#Camping and touching grass for almost a week did not in fact make me better. It made me worse. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wizkiddx · 4 years ago

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supercluster

this is my entry for @hollandsrecs 'toms birthday fanfic fest' event - go check it out!!! I know its a early but im v bored so have it now. also im acc kinda really proud of this one, any feedback would be v appreciated 🤍

the prompt was: 'you and tom are best friends and you tell him that you love him on his birthday'

summary: its toms birthday but he has a few things to get off his chest and into the night sky, y/n joins in with a bit of a revelation too

best friends -> lovers

warnings: mentions of alcohol, bit angsty but promise ends all fluffy and a shit tonne of dialogue

wc: 3.5k ishhh

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Everything got a little too wild and stuffy in the living area, Haz and Harry screaming sweet caroline, whilst Greg (Tom’s stunt man) was pouring *another* round of shots. The sweatiness and clamminess of the room meant Y/n took a moment to escape, sliding out the double doors, and closing them softly behind her to ensure no one would notice her little escape. Something about the midnight air, the slightly dewy smell of the neighbouring fields, felt like it was refreshing Y/n from the inside out. When she turned around, back facing the fancy rented house, she was slightly shocked by Tom standing in the garden. It was his birthday party after all. In all honesty, Y/n felt a bit guilty she hadn’t noticed he wasn’t in the thick of it with his brothers and castmates.

His silhouette was set against the clear night sky, the stars extra prominent this evening and the moon casting a soft glow off the left side of his face, exaggerating the natural contours of his jawline and cheekbones. Clearly, he was enraptured by the sky, staring up at it with a thoughtful look on his face.

And Y/n recognised that look instantly; she knew what he was doing.

In fact, he had taught her to do precisely the same thing. As kids, the Hollands, Y/n’s family and another two families from the local area all went camping together. It was an annual event, ‘the Kingston collective camping adventure’ as Dom had named it. Y/n couldn’t remember a year when they hadn’t gone actually - it was that much of a tradition.

One year, though, when she and Tom were about 9, her mothers’ due date coincided with the camping dates. So, sensibly, the decision had been made that Y/n and her brother would just be looked after by the Hollands - whilst her mum and dad were safely tucked up in bed at home, awaiting the arrival of her littlest brother.

Y/n, her brother Alex, and Tom were all sharing a tent, and it must’ve been at least midnight that Tom was awoken by shuffling and zipping up of the tent. He’d realised she was gone through sleepy eyes and, without a second thought, went to go find her. Sure enough, she wasn’t far away, not even 50 metres from the tent, crouched on the grass. Immediately Tom’s presence had been noticed, making Y/m quickly snivel and wipe her face.

“Are you upset?”

“Go away Tom.” The comment didn’t do a lot, though; instead, 9-year-old Tom had planted himself down next to her - his pyjamas getting wet on the moist grass floor.

“Are you missing Auntie Sarah and Uncle Mike?” In the same way that Y/n called Nikki and Dom auntie and uncle, the Holland boys mirrored the nicknames for her parents. Y/n replied with a long sigh before hiccuping, failing to control the stream of tears. Yes, he was right - this was her first night away from her parents- but she wasn't about to spill her heart out to the 'stupid boy' who had stolen one of her marshmallows that evening. Tom’s little brown eyes swelled, looking slightly terrified and out of his depth, whilst with all his 9 years of wisdom, trying to come up with an answer.

“Do you want to play football to forget about it?”

Unsurprisingly Y/n shook her head violently. Tom cursed inwardly at himself for saying the wrong thing, apparently football wasn't the answer to everything. The two children went back to silence until Tom had the metaphorical light bulb moment. “My mum told me something for when I got to sleepovers? Look!” He grabbed Y/n’s little hand, extending it upwards towards the night sky.

“No matter where you are, you’re all looking at the same stars too, right?”

Tom jumped a little before looking over his shoulder and recognising Y/n with the softest smile that grew across his face. Y/n slowly walked to his side, arms crossed over her chest to try and keep the cold at bay, joining Tom in staring up at the starry expanse.

“How do you always know?” Tom spoke in a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. It was true, she did always know - but his question was somewhat irrelevant. They'd spent most their childhood together, they were as easy to read as a children’s book to each other.

“Missing home?”

“Sort of, I got my own slice of home with the boys and-and you but… pads, mum dad yeh, feel like on your birthday your always supposed to see your family.”

Although Harry, Harrison, Sam and Y/n had managed to fly out to surprise Tom on his birthday- prior commitments meant his parents and youngest brother hadn’t been able to make it. They four arrived yesterday, greeted by a very shocked and pretty emotional Tom - who had clearly been missing the sense of home somewhat. He’d been away shooting a film, then straight away launching into press for the next spiderman movie. It had been a long while since he’d been in London - half a year in fact.

This time too, he’d been away without a single family member or friend - that was another truth he’d learnt about growing up. Your friends and family, they all get lives of their own. Tom used to be a trailblazer, the first to get a job, the one everyone was super proud of. They still were, of course, but didn’t dote on him in quite the same way - everyone had their own shit to deal with. It was yet another reason Tom wasn’t welcoming his birthday as much as he usually would.

“Your parents did always spoil you rotten.”

“They spoilt you worst and you’re not technically their kid.” Y/n rolled her eyes, even if it might slightly true - muttering a ‘touche’ at the brown-haired boy next to her. Their families had always been close; naturally the adults seemed to gravitate more to the kids that weren’t their own. The ones who you could ‘give back’ at the end of the day. It just so happened Nikki and Dom had always loved having Y/n around, maybe a bit more than anyone else.

“Have you had a good birthday then? You should be in there with Greg pouring that shitty vodka down your throat.” Y/n questioned, whilst shrugging back toward the house, the dull thump of Jacob's playlist just audible. Still, both stared upwards, standing close enough that their upper arms were both pressed up against each other. She expected a jovial answer, but even from his tone, it was evident there was something up. He sounded…weary?

“I’m bloody glad you all came...don’t get me wrong, I love Z and Jacob and everyone but….”

“Shitty week?”

“Shitty birthday week of promo and press.” Tom scathed, and Y/n nodded. Even if she couldn’t understand what was so bad about press, she knew that Tom hated it passionately. And in the same way, he loved all his castmates dearly, but they hadn’t known him his whole life. They didn’t understand why he did every little thing; their values lay just that bit apart. It just wasn’t the same as being surrounded with his family - you and Harrison adopted Hollands too.

“I just feel like I’ve spent all week trapped in a room answering the most stupid, irrelevant and inconsequential questions... Everything’s just so surface level and fake and, and I-“He cut himself off, for the first time meeting Y/n’s eyes. In all honesty, Tom got a bit caught up in the stars reflecting off her piercing y/e/c eyes before changing tack.

“Will you do me a favour?”

This wasn’t spoken with the normal Tom tone. It wasn’t joking or jovial; it wasn’t an ‘off the tongue’ thing. This was spoken with such seriousness and gravitas coming from his deep voice that Y/n replied equally truthfully.

“Always T, you know that.”

“Will you please ask me a personal and serious and deep question?”

She got where he was coming from too.

Clearly, even though the evening was supposed to be a light piss up in celebration, it had instead unearthed some darker thoughts that Tom had been harbouring away. Perhaps he never even realised he needed such seriousness, or perhaps with his castmates he hadn’t felt comfortable exposing himself like that. Either way, Y/n was going to respect him now. It was technically his birthday, too; the clocks had already struck 12 - it was now his day.

It wasn’t tricky to think of one; she’d often wondered the same question of him - never with the opportunity to ask. The question popped into her head again, almost as soon as Tom asked for one.

“Okay…. What’s your deepest regret that makes you feel guilty for feeling because in the grand scheme of things, it minor? Like such a 'first world problem'." What do you regret that’s just completely selfish?”

Tom immediately stiffened, his jaw tensing as he worked through his thoughts in his head. Scared she’d pushed it too far, Y/n averted her gaze back to the sky, chewing her bottom lip slightly. It took a moment, but then she saw Tom turn towards her, in the peripheries of her vision. With a tightly closed-lip smirk on his face he joked “If your gonna ask questions like that, we better sit down.”

And so they did, both sitting crossed legged on the ground, knees brushing against each other. Just on the grass lawn, almost mirroring themselves all those years ago as kids in that camping site. Y/n wondered if she should offer to play football instead - to cheer him up.

“Missing out. I miss out months at a time. Miss out on seeing mum and dad, miss out on the pub quizzes with the boys, miss out seeing you… I mean, I didn’t even know you had a new job until you mentioned it this morning. I miss out on time with nana Tess and all my grandparents, and that’s scary cos… well, every time I go, it could be the last time… I don’t know, I just… I get so much, get to travel, to see the world, but… sometimes it feels like I’m sacrificing the foundations. And without the foundations….”

“The walls come crumbling down.” Y/n finished off his sentence quietly, barely whispering the words - but from Tom’s nod of agreement, it seemed like she’d hit the nail on the head. There was silence for a beat till Y/n whispered to him.

“Well, happy birthday to you” Trying to bring the mood up a little, she bumped his shoulder, and Tom chuckled breathily.

“Seriously! This is helping me out. I-I just need to get everything out and start my 25th year fresh.”

“Hey, if that’s all you want, I’m getting a refund on my present- we can just get deep and interview each other.”

“I’m game, except I’m keeping the present too.”

“Just because it’s your birthday and I’m a bit tipsy, I’ll allow it.”

“Okay, well then, Y/n L/n”, He spoke formally, leaning in closer and making her giggle a little. “What’s your biggest regret?”

“Honestly?” Tom just repeated her in reply, but this time it was a statement.

"Honestly."

He really was going deep too. No holding back now. Y/n sucked on her cheek before replying. “Not travelling with you when we were 19… I was just so determined to get to uni and start grown-up life, but… well, grown-up life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I should’ve tried to stay a kid longer, messing about on your film sets and pretending it was work. I think I would’ve learnt more from seeing the world with you.”

“Well, I am very knowledgable.”

“Shut up, you drop out- who didn't know what a drag race was.” She wasn’t wrong, and whilst yes, he had dropped out to be a film star - he was still a dropout. (with exceptionally poor knowledge of RuPaul) He scowled, then leaning back on his hands, so he was half reclined on the grass as Y/n thought of her next question.

“Whats your biggest worry?”

“Easy.” He chuffed, making Y/n furrow her brows at him. Clearly, he’d already thought of this. “That I finally settle down with the love of my life, and then the fans or press or paps ruin it.”

It made sense; every time Tom had gone public with a relationship, it had ended in a minor car crash. Typically it was also the girl who got hurt; she was the ‘victim’ in everything. Though Y/n had seen first hand the effect it had had on Tom - he never made it out damage-free.

“You make it sound like you’ve already got this dream girl queued and waiting.”

“I wish”, Tom sighed, as Y/n took the opportunity to completely lie down on the grass, staring up at the dark abyss. She’d always loved the stars and had become a bit of a geek on them as they’d grown up too- and maybe it was all down to Tom on that camping trip. Following suit, Tom copied her, his head resting on his hands that were crossed behind his head, taking in the moment of pure peace as they lay on the grass.

“You see that bright one there?” Pointing up, Y/n shimmied closer to him so that he definitely saw the same thing as her. “It’s actually not one. Look closer.” Humming, Tom shifted a bit closer, so her shoulder slotted under the side of his body just the teeniest bit. It meant he could follow her direction and squinted up at the little patch of the sky.

“ 5…maybe 6? What is it?”

“The pliedes supercluster…. basically a big group of stars that all were born from the same place- the same stellar nursery.”

“But they’re moving now?” She hummed in confirmation to his question, briefly glancing at the way his eyes were fixed on the sky. For the first time he seemed genuinely interested in hearing her stories of the stars. It usually was an eye roll and ‘you’re so lame’.

“They’re called the sibling stars… like everything in life, as they get older they drift apart but…. but to us down here? They’ll always be associated together because they have a gravitational effect on each other. They’ll always have their thing tying them together. Like an invisible string.”

“Sounds like you’re being metaphorical.” Tom chuckled, expecting a taunt back but receiving nothing except a gentle agreement.

“Theres also actually 7. The last one people can only sometimes see… it’s a pulsing star, so comes and goes.”

“They do that?”

“Yeh, and no matter what… if you can see it or not, it’s always there. Always having an impact on its family.”

Biting his lower lip slightly, Tom repositioned his head slightly, Y/n’s words taking time to be fully absorbed. He was sure she was making parallels to him. Barely there, appearing and disappearing, but always a part of the family.

“You are being metaphorical.”

“Maybe.” She whispered shortly. “Metaphors depend on who’s listening and if they draw parallels to their own life. It’s subjective. You can’t tell anyone what is and isn’t metaphor…. it takes the beauty out of it.”

“Right, sure... But if you were…. me, harry, Sam, pads, you, Haz, Tuwaine? That the 7?” Y/n held back the little smile at his words. Tom wasn’t as ‘head in the clouds’ as she was- he was literal. Also, he was bloody stubborn when he wanted to be.

“I wasn’t being metaphorical T.” He knew she was lying. She knew that he knew. But it still helped him, made him feel a bit better. That he was always, in some way, having some effect... lives always intertwined with the people he cared about the most.

“Tell me another story about another star.”

Time for the rest of the night kind of got lost. The two young adults just lay on the grass, entirely in their own little world, using each others body heat to keep themselves warm through the early hours. Neither felt remotely tired, Y/n whispering her little stories of both the myths and science of the old stars, pointing out each planet. Meanwhile, Tom listened in awe, for once not taking the mick out of her incredibly geeky hobby. Instead, he found himself getting fascinated by all the little intricacies Y/n was so passionate about.

It was only when the stars began to fade, as orangey-red hue started to seep up from the horizon the either noticed the time. It was now the morning of the next day, the house long since had turned silent behind them - presumably, everyone finally passing out shit faced.

As the stars’ light was overtaken by the rising sun, Y/n ran out of stories; the two settled into silence - neither quite ready to go to bed yet.

“It’s still my turn,” Tom spoke into the sky before pivoting his head to look Y/n in the eye, seeing the confusion in her furrowed brows. “It’s my question to ask. My turn.”

“Aren’t you sick of my voice yet?” There was absolutely no reason that they were both whispering. It wasn’t like anyone was trying to listen or that they’d disturb anyone else my talking normally. But it was nicer that way. It felt calming... intimate even.

“One more. And then you get one more… and then we really should probably go to bed.” He didn’t want the night to end; he was immensely enjoying this weird grey time between being 25 and 26. But it was cold, Tom could tell Y/n had started to feel it a little more. To be fair, she was only in a floral day dress, not much in the way of warmth. With a hum of agreement, Y/n smiled lightly at him, urging his question.

“Whats the biggest secret you’ve kept from me?”

With a bit of a scoff, Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, trying to draw some strength she wasn’t sure she had. It wasn’t like she needed to wrack her brains to come up with it - she knew instantly. Almost painfully too.

“Uhm, honestly?” Now even more intrigued, Tom nodded, using his foot for nudge hers - encouraging her to speak. “Probably how much you mean to me.”

“Oh” He couldn’t help it; the sound just slipped out his mouth without checking with his brain first. That answer had just been so unexpected. He had honestly been thinking that it would be something about how ‘fame had changed him’. After hearing that, Y/n turned her head up the sky again, feeling like her cheeks were on fire with embarrassed heat. Tom knew he had fucked up.

“No, I… I didn’t mean- just just ask me too.” With a sigh, Y/n waved off his stumbled answer as he tried to cover himself.

“This is stup-“

“Ask me!” For the first time in 5 hours, Tom spoke at an normal volume - but it felt painfully loud, like a shout.

“What’s the biggest secret you kept from me?” Her tone was defeated, but nevertheless, he answered.

“How upset I was when you didn’t come when we were 19. I got why, but it was still annoying. Felt like you were picking uni friends over me-“ At this point on any other evening, Y/n would have interjected and argued. None of this situation was normal, though, so she chose to hear him out. “- I know it’s stupid, but…. I guess that’s how much you meant an-and still mean to me too.”

There was silence for a couple minutes, waiting whilst the sun started to peep over the horizon, the lone witness to an otherwise very private conversation. That was until Y/n barely spoke, more like mouthed 2 simple words.

“I lied.” The intensity of the way Tom stared at her made Y/n wish that the sun hadn’t been so bright, that they were back in the darkness that hid her face more. “Biggest lie I’ve told you … that I’m not in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t see because she couldn’t face looking at him, but Tom’s face erupted into the most prominent, toothiest smile. Whilst Tom was enjoying the moment of being absolutely ecstatic, Y/n was waiting for a response- feeling her world come crashing in. That she'd just destroyed one of the most important friendships in her life too.

But then he said the opposite of what she thought he would.

“I lied too.”

That had her attention, whipping her head toward him as Tom rolled onto his side on the lawn, balancing with his head resting on one hand. “I lied that I’ve not been completely under your spell since we were kids at that campsite, and you were homesick.”

Y/n’s heart was literally in her mouth, brain overwhelmed but one overriding thought oh so bloody clear.

She’d lost control of everything, arching up to mirror Tom. Using one hand, she reached out to cup Tom’s jaw, to which he instinctively leant toward - until their lips were mere centimetres apart, hot breath fanning over each other.

Y/n no control as she whispered those 3 words against his lips. No control at how immediately after he pressed his to hers; no control as Tom guided her to roll on top of him, knees either side of his torso as his strong arms wrapped around her back.

Once again, time was lost between the two, only pulling apart when their lungs burned for oxygen.

“For the record, I love you too.” Grinning from ear to ear, Tom used one hand to gently stroke his thumb across her cheek, switching his focus from her left to right eye - in wonder at how the early morning sun reflected from her y/e/c irises. He’d always thought she was beyond beautiful, but when she was this close to him, with the sun rising behind her in such a way - she looked damn ethereal.

“Happy birthday T.” Nodding in agreement, Tom chuckled before finding her lips once again, whispering against them.

