#I do miss my cabin in the valley sometimes

[saltydumplings]

Can I request a vampire and a werewolf hanging out, talking about their terrible and eternal curses that robbed them of their humanity?

Request #31

I feel like this turned out a lot cuter than the request suggested, lol.

"I miss the sun," the vampire started. They were sat on the porch steps of a cabin, staring out at the dark woods around them. "I feel like my world is missing colour. Like the second I got bit my sight switched over to grayscale."

Beside them, following their gaze, the werewolf could almost understand that. The forest looked so vibrant during the day: glowing green in amber light, speckled with the red and brown of mushrooms and the white of clustered flowers; there were pink blossoms in spring, and in the fall the valley was overcome with orange - that single colour sweeping through everything in its path without remorse or signs of stopping. The moonlight ruined that though. It washed it out, and the shadows dulled whatever remained.

"I can understand that," the werewolf said after some consideration. "It must be hard, only ever seeing half of what the world has to offer."

The vampire hummed. "Warmth too. I miss days when I could just lie in the sun."

The werewolf took the confession as an invitation to move closer. They repositioned themself behind the other's back, arms encircling the vampire's waist whilst their nose nuzzled against their neck - taking in their scent slowly.

"I miss my control," the werewolf admitted. "I hate having days that I don't remember. Days that could change everything for me - and usually never in a good way."

Nothing was scarier than waking up in the middle of nowhere, alone, not knowing what had come before that. Sometimes they'd find blood under their fingernails or fresh injuries like something else had tried to mawl or ensnare them.

"Perhaps I can remember those days for you," the vampire offered. "To the best of my ability - if you like."

The werewolf paused, a little taken aback. "You would do that for me?"

The vampire leaned back into them, turning to place a kiss against the werewolf's forehead. "Of course I would. It's the least I could do."

In response, the werewolf let out a small rumble of a sound as they returned the affection, first kissing the vampire's lips and then their neck - pulling them in closer still.

"Maybe I can return the favour: provide enough shade for a sunset. Sunrise, even, if you're feeling brave."

The vampire chuckled, hands locking around the werewolf's own. "Brave? I think you have me mistaken for another vampire."

"Hmm, well, certainly brave enough to share a bed with a wolf."

"How else would I stay warm in winter?"

"Ah, so I'm just a glorified radiator now then?" the werewolf asked.

"Yes, amoung other things..." the vampire teased.

"Other things?" The werewolf let out a low growl, tail wagging behind them in a playful manner. "You want to expand upon that?"

All too happily their partner complied. "Well, you're also a spectacular pillow. Very comfy. Not to mention a pretty reliable chair - sometimes even a footstool when you're in one of those moods where you just like to curl up on the floor and--"

"I'll show you who's a footstool!" the werewolf declared suddenly, standing and taking the vampire with them as they turned back towards the cabin.

The other let out a startled yelp that broke into giggles, struggling lightly as the werewolf threw them over their shoulder. "Werewolf, no! D-Down!"

"Down?! Oh, you're in trouble now!"

They went inside, laughing, closing the door behind them softly with the vampire tucked tight between their arms.

The curtains closed soon after.

An hour later and pink light was spilling across the sky, the werewolf peeking out at it whilst their partner slept contentedly on the bed - lovingly bundled up to their chin in blankets.

One day, the werewolf thought. One day they could share this.

But not just yet...

[judeable-brainrot]

A House in Nebraska (song fic inspired by Ethel Cain (mother))

Cowboy!Art Donaldson x Cowboy!Patrick Zweig | this is a really angsty thing but i’m back in my Ethel Cain era so let me live my life..enjoy!😝

Labored breaths and bed sores, sing it to me all day long | When the aching sound of silence used to be our favorite song | You and me against the world, you were my man and I your girl | We had nothing except each other, you were my whole world

Patrick and Art had always had a peculiar relationship compared to most other men on the ranch. They did ever job assigned as one, making ever endeavour a two person job. They slept in the same cabin, in the same room, in the same bed. And while they garnered funny looks and whispers from the other cowboys and ranch hands, one quick glare from Patrick was enough to silence any actual comments. Other men in the same cabin knew that they were not to disturb their room, no matter what distressing or stomach flipping sounds were heard from the other side of the door. Little would they ever know how deeply they actually felt for one another.

Usually during late nights, they would both lay together in the dark, the light of the moon slipping through the window over their bare bodies. They lay there in each other's arms, breathing in the still western air. No words were spoken, no moans or whimpers or pleas. Just a easy silence blanketed over the both of them as they dreamed and imagined life outside of the hills and plains of Nebraska. A world for just the two of them

Then the day came and you were up and gone | Where you told me even if we died tonight, that I'd die yours

But of course, nothing lasts forever. Eventually, due to a pressure of a promotion and the homophobic environment taking its toll, Art was gone. Left early one morning, no goodbye, no note left behind. Patrick awoke cold and alone and without his home. Sure, the cabin was still standing, but his real home was gone with the wind and he never knew if he would come back to house him. He cried for days, not leaving his bed. He locked the door so the other ranch hands wouldn't barge in to bother him. He lay there miserable, thinking of all their moments together.

