's seen an angel on earth unless they're crazy." He scoffs, lifting his glass of iced water to his lips to take a sip.
"I'm not crazy," you mutter under your breath, your eyebrows turning downward. Niall squeezes your hand in comfort, though it feels like you should be the one doing that to him.
"So...so you don't think they're real?" You can tell this topic is aggravating your father the more you talk about it, but you could not deny your interest in his philosophy.
"I can't believe in something that isn't there, Y/N. I know there have been "sightings" and such but c'mon...those things are as real as bigfoot." He declares. Eyes wide and tainted with sadness, you look to your mother for her take on it.
"Honey, we just told you those stories because you liked listening to them. We thought eventually you'd find out they weren't real. Like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy." She shrugs, helpless to your downtrodden state.
"But what if they are real?" Your parents look up at you, along with Niall. The table is silent for a few seconds, egging you to continue. "I-I mean...what if I told you I saw one."
"Honey...are you on drugs?" Your father's tone hardens, face filled with befuddlement at what you were spewing at them.
"No, I just--"
"Then how did you see it?" Your father's voice cut through your own, which was growing meek.
"It...showed me." You murmur. "It showed me its...wings."
"Showed you its...forget it. If you're on something--"
"I'm not--" you begin refuting, almost laughing in disbelief by how isolated your father's mind could be.
"Whatever you're doing, don't do it under my roof. Okay? Good. We're done talking about this, then."
"But dad--"
"I said, end of discussion Y/N."
Moments of silence passed, the only noises being made was a heavy sigh of defeat leaving your chest, and your mother clinking her silverware against the plate. But another thing you and your mother had in common was your abomination of awkward silences. Just as Niall's stiff frame was about to relax in the dining chair again, your mother asked, "what was that thing we should know about Niall?"
Your lips parted, and your eyes turned up to meet his fearful blue ones. You certainly had not planned for any answer other than the truth. But clearly, your father would refuse to listen to it. And frankly, you were scared of what his reaction would be if Niall did sprout his pair right now, considering the conversation which had just transpired.
"My house...it's quite spacious. Y/N's lease is going to be up in a few months...I was wanting to get your permission first to have her move in with me. It's got a couple of guest rooms. You two are welcome to spend the night for yourselves anytime and see." Niall sputtered out with a few shaky breaths in between.
"Why, that sounds lovely." Your mother sent a smile in Niall's direction while your father just hummed, staring down at the porcelain cleared of food. After that, dinner concluded with Niall offering to help your mother clear the table and wash the dishes. You stayed behind with your father, who sat unmoving in the wooden dining chair.
"I'm not on anything, by the way." You mumble with a frown on your face. "Never have been. Never will be."
"You sure about that?" He remarks and flicks his eyes to the kitchen when he hears your mother and Niall giggling through their conversation.
"He hasn't done anything either. I just...wanted to know your thoughts on the subject."
"I told you we aren't talking anymore abo--"
"I know that. Just forget I brought it up...it's stupid." You say upon turning your heel and pivoting back towards the hall. You see Niall and your mother standing in the kitchen's doorway and you spare neither a glance as you trudge down the hallway.
Due to your childhood home being quaint in its size, your father (with some reluctance) agreed for you and Niall to share your bed. The only rule he enforced was that no funny business would occur beneath his roof, which Niall promised he would follow. One thing you did not miss about staying overnight at the house was your old bedroom. Particularly your bed, still unchanged from when you had moved to college with the same itchy comforter, firm pillows, and hellish mattress that was littered with bumps and divots in the worst places. But somehow, like everything else, Niall made it better.
He let a small groan fall from his lips as he rested up against the headboard. The wife-beater he adorned underneath his button-up was grabbed by his fingers and flung off of his body in seconds.
“Not that I’m complaining…” you begin, allowing your fingers to run up and down Niall’s stomach, “but my dad said no funny business, remember?” You look up at Niall, raising your eyebrows at him.
He simply shook his head. “Not what I had in mind.” His breathing grew labored, and at the sight of the muscles flexing in his back, you turned away. You loved this man, but even after shifting a dozen times in front of you, your eyes could not bear to witness it.
A sudden softness enveloped your body, warming you up to the perfect temperature and acting as a safety blanket. One of Niall’s wings supported your back as no mattress could, and you felt your body sink into it like quicksand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d totally make a blanket out of these things…” you moan out, sandwiched between Niall’s chest and wing. He looked frightened but noted to take it as a compliment rather than a threat.
His wing flexed against your side and brought you even closer in proximity to his face, which resulted in your lips connecting moments later. When they parted, you opened your eyes to a blurred sight of Niall, bare-chested, and with a frown at the sight of tears racing down your cheeks. One of his hands came to rest on the back of your head, before gently urging it down to meet his chest.
"I'm so sorry." You repeated, sobbing against his warm skin and sniffling in between words. "I'm so sorry." Niall only shushed you and combed his fingers through your locks in comfort. It was his way of saying apologies were not necessary, especially from you.
"I thought they'd be more understanding. Or at least..at least l-listen to me." Your throat tightened as your breaths became more labored. You tried matching the rising and falling of Niall's chest while still keeping your cheek against it but it proved to be a challenge with a new onslaught of tears pouring from your eyes every few seconds.
"I want them to love you. I want them to accept you and know you as I do."
"They do accept me," Niall replied, thinking back to all the good parts of dinner, and even afterward with your mother in the kitchen. You simply shook your head against his chest and looked up at him with your eyes stinging.
"Not all of you." Your whisper was cracked and made it difficult for Niall to continue comforting you. Admittedly, he was a bit offended by your father's visceral reaction to dispute his kind's existence. However, it was clear you felt a new level of heartbreak over the dinner table.
"But some of me. And that's a start, right?" All you could do for a moment was stare at him in awe. Pure disbelief ran through you at his response.
"How can you still be so positive after all of this?"
"Well, I still have one person who will accept me...and she's right here in my arms, snuggling me. What more could I need?" His gaze was heartfelt and sincere as he stared down at you. Your tears were slowly dissipating by each blink of your eyelids, now feeling incredibly heavy.
"Hey," Niall says in a hushed tone, "wanna hear a story? A real one?" Your lips curled up and you shook your head up and down, wrapping an arm around Niall's abdomen.
"It's about this angel named Niall, you may have heard of him. The boy was a bit big on the whole "love at first sight thing" but he'd never truly experienced it. Until one day, the most gorgeous human you'd ever seen came along..."
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tabletopjourneys · 3 years
Text
Session 34 Notes
The Silver Scale Pack finishes clearing Perfection of its worm and shrieker problem, then continues off-road until they arrive safely in Longview to meet Rana's mother.
@gher-bear @aradow @telurin @epimetala
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On this day we find a dead worm, kill more shriekers, and then return to town. There we find out that Ixayl'anu's elk had an encounter of his own, saving the camels all by himself! We don't see what flying thing caused the ruckus though and call the townspeople back to safety with mirror communications. Edea takes over and we continue on our way to Longview. Along the way, we sight a thunderbird storm and find wondrous treasure in some long-abandoned wagons. Eventually we end up in Longview, upon which we immediately exit to the outskirts and meet Rana's mother, Romy. Then we end the session with a level up! Welcome to level 8 SSP!
(Read More)
(Taking a Long Rest) Before Diem goes to sleep, they recast tiny hut, rolls an 8 on watch, Rana rolls a 17. She can see the lip of the valley and sees a flash of light.
She gets a 13 survival check on mirror glint communication and recognizes this is an all clear? morse code with mirrors thing. Rana nudges Phi about it to see if she knows this mode of communication better or at least has a mirror on her as well.
Phi hands over her small mirror with a silver handle.
Rana assumes it’s Edea, messages the number 1, spells out worm, flashes “message received”
After a brief moment she gets back “not visible/query not found”
Rana: “Message received”
Rana tells Phi what was said back and forth, then leans over the building and tells Diem as well.
Phi and Ixayl’anu’s watch: 14 Ixayl'anu, 19 Phi
At 1 or 2am the most god-awful scream they’ve ever heard in their life, coyote mixed with a rabbit, loud and wailing and pained. It wakes Rana up.
Phi knows it’s deeper into the valley.
Rana scrambles to look down and check on us on the ground. Phi continues investigating and gestures the approx direction for Rana.
It continues for about 10 minutes.
Diem finally wakes up “What? Huh? What the fuck is that?”
Phi 27 perception out in the valley. She sees off in the distance and with a fairly good idea of what they look like, she sees one completely on top of the ground way off in the distance, mouth open, she can see it is “beached” and making this noise.
She pokes Rana and points it out, then whisper yells over the edge at us about it being one of the worms.
Rana with perception 7 thinks she can kinda make it out.
Phi: Half mile, ¾ of a mile.
It tapers off though and everything is quiet, too quiet afterward.
Phi keeps her eye on that worm.
Come morning, Diem gets 3 charges back on their band of shocking grasp and recasts tiny hut as we wake up, just to keep it there until it’s no longer needed.
Rana checks again in the morning and what she thought was the worm was a rock (17 perception this time)
Rana: Let’s go check out that worm.
We discuss what’s up while snacking on rations and getting ready to go. Rana and Phi bring their rats with, but we leave the albino shrieker in its box in the shade.
(Investigating a dead worm - more shriekers!)
We spread out walking toward the beached worm, Rana in front.
With a perception check of 20, Phi stops as she catches dust in the distance, but it turns out to be an actual dust devil instead; no poof poofs of worms.
Before we can even see the worm, we smell it super bad, the worst dead thing that’s been sitting in the sun, putrifying. We see it now and it’s not moving.
Rana: Was this here yesterday?
Phi: Not until last night when it started making noise.
Rana: Does it look like its been dead longer than it actually has? With a medicine check of 4, it looks fairly together. She remembers Edea did a blight spell but this doesn’t look like that.
Diem covers their nose and investigates. It’s still not moving, mouth is open, tongues are not moving.
Phi tries to shoot it, nothing happens, looks like she just hit a hay bale with it.
Rana: Well we can message Edea and tell her the last worm is dead.
Ixayl'anu: A worm is dead, are we sure it’s the last one?
Rana shrugs.
Diem keeps walking around until they finally see blood all over the ground on the other side of the worm. Eventually they get to a better angle as everyone goes around it the other way. They finally see there are no insides, it’s been hollowed out. They tell everyone else.
Ixayl'anu tries to investigate as well, but doesn’t learn much.
Diem takes a 12 investigation, sees foot prints that look like they could fit shriekers and the hole in the worm hide is ragged.
Rana walks up and smacks it hard but nothing happens.
Diem startles: Shit, Rana.
Looks like a scuffle in the area, mess of prints, two sets leading away, headed toward the other side of the Rim.
Rana: Let’s follow them.
Ixayl'anu: Do we wanna leave a message for Edea?
Rana: If you have a way to leave a message…?
Ixayl'anu: You’re the one who wants to impress her
Rana: I have a mirror.
We don’t have anything substantial to report to check in though so we decide to follow the tracks, Rana in the lead with a 21.
We see them go off into the distance.
Investigation for Rana tells her there are two sets of footprints, we gather there were 3 total.
This worm is roughly the same direction as our 2 lost shriekers, we walked through some slightly charred field, but this is quite a bit farther out than where we last saw the on-fire shriekers.
We are only barely still in sight of town. The farther we get form town, the more on edge Rana gets.
Rana sees a glob of blood and fur along the way, we keep moving while Rana makes sure we don’t get lost as we go. None of us are being stealthy, we’re trying to stick close to rocks though whenever possible.
Phi hears wet crunching sounds ahead, ripping wet munching noises.
Phi makes a stopping gesture at all of us: waitwaitwaitwait did anybody else hear that?
Only Rana hears it now too: I think they caught something else.
Ixayl’anu gets up on a rock to try and see (16): She gets the gross scent she’s learned to associate with these creatures.
We send Phi ahead to scout over the rock, stomach crawling over the top. 28 stealth: Phi sees 2 shriekers eating a dead cow. She turns her head and plays charades. Mouths “cow” then corrects to “two”
Rana to the rest of us: There are two cows, they probably belong to the village, let’s go get them. *she starts walking around to fight them*
Phi gets ready to fight as well seeing her getting ready to fight.
(Another shrieker fight)
The shriekers scream at Rana as soon as they raise their little heat sensors - she makes her save.
Rana: They’re not cows guys!
Phi takes a surprise round shot but misses. She shoots again and does 16dmg to pink - she uses her bonus action attempting to hide by sliding down the side of the rocks and moving back. 24 stealth check.
Blue rushes Rana and bites at her.
Rana flame blades, but misses. Fiery scimitar sticks around though and it will serve as a bonfire of sorts if Edea is looking at us.
The creatures LOVE it mmm so much lovely heat.
Pink also charges Rana and tries to bite the sword, bites through to no effect.
Diem rushes up and hits with one shot of eldritch blast for 3dmg.
Ixayl’anu rushes forward and takes a swing at pink, miss, hit, 9dmg.
Phi runs forward to shoot at them from behind, misses, and has no movement left to hide.
Blue tries to bite Rana with disadvantage, but hits anyway and deals 14dmg
Rana tries to stab blue with her sword, does 6 fire dmg.
These guys do not look previously charred.
Pink tries to bite Rana and her beautiful sword again, but misses.
Diem tries to parkour up the lower portion of the rock, makes it, casts eldritch black at pink, but misses both strikes.
Ixayl'anu hits pink for 8dmg, misses her 2nd strike.
Phi shoots at blue and gets a crit! 34dmg, blue is bloodied by it. Phi bonus action hides in a pile of rocks. 13 stealth - she feels sorta secure...
Blue bites at sword/rana and misses
Rana swings at blue but misses.
Pink bites at Rana and misses.