“Yeh, happy damn birthday to me.”

~~~~let me know what you think ;) ~~~~~

tagging: @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove @crossyourpeter

#tom Holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #writing challenge #tbff21 #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #harry Holland

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bnhabadass · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Hawks x Reader Warnings: NSFW, Apocalypse AU Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4489 A/N: So excited to share with you all my contribution to this month’s bnharem smut server collaboration. I would like to give a big thanks to @candychronicles for beta reading this and to @hisoknen for introducing me to Fotor. My banner looks so much better now thanks to you. Don’t forget to check out everyone else’s stories here!

If there’s one thing you miss most about the old world it’s the color green. The bright green of trees in the summer, the soft grass you would run through barefoot, the small insects that blend in so well with their surroundings. You haven’t seen any of that in ages. As you run through the woods, all you can see is brown. The moss patterns snaking their way up tree trunks have all disappeared. Dead leaves crunch under your heavy boots and the trees around you are so dry they could catch fire in an instant.

You stop to catch your breath. How long have you been running? Two miles? You’re not sure if you lost the raiders or not. What you do know is that you’re alone, you don’t have much food and if you don’t find a good source of water soon, the oozing cut on your leg will become infected.

You find a tree stump to rest on and take a swig out of your canteen. You’re tired. Your body has never ached this much before. Every muscle is pounding, every crevasse uges to be stretched. As you try to move your left leg, you can’t help but hold back tears. It stings too much. You take the bandana out of your hair and tightly tie it around the slice in your leg. You take a safety pin out of your backpack and secure the cloth. It’s not much, but it will keep pressure on the wound until you can find something to patch it up. You might need to raid someone’s campsite to find a bandage. The thought sickens you. You hate associating yourself with them.

You were the medic of your team, the keeper of all the medicine, bandages and any antiseptic wipes that you came across. Your team members would do the hunting and the raiding and they would come back to base each with an arm full of food and supplies for the lot of you.

Then they started dropping like flies. One of them got sick and wouldn’t get better. Another got an infection that you couldn’t get rid of. You still beat yourself up for his death every time you think about him. One of your teammates went hunting and never came back. Pretty soon it was just you and your team leader. You stayed together for a week. She taught you how to hunt and you taught her what plants were edible and which ones could be used for healing. Then the raiders came and now it is just you.

You close your backpack and stand up. Nothing good will come out of sulking, so you might as well try and make a move on.

As the sun sets, the fiery orange colors swarm across the sky. The moon rises up and slowly comes into view. At least that’s one thing that’s the same from the old world.

Without the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you can feel the stinging of the cut on your leg even more. You limp through the woods at the pace of a tortoise for what feels like hours.

The only food in your backpack is a can of fruit salad leftover from an abandoned grocery store raid. It’s something, but it wouldn’t be enough to subside the growling in your stomach.

A light catches your eye. Smoke rises from the top of the trees. You could go over there and see how many people there are. If there’s only one you might be able to take them on. Two or more could end in a disaster, but if you have the slightest chance of making it out with gauze and a hunk of meat roasted over the fire you might be able to survive the night.

Your eyes squint and you walk forward, trying to get a closer look. You are off your guard when you feel something tug around your ankle and hoist you into the air. You can’t help but let out a small shriek. You are quick to cover your mouth with your hand but you are very much aware that the noise alerted the people near the fire.

“Well well well,” a voice from below you sang. “Looks like I caught a little dove.”

The rope around your ankle is tight. You feel your foot starting to grow numb as the person from below lowers the trap, setting you free.

“Who are you?” You fiddle with the rope but the knot is too tight.

“Allow me.” You look up at the person, the man standing in front of you. He takes out a large swiss army knife and opens the blade. He saws through the rope, careful not to cut you. “Sorry about that,” he says when it’s finally off. “People don’t usually come around here so I’ve never gotten anyone hung up on these bigger traps.”

He extends a hand out for you and you take a moment to study his features. He has messy ash blonde hair that is slightly overgrown. His toned muscles are enunciated by the fact that he is only wearing an undershirt.

You grab his big, slightly sweaty hand and stumble up from the ground.

“Whoa easy there.” His friendly tone of voice hits differently than the other people you have come across throughout your nomadic travels. It’s very soothing, trustworthy. And that makes you worry all the more.

“What do you want from me?” you ask.

The man eyes you up and down. His gaze makes you feel uncomfortable, like he’s eating you up with his eyes.

“What happened there?” He points to your leg and the blood soaked bandana that has begun sliding down to your ankle.

“Raiders.” A one word response that everyone knew meant trouble. “Now answer my question. What do you want from me?” Your voice is sturdy and, in your opinion, threatening.

But the man just laughs. “Trust me, dove. There isn’t much I want from you.” He begins walking back towards his camp site. You watch as he leaves but he stops in his tracks. “Coming?”

The man’s campsite was small. A red pickup truck is parked at one end of the clearing. It doesn’t look like it runs anymore. Mud and dirt have been spread along its side to cover up its bright hue.

“So,” the man asks. “Do you have a name?” He is fiddling with the contents in a small lock box as he speaks.

“I’m,” you seath as the pain from your leg begins to get to you. “(Y/n).”

“That’s a pretty name,” the man says. “I’m Keigo. So, (Y/n). Let’s get that cut cleaned up.”

You are confused. People in this day and age aren’t usually nice, especially to stragglers like yourself. “What are you doing?” you ask when you see him come over to you with a cloth soaked in some substance. You pull your leg back out of instinct but your breath hitches again when the stinging returns.

“It’s just an antiseptic,” he says while putting his arms up in defense. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Cautiously, you scooch over to him and rest your leg on a small tree stump.

Keigo slowly pulls his arms back down and kneels on the ground, taking your leg in his firm hand. His hand is warm. It’s big, much bigger than yours, but it has a gentle touch that calms you down as he presses the cloth to your wound.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the stinging.

“Sh sh sh I’m sorry. I know it stings.” He extends a hand out for you to grasp and you squeeze it as he continues wiping the dry blood off of your leg.

It isn’t long before your leg is bandaged up tightly, keeping pressure on the gauze underneath.

“That should hold for a while.” Keigo smiles down at his work and you can’t help but find it a little bit arrogant.

“How did you even get your hands on antiseptic? I was like the medic of my group and we could never find anything more than those shitty wipes during grocery store and pharmacy raids.”

Keigo looks at you with a smirk lacing his face. His friendly eyes are replaced with dangerous ones, ones that cause a hot pit to form in your stomach and travel lower, below your belt. “Let’s just say I have a few dirty tricks up my sleeve.”

“S-so you’re a raider,” you stutter. “You stole that bottle from another person.”

He chuckles slightly and the sound causes goosebumps to run up your spine. “Not exactly, it’s a lot more complicated than that, but believe what you will. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You’re confused, somewhat afraid, and slightly turned on by the deepness of his voice and the vibrations emanating from his laugh.

“You should stay for dinner,” he says, voice returning to the cheerful and almost goofy tone it had before.

You hesitate, but your stomach growls as if on cue and you spot the piece of meat Keigo has laid out to place over the fire. You let out a huff. “Why not.”

Keigo has cut the piece of meat in half. He places it on a hard plastic plate and slides it over to you. It’s juicy but bland. Still, you’re grateful to have a hot meal instead of having to gather berries and edible flowers.

“Is it good?” Keigo asks.

You nod your head, face stuffed full. “Yeah. I haven’t had chicken in so long.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You can’t help but laugh at the fake shocked expression gracing Keigo’s face.

“How did you even catch a chicken? They usually aren’t wandering around in the middle of the woods.”

“Neither are damsels in distress like yourself.” The sly smirk on Keigo’s face causes knots to form in your stomach as a wave of embarrassment washes over you.

“I wouldn’t say I’m a damsel in distress,” you mumble. Your head is turned in the other direction as you try to avoid eye contact.

Keigo raises his eyebrows and chuckles. “Oh yeah? Tell me, how did you get out of that trap earlier? Oh, and who bandaged up your bloody calf and squeezed your hand when the pain was too much to bear?”

“Shut up.” You lean over to playfully shove him, but in the process you fall off the stump you were sitting on. Your butt hits the ground with a thud.

Keigo laughs and extends a hand for you to take.

You reach for it, but as soon as he pulls you up he has yanked you over to him. You are now sitting on his lap and your spine can’t help but shiver as his big calloused yet comforting hands drag up and down your exposed arms.

“Poor clumsy thing,” Keigo says, a darker tone taking over his voice. He continues to warm you up.

You can feel his hot breath tickle the back of your neck as he moves his hands up to your shoulder blades.

“You don’t do much fighting do you?” he asks. His thumbs methodically move to work the knots out of your shoulders.

“I–” You have to recollect your thoughts and focus on anything other than his hands and the magic they’re working. “I told you I was the medic of my group. I, ah, I spent a lot of time treating hunting wounds.”

“So you’re hunched over someone’s broken body all day.” He stops using his thumbs to attack your shoulders and moves to using his knuckles and fists. “I can see why you have all these knots then.”

You can’t help but contract your body forward as he moves his hands down your lower back. You let out an involuntarily breathy moan at his actions.

Keigo chuckles, leaning his mouth in the crook of your neck. “You know your skin is really soft,” he mumbles.

You bark out a laugh. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re going to make a skin suit out of me.”

He laughs too and he gives your sides a slight squeeze.

You turn and look at the ash blonde man. He weaves his fingers in his hair and looks back at you with a devilish smirk. He’s beautiful, one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. And he’s touching you. His hands are groping your shoulders and your sides. You want them to travel all over you, from the plushness of your ass to the valley between your breasts.

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you feel something warm on your lips. Him. His lips crash into yours. It takes a moment for you to recognize your surroundings, what’s going on. His lips are dry and slightly cracked from the heat but you don’t mind.

Without removing your lips from his, you shift to a more comfortable position and Keigo is quick to continue roaming his hands all over you. He grabs your ass with one and tangles the other in your hair. When he pulls, you let out a gasp and he bites your lip, a low growl escaping his throat.

Tears pick in the corner of your eyes as the sensitive skin grows hot.

Keigo wipes them away with his thumbs. “I guess little doves don’t like teeth.” He picks up your arms and lazily wraps them around his neck. You clasp them together and adjust your position on his lap. “So tell me, dove. What kind of things do you like?”

Your face is hot. You wish you could smooth that feeling back but you can’t move under his gaze.

“What’s the matter?” he asks with that dark, sultry voice. “Cat got your tongue? I hear they prey on little birdies like you.”

You whimper slightly. There is so much you want to say to him but the heat pooling in your abdomen and the fluids leaking into your panties distract from any thoughts. Instead, you tangle your hands into his thick hair. It’s a bit greasy but so is yours. You don’t mind. You tug on a lock and grind your hips forward. You can feel the strain of his cock press onto your clothed folds, already soaked with anticipation.

“Someone’s a bit needy today aren’t we,” Keigo says. He takes one of his thumbs and puts it in your mouth. “Suck.”

His demand leaves you weak in the knees. You comply and begin sucking tightly on his thumb. Your tongue wraps around it and the bitter flavor is quick to take over your tastebuds.

As you suck on his thumb, Keigo moves his free hand up your tank top. He grabs one of your breasts and snakes his fingers underneath your bra to stroke your nipple.

You gasp as a shock of cold wind brushes past them. The bud becomes stiff and Keigo rolls the peak between his fingers.

“Are you gonna just sit there, or are you going to put that mouth to work?”

You blush and go back to sucking on his thumb. You lick a long stripe up the pad of his finger as he fondles your breast.

He slides his one hand around your chest and you hear the click of bra clasps becoming undone. The bra slides down your arms and you chuck it to the side.

Keigo takes his thumb out of your mouth and slides his other hand under your shirt. He thumbs over the sensitive skin of your nipple. “You know, you have a nice rack,” he says. “The perfect size, really.” He lifts your shirt up so he can see you in full. He traces his fingers over every scar and blemish you have gotten over the years of hiding and raiding and trying your hardest to put up a fight.

He leans in to press his mouth against your breast. He kisses between them and works his way down past the scars and scrapes to the waistband of your pants.

“Wait.” Your hands move to grab his wrist. “Is there, I don’t know, anywhere more comfortable where we could do this?”

Keigo looks around at the ground covered with dead leaves and miscellaneous supplies he’s tossed around. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize little birdies like you need to be pampered.”

The tease in his voice nips at you like ice and you can’t help but feel even more overheated than you already are. “Little birdies have fragile bones,” you retort.

The wicked grin on his face widdens and he chuckles into your neck, nipping it and taking you off guard.

He slides his arms under you and hoists you up. He turns around so you can’t see where he’s walking but your legs wrap around him, clinging like a koala.

Keigo jumps up onto something. He sets you down and you can see that you’re now standing in the bed of the truck. An open sleeping bag lies over a busted up looking mattress. You can’t help but smile at the thought of laying in a bed for once, be that a broken mattress with springs poking out the sides.

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you feel Keigo’s arm snake around you, pulling you close. You move your arms up and cup his cheek.

He leans in and kisses you again, this time with more force like a wild beast devouring its prey.

Your hands trail up his stomach under his shirt. Your fingers dance as they caress every one of his muscles. You are eager to rip the tight black t-shirt off of him and he can tell. As your fingernails rake their way down his back, Keigo lets go of your lips to pull off his shirt. In the split second he was off of your lips, you could see something red across his back. A tattoo maybe. You couldn’t make out what it was but it fades in your mind all together when he leans his mouth down to suck on the stiff peaks of your nipples.

He makes sure to give them equal attention before yet again trailing his way down your stomach with soft and sweet kisses. As he pushes you back with a gentle touch, you fall back onto the busted mattress. A loud creaking noise emanates from the truck bed but Keigo doesn’t seem to notice. He resumes his position between your legs. His fingers masterfully undo the button of your jeans and slide them down your legs.

You have never felt this exposed. Sure you’ve been naked with other people before but never in the woods where anyone could come across you at any moment, be that a raider or a hunter or someone trying to escape just like yourself. Still, every time you look down your stomach and meet Keigo’s gaze, you melt into butter and slip out of your worries.

“Now tell me,” Keigo said, beginning to drag your panties down. You stay connected to them with a thin strand of your own slick. “What do little birdies taste like?”

This is wrong. You’ve just met this guy. He’s a complete stranger. You don’t know who he is or what kind of person he was in the old world. You don’t know whether or not he is the type of person to make you chicken soup when you’ve come down with a cold or let you borrow a cup of sugar when you’re short when making a recipe. In the old world you would have never fucked a stranger after only knowing them a few hours. It’s all so foreign to you.

But this isn’t the old world and the way that Keigo growls just at the sight of your sopping cunt has your eyes near rolling into the back of your skull.

Keigo has pulled your panties down to your ankles. He chucks them aside before taking you in. Your hair is sprawled out against the creaking mattress. He has barely touched you yet you look like you’re on ecstasy. He wastes no time in hoisting your legs over his shoulders. He can’t help but feel prideful in the way you gasp at his rough movements.

You squirm underneath him as you feel Keigo drag the bridge of his nose across your opening to your delicate clit. The warmth of his tongue drags across and you let out a loud moan.

His fingers pinch your tender clit and you buck your hips forward against his soft lips. Keigo wastes no time in feasting on you. After all, you’ve proven to be quite the needy little dove.

Keigo prods and sucks at your clit. He sticks two of his fingers in and flicks them upward at a teasing pace. He chuckles at the sight of you thrashing and bucking your hips against him.

Every time you open your eyes to look at him, heat rises to your cheeks and you force yourself to look away.

He’s done this before. He knows his way around a pussy. From the way he dips his hot tongue into your slick walls and massages your clit with wet fingers, it isn’t long before the tethered cord within you snaps and you spray your juices against his fingers and against his face.

“Too much,” you said, placing a shaky hand on his bicep.

Keigo looks into your eyes. The darkened look he has shows that he could eat you without hesitation. He looks like he is ready to pounce. Instead, he takes the fingers covered in your juices and sticks them in his mouth. He runs his tongue between them and nearly sucks them dry.

You are still quivering below him, twitching from the lasting effects of your orgasm.

“Delicious,” he says, releasing his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop.

Your heart rate begins to slow. You sit up, although your muscles have a slight ache as you do so.

“Are you ready?”

Your mellow eyes meet Keigo’s feral ones. In the time it had taken you to sit up, he had stripped away his pants leaving him in just his briefs. The prominent tent below is what catches your eye. His hard on is begging to be let free. You tenderly lift your hand up and rub over his clothed crotch. The deep inhale he takes followed by a low growl makes your insides melt.

Keigo pulls at the waistband of his briefs, letting his hardened cock spring free. He steps out of them and thrusts his pelvis towards your face. His shaft slaps against your cheek and you take his hint.

Your hand wraps around his shaft and pumps against it a few times. Your thumb smooths over the tip and tongue tentatively licks the drops of precum that leak out. It’s salty and the sweetness comes from seeing the way Keigo melts as soon as your tongue glides against his length.

“That’s a good little dove.” His fingers tangle in your hair and his hand pushes you forward, forcing you to take his length in your mouth.

You grip onto the back of his thighs to balance yourself. Heat rises to your cheeks as it dawns on you how intimate you are being with him. His hand pulls on your hair as your mouth works wonders on him. His balls slap against your chin and you can’t help but let out a moan, the vibrations from your mouth work their way to his core.

You cup his balls as you try and milk him for all he’s worth. You give them a gentle little squeeze and his knees buckle. He tightens the grip on your hair to catch himself from falling.

Before he can cum, he pulls out of your mouth. Droplets of your spit fall from your lips. A strand of saliva that still connects you to his dick breaks off.

Facing away from you, Keigo strokes himself a couple times. “Why don’t you lean back,” he suggests.

You follow his orders and lie down on the mattress. The springs dig into your shoulder blades once again but anticipation keeps you from fixating on it too much.

Keigo leans down and hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. He gives your tender pussy another lick before slapping his dick against your puffy clit.

As you let out a moan, he lines his cock up to your entrance and snaps his hips forward.

You grip onto his bicep as he thrusts himself in and out at a fast pace, faster than you’re used to. You suppose he couldn’t wait. His dick is long and his girth stretches you out in all the right ways.

You try and catch your breath but you can barely keep up with the way Keigo pounds into you.

“Is this good for you, dove,” Keigo asks. He hikes your other leg up and leans in, touching his forehead with yours.

You scream in pain and pleasure as he hits your mark perfectly with this new position.

Your nails cling onto his back and your mouth finds comfort on his shoulder as you bite into him.

He lets out a sharp bark, almost like a howl as your velvety walls contort around his dick in all the right ways.

Keigo wets his fingers and trails them down to your swollen clit. He presses against it which only causes you to let out a scream in ecstasy.

It’s not long before the pressure built within you snaps and you tighten even more around Keigo’s hardened cock, letting your juices spill around it.

Keigo continues to pump in and out of you until his own release. He pulls out and cums onto your chest. As you sit up, the warm mess rolls down your abdomen and spills out on the sleeping bag covered mattress.

Keigo hands you a small towel. “Here.”

As you wipe the ropes of cum off of your chest and stomach you can’t help but think of the old world. Before the end of society as you knew it you would have never fucked a stranger two hours after meeting them.

Keigo has pulled his pants back up but leaves his shirt off. You watch as he pokes at the dying fire, bringing the embers back to life. On his back, you can finally see the bit of red that caught your eye earlier. A tattoo. Two red wings coming out of his shoulder blades. Keigo is an interesting guy, one you want to know more about. The thought of getting to know him better makes you blush and the apples of your cheeks raise in a genuine smile, something that you haven’t felt in a long time.

The fire illuminates Keigo and the soft smile he has melts your heart. Who knew that someone so cunning and snarky like himself could have such a sweet smile.

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha hawks #mha hawks #takami keigo #Takami Keigo x reader #hawks x reader #apocalypse au #bnharem collab

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thepaperpanda · 4 years ago

Text

~WHEN THE PARTICLE OF GOD PERMEATES YOU~ || Part I

Summary: Without the past you can't understand the present. You meet Higgs Monaghan on your way. Will he help you find out about your past or will he try to use you for his own purposes?

Warnings: Smut

Words: 6305

Authors: Cass & Rouge

A/N: This is little gift for our birthday girl! @porgsandtheirplace We hope you will like it!

It's cold outside. A fearfully cold wind blew from north, it quickly became unbearable. It indicated unstable weather. You felt it was about to rain.

With no memory of your former life, you walked along the muddy path, dressed only in a skintight suit and combat boots, with an old, leather jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

You heard something that sounded like thunder, so you ran forward as you spotted a mountain in the east; it didn't seem too far and you knew you had to make it there.

As soon as you entered the cave, the timefall started pouring down and another thunder rumbled loudly among the mountains.

Breathing shakily, you got further into the cave, only to sit on the stone floor and pulled knees under your chin, shivering all over your body. You let a sigh, noticing the steam of your breath forming in the cold air.

Higgs forced two members of the Homo Demens to go and find a lost package filled with explosives. Apparently, Fragile’s people were shitty enough to lose it in the middle of nowhere.

"You sure this is the place?" A voice from the depth of the cave asked.

"Higgs said so," another male voice snapped back.

"Well, we better find that shit or our asses will go as high as the fucking sky and I am not keen on it."

Two men emerged from the shadows of the cold corridor, they both stopped and looked at you.

"Well, well! And who do we have here?,” One asked and the other chuckled.

"A little, lost girl? Did you get wet outside?"

You quickly got back to your feet, a cold shiver ran along your spine and you trembled all over your body. "Leave me alone, I didn't do anything," you told them and took two steps back. "I'm just sheltering from the rain. Don't hurt me."

Men looked at each other and laughed loudly.

"Oh, don't hurt me!," One mocked and looked at this friend. "Shall we not hurt her?"

The other man walked up to you to take a good look at your features.

"I don't know. She is nice and young, we could have some fun with her or just throw her outside and watch her die. That would be fun, too," man hummed and grabbed you by your hair, pulling you closer to the entrance of the cave. "What do you say, sweetheart? Is it time for a shower?"

"No, no, no!," You begged and immediately sank to your knees. "Please, don't hurt me, I didn't do anything! Please! I'll do everything, just don't let me die!"

Your heart was beating strongly within your chest.

"You will do anything? Oh, really? That's good to know, little one. This is your lucky day then!," The guy said, pulling you further into the cave, away from the deadly rain. Another man immediately joined him.

"You see, little one, we haven't had a woman in some time. You could be useful, I wonder what ya hiding under these clothes," Other man said, easily opening your jacket.

"We will have some fun and we will kill you after."

"No, please don't...," You breath hitched and you turned your head aside when one of the men tried to kiss you. You tried to reach your backpack that was still attached to your back to pull your handy knife out.

Higgs appeared in the cave out of nowhere as always. He easily found the missing box and went to find the two men who worked for him. "The fuck you two are doing? Is it really so hard to find a damn thing?!," He roared at two men who immediately stepped away from you. Higgs frowned looking at the additional person. "Seriously? You are busy with a girl but not with the task you had to perform?," He growled, throwing the box at one of the men. "Take it to the camp, pronto."

When both men scrambled away in fear of their leader, Higgs offered you a brief grin. "Ah! They ran like cowards which they are but they are kinda useful. Who do we have here?," He asked, grabbing your chin to take a look at your face.

You held your breath back but let him grab your chick. "I didn't do anything, sir... I just sheltered from rain when they...," You went quiet. "Don't kill me... Don't kill me, please," you closed your eyes shut.

"I will break those fuckers’ necks for not letting me know they found you here, girl. Despite you aren't the bomb we looked for, they should have fucking let me know," Higgs growled checking your face. "You look healthy, pretty even. How about I give you a shelter, huh? What do you say for that?"

You swallowed hard and quickly nodded. "Would you be so kind to shelter me? But... How will I repay?," You asked hesitantly. "I don't have much. Everything is in my backpack," quickly pulling stripes of the backpack off you handled it to him.

Higgs took your backpack and shook it a little, it was really light what meant you didn't own a lot. He was getting more and more curious about what's your story, how a creature like you ended up in the middle of nowhere with nothing. "Nah, we will see what we can do about it, girl. Now, c'mon, you don't want to end up outside, right? Let's get you to a dry place," he shrugged, tossing the backpack to you.

You grabbed it and pressed to your chest, nodding. "Promise you won't hurt me," you asked with a shaking voice.

Higgs chuckled and bowed in front of you. "Crossin’ on my heart, if I have one," he shrugged and pulled you closer. In the blink of an eye, both of you were in some kind of a camp, in one of the tents. "Welcome to my camp. Make yourself at home, girl," Higgs almost sang, moving away from you. "This place will be safe for you as long as I say so."

You sank to your knees. You didn't know how in a blink of an eye you found yourself in another place, in a huge tent filled with maps, documents and other things. You gagged yourself, you almost vomited and your head spinned around. "How...?," You whispered, trying to cool down.

Higgs sighed and rolled his eyes, looking at your pathetic state. "You know, it would be fucking amazing if you would be kind enough to not fucking vomit all over my floor," he slowly pulled you up. "Breathe, girl, I didn't bring you here so you die on me."

You nodded, still pressing the backpack to your chest. "I'm sorry....I just... It made me dizzy. I'm sorry," you whispered and thanked him for helping you back on your feet.

He patted your cheek with a grin on his lips. "Atta girl, ya see? It's not that hard. You don't need to keep that so close," Higgs took the backpack from you, using just a little bit of force. He placed it next to the cot. "I need to go now. You can rest and try to not die here, just in case."

You gave him a nod. As soon as he vanished leaving a little cloud of dust, you took a closer look around the place you found yourself into.

The whole place was flooded with the light coming from a lamp hung from the ceiling. You walked closer to a board on which you found some handwritten notes about Bridges and Fragile companies. Only then you started realizing that you found yourself in a very wrong place, which triggered another shiver.

To warm yourself up, you rubbed your shoulders and palms. Indeed, you weren't exposed to the deadly rain so in that matter you felt slightly better but still you kept in mind what his comrades had wanted to do to you.

Not knowing what to do, you sat in the corner of the tent, once again pulling knees under your shaking chin. You peeked outside and sighed sadly noticing the rain was even stronger than before.

Higgs returned to you as soon as he was done with his other shady businesses. He didn't really expect to see you, half asleep, sitting in the corner with knees pulled to your chin. "You know, I work with many idiots but I hoped for you to be the smart one here, girl," Higgs said simply, taking a seat on the desk. "So, sweetheart. Not to be nosy and all that shit but why the fuck were you there? All alone? In such a place? And what's your name anyway?"

As he woke you up, you rubbed your eyes briefly. "I...," You whispered and got up. Rubbing your shoulder, you swallowed and nodded. "I don't remember how I got outside. I can't remember anything before the moment I woke up on the grass. And... My name's Y/N."

"Well, that's fucked up," Higgs summed up, laughing at the short story and answer, then he grabbed your backpack and simply opened it to dig through your belongings. Soon he pulled out the lace panties. "Oh, you are a noughty girl, aren't you? That's fucking cute," he said with a mocking laughter.

You observed him with wide opened eyes, huge blush crept into your cheeks as you watched him playing with your panties. "You shouldn't be touching them... It's my property...," You instructed him.

"Like I would fucking care what your property is. You are in my domain, sweetheart. I wonder how would you look in these," Higgs giggled and continued to dig in your backpack.

You turned your head aside and looked outside; it was still raining. "You're Higgs Monaghan, am I right? I heard some people talking about you."

"That's me, in flesh and bones," Higgs nodded, looking at your bra before stuffing it back inside the backpack. "And you are Y/N. Girl out of nowhere. Now I think what the fuck am I going to do with you. It's not like you are some kind of killing machine and I am not keen on keeping useless people around. At least you have a pretty face."

"T-thank you...," You whispered and walked to him to get your backpack. "I know how to hunt... At least I feel like this."

"So? I don't need a huntress. I don't really need you around at all, honestly." Higgs shrugged. "But you are a pretty face, it's fucking nice to have someone like you around but you can be sure you will get stuff to do to repay for my generosity."

You didn't know how many days had passed by but you had a feeling it was more than a week or two.

You still didn't get used to the fact you were stuck with those people, with more of them giving you nasty glances as soon as you were leaving the tent of Higgs. You were doing your best to ignore all kinds of taunts. Focusing on sketching all the things you saw around, you were spending all day in the nearest forest.

The whole group had mixed feelings about you.

Higgs brought you here, for no reason actually. You just wandered around, doing nothing when others worked their asses off in one way or another.

"Hey kitten! Maybe you would come here and be useful for once! You don't need to be only Higgs' cum sack!," Someone yelled and a few other people laughed loudly. It was normal for others to bother you on a daily basis.

You were passing them with your notebook and pencil in your hands. The last thing you'd wanted was to get in any kind of argument with these people but the comment drove you mad.

Stopping your steps you pushed your hip forward and placed your hand on it, looking directly at the man who dropped the comment. "Oh? Are you talking to me?," You asked the measuring dude with a cold glance from bottom to the top. "I'd even consider this but... Looking at the small bulge in your pants," you tapped your lip with a finger, "I'll pass."

"Well, she is not wrong!," Someone added and everyone laughed.

"Would you look at that! Our girl finally grew some fucking balls! Finally! Some more time and you will be almost as nasty as I am." Hands were placed on your shoulders, it was no one else but Higgs himself. He looked at everyone in front of you giving them a silent warning to simply return to their duties. "Don't mind those fucker, they have never seen a woman for that long before," the leader hummed, petting your hair like you would be his favorite.

You almost purred into his touch. All the rare moments where he was showing you his attention were making you happy and more confident. "I know I am rather useless," you told him as you moved forward, "But it was me who noticed the porter convoy a few days prior," you reminded him; you tried to manifest that in some moments you were being useful.

"Oh, you sure did, sugar. That’s my girl," he said, randomly resting his chin on the top of your head. Higgs stood with you like this until he realized you were holding a notebook. He quickly grabbed it to take a look. "And what do we have here, huh? Do we have an artist in the camp?"

When he placed his chin on top of your head, you blinked and giggled. As he took your notebook out of your palms, you desperately tried to get it back. "Don't look! It's mine!," You growled looking at his skilled fingers that were moving pages. When his eyes stopped at one point, you came up to the conclusion he found the drawing of him.

Higgs looked at drawing, trying to remember the moment you could even draw it.

"I am an ulgy bastard. I fucking love it! We have a fucking talent among us, I need to say," he tapped the page. "Flatters me."

You smiled lightly and ran with your glance to a group of other men who were staring at the situation.

"The fuck y’all are looking at? Jealous that I get the lady's attention? Get your asses to work," Higgs barked out at everyone. "I swear, you are the only decent person here," Higgs mumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

You glanced back at him; you hated the fact he was always wearing the hood on. Due to this, you weren't ever able to finish your drawing and deep inside you bet he was a handsome man.

You managed to slip the notebook out of his hands. "Hope to see you later," you smiled at him briefly and walked a few steps away. "I'm going to try to help your people around but I swear, none of them will try anything, I'll break their noses." After these words you walked off.

Higgs made a few big steps and after reaching you with ease, grabbed your arm tightly. He shook his head, clicking his tongue with a smile. "Nah, you aren't going anywhere now, sugar. I need to talk with you," Without even listening to any of your complaints Higgs simply forced you to go to his tent with him. He set you in the middle. "You think I am blind, girl?" Higgs almost growled, walking around you in circles.

As surprised and stressed you were, you shook your head in response. "What? I don't understand. I'm not doing anything. I'm not bothering. I'm grateful you let me stay around here, sheltering me," you said firmly, observing him circling around you.

"Oh yeah, yeah, you are grateful," Higgs said, placing hands on his back with a little shrug. He could see how much you tried to get his attention, in one way or another. It was honestly interesting in some way. "Just walking around, trying to do things, drawing me. Ya know, I made up my mind. Time to pay for being here has come."

Blinking in disbelief at his sudden outburst you turned to see him. "I don't understand what you are talking about," you told him with a shrug of your shoulders. "One word and I'll be gone, as soon as I appeared," you assured him while coming up with imagined ways he would want you to pay for his hospitality.

Higgs laughed loudly and stopped to look at you. "You? Gone? And where will you go? Girl with no past nor future, the one that begged me to help her. You want me to believe that you will endanger yourself by going right into BTs or timefall? Don't make me laugh, girl. So? I am waiting to hear your offer," he said, sitting down on the desk. Higgs was ready to see how much you were capable of doing to stay here with him, maybe after all you could be useful in some way. For him at least.

You put your notebook in a little locker and tapped your lips with fingers trying to come up with ideas he was thinking about. "I have no idea. Enlighten me, Higgs," you asked in the end and shivered as you heard timefall starting to pour down. "I don't know what you're expecting me to do," you added quickly. "All I can do is to not pack my ass in any unnecessary troubles which I find very useful for you and your men."

Higgs thought, scratching his bearded cheek. Oh, he got a fucking perfect idea. You could do it or get soaked outside. He gave you one of his wicked smiles and removed the hood from his head. "Undress if ya wanna stay here. We'll have some fun, sugar," Higgs explained, moving closer to you. "Unless you want to get to know BTs personally or get a bit wet and I do not mean down there," he glared at the place between your legs.

You listened to his offer and glared right into his eyes.

As he took the hood off, you came to the conclusion he indeed was a very handsome man. And that in other circumstances you would probably happily flirt with him or maybe even get into a fling.

You swallowed yet took a step forward to him. Climbing in tiptoes you wrapped arms around his neck and placed a kiss to his bearded cheek; you felt a sudden outburst of courage. "Your proposition is pretty interesting yet from these two options I am picking the timefall."

You looked him deeply in his blue eyes and then you turned to grab your backpack.

Higgs nodded. "Fine." He took the zipper of your suit and opened it up, pulling it off of your shoulder, revealing nothing more than a thin tank top. After grabbing you by the arm he started to drag you in an unknown direction. He forced you to walk with him until the two of you were almost outside the whole camp, under the last bit of the roof over your heads.

It started to rain heavily in a second.

"If you are so sure of your choice, go on. I will gladly watch,” Higgs growled, pushing your shoulder gently. "You obey or you die. It’s up to you.”

You were standing like paralyzed.

Few drops of timefall bounced back from the ground and fell on your leg still covered in a skintight suit, leaving greyish stains of where the material got older within the blink of an eye.

You swallowed. "I obey," you whispered, barely moving your lips. "I'll obey."

Higgs smiled. Of course, you would obey. Everyone obeys him so there could be no other outcome for you either. "You see? It wasn't that hard sugar, was it?," He purred right into your ear.

After this, he took you back to his tent. "So, what will you do now? Will you follow my fucking order?," He asked and crossed arms over his chest, waiting for you to do your thing. This all was getting interesting.

As you agreed to obey, you gave him a brief nod and very reluctantly stripped down to your underwear and tank top you were wearing. "Happy now?," You asked him, your brow raised.

He watched the show with a smirk playing on his lips. You were hella pretty, he had to give it to you. In a few quick steps, he approached you, wrapping arms around your waist "Oh, sugar, yes. Very fucking happy. You have no idea how," Higgs purred deeply before crushing his lips against yours in a messy, deep kiss, forcing his tongue past your lips without any permission.

He almost flipped over with you and you did your best to balance your bodies in a stable position. The kiss was too unexpected and messy and when he was kissing you, your eyes were widely opened as you were trying to process what was going on. "Wait, wait," you mumbled as you managed to finally cup his face in your palms. "Easy. Easy. Don't attack me like a starving dog," you instructed him.

Next thing you did was slip your hand into his hair and pull on them lightly, kissing his beautiful lips gently as you climbed on tiptoes.

"Atta girl," Higgs murmured against your lips before kissing you back.

Soon, he picked you up with one arm to move you on the cot. He didn't like it but it was still better than fucking you on the floor. Higgs pulled away right after placing you down, then moved to your neck, placing a few kisses there. After that, he moved down your body, tracing his way with the tip of his tongue.

"Let's see what you hide there, sugar," He hummed once he reached the hem of your tank top, without much of a talking he swiftly pulled it off of you.

You moved your upper body in an attempt to help him with your clothing. Higgs tossed your top aside and in the first second all you wanted to do was to cover your breasts by crossing arms over your chest but he stopped you.

You were too scared to let out a single word so you only watched his actions. His cot was pretty uncomfortable though. "What are you going to do?," You asked simply, your eyes fixed on his.

"Don't hide these beauties, sugar," he winked at you before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it and sucking it for a moment before turning his attention to the other one to give it the same treatment.

Higgs pulled away to look at you with a smile after a longer moment.

"What do you think? I will fuck this hopefully nice, sweet pussy hard," Higgs explained proudly and used his teeth to slowly remove your panties, pulling on them.

As much as you enjoyed his lips wrapped around your nipples and as many nice feelings it'd brought to you, you couldn't help but shivered hearing him saying the word "fuck". You slightly raised your hips to help him get rid of your panties. As you were looking down at him, you tapped his shoulder that was still wrapped around your waist. "Higgs? Uhm... I think there'll be a... I mean, well, there's a problem with that plan of yours."

Higgs growled annoyed and looked up. "What problem?" He observed you and saw a slight hint of fear and nerves in your eyes. Higgs quickly realized what did you mean, he chuckled lowly and shook his head in pure disbelief. "Oh sugar, my sweet little Y/N. Are ya still a virgin, am I right?"

Your eyes widened when he used that one particular word, the blush hit your face and you turned read so instead of answering, you moved slightly to reach for his coat that was laying on the floor. You picked it up and covered your face with the material, at the same inhaling Higgs' scent.

Yet after a moment you pulled the cape down your face so only your eyes were visible. "Yes. I haven't had... I mean, you know what I mean, holy Lord. You'd be the first one... I want to go home... I'm truly useless."

He raised the cape enough to put his head under it as well, bumping his nose into yours with a little smile. "You aren't useless, sugar. You are young, pretty, innocent. I hate to rip it off of you but it's time to learn a new thing and I will gladly help you with that. Will you let me?" Higgs was fucking surprised with this sudden wave of concern he felt when you confirmed what he thought.

You giggled when he bumped your nose. "I... I'm so scared...," You claimed openly. "I don't want to... I... What if I'll let you down... I don't want to disappoint you..."

The truth was you weren't keen on the idea of losing your virginity in such a place, in such a circumstance, but somehow you were pulled to Higgs. He was magnetising and you realized you lost your head for him the day he rescued you from his nasty men.

"I will take care of you, guide you and you never disappointed me, today you won't as well. Do you trust me?," He whispered his question.

You smiled a little bit too sadly. "Do I have other choices though?" You swallowed some moments later and nodded. "I trust you."

Higgs chuckled and kissed you deeply before moving down to settle between your legs, he grabbed your flesh and placed your legs on his shoulders. "I won't break that trust. Just relax," man instructed you before diving between your legs to wrap his mouth around your clit, sucking it gently.