Nights together where they felt like the only two people alive. Their first meeting where Patrick made Art laugh so hard and he swore then and there he would hear that laugh everyday for the rest of his life. The last night they were together making love and Art said that if someone barged in and found them out, at least he would die devoted to Patrick. He'd never cum so hard in his life than when he heard those words. And now he was here.

Your mama calls me sometimes to see if I'm doing well | And I'd lie to her and say that I'm doing fine | When, really, I'd kill myself to hold you one more time | And it hurts to miss you, but it's worse to know that I'm the reason you won't come home

Patrick got a few calls from Art's mother, asking where he was, how he was. That meant he hadn't gone home to New Rochelle. He was gone, truly. She asked how he was doing and Patrick would lie and say he was doing good, work keeping him busy. But that was all a facade. He was miserable and every night when he returned to that empty, cold bed, he felt the thought of taking his own life well up so strong it nearly brought him to his knees.

He would sleep but all he could dream of was a vast expanse of field where he stood alone calling Art's name for hours. He felt responsible, like he had driven Art away somehow. He replayed every last interaction, conversation, touch, searching for anything that would help him understand why he had left. But there was nothing. It made him sick.

You know, I still wait at the edge of town | Praying straight to God that maybe you'll come back around | I cry every day and the bottles make it worse | 'Cause you were the only one I was never scared to tell I hurt

Patrick would often ride his mare to the top of the tallest hill in the valley and sit there for hours, the wind whipping against his skin. He would sit there and pray for Art's return, hoping that being so high up would make God answer his prayer quicker. He doesn’t. Patrick turns to drinking, the next best option for drowning his sorrows, but that too isn’t helpful. It’s painful. He gets drunk and imagines Art is there, cooing into his ear to be safe, not get too drunk. His hands on his body, soothing and soft and gentle. Patrick cries every time. He sobs into the pillow that used to be Art’s and whispers all his pain into it, like he used to do with Art. Art was the only one who knew his pain.

And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night | But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright

It’s close to 3 months when it hits Patrick one day. The sorrowful peace. Art’s never coming back to him. And he feels..better. Okay. A piece of his heart is always going to be missing without him, always. But all he can do is get on with his life and hope that Art is doing alright, wherever he ended up. Hope that he knows that he still loves him no matter what. Hope that he knows that even despite how lonely and broken he’s become, he’s still devoted to him until the reaper catches up to him. Maybe then, he’ll see him again.

[schmergo]

So I know there are over 430 sites in the National Parks System but only 63 official National Parks. The rest have designations like National Monuments, National Historic Sites, and all that jazz. But sometimes you hear about one of these lesser parks jumping up the ranks to become a National Park.

Now, I know a lot of bureaucracy goes into determining the qualifications for these categories, but a little fantasy makes life on this cold unfeeling space rock more bearable, so I like to imagine these promotions happen because the landscape just… got cooler.

Picture a young park ranger making his rounds at Chattahoochee National Forest, making sure there are no fires or anything, when he steps into a familiar clearing and freezes in place. He takes off his sunglasses and stares like Sam Neill in Jurassic Park. A 4-mile long, 5,000 foot deep canyon has opened up overnight. “Well, that’s gonna mess with the Ruby Falls trail,” he whispers.

That evening when he gets back to his cabin, he hops on his Park Ranger group chat, ready to share the good news. Turns out his friend Steve in Arizona got there first.

“New waterfall just dropped.”

“What?”

“Yeah, there’s a huge waterfall in the middle of the Sonoran Desert.”

“That should definitely promote it from lame National Monument status, right?”

“I don’t know, did you hear about the Ohio redwood?”

“Is that just what it sounds like?”

“Yeah, a 300 foot redwood tree grew in the backyard of the James A. Garfield National Historic Site and they didn’t upgrade that one.”

“Okay, but historic parks don’t really have that upward mobility, Steve. Like, it’s not gonna get more historic.”

“A giant redwood in Ohio is pretty historic! I heard it’s all politics. They already made Cuyahoga Valley a National Park and they’re not gonna do another Ohio one so soon.”

The ranger vaguely remembers another interesting story that had been rumbling around the group chat. “Becca, how are those crystals coming along?”

A few months before, his colleague Becca had been giving a tour at Blanchard Springs Caverns in Ozark National Forest when she stumbled upon a hither-to unseen chamber in the caverns filled with hundreds of iridescent flower-shaped crystals that gently sang in four-part harmony when water dripped onto them.

“Oh yeah, some higher-ups from NPS came by and took some notes, but they said keep an eye on the crystals and let them know if they multiply into the thousands or if we identify any incidents of missing body parts regrowing after rubbing one of the crystals.”

“That seems like overly harsh criteria.”

“That’s what I said. Apparently Carlsbad Caverns has one that can regrow kidneys. But only kidneys for some reason.”

“That’s weird. New River Gorge became a National Park and it’s way less cool than your crystals.”

“It’s my understanding there were some classified elements at play.”

The young ranger leans back and takes a deep pull from his Gatorade. He knows what “classified” means for the NPS. Those darn sasquatches.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #157

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

The following is a continuation of Brain Curd #155.

Madison opened the refrigerator. Inside was an assortment of condiments, mostly: two identical jars of mayonnaise, five kinds of ketchup with various peppers added for spice, a dijon mustard, a yellow mustard, sriracha, sweet and dill pickle relish, barbecue sauce, steak sauce, soy sauce, fish sauce, hot sauce, worcestershire sauce, and Hidden Valley ranch.