Diem casts eldritch blast at blue for 16dmg total (one crit)
Ixayl'anu slashes at pink, misses, misses
Phi has to do a con save and passes as purple screams at her from behind. It jumps down.
The others scream as well, Ixayl'anu and Diem make their saves though while Rana is immune from her previous success.
Phi runs forward (directly east) around the rocks and away from purple, she shoots at blue, misses, dashes farther away again (over 50ft away from purple)
Blue misses Rana.
Rana swings at blue, misses.
Pink misses.
Diem hits blue for 16dmg total again, kills it.
Ixayl'anu swings at pink 11dmg, misses with 2nd strike.
Purple charges Phi and takes a bite - 10dmg, she uses evasion to take only 5dmg.
Phi switches to her daggers and hits with both for a total of 13dmg, bonus action disengages, uses her movement to be closer to Ixayl'anu, slightly behind and a few paces east.
Rana stabs at pink and deals 6dmg.
Does purple look previously charred? No.
Pink bites at Rana and her sword, just barely misses.
Diem sees purple hungering after Phi and decides to try and help draw its attention toward them - Rana and her fiery sword all bright and tasty looking between. They hit purple with eldritch blast for 10dmg total.
Ixayl'anu hits pink for 7dmg, misses 2nd strike.
Purple turns around, sees the sword, but Ixayl'anu is closer so it attacks her and misses.
Phi attacks with her daggers and does 24dmg total, efficiently killing it. Phi disengages.
Rana swings at pink, deals 14dmg, killing it.
(After battle investigations)
Rana lets go of her flame blade, but keeps the remaining 10minutes of concentration to summon it back as a bonus action. She checks the cow for more information (10) it is very dead, nothing otherwise out of the ordinary.
The rest of us look around, Ixayl'anu gets a nat 20 investigation (19). She finds a shrieker halfway up the cliffs purple came from.
Rana and Phi check in on their rats, then Rana tries to climb up to the molt (17) and tries to chuck it down to the ground. It feels like a chitinous fiberglass body and cracks a little bit when tossed down.
Rana nature checks 16 - the molt is maybe slightly smaller, she survival tracks purple’s prints (another 16), it went up at the top of the ridge, previously it was following along equally with the other two, so probably the results of that 3rd set of tracks.
Diem investigates the molt for burning and finds some, points it out to Rana. It’s definitely something left over from one of yesterday’s on-fire runners, possibly from one of the three we just killed, after they shed their damaged skin.
Molt is 10-15 lbs - Rana shoulders it.
We follow purple’s tracks back to the worm, confirming all three of the shriekers we just killed were involved in wormicide.
Rana leads us back to town from there.
We talk about the 3 we killed, the 2 that got away yesterday (and whether they are the same) and handling the infestation only until we feel confident the villagers can take care of the rest.
When we get back to town we go check on the albino shrieker, Ixayl'anu cracks the lid to see if it’s still there. Little snout pops out and snaps at her fingers, gets one of her plate-gauntleted fingers before she shuts the lid.
Rana and Ixayl'anu were paying attention enough with their nature rolls they notice it’s larger than yesterday but still not as big as the other guys. There’s definitely not enough space for another one in that box. It is still all white.
Ixayl'anu squeezes a ration in there with it - it’s like trying to feed a crocodile through the fence.
Rana climbs back up to last night’s roof and pulls out her mirror, studying where the mirror flashes were yesterday.
Phi looks around to see if the town looks empty still since we’ve been gone. 20 investigation: Town looks pretty close to how we had left things. As she gets closer to the camels, she hears the elk making angry elk noises, self consoling and all worked up.
Phi tries to parkour up the building near them.
Rana starts the mirror flashes for hey look here hey hey. Listen!
Diem: Maybe we could build a bonfire somewhere and see if it draws in any more of the little ones?
Rana: (while flashing hey hey pattern) Let’s check in with Edea and see if the town people want to return first.
Edea responds with a “here/listening” mirror glint.
Rana: “All clear maybe.”
Edea: “Okay to return?”
Rana: “Should be.”
Edea: “We’ll return.”
(Ixayl'anu's elk is a hero! Recognize!)
Back to Phi parkouring up building (14 - makes it up okay); looks out into the distance at what might be wrong, elk is tossing his head and claims more space than the camels who have edged away. When he sees Phi, he bugles something, trying to tell her something and stomps his hoof and brandishes his antlers.
Phi looks out into the distances with a 24 for threats. Nothing in the distance.
Phi: Down boy (assumes elk is just not happy, elk snorts at her as she leaves).
Phi comes back: Your elk is not liking the camels, or the camels don’t like your elk, something is going on down there.
Before Phi gets back, the elk telepathically says to Ixayl'anu: I defended the camels successfully, be proud of me! *smug* your camels are safe, there was a huge battle and I defended them well.
Ixayl’anu makes her way down there anyway. On the way she describes shriekers to the elk
Elk: No it was flying like a bird
Ixayl'anu: Was it a bird?
Elk: It was weird, but it was flying so it must be a bird.
Ixayl'anu looks up but doesn’t see anything.
Rana and Diem check in on their camels
Ixayl'anu tells us it wasn’t natural, but none of us see flying creatures.
Ixayl'anu to elk: How big was it?
Elk: It was as big as me!
Ixayl'anu relays this.
Ixayl'anu: Did it smell?
Elk: The camels smell...
Rana casts speak with animals and asks her camel what happened.
Her camel is very upset by something large attacking from the air. The elk did scare it off, but now he’s been showboating about it ever since and the camels just want out.
Rana: Have you seen the thing from the sky before
Camel: No
Rana casts stone shape and makes a 5X5 passage, 1ft off the ground, carefully leading camels through the doorway and handing them off to people. Rana is playing tetris with stonework and camels, and she tries to explain to them what she’s doing, guiding them out - 20 animal handling check.
Animal handling for our camels handed over (5 from Ixayl'anu, elk’s antlers get stuck), I get a 9, Phi gets a 4, they are just too eager to be out. Phi’s camel picks her up, holding onto halter lead and goes trotting off into the greenery.
Diem’s drags them away from quicksandy dead worm area in the opposite direction, further into town rather than toward brush, but Diem does manage to see a little throughway and eventually the camel heads that way, Diem going with it to the little oasis area.
Rana helps Ixayl'anu with the last camel to get it to the brush.
We take a short rest as we wait for Edea.
Diem keeps their eyes on the skies but only rolls a 5 on perception.
Rana does the same, rolls 12, but she’s more interested in playing with her rat and there’s a lot of leaves in the way besides.
(Townspeople Return)
We eventually hear/see Edea with the group of villagers heading into the main building from across the pond. We hear large exclamations.
Rana: I think she’s here.
We go with her.
Edea is impressed by our pile of bodies
Rana warns Edea about what the elk saw, but we haven’t seen any indication. We still don’t.
Edea: We’ll keep an eye out, we didn’t see anything on our way into town either.
Rana: Don’t know if you guys heard that shrieking last night?
Edea: Yep.
We catch her up to that and the molt, edea wants to see it.
Edea: I’ve never seen anything like these creatures but I certainly wouldn’t have expected them to molt.
Rana: They look mammalian to me.
Edea: They’re definitely not insects.
Rana: Oh yeah and Ixayl'anu found a pet.
Ixayl'anu: Oh yeah (something I missed for notes)
Rana fills Edea in about el blanco’s details.
Edea volunteers to take the molt off our hands to the other druids of her circle.
Rana: As far as we can tell they love fire and heat
Diem: We thought we might light a bonfire before we leave, make sure nothing else comes after it before we move on.
Edea studies el blanco, then wrangles it, mouth together and ropes it closed.
Edea: It’s definitely malformed, compared to the other ones.
Edea pokes at the flaps and peels them up a little bit, it screams and struggles more: It definitely sees via these organs. What are you planning on doing with this one?
Rana gestures at Ixayl'anu
Ixayl'anu: (More words I missed for notes) definitely doesn’t need to come with us anywhere, just thought it might be useful to study.
Edea: Well, this was always intended to be our splitting off point anyway.
Rana: Yeah, I can get them to Longview from here.
Ixayl'anu: Yeah if it’s useful to study, we can leave it here.
Edea: Yeah this and the molt could tell us quite a bit.
Ixayl'anu: Not attached, just holding onto it as something we can maybe do something with.
Rana: Camels are by the oasis, they made it through just fine.
We talk things over, Earl comes out and sees shrieker pile “What in tarnation is going on here?”
Rana: Feel free to add to the pile
Earl: Val come look at this!
Val comes out to look.
Our plan is to wait out the heat of the day/afternoon. Diem sets up a tiny hut and we inform Edea of as much as possible.
Edea is now treating us all as competent and she’s giving us more respect as a result.
We begin our trek out of the valley toward Longview, none of us catching on that Rana is taking us slightly off-path from our plans.
Encounter roll of 19 from Ixayl'anu.
(Thunderbird sighting)
As we get to the far side of this canyon, beginning to climb out of it, we can see a lot farther than before, more regular level desert, far off into the distance, 10-20 miles away a huge thunderstorm is brewing, lots of lightning it looks real bad.
Perception checks Diem 1, Ixayl'anu 5, 23 Phi, Rana 22
Rana (excited and worried both): We need to get under cover right now! We can’t be out in the open when that thing gets here. I have never seen one but I think this is a thunderbird. I don’t think it’ll bother us if we leave it alone, but we need to get out of its way.
Phi: Is that bigger than a roc?
Rana: About the same size. I have never seen one...though it looks about the size of a roc.
Survivals: Rana 13, Diem 8, Phi 18, Ixayl'anu 6
We don’t really find a good spot. We find an overhang though, but not a big enough space for the tiny hut. We manage to be out of line of sight. It was coming toward us as we were looking for a spot.
To Diem (perception 4) it’s like being caught out in a hurricane.
Rana tries to get a look 17, Phi 11, Ixayl'anu 20
This bird is mad, something has pissed it off.
Ixayl'anu to her elk: This isn’t the thing is it?
Elk: *huddled* no this is not what I saw
We’re soaked to the bone, but it’s a warm rain. We watch for a good hour or so, we see it make a couple of dives in the desert but not near Perfection.
Phi wonders aloud if it’s mad about these new abominations in its land and it’s come to take it back and wash it clean.
It makes a couple of passes over the valley and then goes back where it came from to the North.
Rana: *grinning* Let’s not do that again.
Diem: That was AWESOME
Ixayl'anu is excited about the lightning.
Diem takes a long time to prestidigitation us all dry.
Rana picks up the lead again.
Survival rolls to get our bearings again diem 6, Ixayl'anu 7, rana 10, phi 17 - we’re pretty confident Rana knows the way.
Rana knows it would take another full day to get to Longview and looks for a game trail toward it instead of Bouldergap as we had planned (not that any of us catch on to the fact we’re off course out here.
It takes us awhile and we’re meandering a little. It takes us past dusk before we find a suitable area and begin setting up camp.
Phi: Rana, I don’t even see this path anymore...
Rana: That’s because we’re not on it. I use this path all the time, we’re almost certainly not lost *smiling*
Phi: Alright I trust you.
Diem casts alarm around the animals, then summons the tiny hut, coloured to blend with the desert sand.
Rana nat 20s first watch. Coyotes in the distance, lovely night, natural sounds, everything’s peachy.
She’s in a good mood when she wakes Phi up: It’s a great night.
Phi: Happy to be home?
Rana: More than a little. I like Rethwellian but it’s a little too green for my tastes
Phi: Well so far this desert has been nice but also a little smelly sometimes
Rana: In our defense, it’s usually not like that, hopefully they’ll be gone soon, maybe that thunderbird washed them away.
Phi: Hopefully
Rana: Alright goodnight
Phi: Goodnight
Perception 26, nothing really changes though she’s not as comfortable as Rana is.
On Diem and Ixayl’anu’s watch, Diem recasts tiny hut. Ixayl'anu gets 7, Diem gets a 4. Diem draws a bad rendition of the thunderbird in their dream journal (maybe because they didn’t get to see it so well lol).
OOC we rule that Diem doesn’t have to worry about timing and recasting tiny hut moving forward, it’ll last for as long as we need it.
Nice clear morning, Rana is pumped and ready to go, already on the camel as we climb out of our bedrolls.
(Lost treasure on the sandy deer trails)
Rana rolls a 6 for encounters - a few hours in, 10/10:30 we come to a scattering of splintered wood and strewn wagon wrecks up ahead. Rana stops because this isn’t supposed to be here. Even with an 8 she sees a wagon wheel.
Ixayl'anu: What, what’s going on?
We get close and see the remains of wagons.
Diem: Think this could be that missing caravan?
Rana: It’s possible, but we’re no longer on that path.
Ixayl'anu goes over to look at identifying marks on crates/wagons/flags
Rana perception checks around the area, Diem goes with her (22, 11)
Phi helps Ixayl'anu. She notices the wood is bleached and weathered, sitting in the sun for years and years.
Ixayl'anu: How long does it take for wagons to start looking like this? Doesn’t it take awhile?
Rana walks up.
When Ixayl'anu scrapes it with a claw it splinters like over-dry wood
Rana 10 investigates it, and agrees - very weathered and bleached, flags are tattered and bleached, light pink maybe used to be red. Rana goes up to the 2nd wagon, Diem follows. It looks like it was a goods caravan, no animals, no people, no bones (but rolled low for that).
Diem got sand in their eye (1 investigating for bones)
We are following a loose trail of debris, Rana sees the inside protected by the cloth and she sees several other crates that have been pried open, contents taken. Rana pulls one crate out
Phi and Diem both roll low on this next part.