Soon he pulled away to spit on your entrance and slowly pushed two of his fingers into you while his lips returned to your already swollen clitoris.

When his bearded face found its place between your legs, you let out a loud moan. Despite the fact it all was so wrong, it felt right as fuck.

A strange feeling started building within you, a kind of a knot in your abdomen. You let him do whatever he wanted until his slender fingers slipped into your pussy. You gasped and in the first attempt you tried to roll your hips backward to get away from.the touch but he held you in place. It took you a moment to relax and enjoy his actions one again while humming like a little kitten, your eyes fixed on him.

Higgs locked eyes with yours, eating you out. He closed his eyes with a satisfied hum while his fingers were moving in and out of you. After a long moment, he pulled away. "As much as I love the sweetness of your pussy already, I won't let you cum just yet." He chuckled at your expression which was a mix of newly-found pleasure and fear. "No need to be scared," humming, he started to undress, revealing his body and more tattoos. "Hope you like what you see."

You observed him carefully, your heart was pounding in your chest like an animal locked in a cage.

In a courage outburst, you shifted in your place and knelt in front of him, wrapping arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

Despite the fact you knew your behavior was pretty odd and you probably would be taken as a whore, you didn't care.

Higgs kissed you back, loving the fact you got so eager all of the sudden. "That's the spirit, sugar. You are such a good girl, my favorite,” he whispered against your lips, gently placing you back in the previous position on the cot to take place between your legs. "You are fucking beautiful," he muttered looking at your naked form. "I am not so bad myself, what do you think?"

You rested your body on elbows and gave him a smug smirk. "Seems you're pretty decent. But, of course, you look scary. But I find you a very handsome man."

"Of course I look fucking scary. I am the scariest motherfucker around. You flatter me with your words. Now we will take care of that tight hole of yours, you gonna love it," Higgs growled, pushing his hips against yours to let you feel him.

"O-oooohhh," you let out a moan yet instantly bit your lower lip. "But... Maybe, maybe let's just pass?," You suggested looking down his body at his already erected member. You pressed your thighs together, closing the way to your pussy. "I'm not sure..."

"Oh, sugar. No need to fear me, I won't hurt you that hard and I can assure you that you'll fucking love it and beg me for more," he assured spreading your legs and wrapping them around his waist.

You licked your lips and smiled at him as he wrapped your legs around his hips. You looked him in the eyes. "Can I get a kiss?," You mumbled quietly, trying to do your best to distract him from the main thing. "Promise me it won't hurt. Promise?"

"It will hurt, it's natural but I got you," Higgs promised and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you as close as it was possible. He positioned himself at your entrance and started to push in, pulling you into another deep, messy kiss only to distract you from the pain and discomfort. Halfway in, he pulled away from the kiss and growled deeply. "Fuck, you are fucking tighter than I expected. I fucking love it, Y/N. You are fucking amazing!"

The pain was sharp and burning, you felt like your guts would be tearing apart. You realized that you stopped breathing with your eyes fixed on his face; when he stopped kissing you and growled, you let out a loud cry mixed with a moan. But shortly after, when he pushed his entire length in, you screamed loudly and tried to muffle your voice by gently biting his arm. "It hurts...," You mumbled. "It hurts. I can't."

"Sure you can. You are my brave girl and you are doing just fine," Higgs praised you, gently rubbing your belly. "Relax and it will be much better. I promise."

You nuzzled to his bare chest, your eyes closed shut as he started pounding harder in you. You dared to look down your body and gasped when you noticed how Higgs' cock was moving in you, a visible bulge was forming in your abdomen.

Soon, you rolled your head back putting it into his cot and clenching his coat with your free hand.

Higgs grabbed your hips and pounded in you even harder, setting the fast and brutal pace since you relaxed around his shaft.

"Just look how nicely it goes in and out. You take it so well, Y/N. I am so fucking proud now. More than I’ve ever been. Be a good girl and cum," he ordered as his hand found your clit to rub it harshly.

"Oh-ohh!," You moaned and parted lips, enjoying the way he was kissing your neck and collarbone. You felt how huge he grew inside of you. "Can I... Would you... Can we try something else before I cum?," You whispered, kissing his arm.

Higgs growled annoyed and looked at you. "What is it?," He asked with a frown, his hips didn't stop moving.

You wrapped arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing his cheek and neck, until you reached his ear. "Harder," you whispered directly into Higgs' ear.

Higgs laughed and placed both arms on the opposite sides of your head, bracing himself to start pounding at you without holding back as he did previously. "As you wish," Monaghan purred happily before fulfilling your wish by fucking you hardly. The cot was squeaking under your weights.

You rolled your head back, grasping one of his forearms to support yourself. The pain vanished almost completely, the only feeling overwhelming you was a pure pleasure and desire. You improved your legs on his hips and were moaning for him. As you barely could take him, a single tear streamed down your cheek, but it wasn't a tear of sadness. "I... Oh-oh!," You mumbled as he throbbed inside of you. "I think I'm cuming," you grunted and at the same moment your legs started shaking. Your walls clenched tightly around his cock still buried in you and you screamed his name.

Higgs smiled and laughed softly, seeing you falling apart under him, it simply was more satisfying than he expected "Atta girl, you see? You made this, I bet the whole camp heard your screaming my name," he purred, licking the trail up your neck. He let out a loud groan as well as he was near his own peak. Higgs parted lips and his hips got all sloppy. After a few more thrusts he pulled out to cum all over your belly.. Trying to catch his breath, he smirked wryly at you. "Fuck, I am fucking exhausted. What have ya done to me, doll?"

When Higgs pulled out of you, you gasped sadly for the loss of contact. Blushing hard as he simply cum on your naked body, you ran hand through your messy hair and sighed. Tip of your tongue ran along your upper lip as you watched him taking place by your side on the cot.

You rolled quickly on your side and placed your head to his chest. You didn't care whether he'd push you away; all you'd wanted was him to hold you close just even for a moment.

He patted your hair and sighed. "You know? I still wonder how the fuck did you end up in that cave. It's so mindfucking that I cannot find a rational answer," Higgs said randomly as he rubbed his chin.

You hugged him seeking any kind of comforting. "I don't remember how I got there, I told you," you reminded him.

Listening to his heartbeat was reassuring.

He nodded. "I remember. That's why it bothers me that much. After all, who would throw such a nice girl with such a sweet pussy out though?," Higgs teased you, hugging you back. For some reason, it felt so fucking good to just hold you within his arms and keep you close. The simple fact you were near him and that you obviously were claimed as his made him happy.

"Whoever did was probably a bad person though," you claimed and dared to trail your fingertips up and down his abdomen, along his happy trail. "Or maybe I did something to be left outside? Who knows. I think we won't find the truth."

His warmth was a blessing and you wished this moment would last forever.

"What's going to be with me now?," You asked him while moving your head up to have a peek into his beautiful, blue eyes. "You've gotten what you'd wanted so you can send me away now. I am not needed anymore."

Higgs thought, looking blankly at the ceiling. Technically, you were right; you didn't have any important position among the camp. You just were. He could kick you out and be done with it all but Higgs didn't want to do this. He just wanted your presence, it all would feel wrong without you around.

Higgs reached over and grabbed his cape you used to cover your face. He wrapped you in it as much as he only could than he hugged you really tightly, pulling you close to his chest. "No, you stay here. By my side. Till the fucking end," Higgs said nuzzling to your hair. This was what he wanted; just to be with you. Somehow he came up to one obvious conclusion - he was falling in fucking love. Was it even possible?

You raised your upper body part to have a good look on his face. "You mean it? I stay here? You won't send me away?," You questioned and as he gave you a slight nod, you hugged him. "Thank you! I promise I won't let you down. I promise I'll be behaving. I promise I'll be useful," after assuring him you placed a tender kiss to his beautifully carved lips.

Higgs kissed you back with a hum. "Just stay by my side and this will be the best work for you."

You smiled a little. "Say it."

He looked down at you with a frown. ‘’Say what?"

"That you're attracted to me," you smirked wryly at him. "And that is the reason you want me around."

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yes, I am so fucking attracted to you that I want to keep your around so I can fuck that tight, little hole of yours whenever I want," Higgs claimed proudly.

You kissed his lips briefly before getting up from the cot. "Thank you for confirming the fact I knew since the moment you offered me sex or dying in a timefall," you smiled at him as you were getting dressed. "And well, we'll see whether I'll let you fuck me one more time or not," you winked at him.

Higgs laughed loudly and nodded, stretching on the cot freely, not caring that he was naked. "You'll fucking beg for this, sugar. I still need to teach you a lot about sex."

You fixed your hair and took a look at his naked body. "You're hot, you know this but your mouth is so filthy, I love that," you winked at him. Slowly zipping your suit, you gave him the last glare. "Better get dressed. It's cold and your cock seems to hate it."

#higgs monaghan #higgs monaghan smut #higgs monaghan x reader #higgs monaghan x reader smut #higgs monaghan fic #death stranding #death stranding smut #higgs monaghan fiction #death stranding fic #homo demens #reader insert #writers on tumblr #man in the golden mask #the particle of god that permeates all existence

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queenof-literature · 4 years ago

Text

Hyrule

Hi all! Time for the Hero of Wild series update! I hope you enjoy!

I also remembered I haven’t been updating my Masterlist. Whoopsie. Sorry about that. it’s updated now.

Wild was getting restless, Hyrule could tell. Wild had been with them for about a week now, and Hyrule could see it was starting to get to him. He knew the look, because he was the exact same way. Based on what little Wild told them about himself, Hyrule knew they were similar. Both travelers and wanderers, both far more comfortable away from cities, both loving to explore the world around them.

Not to say the other Links didn’t love exploring, Four and Wind would accompany him during dinner sometimes. Wild and Hyrule however always seemed to disappear by the time Twilight and and Warriors would turn around. It started with Hyrule when he first joined the Links, it was difficult to simply stay on the trail. Sometimes he would wander off without really realizing it. In one moment he would be looking at the local plant life that was absent in his own Hyrule. In the next moment he would be getting dragged by the scruff of his tunic by Legend. And Wild was the same way.

Obviously they couldn’t drag him back by the scruff of his neck, Wild didn’t let anyone touch him in any way. But Hyrule and Wild always ended up wandering off, and Hyrule truly wanted to get closer to his fellow explorer, but he didn’t know how.

Exploring seemed to be a common interest, but how did he ask the other to explore with him? Did he just… ask? He didn’t really know how to ‘properly’ interact with people. His Hyrule wasn’t exactly where someone would want to go for a vacation. He loved parts of it but it was lonely. Legend had found him deep in these thoughts a couple of weeks in, before Wild had joined.

“Am I a bad person?” Hyrule had asked quietly when he heard his fellow Link approach. He always knew who it was based on their footsteps.

“Why would you say that?” Legend had responded.

“What if I don’t miss my Hyrule as much as I should?”

“You’re not a bad person for not liking certain aspects of your Hyrule kid.”

“But… what if I don’t want to go back when the time comes? Not that I hate my Hyrule, but you guys are nice. I’m just… tired.”

“If Hylia thinks she’s tearing us apart after sending us on this hellish cucco chase she has another thing coming.” Legend had finalized. And Hyrule knew he meant it.

Hyrule glanced up at the sound of footsteps, stifling the urge to laugh as Twilight led a disgruntled Wild back to the traveling party. His humor disappeared when he saw the look on Wild’s face. It was restlessness, the desperate need to get away. Not in a way of anger, but exhaustion. The absolute bone tired feeling of being around too many people for far too long. Hyrule felt that many times, and would usually wander off when it got too bad, pleading with Legend to not bring up his absence.

It wasn’t Twilight’s fault, he didn’t know. Besides, this was a Hyrule no one knew, it wasn’t the best idea for Wild and Hyrule to be wandering around while the others were moving. Perhaps once they made camp Hyrule could work up the courage to actually talk to the boy.

Wild missed his Hyrule, and he missed traveling alone. Wild didn’t exactly have a home like the others apparently did, but he still missed his Hyrule. Sure he had a house in Hateno that he loved, and he was extremely grateful for when he needed a free place to sleep, but it wasn’t always home. The wilds were his home. The woods with secret birds nests, the oceans with rocky coats to jump from rock to rock, the different domains with different obstacles and different beauties. That was his home. He loved Hateno, but he felt out of place among the residents. He never felt out of place in nature. But he certainly felt out of place here.

The other Links were nice and welcoming, but Wild never missed the long glances towards his scars, or the annoyed huffs when he came back from exploring off the path. But another boy, Hyrule, he explored too. Legend would always drag him back with a fond smirk and the rest of the group let him be. Was it because Wild was new that they seemed to walk on eggshells around him? Maybe. That didn’t change the fact he missed traveling alone. The thought made him feel slightly guilty, everyone had been doing their best to include him into their group. But still Wild just felt like a piece that didn’t fit.

He also felt guilty Zelda didn’t know. They rarely traveled together, Zelda was happy to work in labs for now while she grew accustomed to their new Hyrule a century later. But he missed exploring with her too. He liked seeing her happy, and his few memories proved she liked walking along beaten paths and open fields as well. He wanted more time to do that, but based on what Time had said, he would be on this quest for the foreseeable future.

Oh well. He would deal with it. He had been in worse situations before. At least this time he remembered who he was when in a strange world. Still, something in him ached to be away from all of this, to simply shield surf down a mountain, or tame a wild stag, or create a giant fire and fly where no one could reach him. He doubted the others would appreciate that though.

Hyrule seemed to have a similar mindset. He wished he could talk to the boy, but he didn’t seem interested. Wild was already new, he didn’t want to upset or annoy anyone with his lack of speech. He was painfully aware how exhausting it was to communicate with him, especially when the people trying to talk to him had to put up with his language that was completely different from theirs thanks to the different timelines. And yet they made name signs for him. They asked his opinions on things. They asked him how to sign things to better understand him. Four gave him a journal to help him share his thoughts. They were all so kind and Wild was so, so confused.

Hyrule needed to work up the courage to talk to Wild. Soon. After almost a week of traveling with a group, Wild seemed to be really stressed. He was pacing around near Epona, trying to find something to unpack around camp to distract himself. He appeared to be moving his lips, having a silent conversation with himself, his hands ringing and reaching up to scratch lightly at his neck. Hyrule had noticed Wild had a multitude of nervous habits, some of them similar to his own. Epona also seemed to be worried, if her quiet huffing and nosing at Wild’s hair was anything to go by. Hyrule worried that if he didn’t approach Wild first, Wild might run off on his own before the day was over. There wouldn’t be a better time anyway. The older boys were washing tunics and the younger ones were swimming in a nearby creek. Hyrule gulped down his nerves and got up.

He slowly approached Wild, popping his fingers absentmindedly. Wild glanced up at him, eyes filled with suspicion and curiosity.

“Hey Wild. Do you want to go exploring? You seem like you like to and I like to and it's been a while since I’ve gotten away and being around people for too long kinda makes me nervous and it seems like it does you too. Erm, I mean I obviously don’t know that for sure but we could leave a note and get away for awhile and go explore?” Hyrule rushed out and mentally face palmed at his own rambling. Good job Hyrule. Glancing up at Wild, the boy seemed slightly shocked, but thankfully didn’t look offended. Wild took out his journal and quickly scratched out a response.

‘Sure. You’re right. I’m used to traveling alone.’ Scrawled out in neat, small letters.

“Alright!” Hyrule smiled happily, which Wild hesitantly returned. “Would you mind if we used your journal to write a note? I don’t have anything to write on.” Hyrule asked. Wild looked sad for a moment at tearing out a page from his gift, but figured the sooner they left the better while the others were distracted. He carefully tore a page from the back and wrote out a quick note as Hyrule watched, adding in when he saw fit.

‘Went exploring, we’ll be fine. Need a break. We won’t go far.

~Wild and Hyrule’

After adding a large smiley face he knew would piss off Legend, Hyrule led Wild away from the camp, being sure to leave the note in an obvious place. They decided to go the opposite way of the river to avoid any stray Links. The trees around them were a bit taller than Hyrule remembers Wild’s trees being, the sun peeking through the canopy above. A few flowers bloomed sparingly in the grass, Wild stopping to take pictures with his slate. Already Wild looked more relaxed, and Hyrule felt himself decompressing as well.

Before they could stray far from camp however, they ran into the smallest Link.

“What are you two doing?” Four asked, eyebrow raised, green eyes shining in the peeking sunlight.

“We could ask you the same question.” Hyrule spoke for both of them, copying Four’s expression.

“Very smooth Hyrule. Amazing distraction.” Four fired back, seeming far more amused than angry.

“Please just pretend you didn’t see us. We both need a break we’ll be careful and we left a note.” Hyrule pleaded. Four had to admit, the pleading expression on both Hyrule and Wild’s faces were hard to deny. Not that he was planning to anyways, but he was definitely going to give them shit for it.

“Fine.” Four sighed out dramatically. “But do me a favor and try to stick in the area. Maybe Northwest as much as you can. Just so we know where to look when you to inevitably find trouble.” Four teased.

“We’ll do our best!” Hyrule promised happily, rushing forward.

‘Thank you!’ Wild signed quickly, rushing forward to catch up to Hyule. Four chuckled lightly. He could already tell those two would be the definition of chaos.

“Sooo. What do you do for fun in your Hyrule?” Hyrule asked, slightly desperate for conversation. Normally he would be content to sit in comfortable silence, but he wanted to get to know this new Link with no one else around, and who knew when he would next get the chance? Hopefully Wild didn’t hate him too much for trying to break the silence. Wild contemplated for a moment.

‘Cliff jump.’ Hyrule snorted.

“A little hard to do that here.” Hyrule laughed.

‘Shield surf.’ Wild signed, fingerspelling it slowly when Hyrule made a confused hum.

“Shield surf? What’s that?” Hyrule knew by Wild’s betrayed expression that he would learn soon.

“Where’s Wild?” Twilight asked soon after the boys returned.

“And Hyrule?” Wind questioned.

“Hyrule probably ran off again. Did Wild as well?” Sky asked the group. Just then, Warriors noticed a page of Wild’s journal resting on top of a tree stump. Warriors quickly approached the page, slightly concerned it would end up being a ransom note. Picking up the note and reading the short writing, Warriors had to stifle a laugh.

“What is it?” Time asked.

“Went exploring, we’ll be fine. Need a break. We won’t go far.” Warriors read out loud,

turning the page around to show the large smiley face and the two bokoblins who signed it.

“That little shit.” Legend growled, looking at the taunting smiley face drawn on the note.

“Those little shits.” Twilight corrected. He had yet to talk to Time about his friendship with Wild. Was it a friendship? Twilight still needed to ask if this is how a mentor felt. He felt towards Wild like he did towards the kids in Ordon, but this was a little different in ways Twilight couldn’t explain, but wasn’t really mad at.

“You’re right, Twilight. I’ll kill ‘em both.”

“So, I just stand on this and ‘surf’ down the hill?” Hyrule questioned, slightly nervous about his certain tumble down the steep hill they managed to find. Wild nodded, eyes brighter than Hyrule had seen them in days.

‘Do you want me to go first?’ Wild signed.

“Yes please. I guess I just don’t understand how to do it.” Hyrule rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. Wild just smiled gently, and summoned a shield out of his slate, jumping on the back of it. Hyrule watched in fascination as Wild gracefully sped down the hill they had chosen, weaving around small obstacles. It only made Hyrule more nervous. Not for the surfing itself, no, that looked fun! He just didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of their newest member. Wild was up the hill in no time. The hill was steep, but not long and steep enough to make it hard to get back up. According to Wild, it was almost perfect. Hyrule wanted to know what Wild’s definition of ‘perfect’ was.

‘Ready’ Wild signed with a large smile and carefree eyes. If Hyrule wasn’t going to surf before, he would have to now that he looked at Wild’s bright face.

“Yeah, but don’t make fun of me when I eat grass and dirt for lunch.” Wild laughed silently, shoulders shaking. If Hyrule listened close enough, he could hear soft puffs of air escaping from the teen.

‘You should have seen me when I first tried it, Hyrule’ Wild signed. Recently he had been trying to incorporate the other’s name signs more into his sentences, trying to get used to the signs they had given each other. Hyrule was quite fond of his sign, he loved the combination of wanderer and magic.

“Yeah I’m sure that was interesting for everyone else to watch.” Hyrule snorted, laughing at Wild’s playful glare. This was nice.

‘I’m ready, Wild.’ Hyrule signed to the best of his ability, trying to brush off Wild’s awe stricken face at the fact Hyrule had signed a simple statement in his language. Hyrule couldn’t sign much, but the look on Wild’s face was worth potentially embarrassing himself.

‘Try to keep up.’ Wild signed, summoning another shield out of his slate for Hyrule to use. It was absolutely gorgeous. Gray metal with raised gold, creating the symbol of Hyrule with decorative accents surrounding it.

“Erm, isn’t this a little too nice to use for shield surfing?” Hyrule questioned, not wanting to ruin a perfectly beautiful shield. By the look on Wild’s face, Hyrule knew that was a silly question. For all he knew, Wild could have ten more in that slate of his.

“Okay so I just get on the back and try to balance as I ride down?” Hyrule clarified, not admitting to himself he was stalling. Wild nodded.

‘Maybe you could sit. Never tried it.’ Wild signed, fingerspelling words Hyrule couldn’t understand or couldn’t remember.

“Nah I’ll stand. Together?” Hyrule confirmed, placing the shield on the ground before him, knowing the other boy was about to leave him in his dust. Wild was talented enough to not need to put the shield down before him, Hyrule had seen him flip onto it like it was second nature. Hyrule would need a bit more of a base. Wild nodded brightly, waiting for Hyrule to start in case the other needed help. The boy got on top of the shield, wobbling a bit at first before balancing out. Wild felt slightly guilty he couldn’t force himself to balance the other boy out, that would require contact and he couldn’t make himself do that, no matter how nice Hyrule seemed.

When he found enough balance, Hyrule kicked off gently with one foot, not expecting how fast he would be going right as he did it. Hyrule let out a small yelp as he slid down the hill, arms flailing out in a desperate attempt to keep balance. Hyrule glanced over and saw Wild staying beside him, even though this was definitely much slower than he was used to. Pushing down the panic and desperation to stay balanced on the grassy hill, Hyrule let out a laugh. It really was fun! Hyrule could see why Wild liked it so much. Except he should have been paying more attention.

In the blink of an eye, Hyrule’s shield launched out from under him, flinging itself into Wild’s legs. All Hyrule heard was a raspy sound coming from the other boy sounding like a yelp before both of them tumbled down the hill, rolling uncontrollably all the way to the bottom. Hyrule could feel scraps and bruises forming on the way down. Certainly not enough to maim or kill him, but enough that it stung and Legend would make him drink some potion later. Hyrule finally stopped rolling, taking mental count of how many injuries he had. No broken bones, no concussions, nothing serious. He sighed in relief, before he remembered his fellow escapee.

“Wild I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I hit your legs hard?” Hyrule asked frantically, rushing over to where Wild landed. The other boy was flat on his back, and had probably gotten the air knocked out of him. Oh Hylia, nice job Hyrule! Now Wild would hate you forever! Hyrule got his healing magic ready as he approached Wild, ready to jump into action. Only stopping when he saw Wild… laughing?

Hyrule looked on in shock as Wild was laughing. Not completely silent this time either! It took him being close, but Hyrule could hear some soft and raspy giggles coming from Wild’s throat. That one threw Hyrule for a loop. The others had suspected that Wild could perhaps physically talk, but the scars on his neck left that question unanswered. No one knew why he couldn’t talk. If it was physical, mental, or emotional. Not that it really mattered, Wild was Wild. But still, Hyrule was happy he actually heard the boy laughing, if extremely softly.

“Wild? Are you okay? I’m sorry I promise I didn’t mean to.” Hyrule knelt down next to Wild, but kept a few feet of distance. The last thing he wanted to do right now is freak him out. That’s also why he refused to bring up Wild’s laughter, desperately hoping he wouldn’t grow embarrassed and shut down again.

‘Nice landing.’ Wild signed up, eyes bright and carefree.

“Pfft. You too.” Hyrule laughed, almost offering Wild a hand to help him up. It seemed polite to offer, but he decided to stay still until Wild got up himself.

‘Again?’ Wild asked, face the definition of excitement and mischief.

“Obviously.”

The entire afternoon was spent with two boys surfing down a hill, bumping shields and laughing like little kids all the way down. Hyrule was slightly worried that bumping shields, and occasionally shoulders, would bother Wild. But it didn’t seem to affect him too much, it must have been different in a more adrenaline induced setting.

The two of them surfed until the sun began to set. Challenging each other to odd ways of riding down once Hyrule was better. At one point, this led to Wild attempting to make it the whole way down on his shield in a handstand. He didn’t make it very far.

Another challenge led to them racing down the hill once Hyrule was more confident in his skill. Hyrule still ended up tumbling down the last quarter of the hill. Wild claimed foul but Hyrule claimed they never said how they needed to make it down.

By the time the sun began its descent, Wild and Hyrule were absolute messes. Twigs, grass, and leaves were tangled in their hair. Grass stains and dirt covered their clothes, along with blood from the countless cuts and scrapes they had collected along the way. And large smiles adorned their scraped and slightly bleeding faces.

“A couple more times and then we’ll go back?” Hyrule asked, looking at the distant sun. “I think the group is so spoiled by your cooking we’d have a hard time without it.” Hyrule teased, chuckling at Wild’s embarrassed face.

‘A couple more times. Try the spin’ Wild confirmed. Hyrule was getting better at jumping onto the shield, not being able to flip like Wild, but progress was progress. Wild could even jump and spin while he was surfing! He told Hyrule how to do it, and showed him a few times. Wild told him it was easier if he used the momentum from a small bump in the hill to get enough speed to rotate.

“Okay I’ll try!” Hyrule beamed. Wild and Hyrule could go at the same time now, Wild not needing to give Hyrule a head start as the evening progressed. “One. Two. Three!” Hyrule called out, jumping on the back of his shield. He balanced out and leaned forward as Wild taught him, keeping an eye on the quickly approaching small hill he planned to launch off of. Hyrule bent his legs a little more, then twisted his hips quickly as soon as he hit the hill. He bent his elbows to the side, making sure to keep his back as straight as he could. He managed to make a full rotation! Before landing and having the shield slip out from under him. Hyrule rolled the rest of the way, but his successful spin made it hard for him to care. When he got to the bottom, his eyes were closed, doing another mental check to see if he had any broken bones. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a very unamused pair of bright blue eyes belonging to a certain wolf.

“Uh oh.” Hyrule glanced over at Wild, who also looked like a deer in the torchlight. Wild signed something that Hyrule assumed the wolf couldn’t understand. He was intelligent, but Hyrule doubted the animal could understand sign .

“He says we left a note.” Hyrule translated.

They must have been quite the sight. Two bruised and cut Hylians covered in grass pouting as they followed a hulking wolf. They would have escaped the wolf’s fury, but he absolutely would not let them out of his sight. If one of the two got an inch too far, the wolf grumbled in his throat and glared. A wolf glared at them. Wild at least, knew the wolf was not just an animal. But that only meant he would be the one to get lectured by an angry Twilight later tonight. Wild and Hyrule were pouting, but they still snickered whenever they thought about today. It had been fun. Really fun. Wild didn’t feel overwhelmed anymore, he felt more content.

“Here we go.” Hyrule muttered, seeing a small fire in the distance. Wild glared down at Wolfie when he noticed the smug look in his eye. The wolf couldn’t wait to see them get scolded. Wild would get revenge later.

“Where have you two idiots been?” Legend yelled as they got closer.

“What in Hylia’s name happened?” Sky asked, rushing over to check their cuts with Warriors, keeping their distance with Wild.

“Wild taught me how to surf on a shield!” Hyrule told them the story happily, brushing off Sky’s and Warriors’ fussing.

“Awesome! Wild teach me next!” Wind ran up to stand next to Hyrule. The two could see Four hanging back, being suspiciously quiet. Hopefully if they didn’t throw him to the wolves for knowing, he would cover for them later on as well.

‘Where’s Twilight?’ Wild signed innocently, resisting the urge to smirk down at the wolf beside him.

“He’s scouting the area for monsters.” Time lied easily. “Wolfie, go get him please?” Wolfie glared one last time at a smug Wild, before running off to ‘find Twilight’.

“Now.” Time began, and Hyrule and Wild glanced at each other, silently communicating that they were indeed fucked. “What were you two thinking running off like that?” Time asked. He didn’t really sound mad, he sounded more curious. He knew those two wouldn’t purposefully cause issues, especially with how shy they tended to be. Hyrule and Wild glanced at each other before Hyrule spoke up.

“We just needed a break. We left a note so that you guys knew we were okay, but we both just needed time to unwind in the woods.” Hyrule explained sheepishly. Wild nodded along, keeping his head down. He really hoped Hyrule didn’t get in trouble. Even after all the work they put into learning his sign, Wild thought the group would ditch him in a random Hyrule any minute. He didn’t want to see his new friend get in trouble because of something they both did. If he needed to Wild would take the blame. Better just he get in trouble than both of them.

Time sighed, looking at their guilty expressions. He should have expected this, both of these boys spent most of their lives completely alone. Time thought back to his adventures. He loved exploring Hyrule on the back of Epona. Could he really fault these boys for exploring away from a group? Hyrule was getting better with being in a group, but he still struggled. And Wild has only been in their group for a week, he certainly wasn’t used to traveling with others if his fear of touches were anything to go by. Most of the boys said he ‘didn’t like’ being touched to soften the words and not offend the new Link but they all knew the truth. Something had given Wild a deep rooted fear of even being around Hylians. How could they expect him and Hyrule to be happy when constantly surrounded by others. Time was just glad they had found solace with each other.

“I understand.” The two teens perked up at that, surprised. They barely noticed Twilight coming from beyond the surrounding trees. “I know exploring away from the path is fun, but Hyrules we don’t know are dangerous. I know I’m not gonna be able to stop you from doing it, but be careful. And come back with less scrapes and bruises next time.” Time teased, not missing the way they both relaxed, Wild especially. Hopefully the boy’s wariness would ease as the journey continued.

“That’s it? They ran away!” Twilight complained, but the others could tell it was mostly in good fun. Wild however could tell the man was trying to get back at him once again.

“You’re right. Wild make dinner. Hyrule, fill the water jugs. There. Karma complete.” Time smirked at Twilight exasperated look towards Wild, knowing full well he would need to chase after him in the next few days. Good, hopefully Twilight will learn how Time feels.

That night was spent the way many of their peaceful nights did, casual chatter and plans for tomorrow. Wild participated a little more this time, which the group was all grateful for. Legend grumbled and made them booth drink a little potion, no matter how much Wild refused. The rest of the night was spent with the group milling around or all grouped around the campfire. Four however, were beckoned over by Hyrule to have a private conversation.

“What’s wrong?” Four asked, looking at Hyrule’s troubled face.

“Thanks for covering for us. We needed that.” Hyrule thanked before he moved on. “I’m worried about Wild.” Hyrule bit his lip now that his thoughts were out in the open.

“Why?” Four’s eyebrows furrowed. “He looks better than he has in a while and you two seemed to have fun.”

“We did have fun, but Four he laughed. Like with his voice.” Hyrule glanced over to make sure the boy in question was still making dinner. “It was quiet but I heard it. I think he can talk, Four. I mean I think he could maybe physically talk if he practiced. But I think he’s embarrassed? Or scared? He doesn’t have to talk if he doesn’t want to and I don’t want him to feel forced, but what if he wants to talk and he’s scared?” Hyrule finished. Out of the many things Four had been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“I think… that that’s a very real possibility.” Four started, there was no reason to lie. “But you’re right, he might just not want to, or it could be mental. Or a combination. The truth is we don’t know. I’d say for now let’s worry about things we can control and feel out the situation with Wild.” Four reached up and patted Hyrule’s shoulder. Like all the Links, Hyrule put too much responsibility on himself.

“Okay Four. Thank you… that helps.” Hyrule smiled, looking much better.

“No problem buddy.”

That night Wild slept a tad bit closer to the group than he had been. It wasn’t much, but it was progress they were all silently grateful to Hyrule for. Time was on second watch, but Twilight had stayed up to talk to him.

‘Pup, did Wild talk to you that night he woke up with Wolfie?’ Time had overheard a small portion of Four and Hyrule’s conversation. He had been coming back from the stream and didn’t stay long, not wanting to eavesdrop, but he heard enough to connect the dots of what Twilight had been avoiding talking about the past few days.

‘He tried.’ Twilight signed back in their shared sign. It hadn't changed too much from Time’s Hyrule to Twilight’s Hyrule, and they didn’t want Wild to overhear their conversation.

‘He tried?’ Time questioned silently.

‘It was rough, Time.’ Twilight signed, glancing back at the boy curled up in his thin bedroll.

“We’ll figure it out.” Time whispered, placing a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. Wild was one of them now.

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sukigirl17 · 4 years ago

Text

The Ladder of Love -SukixSokka Oneshot

Word Count: 4,379

"Can you count to six thousand?"

The question caught Sokka totally off guard one night while playing a game of Pai Sho with her. He gave Suki a puzzled look, and thought maybe this was a tactic she was using to make him lose his focus.

"What?"

"Six thousand," She repeated without looking up from the table. "Can you count that high?"

He didn't know how to respond at first. "Umm....yeah...."

All the sudden her face lit up and she smiled at him, seemingly forgetting that it was her turn. She then began talking wildly about a mountain on the other side of Kyoshi Island, where he had come to visit her for a few weeks, but that's when Sokka started to tune himself out. She started talking so fast and so excitedly that he had close to no idea what she was saying.

All he could make out were the words stairs, old couple, six thousand, and tomorrow. He slowly started putting the words together in an effort to understand just what it was his girlfriend was talking about. According to Suki, there was an old couple who lived on top of the mountain.

However, in order to get up the mountain, there were stairs.

Six thousand of them.

And they were going tomorrow.

After he had finally comprehended what she had said, Suki didn't even give him a second to protest. Instead, she immediately hurried him off to bed, stating that he'll need lots of rest to climb the mountain tomorrow morning. Reluctantly, he decided to let his girlfriend do as she pleased, and he followed her instructions by going to bed earlier than he would've preferred. It's only a little hiking, he reasoned with himself as his head hit the pillow.

How hard could it be?

...

"Want me to tell you a story while we climb?"

"Oh no. Let my gasps for oxygen just fill your ears and appease you, my cherry blossom." Sokka rolled his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, sweat beading down his forehead.

The sound of her laugh only made him wheeze harder. Suki had woken him up at the break of dawn and dragged him out across the entire island while he was half asleep. And just as he was finally awake, she showed him the mountain.

When she told him that they were going to climb that mountain, he expected a hike that only lasted a few hours, and the stairs were just part of her favorite trail, but of course the universe wouldn't make his life that easy.

There were actual stone stairs embedded into the mountainside, and they went all the way to the top. But that was the least of Sokka's problems. The fact that he had to climb them all made him want to pass out.

And the counting drove him insane. Every step she made, she counted aloud what number of stairs that had been.

"I'll take that as a yes." She said, satisfied, still looking to the horizon as she hiked up the steps confidently. "This is the story of a couple named Xu and Liu..."

And yet she still counted.

Every few minutes or so, she would update him on the latest number of steps they had climbed, and it only made him want to drop dead right then and there. 337, she would say, 872, she would say again. And the cycle repeated the entire day.

It wasn't until an hour or so in did Sokka actually begin to pay close attention to her story, and he had to admit, it wasn't horrible.

"....And Liu was only six years old when he stood outside of the church where the wedding was being held. Legend has it that it's good luck for children who've lost their baby teeth to have a bride-to-be touch the inside of their mouth, and so he went inside and bit the bride's finger," She laughed.

Step Number 983

"That beautiful, sixteen year old bride was Xu. She was getting married to the richest man in the whole village. From that day on, Liu vowed that he would marry a girl like that someday. Sadly, Xu's husband died ten years later, leaving her a widow with her four children struggling to survive. They lived off mushrooms from this mountainside, and Xu made a living by making sandals and selling them in the marketplace."

She'd only allowed them to take a break twice, once for lunch and then again by a riverside. He watched as Suki plopped down into the grass, and he collapsed right next to her. She ran her hand through the water and smiled tenderly at her reflection. Sokka watched as she stood and lept onto a rock sticking out of the water and started hopping along.

"One night, Xu went to get water from a nearby river, with her youngest child riding on her back. Because it was so dark, Xu and her child had slipped and fell into the river. Liu just happened to be walking by when they fell in and he dived in to save them. He saved Xu's life, but unfortunately the child didn't make it, much to her despair."

Suki wobbled when she mistakenly stepped on an unsteady rock, and Sokka jumped to catch her, but she eventually regained her balance and gave him a reassuring look. She hopped back over to the grass and Sokka let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. From then on, they started back up the mountain.

Step Number 1,743

Sokka looked behind him again and his eyes lingered over the running water one more time. "That was the river," He mused aloud. "The river where they met. Wasn't it?"

Suki didn't answer him, but only smiled at him over her shoulder.

"Liu had always admired Xu from afar, and now this was his chance to get to know her. During this hard time, Liu helped the family out with everything he was able to; he helped them with all the things Xu and her kids had a hard time doing, and he and Xu grew closer. But being in a relationship with a man ten years younger than you was scandalous, and Xu became the victim of many, vicious rumors. It became too much for Xu, that she even asked to never see Liu again. That night, however, Liu snuck into her house and proposed. The next morning, Xu, her children, and Liu were gone from the village without a trace."

2,682

Sokka soon found himself being engulfed in the sound of her voice and entranced by her story. It surprised him that he was so interested and had totally forgotten about his shortness of breath and the burning feeling in his legs. He would skip up the steps a little faster than usual just so he could hear her better.

4,021

"Xu and Liu escaped to their mountain life in a small, abandoned hut made of straw. They grew their own crops, fished in the river, and built a sturdier home out of clay and mud from the mountain. They did everything by themselves, even went through childbirth without any medical assistance.

"Xu and Liu had seven children all together; four of Liu's kids and three from her previous marriage. As their children grew up, and settled down in the outside world, Xu and Liu still remained attached to their private, mountain life. And the only bridge between their secluded kingdom and the world below was a narrow, steep, dangerous path down the side of the mountain.

"Because of this dangerous trail, Liu worried for his wife's safety when traveling back to the village. He began hand-carving a stairway into the mountain side for her to walk down." Sokka looked below him, and at the step his foot was currently resting on. His eyes widened a fraction, and he finally understood the reason for her telling this story to him.

"Over the span of fifty-seven years, thirty-six broken chisels, and six thousand steps later, Liu had finally finished his stairway which we now know as the 'Ladder of Love'."

4,999....

Sokka's eyebrows furrowed when she didn't continue.

"Wait, what are you doing?" He asked her as she wandered off the path and into the grass near a tree. She started to take her pack off her shoulders and laid her sleeping bag underneath the tree. "W-we can't stop now! We have exactly one-thousand-and-one steps left, we're almost there!"

"Sokka, we've hiked all day. We have to get some rest, and it's dangerous to climb the stairs at night. You know what happened to Xu and the river."

"Okay, yeah, maybe you're right. But we still have about 20 minutes before the sun sets. We could still-"

"There's only rocks and dirt around the stairway from here on. This is the best spot we’ll find to camp. Let's just sleep here and then we'll get back on the road in the morning. I promise."

He gave a worried glance towards the steps, and then back at her. Now that he thought about it, he was feeling pretty worn out. Since he wasn't ignoring it anymore, Sokka felt a rush of fatigue wash over him. He let out a sigh in surrender. "Okay...I guess we can rest for a little while..." He dejected. "But we’re finishing this thing! Right when the sun rises, bright and early!"

Suki chuckled at his newfound determination. "Deal," She told him, smiling even wider as he laid his sleeping bag down next to hers.

She smirked when he scooted closer to her.

"What?" He asked, pretending to be defensive. "It's cold up here in the mountain air. You can't just let me freeze to death."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." She replied, nestling closer to him as he wrapped her tightly in his arms. "Good job today," She mentioned. "I honestly didn't think you had it in you. The climbing is really difficult, among other things." Sokka took a moment to ponder what she said. He heard her chuckle again beneath him. "Six thousand's a pretty high number, Sokka."

And he then realized just what she meant by that.

He had been counting the steps as well.