There were also sticky puddles of indiscernible origin all along the floor of the fridge.

“Ew.” She said. “You have bad taste in ranch, Oren!”

“Grrraugh!”

Behind the mayo, Madison found a carton of eggs and a gallon of milk, both a day past their pull dates. She sniffed the milk and it seemed fine. She dropped one of the eggs in a cup of water and it floated about halfway up the glass. Still good, though probably not great for over-easy.

The cupboard was mostly empty, but it did have a can of corned beef hash. This would have to do. She spooned it out onto a hot oiled cast iron pan and pressed it to the surface, then cracked the eggs into a measuring cup and added a splash of milk, plus salt, pepper, and just a dab of hot sauce. She fork-whisked it and poured it into a nonstick pan with scratches on the bottom (she figured it was Oren’s problem if he wanted to keep using a damaged pan, not hers).

She piled the eggs and hash onto the plate in two pinkish hemispheres and served it to Oren, still sitting on the couch. He looked at it and drooled.

“Brraaaaiins?”

“Oh, duh!” Madison hit herself on the forehead with the base of her palm. “You’re right, I forgot to bring you a fork! Just a moment.”

She left to get a utensil, but only moments later when she returned with one, Oren had already demolished the whole plate. Bits of potato were strewn about his hands and grinning face.

“Uh… I’m glad you liked it?”

“Urraaaugh!”

“No, it was fully cooked! I guess I could have crisped up the hash a little more, but I can never get a good crust.”

A loud honk came from outside. Madison ran to the door to look and saw a bright yellow Hummer parked diagonally in the middle of the road. The driver honked again.

“I think that’s my mom,” She said as she collected her phone and charger from the wall. “Thank you so much, Oren!”

“Ourrelllllluuughhm.” Oren said before falling face first onto the coffee table.

Madison climbed up into the cabin of the Hummer and hugged her mom. “Why are you driving Dennis’ car?”

Mom shrugged. “He doesn’t need it anymore.”

The two of them drove off, barely noticing as they ran over a Prius and a cat.

[jgmartin]

HEADLIGHTS [short horror]

It started last week.

The lockdown, I mean.

Before that, things weren’t great but they weren’t awful. We weren’t the happiest place on earth, but we weren’t jumping off bridges either. We just were. We managed, is what I’m trying to say.

Now years of impoverished alcoholism have reared their head. The lockdown’s done its job. It’s kept us safe from the devil outside our walls, but sometimes it’s the devil inside that does the most harm. Sometimes it’s the thinking. The thinking, thinking, thinking.

That’s what does you in.

My town’s main industry has been on the decline for decades. These days most of us are on food stamps. We can’t afford to live here anymore, but can’t afford to move either. Catch 22.

A few years back the government opened up a compound on the hill, a research facility for military-types and the super geniuses you see on TV. A few weeks later, they announced the town would enter a lockdown. Something about a radiation leak. Something about acid rain.

Since it started there’s been one dead and nine missing. How’d the dead guy go? If you're wondering, it wasn’t radiation. It was self-loathing. They found Benny West near the woods with a smoking handgun beside what was left of his head, and a suicide note so wet with blood that nobody could read the damn thing.

Famous last words? We never knew them. But then, I don’t think any of us really needed to. You could still smell the booze on Benny’s breath, could still see decades of struggle etched into every line of his face.

As for the missing? They’re a tougher puzzle. Nobody’s found them. Nobody’s had any contact with them whatsoever. Not a text. Not a call. Not even a dusty email.

It’s odd, but maybe they’d just had enough, couldn’t take this place anymore and finally decided the lockdown was the worst of it. What’s the phrase? The last straw. Yeah, that’s what the lockdown was for them.

The last straw.

Since it all started, I’ve been going stir crazy. Being cooped inside with nothing to do but drink and watch TV will do that to a man. I think that’s why I did it, you know? Took a midnight stroll. Loneliness is a strange beast and it doesn’t pick and choose it’s time of day, but if I had to place it I’d say it always gets worse at night. There’s something about the dark that suffocates. Makes you feel vulnerable. Singled out.

So I went to her cabin.

My old highschool sweetheart. Vanny Williams– the only girl I’ve ever met that could shoot a target with her eyes closed and still hit a bullseye. The girl I called the love of my life, who left me after nine years because I couldn’t wake up in the morning without a shot of whisky.

That night, I needed her. Maybe I wanted to make amends, or maybe I just wanted somebody familiar, somebody warm who I could feel a sense of connection with. I don’t know. All I really knew is I couldn’t last another night alone in my cabin. Not with the whisky. Not with the .45.

So I set off.

The government was taking the lockdown seriously. One of my neighbors, Roger Huckbrite got a lashing from the sheriff for wandering around drunk after dark. They knocked out three of his teeth and told him next time they’d break his legs.

“No wandering at night,” they told him. “Otherwise those broken legs will be a mercy, Rog.”

I had a thing for my legs. I liked walking, liked kicking a ball and most of all I liked hitting the gas pedal of my truck. I didn’t want broken legs, so I stayed off the main roads and stuck to the logging roads. Hell, I didn’t even drive. Too conspicuous, I figured.