Rana nat 20s looking this crate over, tucked away behind that crate is another one that got overlooked, barely protected, it has a strange symbol on it like the barest suggestion of an inverted triangle made with little triangles at each point and leaf blades in the center curling out toward the leftmost triangle point from a braided crescent moon along the suggested triangle’s right side, tips of the crescent poking up out of the leftmost and top sides of the suggested triangle. Rana drags it out and takes a closer look. It seems kind of heavy. Whatever is in there is well padded, no shifting or sloshing etc.
Phi 14 perceives for traps. She sees it is locked with delicate filigree on it, meaning it’s probably a trap. Attempts to disable the trap (24).
We talk about how very lost they probably were, because as Rana points out, you do not go off trail, the desert is very dangerous, it will kill you, and while we were okay off trail with her, you definitely do not go off trail with a caravan.
Ixayl'anu: I get that but how far off trail are we?
Rana: We are inadvisably far off trail, but I know where I’m going.
Phi defeats the trap and inside she finds a large teapot of red enamel with a slightly demonic face on the side of it with a large ring in its nose. When she picks it up steam gently comes up and it is warm.
Rana looks in the box for more identification. 18 investigation.
Rana 17 history checks the triangle-moon symbol too - she’s not certain where she’s seen the symbol but it’s tip of her tongue - not quite familiar, but something. She finds a very old, weathered piece of parchment with “the meal wish cauldron” written on it, along with what it does.
By putting in 10 gold (or similar value of jewels - per person?), you bring forth a great feast, including magnificent food and drink. The feast takes 1 hour to consume and disappears at the end of that time, and the beneficial effects don't set in until this hour is over. Up to twelve creatures can partake of the feast.
A creature that partakes of the feast gains several benefits. The creature is cured of all diseases and poison, becomes immune to poison and being frightened, and makes all Wisdom saving throws with advantage. Its hit point maximum also increases by 2d10, and it gains the same number of hit points. These benefits last for 24 hours.
We package it away into our own supplies for now.
Rana: We’ll get to Longview before nightfall probably.
We travel an hour and a half more before we get back to the main road again, very well trafficked, just like Rethwellian’s main roads, it’s like going from a deer trail to a five lane highway.
Diem plays off the whole bad bitch native desert dweller guide, so fuck off vibe
As we get closer and closer to early evening we can see Longview.
(Welcome to Longview)
We are going to see a small town, big enough to know everyone but only if you lived here awhile. Somewhat of a farming community, gardens behind houses are common, in the shadow of the mountain, a bit more greenery here, but not as green as Rethwellian.
Taking the main road in, not stopping, just going through town - Rana clearly knows where she’s going. “Welcome to Longview.”
Phi: So were you born here?
Rana: Yeah, I grew up here.
One person on the road nods at Rana but they don’t stop and chat. They stare more at us than her.
Diem thinks it looks very cute and cozy
Rana’s interactions are limited to nods and waves
Phi: How long since you’ve been home?
Rana: At least 2 years
We notice nobody’s trying to catch up with Rana, Diem just assumes that’s because they know Rana well enough to know she’s not much of a talker and/or they’re all very similar to her in that regard.
As we pass the inn
Phi: Are we going to stay with your family maybe?
Rana: That is the plan, yes.
She takes us to her mom’s place, taking a left and immediately leaving Longview for its outskirts instead. Comparatively small homesteading with some sheep that want fed, a small kitchen garden, that’s pretty much it. We passed a lot of farms on the way here though. This one is only about 10 acres.
Rana glances around at some to do things while she’s here, but not a whole lot, some of the fencing could use repairing. She finds a place for their camels for water and food, ties them off. While everyone’s unloading she goes to feed the sheep.
Then she leads us to the door. We make enough noise out there though that a farm dog comes out barking, excited to see her, yipping, mom comes out the back “Oh Rana you’re back!” (older, husky sounding voice, from the city, little bit more cultured, wearing very nice clothes).
Rana turns around with a grin and runs to give her a big hug
Mom: I missed you so much
Rana: I missed you too
Mom: You brought friends
Rana: I brought friends!
Mom: Bring them inside
A feathered female dragonborn, a white-haired female gnome, and a big scary human woman who looks like she could break you.
Rana: we’re gonna need somewhere to stay for a night or two if that’s okay?
Mom: Sure
Rana: I fed the sheep and the camels, I haven’t fed anything in the stable yet though.
Mom: We have some sheep that are laming too.
Rana: It is good to see you - it has been way too long.
Mom: I did hear from your brother about events.
Rana: Oh! Did he get his message then?
Mom: All 3 of them. One right after another
Rana (grinning): I’ll have to fill him in, it’s been an eventful few months
Rana waves us over.
Rana leads the elk to sheep pen so it doesn’t eat mom’s flowers. It is way greener here than the other gardens in town. Plants here are very lovely.
Rana looks around: I’ll take care of the plants while I’m here too.
Mom: They always seem to enjoy your attentions. Introduce me to your friends?
She introduces us, stops at Diem, “Drop the disguise.”
Diem clearly forgot they were disguised, but does so, looks a little out of sorts after they drop the disguise rather than their easily sociable butterfly self.
Rana introduces each of us and where we’re from, Diem says their home is a small village in Rethwellian nobody’s really heard of, not important.
We are introduced to mom as Romy
Level up!
Next Session: Feb 20th 4pm est
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taylortut · 4 years
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*still has prompts in inbox, three birthday fics to write, and the collab i’m working on*
*writes the first chapter in a series i’m planning about geralt not understanding and repeatedly pushing jaskier far past the limitations of a human body*
*forgive me*
Jaskier had stopped asking for breaks three days ago, and Geralt could only assume he’d finally come to the conclusion that they were not going to happen and decided to reserve his energy in favor of walking rather than complaining. 
Their pace was challenging, even for Geralt, with his Witcher constitution and the fact that he spent much of his time riding Roach while Jaskier trotted alongside them. As for Jaskier, he was dead on his feet. 
Partially, he’d told Jaskier that he wasn’t allowed to ride the horse because the only way to get a little peace and quiet these days was to piss Jaskier off enough to make him give Geralt the silent treatment. 
It had been funny, at first, to watch Jaskier huff about needing a nap. It was amusing to hear him tripping over his own feet when they continued walking well after it was dark outside. Something inside Geralt felt relieved when he felt Jaskier like him a little less, when he felt Jaskier pull a little more away, when he threatened to leave, get a room at an inn in the next town they saw and stop following. 
It had been interesting to see him in a bad mood. 
Jaskier began picking fights about little things, petty things. He’d say it was too hot and Geralt would say he was perfectly comfortable, and Jaskier would gripe about how Geralt was only saying it to be contrary, that he could say the sky was blue and Geralt would disagree just because he couldn’t stand to share the same opinion. He’d get angry about situations he could normally laugh about, like having to find a new path because the one they’d planned on taking was blocked off by overgrown trees. Geralt would swear that he’d almost seen Jaskier cry when he’d plucked a string on his lute a bit too hard and it had snapped. 
Less entertaining, however, had been when he’d watched Jaskier’s reflexes slow to the point where when he stumbled, he couldn’t react fast enough to catch himself, and he’d started fo fall more often. Less funny was to watch Jaskier eat as fast and as little as he possibly could, eventually turning down meals altogether in favor of sleeping during their short rests because he could “eat while they walked,” but he needed the sleep. And the worst of it had been when Jaskier’s several-day marathon of verbosely foul moods turned into being too tired to even argue with Geralt, when his irritable ramblings had turned into one-word answers to questions only when prompted. 
Despite all this, it was still a surprise to Geralt when Jaskier crashed and burned. 
Jaskier had been sullen for hours, so quiet that Geralt found himself checking behind to ensure that Jaskier was still following. His steps were loud and his eyes were barely open as he walked, and Geralt wasn’t cruel.
“Roach needs a break,” Geralt announced around dinnertime, taking her reins even though she knew what the words meant and was already happily trotting along to the side of the path into a clearing. Jaskier, eyes still mostly shut, walked right into the back of Geralt when he stopped and bounced off, falling backward onto the trail. Geralt thought he muttered an apology, but he couldn’t be sure.
He didn’t move until Geralt extended a hand to help him up, and even then, it seemed as if it were more instinctive than anything else. 
“Alright?” Geralt asked, and Jaskier nodded. His face was pale, alarmingly so, and his grip was weak enough that Geralt more or less had to pull him up by the forearms. 
Normally, Geralt would throw the waterskin to (at) Jaskier, telling him to fetch water from the nearest river while he cooked, but he was relatively sure that if he turned Jaskier loose into the forest in this state, he might not find his way back. He lit a fire and set a rock in the center of it. Jaskier didn’t even pretend to watch him work, appearing to be sleeping sitting up. 
After letting the rock heat up for a little while, he threw two healthy portions of salt-cured meat on top and handed Jaskier a stick with which to turn them. 
“Tend these,” he commanded gruffly. “I’m going to replenish our water.”
Jaskier more or less nodded, which Geralt took to mean he was accepting the responsibility, so he wandered off into the forest in search of a river. 
With his enhanced ability to hear the nearby stream, it took Geralt less than half the time it normally took Jaskier to fill the waterskins. The food should be finished cooking by the time he returned, he thought, and waiting for him. It felt almost domestic, their situation, but nothing so comfortable as that. Admitting that he liked having Jaskier waiting for him would be admitting that he cared for the bard, and that would mean admitting he owed him better than this life and, since he couldn’t provide another, that he should tell Jaskier to be on his way. 
And he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. 
He could smell charred meat from farther away than a human could, and it prickled at him a bit forebodingly. He tried to let it go: Jaskier was no stellar cook, after all, and likely had overcooked the rabbit for fear of eating it slightly-too-raw and getting sick, which had happened last time Geralt had allowed him to prepare dinner. 
When he emerged through the trees, Geralt saw the meat still sitting on the rock, smoking and untouched. 
“Jaskier,” he barked, “that’s burning.” No reply. “Jaskier,” he tried again, louder this time. Again, Jaskier made no move that indicated he’d heard him at all. 
By the time Geralt reached the campsite and unkindly tore the stick from Jaskier’s hands to flip the meat, it was far beyond saving, completely black on one side and so cooked through the middle it was practically petrified. 
“Did I not ask you to watch this?” he demanded. Jaskier was staring at the fire but not really seeing it, slowly and lazily blinking. His left hand was still cupped in the shape in which it had gripped the stick, as if he hadn’t even noticed it was no longer in his possession. For the first time, Geralt felt a little uncertain. “Jaskier?” he called. Dinner forgotten, Geralt knelt down beside Jaskier, placing one hand on his knee when that didn’t get his attention. “Can you hear me?” 
It took a long moment, like the words were reaching him from the top of a pool in which Jaskier had sunk to the bottom, but with enough effort, he forced his gaze to Geralt. Still, though, there was something empty about his eyes, like he was looking through rather than at Geralt. 
“Fuck,” Geralt cursed, pressing a hand to Jaskier’s forehead and finding himself unable to even feel relief when he found it barely warm, definitely not enough to cause him to be so out of it, because that meant he still didn’t know what the problem was.
“Jaskier, what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone sharp with both worry and the fear of losing Jaskier’s fleeting attention. Jaskier blinked slowly, drooped forward into Geralt’s shoulder a little. 
“M’just…” he trailed off for a moment, boneless against Geralt, “so tired.” 
It had been days, Geralt realized, since he’d properly rested, and Jaskier was at his physical limit. He felt retroactively guilty about dismissing Jaskier’s complaints, but how was he to know that the whining had really been a warning that he was nearing collapse?
“Okay,” Geralt conceded. “Let’s get you lying down, then.” 
Jaskier was nearly limp, very malleable in his grip as Geralt undressed him to the underclothes he typically slept in, realizing upon doing so that it had been a long, long time since they’d rested long enough to warrant getting comfortable. 
Worryingly, he had to prop Jaskier up against the rock to keep him from falling face-first into the dirt while he set up his bedroll near the fire. When it was not only set up but sufficiently warmed by the radiant heat from the flames, he half-carried Jaskeir to it and laid him flat, covering him with the thickest blanket they had in their possession. The night was cool to Geralt, but he knew that Jaskier probably found it chilly to the point of shivering, if he’d had the energy to spare on it, and he didn’t want him having nightmares on a night when he clearly needed as much restful sleep as he could get. 
Jaskier fell asleep without so much as a “goodnight,” and Geralt found himself smoothing the hair away from his face once before deciding it was too kind and backing away to sit on the other side of the fire. The low light illuminated the dark circles under Jaskier’s eyes, stark against his pale face. He was exhausted, had been for a long time, and this was the consequence: his body was refusing to allow him to push it any further. Geralt shuddered to think of just how much his body must have been protesting in the past few days, past few WEEKS, if he were being completely truthful. The complaining wasn’t dramatic; it was an understatement. 
For once, he would not wake Jaskier when the sun came up. He’d wait for Jaskier to wake on his own, make him eat something for breakfast, then allow him to go back to sleep. They couldn’t afford to lose a day’s travel, of course, but he supposed that it was his own fault: had he taken a few hours here and there when Jaskier had said he needed them, they wouldn’t be in this mess. 
For now, all he could do was stoke the fire and let Jaskier sleep, ruminating in his own thoughts from which Jaskier’s chatter was not present to distract himself. 
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deliasbabe · 4 years
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Dancing Through Our House With The Ghost Of You- Part 2
Billie deals with her own ghosts. Part 3 Coming Soon!
Read Part 1 here.
Words: 3,792
Warnings: Strong Language, Angst, Drunkenness.
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“Billie?”
Billie glanced up, preparing for another image of you that would only disappear, but once she locked eyes with you she knew it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. You were dressed in an oversized hoodie Billie had never seen you in before, presumably covering your shorts beneath it. Your hair was shorter and a little lighter, falling in loose waves around your chin. Between Billie’s wine drunk haze and the streetlights glowing behind you, you looked ethereal in every way, her own personal guardian angel.