...

Now it was Suki's turn to be woken up way too early for her liking. He wasn't kidding when he said they had to get on the move when the sun rose, although he had been packing their things long before then. He woke her up with a gentle kiss on her forehead. But when that didn’t get her moving, he ripped her pillow out from under her head and started smacking her with it.

Suki let out an annoyed grunt and turned to lay on her stomach, but that only gave him the opportunity to sit on her back. "You're abusing your privileges of pillow use," She mumbled, face down into the grass as he kept hitting her.

"Come. On." He said between hits. "We. Have. To. Go."

She smiled sleepily as she rolled over suddenly, causing him to fall as she sat up. "Are you really ready to go so early? Aren't you even a little bit sore?"

He shook his head vigorously. "Nope. Not me. In fact, I've been awake for hours."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It’s funny to watch you drool in your sleep."

She threw her pillow in his face and rolled her eyes.

Sokka let out a laugh as he helped her back onto the stairway. It made Suki happy to hear him counting this time. It was even a little difficult to keep up with him, his rushed hops up the stairs made her smile from ear to ear. "Five thousand and one, five thousand and two, five thousand and three, five thousand and four,"

There was a point in time when Suki was so lost in watching him in the early morning sunlight, adoration spilling from her heart, that she lost track of time. Before she had time to process, they were walking up the last few steps and they were at the top.

“Is that a...house?” Sokka wondered aloud incredulously. Suki’s head perked up, and she pushed past him to see.

She inhaled at the sight and a wide grin spread across her face. “Think you’re up for checking it out?” She asked as she planted her hands on her hips.

Sokka smirked at her and then back at the house.

“Well, we’ve made it this far.”

...

They cautiously made their way to the front door and knocked gently before taking a look around. There was a small garden growing to the right of the house, and a few chickens pecked around in a pen. Someone was clearly living here, but the question was who would want to live at the top of a mountain with the only way in or out was a six thousand step staircase?

Talk about a commute.

Suki and Sokka heard rustling and the sound of glass breaking inside before Sokka knocked on the door again, a little harder this time, but the noise continued. The two looked at each other incredulously, they’re eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Then they heard a voice irately shout, “Go away!”

Both of their eyes widened. “Should we...” Sokka started.

“I don’t think...”

But before she could finish, Sokka knocked for the third time and they heard an outraged cry. More rustling filled their ears, the noise coming closer and closer to the door until it suddenly came to a stop.

The door opened a crack and a pair of eyes peeked out. Two bushy eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance and the pair of eyes merely glared at them for a short moment before opening the door further to reveal an elderly man with a white wild, untamed beard and hair. His frame was stout but short, his skin tan and wrinkled. He stood with his fists balled up as he sized both of them up. “Well?” He barked when neither of them said anything. “What do you want? It better be good considering you interrupted my breakfast!”

Suki and Sokka couldn’t help but stare at him for another short moment before glancing back at each other, then back at the man before them. He glared at them until huff fell from his lips and he growled, “Forget it!” as he went to slam his door.

Before he could, Sokka pushed his palm against the door to stop it from being shut. “Wait!” He exclaimed, and was relieved when the man didn’t try to slam it again. “We...just hiked this mountain using The Ladder of Love and-”

“Why do people keep calling it that!” The old man sneered, crossing his arms. “If I wanted to build a ladder, then I would’ve built a ladder! But it’s a staircase! A staircase that leads to my house, so I should get to name it myself!”

Both Suki and Sokka’s face melted into ones of shock once the realization hit them. Their mouths hung open as they watched the man before them, a man they thought didn’t exist, angrily ramble on.

“-and I am so tired of couples from Kyoshi Village trespassing up here! I don’t care if it’s a betrothal tradition, I didn’t say my property could be a part of a tradition! People can’t make it a tradition without my permission and my permission is not granted!”

Liu huffed heavily as he finished yelling and his outburst came to an end. After he shortly studied the kids’ clueless expressions, he sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not...from Kyoshi Village, are you?”

Before Sokka could answer, Suki put her hand on his chest and quickly replied, “We are, but we had no idea anyone lived up here. We only hiked up here because of the myth of Liu and Xu-”

“Bah! Your village always liked to gossip! Our business could never be just our own!”

“So...the myth is true?” Sokka jumped in. “Are you actually Liu?”

His eyes narrowed into angry slits. “...If I say yes, will you go away?”

Sokka squealed with excitement. "So you really built all these stairs by hand? Without earthbending?!" He enthusiastically asked him. Liu nodded, much to Sokka’s delight. He loved meeting talented nonbenders. "That's amazing! You've created a monument single-handedly!"

Liu only nodded again in acknowledgment. “Well...thanks, kid. No one’s ever talked about my work before, they usually just ask for my blessing on their marriage or some other mumbo jumbo.” Liu nervously scratched the back of his balding head. “At least you’ve got some taste.”

“Do you live all alone up here?” Suki gently asked him after she glanced around and saw no one else. “Where’s, um...”

“Xu?” Liu solemnly finished for her. Suki nodded, having a heavy feeling settle in her stomach. She and Sokka both had a feeling of where this was leading. Liu sighed, his eyes falling to the ground for a long moment. “My Xu became one with the spirits a few years ago. She...always loved visitors, but now I...it just...”

“It reminds you of the past, doesn’t it?” Sokka calmly interjected. Liu picked his head up to meet his gaze in surprise. His eyes were wet, but he didn’t try to hide it.

“...Yes,” He whispered, sniffling as he used his sleeve to dry his eyes. “It does.”

“Well we’re sorry to bother you. Thank you for your time, but we’ll get out of your hair...er...” Sokka smiled nervously when he realized the man was balding and there were only small tufts of hair left on his head. “...Beard.”

Liu narrowed his eyes at him.

“Thank you again!” Suki interrupted, taking Sokka’s arm as she started pulling him back towards the steps.

She waved back to Liu over her shoulder and smiled, and in that moment, a memory of Xu with that same smile flashed before his eyes. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it as he watched the young couple start down the stairs.

He grumbled, thinking there was a chance he’d regret this, but he hurried after them before shouting, “Wait!” He panted heavily as he came closer to them, and rested his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath.

Liu then offered them both a small, tender smile before inviting them into his home for a cup of tea, much to Suki and Sokka’s surprise.

They accepted, much to his surprise.

That had been the first time he smiled at them that day, but it wasn’t the last.

Liu told them the real story of his life, filled with colorful and exuberant details the young couple loved to share with the old man. They laughed together, and tears were shed, but most importantly, wounds started to heal for Liu on that day. He never thought sharing the story of him and his wife could be as mending as it was, as opposed to trying to forget their story to avoid the pain of his loss. He also never could have expected that two trespassers would grow to become some of his greatest friends.

...

They visited him often over the course of many years. Whenever they were on Kyoshi Island, Suki and Sokka would hike up the mountain to bring him food, souvenirs from other nations, or to simply catch up with Liu over a cup of tea. They’d share their stories of the other cities they’d seen, tell Liu about their friends, and he would teach them about the things he held close to his heart. He gardened with Suki, he taught Sokka how to raise livestock, and in return, they’d teach him about the world he had never seen.

Liu couldn’t have predicted he’d spend the last eight years of his life looking forward to these visits, nor could he predict he would become such a pivotal component in many of the young couple’s milestones together.

It was on his mountain when Sokka learned of the tradition in Kyoshi Village.

Women hike the mountain with the person they intended to marry. Some see it as a test, others see it as a good omen should they make it to the top. Sokka saw it as a confirmation that Suki felt the same way about him as he did her, and Liu can’t remember the last time he laughed as hard as he did while he watched a gleeful Sokka start racing down the mountain to find her.

It was on his mountain where Sokka learned to carve into stone.

It was also on his mountain where Sokka first gave Suki the betrothal necklace that Liu only slightly took credit for. (He did teach the kid how to carve into the stone the pendant was made from, after all.)

It was on his mountain the first time Suki told Sokka they weren’t going to be able to hike the stairs for awhile because it would be hard for her to hike with a baby on the way.

(And the second time too.)

Liu watched these important moments pass for this couple, and it brought peace to his heart seeing a love as strong as the one he held of Xu grow right before his eyes. Beauty filled his life again, and he felt a warmth he hadn’t been able to remember for quite some time.

He was never a fan of goodbyes, though.

When he knew the time had come, Liu sent a letter down to the village where it would wait for Suki and Sokka’s return to the island.

And with the peace they had gifted him with settled deeply in his heart, Liu went home to Xu.

...

“Sokka!” Suki called from the front door into their house. Her husband had already taken the kids inside and started settling in. “We have a letter from Liu!”

“What?” He rounded the corner, a perplexed look adorning his face. He hugged her hips from behind and peeked over her shoulder. “That’s...weird. What’s it say?”

Both of their eyes glanced over his written words, but Suki tried to keep a gasp from escaping her lips by putting her hand over her mouth when she was about two lines in. Sokka’s lips fell slightly agape, and he hugged her tighter as tears pricked both of their eyes.

My friends,

Huh. I’ve said it all these years, and yet it still sounds odd. It’s odd to call you two my own friends. I hadn’t had any friends in a very long time before you two came along, and for you I am grateful.

We cannot have any more visits with each other. Not because I didn’t cherish and appreciate every moment I’ve spent learning and laughing with you kids, but because time passes too quickly for us to realize its pace. It’s time I find my way back to Xu, but I don’t leave without feeling slight sadness in knowing this means I won’t hear another one of your stories about your adventures in Republic City.

You are in the middle of rebuilding a world, one built for peace, and I am very proud to have watched you grow into the leaders you are in our community today.

You have both given so much to me. So with a grateful heart, I will give this last thing to you before I go; in this letter is I hope you will find one last lesson and one last memory to make with your family.

Once Koda and Anaji are old enough, I hope you will bring them up to my mountain. I have come to understand and appreciate the importance of keeping mine and Xu’s story alive. You may share as much of it with them as you please, but going up my mountain will also allow you to share your story with your children as well. They will see the place where their mother and father first got engaged, be told how their parents met, and how they rebuilt Kyoshi Village together after they ended Thee 100 Year War as teenagers. They will hold these memories with them forever.

They will hike up my steps, which brings me to the last lesson I have for you. I have left my drafts and notes on how I constructed the staircase in my garden. Architecture is something I studied for many years as I made these stairs, and perhaps it will be helpful for you and your friends as you build the most peaceful city in history.

(You can finally stop pestering me for blueprints, Sokka.)

I will always be grateful to have known you. Thank you for trespassing all those many years ago. May your next victim be as lucky as I was.

-Liu

...

“Mom? Dad?” Suki and Sokka turned to see their 8 year old son staring at them with his wide, blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Suki wiped her eyes with her sleeve before getting down on her knees and putting her hands on her son’s shoulders. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetie.” She smiled at him tenderly. “But...” She looked back and Sokka for a moment. He turned towards her and nodded, returning her smile. “Why don’t you go get your sister?”

“I think we’re going on a hike.”

#Sokka and Suki #suki #sokka #sukka #sukka fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #sokka x suki #romance #warriorsuki17 #suki x sokka #atla #atla fanfic #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar fanfiction

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normiewrites · 5 years ago

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like a deer in the headlights

hello all, this is apart of the monster collab that @bigpokico organised. firstly, yes i know that a buck and a deer aren’t the same and that this is most probably how shapeshifting doesn’t work but we gon roll with it, thanks.

thanks to @kingtamakimurder and @kenmaksuwu for helping me edit!

also tobio is very ooc and this is my longest fic yet, thats it, sorry.

Warning(s): slight stalking, semi public sex, virgin tobio, virgin reader, lots of running, unprotected sex, fluffy tho, fucking a shapeshifter in human form, f33lings

Shapeshifter!Tobio x (fem)Reader

“Bye y/n!” your friend called out to you as they entered the grey world, a rainbow umbrella protecting them from the pelting rain drops as they made their way to their house, opposite to yours. You were stuck in the school because of how harshly the rain was pouring, and you parents would only be able to come in another hour or so due to work. You didn’t quite mind the rain, in fact you loved it, but you just didn’t want all your books to get wet.

“Fucking hell” you murmured under your breath as you accidentally stepped into a puddle, too eager to touch the rain, distorting your reflected image. Your left shoe was completely soaked as the cold water seeped inside to greet your foot. You internally sighed, knowing that you most probably could catch some chills now, and you wondered about how parents would always make you cover yourself up to not catch a cold, even though a cold is a virus. Your scientific debacle was interrupted as your image was joined by another, his black hair and slightly tan skin being rippled through.

“Club is cancelled, why are you still here?” Tobio asked, looking at you with the straight face he always had. You had been his clubs’ manager since the first year, and even though you both had grown much since then, Tobio Kageyama was still the same in his third year. You both weren’t close, but you always held a special spot in your heart for him. However he was someone who kept to himself, so you just admired him from a distance.

You looked up at the ceiling that hung over the both of you, noting how the colour matched his skin. You could feel the cold breeze rush to your open neck, plus something else that was lingering, yet you ignored it. You snapped Tobio’s stare at your neck as you brought your chin back down, answering him, “I forgot my umbrella and my parents are gonna take time to pick me up. You?”

“Had some work with Takeda sensei about the upcoming finals. You live near Konoha, right?” he asked, unbuttoning the strap on his dark blue umbrella.

It might have been just you who noticed this, but dark blue seemed to be his favourite colour; he must’ve known how addicting his eyes are.

You nodded at him, smiling at how the underside of the umbrella was decorated in Mikasa volleyballs; he was such a dork. You were about to say your goodbyes as he stepped into the rain, but his offer stopped you.

“Come with me, I live near there” he actually didn’t, but his racing heart made his mind not give a fuck about the consequences that would follow him going so far.

You smiled softly, taking your phone to update your parents before you joined him underneath the umbrella, your arms rubbing against each other, faces blushing as fingers grazed each other the whole way home.

Finally reaching your house, you sneaked a kiss to his cheek as a thanks, laughing at the flustered mess he became under your charm. You quickly hopped into your house, turning back for a final wave goodbye as you rushed to the living room.

You dumped your bags and shoes near the couch before sitting on the floor in front of the big sliding windows that lead to your backyard. You looked through the thickness of the trees, the darkness of it teasing you as you tried looking for it; more specifically him.

He was a beautiful black buck, his coat always so shiny, his eyes dark blue and his antlers a tan colour. You snickered at the thought of how it reminded you of Tobio, something that seemed so impossible. It was odd seeing a male deer of this variation, but it didn’t stop you from anticipating his visit at 5pm sharp every day.

He first came to visit you after you came back from the volleyball training camps. You were tired of catching up on schoolwork, relaxing on your back porch and you had looked up for a distraction only to find him teetering on the edges of the woods that grew into your back yard. Once his eyes had caught yours he jumped away back into the woods, only for him to come the next day and so on, for the following 2 years.

These days you enjoyed his visits even more as you knew your time in this house was nearly coming to an end, graduation sneaking up on you. He seemed to sense this too as he would stay for longer than the previous year. You could always take the antlers he shed during spring, but it was nothing compared to how beautiful his presence was.

You really wanted to touch him, to feel his snout press up against your palm before you let your fingers run through his shiny black hair. You wanted to scratch the spot between his antlers but he would only ever let you get so close. So for now, all you would do is sit cross legged in the prickly grass of your backyard, the two of you just looking at each other.

Sometimes you would talk to him as if you were talking to a human, and you could swear that he seemed to understand you from how he nodded or shook his head from time to time. Other times he would bring you something from the woods; an acorn, a pinecone, flowers, pebbles, anything really, but most times the both of you would just sit and enjoy each other’s presence.

However much you wanted to touch him and follow him into the woods, you knew that you would only be making yourself suffer, because what if you were to scare him off forever? Your thoughts were yet again distracted by a movement in your sight, revealing the anticipated guest. Checking the clock that hung over the couch, reading that he was an hour late? It was odd, but nevertheless you were still glad to see him. Crawling to the sliding doors, you sat on your knees as you let your hands rest on the doors, condensation forming from the contrasting temperature of your hands and the outside.

You carefully caught his blue eyes with your e/c ones, smiling as you bowed your head for him and he copied. You both had a very respectful relationship, but it wasn’t the type that made you hold your breaths, it was the type where you could sit in silence for hours and still be satisfied. You couldn’t deny that this relationship was strange, but it wasn’t that reason that kept you from telling anyone about it. It was for the sole purpose of keeping it all to yourself. It was a greedy thing, but you enjoyed it better when only you could ever know of it, it was much more intimate.

Suddenly, the buck walked out a bit from his original position from the edge of the woods. You saw as he panted softly, tiny huffs of smoke leaving his mouth, and it made you wonder why he was late and so tired. He didn’t seem to be injured or scared, in fact he seemed to be getting closer to you each second. Experimenting, you raised your hands to the handle, watching as he didn’t flinch before you opened the doors, slowly crawling out onto the wet and muddy grass. You couldn’t care as the mud stained your skirt and knees, because all you could see was a buck lowering his head, his eyes looking up at how’d you react.

You gulped softly, you didn’t know if he wanted you to do what you wanted to do for so long. There were so many things you didn’t know. Was he really allowing you to touch him? Closing your eyes, you put your hand out, letting it hover above his head before letting a breath go as you felt soft hair brace your touch. It was everything you expected and more, even the wetness caused by the rain couldn’t ruin it for you. Popping your eyes fully open, you gasped softly at how close his face actually was to yours, you could feel his hot breath grazing your cheek as your hand remained on his nose. You slowly moved up his face, your fingers finally reaching that spot between his antlers before you started to scratch it softly. He shivered softly, closing his eyes and shaking a bit as you hit all the right spots, he had to stop himself from pushing himself fully into your grasp.

The moment lasted shorter than it should have as you sneezed into your arm, startling him as he backed up a bit. Sighing softly, you realised how the warmth of his body distracted you from the cold that had seeped into your skin from the rain, cursing it for the first time in your life. You were drenched, your hair sticking to your skin as your clothes followed the outline of your body. Before you could apologize to the startled buck, he bowed his head before hopping back into the woods, making you groan in frustration at the missed opportunity as your eyes followed the two white dots that were embedded on his right hind leg.

Little did you know that it wasn’t going to be the last time you touched him like this.

____

The next week

____

"Graduation is tomorrow. Next week, I’ll be going to Germany for Uni to study criminology and forensic sciences” you told him, your hands playing with his ears, chuckling when he shook his head from how ticklish it was.

It was one of those times you could have sworn he was human as he huffed softly at your announcement. He almost seemed sad with the way that his tail perked down along with his head, his eyes not on you anymore.

“Come on, it’s not like you’ll miss. I bet you have a nice family in the woods” you chuckled softly as he sneakily poked an antler into your side, making you yelp softly.

You were happier that you both had gotten so close to each other in the past week, yet each time he always ended up hopping away within twenty minutes, not enough time for you. It was as if he was hiding something from you, or he was too scared that you’d skin him and use his fur as a mat in your uni dorm.

You honestly couldn’t care anymore, you wanted him to stay longer, even if he was just going to poke you with his antlers. You didn’t know why you needed him so badly, maybe because he was the only one for you there when you came home. Your parents were never home, always too busy for you with their jobs, so he was almost like your anchor. He reminded you that life has its quirks and that your life was just as precious.

So as he took his leave, you stood up, quietly stalking behind him. Of course, he knew you were following him, and it worried him, because, how long were you going to follow him until he was to reveal his true form? Shapeshifting may seem like an amazing ability, but it came with many limitations.

You kept following him, not minding the way the dark bark of the trees dug into your skin, or how the ferns tickled your bare knees, you just followed the escaping buck, your heartbeat drumming in your head as the patches of sunlight that came through the trees gave you warmth for a few seconds or so. Gradually you picked up pace to match his till the point where you were running after him. You were thankful for the trees being so tall as no branches wacked you in the face. It was hard following an animal, especially with how fast and agile they are, but with the way that he stopped before making turns or slow downed a few times, it seemed like he wanted you to follow him.

Upon entering a clearing, the buck stopped, oddly tired as he watched you approach him, his body leaning against the trunk of a tree.

You were equally as tired, scratches and marks littering your skin as you rested your hands on your knees, taking a breather. Despite the exhaustion, you were filled to the brim with joy, because you finally got to him, and you were a lucky cat as you weren’t dead yet. Before you could reach to him, your whole world fell. Everything went up as you went down, the leaf covered ground coming closer to you as a root was snagged on your foot. You closed your eyes, bracing for the impact that never came. Instead you felt a more cushioning fall, and it felt all too human like, especially with the groans that were underneath you.

Peeping open your eyes and placing your hands on the surface you fell on, you realised that it was a human. A human named Tobio Kageyama.

What

The

Fuck?!

You scrambled up behind, pushing the leaves as you tried your best to back away from the naked boy, confusion raking every cell in your body.

How the fuck was he just a buck right now? A human and animal? You pondered what type of mushrooms were in your soup last night as the boy had caught up to you, making you yelp softly as he pinned you underneath him, one of his hands covering your mouth as the ground hit your head softly.

You tried screaming but all that came out were mumbles and you couldn’t do anything to resolve that as his other hand had gripped both of yours and held it to the ground. Despite all the thrashing around, you could see the frantic look in his eyes, the same eyes that would watch you make a flower crown with the flowers that he would collect from the woods.

Slowly realising that he was overpowering you easily, you calmed down, hoping that things would be explained by him quicker.

“Shhh, keep it down, you have such a loudmouth!” he said before grunting as you nipped his hand, still not removing it.

“Listen, I’ll explain everything if you just shut up” he growled, finally removing his hand to inspect all the little marks you left there.

“What the fuck, Kageyama?” you said, still trying your best to get out of his grasp, trying to knee his back.

What hurt more was that you were using his last name instead of his first like you always did, but he had to control himself from letting anything slip.

“Please, just promise me you’ll not run away or do anything stupid, and I’ll explain everything and leave you unscathed” he whispered, slowly loosening his grip on your wrists.

“Leave me unscathed? Are you tryna kill me?!” you said, pushing him back as soon as you got out of his grip, backing away even further before he grabbed your ankles, pulling you back underneath him.

“Jesus Christ, if I’d had known you were this stupid, I wouldn’t have ever fallen in love with you” he finally let you, pinning your arms down yet again, as wrinkles drew up between his eyebrows in frustration.

Those lines faded away once he realised what he had said, groaning as he hung his head down, deliberately not making eye contact with you whatsoever. He had definitely increased his body temperature from all the chasing and transforming but the blush on his cheeks took him to a whole new level, he thought he had a fever, well, this was a fever dream anyways. How the fuck were you supposed to explain to your crush that you were a shapeshifter and that your stalking was valid?

The shared silence became more awkward as the adrenaline slowly faded from both of your bodies, making you realise that one of you wasn’t clothed appropriately for this situation, and if it weren’t for the fact that Tobio may not be human, it could be the opening scene to a hippie porno.

“Why do you love me? You barely know me” you panted softly, watching as his head snapped up at that.

“What kind of stupid question is that? I’m still the same black buck with the two white spots on my hind leg, I know a lot about you” he quipped as he subconsciously rubbed your wrists with his thumbs.

“At least answer my question, even if it is stupid” you groaned, remembering all the personal stuff you had told him.

“Don’t make fun of me then, I know you will”

“I won’t”

“Sure”

“I’m serious, just tell me already”

“Fine…I just kinda love everything about you. It’s hard to explain but my heart keeps racing so fast whenever I see you and it’s so annoying because it does that at the tiniest little things and distracts me from practice. Like when you come up to me and give my bottle and towel with a smile, how you can easily joke around with T-Tanaka and Noya, how you give me tips at the end of a few sessions of mistakes that I were making, how you laughed and smiled when you woke me up with an ice bucket during training camps, how you do that stupidly cute little wave whenever you see me or how you use your sarcasm to fuck around with my s-stupidity, there’s just so much that I love about you that I can’t ignore. Most importantly, I love how you treat me so gently, so delicately as you try your best not to drive me away, and your touch is so soft, AHH, see?? There’s too much to handle”

Tobio was out of breath as he kept rambling on. His bare chest heaving as he willed himself to stop, blush spreading to his ears and neck as he buried his face in his hands. Something inside you spurred on, and your heart felt so light yet warm. Everyone always longed to love and be loved and here you were, living the dream. You hadn’t noticed the matching blush on your face that had crept up with a small smile. To be honest, you always had a soft spot for him. You loved teasing him just to watch his face burn up and his lips stutter and you had to admit, your room was more dark blue that it should have been. Looking at this boy, you never had a frown on your face because everything just seemed more…colourful. You might not have noticed it because dating was never on your mind or it was just your normal reaction around the setter, and you regretted not acknowledging your feelings for him earlier, so you had to do what you could with the time you had.

Stopping him during his ramble, you leaned up and capture his lips with yours, giving him a light kiss. He was certainly surprised, but the adrenaline in his body didn’t make him hesitate as he kissed you back deeper, his hands now intertwining with yours, pining them back down.

“Y-you like me?” he whispered against your lips, his eyes on them as he awaited your answer.

You admired how pretty he looked up close, it was ethereal. He didn’t have to wait any longer as you gave him another kiss, one which was more passionate than the last as you tightened your grip on his hands. The kiss was anything but lewd and you took it further by prodding his mouth with your tongue. He didn’t hesitate to let you in, the feeling new to him as he felt his body heat up from how your tongue danced with his. He shifted his body so that his right thigh slipped between your legs, not letting you clench them close, which earned him a whimper form you. He earned another whimper as he separated his lips from yours, his eyes hazy with lust as he panted softly before trailing his lips from your mouth to your cheek, whispering “tell me if you’re uncomfortable at any time” against your ear before they went down to your jaw, pressing lingering and hot kisses. You unlaced your hands from his to tug on his hair, letting out small moans as he kissed against all your sweet spots, making you curl your toes from the light touches.

“I’m not so sure about what I’m doing, so guide me” he whispered, kissing against your throat as he looked up at you.

“Just, just lightly nip and suck at a few spots, Tobio” you mumbled softly, looking up to the patterns of the branches that rested at the tops of the trees, rays of light flickering down upon the both of you.

He did as you guided, his lips sucking on a few spots before his teeth nipped right at your sweet spot, sending tingled down your spine as you tangled your fingers in his hair, moaning out his name softly. The feeling of his wet and hot mouth against your skin was addicting and you pushed his head closer to you, wanting to be as close as possible.

“Tobio, you’re such a tease” you panted out softly, letting out a moan as he shifted his thigh to rest right at your damp panties, a jolt going through your body at the sudden pressure on your clit.

“I won’t be able to hold myself back if you say my name like that” he softly moaned against your collarbone before licking the mark he left there.

“Then don’t, Tobio” you whispered sneakily into his ear, making sure you emphasized his syllables in your sultry tone.

His hand sneaked onto your thigh, feeling the warm flesh that your school skirt exposed before his fingers slowly travelled up, sending warm tingles as he inched closer and closer to your most needy part.

“Should I touch you there?” he asked, nibbling on your earlobe. He was so innocent but the way he said it almost sounded like he was teasing you as his fingers danced on the edge of your panties.

“Please” you whined softly, gasping as you felt his warm fingers graze against your clit over the material of your panties, the barrier teasing you.

You were about to protest with how soft he was being before he slid your panties down to your knees, slowly plunging a finger into your wet and tight walls. He mumbled out a curse at how your pussy sucked in his finger, it was all so new to him. He watched your contorted expressions change from pain to pleasure as he curled the finger before taking it out. He was fascinated from how your body reacted so much from such a simple thing and the throb in his cock make him crave more as he added another finger to the one that was already thrusting inside of you.

You scratched down his back and made him groan as he plunged both of his fingers deep inside your clenching walls curling them just right and hitting your g-spot. Nothing prepared you for when his thumb circled your clit, going faster as he registered your reaction. His setter fingers were doing wonders for you.

“Fuck, ngh, right there, Tobio!” you moaned, uncaring for the twigs that pinched your shoulders as you arched your back.

He looked in awe as you continued thrashing around, taking it as a good sign as you begged more from him. He might have seemed like an innocent virgin, but he was a normal hormonal boy, of course he had a few videos he could reference from.

“T-Tobio, stop being a tease and fuck me already” you moaned, sliding your hands back up his bare back to tug on the roots of his hair. It seemed like that had done it for him as he moaned underneath your touch, following your orders.

“P-please tell me if it hurts, I-I’ll stop” he mumbled against your neck as he nuzzled his face there before guiding his tip to your entrance.

You gasped softly at how hot his tip felt against your clit, begging him to put it in as you wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him better access.

He didn’t wait any longer before slowly inserting it into your warm and wet walls, letting out moans as he felt you clench around him immediately. You on the other hand scrunched up your face, an unsettling pain humming in your pussy before you controlled your breathing, letting the muscles relax. Tobio didn’t noticed the painful expression on your face until he was in all the way, both of your pelvises touching from the close proximity.

“F-fuck, are you okay?” he asked worriedly, slowly taking himself out before you stopped him, your hands clenching onto his strong and muscular shoulders as you shook your head.

“J-just wait, let me adjust, stay still, ngh” you panted out softly before taking deep breaths and relaxing your muscles again, getting used to the feeling of being so full. After a bit, you started enjoying the feeling of his hard cock rubbing snugly against your walls.

“You can move now” you moaned softly as he started to thrust in and out slowly.

“F-fuck, y-y/n, you’re so tight” he whimpered against your neck, his neediness vibrating against your skin.

“Y-you’re so good, Tobio” you moaned, tugging onto his hair even tighter, feeling him thrust deeply into you from that action, moaning and curling your toes as you felt his tip press against your g-spot.

“Fuck, ngh, right there” you moaned, feeling how his back muscles flexed as he thrusted deeper, angling perfectly into the spot. He was always on point, determined to get you to orgasm, it was his setters’ way of life.

You arched your back, loving how the cool Earth felt against your heated bodies. The woods were silent and peaceful except for the sounds of moans and skin slapping. It was so blissful and not even the birds flying overhead could distract you from the boy on top of you.

Bringing his face out of the crook in your neck and close to your face, you captured his swollen lips with yours, swallowing his moans as he increased his pace, still thrusting deeply into your tight pussy.

“I love you, y/n” he whispered through grunts as he parted your lips for a second before attacking them again.

You didn’t have to question him; you knew he did. He was always one to mess up with his words and not be able to express his feelings whole heartedly, so when he did, he meant it. And you did too. Squinting open your eyes slightly confirmed those feelings, falling in love with the way that he scrunched his eyes shut, sweat dripping down his forehead as his face was redder than a strawberry. You loved it all and so you tightened your legs around his waist, moaning loudly as you felt his tip press harshly against your g-spot in one final deep thrust, spilling all over him.

Tilting your head back, you felt your whole-body spasm as your orgasm ripped through your body, the coil in your abdomen snapping as you came undone. Your own release sent Tobio hurtling into his own, your clenching walls milking him of all his cum.

“F-fuck, shit, y-y/n” he moaned, collapsing on top of you, panting against your neck as he gripped your waist tightly, a few tears leaving his eyes once his high settled down.

You relaxed your hands on his back, rubbing his hot skin softly, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever, to not go to a different university and just live in the woods with Tobio. You didn’t fully know what he was, but you still loved every part of him.

“Tobio?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.”

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 32: Martin

They’re right. Jon Prime can’t see the colors of fear like Tim can. It’s something between a shock and a relief to all of them, but especially to Jon. Less pleasing is the news that, apparently, the one in the Institute who can see marks is Jonah, although Jon Prime admits he doesn’t know how he sees them, or even if he actually sees them or just Knows they’re there.

Tim gets very dramatic about this, but Martin suspects it really does bother him more than a little.

They won’t let Tim push himself to experiment, but he does a couple of carefully controlled and supervised peeks at objects and statements. Martin and Martin Prime are both extremely vocal and vehement in their opposition to him going up to Artifact Storage to have a look around, and even Sasha agrees it would be a really terrible idea. Jon makes it unanimous by declaring that Tim has met his quota of bad decisions for the year and begun borrowing against the next. Tim gives in gracefully enough.

He cheers up some when the first Sunday in Advent passes—not that any of them are churchgoers, but it’s a convenient way to mark the start of the season—and they’re able to decorate their house for Christmas. Martin hasn’t celebrated, really, since his grandfather died, and Jon even longer ago than that, but it’s hard not to join in with Tim’s enthusiasm. Jon finds a sprig of mistletoe and hangs it over the door; Sasha teases him about it, then evidently regrets it when it touches off a mini-lecture about its history as a protective plant to ward off witches and demons.

Martin finds himself staring at it every time they pass through the front door. It’s just a silly superstition, of course, but if he thought it would work, he’d deck out every door and window in the place. From the fact that he comes back from lunch one day and sees Tim with a search page called up for protective plants and charms, he suspects he’s not alone in that.

As the calendar goes over into December, they’re all beginning to relax somewhat. Jon is less neurotic; Sasha is less secretive and a bit more open about what she’s doing (emphasis on a bit). Martin is able to keep himself from overcompensating for his shortcomings (or, as Jon insists on referring to them, perceived shortcomings), and Tim hasn’t done anything catastrophically stupid in three weeks. Even the Primes seem more relaxed. Jon Prime is getting progressively stronger; he still says he has trouble thinking down in the tunnels, but he’s able to move around without needing to sleep for two days afterward. Martin Prime seems less worried about him, seems being the operative term. Martin knows it can’t last, but he hopes they’ll at least get through the new year before they have to start really worrying about fears and monsters and cops and bosses.

He should really know better by now.

Martin assumes the footsteps on the stairs belong to Tim or Sasha. He cut his lunch a bit short because he was expecting a callback regarding a statement follow-up, which he’s just ended, and he assumes it took longer than he anticipated. He looks up, ready to pass on the information, but the words dry up in his throat at the sight of the person striding towards him. Solid, with well-defined muscles and a blonde crew cut, the woman looks a good deal like the description of the assassin in the Jeffrey Archer book he did his last school report on, but despite being in plainclothes, she screams cop. This, then, must be Detective Alice “Daisy” Tonner, and Martin has no idea why she’s here.

Her eyes narrow when she spots Martin, and he shrinks back instinctively from the intensity in her eyes before he gets a hold on himself. He hasn’t, he reminds himself, done anything wrong. “Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his voice only squeaking a little.

“You’re Martin Blackwood?” she demands.

“Y-yes?”

“The Martin Blackwood?”

If this were any other situation, Martin might respond with a paraphrase of that line from one of the Hitchhiker’s Guide books, he can’t remember if it’s the second or third off the top of his head: No, just a Martin Blackwood, don’t you know I come in six packs? That, however, would be tantamount to suicide. Then he remembers that the Primes got pulled over. “I’m the Martin Blackwood that works in the Institute, yes. Can I help you?”

Daisy—it’s impossible to think of her as anything else—eyeballs him, then grunts. “Detective Daisy Tonner. I need to talk to the Head Archivist.”

“Yep. Of course. Right this way.” Martin jumps to his feet, nearly toppling his chair over backwards, and starts towards Jon’s office. “Uh, can I get you a…cup of tea or…?”

“I’m fine,” Daisy growls.

The small, furry mammal of Martin’s inner being flattens its ears and crouches in the grass, desperately hoping to avoid being seen, and Martin swallows hard. “R-right. Um. This way.”

He leads Daisy over to Jon’s office door and opens it cautiously. He’s pretty sure Jon isn’t recording, at least not on the tape recorder, but he’s usually careful anyway, especially since none of them knock anymore; Jon’s asked them to stop and they’ve decided, collectively, not to ask questions. Yet.

Jon looks up from the spread of papers on his desk and smiles, but it fades quickly. Martin can only imagine what his face must look like. “Martin. Is everything all right?”

“There’s a Detective Tonner here to see you,” Martin answers.

He is in complete agreement with whatever emotion Jon’s face is attempting to convey as he shuts the folder and shoves the papers aside. “Ah…send her in.”

“Okay. I’m, um, there’s something I need to run down,” Martin says. “U-unless you need me to stick around.”

Jon seems to understand. Of course he does. “No, I should be all right.” He doesn’t sound completely sure. “Make certain your phone is on you, though.”

Martin doesn’t bother pointing out that the tunnels don’t get service. “Right.” He steps out and nods to Daisy. “You can go in.”

Daisy doesn’t thank him, just pushes past him and shuts the door. Martin stands still for a moment, trying to shake the creeping feeling of dread, then turns and heads for the trapdoor leading to the tunnels.

Something I need to run down. Jon told Martin, after Melanie’s visit, that he liked that as a code phrase for ducking into the tunnels, so they’ve all been using it lately. Usually it’s to ask the Primes a question or clarify something, sometimes just to check up on them and see if they need anything. Jon and Sasha are taking it in turns to map out the tunnels, too—they’ve almost finished the first level. Maybe. Tim and Martin, on the other hand, occasionally go down just to get some relief from the constant pressure of the Eye.

It’s interesting, Martin thinks as he clicks on his torch and descends the steps, how differently they react to the tunnels, or more specifically to the effect of the tunnels on them. Tim embraces it, and Martin suspects he would spend all his time down there if he thought he could get away with it, but he usually goes down at least once a day, if only for a few minutes. Sasha finds it kind of exciting, not being able to just ferret out the tunnel’s secrets easily, but the problem is that she’s addicted to the mystery of it. Jon is in a weird place; on the one hand, he also wants to know everything about the tunnels that he can, but on the other, he’s already starting to get to a point where if he stays down for too long, he winds up drained and shaky. Both he and Sasha are under strict injunctions not to spend more than an hour a day in the tunnels, and privately, Martin thinks that might be too long for both of them.

And Martin? He’s in a weird place, too. He does like the comfort of not being constantly watched, and of knowing that he can ask people how they’re feeling and know he won’t accidentally compel them to answer, and if he’s being honest, it’s one of the two places in the world he feels completely safe and relaxed (his mind skips away from actually acknowledging what the other place is). At the same time, though, he feels…guilty. Like he’s abandoning someone who’s depending on him.

With a sigh, he leans against the wall of the tunnel for just a moment, then straightens up and heads down to the Primes’ “room”. The door is open, and Martin can just faintly hear Jon Prime’s voice. It’s too low to make out the words, but when he cautiously pokes his head around the doorframe, he sees the Primes sitting up against the wall of the room, their battery-operated camping lantern lit and casting a soft golden glow over the pair of them. Martin Prime’s head rests on Jon Prime’s lap, and Jon Prime absently tangles the fingers of one hand through his curls. In his other hand he holds a book, and he’s reading aloud in a low, soothing voice. Martin almost wants to duck back out again, sit on the floor outside the room, and just listen for a little while.