So I set those legs to work and took a walk. To the right of me was the hillside, all brush and boulders with the military facility up top, and to my left was the valley. Charmouth Forest. On the other side of those trees was Vanny Williams, but walking straight through them was a death trap. See, that night it wasn’t just dark, it was snowing, and where there was snow there was ice, and I didn’t want to risk a sprained ankle going down that valley slope. Not without cell service. Not when the weather called for a cold snap tonight.

So I kept to the side of the road with my eyes and ears on, and as I walked something caught my attention. It was above me. All the way up on the top of the hill, nestled near the military facility. Headlights. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that those lights belonged to the sheriff, holed up there in his SUV and looking for cars on the roads breaking curfew.

Too bad for him that I was smarter than that. I didn’t just leave my truck at home, I made sure to wear my black jacket and keep close to the treeline. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was spotting me down here. Even still, his presence made my skin crawl. There’s something uncomfortable about being watched, and even though I knew the sheriff couldn’t see me, it still felt tense to be breaking the law right under his nose.

I decided I ought to disappear. Just until I got myself firmly away from his field of view. So I slipped into the woods, keeping certain not to stray too far from the road– just far enough that I lost sight of the sheriff beyond the canopy of fir trees.

I walked like that for maybe five or ten minutes. Kept it up until I rounded the bend in the road, and then I poked my head out and breathed a sigh of relief. The headlights were nowhere to be seen. The sheriff either took off, or I put enough twists and turns between us that the trees were now obscuring his view. Maybe he just figured nobody would break curfew on a night this cold.

Either way, it was good news for me.

I hiked back up to the road and then froze. Again I felt that familiar, uncomfortable sensation of being watched, like there was somebody stalking me in the dark. I looked back up the hill, wondering if I'd missed the sheriff's somehow but–

Light blinded me.

I stumbled backward, slipping on a patch of ice and falling onto my ass. Ahead, near the curve in the road sat a pair of headlights. The sheriff. But how? The son of a bitch must have been scanning the road with binoculars, maybe some fancy night-vision ones borrowed from the military types.

I groaned, getting up to my feet. He was still a fair distance away, far enough that he probably couldn't make out my face through my toque and hood.

That meant I could still get away.

I shot off into the woods, slipping down the valley slope and sliding over dirt and leaves and fresh fallen snow. I jumped and dipped, doing the best I could to dodge the onslaught of stray branches and renegade roots. I kept at it until my lungs got hot and I needed to breathe. Then I kept at it some more until I reached the valley floor.

Breathing hard, I looked back at the top of the slope. If I thought it was dark up on the road, then down here it was practically pitch black. It was all I could do to see the ground directly in front of me, but despite it all I knew one thing for certain: there weren’t any headlights.

I took a moment to lean up against a tree. Catch my breath. Get my bearings. I had to figure out which direction Vanny’s house was in. Was it to the North? North-East? The cold nipped at my ears, bit at my nose. It was worse down here. Frigid.

The damn sheriff really made a mess of things.

My hands dug in my pocket and pulled out my flashlight. I'd brought it along just in case things got too dark to navigate, and boy was I happy I did. Since I couldn't see the sheriff's headlights through the canopy of trees, I knew there was no way he'd see the glow of my flashlight either.

I flicked it on.

Good. That was better. Shivering, I used the light to navigate as best I could, spotting familiar landmarks that I remembered from playing in the valley as a kid and using those to plot my course. A big boulder here. A broken tree there.

It was all coming back to me. With any luck, I'd make it out of here before frostbite set in, and I'd get to Vanny's with all my fingers and toes in tact. She'd like that. Probably call me a damn fool for going to such trouble for a cup of coffee with her, but then I never said I was a genius.

Something snapped behind me.

A tree branch, maybe? It sounded big. I paused, wheeling around and casting my light as far as it would go. I couldn’t see anything but the shadow of tree trunks and fresh fallen snow. I knew for a fact that there were bears in those woods, but surely they’d be hibernating by this time of year.

“Hello?” I whispered. I didn’t think the sheriff had the dexterity to chase me down here on foot, but it was possible he sent his partner after me. “Deputy Marigold?”

No reply. Come to think of it, I couldn’t hear any sound at all. Not the pitter-patter of squirrels hoarding winter food, or even the flap of wings flying through the trees. The forest was silent. Still.

Another snap. This time, bigger. It rang out like a gunshot and I scrambled, running blindly backwards as my ears filled with the sound of rushing branches, ricocheting off timber as something plummeted toward the earth. A tree.

A fir branch whipped across the back of my jacket, smashing me to the ground and taking the breath out of my lungs. The ground rumbled as the tree crashed next to me.

I wheezed. Gasped for breath. I rose onto my hands on knees, freeing myself from the branch and trembling with adrenaline. I'd nearly just been flattened, and I couldn’t even tell where the tree had fallen from or what caused it. The dark was thick enough that my light didn't stretch far.

No, I told myself. No time to go investigating.

I wiped snow from my face, teeth chattering. I had to keep moving. Just a little further and I’d be out of these woods and in front of a hot fireplace, making coffee with the warmest woman I knew.

Besides, it wasn't that big a deal. Sometimes trees fell. That's just how nature worked-- it wasn't something you could predict.