“What are you doing here?” Billie whispered, confused by your abrupt arrival.
You furrowed your brow, before taking in your ex lover’s obviously inebriated state, “You called me.”
She searched her swirling memory for a moment, trying to recall when exactly she would have called, coming up empty. It must have happened if you were here, standing right in front of her. She didn’t respond, didn’t know what she could possibly say, but you knew that. Instead, you kneeled down in front of her so you were at eye level, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear gently. You always knew exactly what she needed. 
“You’re here.” Billie whispered, almost like she didn’t believe it, like any second you would vanish into thin air and she would be alone once again.
You gave a soft nod, “I am. Now let’s get you moved to the couch, hm?” You had dealt with Billie’s breakdowns before, when her job got too heavy and real for her to handle. You knew her like the back of your hand, but you had never seen her quite like this. You grabbed her hand and tugged her up, depositing her on the couch before heading to the kitchen for some wine. You knew for certain she had already had far too much for a casual evening, but even the simple action of holding the full glass in her hand seemed to calm her, or at least, it used to.
You saw the smoke before you had even entered the kitchen, quickly walking over to the stove and turning it off before depositing the charred remains of the forgotten stir fry in the garbage. Billie was never one for eating more than one proper meal in a day, and you usually had to force her to even eat one, so the chances that she hadn’t eaten were pretty high, and you quickly dialed the pizza place around the corner that you always ordered from. It wasn’t the most nutritious meal, but it was something to help avoid the hangover.
When you returned to the living room with two full wine glasses in hand, Billie had managed to get herself curled up under a blanket, and you were thankful you didn’t see the same emptiness in her eyes that had greeted you upon your arrival. You held out one of the glasses, which she took with shakey hands and a small thank you, before you took up residence on the opposite side of the couch, tucking your knees under you in the way you always did, like this place was still your home and nothing had changed.
Billie glanced at you for a moment, “Since when do you drink red?”
You gave a gentle laugh, “It was all you had. Did you just get back?”
Billie nodded slightly, “You look good.”
“Thank you.” You said politely, knowing Billie was always the charmer. But to you, it didn’t feel like a compliment, it felt like a distraction.
“What have you been up to?” Billie asked, making polite chit chat like you didn’t just see her at her worst. It was the only thing she could think of to do. She didn’t know what exactly she had said to you, but it had to have been pretty bad for you to show up after what she did.
You knew it was just her trying to skirt around the pressing issue, likely due to embarrassment. Still, you feared that emptiness returning once again, so you indulged her, “I went home for the summer, spent time with my parents. I just… I needed to get out of LA. It was good for me.”
Billie nodded, she knew you always hated the city, that it made you feel like you were drowning. You two had talked about moving away together, but with her job, she was always tied to LA, or at least California. She still was having trouble saying anything, because there was so much she wanted to say, but the words were tied down, lodged in the pit of her stomach and sinking. 
“Did you find any particularly scary ghosts while abroad?” You ask, your tone slightly teasing, which only made the woman smile.
“No,” She said with a laugh, “I couldn’t understand half of them.”
You snickered, “Kind of fucked up that even ghosts have a language barrier.”
 And oh, Billie was swooning at your candor. It was one of her favorite things about you, how you always seemed to know just how to break the tension, how to draw her out of even her darkest moments and make her see the light. But nothing about this was light, not with the guilt pressing on her shoulders with every kind word you spoke. You should have been angry, furious with her. Every word should have been biting, calloused, cold, but then again, it was you. She focused on her wine, swirling it for a moment, if only to give her a second to think. You noticed, you always noticed. “You don’t want it?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.
“No, I do.” Billie said, shaking her head, “I just haven’t eaten. My dinner is still on the stove.”
“Your dinner is in the garbage.” You joked, “You may have let it cook for just a tad too long.” You watched the medium bite her lip as a blush creeped up her cheeks, an unusual sight, “I ordered pizza. It should be here soon.” Billie met your gaze, but only briefly before she looked away and nodded, finally taking a sip of the wine. “So what happened, Bill?” You asked softly, pushing just enough.
“I didn’t tell you?” Billie asked quietly, shifting her gaze to stare at her lap.
“You said you were seeing ghosts.” You responded.
Billie pursed her lips, “I was.”
“You don’t have any ghosts.” You stated.
Billie gave a soft sigh, “I do now.”
You chuckled softly, “Did someone die while I was away?”
“I saw you.” Billie said bluntly, tired of whatever dance she was forcing you to partake in. Billie always liked games, but she couldn’t bear to do it with you, not anymore.
Billie glanced up as your face fell solemn, and she hated herself for forcing you to take on more of her pain. This was her fault, all of it. She shouldn’t have called you. You were quiet for a moment, nodding slightly, “You haven’t been back since it happened, have you?” Billie shook her head, embarrassed. “Yea, that’ll do it. It happened to me too, when I went back to my apartment.” You said, trying to let her know she wasn’t alone, “That’s why I left for a while, to give me time to… deal with it, I guess.”
“Have you?” Billie asked, secretly terrified of the answer, of being alone in this torture.
You chuckled lightly, “Well I’m here, so I’ll let you be the judge.”
The answer was very you, but it was also very telling. You always dropped everything to be there for her, regardless of what she had done, and although Billie was thankful for it, it also made her heart ache. She hurt you, and you were still here, still picking up her broken pieces when she was too proud to pick up yours. You were ten times the person she would ever be, and you deserved better than her, but all she could think about was how you were inches away from her, how she could lean over and kiss you and everything would be ok again.But before she could make her move, the doorbell rang, and with it the urge was taken out like the tide. 
Billie took a moment to compose herself as you grabbed the food, wiping at her smudged makeup and smoothing down her hair, smiling when you returned with on very large pizza box in hand. It seemed utterly absurd to order that much food for just two people, but you always had been the planner, and you knew the medium well enough to assume it would be days before she made it to the grocery store. At least this way she had some leftovers to carry her through. 
“Let’s get some food in you.” You teased, handing the woman a greasy slice. She nibbled on it for a moment, not really sure she actually even wanted to eat, as you looked around. “Where is your assistant?” You asked.
“Hm?” Billie responded.
“Your assistant?” You asked casually, “I’m sure you got a new one. You used to have me here from the moment you woke up until you went to bed, even when we weren’t together.”
“That’s because I liked you.” Billie said, trying to hide behind a teasing tone. You weren’t wrong, she did have you there constantly, but that was because she had feelings for you. She made it seem like it had always been that way, but the truth of it was it was just you, her previous assistants she hardly ever called on, she just preferred to handle things herself.
“And you don’t like her?” You teased back, watching your ex avert her gaze and shrug, which told you everything you needed to know. “Ah, got it.” You said with a laugh, trying to diffuse the tension.
“It was a long trip.” Billie said defensively. It was a half assed attempt and she knew it, but god forbid she say she actually missed you.
You held your hands up in mock surrender, “Hey, I don’t really have room to judge anymore. Not hard to fall in love with the boss.”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone else. It’s been almost a year.” Billie said, knowing she was only trying to crush her own heart, beat it into submission with the idea that you really had moved on, that she wasn’t as important as she thought she was.
You gave a half-hearted shrug, not wanting to make the woman feel any worse, but Billie knew what it meant, because it was you. You weren’t the type to fall into bed with just anyone. Sure, you weren’t a virgin when you met, but your body count was confined to one hand, two fingers. Billie, and that guy from college that you swore you were going to marry, until you realized he was a dick and you deserved better. You always were her better half, the only one that seemed to quell her endless impulses. She was better because of you, and then she had to blow it all to shit.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” Billie asked as your eyebrows furrowed, “That night, when I made you leave. Why didn’t you stop me?” The question seemed out of the blue, but really it was something she had been agonizing over for months. It wasn’t the first time Billie had acted out and tried to break things off, but it was the first time you didn’t fight back, didn’t force her to sit down and prevent the forest fire erupting inside of her. For as rash as she was, you were the voice of reason, or you had been until that night. That night you just let it burn, let her tear down the house you built brick by brick and swim in the ashes, alone.
“Because I knew I couldn’t.” You said after a moment, taking a note from Billie’s book and staring at your glass of wine as you swirled it around the rim, “You had to figure it out on your own.”
Billie set her jaw, hating that you always seemed to be 10 steps ahead of her, “Figure what out?”
“Why did you call me over here, Billie?” You fired back as you snapped your gaze up, almost like a challenge. You had tried to pull the answer out gently, a subtle game of tug of war, but she was locked up tight, and you were tired of being gentle. Being gentle is what got you into this mess in the first place. 
But Billie was her own special kind of stubborn, and your aggression just made her dig her heels in, “I don’t even remember calling you.”
Still, you weren’t going to give up just yet, “But you did.”
Billie straightened her shoulders and picked up her wine, “But I did.”
You let out a barely audible grunt, standing from the couch and collecting the still full pizza box and your wine, heading to the kitchen. You didn’t know why you answered her call, but you did, and now you were here, playing some fucked up game of poker. You both knew why she called, but she wouldn’t say it, and you were about five seconds from exploding. 
“What are you doing?” Billie asked in a sarcastic tone, trying to suppress the overwhelming fear that was carving its way into her bones. She hated this, hated knowing you had the upper hand, that you could say and do whatever you wanted and she would buckle instantly. She hated that her heart raced every time you left the room, that she felt every single millimeter of distance between you, hated that the only thing she wanted was to close that gap and be in your arms. It was easy to say she hated you. Hate was easier to deal with, hate lived inside your soul and no one else’s. Hate didn’t need constant validation or reassurances. Hate was solitary, stable, it didn’t fade with time, not like love did.
“Cleaning up. I’m going to get you into bed and then I’m going to go.” You said flatly, forcing yourself to strip every ounce of emotion from your tone. You couldn’t force her to talk to you, but you could make the decision to leave before she kicked you out again.
“Go?” Billie asked, cursing herself for the tears she felt welling up and the rise in her pitch.
“Yea, back to…” You trailed off before shaking your head, “I have to go.”
Billie cleared her throat, trying to keep herself in check, “You could just stay here.” She glanced back at you and you shook your head, and Billie hated how her chest got tight at the very idea of you being gone, of her being alone in this house once again, “You’ve been drinking.”
“I didn’t drive.” You said, crossing your arms and fixating on a scuff on the floor.
“Y/n. Stay, please…” Billie said weakly, blinking rapidly as if that would make the impending waterworks come to a halt.
“That isn’t a good idea….” You said, pausing for a moment and shaking your head before heading back into the kitchen to finish up. If you stayed, it would only prolong whatever this was. You hated hurting her, but you also hated how she made you feel. She made you feel crazy, and there was nothing you hated more than that.
Billie knew she was royally fucking this up, as she always did. It shouldn’t have been hard, just three words, I love you, and everything would be fixed. What was she so afraid of? That she would lose you? She already lost you, and she would again if she didn’t just say the damn words.
Sucking in a deep breath, she untangled herself from the blankets and slowly walked towards the kitchen, trying to mentally prepare herself. “You know… when I was in Europe, there was this one ghost I met.” She said, waiting for you to show some kind of response before she continued. It took a moment, but you finished washing the pan you were working on and laid your palms flat on the edge of the sink, turning your head towards her, “He had been in the war, shipped out the day he turned eighteen. He didn’t want to go, but he didn’t have a choice. He had a girlfriend, wanted to marry her, but he never told her he loved her. He regretted it, obviously, but he didn’t think he was going to come back, didn’t want her to have to deal with that kind of loss. He didn’t come back, he died in the trenches, but he wished he would have told her, even once. I did some research, found her. She was 85, got married and had six kids, a bus load of grandchildren. I explained everything to her, told her who I was. You know what she said to me when I told her?”
“What?” You asked with a gravelly voice, and Billie waited a moment until you looked up at her, “What, Bill?”
“She said she already knew. She always knew, even though he could never say it. He was the love of her life, of course she knew. He had spent years, trapped by this guilt, and she knew the entire time.” Billie said softly, shaking her head, “All those years… wasted, wandering around, all for nothing.”
“That’s not why he was trapped.” You blurted, clenching your jaw as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel, “He wasn’t trapped because he thought she didn’t know, he was trapped because she knew and he still didn’t have the guts to say it, because then it was real. Not saying it… it doesn’t make it easier, it just makes you a coward, lets you hide in plain sight. She knew, but there was always an uncertainty about it.” You felt the tears beginning to pile up behind your eyelids, tried to swallow down the thickness in your voice before you cleared your throat, “That’s why he was trapped. That’s what kept him here.”
Billie dropped her head, giving a solemn nod. You were right, you always were right. She was a coward, terrified to give up even an ounce of control. She always was so detached, aloof, at least before you. Now, things were different, and she was struggling to catch up.
When you were the one to break the silence, Billie was surprised, shooting her head up. “I’m glad you were able to help her, though. Make it concrete or whatever. Even if it did take 60 years, it’s better than nothing.” You said, walking towards the center of the room and shuffling your feet, like you were only seconds from gathering your things and walking out the door. 
Your mask was quickly slipping, and now Billie knew for certain that you were still in pain, not that she couldn’t assume it already. You were always just so damn good about hiding your feelings, about putting everyone else above yourself, like you didn’t matter. She could see your hurt plain as day now, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. She could feel the words bubbling up in her stomach, but they would lodge in her throat, making it hard to even breathe. She had to kiss you, had to do it right then and there, because it was the only way she knew how to convey every single thing she was feeling for you. She told you she loved you with every kiss, every touch. It was easy to love you that way, but the words were harder, more complicated and weighted.
She moved towards you without even thinking, and you stepped back, playing that game over and over until you were pressed up against the counter with nowhere to run. “Billie…” You whispered, pressing your hands on her shoulders to keep her just out of range.