But Jon Prime glances up as he turns a page, sees him, and makes a small noise of surprise. “Martin. I didn’t see you there. Is everything all right?”

“M-maybe?” Martin feels his cheeks go hot. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I—”

“It’s fine,” Jon Prime assures him. He keeps his voice low, and Martin wonders if Martin Prime is asleep. “Come on in. What time is it?”

Martin points his torch at his wristwatch, just to be sure. “Almost one in the afternoon. I just—it’s maybe not an emergency. I can come back—”

“Sit.” Jon Prime sets the book aside and glances down at Martin Prime. “How are you, love?”

“I’m fine. It’s fading fast,” Martin Prime replies. He starts to sit up, but Jon Prime stops him with a hand to the chest. “Jon…”

“Relax. Rest. You don’t need to—you’re fine.” Jon Prime looks up at Martin. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, ‘course not.” Martin comes into the room and automatically makes sure he doesn’t shine the torch in Martin Prime’s eyes. “I just…I just wanted to let you know, I guess. Daisy just turned up.”

Jon Prime sucks in a deep breath. “Oh, God.”

“She’s just here to deliver the next tape, though, right?” Martin asks. Anxiety suddenly grips him. He shouldn’t have left the Archives, no matter what Jon said. “She won’t hurt him, will she?”

“N-no.” Jon Prime doesn’t sound too sure. “She didn’t hurt me this time around…not physically. But…in theory, yes, she’s just dropping off the next tape. I accidentally compelled a statement out of her—I hadn’t yet learned I could do that—and made her rather angry, but…well, let’s hope it won’t come to that.” He takes a deep breath. “Then again, she did encounter us. Who knows what she’s thinking.”

“Christ, I should’ve stayed up there. I-if Jon’s going to—God, he’s going to be exhausted after, and none of us are there to cut the statement.” Martin sucks in a breath. “And he’s alone, if she does anything—I’ve got to get back up there.”

“Go easy,” Martin Prime cautions him. “And don’t break the door to his office down. She might…you won’t be the one she takes it out on.”

Martin takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Um, d-do you two need anything?”

“Some paracetamol, maybe?” Jon Prime asks. “We’re getting low.”

Martin winces and glances at Martin Prime. “Migraines?”

“Mm-hmm. Hadn’t had one in a while. I kind of thought I outgrew them, but…” Martin Prime gestures vaguely at his head. “Been bad for the last week or so.”

“I’ll be back later with some aspirin,” Martin promises. “Works better for migraines. M-maybe some of that ginger tea, too? We’ve got a ton of it.”

“Thank you,” Martin Prime says with a soft smile. “Be careful.”

Martin hums in agreement, then heads back to the stairs.

By his watch, it’s been no more than five, ten minutes since he came down into the tunnels—not nearly enough time for Jon to take Daisy’s statement, and Tim and Sasha probably won’t even be back yet. He climbs the stairs, head bowed in thought, pushes the trapdoor open, and steps out into the Archives.

And flinches.

Elias—Jonah—stands next to Martin’s desk, hands clasped in front of him, patiently waiting. His piercing grey eyes are fixed on Martin as he stands, half-in and half-out of the tunnel.

“Martin,” he says calmly. “I wondered where everyone was. Surely you don’t all go to lunch at the same time—have you been exploring the tunnels on Institute time?”

Martin panics slightly. He swallows hard, and he knows his knees are shaking as he climbs out and lets the trapdoor close behind him. “I-I came back from lunch a bit early to take a phone call. Jon told me t-to go ahead and take the rest of it once the call was done.”

“In the tunnels?”

Martin swallows hard. He’s usually fairly good at coming up with a plausible lie to cover something he shouldn’t do, or at least of distracting people from the fact that he needs to lie. But somehow, he doesn’t think he’ll manage it. Not completely.

“I’ve—I’ve been putting some things together,” he says. He manages to take a step closer, then another, until he’s by his desk and not far from Elias. Definitely closer than he wants to be, but it seems important that he do it like this. “Making connections.”

“Have you now,” Elias says blandly.

Martin takes a deep breath. He’s got to give Elias just enough of the truth to make it plausible, but not let on how much he knows, and most importantly, he can’t let Elias know the others know, too. “I’ve been thinking about the statements. One in particular. That woman who ran into Gerard Keay and the—the burn victim. There’s something he said to her, something I can’t stop thinking about—‘For you, better beholding than the lightless flame.’ I wondered what that meant, and—and then I started thinking. You know, I-I feel like—we all feel like—we’re being watched a lot down here, a-and I know it’s not CCTV or anything because there aren’t any cameras down here, but that’s what it feels like—like someone’s peering over our shoulders all the time. And that statement had a lot of eyes in it, you know? There was even an eye pressed up against the camera for just a minute on the footage we looked at.” He swallows hard. “When I go down in the tunnels—I don’t feel that. I can think down there, because I don’t feel like someone’s looking at my thoughts a-and judging them. It’s not just the woman’s imagination, o-or a crazy delusion. There is something that watches us. It might even be called the Beholding. A-at least, that’s what I’ve been calling it. And it’s here. I think it’s watching the Institute. All the time.”

There’s a brief silence, during which Martin swears he can almost hear the Eye blinking. It’s fond of you, Martin Prime said, way back in the beginning of all this, and Martin desperately hopes that’s true. Or at least that it’s fond enough of him to keep Elias from knowing how much he’s withholding. Then, suddenly, he realizes that’s going about it the wrong way and starts instead hoping that the Eye is curious enough about how this interaction will play out to keep Elias from knowing how aware the Archives team is.

“That’s very clever of you, Martin,” Elias says after what’s probably no more than a second, but feels like an eternity. “How long have you known all this?”

Not thought you’ve known, Martin notes. Known. Interesting. And frightening. “A while. At least since the Jane Prentiss attack. I-I was alone a lot, I had time to think, so…I did.”

Elias hums slightly. “I see. And what are you going to do about it, exactly?”

“Wh-what? I mean…” Martin flounders slightly and casts an involuntary glance in the direction of Jon’s firmly shut office door. “I-it’s not like I can—what do you mean?”

“I mean, Martin, do you intend to keep this knowledge to yourself?” Elias lifts an eyebrow. “Or do you plan to tell Jon?”

Sadly, there’s no right answer to this question. Martin tries to summon up his train of thought from back when Martin Prime first started telling him about all this. What would he have done if the Primes hadn’t been there to tell Jon? “I—I have to. He gets upset when we keep things from him, a-and he’s paranoid enough as it is, so if he thinks I’m keeping secrets…I promised I wouldn’t anymore. W-we all did.”

“Of course.” Elias’ voice drips with soothing insincerity and makes Martin’s skin crawl. “Will he believe you, though?”

“I’ve got—I can show him the connections I made,” Martin says. “He can be a bit skeptical sometimes, but he’s not stupid. A-and we’ve all seen enough, done enough, between Jane Prentiss and the couple of things we’ve been able to verify and—I at least have to try.” He swallows. “I don’t think he’ll be skeptical about this.”

“No,” Elias agrees, which surprises Martin. “I don’t suppose he will. And I’m sure your evidence is very convincing. But what will you do if he doesn’t believe you?”

Martin licks his lips and tries to shrug. “Protect him, I guess. As best as I can. If I’m right, he’ll find out the truth eventually on his own.”

“Oh, you are.” Elias’ frank admission makes the breath catch in Martin’s throat. He expected Elias to prevaricate, or attempt to convince him he was imagining things, but…no, no, this is definitely more frightening. “You’re absolutely right, Martin. And I’m sure, as smart as you are, that you’ve gone over a number of other statements beyond Ms.—Saraki’s, was it?—and found even more connections to support your theory, so you know this goes well beyond the Institute.”

“I-I…yes?” The more Elias agrees with him, or seems to praise him, the more frightened Martin gets. Which is probably the point.

“Mm. I wonder, though, if you really understand the implications of what you’ve discovered. There is so much more to this than you realize, Martin, and I wonder if you realize how harmful telling Jon would be.”

“Why? Because he’ll ask the wrong questions?” Martin asks before he thinks about it. “If Jon—he won’t quit or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not now. He’ll, he’ll look into things, start investigating. If I don’t have answers for him, he’ll try to find them on his own—that’s not a bad thing. What do you think will happen if I do?”

Elias jerks his head back slightly a split second before Martin tastes the static on his tongue and realizes what just happened. He tries not to let it show on his face. He’s fairly certain he isn’t supposed to know about that, and there’s no reason anyone would suspect that the Beholding gave them spooky knowing powers. Certainly he’s not supposed to have them. Hopefully his reaction doesn’t show on his face.

It doesn’t seem to. Elias gathers himself quickly. “You’re getting emotional, Martin. Just calm down.”

Martin isn’t sure if he’s relieved or alarmed that Elias seems able to resist his compelling. Then again, he’s not all that powerful. “I’m not emotional! I-I’m just—I was asking.”

“Of course Jon will try to find answers. But please understand that some of those answers…may not be in his best interest. Or yours, for that matter.” Elias leans slightly forward and meets Martin’s eyes. “Allow me to give you an example.”

Martin can’t stop the frightened gasp that rips itself from his throat as Jonah’s—there’s no denying in this instant that they belong to Jonah Magnus—eyes bore into Martin’s. The world seems to go black and white with a green wash and fill with static, and the thoughts fill his mind, thoughts and sights and memories not his own—

Her name on his lips is almost like a curse, and she lets one of her own fall as she sets aside the can and looks into those eyes, and she needs no prompting from the Eye to know what he has come to do. Even as they talk, as they both try to taunt each other and figure out who has the upper hand, she reaches into her pocket and fishes out the lighter, Gerard’s lighter—she never should have left the boy behind, but maybe it’s better this way—flicks it on. One little spark, and it will all end for him. But he reaches into his own pocket, pulls out a dark and ominous object, primes it, aims it at her. It comes to this, to which of them can ignite faster. She dares him to do it. He fires. She feels the impact, gasps and collapses, and for a moment, she wishes she had made other choices, she wishes—but no. She is dying, but in all she has done, she has kept safe that which she swore to keep safe. Still. She thought it would hurt more.

—and the color rushes back to the Archives, all the grey sucking into Jonah’s eyes as he blinks and straightens back up, adjusting his suit jacket with an imperious tug. Martin is pressed back against his desk, clutching it behind him with both hands and barely keeping from crumpling to the floor. His face is wet and his breath coming in short pants and gasps, and he realizes he’s sobbing, not sure if it’s with sorrow or fear. Maybe it’s both.

“Knowledge can be dangerous, Martin,” Elias says, as calmly as if he hasn’t just made Martin experience the death of a fiery old woman from inside her own head, at the hands of the man in front of him. “Do keep that in mind.” He turns to walk away, then pauses and glances over his shoulder. “Oh—and I would be cautious who I shared that knowledge with, if I were you. Jon isn’t the only one who would require proof, and I rather think Detective Tonner might have cause to suspect you had…ulterior motives in making such a wild and bold claim without evidence to back it up.” With that, he strides out of the Archives.

He passes Sasha coming in on his way out, or at least Martin’s pretty sure it’s Sasha; all he can see right now is a blur as he tries without success to get his sobbing under control. It’s definitely Sasha’s voice that speaks next, sounding worried. “Martin?”

“I—I’ll be right back,” Martin manages to choke out. He turns and bolts blindly from the Archives in the direction of the washroom. Once there, he locks himself in and slides down to the floor, buries his face in his arms, and cries.

It’s one thing to know Elias Bouchard murdered Gertrude Robinson. It’s another thing to experience it, to feel her dying moments imprint on him—what she felt in the moments leading up to it. And now he knows what it feels like to be shot, wonders if it felt like that for Martin Prime. God, he hopes he never has to deal with that again.

He takes a deep, shaking breath as the sobbing finally subsides and wipes at his face, then gets up to wash the tears and snot off. Once he’s done, he studies himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes are reddened, his skin bears the too-shiny look of being freshly scrubbed, but it’s the best he can do. Hopefully it’ll be enough. He takes a deep breath and heads back into the Archives.

He gets there just as the door to the main corridor slams, making him jump. From the fact that Jon is frozen halfway across the Archives and Tim is over by their desks with Sasha, Martin guesses it’s Daisy leaving. Jon sighs and runs a hand through his hair, then turns and freezes. “Martin! Are you all right?”

Tim turns, his face creased in concern, and takes a step towards him with his arms already stretching out, but Martin shakes his head quickly. “Don’t—not right now. Please.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want a hug. He does, desperately. After what he’s been through, he can admit what he shied away from when he first went down to the tunnels—that the safest place in the world is in Tim and Jon’s arms. But he also knows that if he gives in and lets either of them touch him right now, he’ll fall apart. He’s just managed to get himself back together, and they still have half a day to get through, somehow.

Sasha holds out a mug—his mug, or at least the one he usually uses, the cobalt blue one with the raised pattern that looks like a cable-knit sweater, which happens to match the one he’s wearing today—brimming with tea. Martin accepts it with quiet thanks, then manages to sit down before he falls over. Tim pulls out his chair, turns it around, and straddles it, resting his chin on the back; Sasha sits down at her own desk, but doesn’t fire up her laptop yet. Jon hovers nearby, his face creased with anxiety and exhaustion in equal parts. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Martin lies. He’s never felt less fine in his life, but he’s also not sure Elias isn’t listening; even if he’s not lurking right outside the Archives, he could be watching Martin, waiting to see how he’s going to bring up his “theories”. “I was—exploring the tunnels. While you were talking to Detective Tonner. Sorry for sneaking around on you.”

Jon looks confused for a split second, then suddenly seems to understand. “Well, it’s not like I haven’t been down there myself. We all have. In fact, I think we’d best just leave the trapdoor unlocked in the future. I’d like to have a complete map of it anyway. But please, all three of you—don’t go down alone. Certainly not without telling anyone. Take a companion if you feel the need to explore.” He slides off Martin’s desk. “Tell you what. Why don’t we all go down there right now? There’s nothing going on at the moment. We’ll take an hour and look around a bit. Together.”

Sasha grabs a piece of paper, writes BACK IN 60 MINUTES on it, folds it into a tent, and leaves it up on their desks, then gives Jon a charming smile. “Just in case Elias comes down to visit.”

“Right. Bring your tea, Martin, come on.” Jon strides briskly over to the trapdoor, which Martin didn’t lock when he came out.

Tea. Martin opens his desk drawer and pulls out the bottle of aspirin he keeps there, slips it into his pocket, and grabs the box of ginger tea off their station before following the others down into the tunnels. Tim waits for him at the foot of the stairs, makes like he’s going to put his hand on Martin’s back, then evidently remembers his earlier request and instead takes the box of tea out of his hands. Martin nods gratefully.

The door to the Primes’ room is still open. Jon pokes his head in the door. “Sorry to bother you, but I didn’t want to wait until after hours.”

“Two visits in a single day. I’m honored,” Jon Prime says dryly. He’s smirking a little, but his expression falls when he sees Martin come in the room. “I am now concerned.”

Tim hands over the box of ginger tea. “That makes…four of us. Five if Martin Prime there wants to join in the concern.”

“Sure. I love worrying,” Martin Prime says, his head still resting in Jon Prime’s lap. “I’m guessing it’s not your Jon we’re worrying about? Unless he’s more upset by Daisy’s statement than you were.”

“No, it’s Martin,” Sasha replies. “I came back from lunch just as Elias was leaving and Martin was—” She catches herself.

“Having a bit of a breakdown,” Martin replies softly.

“Oh, God. Already?” Martin Prime sits up abruptly, then winces, evidently regretting it.

“Have a seat. All of you,” Jon Prime instructs. He studies Martin in obvious concern. “What did he say to you?”

Martin pulls the aspirin out of his pocket and shakes it once before handing it to Jon Prime. “It’s…I don’t know where to start. He was waiting for me when I got out of the tunnels.”

Haltingly, clutching his tea in both hands and staring into its depths, he tells the others the whole story—Elias’ questions, his own half-truths. Sasha’s eyes brighten when he mentions accidentally attempting to compel Elias, and she turns to Jon Prime, whose lips are set in a thin line. He shakes his head. “I know what you’re thinking, Sasha, but it won’t work. He’s strong enough to resist you. I tried, once, with all the force I have…he answered me, but only because he wanted to.”

“So it’s like Zone of Truth? He can choose to fail the saving throw automatically?” Tim frowns. “That’s unfair.”

“Well, he’s had two hundred years to practice, Tim.” Jon Prime turns back to Martin, and his expression is grim. “I don’t imagine he was pleased with that. What did he say about that?”

“He didn’t mention it,” Martin replies. “I—I think I managed to not let on that I realized I’d done it? He just told me to calm down. Th-then he said…he said there were some answers that may not be in our best interest, and…” He takes a deep breath. “He showed me Gertrude’s death.”

“He what?” both Jons shout in unison.

Tim lets out a string of Italian hot enough to blister paint and starts to stand. Sasha grabs his pant leg and tugs him back down, but even she looks pale in the lantern light. “Showed you. How? Put the pictures in your head?”

“Not pictures. More than video, too. It was like…like VR, o-or—I don’t know how to explain it.” Martin’s voice shakes, and he has to set the tea mug down before he breaks it. “I-it was like I was Gertrude Robinson. I-I could, I could feel what she was feeling, I had her thoughts, a-and I was listening to her talking with Elias—with Jonah—a-and then he…she had a lighter, I think she was going to burn the Archives down, and he had a gun, and she was telling him to shoot her or leave her alone, so he did.”

Jon Prime closes his eyes tightly. “‘Thought it would hurt more,’” he murmurs.

Martin Prime rubs his chest absently. “She must have a higher pain tolerance than I do.”

“It wasn’t physical pain she was talking about,” Martin says. Something clicks into place and he knows it with a certainty he’s felt about precious little else in his life. “It was the emotional pain, the knowledge that she was dying, that her plan failed. That the Fears were still out there and Jonah’s plan could still succeed.” A stabbing headache, not quite a migraine but similar in intensity, hits him directly between the eyes, and he closes his eyes, rubbing at the spot.

“Christ, Martin,” Tim breathes. “Will you take that damn hug now?”

“Y-yeah.”Martin manages a smile as he opens his eyes again and Tim’s arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him close. Jon reaches over and grips his hand hard; Sasha rests a hand on his other arm.

“God.” Jon Prime looks shaken. He clutches Martin Prime’s hand like a lifeline. “I-I always just assumed…”

Martin shakes his head slightly. “From what I could feel, she was—there were some regrets, but I don’t think actually dying upset her all that much, and I think that kind of surprised her.” He sighs. “Not that I was doing all that great. A-and then it all stopped, and I just…I’m pretty sure I was crying before all that, but I hadn’t noticed. Elias told me that ‘knowledge can be dangerous’, and then said I should be careful about who I shared the knowledge he’d just given me with.”

Tim tenses, but Martin Prime just sighs. “In other words, he thought your first instinct would be to tell Daisy he killed Gertrude. Only there’s no proof for that, so she would have assumed you were covering up for Jon.”

“She said they know I didn’t do it,” Jon murmurs. “They got the CCTV footage cleaned up…”

“Then she’d have blamed me,” Martin says softly. “Not that I would have told her anyway. I’m not stupid. But—”

“But he knew that,” Sasha completes. “I bet he was trying to convince you to tell her. Put the idea in your head. Maybe he thought you’d do it to prove him wrong…”

“And then either you or Jon would get arrested,” Tim says harshly. “Or worse.”

“Probably worse,” Martin Prime agrees. “He—” He suddenly freezes, his spine stiffening. “Oh.”

“Oh? What ‘oh’? I don’t like that ‘oh.’” Tension creeps into Tim’s voice.

“Tim, have you—looked at anyone on the team?”

“L—wh—no,” Tim sputters. “You mean with my—? No! I promised I wouldn’t—a-and that’s, that’s invasive, I don’t—why would I do that?”

“Because I’m wondering how many marks you all have. Separately and individually.” Martin Prime takes a deep breath. “If Jonah knows your Martin is developing powers…”

“No,” Jon Prime breathes. “No, he—he wouldn’t, it won’t—it wouldn’t work that way.” He pauses. “Would it?”

“If they’re all reading statements? Why wouldn’t it?”

Martin feels the other three draw closer to him, all of them managing to huddle in a group together. It’s Jon who finally asks, his voice full of trepidation, “Why wouldn’t what work?”

Dread runs down Martin’s spine as Martin Prime seems to meet each of their eyes, despite his blindness. “If you all have roughly the same number of marks, and you’re all developing powers from the Eye…Jonah might be considering whether or not he has to actually use your Jon for his ritual. Or if he could use one of you instead.”

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #emotional cruelty cw #mind manipulation cw #canon-typical Elias Bouchard asshattery

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flowercrown-bard · 4 years ago

Text

The Boy who Ran: Chapter 3

Whumptober Prompt 4: Running out of time/ Collapsed

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geralt/ Jaskier

TW: Injuries (no detailed description)

Note: Sorry for the non-consistant formatting. I am new to sharing my writing on tumblr and it took me a while to figure out how to best title my works. I will keep this format for the following chapters. Also on Ao3

part 1 part 2

The realisation hit Geralt without warning. Jaskier was getting older. He wasn’t old yet, by any means - in fact he looked barely older than the day Geralt had met him - but he would be. Someday Jaskier would be old and he wouldn’t be able to travel with Geralt anymore as he had for the past decade.

They didn’t talk about it. Ignoring the inevitable made it easier to forget. Like a child ignoring their mother’s advice to put on a raincoat, he pushed the thought of Jaskier aging into the far back of his mind.

But every once in a while, he looked at Jaskier and was reminded of the storm that was to come. No matter how insistently he tried to push it away, the treacherous voice of reason always came back, telling him that one day he would lose Jaskier to the one thing Geralt wouldn’t be able to protect him from.

No matter how young he might look or act, Jaskier wasn’t immortal. How long had they travelled together? Not nearly long enough. Geralt had lived for so long that he had lost all concepts of how long it took for humans to age. By the looks of it, Jaskier was still young, but he wouldn’t stay this way. One day, he would turn to dust and the world would forget about him. Eventually his songs would fade and Geralt would bear the burden of his memory alone.

Why couldn’t Geralt have loved a mage instead? After almost losing Jaskier to a djin, he had tried, had done his best to love Yennefer. It would have been easier, safer to love her; someone he could spend the rest of his life with. Someone he wouldn’t have to outlive and bury.

But she wasn’t Jaskier. She wasn’t the bard who had a smile so bright it and boyish that it was hard to imagine him as an old man. Yennefer wasn’t the man with eyes that were of such an unnatural blue that time seemed to slow when you looked into them. Jaskier’s boyish laugh made it easy to forget, that he doesn’t have all the time in the world.

There were things Geralt wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, but he pushed it back, as though ignoring time would make it pass slower. Geralt would wait to say these things until eventually he would run out of time to do so.

Geralt watched the days, weeks, months race past. Telling Jaskier what he meant to him would make it real and so much more painful. So he he let time run out without letting the words he needed Jaskier to hear pass his lips.

The griffin’s claws sliced across Geralt’s chest, right in the moment, as his sword plunged into the griffin’s.

Geralt’s breath became shallow, as his sword slipped from his grasp, still buried inside the beast that now lay motionless on the ground. Without having any control over it, Geralt’s knees buckled. He watched with morbid fascination as the ground came closer and closer until he hit it with a painful thud.

He tried to push himself back up, but his fingers slipped on something wet that made the fallen leaves slippery. Blood, his brain provided helpfully. Too much blood. He felt his heart pump it out of his body, heard it rushing in his ears

How often had he returned to camp, covered in monsterblood to find Jaskier complain about how gross he looked? A broken smile cracked Geralt’s lips. Every time, Jaskier’s eyes would soften and he would take care of Geralt, despite his complains and snarky remarks making sure that none of the blood was Geralt’s. It would be nice, if Jaskier took care of him like that now.

Geralt breath hitched. No, Jaskier couldn’t see him like this. He deserved better. He couldn’t watch Geralt die. It was Geralt who was supposed to outlive Jaskier, who was supposed to live with the burden of his death.

How could he have been so foolish to allow Jaskier to follow him on his hunts? No, not allowed. Geralt had pushed him to be there after the incident with the forktail, so he would be able to protect the bard.

There had been a reason why Geralt had initially hesitated to let him near him while he fought. Hunting was dangerous. For years, Geralt had been worried that Jaskier might get hurt, but he had always been able to protect him from the worst, from vengeful husbands, from his own damned djin wish, from any monster that had dared attack him.

Not once had Geralt imagined that it was him that would get hurt; that Jaskier would have to witness his death. He hoped with every fibre of his being that Jaskier still wouldn’t have to, now; that he had gotten bored watching Geralt fight and that he had left.

Naturally, destiny wasn’t merciful enough to grant Geralt his dying wish.

He heard Jaskier before he saw him, sliding down the small hillside to where he lay, calling his name. It sounded faint, like it was coming from far away.

Then suddenly there were hands touching him, pressing on his wounds, turning him around so that he lay on his back. Blue eyes filled Geralt’s vision and it felt like time had stopped, like he had an eternity left to live as long as he saw that endless blue. He could look into those eyes forever.

No, not forever. Time had rushed past and Geralt slipped through Geralt’s fingers. He needed the time. Days, weeks, months, years, all wasted.

With sudden clarity, Geralt knew. This was it. He had finally run out of time. He had let time slip by, days, weeks, months, years, until all he had left was this one moment. It wasn’t enough.

It was.

All he needed was one moment to tell Jaskier what he meant to him. He still had time.

But he didn’t have the strength. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

“Shh, don’t speak. You will be ok. I promise. You’ll be ok. I will – I will safe you. I promise.” Jaskier’s voice cracked. “Save your strength. Breathe.”

No, he needed to tell him. He couldn’t.

Something wet landed on Geralt’s cheek. It took him a moment to realise what it was. A tear. A strangled sob escaped Jaskier.

“You stay with me, you hear me?”

The pressure on Geralt’s wound increased, but somehow Geralt didn’t feel any pain. He didn’t feel anything. Except a strange tingling and the burning need to tell Jaskier what he should have told him years ago and that he now would never be able to say.

Geralt felt his hand getting lifted, felt Jaskier’s trembling hand on his, as he pressed his cheek against it.

“You can’t leave me now, Geralt. I haven’t told you, yet – I need to tell you…” His voice broke off.

No, it didn’t. His lips kept moving, but Geralt couldn’t make out the words. His vision blurred and the only sound he could hear was his own rattling breath.

As darkness took him in its cold embrace, he thought that maybe, just maybe Jaskier’s lips had formed the words he had been too much of a coward to say. What a sweet lie to put him to rest.

Everything hurt. Geralt opened his eyes for only a brief moment before he had to squeeze them shut, because of the blinding light. For a terrifying moment he thought he was back at Kaer Morhen, a young boy, waking up from his trials with eyes that were to sensitive.

The thought made it hard to breathe, the memories of the trials flooding back to him. He needed to ground himself, somehow. But the terrifying thought that he might still be in Kaer Morhen bound to the table where the experiments had been performed on him prevented him from opening his eyes just yet.

Instead Geralt felt around with his hands. He left out a shaky breath of relief. He was definitely lying on grass, though it felt dry and broke beneath his fingers.

Carefully, he opened his eyes again. It hurt, but at least it calmed his racing heart. Around him were not the stone walls he had seen after the trials, but trees gently swaying in the wind. But something felt off. It was warm, the air didn’t sting in his lungs like it would in winter. So why did the trees around him look like all life had been drained from them?

He let his gaze wander, hoping that something would jog his memory. The last thing he could remember was fighting a Griffin, falling to the ground and – Jaskier!

Geralt’s head snapped to the side, dreading what he would see.

There he was. Jaskier, without his colourful doublet, lying next to him on the ground.

His head was lolled to the side and the way his limbs were splayed out looked as though he had collapsed One arm was stretched out towards Geralt, as if the hand had lain on him and slipped off as Jaskier had fallen. If his chest didn’t rise and fall with a steady breath, he could have been mistaken for dead.

The longer Geralt looked at him, the colder the blood in his veins became. Jaskier was white as the pages he uses to write his songs on and he had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t rested in days. Dirt was stuck in his hair and there was a smear of blood under his nose.

Geralt’s stomach dropped, as he frantically scanned Jaskier for any injuries. What had happened to him? What had Jaskier endured while Geralt hadn’t been able to help him?

His racing heart only calmed down to its naturally slow rhythm, when he was certain that Jaskier wasn’t injured. At least not outwardly.

Geralt let out a strangled sigh of relief, made harder by something tight that was bound around his chest – the doublet Jaskier had been wearing.

Geralt tried to sit up to make breathing easier, but the movement only served to tug at his injuries. Before he could stop himself, he let out a groan.

He stilled at the movement next to him. The noise must have been enough to stir Jaskier awake. The bard’s eyes shot open and for a moment, he just stared at Geralt, frozen. His eyes lacked their usual twinkle. Instead they were dull, exhausted and bloodshot.

“You look like shit.” Geralt croaked out, throat dry from being unused for who knew how long.

This finally seemed to shake Jaskier out of his stupor. Jaskier scrambled into a sitting position, swaying slightly and wincing.

“Geralt!” he breathed out, relief flooding his features, but there was something shimmering in his eyes.

Geralt drew his brows together. Were there tears in Jaskier’s eyes?“You don’t need to cry over looking like trash.” The joke fell flat even to his own ears.

The smile Jaskier cracked held no humour. It was a pity smile at best and even so it was wobbly and faltered within seconds.

“I thought I had lost you.” His voice was small. Smaller than Geralt had ever heard it. There was nothing left of the confidence performer who had full control over his voice. There was only Jaskier, lost and broken over losing his friend. “I thought I wouldn’t be able to safe you.”

Geralt’s heart clenched painfully. “So what – you dragged me to a healer? Not even in death I can seem to get rid of you.”

“It’s not funny,” Jaskier said, dropping his gaze and avoiding Geralt’s eyes.

“I know.” Geralt’s tone became serious. Though it felt like his limbs were made of lead, he lifted his hand and took Jaskier’s in his. “Thank you, Jaskier.” For not letting me put you through my death. For giving me more time with you.

“Don’t thank me.” Jaskier looked down, at their hands and for a moment Geralt thought he would take his hand away, but instead Jaskier gave a little squeeze.

“But really,” Geralt said, looking around at the dead plants once more. “What happened here and why am I not dead?”

Jaskier winced. “What? Are you complaining?”

“Jaskier…”

“I guess you just got lucky.”

Geralt tightened his hold on Jaskier’s hand the tiniest bit. “You know you can talk to me. If anything happened – if anything hurt you – “

“I am fine.” he interrupted Geralt, but his words sounded hollow. Jaskier was very decidedly not fine. But even Geralt could see that he didn’t want to talk about what had happened, for whatever reason and he wouldn’t put Jaskier through even more distress than he already was in.

Jaskier must have sensed that Geralt wasn’t going to push the subject, for he bit his lip, hesitating before saying “I thought you were dead. I thought I had missed my chance to – “

Jaskier broke off, pressing his lips together. Geralt’s mouth went dry. He had wasted so much time. Life had been merciful enough to give him a second chance. Any yet -

“I remember you saying something, Jaskier. I don’t know what it was.”

Any yet he couldn’t do it. Because it didn’t matter how many monsters he fought, Geralt was a coward when it came to this, when the risk was losing his best friend and all the time he could have spent with him.

Jaskier’s breath hitched and his hand grew frigid around his.

“It was nothing.” he said too quickly and with a little laugh that held no humour. “If I told you, you’d probably go back to letting me think you’re dead just so you don’t have to deal with the emotional baggage. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

“What if I wanted to?” Geralt hesitated, his heart pounding painfully. “What if I would say it back?”

Jaskier’s eyes snapped back up to his face, darting between Geralt’s eyes, as if he was searching for something, maybe the tiniest glimmer that could give him hope.

“Then I would be in love with a fool who would have died without telling me.”

Geralt’s chest felt like it would burst, warmth spreading through him, as he took in Jaskier’s unsure smile.

“And I would be in love with an idiot who needed me to die to tell me.”

The small laugh that left Jaskier was the most beautiful thing Geralt had ever heard.

“Good thing you’re not really dead then. We have eternity left to tell each other.” Jaskier paused, smile brightening impossibly. And then he said it. “I love you.”

Jaskier was right, they had plenty of time. Geralt would not waste a single moment more. He would use every day he was gifted with Jaskier to tell him.

“I love you, too.”

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #running out of time #the witcher #fic #injuries tw #Geraskier #my writing #fae!jaskier #kind of

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itsblissfuloblivion · 4 years ago

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Torch - Chapter 11: July

you asked for it, we give it to you, don’t be mad...

Ao3//FFnet

Harry thought he’d been through quite a series of unfortunate events throughout his relatively short life, some that’ve left him feeling embarrassed and in need to crawl into a hole and possibly die, and others that have left him a heartbeat away from turning rogue and going after Voldemort guns ablazing. But this, Harry comes to accept, is the worst so far.

Not only did six other people suddenly become acquainted with his most...intimate parts, but two of them happened to be Fred and George. Judging by the grins they’re both sporting, Harry’s in for a hellish summer - or however long he’d be spending at the Burrow before jumping recklessly into what probably will be his death.

Later, when the firewhiskey’s numbed his heart, when he’s too tired and tipsy to scream at everyone and claw at himself to grip the pain and throw it out, Harry lets the images of Hedwig and Mad-Eye wash over him like muddy waters clashing against the shore. The two first soldiers of the war - and Harry wonders how many more there’ll be until a skinny, averagely skilled, not-special almost seventeen year old serves justice and catches the bad guy for good.

A bitter laugh rolls down his throat and Harry shakes his head in self-loath, marveling at how impossibly stupid everyone has to be to put all their trust in him.

Harry starts as he feels a small hand on his shoulder - Ginny’s. As she’d done earlier, instead of saying something or asking him what’s wrong, Ginny takes his hand as she sits down next to him on the front steps. And, like earlier, her touch has a calming effect on him, steering his thoughts away from self-destruction and towards the blissful, golden days they’ve spent together.

But most of all he remembers her as she’d been on their last shared moment, her sad eyes and her bare chest, giving herself entirely to him. And just like then, his heart battles his mind, takes it to a savage war where what he wants to do and what he must do almost blend in, blurred around the edges.

He remembers her standing before him, waiting for him to touch, to feel, to melt into her and he remembers that he couldn’t do it then. He can’t do it now either.

It’s as if Ginny reads his mind because she squeezes his hand tighter and, looking bravely into his eyes as her bottom lip quivers, she says, “You know, I’d really wanted...that to happen then.”

Harry’s breath catches and he nearly crashes his lips to hers, nearly loves her right there, on her parents’ front porch. But instead he mumbles, his voice too shallow to meet the unwavering courage etched in hers, “Ginny, I - ah. Please know that putting an end to this,” he gestures between the two of them, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows, “is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“An end?” Ginny lifts her brow, her brown eyes blazing.

“Yes. It’s how it has to be,” Harry retorts, his voice a little higher and he immediately hates himself for it.

“Why?”

“Because it must. Because you’re not safe if you’re with me. Because I couldn’t live knowing that they’ve hurt you because of me.”

Although he’s careful to keep his voice low, the words erupt like barks from his mouth, clipped and loaded with ill concealed anger. And when she starts protesting that she doesn’t care for her life, that she can take care of herself, Harry loses his mind for a moment and his vision darkens suddenly, he’s out of breath.

He’s astonished to discover that he’d gripped her shoulders sharply and had probably shaken her, the anger boiling in his chest taking over his actions. Ginny stares back at him for a moment, pained and shocked, then smashes her mouth onto his with such force it hurts them both. Harry’s arms immediately let go of her, falling limply at his sides.

She ends the kiss just as quickly and shoots him a look that Harry can’t entirely describe - a little wounded, a little cross, and most of all a steel resolve that sends him into a panicked frenzy because he doesn’t know if she’ll run after him, or fight her own battle or, the most terrifying of them all...if she’ll just forget him.

Ginny smacks the door behind her before he can get a chance to apologise for being a crass prick or ask her what she’d just decided. Sighing deeply, Harry admits he really does deserve the door smacking. Why did he ever think that this, whatever this was, could’ve possibly been better than admitting that he loves her, so much that he feels a big part of him is missing when she’s not there, so much that his heart is broken beyond repair.

Because he’s a stupid prat with a hero complex, that’s why.

“What’s with the face, Medium Sized?” Fred grins at him when Harry finally drags his feet back inside.

Harry simply flips him and starts climbing the stairs all the way to Ron’s room. He’s fairly certain there’ll be enough other occasions for Fred and George to take the mickey out of him on accounts of his physique, but today he’s just not up to it.

An unsettling thought crosses his mind before he drifts to what he has no doubt would be an unrestful sleep: being split into seven, even if by means of Polyjuice, appears to him not so different than what Voldermort’s attempted to do. It’s truly a thought that weighs tangibly on the self-hate load for many reasons, but most of all it’s the fact that Harry keeps finding similarities between him and Riddle every time he stops to think about it. And that makes him retch right there, near the camp bed he’d been sleeping on summer after summer since someone had seen enough good in him to have him rescued from the Dursleys - and, quite truthfully, from himself.

Somehow there’s not much opportunity for wallowing when he wakes up as Mrs Weasley seems to have devised the cleaning schedule from hell to keep them occupied and leave no room for mysterious plots to be cooked up between Ron, Hermione and himself. And honestly? Harry’s a little grateful for that.

The blazing sun overhead casts an orange glow behind Harry’s eyelids at the end of the day, warms the metal rims of his glasses where they press against his flushed cheeks. For a minute, while Ron and Ginny’s mingled laughter still colors the air and Harry’s breaths are still calming, it’s almost like he’s got a normal life again. Like the world isn’t silently waiting for him to take out a maniac they haven’t managed in two decades.

And for a minute, maybe more, Harry thinks he can let himself have it and forget about yesterday, forget about all the bad days he’d ever had. He’s already given up so much, is preparing to give up more when he heads out alone to finish what Dumbledore started, he lets himself be selfish. Only a little longer.

“Alright over there, old man?” Ginny’s voice calls out.

Harry cracks one eye open and finds Ginny smirking at him, hair wild around her face, braid half undone. “I’m just a year older.”

“A year is a long time,” Ginny shrugs and winks, “Grandpa.”

“Whatever happened to respecting your elders, then?”

Hermione returns from the house with lemonade in hand and a smile on her lips, “Are we back to this again?”

“Yes. Harry is an old man and I proved it by totally kicking his bum three games in a row.”

Harry pushes up onto his elbows and blinks slowly. “First, you’re a trained Chaser and I’m not. Second, Hermione was my Keeper. And we all know what that means.”

“Don’t be mean,” Ron puts in as he gulps at his lemonade, stray droplets falling over his cheeks. Hermione gives him an approving nod and that probably genetic Weasley smirk slides across Ron’s face, “Hermione can’t help being allergic to the Quaffle.”

“Oh bugger off, Ronald,” Hermione grunts, kicking Ron’s thigh as she claims a place in the grass.

Comfortable quiet falls over them, the trees in the grove swaying with the wind as it carries the scent of wildflowers over the yard. With the sweet tang of lemonade on his tongue, Harry truly feels a sense of relaxation, of contentment that people tend to associate with summer. It’s borrowed time he can't bring himself to give up.

As if Ginny can read his mind, as if she knows his overthinking, overworked mind is settling on its usual dark track, she nudges his side with the toe of her trainer. “So all I’ve heard so far is a lot of excuses, and I’m nothing if not an excuse eliminator.”

“That’s one thing to call it,” Ron snorts.

“Anyway,” Ginny says with a roll of her eyes, “How about we have a go with the Snitch. Although we’ve seen I’m no slouch as a Seeker either.”

Her eyes catch his and he knows they’re both thrown back to that day, the sunlit weeks that followed, the stolen time. And her smile is a little dimmed when she stands and offers him a hand up, “Let’s put you to the test, eh?”

It’s like she wants him to know she’s momentarily forgot about the day before too, about his words and about her pleas.

So Harry accepts the hand up and ignores Hermione’s pointed stare and mumbles about ‘idiots with self destructive tendencies.’ He has a sudden death challenge to win after all.

The Snitch is for practice, and probably older than any of the foursome, but it does the job. It’s a bit sluggish taking turns, so there’s an advantage to catching it there, but the old thing has no trouble darting off and hiding before Hermione’s finished her last eye roll aimed at Harry.

Ginny doesn’t need to take her eyes off the horizon for the trash talk to begin, mostly the usual shots at his age and eyesight. Ron likes a good gangly something thrown in there, but Ginny’s never been one for poking fun at Harry’s physique. In fact, she seemed to like it well enough - before Harry’s life kicked in with its usual ‘pull the rug out’ disappointing development.

They circle in the air for who knows how long and Harry gives as good as he gets, asking things like whether Ginny can find balls smaller than six inches wide. But when he mentions ‘balls’ Ginny gives him a dangerous look he knows means something scandalous is about to leave her lips - until they light in victory.

He twists quickly and finds the Snitch bobbing in the air, as if it’s about to flit over for a visit with Luna and her dirigible plums.