I carried on for another few minutes when my stomach twisted. There it was again. That feeling. The same one I'd had up on the road, that feeling of being watched. Stalked. I swung my light around, doing my best to illuminate the snow-covered trees and brush, but I could barely see ten feet in front of me.

"Hello?" I tried again.

No reply. If there was a deputy down here, then surely they'd have made a sound when that tree came down, right? Of course they would. He'd have had to ask if I was okay, if I was still alive if only to properly fill out his report back at the station.

That meant it was my imagination. Just a bit of paranoia.

They say a dark forest is the ultimate evolutionary fear. The perfect embodiment of the unknown. Our ancestors didn't roam the woods at night because just about everything that lived there could see or hear them before they knew they were there. Some of those things were bigger than them, too. Hungrier.

But I wasn't some neanderthal, hunter-gatherer. I was smarter than that, and besides I could finally see the other end of the valley. The slope that led to Vanny's cabin. The lights of her windows peeking through the trees.

A low groan filled the night, distorted like a scratching record.

I spun around. My ears strained for the sound of footsteps, the sound of breathing but I couldn't hear a damn thing but my heart slamming in my chest. Was that the sound of an animal? If it was, it wasn't any animal I'd ever heard, and I'd lived next to these woods my whole life.

“Is somebody out there?” I called. An awful feeling took hold in my gut, replacing the creeping sensation of being watched. Now I felt like I was being hunted.

"Fuck this," I muttered. I took off at a sprint, racing toward Vanny's house as fast as my feet could trample the snow. It crunched beneath my boots, my breath coming in great white clouds. If there was some psychopath in the trees then I wasn't about to wait around and make this easy for them.

A screech pierced the forest. Wings thundered as birds fled from the tree-tops in droves, filling my ears with their cries. Another screech followed, this one lower-pitched. Snow crunched beneath feet. Not mine.

Something was walking toward me.

Time to move. I scrambled at the slope, struggling to find purchase against the icy incline. I slipped, falling, falling. My jaw smashed into a rock. The taste of blood filled my mouth, my vision swimming as I tumbled down the side of the valley, crashing against a tree at the bottom.

“Get away from me!” I coughed, spitting out one of my teeth. I felt dizzy as I got back to my feet, disoriented, but I held my ground, staring defiantly into the dark wall of trees and my unseen assailant.

“I’m armed,” I lied “If I were you, I’d turn right around and start walking, otherwise you’re getting my .45 between the eyes.”

Footsteps crunched beyond my vision. Whatever was out there sounded big, big as a bear or a moose. Now it was circling me. Was this what had knocked over that tree? Had it been following me this whole time?

Another screech, this one deafening. My head rang with the sound of it, reverberating around my skull like an exploding nail bomb. I clenched my ears and fell to my knees. Tears stained my cheeks, freezing in the air.

Light blinded me.

I shielded my eyes, stunned and disoriented as two headlights beamed down at me not ten feet away. I scrambled backward, confused. The sheriff? The hell was he doing down here? How did he get his SUV down that incline, let alone through all those trees?

The headlights began to sway, moving closer to me. No, that wasn't right. Headlights weren't supposed to sway, and wheels weren't supposed to sound like footsteps either. The crunch of the snow was like a bell tolling, each step marking me a moment closer to death.

"What are you?" I screamed, emptiness filling me up inside. Suddenly I felt weak. Hopeless. It was as though just being near this thing was killing my will to live. If I had my .45 with me, I'd have pressed it to my skull and pulled the trigger as many times as it took.

The headlights reached out. A long, twisted and gnarled arm that looked like it ought to have belonged to a tree grabbed me by my torso, snapping my ribs like twigs. I threw back my head and screamed.

A voice reached my ears, something deep and cold. Colder than winter.

It sounded familiar. It sounded like it lived at the bottom of every whisky bottle I'd ever drank, like the whispers in my head every time I'd fucked up, every time I'd made a mistake so bad I wished I was dead.

"I," said the voice, "... want to taste your misery."

______________________________________

This is the part where I tell you I managed to get away. That I kicked the creature in its giant, glowing eyes and made a beeline up the slope and never saw it again. I wish I could say that was the truth, I really do.

But the truth is much worse.

The truth is that Vanny Williams saved my life that night. Maybe she heard my screams. Maybe she just had a feeling that something wasn't right, that somebody was in trouble. Honestly, I don't even know if she knew it was me. Vanny was the sort of girl that'd go out of her way to help anybody.

She came out of her cabin and did what she did best: hunted. She rained bullets onto those headlights, distracting them, pissing them off enough that they let me be and ran off.

Ran to her.

Six bullets to its head, and still it climbed the slope of the valley like an anthill. Six bullets to its head, and still it took her screaming into the trees. Now she’s another statistic. One of the missing. The sheriff's calling me crazy for what I saw, telling everybody that I’m a drunk and Vanny just had enough and skipped town like the rest.

I know what I saw, though, and I think the folks at the military facility know too. The feeling I had beneath the glare of those headlights was like nothing I'd felt before, a hopelessness that's difficult to put into words. Simply put, I'd have taken death over another second of it. Even if that death came by my own hand.

Ever since that happened the military's been watching me. They've been driving by my house from sunrise to sunset, and more than once I've spotted somebody going through my trash. I've tried reaching out to news organizations but nobody wants to run my story. Even now, in the dead of night they're out there. Maybe they don't think I'm awake, or maybe they've just given up all pretense of keeping a low profile. I don't know. All I know is I can see them through the crack in my blinds, waiting patiently in my driveway.