“Just let me show you.” Billie pleaded, your faces only inches apart. If you would just release your grip, even just a hair, she would be able to do it.
“We can’t.” You stated, holding firm.
“Why not?” Billie practically whined.
“Because I won’t wait 60 years.” You shot back.
“Do you still love me?” Billie asked.
“You know I do.” You said with a sigh, relieved when Billie finally stopped pushing against you, but she still was close, too close. Close enough that you were teetering on the edge of losing all willpower and burrowing into her arms.
“Y/n, I was scared out of my mind. The accident….” Billie fumbled, trying to put a million complicated feelings into one simple sentence.
You nodded slightly, “I know.”
“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I can’t lose you.” Billie said firmly.
“I told you I loved you and you kicked me out.” You stated, the bitterness creeping its way into your tone.
Billie softened, “I know, and I’m sorry, I am. Sweetheart, you know I care about you.”
You swallowed thickly, “And I care about you, you know I do.”
“Then stay.” Billie said, drawing out every letter.
You shook your head, “It’s not that simple.”
Billie was emphatic now, practically wailing, “It is, I love you and you love me.” She didn’t even realize she was saying it, the words slipping out so effortlessly the second she wasn’t thinking about it. But something changed in the expression on your face, and she had to ask, “What?”
“Say it again.” You insisted.
“What? That I love you and you love me?” Billie asked, the words taking a moment to register, a brief moment of panic rushing through her irises. Her shoulders relaxed, like a weight had been lifted, and she looked back at you. “I love you.” She said, like she was realizing it for the first time, like she hadn’t spent months staring at the wall and thinking it over and over again.
You let out an amused, breathy laugh, “Wasn’t so scary, was it?”
“Terrifying, actually.” Billie said, eyes wide like she was still considering taking it back.
“Only when you thought about it.” You teased, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips.
The medium started fidgeting, like a kid anxiously awaiting a treat, “Can I kiss you now?” She needed reassurance, needed something familiar to remind herself she wasn’t alone in this, that the words didn’t just simply vanish into thin air, that all her anxiety and suffering wasn’t for nothing. Your grin grew wider, and she instinctually stepped forward, leaning into you, but at the last moment you stepped back.
“No, but you can take me upstairs.” 
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mehiwilldoitlater · 4 years
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”Something of you“ WarxReader
Everybody would say that, even if it was in fact an incorrect quote, that it was normal that a woman would like to stare at her own reflection in the mirror. You would have even agreed if it wasn’t for the fact that you wasn’t staring at yourself but at something else.
 At the beginning it started with a little red sign at the perfect centre of your chest, almost invisible o be honest. Only your own eyes were capable to perceive it, but you didn’t mind at all. Your body was covered in scars from the olds days, why bother for something that was as big as the head of a pin? You let the thing slide...until you started to notice some changes in whatever thing you got. It wasn’t just growing as mass of whatever thing was, but more like a pattern, lines that intertwined with eachother, creating a strange and yet mesmerizing  design of your skin, becoming more intricating each passing day, just like when a new branch start to grown on a tree. When you realise how “not normal” that thing was, you ask for advice on Fury, the only one that were not that overprotecting on you at the point to take you to the hospital for a cut or strandled you on bed, and she was confused as much as you! At first sight her insticts said that that thing was some kind of angel curse or something, but she was uncapable to feel anything arming on you. It was just a red sign that started to appear on your body and nothing more! But you know that wasn’t near the thruth. The second change appear one day, when you and War were spending a nice and warming spring morning together, admiring a nature that was long forgotten on your planet, bathing in that calming sensation and just enjoying each other presence when you just...feel it. It was like sensing a tingly sensation on your skin, like something crawling on you and when you immediately check on it you saw that lines where not anymore just some red signs, they were glowing! It wasn’tjust a blinking kind of glowing, it was more like the embers of the fire, with brights lines followed by more darked spots of deep red. Even in that occasion you didn’t feel any pain from it, like tht was nothing but that wasn’t even normal! But the worst had happen just a few minutes ago... One thing tat you notice to change with signs? Your tem,perature, you were in a constant feeling that everywhere was hot, a warming sensation that confused your sense to day one. No matter how cold you tried to take, you were capable just to feel a fierly sensation deep inside you, but you tried everything to take it undercontrol, until now at least! War had returned from a mission after a long week , and enjoyed a few days of demons hunt, so the next thing he wanted was spending the next few days in your company, showing you his trophy and talk about these new worlds that he had visited, keeping to himself the idea of showing them to you next time. You were so happy to see him back, completely hide the tingly sensation that was now coming back from you, and completely rapt on his words, hist story...everything. Until you just....burns. War notice it before you could sense it, he saw your clothes start to emitt a series of black clouds of smoke, accompanied by the distinct smell of burnt wood from the table were your hand was resting. Before even your eyes could catch wathever was happening on you, War grabbed you by your shoulder, as faster as when you were in a real danger during the end of days, and throw at the nearest source of water in the area, which was the old water trough near the barn that you and Strife repaired a few weeks ago. Flying over the tantrum that you were almost ready to throw at him for the scene, he started to inspect your body for any trace of harm on you, coming from your spontaneous combustion or from himself, and the only things that he finds was red burning wines that covered your skin, almost touching the visible side of your neck from your now soaked t-shirt, “...Y/N....What is happening?!” And these only four words take here, at the mirror of your bathroom, almost naked, stating that maybe things are not that okay as you were thinking to be. War was outside the wooden door, his hears sharped enough to try to catch anything that was happening inside that tiny room. He was capable to catch the noise of your wet clothes falling on the floor and your frantic feets moving around, checking every angle of your body. And the breath....you were scared.  “....Y/N....” He posed his good hand on the surface of the door, hearing a gulp from inside. “Y/N, please, open the door...” “War, i can’t, i don’t...” “I need to see it...you don’t have to hide that, whatever it is i want to help....” A little pause, a sigh from the other side and then door lock finally open.  He was...surprised. Usually he was over protective on everything about you, from your mental to your body health, but that thing was almost nice to his eyes. Spirals of fire glowing, intertwine in an enchanting weaves. Some were wide as a finger, other were thin lines, touching each other, caressing every courve of your body. He was allmost mesmerized...untill he saw your scared and embarrassed looks on him. I calm himself, coughing a little to call his composure back, and taking your hand on his to watch closely those strange signs on you, and there happen again. The hand that he was holding became hot, not enough to hurt him of course, but hurt enough to startled the horseman. You immediately take your hand, holding it closed to your chest, whacthing your friend, confused just like you.  “...I need to consult my brothers.” //////////// “She was immolate?!” As always it was Strife that broke the intense silence that fall on him and his family, jumping on the fallen trunk that make as a sit near the fire in that desert-like world. Fury was nervous to say the least, she  explain that she was there at the beginning but she’d never imagine that something like that could happen on a human! Death was in a feral silent, listening to his brother confusing rumbling about everything that War told them. “She can’t immolate, she would DIE from it!” “I KNOW that, brother. I don’t you to remind me how low humans can take high temperature!” “Well things are changing since she was burning and even didn’t notice it!” “OOOOH Could you two stop?! Arguing it’s useless now!” Fury stand up, putting herself eye level with her twin brother, hair twirling for the exhausting situation. Strife eyes glow in a luminescence rage. “We wouldn’t be aruing NOW if you told us BEFORE!” “Oh yes! Of course! Why didn’t she say anything at the beginning?! Ah yes, because you would have just make thing worse, just like now since you all traite her as a child that need protection from EVERYTHING!” During the arguing, the three didn’t notice the oldest stand up, grab them by their collar and throw them back down to the trunk , raising coulds of dusts, make the youngest just take the message to shut their mouth and let him gather his thoughts. “...Very well...now you two, calm down, this is not the case to start a quarrel....Fury, you said that you felt nothing from it, am i correct?” “...Yes.” “I need to be sure, can you swear to me that nothing of malevolent was growing on her?” “I AM. I sense nothing! It was just a drawing, like a war paint!” Strife left a sigh, but for Death it was enough. He thrusted Fury senses, they were as sharped as his, if there was something she would have taken care of it on the moment! Then his eyes posed on his youngest sibling, War, that now was  just more focused on not run to Azrael to find a cure for Y/N.  “War...i know you’re concerned for her, but i need you to tell me: before this, did you notice something...off?” War raised his sight, looking in his brother eyes, and then he calm himself and start to recall the last few months. “....Well...she did not avoid me, it was more like something distract her and force her away from me...but she spent time with you all and-”  “If you think it’s something that happen to us too, no War. I too spent entire days with her and nothing happen. That means that this happen with you only.” Before a sense of guilty could strike the youngest, Death immediately take him back on him. “And now, most important: did you feel something different in the few months? Anything...sensation of some kind?” His eyes started showing surprise that his brother could know about this thing. He was the same, no signs on his harms, on his skin, not even scars or stuff, but he wasn’t capable even to say that he was the same. Everything changes after the fall of the Charred council, many things were still changing and they would have more, but himself something started to move after his meeting with you. It was like completing a puzzle  were he was holdings some parts and you were the owner of the others. A missing part that he never bother to find... “...Not from the few months...from much more time...i’m feel different, capable to understand things i didn’t know...it’s like see a new kind of color, all it’s the same and different at the same time...” He tried his best to explain, even knowing that it was complicated, but Death seemed to understand. The oldest sighed with relief, left a few low laugh, and old his brother shoulder, watch him dirrectely in his eyes. “She’s fine...she’ll be fine, as you will. The only help she’ll need it will be by choice, on help her to control it or just..get rid of it, it won’t even be a painfully operation.” “For creator sake, Death, TALK! What is happening!” Death left War’s shoulder and finally faces his thers siblings, still ina  sea of confusion, but at least relief about knowing that you would have spent more days with them alive. “It’s...an old thing..something that i didn’t experienced, but i know it was a common thing in the Nephilim race...we do believed that when a..,.couple, was well matched, part of the soul of each other could reach the other and became one. In other words, something from you come to me and something from me come to you.” “Wait...wait are....are you telling us that part of the soul of War get inside Y/N?” “As a part of Y/N’s soul is, now, inside War...” Fury wasn’t too young during the purge, but that strange story never reached her hears, as Strife’s too, since when a soul can do something as that?! It was a Nephilim thing or others species could do it?! On the other side War was shocked, but still something inside of him was confused. “.....If...If i gave her that.....why didn’t i too have a mark on me, brother? Why i’m not change like her?” “...You mst be blind to this War...you are change, and you can sense it too...” All War’s questions finally started have an answer, and more anserws he received and more he was scared.  If verything that Death was saying, if you really had part of his own soul inside of your body, and he had a part of yours....then the meaning was something that even him was not ready to take, or at least he’d believed...
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adolanables · 4 years
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INFLUENCED (Part 1) (G.D.)
A/N; sorry for the weird spacing, I can’t get them to go away @ tumblr being weird
Summary: Y/N is a full time college student at UCLA who has grown a pure hatred for the influencer community. Until she meets a handsome Dolan Twin who starts changing everything.
This week marked the start of your third year at UCLA. You had gotten the full college experience in the two short years you had gone to school here and you were more than ready for another year of fun. Your entire life had been spent in California and from the moment you knew what college was, you knew you wanted to go to UCLA.What you’d never expected was just how crazy the culture here was.
Studying communications had been your dream for as long as you could remember - so that is what you did. You wanted to be a sideline sports anchor more than anything in the entire world. The past two years had given you loads of experience and living in LA had been the upper-hand you desired. What you never expected was just how intense the competition for - literally everything - was. Every single class was a rabid competition to see who would be the best and who would win the professor’s favor. It. Was. Intense.
The social life wasn’t much easier - in fact - it was way worse. Instagram was GOD. If you didn’t have a phenomenal IG page, you could consider yourself excommunicated. Not aesthetically pleasing? OVER. Didn’t own a pristine pair of Air Force 1’s? LOSER. This culture drove you insane. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why what VSCO filter you chose for a photo determined how good of a friend you’d be. Thankfully, you had found a small group of friends you could count on that weren’t so engulfed in the influencer culture. The handful of you spent every weekend hopping from party to party, fully taking in the college life.
No, you didn’t love the toxic influencer culture LA had to offer, but you did love UCLA for the most part. And damn - did you love college. Your entire life you had always been a bit of a rebel. You did well in school, but once that was over, you wanted to fully disconnect from real life.
Something that drove you nuts though? When said LA influencers swarmed these parties. It was getting worse and worse and eventually every party you went to was guaranteed to be on a vlog channel somewhere on YouTube. You couldn’t stand it. You just wanted people to be able to live their normal lives without having to document every second of it for some coin.
So when you and your best girl Charlotte entered the large house, you couldn’t help but let out a load groan as you saw dozens of camera screens lighting up the area.
“Oh, come on, Y/N.” Charlotte tugged on your arm to pull you into the kitchen. “Just ignore them.”
“Fine, fine.” You held your hands up in surrender as the small blonde girl situated herself in the corner of the packed kitchen. She quickly poured the two of you a drink and shoved a red solo cup into your face. “I swear to god if I end up in some vlog squad video I’m suing.”
“I’ll make sure to let David know your requests to be edited out of the videos.” Charlotte giggled at you, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of the strong liquid.
She wasn’t kidding. Charlotte actually knew the vlog-squad - honestly - probably everyone but you on campus knew them. You had had so many chances to hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to do was succumb to the culture you claimed to hate so much. Charlotte glanced around the room and turned her attention back to you, a grumpy pout on her face.
“Y/N, can we pleeease go dance?” She stuck out her lower lip.