Though Ginny spotted the Snitch first, Harry’s definitely a few paces closer and he’s fast on the uptake so they’re basically neck in neck, screaming toward the little ball.

Ginny nudges his shoulder a bit with hers, no cobbing, but her set jaw and cheeky grin are just as dangerous. Harry’s so caught up he can barely hear Ron and Hermione’s shouts from below - who they’re rooting for is undetermined - all he knows is the push of the air against his ears, the pounding blood in his veins, and Ginny flying at his side like a comet.

At the last second, she lowers herself just a bit closer to the broom and slips past him so her fist closes around the Snitch. So last second in fact, that his hand closes on top of hers. He can’t seem to release his grip and Ginny doesn’t pull away, even as the wings flutter against their palms. “Gotcha, Potter. No flashy mouth tricks - just quality play.”

Her whiskey eyes find his and if he thought his heart pounded uncontrollably before, now it may as well be beating out of his chest. His thumb brushes over top of hers and it feels like all his insides are in his throat as he murmurs, “Nice catch.”

“I don’t know another kind.”

Somehow, his grip slides to her wrist and she’s released the Snitch to feebly fly over the swaying grasses. Then her hand is around his forearm and they’re breaths apart. “Ginny - ”

Whatever he was going to say, it’s now lost to the summer air as Ron’s voice sounds from below, beckoning them inside.

They spend the little time left of July planning and preparing for the moment they’ll have to leave everything behind, which, to Harry, is in a way exactly what he needs simply because it doesn’t offer much room to interact with Ginny. It’s odd how seeing her now makes his heart leap with happiness and then immediately twist with sadness and guilt.

Even though it’s hard not to catch her eye at dinner, especially when the table’s too packed with people, close members from the Order, and no one can notice. Or when little Gabrielle Delacour arrives with her parents and turns her Veela charm on Harry; the small display of jealousy from Ginny revives the old monster nestled in his chest, gives Harry an extra spring in his step for the rest of the day. She cares enough to show the rest of the world he’s off limits. Only Ron’s withering look wipes the stupid grin plastered on his face.

“Should I be fighting off smitten women having a go at you or is this a girlfriend only task?”

Harry stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder. He sees Ginny, her hair messily twisted in a bun at the top of her head, leaning against the doorframe of her room and staring after him intently. He also notices the puffiness around her eyes that makes the dark rings under them more evident. His insides churn painfully.

“I don’t think women have ever been smitten when it comes to me. I rather tend to attract the usual love potion spiked chocolates kind of people,” Harry shrugs as he fully turns around to face her, one hand gripping at the railing. He feels as though he needs to tether himself to something or else he might just run to her and take her in his arms and kiss her tired eyes till she’s sound asleep and safely pressed against his chest.

Ginny lets out a dejected chuckle, “Clearly you’re not at all familiar with Hogwarts bathroom talk.”

“Oh?”

“But it’s somehow so typical of you to be oblivious of your charms,” Ginny shrugs and Harry forgets himself enough to let a smile stretch onto his face.

“My charms?”

“I believe tall, dark and handsome were uttered here and there,” she smiles a bit as her eyes lock with his and instantly a series of intimate moments they’ve shared passes before his eyes. “But they’re all wrong.”

“They are?” Harry parrots stupidly, heat spreading all over his chest, his face, to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah,” Ginny nods and covers one arm with the palm of her other, brushes it from her shoulder to her elbow as her lips slightly quiver. “It’s actually your eyes. Good night, Harry.”

And just like that she twirls on her heels and closes the door right after her. Harry can hear the springs of the mattress lamenting faintly and tries with all his might not to imagine her crushed on her bed, crying.

He doesn’t even realise it’s his birthday until the sun shakes him out of the poor sleep he’d managed to get once his mind got too tired of playing thousands of different versions of how he might die, how we might bring sorrow and death upon others, all peppered with instances of Ginny crying.

Huh, at least now he can do magic without being traced. Cheers to surviving this long and successfully eliminating the option of rotting in Azkaban every time he feels like actually being a wizard.

Harry gets to enjoy a bit of lightheartedness and bask in other people’s relationship problems when Ron gifts him a book essentially on how to pick up women and not long after Hermione publicly announces she’s about to pack Ron’s pants as soon as they get out of the washer. Unfortunately, he can’t share neither of those moments with Ginny as she’s not there…

Soon enough he locates her when she calls him to her room and Harry steps inside aware of his faint trembling. He comments on the view from her windows and she ignores him, like she should. Who’s invited into their former girlfriend’s bedroom and steers the conversation towards scenery?

A bloody idiot, that’s who.

She mentions Veelas again and his head starts spinning as Ginny looks at him with that blazing look on her face and it’s then when he knows it’s simply become impossible for him to step back. Harry kisses her as fiercely as she’s kissing him, ready to go where he’d previously forbidden himself to go with her, no longer able to control his mind, his body, its reactions to her. Harry’s ready to give himself away completely.

But before the thought of locking the door can cross his mind, before he can take this any further, the door bangs open and they break apart. Lust turns to anger and anger turns to guilt in Harry’s mind as he promises Ron he’s done, he’ll stay away, he’ll will himself to stop. He can’t keep doing this to her, he must never do it again.

An image of Ginny happily in love with another man invades his mind for the rest of the day, obsessing him, torturing him, the faceless man telling him nonchalantly that ‘you’ve lost her, mate’ as the two of them kiss deeply and turn their backs to Harry. They’d never could’ve had a future anyway...

#itsblissfuloblivion #itsblissfulbolivion writes #itsblissfuloblivion writes torch #harry potter #Harry Potter x ginny weasley #ginny weasley #Hermione granger #ron weasley #torch July chapter #canon compliant #hbp missing moments #hurts so good eh?#fightfortherightsofhouseelves #gryffindormischief

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geethedentist · 4 years ago

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The Sassenach Warrior

Catch up with Chapter 9 here and read this chapter on Ao3!

Chapter 10: Honorary Scot, Official Jacobite

“Claire?”

My first instinct was to blurt, “Shit!” and jolt three feet into the air. So concerned with poking all my bumps and trying to stop the blood from leaking down my face, I had allowed someone to sneak up on me. I still hadn’t turned around. Maybe I had finally gone insane and imagined the voice, God I hoped so.

“Claire it’s almost dawn, what the hell are ye doin’?”

“I … How long have you been standing there?” I had finally turned to face him.

Angus crossed his arms. His boot began tapping on the ground. “Long enough to ken you’ve just done something incredibly sneaky … and I’d wager this isna the first time.” He would have taken on the air of a disappointed parent, had it not been for the confusion and blatant curiosity also present in his expression.

And just like any manipulative schemer would do, I turned it around on him. “What were you doing out before dawn? You all love to accuse me of being shifty, so let’s hear it!”

“Claire, ye ARE being shifty!” He almost shouted at me. “And for yer information I was visiting with Margaret, since we’re leavin’ soon.” His cheeks turned light pink.

Oh yes, his big breasted friend. How horribly anticlimactic and boring. I supposed telling him I went for a walk was not even worth the breath.

“And Christ, what happened to yer face?” Now he mentions my face.

“I um … fell?”

He gave a short laugh and shook his head. “I ken I’m not terribly bright Claire, but ye insult me so. If I ken but one thing about ye, it’s that ye did not maul up yer face because ye fell.”

His eyes fell to the skin just below my elbow and they popped wide open as he quickly grabbed it and shoved my own hand into my face.

“Is that a bite mark?!”

Oh dear. Any chance of lying my way out of this was quickly dissipating, not that I had had a good shot in the first place. They were in fact, teeth marks. Small indentations lined the top and the underside of my arm; they were an angry red color, and quickly becoming tinged with purple. I inspected them more closely. It seemed that my opponent had extremely crooked teeth.

“Um yes, but …”

“Are ye drunk?” He cut me off.

I crossed my arms in defiance. “Well not to brag but I don’t need alcohol to do things that I’ll regret.”

He looked at me long and hard, his hand scratching at something underneath his beard. I had been edging my way towards the door, although I knew I would have to demand his silence somehow.

“Oh no Claire, if ye dinna tell me what ye’ve been doing, I’m going to make sure everyone in this whole tavern knows ye’ve been running late night errands.”

“All right all right!” I said quickly to shut him up. “But nobody knows and it better stay that way.”

“Can I be there when ye tell Dougal and Jamie that ye fell?” He smirked.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance and I jerked him into the stables. Brushing stray hairs out my face, I winced as some of them caught in the mass of curdled blood on my head.

“I’m going to tell them I fell, and you are going to back me up. Got it?” I hissed in his ear. “Now if you insist on knowing where I went, I had been fighting in the ring for the past week or so. Gavin has been paying me.”

Angus’s eyes popped open again. “That’s why ye’ve been keeping us away from there!” It was then he heard the jingling in my pocket. “Jesus how much has he been payin’ ye?”

“Enough.”

“Ye’re going to run. Aren’t ye?” An unnecessary question really. They’ve all known this from the second they met me.

“That’s … I … Dougal has all of it. For the Jacobites.”

He softened a bit. “But why?”

And the words came gushing out of me. “Because I want my damn ring back and I want to get as far away from Dougal as I can. All of the mistrust and all the shite I get for being English is quite honestly draining me. I want to go home.”

Home.

I shouldn’t have used that word.

You are an outlander no matter where on this earth you think you can run to.

I sat down heavily. “But that’s the thing. I’ve spent years as a ghost and I don’t even know where home is anymore, I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be doing. I thought I did. But the fighting, it was like medicine to me, it makes me feel passionate, it makes me forget. After we leave this town, nothing is going to change. I feel trapped. Directionless.”

It was true. It was as if somebody plucked me from Uncle Lamb’s side and plopped me into the middle of a vast ocean. I could stay afloat but for what? Everywhere I turned there was a huge expanse of nothing.

Angus sat down next to me. “Can I tell ye something? For what it’s worth, I trust ye, and ye look right at home, covered in blood and stinking like a man.”

I gave him an honest smile, “Thank you.”

“But what about …” Angus closed his mouth and scooted away. Clearly what he about to say might result in my elbow colliding with his ribs.

“What about what? Jamie?” I answered harshly. “What about him?”

I don’t know why his question made me bristle as much as it did, and what I said next did not improve matters in the slightest.

“Please don’t tell him about this.”

He caught the note of extreme seriousness in my voice. “Aye.” Was all he whispered in return. I traced the path his eyes took, out the wide stable door and up to the candle in Jamie’s window.

Inside, he helped me clean the wound as quietly as possible, and we trudged up to bed. Stripping off my sweaty garments, I groaned as I tugged loose the strip of fabric I used to bind my breasts. I had tried a corset once, but declined to ever do so again in favor of proper breathing and being able to bend at the waist.

Knowing that I wouldn’t sleep, I still tried in vain. I supposed I felt better, but only in the sense what I was able to get everything off my chest and hear my feelings out loud. Angus was a good listener, but the conversation should have been had with Jamie, and there was no telling how that would have gone and who would have walked away hurt. Although it probably would have been both of us.

My body so desperately wanted to be unconscious but my mind wouldn’t let it. About two hours had passed and the first light of day gently lit the room. There was a soft knock on the door, and I heard Dougal’s voice from the other side.

“Get up, lass.”

Of course he’d be wanting the money. I hurriedly tugged on some pants and a shirt and grimaced at the blood stains on the pillow. Evidently I had been oozing. Opening the door halfway in an attempt to cover my face, I thrust the pouch into his hand. “I know it’s not as much as last time, I’m sorry.”

“Never mind that lass. Get yerself together. Yer comin’ on a little trip wi’ me today.” Then he briskly walked away toward the stairs. Clearly the matter was not up for discussion.

This is it. I thought as I retied the knot on top of my head. He’s gotten all the money he can out of me and now he’s going to take me somewhere and kill me. I quietly slid the small knife Jamie had left in my room the other day into my boot.

Not if I kill you first.

Up close and personal, no arrows. He’d never see it coming. I imagined how it would go down. He’d lunge at me, I’d grab his throat and press the knife into the very spot I knew would bring death. A slow death, but death nonetheless. I wanted him to watch me reclaim my ring and finally be free of him.

“So kind of ye to finally make it.” Dougal said when I reached the stables. He’d already saddled a horse for me. “Daydreamin’ up there?”

“Actually yes.”

He didn’t question me further as we set out. After riding in silence for about an hour I had worked myself up to the point where my hands were quite clammy and I was overly aware of the sgian dhu waiting in my boot. The tiny knife couldn’t have been more than one pound but it felt like ten.

The hilly moor began to give way to forest. My horse followed Dougal’s of its own accord, allowing me to slouch back in the saddle and stare off into space. The trees that blurred by were becoming denser, and something caught my eye. Someone had set up camp on a distant hill. Strange, the hill seemed to rise up relative to everything around it, why expose yourself like that?

Squinting and craning my neck back to the mysterious hilltop, it was enough for me to break the silence that had stretched for the entire ride. “What on earth is that?” I said it more to myself, but Dougal answered anyway.

“Ancient faerie stones called Craigh na Dun.” He sounded almost wary. “Used by our ancestors for rituals, and said to be a gateway between worlds.”

My mouth twisted. That concealed more than it illuminated. These Scots and their superstitions. I thought back to those wretched tea leaves and supposed anything was worth believing.

The gentle thump of hooves striking grass gave way to the sound of crunching leaves. Dougal’s head was turning this way and that. We were close to our destination. My muscles tensed further in anticipation. The small spring looked peaceful enough, but Dougal had succeeded in choosing a secluded place. Then the smell hit me, and my face involuntarily contracted. Rotten eggs.

Dougal caught it and laughed; I was not about to turn my back to him. “I ken it doesn’t smell like roses, but there’s a reason I took ye here.”

There must have been a reason. Why ride over an hour for a drink from a spring that smelled like hell? I stiffened. To conceal the smell of a corpse?

He stared at me for a long moment, eyebrows raised. “There seems to be a bit of blood comin’ out of that head wound ye still haven’t told me about.”

I started and then gently touched my fingertips to the wound in question. They came away bloody. “So there is.” I smiled sweetly. “Please excuse me a moment.”

Kneeling by the edge of the spring, I made sure to keep him in my peripheral vision. The water was cool and it had an odd slippery quality. Throat parched with nerves, I took a big swallow before proceeding to wash the cut. Bracing myself for a taste to match the smell, it never came. The water was crisp and pure. Face dripping, I turned to find Dougal staring at me with an odd expression.

I shortly exhaled through pursed lips, causing the water to spray outward. “What?”

“I’m going to ask ye once more.” He said, tone turned quite serious. “Are ye a spy for the English?”

I stood up and crossed my arms impatiently. “For the final time,” I seethed, “I am not a fucking spy! Are you going to tell me why you’ve taken me here?”

His eyes narrowed as he sneered back at me. “Are ye going to tell me what’s happened to yer face? Or do I have to attend one o’ yer fights to get a better idea?”

I would have liked to maintain a cool, collected expression at this remark. I also should not have been surprised at Dougal’s knowledge of my clandestine activities in the slightest. My eyes had widened nonetheless and he laughed humorlessly.

“Angus …?” I said weakly, although I already knew it wasn’t him.

“Angus didna tell me ye wee dolt. Gavin did when I collected the rent from his family’s farm.”

“Ah.” I breathed, weaker still. It seemed I had failed to discuss the secrecy of my appearances with my sponsor. So Dougal knew my plan. He’d taken me here in order to kill or threaten me, thus preventing my escape and subsequent report back to my imaginary English superiors.

He had turned his back to me before he resumed speaking. “Ye’re verra messy, Claire.”

His back thus turned, I saw my chance. Of course the leaves underfoot would make sneaking up close difficult. A charge then, and a quick jab in the kidney. My heart instantly began pounding.

He was shaking his head and laughing, genuinely this time. “Verra messy, not to mention clumsy. Ye’d make a terrible spy, and I’m sorry its taken me till now to believe ye.”

My hand froze on its way toward the knife. “Wait what?”

He tilted his head and regarded me with considerably less menace than he had in all the time I’d known him. “Well ye drank from the Liar’s Spring aye? And yer still standin’ here.”

I gawked at him. If it had been this easy I would have dragged him here a long time ago. Evidently this place was called St. Ninian’s Spring. Anyone who drank from it and then told a lie would meet a fiery end quite swiftly, what with the reek of hell so close by.

“Dinna look so relieved yet, I’ve a few more questions.”

I sat down heavily and looked at him with raised eyebrows and expectant annoyance. As long as I didn’t burst into flames, he’d be satisfied. And if I did? Well, he would probably still be satisfied.

“So ye really are a fugitive of the Crown?”

“Yes. It wasn’t just some cover up. Neither was the money I gave you.”

He nodded solemnly. “I must admit ye had me a bit confused when ye began yer … donations. Give me money and with it, a false sense of security and trust? Yer right clumsy Claire, but I wouldna put that past ye.”

Indeed. For that had been my plan the entire time. Or had it?

“So now you see why I kept the fights from you. To be caught sneaking off in the middle of the night?” I laughed ruefully. “You’d never believe me.”

He nodded again but there was a long pause before he spoke, very softly.

“Can I ask why?”

My teeth momentarily clenched together. Hard.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” The words sounded strained and dry, barely above a whisper.

The air shifted; a chilling breeze blew tiny ripples across the stinking pool. Dougal had turned, and was staring at the wall of boulders on the side of the clearing. But he was seeing something else.

“You’ve seen his back.”

I inhaled sharply, and that was all the encouragement he needed to continue.

“I was there, ken.”

Whether I offered a response or not didn’t matter, for he meant to tell the tale either way. I found that my hands had clenched themselves tightly together. I did not want to hear this. I couldn’t. It felt like a betrayal of Jamie’s trust from when he first showed me the scars. But I had to.

So I listened to how Jamie and his still raw wounds were paraded out of his cell at Fort William. I imagined Jack Randall’s eyes lighting up upon seeing him. I imagined the cords of Jamie’s neck taut with pain as he attempted to remove his shirt, which Dougal had described as barely more than a rag and almost completely crusted with the red-brown of dried blood. Jamie had carefully folded it as if it were made of silk, his last shred of dignity. And he meant to keep it. Hearing this part of the story almost wasn’t as bad as the flogging itself. He had hung unconscious by the wrists for the latter half or so, unaware of Randall’s deranged face behind him, splattered with Jamie’s blood.

When his account had ended, my shoulders slumped and a shaky breath rattled out of my mouth.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I ken ye care about Jamie and I ken ye care about Scotland.”

Perhaps I needed Dougal to say it before I truly realized it. Murtagh had tried to tell me as well. The truth was that I felt more Scottish than English, and I really didn’t want to leave my Highlanders. They looked out for me. I could be whoever I wanted around them, and it didn’t matter if who I wanted to be was a hunter and fighter . . . a protector. I wanted to be myself.

“Well ye’re already a fugitive aye? Might as well be full blown traitor while you’re at it.”

An unexpected laugh rose to the surface. “Do you know what? That doesn’t sound so bad.”

It was strange how nonchalantly I had made the decision to change my life. The first time had been an accident, but now I was the one drawing my own map. Scotland was flailing under England, and it had gotten worse during my short time here. I saw it everyday. Whether it was in the form of hunger, poverty, families being torn apart, or religious persecution, England was not just using Scotland for revenue. It was threatening their way of life, a rich and ancient culture that I respected and cared for very much . . . as much as I had resisted it. Then there was everything that had been done to Jamie, including double flogging and exile to France.

I supposed my deal with Colum was broken, as I had now effectively joined his brother in the exact kind of reckless acts he was looking to prevent to protect the Mackenzie clan.

“Why did ye no tell anyone the Crown was after ye?” His last loose end.

That was an easy one. “The fewer people that knew, the safer I felt. I’m sure you knew I had planned to leave your company as soon as possible, and I wasn’t looking to leave a trail leading right to me.”

He made a Scottish noise in his throat which I took to indicate understanding. The breeze had returned as we sat in silence for a while. Dougal purposefully rose to his feet, smoothed his kilt, and extended a hand to me.

“Welcome to the fight then, Claire.”

#Outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #outlander fandom #Jamie Fraser #jamie and claire #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #the sassenach warrior

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iam-kenough · 4 years ago

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Will you ever notice me? (Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character)

Summary: Dutch and his boys found a girl hidden inside wrecked shack near their camp. She introduces herself as Iris and starts leading outlaw life with Van der Linde gang, quickly developing feelings towards one, special cowboy. However there is big year gap between them and Arthur sees Iris just as a kid...And girl won’t take that!

Authors notes: I updated two chapters today and I hope few of those who read this story will be happy! It’s just another chapter and you can find the rest of them following masterlist on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction. Hope you gonna enjoy it! Words count:2921 Chapter 13 Arthur Morgan wasn't leading the best life. It was full of danger, stress and runaways. Man did many things wrong, not looking after Eliza and Isaac to start with, not learning a lesson to not fuck with young girls as it will ruin their life. And there was Arthur, clinging onto memory of his last fallout with Iris. It was something horrible, something that dragged him down for couple days now. Arthur really wanted to talk with Iris but every time he saw her alone, he couldn't. He had lump in his throat just by looking at girl and when was just sure about what he's gonna say, he forgot all the words. But maybe there were none? Maybe he fucked up another thing that was important to him and he had to cope with it? And finally, maybe it will be easier to shut her out?

She was sitting on the grass and washing up clothes, her hair falling onto her beauitful face. Arthur was worried that broken nose is gonna change her appearance but it was the same, it healed well and quickly as she had vigor in herself. Arthur started sketching Iris, hiding away from her gaze so he could memorize every of her feautures without being noticed.

She's leaving, he overheard, now for sure. The night after John's wedding she's gonna be long gone, moving to some big city. She's leaving even if only to became a waitress instead of robbing people and to live on her own.

All ideas he had were terrible. Arthur was thinking about stealing her money so Iris won't be able to leave so soon but he wanted her to stay and love him, not just make her life more miserable. He noticed piece of his own face reflecting in the mirror that he usually used for shaving and he felt disgusted with himself, putting object face down. Arthur overheard her sobbing in a tent one night and that was it. Do or die - Arthur said to himself, because if he's gonna leave her like that in this very moment, he's gonna become even worse cold motherfucker.

Cowboy peeked inside between two flaps and found Iris lying on the bed, makeup running down her cheeks, visibly drunk. She haven't notice him at first. She was holding a letter and one of he's shirts, cuddling with it.

- Can I come in? - he felt like an idiot even for asking that, knowing the answer. But there was still a blink of hope, right? Iris looked stuttered and embarassed when she noticed his presence but then her features softened. She was drinking again, but it was different. Iris got sentimental today rather than furious or playful and Arthur knew the feeling, he was getting like this too whe he had too much.

Arthur rested on the cot, near to her feet. Without any thinking he started carresing Iris's leg. - I'm okay, not need to pity me - she murmured after a while, wiping tears away, turning face into opposite direction from Arthur's gaze.

- You don't look like ''okay''. I feel like I can help even to pay for small piece of my faults...?

She was starving for his touch, that's why she straightened her legs so he would be more comfortable to reach them. They remained like this in another moment of silence, Arthurs fingers tickling girl's skin.

- Is that my shirt? - he asked, not getting the point of having it.

- Yes, I stole it from your tent last week. Yes, it might be creepy. But...I don't care what you think about me anymore - Iris mumbled.

- I ain't gettin' it, girl, it's just dirty shirt of mine - Arthur shaked his head, eyes widening.

- It's the closest thing to hugging you when I am drunk enough to fool myself it's you lying next to me. Helps me sleepin' too. Arthur rarely felt like falling apart to cry, but this was this moment. After all of that he was still in her heart and she associated him with safety. He decided he's gonna take a bit of luck and he aproached her slowly, takin' her into bear hug. Iris's hands curled around his chest in no time. Arthur was rocking her a little, stroking her hair and small of her back. Iris couldn't fight anymore, even she didn't have enough pride to push Arthur away and shut him out. Cpwboy was needed right now.

- What did I do to deserve it? - she whispered, her voice sad - I will do that again just to have you over even one more time in the future if you'd share this secret...

- You don't have to to do anythin'. I am the problem here, honey, not you - Arthur's voice was soothing as he planted kiss ontop of Iris's head.

- Arthur, I became homeless today - Iris suddenty changed topic, passing him a piece of paper. It was a poster with her face on it. "Iris Rhiannon/ from Van Der Linde Gang/ Wanted dead or alive/ 2000$".

- That means I have to take all money I saved and probably sell everything I own - girl said as noticed Arthur familiarised himself with poster - That thing I pulled out with the train couldn't work out without slapping me back. I should've know better.

- Iris, listen - Arthur cut in suddenly, maybe it wasn't the nicest but he didn't care, it was intentions that mattered now - I can help you.

- I'm not pregnant with your child anymore so there's no reason for you looking after me, Arthur. I'm gonna be fine... somehow - Iris hesistated like she tried to convince himself, not Morgan.

- You gonna be fine? Ah, goddamn, woman, don't try to be proud when you obviously need me! You can't even leave the camp now! - Arthur shaked his head, speaking impatiently but she backed off, visibly scared.

- Why did you come here yelling at me, I don't need you! - she pushed him away

- Jesus, I'm sorry - man lowered his tone right away - I just ain't gonna let it happen, money means nothin' to me now, okay? Let me save you - he demanded, cupping Iris's small hand with his bigger one.

Iris suddenly gave in and nodded, blushing briefly. Even if she wasn't thinking about accepting offer for real it was heartwarming and flattering that he tried to fight. Arthur decided he's gonna drink with her tonight, unless none of these words will come out. Man wasn't used to showing weakness, he'd rather be dominant asshole. So he took big gulp from the bottle, preparing for being more tender.

- If the bounty hunters are gonna come for you they won't simply kill you, they gonna take you to town and I'm gonna watch you hang, you know that? That's why I will help you and that's it. - he was giving her this fatherly speech, with low, demanding voice.

- Only if it'll make you feel better - Iris shrugged, tucking strand of hair behind her ear.

- It's not about me, Darlin' - he caressed girl's head, playing with one of locks - I will probably never gonna pay you back for my deeds so that's good start for me to be a better man, for you.

Iris took a place with her back against tent's wall and started looking at her nails with embarrassment. Her fantasies weren't going so far when she expected to see him, so now it was akward to sit next to him as all of those words didn't seem honest or true.

- Don't overthink it, even if it's gonna be only for now, 'kay?

- I guess you're right. If you are here, we could use this time better. They drank together that night and cuddled like they had no worries. Arthur was telling Iris stories about the craziest things he did with the gang so far, and she giggled, admiring he's composed face when he tried to collect thoughts to describe everything in best way. It seemed almost like they never argued, like man never hurt Iris so badly...like they were a real couple.

- That's why I don't like to see you risking your life. I was to close to dying stupid death many times in my life - Arthur said finally, eyes softing at sight of Iris's face.

- I kind of like it - Iris exclaimed and then she noticed how close to each other they were, their noses millimeters apart - I mean, the adrenaline rush - she finished slowly, looking at Arthur's lips.

Suddenly Arthur realized that if they would kiss he wouldn't mind. He smiled with charming manner and caressed Iris's arm, inhaling her scent floating in the air. She always smelled like honey and flowers.

Then their lips met, both surprised with reaction of opposite side. Arthur and Iris was kissing like they were starving and this act were supposed to feed them. Arthur started to purr like a cat, parting girls lips with his tongue, tangling fingers into her hair. Iris climbed on his lap right away, Arthur's hips between her tights as she was facing him and she deepened the kiss. They both started to sweat and their hands were running all around each other's bodies. Iris was trembling, melting away Arthur's body, playing with buttons of his shirt and with his suspenders. She moaned against his lips. It was hot, too hot and Arthur decided it has to stop or someone is gonna feel guilty in the morning.

- Iris, baby, we can't do that - he catched breath and tried to calm himself, ignoring her proximity and the fact he was horny as hell.

- Why? - girl asked, her face going sad and in pain in not time - I want you now...

- You just think you want me and I have one rule, I don't have sex when one of the sides is too drunk to decide about it properly - he explained, trying to look away from her cleavage right in front his eyes.

- What a gentelman you are - Iris said, backing off and resting on the edge of bed. Her back was facing Arthur right now. Girl was trying to collect her thoughts, surprised with an outcome of their actions but in very bad way. Like she was opening a present and there was nothing inside the box.

- I just don't want to use you, and-

- Just cut it. You don't want me and that's it - she shrugged, eyes pierced into the floor - but of course you don't.

- Oh - Arthur murmured to her ear, his warm breath ticklish- I want you more than ever, you can clearly see what you can do to me...

- If it was true you wouldn't stop. But it's all calculated, eh? Your feelings even don't behave like ones. You are... the coldest person I know.

- I would never turn you down, you know that - he started caressing her back with his lips, it gave Iris this weird sensation in her stomach.

- At morning when I saw my poster I thought I hit my rock bottom, but no. I did it right now - she giggled but there was nothing happy to it- I'm not even good enough for one night stand. I never expected being this low that man I consider as handsome doesn't even want to use me, hiding behind explanations. Guess life is full of surprises for me.

- How can you be like this? You want me to use you?! - Arthur was shoked and maybe even offened by the was Iris was thinking.

- I just thought for a moment it's somehow normal again. It felt normal, being like this with you. Don't bother yourself with any more explanations, please - Iris quickly wiped away her tears so he wouldn't see them - Goodnight, Arthur.

- Let me stay with you, please? - Arthur said with hope in the last word.

- If that's what you need - sgirl shaked her head with disappointment. Normally she would just chug on the bottle and fall asleep drunk but she just simply rested on the bed and curled up with his shirt. Arthur was unbelievable.

- I think that's what you need, eh, girl?

- I don't know anymore - she shrugged - But yea, stay. You are more than welcome.

Iris looked at him as he undressed to his union suit and she saw his chest peeking from between the buttons. She blushed and looked away. Arthur's skin was nicely tanned, soft and peppered with hair. Arthur run fingers through his hair and yawned. He looked incredible adorable when he was sleepy, 'cause it was one of those moments he fully let down his guard. She started feeling guilt, she had no right to have him and he was right turning her down. Iris suddenly appreciated the fact he lost enough time to figure out something smart and nice to tell her instead of that he's simply not interested in her anymore. Girl wouldn't sure if she would keep herself together if it were the words he would use. Real gentelman like Arthur wasn't meant for insufferable brat like her.

- What're you thinking about? - Arthur rested behind her back and closed the distance between them, Iris felt like wave of warmth is going through her body.

- Nothin' - she lied briefly - I guess... I'm too drunk to think. That's why I do that in the first place, I mean, drinking.

He hummed with aproval, burrying his face in crook of Iris's neck

- Wanna sleep already? This was a really long day for you.

It wasn't only guilt now, this feeling quickly mixed up with shame and realisation. They were lying in her bed, wearing only their undergarments and even in this very moment, he just cuddled her instead of tearing her apart like lover would do. Iris was no woman for him. Few minutes passed before brunette interrupted this tense silence.

- How are you feeling, Arthur? I mean, any coughing lately?

-...no. Surprisingly - he opened his eyes with realisation. He wasn't in pain anymore but lately so many things happened he couldn't even think about being sick. Untill now.

- Guess I did good. Feeding you with all those weird herbs back then - she stopped and collected her thoughts - I know you got TB. Or had it, as I see now, thanks to book you bought me for birthday.

Arthur got up quickly, his eyes full of questions. Like she just dropped the bomb.

- When you got back from being O'Driscolls hostage and I was taking care of you I noticed that you spit blood while you cough. I had to do something - she was playing with buttons of Arthur's shirt, the one she still cuddled instead of turning around to face him - Just wasn't sure it would work, so I observed you without letting you false hopes. But today I lie next to you and listen to your breath knowing I did good.

- You cured my tuberculosis?! H-how? I've been told I'm gonna die soon, so-

- And even with this thought you wouldn't have me tonight to be real gentelman, how sweet of you - she smirked and got up, grabbing bottle of booze from the floor - Goodnight, Arthur. Hope it's last time we see each other like this.

- Where are you going, eh? - Arthur got up and catched her arm, squeezing it. She hissed.

- Away from you, that's where. Everything you do is pushing me away and pulling me back when you have no one else to go, but...- she looked up into his eyes, those eyes devil would be proud to have and smiled sadly - I guess I can't do that anymore. Even if it means breaking up forever with you.

- What are you talking about, you can't just do that, you need my help! - Arthur spreaded his arms in gesture of disbelief.

- So give me it if it's really meaningless for you to pay two thousand dollars for my head. And then fuck off. But you wouldn't do that, will ya? You don't want to help me, you want to buy me so I'll keep meeting with you on those pathetic terms like nothing ever happened.

- What did I do now to deserve this? I am no saint but I came here today to help and all I get is this angry face of yours - Arthur's tone was showing visible irritation. Iris was the only person who could put him from peace to boiling anger in few seconds.

- Guess people don't work like that, Mr Morgan - Iris looked aside with unsure expression, like she was afraid to look at his face and see something in there - I still remember everything, despite fact loving you and... there will be a time for me I will have to run and don't look back. Not even after you.

- You still want to move? Even now? You are crazy, probably half of people around are waiting to catch you! - he gestured towards tent's entrace.

- So let them try, there is nothing much left of me anyway. You say I'm crazy pulling out stunts like I was a cat with 7 lifes behind my belt but no, I am doing that because I have only one and it's shitty as hell. Drink to that, Mr Morgan!

And with those words she left Arthur speechless, as he was looking after her silhuette fading away into the warm night.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan romance #arthur morgan fanficton #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fluff

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avaria-revallier · 4 years ago

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Chapter 6: Cooking dwarrows and poisoning trolls

The moment Bella sat down Dwalin was by her side. “Namad, here. Drink something. You must be exhausted. Have some of this too, you must eat properly. Bombur, how is that fire going?” The warrior fussed.

It had been adorable and sweet for the first week. The second week her mood dropped significantly. Now the third week had ended. The morning after her speech of home and family, after they had learned of how old she is, all hope was lost. They treated her like an invalid.

Dori snatched her pack as soon as they stopped for the night, preparing her bedroll next to Dwalin and Thorin.

This had become her spot now and Bella felt safe and secure yet a bit jumpy around their leader. She had to remind herself almost permanently that this is not ‘her’ Thorin. Despite the knowledge of this fact, her heart betrayed her and started to increase its beating from a steady thumping into a fluttering humming bird every time he was near or simply looked at her. Curse that traitorous heart.

Bombur wouldn’t even let her chop the vegetable, while Dwalin dragged her back to camp every time she attempted to sneak off to train. Fili and Kili avoided her completely, whispering behind her back and hastily shutting up when she strolled close. Oin came up every evening, determined to check for a possible injury. Bella wasn’t sure, how she would have managed to injure herself at all, with all those fussing dwarrows around but appreciated the thoughts. Nori took on her watch, grumbling something about her needing the sleep. She slumps down next to Ori. He was eagerly writing and sketching in his journal.

“Ori, would you be so kind and explain again the difference between those blue gem-types?” the young scribe beamed at her, closing the book.

He was the only one who didn’t treat her differently. Maybe because he knew all to well how it was to be the youngest. Dori fussed over him enough as it was. The pure thought of having to deal with ten of Doris kind… Ori shuddered.

“I would be delighted.” He started chatting away about mining and how the different gems where found in different depths and how the purity grade was determined.

Soon he noticed that the hobbit lass wasn’t really listening to him. She stared over to where the better part of the company was gathered. Following her line of sight, he spotted Thorin. The dwarven king was sitting on a fallen tree. He talked to Dwalin about something and frowned at his friend’s response.

Ori looked back at Bella. In her eyes gleams a sadness so deep Ori nearly flinched. A storm of sorrow, pain, fear and longing? raged in her green eyes, dying them nearly black. He had seen this before. In the eyes of the survivors of Moria. He reached out to her, gently touching her shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asks with worry in his voice.

Bella jumped, one hand reaching to her hip, as if she was to draw a sword. Oddly there was no sword on her and the dagger from Dwalin hang on the other side. Ori frowned confused. That might have been the reaction of a veteran warrior, but definitely not one of gentle folk.

“I … I am sorry. I think I… I need some time for myself. I won’t go far, I promise. I just need to think for a bit. Tell them… Tell them I won’t talk to them for at least a month if they come after me. I just – just can’t.” she choked, turning to hide her tears and slipped away.

This whole situation felt wrong. Bella couldn’t hold back the tears any more when she reached the forrest. The trees hummed comforting in the warm breeze. The company hadn’t cared for her before. She had been just dead weight to them. Another piece of luggage they had to look after. Dwalin hadn’t been that sweet and caring, Dori wouldn’t fuss and Bombur would hand her the odd jobs. Kili and Fili acted the same by now. It was familiar but hurt so much at the same time. Ori was her save haven as is Bifur.

The warrior wouldn’t fuss over her, just handing her a knife and a block of wood. Silently they would carve by the fire. Her sculptures were never really anywhere near identifiable, but he would just chuckle and let her try the next evening again. Thorin, well Thorin was another matter. He acted cold and distant. He would watch her with his indifferent expression but sometimes it seemed like he acted out of character. Neither the grumpy and brooding king nor the stoic and steeled warrior. He would be just Thorin, the blacksmith holding her heart.

The nightmares had returned. Every night when she closed her eyes the pictures of her bloodied dwarrows hunted her down. Empty eyes staring at her. Fili and Kili, Dwalin, Bofur and Bifur. Thorin. If she had been a little bit better at that time. A bit faster. Stronger. Even now they seemed to stare at her, reach out for her, calling.

‘It is your fault.’ They whispered accusingly.

Sobbing she sat down by a fallen tree. The earth under her bare feet pulsed slightly as if it wanted to tell her ‘do not worry, I am here’. The trees whispered stories of old. Small flowers tilting their heads towards the hobbit lass. The forest reached out to her, comforted her with its presence. The last rays of sunlight broke through the leaves, coating the lass and the flowers in gold.

Shaking she exhales. Crying had never solved any problems. Placing her palms on the grass she closed her eyes, focusing on the voice of the forrest. It told her stories of cold winters and the following spring as if it wanted to tell her all will be fine. After some time, she opens her eyes. A vast field of flowers surrounding her. Giggling she brushes away the tears. It would be fine. She would make sure everything would be fine.

Humming she picks some small blue flowers and a couple of daisies. Bella would put them into Dwalins beard once back at the camp. She would have to talk to them again. She is no invalid nor a child. She could carry her own pack, hold watch at night and most definitely chop the vegetables!

Happy with her choice of flowers, she had gathered some more for Ori to sketch, Bella decides to go back.

Loud, heavy footsteps, the distant splintering of wood and a painful scream of the forrest where the only warnings. In a matter of seconds Bella was swept off the ground. A surprised squeak sounded before the air was forcefully pressed from her lungs.

‘Snap’. The sharp pain followed immediately. At least one of her ribs was broken.

“Bert, Bert! Look what I found.” The trolls scraping voice rang in her ears.

“That’s not even a mouth full!” boomed the addressed.

“Is not for eating. I found it, so I keep it.” The first troll yanked her away from the reaching hands of Bert.

“And we feed it too? Don’t bother, better eating it now.” The third troll intervened.

“I, ah, I eat plants, so you won’t need to worry about feeding me.” Bella managed to say with a smile.

“See! No struggle at all.” The one holding her chimed.

Heavily he sat down, bringing Bella nearer to his face. He stank worse than she remembered. Something between rotten eggs and long forgotten fish. The stench stings in her eyes and nose. He poked her into the stomach, forcing the air from her lungs once more.

“Funny little thing. What are you?” he demands to know, poking her once more.

‘Smile. Ignore the pain and smile.’ Thousand thoughts are rushing through her mind. Bella couldn’t panic now. She simply refused to. ‘This is not right. Smile. They are early. We are not even at the farm. Gandalf, where is he. Thorin. It hurts.’

“I… I am a hobbit.” She managed to state.

‘Smile!’ With some effort the hobbit managed to force her lips into a polite smile, as she would gift Lobelia.