Two headlights in the dark.

[deepseacritter]

Getting to know mutuals!

Thanks to @rainofaugustsith for the tag! I loved GUTS and Legends of the Hidden Temple. Always wanted to be on those shows...I’d probably crush them now hehe.

Also, the whole touching old stuff. Ahhhhh yes! I went to Crete a few years ago and I wanted to touch all the things. Some of the ruins are 6000 years old...how can I not want to touch? Anyway...5 things about me.

1. I was an avid diver until moving to Alaska. I’ve been wreck/shark diving off the Atlantic coast (no cage), have done many wreck dives in Lakes Erie and Huron, and the St. Lawrence Seaway. I also used to solo river dive a few miles from Niagara Falls.

2. I’ve spent over 100 days at sea in the Bering Sea and Arctic on research vessels that were once crab fishing vessels (so, not some luxury research boat). Saw lots of whales, polar bears, and walrus. We went though some cool storms, with waves swells 15-20 feet. It was one hell of a ride during those times. Loved it.

3. At one point I lived in a cabin that had no running water, indoor plumbing, or a bathroom. So I used and outhouse and had to haul water from a service station (the Water Wagon), and shower at the university. I did my laundry up the hill at a bar/restaurant/liquor store/gas station/mail room/general store.

4. I love doing crafts. So many crafts. I’ve won awards at county fairs for some of my stuff. People ask why I don’t sell things, and honestly I have a hard time parting with things I’ve made. Also...years of customer service work has not made me too keen to work with people like that again.

5. I collect Furrybones figurines 😆 They’re adorable. I’ve got like 50 of them so far. They fit nicely with my decor, which is half Halloween and black cats and half mermaid and beaches.

[galacticgraffiti]

May I request some Fennec filth? Her finding and reacting to you masturbating with one of her shirts/an article of clothing?

Hello my beautiful peach custard pie!

This request - as many others - has been sitting in my inbox for quite a while, but I was finally in the appropriate mood to write this. I know I say this often, but I love love love writing for Fennec - I don't do it often enough. I hope you like the direction I took this in!

Wordcount: 4.1k Warnings: domesticity, Fennec smokes because why not it's hot, female masturbation, getting caught getting off, super soft Fennec, memories of fingering, talks of plugging, talks of anal, talks of strap-ons, one (1) line of degradation (reader is called slut [affectionate]), praise, so much dirty talk, oral (f receiving - Fennec receiving)

!!! NSFW/18+ !!!

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You hate it, this gnawing, aching need inside you. You want to scream at your body, she is not here, she had to go on a hunt, leave me alone.

It has barely been a few days, but you miss Fennec like crazy. She got called in for a target, a high-profile one – you can’t even remember what the name was that Fennec mentioned before she left. And usually it does not bother you when she leaves, you are always sure she will return unharmed, because she has always has. But this time, it does bother you. This was supposed to be a vacation, a getaway for the two of you. Just a few days off from the job.

You had been so excited when you left for Serenno – the two of you have rented a cabin in the mountains for the week. You had been here for the entirety of two days before Fennec was called away. Just a couple days, no more, she had promised. It has been three days now. She checks in regularly even though the holonet is kind of patchy in this area of the planet, so it’s text comms only, never holocalls.

And you miss her, you miss talking to her and hearing her beautiful voice. You miss seeing her face and having her hands, her lips on you. This cabin has everything you could have wished for, Fennec really spared no expense – a sauna, a whirlpool overlooking the mountainside down into the deep green forests of the valley; even a little sunroom for you to read in. When you packed your books, you did not really think you would get to read much – not with the way Fennec looked at you before she left. Not when you saw the contents of her bag.

The memory of it makes you tingle, her mouth on yours as she whispers You won’t be able to stand anymore when I’m done with you, sweet girl.

You sigh deeply. By now, you are more than glad that you have packed so many books, because that is all you have been doing these past few days – reading and reading, in the hot tub, between saunas, while eating… There is not much else to do, as beautiful as it is. Fen made you promise not to go into the mountains without her before she left, and you intend to keep that promise. The mountains are dangerous.

Walking around aimlessly in the house for a bit, you try to decide on what to do next. Your body knows exactly what it wants to do, that deep, longing ache in your belly has been growing since the day Fennec left. It has become distracting – you find yourself staring at the pages of your books without reading any of the letters while all you can think about is Fennec. That cocky grin of hers, how she catches you in her strong arms every time you run to welcome her back. How her eyes darken when you get on your knees for her, what she sounds like when you bury your face in her perfect pussy. How she always praises you because she knows you like it, her good girl ringing in your ears even as you shake your head to get rid of the thought.

Fennec is intoxicating to be around, and though she sometimes has to leave for days, weeks even, you would not take anyone else over her in the entire galaxy. No one makes you feel like she does, so happy and warm inside. So in love.