“Go ahead, Char.” You smiled at her, gently shoving her towards the living room. “I’m gonna park it here until I’ve had at least three more cups of this before I can start dancing…”
“Suit yourself.” She shrugged, bumping your hip with hers and taking off towards the loud music in the other room.
You shoved the empty cups covering the counter top behind you onto the ground and lifted yourself up to sit on the cool granite. The spot you were in gave you a full view of the entire room, a little bit of eye-line into the living room as well. This was one of your favorite things to do at these parties - people watch, You took a big swig of your drink and started to observe the people around you.
There were a few boys surrounding the kitchen island talking, shot-gunning beers, the usual. Some girls were around them trying to get their attention, elbows propped up onto the countertop to show off their cleavage. Quickly, your eyes traveled over to the dance floor where bodies rubbed together viciously - the smell of sweat lingering in the air. The glow of cameras was prominent in that room - which made sense - that was the most stereotypical area of a party. What fun would a vlog be if they were just sitting in the kitchen the entire time - right?
You crossed your bare legs over each other, pulling your denim skirt down to cover up your thighs slightly. As you trained your eyes on the red liquid inside your cup, a deep voice interrupted your thoughts.
“Interesting drink?”
You tilted your head up to see who had interrupted your very intense analysis of what you were drinking. Your Y/E/C eyes met deep hazel ones, you quickly took in this man’s face - a strong jawline, dark hair pushed back from his forehead slightly - he looked familiar.
“It was actually reading a haiku…” You joked, internally giggling as he furrowed his thick brows in confusion. “Kidding.” You assured him, setting your cup down next to you. “You look familiar, do you go here?”
“I do not.” He shook his head, taking the opportunity to lean against the wall next to you. “This is actually my first ‘college’ party.” He chuckled, tucking his hands into his tight black jeans.
“Ohh, a newbie.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him. “I swear I’ve seen you somewhere…” You squinted your eyes at him, analyzing his face.
“Uh, well - YouTube, maybe?” He questioned, his voice lowering as he mentioned the Y word.
“Oh, shit.” You sighed, realizing who he was. “A Dolan twin - that’s who you are.” You threw your head back and laughed. “What in the world are you doing here? Aren’t you two supposed to be like God’s gift to 15 year olds?”
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, glaring at the ground. “I got invited and figured I might as well see what all these parties are about.” He shrugged, glancing back up at you and all of the people in the room. “Seems kinda overrated.”
“Well.” You nodded, agreeing with him. “It used to be more fun, but now you can’t do anything without it being filmed… so it’s changed.”
“Sounds like my life…” He muttered, his jaw clenching for a moment before taking a deep breath and shifting his weight. “Anyways - what’s your name? I’m Grayson.” He extended his hand for you to shake.
“Y/N.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile as you awkwardly shook his hand. What is this, a business meeting? “A lone Dolan twin at his first college party? Sounds like a great video.” Teasing him gently as you gripped your cup and took another sip.
“Let’s just say you and I both will be avoiding any and all cameras tonight.” Quick to reach around you and grab an unopened water bottle, the tall boy settled back into his position on the wall.
You furrowed your brow at him for a moment, trying to understand why he was here if he wasn’t filming it AND he wasn’t drinking. Why would anyone even come to a party where they don’t know anyone to just… stand? Quicky shaking the judgement from your mind. You were honestly impressed a YouTuber had managed to hold a conversation with you for more than 30 seconds without you wanting to find the nearest exit.
Yes, you’d heard of the Dolan Twins - who hadn’t? Especially being around this industry, they were a pretty popular name. To your surprise, you really hadn’t ever seen them at any UCLA events. It was like they didn’t even live in the same city as the rest of the content creators.
“So, do you just sit here all night?” He questioned you, his lips turning down slightly as he saw you fill up your cup a second time.
“Usually? No.” You shook your head, taking another sip of the red liquid. “Once upon a time I’d want to dance or something - maybe meet someone new…” You wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively, noticing his face turn a light shade of pink. “But now… I don’t know, just really hate everything being broadcast at all times.”
“Understandable.” He nodded. “Well… I definitely don’t get the hype…” He chuckled as some guy threw up into the sink a few feet away from you all. “I’m gonna head out, Y/N. It was nice to meet you.”
“You too, Dolan.” You grinned at him as he wandered back into the crowd, looking for the nearest exist.
As his dark hair disappeared in the crowd, you couldn’t help but feel kind of bad for him. As much as you dogged on the influencer community, you didn’t often think about the ones who didn’t fit the mold. There were thousands of people out there who genuinely liked video editing and creating and didn’t really sign up for all the frills. The Dolan twins had never really struck you as guys who didn’t enjoy the culture at least somewhat, but maybe you were wrong.
-
Your night ended pretty standardly, the ceiling above you was spinning wildly as you took in deep breaths, trying to will yourself not to puke. After Grayson had disappeared, you had wandered around to find Charlotte, the two of you taking shots and continuing to dance the night away.
It was nearing 3 AM now and you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. The effects of alcohol always hit you the worst when you were alone. It was impossible for you to sleep when you were this nauseous. Trying to ignore the sick feeling, you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and blinked twice as you saw an Instagram notification on your home screen.
*graysondolan has requested to follow you*
Hm, interesting. You thought, rubbing your tired eyes as you unlocked your phone and opened Instagram. Yup, there he was - blue check and all. Before accepting his request, you went to scroll through his page. You rolled your eyes at all of the shirtless beach pics and hard-eyed glare to the camera professional shots too. Sure, maybe this kid didn’t like parties - but he was 100% into this culture. The picture of him with a drill in hand, shirtless, building what looked like a desk is what sent you.
You begrudgingly accepted his request, secretly hoping he’d hated his party experience so much that you’d probably never see him again.
*new direct message from graysondolan* your phone lit up once again, eliciting a groan from your dry lips
*2 photos on your entire instagram? impressive* you rolled your eyes at Grayson’s comment. You just didn’t like pictures - okay?
Quickly typing a response to him, you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should wait a while to send. You’d already opened it though, so you really had no choice.
*my next one will be leaning against a surf board shirtless, just wait*
*very funny ;)*
A small smile played on your lips as he took the dig quite well. Truly, you weren’t really sure what to say to that, so you locked your phone and went to sleep.
--
“Come onnn, Y/n.” Charlotte whined over the phone, her high-pitched voice making you pull your phone away from your ear. “Please come, you know I can’t stand these things without you.”
“Charlotte, no.” You huffed, tidying up your small room. “You know this is my WORST nightmare, I literally love you, but I can’t go to that.”
“Y/N, pleaaase.” You could almost see her pouting through the phone. “David personally invited me… I would be California’s biggest idiot if I just didn’t go.”
“Can’t you find someone else?” The thought of attending a Youtuber bonfire on the beach - everyone in swimsuits - seemed like pure hell.
“I’ve asked absolutely everyone at least three times.” She sighed. “Everyone is going out of town… except you.”
-
Sweet, sweet Charlotte had managed to drag you along to this dreaded bonfire. She had been such a good friend to you for the past two years, it was so hard to tell her no to literally anything. It was still really warm in Los Angeles, so you had a pair of high-waisted denim shorts on with a simple black bikini top. A warm flannel dawned your shoulders to protect you from the possibility of chilly wind.
“Okay, Y/N.” Charlotte slipped her arm through yours as the two of you made your way down the sandy beach. “I know you hate these people, but please just pretend to be nice.”
“I know, I know.” You giggled, your heart beating faster as you saw the orange glow a little ways down the beach. As you two got closer, a few large men stepped in front of you - all in black and asked for names and ID.
Truly, you understood the need for security - you really did. But at the same time, there was not a single other person on this beach and the three minutes they scrutinized the IDs was just ridiculous. They finally let you through as Charlotte spotted David over the large man’s shoulder and he walked up to guide you two inside.
“Hey, I’m David.” He extended his hand to you and you shook it firmly.
“Y/N.”
-
To say you were miserable was an understatement. Every single person around you was filming this event. It was a cluster-fuck of voices, each one trying to speak over the other into their own cameras. Charlotte was still next to you, but was deep in conversation with some girl with purple hair. To make matters worse, there was absolutely no alcohol here - for monetization purposes.
Realizing Charlotte was good to go, you tightened your flannel around you and quietly made your way down to the water. As you got away from the loud group of people, you took a second to appreciate how beautiful of a night it really was. You splashed your feet in the water as it lapped around your ankles, quickly sitting down in the dry sand just a few inches away.
You had managed to sit out there for about thirty minutes, just staring at the water, before you felt someone sink down into the sand next to you. Quickly flicking your eyes over to the body next to you, you let out a sigh of relief as Grayson’s face came into view. The glow of the moonlight lit up the peaks of his face, just enough for you to make out his smile.
“When did you get here?” You muttered, digging your hands into the wet sand.
“About ten minutes ago.” He stuck his feet into the sand in front of him, copying what you were doing with your fingers.
“And you just saw a random human in the water and thought it’d be a good idea to approach them?” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Maybe.” He shrugged, his eyes glued to the side of your face. “Or maybe your friend up there thought you had been murdered and we were all looking for you.”
“You’re lying.” You gasped, whipping your head back to the large fire, trying to see if there was any commotion.
“I am - but she did mention your name. Then, I saw a sad person sitting out here all alone, so I figured it had to be you.”
“Hey - I’m not a sad person.” You shot back, knocking your knee into his.
“I don’t know, sitting in wet sand in complete darkness sounds like something a sad person would do…” He raised an eyebrow at you, willing you to respond.
“Well, why are you doing it?”
“So you’re not alone?” He responded as if it was the most obvious answer. His dark hair was flopped over his forehead once again, a tight white t-shirt on his upper body and a pair of teal swimming trunks gripping his large thighs.
“Oh, how kind.” You rolled your eyes at him, directing your attention back to the water.
“Why are you here anyways? Don’t you hate this stuff?” His voice was softer as he focused on the water hitting the back of his knees.
“Because I happen to be a phenomenal friend.” You chuckled as he yelped at the cool water coming up higher than he expected. “But she was pretty occupied, so I took my chance to sneak away.” You shrugged. “What about you?”
“My brother wanted to see some girl that’s here.” He shrugged, glancing back up towards the bonfire. “I love the beach, so I didn’t think it could be all that bad…. When I walked up and saw everyone vlogging I instantly regretted the decision.”
“You talk a lot of shit for someone in the middle of all that.” You scoffed at him, his very try-hard instagram feed popping up in your head.
“Ouch, okay.” He held his hand to his heart, acting as though you had really hurt him. “I mean, it is my job - I can’t just have two instagram pictures.”
“Fair.” You nodded. “And I’d have more pictures, I just hate every photo of me ever taken usually.”
“I don’t believe that.” He shook his head, wrinkling his forehead at you. “Here -” He whipped out his phone and made a silly face, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him, pushing your arm out in an attempt to block his camera. The bright light flashed and suddenly you could barely see.
“Ughhh, I hated that - delete it!” You groaned, shutting your eyes momentarily.
“Nah, I think you should post this - your annual Instagram photo.” He grinned, holding his phone out to show you the photo he’d taken.
The bright flash was shining off the black water behind you, the flannel tucked around your upper body complemented your skin and hair. The loose ponytail you had tied was falling out and pieces of hair framed your face. Mostly, the large grin on your face paired with the full eye roll he captured made you genuinely like the photo.
“Okay, that was pretty good.” You agreed, laughing at your facial expression. “*Trying to drown myself at my first influencer party* seems like a great caption.”
“Hysterical.” He chuckled, thrusting his phone into your hand with a blank contact page open. “Put your number in so I can send it to ya.”
You quickly typed in your contact info and handed the phone back. He took a second to send you the photo and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Well, I should probably get back up there before Ethan starts to miss me.” He shrugged, pushing himself up off the sand and extending his strong hand to you. “Wanna head back?”
“Uh - I’m okay.” You shook your head at him, biting your lip and looking back at the wet sand. “Thanks though.”
“Alright, well - have a good rest of your night Y/N.” He grinned at you softly, tucking his hands into his trunk pockets and heading back towards the bonfire.
If you were being honest with yourself, you would’ve acknowledged you didn’t want to go back with him because you didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. Being around all of these rich, famous, beautiful people made you so uncomfortable. Most of the time you could count on being completely ignored, but if you had walked back up with Grayson you were sure you’d have to at least answer questions from someone.
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cchellacat · 5 years
Text
Snow and Ashes
Prompt from @omnomsauruswrites
My drunkin’ Drabble: bucky/Darcy “Are you scared?” “No. I have this terrified face ‘cause I’m having so. Much. Fun.”             
18+
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The evening had started out so well.  Her dress was perfect, her date was handsome and it was snowing lightly as they left the tower, New York a wonderland of white.  Bucky escorted her to the charity gala, ever smile and wink and lowly worded compliment just a little too impolite for the company they were keeping.  Darcy was on cloud nine as she flirted back happily, both of them playing a game of act and mouse. 
They danced, bodies fitting perfectly together, his hands just the wrong side of decent when they skimmed over her hips and then pulled her against his body, each of her soft curves molding to him in welcome. 
By the time they went into the hall for dinner and speeches she was ready to bow out early and just take him back to the tower and into her bed.   Neither of them had been paying close attention to anything other than each other.  His warm hand under her skirt, stroking a path up her inner thigh, when all hell had broken loose.
If there was one thing Darcy had learned when dealing with any Stark Event, it was that you had to expect the unexpected and be ready to react at a moments notice. Anything could happen.  
Sure, five times out of ten all she had to worry about was making sure that none of the VIP’s got their hands on the Asgardian Mead but the other five times it was shit like this.  
Aliens, killer robots, a Hulk or even that memorable time Pepper got her ass smacked by some idiot banker and nearly charred the man to ash in her fury.