“I, well, I am a wandering cook. We hobbits are quite famous for our skills and our stew is to die for.”

“Bert look! I found us a cook!” the first chimed again, pleased with himself.

A large wooden spoon landed on his head. The troll flinched, tightening the grip around Bella. With another snapping sound a wave of pain flooded her body.

“Are you saying I can’t cook? A bit appreciation would be nice. ‘Thank you for the lovely stew, Bert. That was really tasty, Bert.’ But all you do is complaining, Bill.” He rumbled, swinging his spoon once again.

“Tom, say something!” Bill demanded, looking at the quiet troll.

“He’s right… everything tastes like mutton-“ he starts, ducking away as the spoon aims at his head.

“-except the mutton, which tastes like fish.” Finishes Bill.

“Shut your cakehole.” Bert grumbles, stirring furiously in the large cauldron. “We don’t have all night. I don’t fancy turning to stone.”

In her clouded mind an idea sparked. It might be crazy, but most likely better than the risk of breaking anything else. Bella shifted slightly in the grip of her captor.

“Excuse me master Bert? I can see you really did brew a very nice stew there. As I can tell, that you are an excellent cook. If I might suggest something that might be in your interest?” she smiled, clenching her shaking hands.

“What?” he boomed, not looking up from the stew.

“Well, I am really thankful for your hospitality and would love to repay you. My mother was rather famous for her gift. You see, she could brew a stew that held special effects.” Her heartbeat increased rapidly, waiting for his response.

“And what would that be?” he glanced at her, slightly interested.

“Ah, well… you see.”

“Yes? What is it?” Tom raised one eyebrow. She had the attention of the trio.

“This is a secret family recipe…” Bella watched them lean in to her.

“Spill it! Tell us about the secret thingy!” Bill demanded, shaking her impatiently.

“Yes, yes! The stew… the special stew makes you able to walk in the sunlight. You see, we hobbits just turn into trees when exposed to sunlight.” The lie easily slipped from her lips.

“Do you take is for fools, you little ferret? Trying to poison us, eh?” he booms, snatching her out of Bills hand and letting her dangle near the fire.

“N-no! Of course not. How could I ever be so impolite to my gracious hosts?” Bella forces herself to smile once again.

Her ribs felt like they where on fire and her feet where Bert held her began to turn numb. Small black dots invaded her sight, but she forced them back. She trapped her pain und unpleasantness inside a dark corner of her mind. It would be no help at all if she would faint now.

“Drop her!” now she even began to hallucinate. That couldn’t have been Kili, as he is safe and sound with the others.

“I said: Drop her!” the shouting was without a doubt Kili!

The next thing Bella remembers is being thrown through the air and landing on something oddly familiar. Kili had broken her fall, sadly Bella had broken something as well while colliding with his armor.

In a matter of moments, she was dragged behind a large tree and ordered to keep herself hidden. The battle didn’t rage for long. Once the trolls found out the dwarrows wouldn’t attack one of their own, they grabbed Ori by the arms and legs and threatened the company to lay down arms. Which they did. The trolls stripped them off their armor and clothes, stuffing them in sacks and piling them like presents under a Christmas tree.

“Where did you throw her? I quite liked that pet. She was funny.” Bill pouted and promptly earned a whack from Bert.

Creeping forward as silently as she could, Bella made her way towards a large boulder. Between the others she could spot Thorin, Kili and Fili. Dwalin was not far and Ori was still a bit green around the nose. Bombur lay on top of the pile.

“Don’t be like that, you can get another.” Tom patted Bills back, making him spill his drink.

An argument broke out and Bella took this chance to overcome the small distance between her and her dwarrows. Sheltering herself behind her brother she takes out her small dagger and starts to loosen the ropes.

“Listen, I know you will probably hate me for this plan, but you have to do exactly like I tell you. Understood?” she whispers hardly loud enough for them to hear.

She tried to sell them her plan as well as possible. They all looked at her as if she was insane when she moved on to Nori. Kili looked so betrayed while his brother eyed her as if she was insane. Thorin was no better. He glowered at her as if she had suggested for him to marry the troll.

“For Yavannas sake, Thorin! Put your damn pride away and consider your options! Do you want to end as a troll-snack before you even laid eyes upon your mountain? I don’t want to see them die again, so get your stubborn head out of your ass and do as I say.” Bella hissed under her breath while dragging Nori to the trees.

The argument of the trolls had ended with Bert hitting the other two on the head, demanding silence while he decided how to proceed with the dwarrows.

“How good can you imitate a troll?” Bella wanted to know from the thief.

Nori looked down at the small hobbit lass. She had courage and a whole lot of that!

She had called him Thorin and not master Oakenshield as she used to. And the worst part of it, he liked the sound of that. It had a nice ring to it, coming from her mouth that is.

‘You would even like it if she had insulted you.’ The voice inside his mind snorts.

Her plan was ridiculous and really humiliating, but she was right, he didn’t want to end as a snack for a troll. He had heard only half of her words, too taken by the fact of her calling his name. Did she really tell him to snap out of it?! There was something else in her words that made him frown. Something she said sounded odd.

A deep voice asked if they couldn’t make a pie out of the dwarrows. Another argument between the trolls broke loose and every time it seemed to die down, another bodyless voice intervened and fueled it again.

“Nothing wrong with a raw dwarf! Nice and crunchy!” Bill grabbed Bombur from their pile.

Voices got loud, insults were thrown at the ugly beings, but nothing seemed to help. They could only watch while Bombur was lowered to the open mouth of the troll.

“I wouldn’t risk it if I where you.” Thorin raised his voice over the others. “That one there is spoiled. He has parasites, as we do all.”

The troll halted in his motion, looking at the dwarven king.

“Parasites?” he asks.

“Aye, parasites. We were on our way to a healer, to get rid of our little ‘problem’.” He managed to say.

Every word burned like acid in his throat. The trolls all looked at him, doubtful but curious. Thorin clenches his hands into fists, opening and closing them a few times to release the tension. ‘This’ he decided ‘will never ever again be mentioned.’ Today would leave a blank page in their records.

He kicks his nephews in the back, as good as he can manage from his laying position. Kili joins in on their little act, as does Fili. They all first hesitate but choosing between swallowing once pride and being swallowed is not that hard a choice at all.

“I have huge parasites!” “Mine are the biggest parasites!” “They are as big as my arm!” to only mention a few.

Confusion grew in the faces of the trolls. Dwalin used that chance to get rid of his bonds and slipped the small dagger to Thorin. Quickly the dagger was handed around, while they yelled at the trolls and distracted them as much as possible.

“Enough!” Bert rumbled, snatching Bombur from Bill and throwing him back on the pile. “We will kill them now and cook them tomorrow.” He decided, taking a step towards the dwarrows.

They all were ready to jump up and fight their way out, if necessary. Thorin nodded at Dwalin, who returned the nod wit a grim expression on his face.

These things had hurt his sister! She might have tried to hide her discomfort, but he saw the pain in her eyes, the stiffness in every motion and how she preferred to lean on her left leg. They would burn for what they did. Before any of them could act, a familiar voice echoed over the clearing.

“The dawn will take you all!” Gandalf called out and sun flooded the valley.

The trolls tried to shield themselves from the sunlight but there was no help for them. They became stone once again. For a moment silent ruled the company. Then cheers and laughter filled the air. They still lived. Somehow, they had managed to survive.

“What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed!” as soon as the blonde prince had his clothes, weapons and armor back on he twirls around to his younger brother, angrily staring at him.

“You would have done the same! You saw how they handled her!” Kili defends his action, anger rising in him.

“What would mother say if she saw you being reckless again?” Fili shoots back, checking him for injuries.

“Don’t treat me like a child! If I am old enough to go on this quest I am old enough to make my own decisions!” angrily Kili slaps away the fussing hands, taking a step back and crossing his arms.

“You are far too young to go on this quest!” Fili yelled at him, shoving him a bit.

Kili shoved back and a small fight broke loose. They poked and shoved, bickered and finally rolled around the ground, laughing to their hearts contend. Thorin shook his head at their childish behavior. In his eyes they both were probably far to young to come on this quest.

Suddenly it was quiet. He looked back where he last saw his nephews. They had vanished. His heart missed a beat as he searched the area with his eyes. Bombur and Bofur were helping their cousin into his pants, Balin sorted through the scattered belongings. Nori just came out of the forest and Dori was frantically checking over Ori. The scribe seemed fine, but his brother wouldn’t stop fussing. Dwalin was fastening his axes before stomping over to Nori.

“Uncle look what we found!” a relieved sight leaves Thorins lungs. He hadn’t even realized that he had held his breath.

“What?” he grunted, trying to cover the worry in his voice.

“We found a cave, uncle. It stinks, but there is a small hoard too.” Kilis head pokes out between the bushes.

He followed them, as did the better part of the company, leaving Dwalin and Nori behind. Thorin wasn’t sure why his friend detested his spymaster so much, but Dwalin had always had a high sense for what was right and wrong. He shifts his attention back to the cave before him. A barrel with swords catches his eyes.

‘This one is a bit small to be even called a sword, but maybe she could…’

“Where is she, thief?” Dwalin grabs Noris arm, forcefully yanking him back when he tried to follow the others.

“Lost her already, eh?” Nori sneers, breaking free of the painful grip.

Had he really lost her? Was this filthy thief right? Gritting his teeth Dwalin took another step towards Nori. Staring down on the one he had hunted so many times back in the blue mountains. This scum knew nothing about what was going on inside of him. The worry and the doubt of his own skills to protect his sister nearly drowned him. She had vanished on his watch. She could have been dead!

Nori watched the tall dwarf a few more moments, before he frees him from his misery. Somehow it had become a game to the thief to anger the warrior. He played pranks on Dwalin, angered him on purpose. Nori liked how crimson slowly crept over the tattooed face, the wild look in his eyes and by Mahal, the flexing of his muscles. This sight alone was worth all the trouble that came with it.

“She is fine. After she told me her crazy but brilliant plan she went back to camp. She said she would fetch the herbs, just to make sure. If her plan would have failed she would have poisoned them.” Shrugging he looks at Dwalin, daring to step a bit closer.

'Maybe if I kiss him he would explode?’ chuckling to himself Nori turns away. ‘No, just this is enough for now.’ Ignoring the aching in his chest he leaves.

Dwalin froze. There was a short moment between worry and anger where he felt peace. In the very second he heard the soft chuckle his world went white. Leaving only himself, his One and the smell of tea and sunny days.

“Oh…” he mouthed, watching the thief departing further from him.

If you want me to tag you as well, please just send me a message.

If you like what you have read consider reblogging my story for others to enjoy too.

I am always open for asks and requests for shorts of our favorite dwarrows!

Masterpost

@lathalea

#thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #thilbo #king thorin #hobbit #hobbit headcannons #hobbit imagine #female bilbo #bilbo baggins

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years ago

Text

Grace Beneath the Pines || Ariana & Kaden

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Kaden comes across Ariana lying on the ground in the woods. She invites him to sit with her and breaks the news about Celeste. CONTENT WARNINGS: Sibling death and grief

Ariana had spent most of the past 24 hours either asleep or staring at the ceiling fan in the guest room at Deirdre’s. Some weird combination of a hangover, sedatives, and grief had made moving feel nearly impossible, but walls had always felt suffocating. The more she laid there awake, the more gravity Celeste’s death seemed to have. The air felt stale, constricting. Her legs felt like they had become lead filled, but she needed to move. She needed the fresh air and the one place that always made her feel most at peace. It wouldn’t bring Celeste back. Nothing would. She could only hope she’d be able to breathe a little easier. She was grateful that Ulfric had packed her running shoes and some athleisure clothing in her duffle bag so she could go out to the woods.

She thought running free through the woods would bring that rush she was used to feeling, but she found her legs just felt heavy and every step felt near impossible. Instead, Ariana found herself laying on the ground with her arms supporting her head in a patch of grass under the trees, idly watching the branches blow in the wind and created ripples of light. She tried to focus on the view above her rather than the ache in her chest, but even this reminded her of all the times they camped out and watched the clouds in the sky float by. How they would pick out different shapes and make fun stories as they went. Her laugh was still so clear in her memory and it was a sound she wanted to hold on to forever, but the crunch of leaves under footsteps stirred her from the haze she was in. She shot up and looked to her left, seeing Kaden walking through the trees. She froze, her eyes as wide as saucers as she caught his gaze. Fuck. She knew he was one of the people she needed to tell. One of the only other people who would feel even a fraction of the pain she was going through, but she had not idea where the hell she was supposed to begin. “Uh, hey,” she greeted weakly.

All Kaden wanted was a brief escape from all the bullshit emotions he couldn’t solve or work through anymore. The bar hadn’t been the answer, clearly. Maybe the woods would be better. He grabbed a knife or two and a gun and headed out. He had to do something if he was there. The past few weeks he’d spend lost in thought. He was fucking sick of it. Sick of feeling lost, confused, hurt, useless. He had to do something. And there was nothing he could do for anyone right now. Hunting monsters seemed like a good compromise. And a good place to channel all the stupid emotions he didn’t want. Even if he wasn’t sure it made him feel better about anything anymore after his mother.

As Kaden picked through the forest, he felt a familiar twinge. The one that meant a werewolf was nearby. Part of him wanted to ignore it. Let it lie. Pretend he didn’t notice it or didn’t care. Act like there was no sixth sense and he was just some normal person wandering the woods. Looking for monsters to kill. Right. He sighed and followed the pull of his senses, going the direction they felt strongest. He approached with caution until he saw her. The werewolf. There was Ariana lying there in the middle of the forest. He wasn’t sure if he should interrupt or just walk away but she shot up. Too late. His stomach churned remembering last night. He hadn’t heard from Celeste and it hit like a brick. Maybe things were okay. Ariana was out here and not on the run or dead or any number of things. Did that mean-- Maybe he was wrong before. At the bar. Maybe that wasn’t her parents. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt,” he said awkwardly, looking for any sign from her on how to react. “Felt there was a werewolf out here. Thought I should investigate.” Shit, did that sound ominous? He hadn’t meant it to. It wasn’t a threat. For once. Putain. “I can go if you want.”

He felt a werewolf and wanted to investigate. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Ariana felt herself become somewhat defensive with her eyes narrowing at him. The sudden tension gave all the negative energy in her somewhere to go and she stifled a growl. “Investigate? It’s literally the middle of the fucking afternoon on not a full moon. What? Am I not even allowed to-,” she cut herself off and took in a deep breath. He had offered to leave her alone. He wasn’t trying to give her a problem. How fucked her life was right now had nothing to do with him. Celeste wouldn’t want this. She’d considered him a friend and Ariana didn’t want to lash out at him when she knew this news would hurt him, too. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that. I’m just-- I don’t know,” she explained with a shrug.

Ariana knew this was probably the best time to tell him about what happened. There was no doubt the unanswered messages from Celeste would become suspicious after a certain point. Kaden needed to know and it wouldn’t be fair to tell him in a message. If it were her, she’d hate to find out that way. Given, she’d hate to find out at all. Witnessing it was hardly better. What was she even supposed to say to him? Every part of it just sounded and felt wrong. She hadn’t even realized her fists were clenching the earth below her. Another deep breath and she released the dirt and grass from her fingers, instead patting at the ground next to her, “Sit with me?”

“I can’t exactly turn it off, alright! If something bad was happening and I walked away and never checked--” He’d feel about as awful as he already did. Probably worse. Kaden pulled back his anger. He wasn't going to let a teenage girl bait him into a yelling match. Thankfully she descalted it, too. “Don’t apologize. There’s-- I’m sorry.” The air was heavy with tension. If he just turned and left maybe he could ignore the sinking feeling he had even longer. But Ariana was clearly upset. It wasn’t just the outburst. Her eyes looked red and puffy, she seemed almost worn down. Nothing about him was important enough for any of it to be because of him. There was more. He knew it. He knew it before she asked him to sit. He didn’t want it to be true, any of it. But the messages, Celeste’s parents, all of this right now. The writing was on the wall and he wished he could just wipe it away, leave and save the paint for later. He felt his pulse pick up, but he nodded and took a seat beside her and put his weapons to the side. He wanted to find the words to cut through the tension but he could feel his chest growing tight alright. “Something happened, didn’t it?” was all he could manage. He shouldn’t have to make her say it. But he couldn’t force anything more out of himself.

In retrospect, she guessed it was pretty apparent something happened. Despite the fact she slept nearly fourteen hours, her eyes were still puffy and dark. Everything about her body language from the way her shoulders slumped and how she kept her knees close as she went from laying down to sitting screamed burnt the fuck out. Ariana shouldn’t have been surprised Kaden could just tell something had happened. He’d probably been trying to get in touch with Celeste, too. Her own heart was already hurting to the point where it felt it could sink out of her chest at any moment. How was she supposed to put someone else through that pain? She sighed and clasped her hands together as if to brace herself. “Yeah, something happened. Celeste-- Her parents got me with some sort of sedative dart outside of prom because I’m an idiot and thought I could still go to my senior prom with all this bullshit going on,” she stopped herself, catching her breath that was becoming more shallow. No she had to keep it together, Layla and Kaden cared for Celeste and were owed real explanations. As much as it hurt to say, it was the right thing to do. It’s what she would have wanted. “Celeste eventually found us. Her dad- he,” her voice cracked, but she made herself push through, “He stabbed her.” She was rapidly trying to blink the tears away now. “She didn’t make it, Kaden.” She looked to him, trying to gauge how she could help him process the news even though saying the words aloud left her chest feeling as if someone was stomping a boot into it,

The moment Ariana mentioned Celeste’s parents, he knew the end. He could see what it meant. Kaden bit the edge of his lip to keep it from trembling and giving in to everything too soon. He needed to hear what she had to say. He owed it to both her and her sister. Fuck, she shouldn’t have to relive it all so soon. All he could do was listen and try to hold back anything trying to escape. Sure, he hadn’t known Celeste that long. It still came at him like a punch in the gut. “She didn’t fucking deserve that. She didn’t--” It was too much. All of it was too much. He wanted to hit something, throttle, punch, anything. He couldn’t keep feeling like this, he couldn’t sit in it any longer. His hands fumbled around for a rock, a coin, a fucking piece of mulch to throw. His fingers brushed one and he picked it up and chucked it with everything he had. Didn’t feel better. He tried a second. All he saw was the last time he saw Celeste on the trail. He tried to grab another but all he got was a handful of grass and clump of dirt. Fuck it, he threw that, too. It bounced and went almost nowhere, leaving a trail of dirt as it went. Nothing helped. He still felt like he wanted to melt into the tears and sadness threatening to burst through. And he’d barely known her. It must have felt to Ariana like someone ripped her heart out. That’s how it felt to him when his family got ripped away. He couldn’t say for sure but he bet it was the same. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as his vision went blurry for what felt like the hundredth time this month alone. “I’m so sorry. I--” A sob threatened to cut him off but he swallowed it back in. “I saw them,” he said, sniffling away the tears he could. “I saw them and I tried to warn her. But I--” He pushed his palms to his face, trying to keep it all in, all the emotions threatening to burst. He should have followed them. He should have stopped them. Hell, he could have just stabbed them right there in the bar. If he’d done that none it would have happened. Celeste would still be alive and he wouldn’t have had to sit here the second time in a week making his friend’s sister tell him about their death. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

Watching Kaden process what happened to Celeste made it harder to swallow back the lump that was forming her own throat. Ariana knew Celeste hadn’t deserved that. She deserved so much more than she had ever gotten out of life. She’d given up everything and worked her ass off so that they could have a good life together just to have it ripped away so quickly. So violently. It hurt to think that Celeste would never get to live out her own dreams because she’d been so focused on protecting her. Her mind kept circling back to all the things she could have done differently to prevent this. She should have been sober. She should have heard them coming before they could ever get that dart in her. “She didn't. She's the best person I’ve ever known and he just--” She felt anger rising up in her again. She’d already ripped him apart and it still didn’t feel like enough. Ariana watched as he threw rocks and dirt, kind of liking the idea, but stuck with clutching at the ground beneath her, as if it would keep her tethered while everything around her was spinning out of control. She felt her breathing becoming shallow again. Why was this so fucking hard? Why couldn’t Celeste just be here? She’d know what to say and do. She’d always had a knack for that, knowing exactly what to say to make things seem better. It caught her by surprise that Kaden tried to warn of the Aquillas arrival. “You did,” she asked, somewhat incredulously. It was one thing he agreed not to kill her, but actively helping. It was still a surprise. Maybe it didn’t change anything, but that was her own fault. Seeing his tears made it hard for her to hold back her own though she tried to blink them back as best she could. “It’s-- I am, too. I know you guys were friends.”

“I knew they had a bounty on both of you and--” And Kaden didn’t stop them when he had a chance. He didn’t do anything. He could have tried harder, he could have been better and prevented this or at least slowed it down. Fuck, why did this hurt so much? He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t give a shit about a hunter who walked away from the path and protected a werewolf and raised her. He shouldn’t feel bad for the werewolf still alive. He should be able to walk away and not look back. A sob caught in his throat and all he could hear was his mother’s voice telling him to stop his outbursts. Emotions were only worthwhile when they were productive, channeled into the hunt. And even then they had to be kept in check. If he could hold it all in, he would. But they were tearing through him to get out. Celeste had carved her own path. Made a hard choice. One he was so sure he would never make. Under any circumstances. But in her place now? He didn’t know. He felt so lost. And she felt like some sort of guide or... something. Hope, maybe? Proof that a hunter could make their own code and not-- He didn’t even know what. But she’d walked away and made a life and-- fuck. Look what it got her. Maybe she could never walk away. Maybe they could never walk away from it. And if she couldn’t, if he couldn’t--

Kaden blinked away some of the tears that had forced their way out and all he could hear now was Luce screaming that this wasn’t about him. And how fucking right she was. And how much it applied here, too. What he lost didn’t come close or even compare. Celeste was his friend but she was Ariana’s whole world. He may never had seen them together but from their story alone, he knew that much. “She was but… She was your sister.” Who the fuck was he, really? Just some hunter she met with to try and keep her sister safe. Her sister who was a fucking werewolf. Who he should hate and not tolerate and shouldn’t give a fuck about. He didn’t, though. He didn’t care about Ariana. Right? Not really. It was Celeste. That’s who-- But looking at her all he felt was guilt and grief and empathy. He couldn't’ turn it off or push it away. Not while everything inside him felt like it was bursting at the seems. “Did she-- She died protecting you, right?”

If Celeste were here, she’d have some profound thing to say about loss. About how we can’t blame ourselves or obsess over the things that could have been differently. Ariana didn’t know how to tell him that he couldn’t put blame on himself when she’d been doing the same. Who the hell was she to tell anyone how to handle anything? She looked down, letting her hair fall in front of her face to hide the quiver in her life. This was all wrong. “I knew too and I still--” Still went to prom. Still went about her life as if it was mostly normal. Still drank and somehow turned her life into some sort of fucked up after school special. Still insisted they stayed in White Crest. There was so much she could have done differently and she knew Celeste would be telling her to stop thinking like this. “I guess it doesn’t matter, the things we could’ve done differently.” Her tone was hardly convincing. Her voice was still shaky and fresh tears still pricked at the corners of her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but figured there was little use in hiding them. She had every right to be sad, angry, and anything else she was feeling.

She guessed at the very least, in this moment she wasn’t crying alone. Having someone else who knew and missed her brought a small amount of comfort. It was the same reason Ariana found comfort in laying on the ground out here with Layla, too. Keeping Celeste’s memory and spirit alive wasn’t all on her. There were others who could remember with her. It was why it threw her off guard when he was discounting his own feelings. “Just because she’s my sister doesn’t mean you don’t also get to be sad.” She wiped some of her own tears away and let her arms rest on her knees. The question he asked next made her breath hitch in her throat. Celeste died protecting her. Of course she did. Kaden knew it and she wasn’t sure if the answer made it better or worse. Half the time, it made her feel even worse. Knowing that if maybe she just stayed out of trouble, Celeste could still be here and everything would just be fine. Because she always knew what to do. She closed her eyes, nodding for a moment, before finally choking out the words, “Yeah, she did.” She really hoped he didn’t press too much further. No matter how understanding he’d come to be, Ariana knew he wouldn’t like the rest of what went down. Not that he’d like any of it. The whole fucking thing was just terrible. She took in deep breath, steadying herself, before she added, “I don’t really have it in me to do the play by play. She would have appreciated you trying to warn her though. I do.”

“You’re eighteen. This isn’t on you. Celeste fought for you to have your life. Told me as much. If you-- You can’t-- Don’t blame yourself for that. There’s no way she--” Kaden didn’t know why he felt the need to reassure her or why he wanted to pat her on the back or something, some offer of comfort. Maybe it was out of respect for Celeste. He couldn’t say. But he knew she put her life on the line for Ariana. She did more for this werewolf than possibly either Celeste’s parents or his parents had done for them. Sure, hunters put their lives on the line but more often than not, at least from what he’d experienced, it was for duty, to protect humanity. Not to protect someone they loved. Humanity as a whole was more important than being around for your child. “You’re right. Can’t change the past.”

Kaden pressed his palm to his eyes again. Her words hit him in a way he hadn’t expected. “I know. I mean, I am-- I am sad but--” It wasn’t the same. When his parents died he’d been so angry and closed off. And here she was, inviting him to sit and deciding to tell him in person, something she didn’t have to do. He’d get it if she wanted to skip having one of the worst kinds of conversations with someone she barely knew. Beyond that, someone she knew damn well hunted people like her. People. No, that wasn’t ri-- Didn’t matter. Celeste was right. She was a good kid. He had a feeling Celeste had a big hand in that. “You remind me of her, you know.” He finally looked over and caught a glimpse of her. She may not have been biologically related to Celeste at all but he still saw bits of her there in Ariana. The kindness, the spunk, the occasional gesture, too. “I don’t want it anyway. I just-- I know that’s how she would have wanted it if--” He could feel his throat getting tighter. “Most hunters know they’re going to die fighting instead of asleep in their beds. This was the fight she was always going to choose. That was pretty clear from the first time I met her.”

“I know you’re right it’s just-- None of this feels right.” Ariana doubted that it ever would. How could it? She’d been taken from the world so violently when all she did was show more kindness than she’d ever received. There were so many more people who deserved that kind of end that still got to walk around freely while Celeste was just gone and it felt like some big piece of her was just missing. She was supposed to go on living her life like Celeste would have wanted when everything just felt wrong. She did her best go of trying to give him an appreciative look, but it most likely just looked like a grimace. Everything was pained right now. There was no real point in hiding it.

Ariana sighed again and wiped her eyes for what felt like the millionth time since this whole thing happened. “No buts. Your feelings are just as valid as mine. That’s what she’d say,” she assured. Everyone who knew had spent so much time catering to her feelings and she knew Ulfric was more upset than he’d let on. The least she could do was try to embody the parts of her sister she loved the most, when she could muster the energy for it. It did bring a small smile to her face that she reminded him of Celeste. It was surprising, given what he was, but she was more open to trusting a hunter than most. “Thanks, that means a lot. I try-- she’s taught me a lot. She had to be the most patient person ever.” Ariana found she tripped on her words more than she normally did, but nothing felt quite right. Her remark on patience did remind her of when they were kids. She let go of her knees and threw a rock of her own, as if it could skip across the ground. “I remember when we were kids, people would always just give us these weird looks. I guess they’d assume she was my mom and just be judgy because of how young Celeste was. I’ve always been a little quick to anger, but she’d just-- She’d hold my hand and I’d feel calm, you know? Like it didn’t matter that the rest of the world would never understand us. Their disapproval didn’t make what we had any less special.”

She wasn’t sure why she shared the story, but something about being able to distinctly remember the feeling of Celeste’s hand in hers brought a small bit of light back to her memory. Ariana knew she’d always feel at least a little sad knowing she’d never get to feel her sister’s hand in hers again. It didn’t take away the fact she was lucky to have had someone who loved her so dearly, who fought for her no matter what. And she knew Kaden was right. Celeste would have always chosen to fight to protect her. “That’s kind of a sad way to live, but I get it. Or I think I do. I know she’d always fight to protect me, but she shouldn’t have had to. I mean, who the fuck wants to kill their own kid?”

“Because it’s not,” Kaden mumbled past the emotions choke holding his throat. Losing his parents as violently and as suddenly as he had, it still didn’t feel right. There’s no way Celeste’s death would be any better. Not given who it was she was fighting when it happened. Every part of him wanted to get up and punch something, scream, kick, anything. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. She’d found her own code, her own path, and she didn’t even get to-- He wanted to wail on something. But he felt like lead, weighed down to the spot by stupid tears that kept coming every time he thought he was finally able to move. All he could manage was a nod as he blubbered a little more into his hands when she told him his feelings were valid. How the fuck was it some teenage werewolf was the one saying what he needed to hear. And all after some of the worst shit in her life? Guilt tried to tear its way through him from somewhere deep inside. No, maybe it wasn’t guilt. It couldn’t be guilt. Just grief. Just some hollow feeling left when someone he was told to hate was able to tell him something he wasn’t sure his parents had ever bothered.

Kaden listened to her memory of her sister. It physically hurt, trying to hold in all the grief in his chest. It kept piling on like layers. Celeste was a good person. Better than most. Better than him by a long shot. He didn’t exactly understand what they’d had, Celeste and Ariana. A hunter protecting a wolf still had trouble settling fully in his mind. But he couldn’t deny how much they cared about each other. And how important Ari had been to her. And he didn’t have to get it but he was certainly going to respect it out of respect for his fallen friend. “She chose you. Over a lot of things. So I’m sure it didn’t matter to her.” People spoke a lot about unconditional love. He’d thought he’d had that with his parents. Clearly that wasn’t-- But Celeste and Ari. That was it. That--

“I don’t know. But my parents would have. Lalya’s want to. Her’s did.” It was just a fact at this point. Kaden knew it plain and simple. But nothing about it was plain or simple. It was thoroughly fucked. It was one thing to be disowned, to have your parents disapprove. To know they thought so little of you that-- He sniffed and wiped his nose. In his head, all the times he heard hunters called monsters ripped through him. He felt it at his core. Because fuck, any parent wiling to murder their child, he couldn’t not call that anything but a monster. And if he was one of th-- Fuck. He couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t-- His breaths were shortening and he clamped down on his jaw and forced them to slow, inhaling through his nose, then out through the mouth. Control the outburst. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her. She was just a kid.

No, not just a kid. Also a werewolf. A thought struck him. “Full moon’s coming up soon.” What would she do without Celeste?

Ariana wasn’t sure why she shared that story with Kaden, but she hadn’t regretted it. Given the circumstances, it’s not like they could give her a proper funeral, especially with the police already asking questions. She deserved to have her memory shared and her life celebrated. Being able to share the memory of Celeste with someone else who cared about her was about all she could do. Remember and try to hold on to those parts of herself that Celeste had helped shape. Remember and keep those memories close to her, even when it hurt, even if it felt like they’d make her chest cave in. They were all she had left and she intended to make the most of them. With a few quiet tears running down her face, she nodded, “I know it didn’t. After a while, I stopped caring about the way other people saw us. We loved each other and that was always enough.”

There was a frown on her face as he said his own parents would do the same. Given he was a hunter, it wasn’t shocking, but Ariana still felt bad for him. She didn’t know him too well, but family love was supposed to be unconditional. Having some sacred duty or whatever didn’t take away from the responsibility of being a decent fucking parent. “Well, it’s shitty,” she responded, feeling some anger rise in her, “Celeste didn’t deserve that and neither do you or Layla.” She hadn’t realized he’d known about Layla. At least it didn’t sound like he was after her though the way he seemed to be struggling with breathing caught her attention. She’d been letting her own tears fall freely at this point, but it seemed like he was trying to hold back his. She shook her head and gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder, “Dude, you’re allowed to cry. I don’t buy into that whole toxic masculinity crap.”

She wrapped her arms around her knees again and looked off into the distance as she added, “It’s kind of… I don’t know, better to have someone to be sad with.” Ariana had spent much of her time since prom staring up at the sky or ceiling being sad on her own. Trying to remember every little detail about her memories with Celeste, as if they could all just slip away from her as quickly as Celeste had. They were all she really had left and she wanted to cling to them. Sharing those memories and that sadness with someone helped a little bit. She had to bite back the sharp bit of annoyance that plagued her when Kaden asked her about the full moon. She wasn’t sure what he thought they were doing every full moon, but she still had enough sense to go out somewhere remote and focus her energy on deer and rabbits. She took a deep breath and focused on the memory of Celeste’s hand in hers so she didn’t snap at him for asking a valid enough question. There was still a hint of annoyance in her tone as she retorted, “Yeah, Strawberry Moon to be exact. You don’t have to worry though. You’re not going to find me snacking on some unsuspecting camper.”

It sounded nice, what she was saying. About their life. Kaden figured it had no right being that nice given a teenage hunter was left raising a werewolf. But they’d made it work. “Sounds like you had a pretty good life with her.” Hard as it probably was. “No, she didn’t deserve it. Even if--” Even if Ariana had been dangerous, murder was a fucking shitty answer as far as he was concerned. “It’s shitty. It is.” And yet for some reason, some part of him still understood the thought behind it. Which hurt even more. He almost wished it didn’t make any sense to him

Kaden shook his head, biting back and fighting against his emotions. “No, it’s not-- I’m sick of fucking crying,” he spat, burying his face back in his hands. Still, it didn’t stop the tears. They pushed out anyway. “I’m fucking sick of it. First with Regan and-- Then my fucking mother’s ghost. And now I-- I lost two friends within a fucking week. I’m so fucking sick of crying all the time. I can’t. I--” He wanted it to stop hurting for just two minutes. A day where he didn’t want to give into any of it with tears or by punching the wall. That wasn’t today. Today he let himself give into it a moment. Cause she was right. It was a relief not being alone in feeling alone. “Sorry, I just… sorry.” He didn’t mean to just dump everything right in the open. This shouldn’t-- He shouldn’t-- All he could do was wipe some more tears away.

“I didn’t…” He hadn’t wanted to ruin anything but he had to ask. “I just meant without Celeste… I knew she helped you. She told me as much. Which is why--” Which is why he was okay with it all. Maybe this was a shitty time to bring it up. He felt like shit even suggesting something would-- “I-- are you going to be okay?”

Life with Celeste hadn’t been without hardships, but one thing Ariana never lacked was love and support. She couldn’t wrap her mind around parents not showing the children they brought into this world that same kind of love. She was a little taken aback by his statement that crying wasn’t okay, followed by actually crying, but she sat quietly beside him. Taking in what he said and letting her own emotions free. Her own quiet tears fell for Celeste and all the turmoil her friends seemed to be going for. It seemed like lately no one could get a break and Kaden was definitely one of those people. She may not have understood what happened, but it was clear enough he’d been put through the ringer, too. The world just seemed to keep taking and she offered another pat on the arm. “Sounds like you’re having a rough time, too. You don’t need to apologize.”

Ariana realized she may have gotten needlessly tense with him at the mention of the full moon. It was going to be her first full moon without Celeste in a really long time, not that she’d really call it quality time, but there had still always been something comforting in knowing Celeste was out there watching out for her. “She did, yeah, but probably not in the way you think,” she explained, not particularly wanting to give too much of her full moon routine away to a hunter. She knew he wasn’t hunting her, but she didn’t feel quite comfortable going into detail.

The question of whether Ariana would be okay felt loaded. For the full moon? Sure. She knew she and Ulf would be going somewhere remote enough that she could focus all her energy on hunting and eating deer until she tired. Outside of the full moon? Nothing really felt okay. She was sure he knew everything felt dark at the moment. She shrugged and answered, “For the full moon? Yeah, I’ll be okay. I guess eventually I will be okay all around.”

“If you need any help or… something…” Nothing about any of what Kaden said made sense to him. None of it. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had to offer or say something. He had to. Not just for himself but a fallen friend. A little for himself, though. To stave off the deeply buried confusion he was starting to feel towards anything involving hunting right now. He found himself wanting to distance himself more and more from what his parents taught him, but there was no way he could let a full moon go by without doing something. He had to know he was keeping people safe somehow. And a big part of him wanted to do right by his friend. “I get it if you don’t trust me. Hell, I wouldn’t trust me if-- I just…” Even thinking it felt a little wrong. “She died to keep you safe. I don’t know why I want to help but…” Some part of him knew. If it had been the other way around somehow, if he’d died protecting Regan or Blanche or someone, he had a feeling Celeste wouldn't have hesitated to help where she could. Bea wouldn’t either. He felt more and more like there was nothing he could do for the Vurals, they didn’t seem to want it either. Maybe he could do something, anything, even if it was small, even if it was moronic, for another friend’s sister. It pained him that sister was a werewolf. But he was dating a fae. And he hadn’t thought about killing her yet. So might as well lean into the disgrace of a hunter he was. At least in this instance. If he could help keep it that she never hurt anyone, maybe he could feel okay about letting her live. “I don’t know what I can do. Or if you want my help or need it or… If I didn’t offer I’d-- I don’t know.” This was a stupid idea. What was he doing? He should take it back. He should leave. He couldn’t do this. Kaden had half a mind to just get up and say nevermind before she could even reply.

Ariana found herself momentarily at a loss for words. This went way out of the realm of what she expected from Kaden. She knew Celeste had considered him a good friend, but it also wasn’t that long ago that he shot one of her friends. She supposed if he was occupied with her on the full moon, at least the others would be a little safer. Well, maybe just the first night. She really wanted to spend the Strawberry Moon with Ulfric and go to Celeste’s tree first. She hadn’t been by yet and she needed to have that moment with her before she could even begin the dreaded project of going through her things. She felt so conflicted on what to make of his offer and a huge part of her wondered what Celeste would think of it all. She knew Celeste always wanted to see the good in people and help them. Ariana was able to see Kaden was trying and had good enough intentions, but this was also her time. The full moon could free her from some of the constant ache she felt since losing Celeste. She supposed Kaden couldn’t really take away from that, but the night of the Strawberry Moon was reserved for seeing Celeste and spending the evening with Ulf. He’d even promised to take her to one of his favorite spots. She let out a long sigh as she fidgeted with her hands. “Do I have to answer that right now,” she asked, her tone unsure, “Are you even sure that’s something you really want to do? Because like, maybe just the first night. Make sure the whole emotional trauma thing doesn’t have me too out of whack in wolf form. I don’t know though.” She let out a long sigh. This was definitely confusing and she could tell it was for him, too. There was the slight pang as she could hear Celeste’s voice in her head reminding her to give him a chance. “Look, I appreciate that my sister had an actual friend who clearly cared about her. Maybe we should both take a chance to actually think that over.”