You stop your aimless roaming in front of the bedroom and decide it’s as good a thing to do as any to go in. Groaning, you plop down on the bed, burying your face in the sleep shirt Fennec left behind when she hastily packed for what was supposed to be a short trip. It smells like her – cold cigarra smoke and a little bit of spice, and some flower you can’t quite place. When you started dating, you did not think you would ever come to like the smell of cold smoke or spice, but by now it has grown so familiar that you can not imagine her smelling like anything else. That smell is tied to so many pleasant memories that the pure scent of it makes your spine tingle. It feels almost like you are in a trance when you undress and pull her shirt over your head, hugging yourself tight. The smell makes it feel almost like it is her that is hugging you. Almost.

Your cheeks heat up when you think about the last time Fennec had her arms wrapped around you before she left, her face buried between your tits as you ground into her lap, moaning and sighing quietly until she fell back to pull you over her face and bury her tongue inside your cunt until you nearly broke the headboard.

It’s a good memory, so good that you let your hand slip down to trace the outline of your nipples against the thin material of Fen’s shirt without thinking about it. So good that the tingle that runs down your spine only makes you want more. You absently pull the shirt up to your nose again, deeply inhaling her scent as your fingers sneak down to trace your cunt, half surprised you are wet already, but when you think about the state of mind you have been in all day, the mild surprise fades quite quickly. You want Fennec back beside you, you want it to be her hand that cups your breast, her thumb that circles your pebbled nipple. Her fingers that glide through your dripping pussy, dipping inside you just to leave you again and focus on your throbbing clit instead. If you close your eyes and focus on the smell, it is almost enough to make yourself believe it.

Your legs fall open and you impatiently shove a pillow underneath your hips, already breathing hard from your own teasing. Your body needs this, you need this. It should feel pathetic, but all you can think about is how good Fennec always makes you feel, how much you long for her hands and her mouth- for her voice and her smile. Your hips start to move, you are squirming, eyes pressed firmly shut as the movement of your hand grows frantic between your legs.

“Please.” The whimper escapes you without you meaning to let it slip. It’s nothing more than a quiet, breathy sigh, just one word. You feel the warmth in your cheeks, though – you sound so needy, so desperate. Your feet dig into the mattress, and your one hand clutches at Fennec’s shirt while your other alternates between fucking yourself with your fingers and circling your clit. You can never get the angle quite right when you try to do that thing that Fennec always does – to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

You are so wet you are already making a mess on the sheets and you have not even come yet, but that somehow just adds to the filthy feeling of it all. Words keep tumbling from your lips and you don’t have it in you to stop.

“Please, Fennec- please, I’ll be so good for you, please just let me come. I need to come, n-need it, need you- please, baby, you feel so good, I love it when you fuck me like this… you’re too good, you’re too fucking good to me, I love you so much- love how you make my legs shake every fucking time. Please, Fen, please-“

You keep your eyes firmly shut and bury your face inside her scrunched up shirt, doing your best the keep up the illusion as you feel the muscles in your belly tighten in anticipation. You are close, so close, and you force yourself to breathe. It’s Fennec, it’s all her, all around you, her smell, her fingers, you just have to imagine hard enough-

Your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, your legs shaking, and it’s nearly enough, you just need a little more… A memory pops up in your head, Fennec holding out a small plug on the palm of her hand – Would you like to try this one for me, sweet girl? – and that is it. The orgasm is sweet, much needed relief, but not even close to how good you know it could feel if only Fen was here to help you. Still, you try to draw it out as much as you can, slipping two fingers inside your pussy to feel yourself flutter. The memory lingers, Fennec and the look in her eyes when she presented you with that plug, that hungry spark that made her irises darken with desire. And then she had to leave before you ever got to try.

Shaking your head, you try to clear your mind – if you keep thinking about this, you will rile your body up instead of slowly coming down from your high, and you don’t have it in you to take care of that again, not tonight, not by yourself. Your hand stays where it is, though, two fingers plunged deep inside your weakly fluttering cunt. You can not bring yourself to remove them just yet, you know the loneliness will start to seep in if you do.

You grant yourself a few more breaths before you will go and clean up. Slowly unclenching your hand from Fennec’s shirt, you still leave it pulled up over your face. You don’t want the air to stop smelling like her. You pull the pillow out from underneath you with one hand, cursing the thing when you nearly topple over the edge of the bed. A quiet, familiar chuckle makes you rip the shirt off your face.

Fennec leans in the doorway, a lit cigarra dangling from her lips. You are frozen, one hand hanging uselessly in the air while your other still cups your pussy, two fingers plunged deep inside you as you feel your cum and arousal drip onto the sheets.

“Ah, sweet girl, I would ask what you have been up to, but it seems my question has just been rendered unnecessary, hm?” You can hear the amusement in her voice and try to hide your burning face in Fennec’s shirt. With two quick steps, she is by your side, gently placing her hand over yours and pulling the shirt away from your face. You blink up at her, still trying to compute that she is really back. Fennec grins.

“Now now, don’t get shy on me, my darling. Bit late for that.”

You want to answer, something witty – or anything at all – but words seem to have fled your mind.

“You’re back,” you finally say weakly. Fennec laughs – the room lights up with her joy until you have to smile, too. She’s back.

“Yes, baby girl, I’m back. Back to find you touching what’s mine.” Her lingering smile eases the words; you can feel she is not really mad.

“’m sorry,” you mumble and finally pull your hand back from your leaking pussy, trying to tug at the hem of her shirt. Fennec’s hand catches yours.

“The shirt was not what I was talking about.”