Tonight it was a variation on a theme.  It seemed some Hydra affiliate had gotten the memo that The Winter Soldier would be attending his first official function after he was pardoned for everything Hydra had forced him to do.  
Darcy had more then liked Bucky for months.  He was quiet, respectful and liked to play pack mule for her whenever he saw her hauling equipment for Jane. Even Steve had never been as attentive and conveniently available when she needed help.  
Her usual brand of flirtation was blunter, but she’d adjusted accordingly the first time he’d beat a hasty retreat at one of her more blatant flirtations.  All her patience had paid off as he flirted more and finally asked her to be his date tonight.  They had danced around each other for months by this point and she felt like it had been a long game of foreplay, either of them backing down once committed.
It’s why, under her current dress, she had a thigh holster with a gun tucked into it.  She’d had Nat giving her lessons for a while now.  Darcy had looked at the probability and decided if she was going to be dating an Avenger it was better to be prepared.  She wasn’t a super soldier or an assassin but she was a decent shot and could at least protect herself if she got caught in the middle of things, allowing her favourite people to get on with their jobs.  
What she hadn’t expected was to be pinned down in the middle of the ballroom between two tables, back to back with her almost Honey.   This was meant to be her perfect date.  Instead the bitter taste of gunpowder and ash was on her tongue.
She’s happy she’d listening to Natasha’s warning to always carry at least two extra clips with her at all times.  
“Where the hell did they all come from?”
Bucky fires his gun taking down three more as they move in on their position, sparing only a quick glance at her question.  
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters, there has to be nearly a hundred of them.”  She’s feeling the affects of the adrenaline and she’s angry as all get out.   The evening had been progressing nicely.  He’d had his hand half way up her skirt under the table when the black clad assault teams had dropped from the ceiling and crashed through the windows.
“Mostly mercenaries by the looks of them.”  His tone makes her think this is some sort of explanation but right now she’s trying to concentrate on not getting shot and watching his six. Honestly though, she’s much rather be watching his actual ass instead of the blind spot behind him.  
“What does that have to do with it?”
“It means they had to come from somewhere Doll, it should have been flagged as they entered the country, unless Hydra flew them all in under the radar.”
“Which means there must be another mole since there was no chatter about their movement.”  She sighs as another shower of splinter’s erupts above her head.  She feels herself pale.  This was not looking promising. Too many civilians for the others to protect and get out, and not enough decent cover for those trying to provide cover fire.
She spots the movement from the corner of her eye and swings her gun up, pulling the trigger just before the sneaky son of a bitch manages to open fire with a assault rife she thinks could have cut her in half.  
Bucky grabs her and tucks her in front of him, angling his body so she’s protected but can still watch behind them.  She bites her lip hard, refusing to scream as he opens fire on some more of the gunmen.
“Are you scared?”
Darcy exchanges out the clip in her gun and scowls up at him.
“No. I have this terrified face ‘cause I’m having so. Much. Fun.”
The muttered sarcasm elicits a small grin and wink from him before they’re both thrown to one side by an unexpected blast.  Thor had arrived it seemed and had landed a few feet away from them. 
Bucky covered her with his body, his hand tangled in her hair, her head tucked firmly into his chest.  All she can hear is the crackle of lightening, then the burning smell of ozone tickles her nose.  The sudden quiet and the way Bucky’s body uncoils against her tells her it’s over.
He pulls her to her feet with him and takes the gun from her nerveless fingers.  
She’s stopped from turning to look around by his hands cupping her face.
“Don’t look Doll, it’ll give you nightmares.”
She feels herself start to shake as she looks up at him.  There’s blood on his face and his eyes are filled with worry.  Far different than the sparkle of heat and desire he’d looked at her with earlier.  She must look a riot, her hair has fallen from the elegant twist and she can feel the bruises blooming beneath her skin from the knocks she’d taken earlier.  
“Come on, let’s get you back to the Tower, no need to be here now.”
Darcy shakes her head.  No.
“I need to be here, I need to take names of casualties and co ordinate with the hospitals and family of the guests who’ve been injured.”
His expression is grim, but he nods and sticks to her like glue for the next four hours as first responders, medical personnel and police pick through what’s left of the Ballroom.  She knows he keeps her from seeing the worst of the bodies, but she does get a good look at two of the men she knows she killed herself. She thinks she might be sick a few times, but manages to keep going, shrugging off Bucky’s increasingly worried glances.
It's nearly 3am when she’s finally done all she can.  Tony tells her to get some rest and Pepper is wearing the same blank tear stained expression Darcy knows is mirrored by her own.  Bucky and Steve exchange hushed words before he’s back at her side, gripping her hand tightly in his.
Bucky guides her along to the waiting car, he climbs in first, then pulls her onto his knee before closing the door, barking short instructions to their driver as he pulls away from the curb.
She curls up in Bucky’s lap and lets out the first choked sob of the night.  The only thing holding her together at this point is the strength of the arms wrapped around her body, pressing her against his chest as she cries.
By the time they make it back to the tower she’s cried out the tears and bone deep tiredness is inching its way in.
She doesn’t realise where she is, until she’s standing naked in his shower, hot water beating down on her as she tries to wash the blood and tears off of her.  
She’s glad he brought her here, the thought of being alone in her apartment right now just leaves her cold.  There’s a brief gust of cold air as he lets himself into the shower, then his big body is pressing into her back as he brings his arms around her to take the cloth and soap from her hands.  He cleans her carefully, the scents of citrus and sandalwood drifting up from the body-wash he uses.  His hands wander everywhere, soothing and gentle as she melts against him. She turns in his arms and returns the favour, the silence between them full of unspoken understanding. 
When they’re both rinsed clean, he wraps her in a towel and carries her to the bedroom, drying her off gently.  She slips under the covers of his bed and watches as he dries off himself, admiring the shape of him, of the hard, tight lines and planes of him.  His eyes never leave hers and she feels like he kows her, all the corners of her soul exposed to his gaze.
Bucky joins her, just as naked as she is and pulls her into his warmth.  He’s like a space heater, and she snuggles into him happily.  This is not the way she had intended to end up in his bed and it’s a far cry from the expected sexy times she’s had penciled into her planner, but it’s better somehow.  His hand is stroking up and down her back and her head is tucked into his shoulder, her chest flush with his and his thick thigh sandwiched between her legs, they were wrapped around each other perfectly.  
She doesn’t intend to start anything, but when she pulls her head back to look at him, he looks back at her with a sort of desperate need that resonates deep in her soul.  They nearly died tonight, would have if not for luck and good training.
Then his hands are in her hair again, this time it’s to angle her head as he captures her lips in a hard kiss.  Her nails dig into his neck as she kisses him back just as hard.  There is nothing between them except heated skin and mingled breath.  His body pins her beneath him, this time it’s not to protect, but to take.  She gives, her legs cradling him in welcome as his hardness presses into her, eliciting a moan of pleasure from them both.  
His eyes bore into hers as he ruts against her, his cock dragging through her folds, her wetness gathering quickly, coating his cock in her arousal.  The look in his eyes takes her breath away and she feels the sting of tears as emotion overwhelms her.  She wants him inside her, wants him to make her feel every heart beat and breath, remind her that they are both here and real and safe. 
Her fingers dig into his shoulders as he enters her, the burn of him stretching her, delicious and real.  His hands run over her body while he kisses her, softer now, he makes shallow thrusts that drive him deeper into her.  She can feel every inch of him inside her, hard and thick, stroking her and fanning the flames as he picks up the pace at the urging of her hips, insistent with need, meeting him with each movement.  It’s like a dance, one where both partners know exactly how the other will move.  
Bucky is everything she hoped for in a lover, intense and sweet, gentle but intent on making her cum.  His words in her ear tell her she’s beautiful and strong. That he needs her, wants her and has for months.  Tells her he wants to keep her, wants to bury himself so deep inside her sweet little cunt that she’s never gets the feel of him out.  She tells him she’s his, tells him he is hers too, staking her own claim on him just as deep. 
She can feel it building in her core, the coil winding tighter each time he strokes over that spot inside that makes her whimper, he seems to know just how to keep hitting it, then his hand grips her ass, pulling her in, angling her just a smidge and when he thrusts this time she flies apart, comes with a wail, his name  high and clear, painting the air around them.  She clings to him as his hips stutter against her, jerking as he comes with her, his head tucked against her neck as he drives himself deep one last time, his cock jerking as he fills her.  The flood of heat inside her has her digging her heels into his ass, pulling him in tighter as they pant, trying to breath through the wash of pleasure, a connection forming between them that perhaps should have taken longer than this, forming through their shared experience tonight..  
She feels alive, she feels whole.  His weight grounds her in reality, the pounding beat of his heart against her chest echoes her own.  Bucky kisses her, long and slow, tongue licking against her softly till she opens her mouth, letting him in. She’s not sure how long they lie there, exchanging kisses, but the sun is forcing it’s way through the gaps in the curtains when they finally pull away from each other.  He only leaves to long enough to grab a warm cloth to clean her up with before he joins her back in the bed, curling himself around her, the cool metal of one hand, heavy on her hip.  
He tucks the covers around them both and the warmth quickly sends her into a sleepy haze.  She finds that she can sleep now, when she closes her eyes, all she can feel and smell and hear is him.  She’s safe. As she drifts off she hears the tiny whispered I love you pressed in the skin of her shoulder and she smiles, returning the words to him. For a split second he tenses behind her, then he tightens his grip on her, hugging her to him snugly.  Darcy falls into a deep sleep, completely relaxed in the embrace of the Winter Soldier.  She thinks, if this is what it feels like to be loved, she’s never going to let him go.
Outside, the snow fall covers the ground in a blanket of white, the world looks fresh and clean and the sun shines brightly on a new day.
@the-ss-horniest-book-club
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Sisters
Her parents were arguing again.
She'd padded downstairs for breakfast at eight o'clock that morning, still sleepy and bleary eyed, even though bright shafts of sunshine were already pouring through the sheer curtains and bathing her bedroom in warm morning light. The raised voices had taken a long while to reach her ears, and even when they did, she hadn't been awake enough to realize something was wrong. But when she was greeted with a closed kitchen door, she'd paused, confused, before she realized her parents were inside, shouting at each other again, hurling words at each other like they were porcelain bowls that shattered on the floor.
So she tiptoed back up the stairs, with a sinking heart, not needing anyone to tell her that breakfast was nonexistent, or that the possibility of going to the just-opened carnival had gone from slim to impossible. It had always been like this. Even when she was young, when everything still looked picture perfect, they'd always been too different, too disagreeable. Like gunpowder and flame, fire and water, they erupted into explosions. The explosions were never the kind that shot out pretty bursts of color on the end of a sparkler; instead they created choking smoke and toxic gas that made lungs burn and people despair. They produced tornadoes that tore through the house, had been doing so for years. The words and occasional swears swirled in the air, flying from spitting mouths, only settling down after the dust storm was over. Even then, they were still there, resting gently on the floor, like poisonous residue that would be stirred up again in another disagreement.
The only refuge from it all was her older sister's bedroom.
It started when they were little, when she and her sister would sneak upstairs to her sister's bedroom and just stay there, huddled together, until the argument stopped, the dust settled, and everything was quiet again, until they could slip back downstairs and pretend nothing had happened. Sometimes, they'd talk, about anything: their dreams, wishes, friends, or the spring flowers blooming outside the window. If she was feeling particularly scared or upset, her sister would hug her, sing, or tell her a story: ancient myths or something of her own creation, about poor paupers becoming kings, about beautiful women and the heroes they inspired, about greatness and courage and the infinite faith it took to leap into a brighter future. Most days though, they just sat in silence, not needing anything else to hold onto besides each other.
They understood they didn't have it worst; they were never abused, never beaten, never slandered. They knew their parents loved them, wanted the best for them, but just could never agree on what was best. But they also knew they didn't have it the greatest; every one of the kids at school seemed to have normal families, with normal lives, lives where the occasional squabble and bickering was made up in seconds, where it didn't mean a marriage was falling apart, or was never meant to be. Even as they grew up, nothing changed; everyone else looked picture perfect, while the hurricanes still whipped through their house. So she'd never spoken about their parents' disagreements to any of her friends, and her sister did the same. At first, they'd done it out of fear that they'd be judged differently, looked at wrong, outcasted, but... over the years, it'd changed from not wanting to share to not needing to. They had each other to talk about things with, and that was enough.
~~~
She knocked gently on the door, labeled with a faded purple piece of construction paper that said, in little girl handwriting printed long ago, Callisto's Room. Her sister's silvery voice called back indistinctly, and she pushed open the door, which squeaked slightly, and slipped in, closing it softly behind her.
Her sister was only half-dressed, wearing her usual grey hoodie top while still in the pajama pants she'd worn to bed. Her hair was unruly like it always was in the morning, but she looked wide awake, all of the sleepiness gone from her eyes, so they caught the sunlight and looked like rich brown pools of amber. They looked at each other silently for a moment, then:
"Hey." Her sister spoke first, patting the spot beside her under the covers. She walked over and crawled in, leaning against the headboard to make herself more comfortable. Even though she was fully dressed and wearing multiple layers, the warmth still seeped through her clothes and radiated through her body, as though she were standing in sunshine.
"Mom and Dad are arguing again."
"I know." Her sister sighed a little, her hair moving slightly to cover half her face. A weak smile crept up her face, although her younger sister couldn't see it. "Why'd you think I was up so early?" The feeble joke quavered in the air, hanging lame and limp between them. She turned to look her sister full in the face, raising an eyebrow reproachfully.
"Callisto..."
"Well, what do you want me to do about it besides try to lighten it up?" She sounded exasperated, defeated.
"I want you to tell them to stop fighting! Or at least tell Dad to shut up and stop spouting his bullshit!"