Kaden wanted to get up and run and pretend this moment never happened. He could figure out who the fuck had asked that queeston later, becuase it sure as hell wasn’t him. For now, he aave heer a small nod while he stayed rooted in place. “You don’t have to ans-- I mean you don’t have to do anything if-- Putain.” This was stupid. It was such a bad idea to even offer. If there was a reason she didn’t want to-- Well probably because she didn’t want to die, sure, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was some other worse reason. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. Whole thing was a mistake. He shouldn’t have even sat down to talk, honestly. He shouldn't be in this position at all. Not with a werewolf. His stomach churned just trying to process everything he’d done and said this whole moment, all of it Conflicted didn't even begin to cover it. “Uh, I’d, um, I’d at least like to make sure I don’t kill my friend’s sister.” Unless he had to. “So, uh, maybe I should know what you look like. You know. As a wolf. So I don’t--” Shoot her. Again, unless he had to. If she was out of control and about to kill another human, he’d have to stop her. It didn’t matter who she was then. That was just how it went. “Probably a good start, right? Uh, doesn’t have to be now. But maybe, you know. At some point. I don’t need your sister’s ghost haunting me. I’ve had more than enough of that kind of shit recently.”

Ariana took a deep breath and reminded herself how Celeste always told her to try to be patient. It was just hard to be sympathetic to his whole existential crisis when she was in the process of grieving her sister and part of his existential crisis was whether he should kill others like her. Her fists subconsciously clenched and she had to make a very conscious effort to try to relax them again. She sighed, still not feeling great about it, but said, “The same goes to you, too, putain?” She wasn’t sure what putain meant, but she went with it. Probably something French. She shrugged it off and was a bit surprised that he wanted to know what she looked like, to make sure he didn’t hurt her. He didn’t finish his sentence, but she could put two and two together. She wanted to snarl, but refrained and took in a few deep breaths instead. “I’m smaller than average. Mostly white with a little bit of gray. Will probably have a purple tail before the next full moon-- so I’ll be pretty fucking hard to miss.” Her tone had a little more bite than she intended. The idea of him hunting on the full moon didn’t exactly give her warm, fuzzy feelings, but she was entirely too exhausted to try and fight him on it. She’d save that for another day. Instead she added, “Nah, it’s cool. I don’t mind if you know what I look like. I don’t know if she’s a ghost or not, but yeah, good call. Think I’m pretty low on the threat radar anyway, unless you just really fucking love deer.” The possibility that her sister could be a ghost hadn’t crossed her mind. She was half-tempted to ask Blanche about it, but she seemed stressed to all hell lately and she didn’t want to add to that.

Kaden sighed. He could feel her getting frustrated, the air grew tense again like it had before he sat down. Not surprising that she didn’t want to hear about his hunting but it’s not like he could change who he was. It was his job. He had to go out and hunt on the full moon. To make sure people stayed safe. That wasn’t even a question. Was it? No. Not a question. And he could do it with the burden lifted of feeling obligated to a fellow hunter. He’d just have to be a little more careful. “Noted. But you dying your tail purple is going to make you easier to spot to other--” Not the time, not the place. Not from him. “Nevermind. By the way, you know ‘putain’ pretty much means ‘fuck’ in French, right?” he said, trying to smile a bit at the end, maybe cut some of the tension. He tried to find another rock with his fingers running through the grass nearby. “Uh, but, I don’t think she’s actually a ghost, though. Celeste. At least, I hope not. I hope she found some peace. At least knowing you’re safe from her family now.” He found a pebble and threw it, gentler than last time, watching it glide across the way. “If you want to tell me anything more about her, I’d, uh, I’d listen. If you wanted. I can go now, too. If you’d rather be alone. Up to you. I know-- I mean, I’m sure it wasn't easy. Telling me. Saying it outloud. So thanks.” Saying it always made it more real. Harder to pretend nothing changed. That you might see them again when you come home. Easier to trick the mind when it’s never spoken.

Ariana knew Kaden had a point about the purple tail thing. Hell, Ulf had even said as much, but couldn’t she just do one stupid, reckless thing in the midst of her sister dying? They’d be far enough out that she doubted they’d have any issues, but maybe he had a point. Ulf and Layla were already sad about Celeste, she didn’t need to go and get herself shot on the full moon because her tail was purple. She grumbled, “Yeah, you’re probably right. I might listen to you on that. We’ll see.” Her lips formed a small “o” when he told her what putain meant. “Oops, I didn’t know what it meant, but hey, now I can swear in English, French, and Norwegian.” She took a go at attempting a small smile, but it mostly came out as another grimace. It was hard to put on a convincing smile when everything still felt dark and hopeless. Trying to navigate the world without Celeste still made everything feel overwhelming. Actually saying that she died out loud made it even more so, but Kaden was a friend of hers. He deserved a real conversation, not just a quick text on social media. Ariana didn’t really have a good understanding of ghosts, but the thought she probably wasn’t one kind of solidified the fact she’d never get to talk to her again. At least not in any real capacity. She swallowed back a lump in her throat, but didn’t bother trying to blink away the tears forming in her eyes. “Oh, right. I don’t really know how ghosts work. I’d rather her be at peace. She never got to have that while she was alive, she deserves it now.” Even if it meant there really was no speaking to her again. Even if it meant she was really gone. She wanted peace for Celeste more than herself. She thought over Kaden’s offer and decided, “Sharing memories would be nice. Given the circumstances it’s not like we could have a proper memorial. It wasn’t , but I planned on telling you in person anyway, didn’t feel right sending a message since you two were friends and all.” She went on to share a series of her favorite Celeste stories, tears present in her eyes, but found it felt a little better being able to keep those memories alive somehow. Maybe she’d never get her sister back, but she’d do her best to keep her alive and honor her in her everyday life. Celeste deserved that and more.

#wickedswriting #grace beneath the pines #kaden #grief tw #sibling death tw

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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wild flower, chapter three (shalaska) 3/10 - freyja

A/N: I keep trying to post once a week, but I also keep forgetting that AQ is one day ahead, so we’ll just have to deal with an odd week-and-a-day schedule. Thank you once again to freykitten for betaing - you are the best and I adore you.

Anyway, chapter three: in which Alaska is forced to realize that outlaws are… tolerable, I suppose.

🌸

“I was happy in the midst of dangers and inconveniences.” – Daniel Boone

🌸

Alaska wakes up to a bucket of water being thrown into her face.

She jolts into consciousness with a gasp, shaking with shock and the cold of the water. She attempts to open her eyes in her haste, but she immediately has to squeeze them shut against the rivulets of water streaming down her face.

“Morning!” Sharon sounds cheerful, a smile clear in her voice. Alaska hates her.

“Fuck you,” she croaks out, throat dry. She’s starting to feel a bit like a broken record, but she’s never been a morning person and Sharon’s wit is hard to keep up with five seconds after waking up.

“Maybe later,” Sharon says, but the response sounds almost automatic. “We’ve got something for you.”

Alaska frowns skeptically. “I’m sure.”

Sharon sighs, and Alaska wants to look at her so badly.

She forces herself to blink her eyes open, now that the water is done running down her face, and takes in the scene, a few droplets clinging to her eyelashes.

Sharon is crouched down next to her, holding a mug of water. A tin plate of eggs and beans sits next to her on an overturned bucket. Alaska’s mouth waters at the sight.

“See?” Sharon asks, raising an eyebrow. “Something. Start talking.”

“You’re denying me food and water to get information,” Alaska asks flatly, disbelieving.

“At least until they’re completely necessary,” Sharon says, shrugging. “We can’t have you die on us too soon.”

Alaska’s mouth feels drier just looking at the water, and she has to swallow several times to speak without coughing. Her stomach growls. It’s only a mild hunger - she hasn’t actually missed a meal yet - but it makes her realize that she’s never missed a meal in her life. She doesn’t know how well she’ll stand against this, and she doesn’t want to be reduced to begging. Her pride won’t let her, not when she knows she can come up with a better proposal.

She just needs to think.

“It won’t work,” she tries, but Sharon just smiles wryly.

“I’ve done this more times than you own dresses,” Sharon says, standing up. “I know what I’m doing.”

The reference is a deliberate dig at her dramatics the previous night, and it hurts a little. “So at least two times,” Alaska drawls, determined to seem unaffected. “I’m impressed.”

Sharon snorts. “Please. I’m sure you have more dresses back wherever you came from,” she says. “Get up.”

Alaska glares up at her from the ground. “I’m a little tired,” she says coldly. “I think I’ll pass.”

Sharon presses her lips together, and Alaska deems herself successful in getting under the other woman’s skin. She gives Sharon the most saccharine smile she can muster. Sharon is unamused.

“Fine,” Sharon says. “I can always come back tomorrow.”

“Thank god.”

It clearly isn’t the response Sharon had wanted, judging by the flicker in her otherwise impassive expression. “I can do this for a long time.”

Alaska raises an eyebrow. “But you can’t, can you?”

Sharon’s eyebrows creep up to her hairline. “I’m sorry?” She grabs Alaska by the arm and pulls, forcing her to stand up. Her arms prickle painfully at the movement, having fallen asleep due to their position behind her. “You know something I don’t?”

“Well, obviously,” Alaska says, and Sharon scowls.

“Do you have a point, or is this just you being a brat?” she snaps, and Alaska meets her gaze as confidently as she can, despite quite literally shaking in her boots. She is the one in control of the situation - the one with the information, and thus can decide where the conversation is going to go - but Sharon is still terrifying. She’s gotten too used to the other woman’s amused attitude - her anger is something else entirely.

“They know you’re onto them,” Alaska says, voice miraculously steady. “You know that. They’re trying to leave, and pretty soon even the escape routes I know will be useless.”

“The last thing you want to be is useless,” Sharon tells her, anger seeming to cool down a little with Alaska’s clarification.

“And the last thing you want is to be knocked back to square one,” Alaska says, thinking fast. She has somewhat of an idea, and she can only pray that Sharon thinks it’s just as good as she does. “I think I have a way to avoid both.”

Sharon steps back, crossing her arms. “Alright,” she says slowly, suspicious. “You’re smart. Tell me.”

“If I tell you what I know,” Alaska says, even as her stomach turns at the thought of betraying her uncle. She tells herself that she betrayed him the minute she memorized the map he’d wanted her to burn - this was going to happen eventually, somehow, some way, and that’s why she’d done it. The damage is already done. “If I tell you what I know, I want to stay here until Solomon is no longer a threat.”

“You want us to protect you?” Sharon asks, surprised.

“If I tell you, I’m on your side,” Alaska says, heart pounding with what she is about to do - what she is about to commit to. “I’ll be a target for Solomon, and I’d rather be here than back home as a sitting duck.”

“Deal,” Sharon says without hesitation. “This is absolutely a fucking deal. But - you’re sure you don’t want to go back?”

“You burned it down, remember?” Alaska says, knowing that Sharon meant New York. She just can’t - she can’t face her father right now. She doesn’t know if she can take his false concern, only to be presented to different men every night like some prize dog just days later.

Living with bandits seems more bearable than that.

Sharon gives her a look, but she lets it drop, the deal seemingly making her merciful. “Just know - we can’t let you leave until it’s all over, not when you can give to Solomon what you’re giving to us.”

“Understood,” Alaska says, and Sharon’s face breaks into a smile.

“Then we have ourselves a deal,” she says, eyes roaming all over Alaska’s face with something like appreciation in her eyes. Alaska wills her blush to go down.

“Something on my face?” she asks, calling back to their first meeting, when Sharon had been the one to catch her staring. Instead of blushing and spluttering out an excuse, however, Sharon just tilts her head.

“Actually,” she says, leaning forwards, “there is.” And suddenly, her hand is on Alaska’s face.

Alaska flinches sharply, startled, but Sharon pays her no heed, gently wiping Alaska’s damp cheek with her thumb. Her hand is gone as quickly as it came, but her touch still lingers, warm against Alaska’s chilled skin. Alaska holds her breath throughout the entire affair, only daring to relax when Sharon steps back, seemingly unaware of the effect she’s having.

She raises her hand for Alaska to see, a piece of grass pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “Piece of hay,” she says, flicking it to the ground, and Alaska exhales harshly.

“How-?” she asks, racking her brain for when that could have appeared. She’s a little embarrassed, feeling disheveled and unseemly because of it. It’s ridiculous, considering who Sharon is, and the fact that her hair and dress are already beyond hope, but something about Sharon’s touch had rattled her.

“We used the horses’ water bucket to wake you up,” Sharon says, eyes twinkling mischievously. Alaska recoils, all memory of Sharon’s touch vanishing in favor of complete disgust.

“What?”

“It was the closest one,” Sharon says, and Alaska narrows her eyes at her, suddenly very aware that her dress is completely soaked with the now warm water.

“The horses are on the opposite side of camp!” she snaps, and Sharon laughs. “Ugh!”

“You can take a bath as soon as you tell me everything,” Sharon says, almost teasingly.

“In what?”

“There’s a creek just off the path.”

“That’s not much better.”

“Well, it’s what you’ll be drinking. Better get used to it.”

“Can’t I at least eat first?”

“I’m not untying you before we can be sure you won’t be difficult,” Sharon says, “and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be spoon fed, despite the silver one you were born with in your mouth.”

Alaska rolls her eyes at the jab, and Sharon laughs again, before her smile fades into something more serious, although her eyes still hold their perpetual amusement. She smirks a little with her next words: “Now. Spill.”

🌸

“Jesus,” Jinkx says as Alaska and Sharon duck into the main tent, which is really just a piece of canvas strung out over a wooden platform. “What did you do to her?”

“It’s called interrogation,” Sharon says, and Alaska tightens her lips. Her skirts are still wet, having barely dried in the time it took for her to tell Sharon everything and eat the breakfast she’d brough for her, and she’s found a few more pieces of hay on her chest and in her hair. She isn’t in the mood to forgive.

“It’s called being cruel,” Alaska shoots back, plucking another piece of grass off of her corset. Her back is beginning to tire from being in it for so long, but she’s been successful in ignoring it so far. She just needs to keep it off her mind. She flicks the grass at Sharon, pulling the corners of her mouth down to show her disgust. “Unnecessarily so.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, and Jinkx frowns at her.

“And she’s untied because….” Jinkx leads, although she doesn’t seem very alarmed. She leans against the table to the right, a piece of paper in her hands. It looks like a letter, but she puts it to the side before Alaska can get a good look at it.

Alaska looks at Sharon for her response, but she instead goes straight to a rickety desk opposite Jinkx, opening one of the peeling drawers and rustling through it. After a few moments of silence, Alaska looks at Jinkx.

“We’ve come to an agreement,” Alaska says, still a little unsure of her place and surprised that Sharon seems to expect her to fill in Jinkx. She’s staying in the camp for protection, but she’s still unclear on how welcome she is in doing so. Being treated as one of them seems strange, and besides, she isn’t sure she wants to be treated as one of them. “My information for your protection.”

“Our information, now,” Sharon says, pulling a blank sheet of paper out of the second drawer down. She puts it on the desktop, pulling a fountain pen from its stand and holding it out to Alaska. “You can draw a map, right?”

“I can,” Alaska says, a little dryly. “But I already told you everything.”

“A map can’t hurt,” Sharon says, a piece of hair falling into her face, freed from her hat upon entry into the tent. Alaska pretends that her desire to tuck it behind her ear is one born of tidiness and nothing more.

She takes the pen from Sharon after a moment, moving to sit down at the desk. As she bends down, her bun tilts on her head painfully, and after a few tries to correct it she decides to take it down and redo it.

She pulls out the pins, allowing her hair to fall down her back. She runs her fingers through it, wincing as her fingers catch on the tangles.

“You should keep it like that,” Sharon says, just as Alaska begins to gather her hair back up into a bun. “It suits you.”

Alaska looks at her, a smart comment on the tip of her tongue, but it vanishes at the expression on Sharon’s face. It’s thoughtful, warm, the look in her eyes suddenly intense. Her breath catches, face growing warm.

“It tangles,” she manages, quickly looking back down at the map.

“Look at Jinkx’s!” Sharon argues. “She doesn’t care, and it doesn’t even look good.”

“You’re one to talk,” Jinkx snorts, and Alaska bites back her immediate objection.

“Yeah, because it’s tangled,” she shoots back instead, cheeks still flushed. She looks back at Sharon to find the expression gone, but instead of relief, her stomach dips in disappointment. “Half up,” she finds herself saying, just to get that expression back again. She’d seen it before, on the men her father had brought through the house, but it had never brought the flush of pleasure that all of Alaska’s friends had giggled about. To see Sharon look at her like that is rewarding, and it’s so pleasantly surprising that Alaska lets herself feel it without repercussion.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of Sharon’s mouth, her gaze warm. “Perfect,” she says, and Alaska finds herself smiling back, her chest growing warm with the praise.

“Are we drawing a map?” Jinkx says suddenly, jerking Alaska back into reality. “Or are we doing Alaska’s hair?”

“Can’t it be both?” Sharon says, pouting a little, but Alaska feels too flustered to brush it off, quickly looking back down at the desk.

She’s disgusted with herself, for her enamour with Sharon and letting her feelings get the best of her. She can’t - Sharon isn’t an option. She cannot be, for more reasons than one.

She stares hard at the blank sheet of paper, berating herself and battling the lump of tears that has suddenly sprung up in her throat. She rolls her lips between her teeth, trying to bring herself out of the spiral and back into the present, but ironically, the thing that does it is Sharon herself.

“Alaska?” she says gently, and Alaska jumps at the hand that suddenly touches her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she grits out, jerking her shoulder away from Sharon’s touch. “Just let me focus.”

“Alright,” Sharon says after a moment. “Alright. We’ll be quiet.”

Her response takes Alaska aback, and she nearly looks back at Sharon in her surprise, stopping herself just in time. Again, she wonders what her place here is, if the gang leader herself falls silent at Alaska’s command? She shakes her head at the thought, immediately dismissing it as dramatics. But still. It isn’t quite that drastic, but the fact that Sharon respects her enough to listen is enough to ponder over.

Maybe it’s all in an effort to get the best information possible, even if that reasoning doesn’t fit very well.

As Alaska makes the first line on the paper, she wonders if Sharon sees it as a deal being carried out, or a member just doing her job.

🌸

Almost immediately after Sharon gets the map, she leaves Alaska alone with Jinkx, moving quickly across camp to ‘get this shit started as soon as possible’.

It’s clear why Alaska isn’t in Sharon’s tent with Detox and Willam - her loyalties fresh and wildly self serving - but the fact that Jinkx is the one standing next to her and not someone else is strange, considering how close she and Sharon seem to be.

“Come on,” Jinkx says, her lethargic tone making it clear that she doesn’t share Alaska’s confusion. “I’ll give you a tour of the place.”

Alaska nods, curious to see the other bandits and eager to see the entire camp with fresh eyes, ones not blurred by panic and darkness. She follows Jinkx to the entrance of camp, Jinkx speaking cheerfully.

“We’ll start with the horses - but I suppose you already know where they are.” Jinkx laughs a little, still sounding sleepy and relaxed despite the gravity of what Alaska had tried to do just hours before.

Alaska fights back a blush, even though she really shouldn’t be surprised that Sharon told Jinkx about the previous night, or that Jinkx would tease her about it. The thought just makes Jinkx’s exclusion that much more odd. “So,” Alaska drawls, falling into step besides Jinkx as they reach the horses. “Why are you showing me what I already know, instead of planning over the information you don’t?”

Jinkx looks confused for a moment before her eyes light up in realization. “Well, I betrayed one of our girls to the law a couple years back for money,” she says calmly, patting a chocolate stallion’s neck almost absentmindedly. “Sharon forgave me, but I haven’t had her trust since.”

Alaska stares at her, slack jawed.

Jinkx holds her stare for a few moments, Alaska’s shock and horror growing with every second, before she suddenly breaks into laughter, making Alaska jump.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” she says, and Alaska has to take a moment to process what she’s saying before she’s frowning at the other woman, exaggerated to show her good humor.

“I’m sorry,” Jinkx says, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She smiles at Alaska good naturedly. “You just looked so suspicious, I couldn’t resist.”

“But I think there’s still some truth to it,” Alaska says, smiling back despite herself. “I don’t think I can trust you after that.”

Jinkx rolls her eyes. “Like you were going to trust me from the start,” she points out, and Alaska shrugs.

“If I had to choose someone to trust,” she says, “it would be you. You’re probably the most trustworthy one in this camp.”

Jinkx sighs, grin fading into something smaller, teeth hidden behind her lips. “That probably has something to do with why I’m not with Sharon right now.”

Alaska quirks an eyebrow in a silent request for Jinkx to continue, and Jinkx smirks a little, turning to stroke the stallion’s nose as he turns his head towards her.

“I love this life,” Jinkx says. “I love Sharon and these girls to death. I really think I would die anywhere else from pure heartache and misery. But I’m not suited for it. I did mess up a mission a while back - I’m the reason Detox even has a wanted poster. I offered to leave out of guilt,” Jinkx’s voice wavers just slightly, “but Sharon begged me to stay. Don’t get me wrong - I’m not here without doing anything. I just tend to stick to the domestic side.”

“How did you mess it up?” Alaska asks, enthralled, and Jinkx gives the stallion a final pat before turning to Alaska, smiling slyly.

“Let’s just say I can’t aim for shit and I ain’t got the stomach for shooting guns anyway,” she says. “Now, let’s go see where we keep the food.” And with that, she starts towards the wagon closest to the entrance, leaving Alaska no choice but to follow.

Alaska wants desperately to probe more, painfully curious about what happened and why Sharon had forgiven her, but it’s clear Jinkx doesn’t want to share. If Alaska had to guess, she still feels guilty, and Alaska is the last person she’d want to confide in about that.

She barely pays attention to Jinkx’s presentation on their food supply - “Canned beans: a real delicacy!” - as lost in her thoughts as she is, which is why she jumps three feet into the air when a heavily accented voice suddenly chimes in.

“Jinkx! Tri– who is she?”

The question is blunt, and Alaska can’t help but feel like it’s a rude way to ask. She turns to face a woman with sharp cheekbones, wild blonde hair, and sparkling eyes. Alaska raises an eyebrow at the bright red lipstick she’s wearing. “I could ask the same question,” she says dryly, but instead of the glare she’s expecting, she gets a wheezing laugh and an insane grin.

“I am an odd one, no?” the woman says. If Alaska had to guess, she would suppose the woman’s accent to be Eastern European, although it’s unlike anything she’s heard.

“This is Katya,” Jinkx says, voice warm. “She’s our doctor and, yes, a bit of an odd duck. Katya, this is Alaska, she–”

“Alaska!” Katya cries, throwing her hands in the air. “So this is our hostage!”

“Actually, we cut a deal,” Jinkx says, looking at Alaska as she says it. “She’s under our protection until Solomon’s no longer a threat.”

Katya’s eyebrows raise, her expression dimming a little, but not completely. “So we know where they are,” she says, and then she snorts. “I guess I’ll start stocking up on supplies - we have the money, right?”

Jinkx laughs, although there’s something like concern in her brow. “I’m sure Sharon will get it somehow,” she says. “Whether she’s smart enough to get it before getting herself hurt is the real question.”

Katya wheezes again, waving her hands with glee. Alaska reluctantly finds herself charmed by such openness.

“Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?” she asks, wondering if she even needs to be polite with this group. Katya’s eyes light up.

“Russia!” she says. “Родина! I miss her like I miss my own mother. Which is not at all.”

“So you left to get away from her?” Alaska asks, amused despite herself.

“And to be a doctor,” Katya says eagerly. “I thought I could make a career out in the American west, and I ended up getting picked up by Sharon. Which speaks for my skills, I’m sure.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a positive or a negative,” Alaska laughs, and Jinkx snorts.

“Definitely a negative,” she says. “Sharon just likes picking up strays, and she’s gotten good at coming up with excuses to keep them.”

“No,” Katya begins, mock-offended. “She keeps people who are skilled, and, dare I say, vital to her operation.”

“Oh, come on,” Jinkx groans. She waves at Alaska. “Alaska is living proof!”

Alaska stiffens, all good humor draining out of her body at the implication that she was just another “stray” for Sharon to keep, that she was anything like these criminals. That she’s going to stay longer than completely necessary. “I’d say I’m here for a pretty important reason,” she says, snappier than she intends. “And I doubt Sharon intends to ‘keep’ me.”

Jinkx looks a little surprised. “You’re right,” she says, after a beat. Her expression softens. “I’m sorry.”

Alaska nearly corrects her, a ‘No, I’m sorry’ on the tip of her tongue, but she bites it back. The thought of apologizing for her anger feels too foreign still - she has the right to be angry. Just because she’s starting to like Jinkx doesn’t mean she isn’t running around with the woman who’d burned her uncle’s house down and taken her away from everything familiar.

Just because the anger isn’t as hot anymore doesn’t mean she can’t still feel it burning.

She looks at Katya, slightly embarrassed at her little outburst, to find the smaller woman frowning at her, although it’s not ill-tempered. For a moment, she fears she’s going to ask more questions and Alaska won’t be able to reign her temper in, but instead she grants them all a small mercy by changing the subject.

“Anyway,” she says airily, poking fun at the tense atmosphere. “I came here for your services.” She looks at Jinkx as she says this, who immediately breaks out into a smile.

“Something to do with the letter in your hand?” she asks, tone teasing.

Katya blushes slightly. “I can’t write very well,” she says. “Not in English, and–”

“It needs to be perfect for a certain someone?” Jinkx finishes, and Katya’s smile is small and soft, a stark contrast to her usual blinding grin.

“I was thinking, I could speak it out for you, and you write what I say.”

Jinkx looks hesitant. “My handwriting isn’t great, but if no one else is willing…” She trails off, looking at Alaska thoughtfully. “You had a proper education, right?”

Alaska raises an eyebrow. “My handwriting is good, yes.”

“Could you?”

Alaska takes a moment to think, before shrugging and nodding. She’d done something similar for her friends back home, and she doesn’t see any harm in doing it for Katya.

Katya grins. “Excellent. Thank you - follow me!”

They trail after Katya to a covered wagon, filled with crates, a few loose rolls of bandages lingering in the crevices between boxes. A tarp is stretched out from the roof of it over two bedrolls and a crate serving as a counter, again filled with medical supplies. A few framed pictures litter a smaller crate next to the large one, along with a pen and some papers.

“So,” Alaska says, leaning against the wagon as Jinkx flops herself down onto one of the bedrolls, yawning. “Tell me all about him.”

“Who?” Katya asks, heading over to the desk.

“The guy who’s getting the letter I’m going to slave over,” Alaska says, teasing. “I think I deserve to know at least a little.”

“Oh! No, no,” Katya laughs. “Her name is Trixie, and she’s the prettiest woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Alaska feels the shock like a punch to her gut, and she just barely manages to school her expression into betraying nothing. She shouldn’t be surprised - these are criminals, outlaws. It makes sense for them to engage in crimes other than violent ones. She shouldn’t be surprised that - that–

“Do you want to read it?” Katya asks, oblivious to the turmoil churning in Alaska’s gut. “She has the loveliest writing. Though yours is wonderful too, I’m sure.”

“Thanks,” Alaska says vaguely, taking the letter without thinking. She looks down at it, reading the first lines.

Dearest Katya,

I suppose this is the place where I tell you all about the man who pissed himself yesterday because he was too drunk to find his way to the outhouse, or about the woman who dragged her husband out by his ear (only thirty seconds after he walked in, too - frankly, I’m impressed), but right now all I can think about is how much I miss talking to you. You don’t have a wife to drag you out of the saloon. At least, I’m pretty sure. I miss the way–

Alaska tears her gaze away, heart pounding. This is too much, too intimate–

“I’m sorry,” she says, straightening abruptly. “I have to go.”

Katya frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” Alaska says again, and sparing a glance at Jinkx, who’s fallen asleep, she walks away as quickly as she can.

The letter was sweet. Romantic, touching, whatever. It doesn’t matter because it is wrong.

She can’t stop thinking of Sharon.

It doesn’t make sense. She hates the woman - hates her. But her face seems to be burned into the backs of Alaska’s eyelids, her strange expression from earlier haunting every word of that letter.

Alaska heads into the woods without thinking, following a little dirt path downhill to a small stream trickling through the trees. She sits down by it, removing her socks and shoes and sticking her feet in, sighing at the blessed cool.

Maybe she doesn’t hate Sharon. Maybe she hates the way Sharon makes her feel, the strange thrall she seems to have over Alaska even despite the burning anger she can still conjure up when she thinks of the fire her uncle’s house had made.

These feelings aren’t new - she’s felt them before, despite the countless men that had evoked nothing more than a tinge of affection. She’d felt them for the girl at the fabric shop, with her curly dark hair and playful smile. She’d felt them for her best friend Courtney, before they’d faded in favor of a suitor’s older sister.

She hated herself with each woman, asked herself why she couldn’t just make life easier and love men. She’d accepted it after a small affair with the older sister, something about knowing people like her existed knocking the self-hatred out of her, but things hadn’t improved in the slightest.

She accepted that she would be miserable for the rest of her life somewhere around the age of twenty.

Nothing had changed that expectation in four years, until fifteen minutes ago.

With Katya’s unabashedness about sharing her letter, sinful in the eyes of the law, came a sort of permission. As an outlaw, it doesn’t matter what she does. She’s already broken one law - what more is a few?

It sends a fission of hope through Alaska, and no matter how hard she tries to squash it, it won’t go away.

These women have the freedom to be who they are, to do what they want. She’s known that - but she’s always associated it with violence and with anger. She’d thought of it as a relief for the things society creates so deeply within the soul.

She’s never thought of the freedom it gave love.

Despite herself, she allows a brief moment to picture herself staying. No more men. No more pressures. The privilege to have something real like Katya has, something that Alaska had resigned herself to never having.

It’s overwhelmingly tempting.

But something in her still resists, her principles and her pride keeping her from fully falling into the opportunity lying before her.

She reminds herself of what she’d have to do to get this freedom. Reminds herself of what Sharon did just to get her to this point.

This last thought succeeds in sparking rage within her, and Alaska vows to run as soon as Solomon hits the ground. She will not be this. She will not steal - will not murder - to serve herself. That’s what makes a criminal, and she refuses to become one.

She’s better than that.

🌸

Jinkx finds her just as the sun starts to set.

Alaska jumps as fingers touch her shoulder, and Jinkx whispers an apology.

“Katya told me what happened,” she says. “Are you okay?”

Alaska resents the lump of tears that immediately arises at the question, touched by the concern in a place where she feels so alone. She swallows it back. “I’m fine.”

“How long have you been here? Sharon’s pissed.”

“A few hours,” Alaska says, standing. “And she’s the one who told me about this creek.”

“I’ll be sure to remind her,” Jinkx says, smiling a little. “Come on. Alyssa’s got dinner going. Also, we need to get you out of that dress.”

“Thank god,” Alaska says, following Jinkx back up the trail. Her ribs are aching now, along with her back, and she’s pretty sure she’ll have some bruises once she finally gets it off. “I need this corset off now.”

“Demanding, aren’t we?” Jinkx says lightly, and Alaska snorts.

“You should see me back home - I’m a monster.” The thought of home tugs at her heart and whatever makes that lump of tears appear in her throat returns with a vengeance. Despite all its restrictions, she finds she still misses her home.

“I don’t doubt it,” Jinkx says.

They make the rest of the five minute walk in silence, Alaska shaking off the homesickness like she would a small chill. There’s no point in missing home, when she knows she’ll likely end up back there by the end of the summer, when she would have returned even without all of this.

But then why does she feel like she’ll never see it again?

She has no reason to think Sharon won’t uphold her end of the deal, and, despite herself, she trusts the other woman to stay honest with this. She puts it toward the fact that she’s just impatient for it all to be over, and then she drops the train of thought before she can overthink it. Overthinking never got her anything nice.

They emerge from the woods and head straight for the fire flickering in the middle of camp, where a lone figure sits.

As they approach the warmth of the fire, welcome on Alaska’s chilled skin - she hadn’t realized how cold Colorado could get at night, even in the middle of June - the lone figure reveals itself to be Sharon, who stands up as soon as they get close enough to see her face in the fire light.

“Where were you?” she demands, expression more intense than Alaska thinks is necessary. Jinkx hadn’t exaggerated - Sharon is clearly upset with her.

“The stream,” Alaska says, trying not to betray her surprise at Sharon’s less than warm welcome. “You know - the one you told me about?”

Sharon clearly isn’t charmed. “You shouldn’t go there alone,” she says. “I meant that I would take you there.”

“I think I can manage a stream on my own,” Alaska says, bristling. She may not be a gun wielding outlaw, but she isn’t helpless.

“Do you?” Sharon says, something sharp entering her tone. “Is that why you wanted our protection? So you could manage on your own?”

“Sharon,” Jinkx says, pressing a warm bowl of soup into Alaska’s hands. Alaska’s stomach growls at the smell - she hadn’t even realized how hungry she was.

“Jinkx,” Sharon says mockingly, and Jinkx rolls her eyes.

“If Solomon is lurking that close to camp, I think you might have some bigger things to worry about,” Alaska says, and Sharon’s eyebrows creep up her forehead.

“Oh, is Solomon himself all I have to worry about?” she asks, tilting her head. “Guess I’ll save my bullets on the cougars that live around here.”

Cougars. She hadn’t even - she suddenly feels stupid, like she’s started an argument she was only going to lose, and it makes anger flare red hot in her chest. “Guess that saves you a lot of trouble,” she snaps, and Sharon laughs bitterly. When she speaks next, there’s a dangerous edge to her voice.

“Jesus, if that’s the case, I’ll–”

“Sharon,” Jinkx says, and this time, Sharon falls silent, mouth snapping shut. She visibly takes a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes, frowning.

“Just-” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Just, tell me if you leave camp, alright? Eat your fucking stew.”

Alaska finds herself softening, albeit unwillingly. “Yes, ma’am,” she says, tone light, and she feels a rush of pleasure when the corner of Sharon’s mouth twitches into something like a smirk. She turns away, and Alaska is granted the wherewithal to wipe that pleasure away quickly, cheeks flushing.

“So,” Jinkx says from her place on a log, “how soon should I expect to be worried sick, now that you know where Solomon’s got himself wedged?”

“Not for a while - we’ve still got to come up with a solid plan,” Sharon says, letting out a long breath, hands on her hips. “It’s hard, with all the escape routes they have planned.”

“How long until they use one of them?”

“Not for at least a week - they think I don’t know where they are, so they won’t be in any rush. Preferably, when we attack, it’ll be easier with half their shit packed.”

Jinkx still looks worried. “It’ll be easier if you just don’t attack at all.”

Sharon laughs the suggestion away, sitting down next to Jinkx and giving her a quick hug. “I do love my Jinkxie,” she says, resting her head briefly on Jinkx’s shoulder before pulling away. She glances at Alaska as she does so, and Alaska quickly looks into her bowl of soup - this conversation clearly isn’t for her, no matter how fascinated she is by this new side of Sharon, so she takes the opportunity to eat.

The taste isn’t nearly as good as the smell, especially after her first few bites. The meat is stringy and hard to chew, and the vegetables are mushy. She tries not to gag, her stomach not allowing her to throw away food when she’s already had so little, but she still makes a face.

She’s most of the way through her bowl when the mention of her name grabs her attention.

“Alaska needs some clothes,” Jinkx is saying, leaning against Sharon’s side. “I can’t imagine what that corset is doing to her.”

“Jesus,” Sharon says, a little surprised. “I haven’t been in one for so long, I–” she cuts herself off, and Alaska wants so badly to hear the rest of the sentence. What does Sharon not want her to hear? “She’s not going to want to wear a corset for a little while, so Willam’s dresses are out.”

“And Alyssa’s will be too big.”

Sharon suddenly looks at her, and Alaska startles a little, feeling a little like she’s just been caught eavesdropping, despite the conversation being about her.

“Stand up,” Sharon orders, and Alaska obeys before she can think better of it.

Sharon stands with her, eyes running over her body in a way that makes Alaska grow too warm, and she shifts uncomfortably under her gaze. “You’re just so fucking tall,” Sharon bemoans, and Alaska grimaces.

“It’s been a problem,” she admits, and Sharon raises her eyebrows.

“Jesus, I’m sure. Well, I’m the tallest in the camp, so your best bet is with me. You’re finished?” she points at Alaska’s bowl.

“Yes.”

Jinkx yawns, stretching as she stands. “I’m heading to bed. You can handle her on your own?” she asks Sharon, and Sharon smirks.

“I’ve done it before.”

Alaska blushes. “If that’s wh–”

“Follow me!” Sharon interrupts cheerfully, and she’s heading towards her tent before Alaska can recover enough to continue her sentence.

Alaska fumes most of the way there, annoyed with Sharon and reluctant to spend any more time with her, but her anger fades as they near the tent, a small thrill running through her instead, heart pounding.

She’s about to get a glimpse into Sharon’s life - is she messy? Neat? Frugal? Extravagant? Are the walls lined with money? Does she keep some of the jewels the gang steals?

Sharon lifts the flap into the tent, and disappears inside, flap falling shut behind her. Alaska hesitates, unsure if she’s meant to follow.

“Well?” Sharon says, poking her head out. “Are you coming in, or are you planning on changing out here?” She holds the tent flap open for Alaska without waiting for an answer, and Alaska ducks inside, her wariness forgotten in the name of her curiosity.

It’s a tent.

Alaska nearly laughs at herself for building a fantasy in her head and expecting it to be reality, but it’s still disappointing to see two crates pushed together to create a messy table, a small set of old drawers, and a flat bedroll when the expectation was the grandeur of a queen.

“Now, don’t get too jealous,” Sharon says, shedding her overcoat to reveal a loose white shirt, partially unbuttoned. She tosses it carelessly to the floor, her hat quick to follow. “I came by it honestly.”

Alaska quickly averts her eyes, suddenly feeling warm when before she’d been chilly. A woman’s collarbone isn’t anything she hasn’t seen before, but something feels too intimate in the dim candlelight of Sharon’s tent.

The fact that it’s Sharon feels too intimate.

“Two jokes in one go,” Alaska drawls, trying to disguise her fluster by examining a compass with deep interest. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m flattered,” Sharon says, digging into the set of drawers. “But I did come by this shit honestly. It’s hardly worth stealing a bunch of empty crates.” She pulls out a white shirt and a long skirt. She tosses them at Alaska, who catches them instinctively.

“Here,” she says, smirking. “As much as I want you in pants, I don’t really see you in them.”

“Thank you,” Alaska says, and she really is grateful. To give up her dress feels like a surrender already, a way of giving in to this lifestyle, but to wear pants would have sealed the deal. Wearing pants is just another way for Sharon to stick it to the law, and Alaska has no desire to do the same.

But as she watches Sharon run a hand through her dark hair, her lips seemingly in a permanent pout when she’s not smirking, breaking the rules is starting to sound better and better.

Alaska jerks herself out of her thoughts, tearing her eyes away from Sharon’s face and shoulders and hips and landing somewhere around her boots.

“Thank you,” Alaska repeats, because her brain stopped working at some point within the last thirty seconds. “I think I’m ready to change.” She waits for Sharon to leave, to wait outside for her to change, but Sharon doesn’t even shift in that direction.

“Great,” Sharon says, and to Alaska’s horror, she starts coming closer.

“What are you doing?” she snaps out, stepping back. Sharon stops, and when Alaska looks back up at her face, she’s giving her a strange look.

“I figured you needed help with your corset,” she says slowly. “Unless they’ve changed the design sometime in the last six years.” Her tone is dry, teasing, but there’s a hint of uncertainty hidden within that has Alaska’s heart softening, and her curiosity piquing.

Not for the first time, she feels an unbelievable need to know this woman, but she hasn’t got a clue on where to start.

“No,” Alaska says, embarrassed. “They haven’t. Thank you.”

Sharon smirks, and she slips behind Alaska, nearly silent. Alaska shivers.

“Here,” Sharon says, and suddenly her hand is grazing the nape of Alaska’s neck, brushing her hair out of the way. Alaska jumps a little at her touch, goosebumps raising up all over her body. She mouths sorry wordlessly, the air suddenly electric, and she moves her hair so that it lays over her shoulder.

Sharon hums her thanks, and her hand moves to the top button of Alaska’s dress, touch never leaving her skin. Alaska takes a deep breath in through her nose, trying to calm her pounding heart as Sharon unbuttons button after button, fingers painfully slow.

She can feel Sharon’s breath ghost along the skin of her newly exposed back, and she miraculously holds back another shudder.

She feels Sharon tug at the knot at the bottom of her corset a few times, and a huff of frustration soon follows.

“Who tied this fucking knot?” Sharon whispers, seemingly to herself, but Alaska can’t resist replying, relieved at the break from the tension.

“It’s on purpose,” Alaska says, voice quiet. An owl hoots somewhere in the woods. “My uncle’s maidservant was convinced I was going to sleep with every man that my uncle had over, so she did everything in her power to prevent it.”

Sharon laughs softly, still tugging at the knot. “Doesn’t she know the only thing you need is the strength to lift up a skirt?”

Heat crawls up to Alaska’s cheeks, but she laughs despite herself, the shock of the remark blasting past any sort of reserve she had within her. “Jesus Christ!”

Sharon laughs again, and with one final tug, the knot comes loose. “Thank fuck,” she murmurs, loosening the rest of the ribbon. Alaska can’t help but moan at the relief it gives her, and Sharon’s fingers stutter strangely for a moment.

“You okay back there?” Alaska asks, and Sharon snorts.

“Fine.” She sets a hand on Alaska’s back, making her breath catch. “Done,” she says, and then Alaska feels the heat of her lean closer, next to her ear. “I’ll leave you to it.” Her voice is low, sultry, and it makes Alaska’s stomach dip. “Though I’ll be sorry to miss the show.”

She’s out of the tent far too fast for Alaska to even turn around, and Alaska is left to change alone.

If she unbuttons her corset with more vigor than usual, it’s because she’s pissed.

No other reason.

#rpdr fanfiction #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #jinkx monsoon #katya zamolodchikova #shalaska #trixya #wild west au #western au #cowboy au #lesbian au #wild flower #freyja #tw interrogation #tw kidnapping #tw internalized homophobia

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