"You know what happened that one time you swore in front of them. And you know I've tried. There's nothing we can do."
"Yes, there is! You're almost a legal adult, and you can tell Dad to cut his crap and listen to Mom for once! He's such a hypocrite, always telling other people to listen to him, but never listening to anyone else! He always tells everybody else to do the work for him, and whenever anyone asks him to do things, he refuses! He only acknowledges me as a sixteen-year old when he's saying I need to be more respectful to him, but all the other times he refuses to let me anywhere near danger, and acts like I'm a baby! And you can tell Mom to stop being grouchy for no reason, like she's always about to pick a fight! You can tell them to listen to each other, like the adults they should be, not like crying babies!" She half shouted the last sentence, anger boiling over like volcanic lava, red hot and bubbling, oozing slowly like some noxious chemical.
There was no reply.
In the silence, her eyes met her sister's, and she realized how similar they were, the same shade of brown, like chocolate amber, exactly the same oval shape. Except hers were filled with fire, scorching fury that burned like a raging wildfire, while her sister's looked like ashes, as though the inferno in them had already been put out, and all that was left were soggy pieces of charred wood. Her sister's eyes flicked away as she looked down at the blanket, giving an inaudible sigh that filled the room with its weight, like a solid gray cloud hanging in the air.
"I'm just... tired of fighting, Juniper. You know it's been happening for a long time, since we were little. I just... don't care anymore, I guess. It'll be over when we leave."
"But you can't give up! Even if it's pointless, even if you're going to college this fall, you have to keep fighting! Isn't that what everyone tells you to do?" She faltered, her last words curling into a tentative question. She could feel the naïveté of her words as they flew out of her mouth, and felt like a small child again, unaware, too innocent. But her sister didn't scorn or scoff, just let out a small laugh, like tinkling bells. She looked up, surprised, looked straight into her sister's eyes; they were filled with kindness, pity, and, perhaps, a hint of longing and admiration.
"You really trust those sayings, huh? The ones in books, in moral lessons, in the stories I told you, the ones that said things about finding soulmates, and never giving up, about chasing your dreams and trudging forward when everything is falling down around you?" Her sister's words were laced with tired sadness as she looked away, shadows of old, forgotten dreams whisking around in her charred, ashy brown eyes. It was as though she'd long shed off innocence and her old, childish wishes. She felt a wave of empathy wash over her, and, finding her older sister's hand under the covers, she squeezed it lightly.
"I don't know if I believe in them or not. I don't know if anything is true anymore. But... at least they give me hope, and the belief that anything is possible, even if the odds are turned against me a hundred to one."
A pause. Then,
"I hope you never change, Juniper." She caught the smile in her sister's voice, and looked her full in the face. Her sister did indeed wear a smile on her face, but it only looked wistful, sad, like it was painted on to hide a crack in her porcelain facade. It looked like longing, like the yearning for days when the only weight on her shoulders was doing her homework, making her bed, going upstairs at the correct time. It looked like she wished they were children again, wished they couldn't understand again. She saw it all, and she felt her heart break, taking in the pain, the longing, the broken dreams and crumpled wings.
So she pulled Callisto closer, hugged her tighter, tried to be her pillar, her steadfast steed, her faithful hound, her rock, her unwavering ship in a sea full of storms. And she replied with the sentence she'd always say when she promised something, the sentence her sister had heard a million times, when she was asked to be more careful, make more friends, eat healthier, stay closer.
"I'll try not to." Her sister smiled again, a little broader, like rays of sunshine started seeping slowly through her mouth. She fell silent again, and waited for her sister to say something else. But when she felt a head on her shoulder, felt long hair tickling her collarbones, felt her sister's even breathing as she relaxed, lay back against the bed, she knew that nothing else needed to be said, that everything had gone back to normal, at least for a moment. So she didn't move, didn't speak, just let the quiet wash over both of them. And they stayed like that, in comfortable silence, sisters, as the sun rose higher and the world outside the room grew brighter.
She opened her eyes a while later, or maybe just a couple minutes after, to see her sister slowly getting up, sitting up and stretching her arms, climbing out of bed, pulling on her clothes. She watched, still too sleepy to pay attention, and finally got up herself. Her sister waited as she lumbered to the door, and they made their way down the hallway to the stairs together.
At the top of the stairs, her sister stopped. She turned her head curiously, about to ask why, and felt a small kiss planted on her forehead. Her sister smiled, met her eyes, and pulled her into a hug.
"I love you, June."
"Same here, Callisto."
~~~
End. Feedback is very welcome and appreciated! <3
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alo-piss-trancy · 4 years
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SD/R2 OMO HEADCANONS (Pt1)
Decided it was probably time for me to post a list of my omo hcs for this game since I did the THH chars! Like with the other list, I'll be excluding a couple I have no interest in thinking of omo content of (in this case, Hiy/oko and Teru/teru). I'm breaking this one into multiple posts throughout the week as I compile my thoughts (I'll add a link to all of them on the fic masterlist page later so you can find them all) because I feel this is gonna be a lot longer than my THH post haha!
Here we go, the first 3 (or 4) chars! Please stop reading now if you don't want spoilers for the game bc there will be several!!!
~~~
Gun/dham:
* I firmly hc him as vegetarian (not vegan. He will consume byproducts like milk/cheese/eggs/etc, but only harvested himself or from small farms/sources that he has personally vetted/researched where he knows 100% that the creatures are treated ethically.)
* That's actually not omo-related besides milk oops but it relates to my next point, which is that for the most part he prefers Natural food/drink. Water, fruit or vegetable juices/smoothies, etc. He's not really used to strange 'Human' confections like soda or coffee, so the caffeine and diuretics hit him hard and fast and make it difficult for him to estimate how much time he has. It also makes him jittery/hyped as hell which Does Not Help.
* As long as he isn't screwed over by caffeine or a ton of drinks, he has a decently strong bladder and can hold for a long time. He has a lot of practice from hiding/waiting to help certain animals, laying trapped under sleeping cats/dogs, etc. And also avoiding public restrooms like the Plagues they are for most of the day...
* He's bladdershy AF and has been since early childhood. I saw he had signs drawn on the doors/curtain in his room during my playthrough (including the bathroom) and that is definitely his safezone. Can't go outside either bc 1. He's paranoid he'll be seen by other ppl and 2. That feels disrespectful to the nature deities despite the logic that animals do it all the time. He knows that's dumb and he hates himself for it.
* Sometimes I do like to ignore the bladdershy hc just for some variety. Even in that case tho he'd still be a bit of a diva about which public bathrooms he uses. If it's gross or weird he's gonna avoid it/complain/refuse to go even if bursting. He's stubborn af
* We all know he canonically goes commando. Therefore he is in extra danger because any leaks will go straight to his pants RIP Since he usually wears black it isn't that visable (as long as it's just a bit and not a full wetting), but if he ever has to wear smth else u know he's screwed c':
* He's not very vocal when desperate at all. Mostly strangled whines or grunts (only when alone or if so urgent he can't hide it), he's just so easily embarrassed that he can choke most sound.
* He can also hide his body language pretty well. He can manage to keep himself to rigid posture and the occasional shudder or fidget if needed. Only when he's beyond caught and about to wet will he resort to obvious grabs or dances in front of others.
* Even if he wet he wouldn't cry (I don't seem him crying much for anything tbh, barring extreme things like death). He's angry at himself and extremely ashamed. He would get red as a tomato, attempt to slink away and avoid any witnesses for several days. Could get snippy or hide in his shell all pitiful, depending on the person.
* When alone or sure he can't be caught, he'll fidget more once things are dire. Mostly his long-ass legs. Jiggling, crossing, bending at the knees or bouncing up and down, shuffling from foot-to-foot, everything. He doesn't really do much with his hands beyond a quick crotch-squeeze.
* He'd def let Haj/ime or So/nia dom tf out of him as far as making him hold/lose control, he's submissive and enjoys the challenging test of limits. However, I could also see him totally having a thing for 'marking' his partners during the times he doms.
So/nia:
* Lowkey has a bladder of steel tbh, tho you'd never expect it by looking at her. It takes a lot to get her desperate and even more for her to crack enough to show her needs to others.
* She had a lot of long lectures/lessons, meetings, social events, formal balls, etc. growing up, so she just got used to waiting a lot between breaks so as not to interrupt or be rude to her guests. This also makes her wicked good at remaining completely calm on the outside and keeping the quiver out of her tone even when she's absolutely dying.
* Even once people know her problem, she would NEVER grab herself or dance. Literally the most you'll get out of her is legs crossed at the ankles. For the most part the only sign of her desperation is the slight fullbody shivering where she has her muscles and posture strained. If you're very lucky she may wince or her voice will start shaking/get breathy (her breathing gets super fast and shallow when at her absolute limit. Like nearly hyperventilating fast).
* While not shy at all about asking/telling others where she's going, she was raised with manners. She refuses to interrupt while others are busy, and will wait until she feels the time is appropriate to but into convos or leave the room, even if that could take a long time. She will not skip out on a group task if she can help it bc she feels very strongly about doing her part and not coming off as a slacker (so group investigations/new island exploring/building for Us/ami in Island Mode are all LONG tasks she will force herself to stick out without complaint, even if she's about to wet herself).
* Despite being a princess, she definitely doesn't view anything as being 'beneath' her. If someone asks her to just go outside/in a sketchy place/strange receptacle, she'll do it without question as soon as they agree to glance away. In fact, sometimes it's actually a little thrilling.
* If she did wet herself she would certainly be embarrassed, maybe even teary-eyed depending on the situation/who was around. However, it certainly isn't the end of the world for her, and she would be able to brush it off fairly easily once she got cleaned up and had a chance to breathe. Could probably start making jokes about it by the next day, or just wait patiently for everyone to forget about it.
* Probably has a big piss kink (for others. She isn't much on doing holds herself, minus an occasional 'Damsel in Distress' type roleplay). And honestly just a big one for domming others (sometimes sweetly, sometimes cold/cruel like True Royalty). She looks cute but She Nasty (tm). Gun/dham and Haji/me (to a lesser extent, bc his smart-ass take-no-shit attitude makes him a bit of a brat sometimes lol) are her bitches.
M/ikan (I have to split hers in two bc I have polar opposite hcs) :
Non-Despair M/ikan -
* Is every bit as shy uwu ohnoooo~ as you'd imagine. Super blushy and fidgety and teary-eyed but never admits what's wrong even once it's obvious, to the point of potty-dancing in place (but she's Totally Fine she can hang in there and doesn't need to stop what she's doing)! You literally have to drag her away to the bathroom if u don't want her to have an accident. Would rather die than inconvenience anyone by telling them she has to go, will berate herself for the inconvenience when that backfires and she's made a mess of herself, 120% convinced everyone hates her and p much refuses any comfort bc she's so trapped in the spiral. Bawls her eyes out.
* If on a rare occasion she does work up the nerve to speak up and is denied, that's it. She will not dare ask again even if the person didn't realize how badly she had to go. Nope. Clearly her only option is to hold it until she can't anymore, or until she's alone and can run off by herself.
*Also she totally would whimper to herself in The Worst omo video star voice lmao "Oh noooo I'm leaking into my panties~, it's cOmIng OuTtttt~ uwu uwu uwu" (i'm not making fun of those istg but u know Exactly what 'sexy baby' voice I mean. That is Mi/kan. Don't be so fake bitch We Know u didn't fall spread eagle naturally)
* Says 'Potty' unironically. It's the only word she uses for the bathroom.
* Surprisingly not bladdershy at all. She's actually the opposite. Will go Anywhere (but will be embarrassed while doing it).
* She's used to holding a lot bc afraid to leave class/stuck helping patients for hours on end. However while she has a wicked high capacity and stays very hydrated, she has pretty shaky control. Leaks A LOT, be it in general or bc she gets startled/nervous. She's like a chihuahua lmao. She wears medical liners when on duty as a nurse or during school, but for general hangouts she forgoes them (totally bc she forgot and Not bc she wanted to show her wet panties off to strangers/peers when she falls again, that would be Slu/tty and Improper).
* Once held for ages and then ended up wetting herself just bc Hiy/oko told her to. It wasn't actually a request, just a one-off snippy comment that H forgot about like 10 min after she said it and walked away. When she found out Mi/kan took it seriously she absolutely lost it laughing for the next few days
*Her potty dances include lots of thighs rubbing together/hunching over, hands wandering dangerously close only to pause and grip her skirt/dress hem, hopping from leg to leg and shaking at the knees. She's pitiful when desperate and very cute. Pants and whimpers near constantly, nibbles at her knuckles to try and muffle it.
* Knows when she's at risk of actual damage from holding, but it's still a 50/50 shot of whether she'll break down and go or keep trying to hold. She knows it's unwise, but due to her complete lack of self worth she doesn't really care if her own body is damaged.
* That said, she monitors everyone else very closely and will harass them firmly to take breaks if they're at risk.
Despair/True Mik/an -
* MASSIVE PISS KI/NK. Loves to be dommed/told to hold until she wets. LOVES to do the same to others and tell them all the mean things for a change. She will borderline Break You.
* Takes great satisfaction in watching others struggle. If given an opportunity to make others desperate/prevent them from getting to a bathroom without revealing herself, she will definitely take it. She has no sympathy.
* The Queen of lacing things with diuretics, but can also often find that boring/too easy. A bit disdainful of that method tbh.
* Tying ppl down to hold or hooking them to IVs and 'misplacing' the call button is more her style.
* Used to hold for Jun/ko a lot to appease her. Would be willing to hold for Na/gito, but tbh he's just as willing to hold for her so it's a bit of a stalemate and they've yet to work out who does what.
* Will piss on her victim/lover while staring them directly in the eyes. Does not flinch. She toes the line between sexy and just plain creepy lol
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