Her eyes grow dark when she lets her gaze trail over your form, and before you can process her answer, she sits down and pulls you into her lap. The cigarra still dangles from her lips, and you already know exactly what she is going to taste like before she kisses you. You have never loved a taste so bitter more. Fen takes a deep drag, her fingers caressing your cheek before she takes the stub from her mouth and flicks it into the ashtray behind her without looking. You grin – such a showoff.

You inhale deeply when Fennec kisses you, slowly exhaling the smoke into your mouth, the familiar taste of the mix of herbs and spice she smokes enveloping your senses like a warm blanket.

“I love it when you do that,” you whisper when the smoke fades from your breath. It feels so comfortable, so familiar – you resting against her, her smoke filling your lungs.

“I know you do, baby.”

“I missed you.” Your hips start slowly rocking against her. Her trousers are going to be stained, you know that, but Fennec is not stopping you, so you let yourself enjoy the gentle stimulation of the leather against your still pulsing clit.

“I missed you too, baby.” Fennec buries her face in your shoulder and breathes in deeply. “You have no idea how much I missed you… my perfect girl.”

“Oh.” Small whimpers escape you when Fen mouths her way up your neck, stopping at the most sensitive areas to suck little marks into your skin, leaving a trail of blooming lovebites in her wake. When her mouth meets yours again, you are desperate, pressing yourself up against her because you need this, you need her-

“Someone’s a little needy today, hm?” You can hear the smirk in her voice, feel how her lips smile against yours.

“Yes,” you breathe, “Yes, I am, already told you I fucking missed you- missed you so much, Fen.”

“What do you need, baby girl?” Fennec’s eyes are dark when you open yours to look at her. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you,” you whisper, but she shakes her head.

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific, my darling.” She pulls back, tilting your chin up with two fingers before she kisses down the column of your throat again. New slick floods your pussy at the gentle movement of her lips against your neck, at the light suction that you know is going to leave bruises you will get to admire in the morning.

“Come on, sweet girl,” Fennec mumbles. “Tell me… what were you thinking about when you came earlier, hm? What did your pretty little head conjure up to make you come so hard?”

Oh fuck.

“I, uhh…” you trail off, but Fennec stops her little caresses to fixate you with serious eyes until you continue speaking. “I thought about that… about that plug? That you showed me? Before you left?”

It sounds like a question out of your mouth, your pitch going high with insecurity, but when you see the way Fen’s eyes light up at your answer, you are glad you did not try to keep it from her. You know she would have accepted if you said you did not want to talk about it, but this… this will be so much more fun.

“Aww, baby,” Fennec hums. “Did you think about being all filled up? Showing me how well your perfect ass takes that plug for me, letting me stretch you open so you can ride my strap later like a good girl?”

Her words go straight to your core and the noise that escapes you is just plain embarrassing. Fennec chuckles, her hands squeezing your ass.

“You wanna try that tonight, sweet thing?” Her voice drips with promise, and it is tempting, so tempting, but you can barely keep it together as it is, and you want to just enjoy having her back for now.

“Are you going to have to leave again soon?” You sound small and anxious and you hate it. Fennec hugs you tighter until your breaths become a little calmer.

“No, baby girl. I’m so sorry I left you all alone, I’m so sorry. This was… I told them it was unacceptable to call me away.” Her eyes are still angry when she pulls away, but then her gaze softens as she looks at you, and a mischievous grin spreads over her face. “At least they paid me double, which means we can afford to stay out here another week. I’ll make it up to you that I was gone, I promise.”

“Oh, Fen,” you mutter, melting against her. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re my best girl, so you deserve only the best, my darling.”

You kiss her then, wild and sloppy and full of passion, and Fennec returns the kiss with equal fervour. You lose yourself in her for a while, in the feeling of her laboured breath, of her hands running up and down your sides, your tits pressing against hers, and her tongue inside your mouth. When you finally break apart, Fennec looks at you with a serious expression.

“So… do you?”

“Do I what?” You are breathless, your lips swollen and your heart beating so fast as if it wanted to break through your breast.

“Do you want to try the plug tonight, baby girl?”

Oh. Oh. When you don’t answer immediately, Fennec takes your hand in hers, her thumb tracing small patterns over the soft back of your hand.

“You don’t need to do it tonight. There is no pressure, my darling, you know that. Whatever you want to do is fine by me.”

“Then…” you lick your lips nervously. “Then maybe… maybe I’d rather wait? Just a few more days, but now that you’re back I just want you, nothing else-“

“Oh, sweet girl,” she sighs, smiling at you. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear that. You are mine, my darling, never forget that.”

“Hmm, you know I never will.”

It’s quiet for a while again, your bodies slotting together as you undress Fennec, following the path of your hands with your mouth, kissing and licking down each arm and the valley between her breasts as they are revealed to you, pressing soft kisses to the insides of her palms. She has the hands of an artist, you often think, calloused and stained, and yet somehow still soft and slender and elegant. Fennec wriggles out of her trousers, tugging her underwear down right along with them before she pulls you on top of her again. You moan – her bare skin feels so damn good against yours. When your hand slips down to dip between her legs, she doesn’t stop you, she just loops her arm around your neck to hold you tight.

“Oh baby,” you sigh. “You’re so wet.”

“All for you,” she mumbles. “My sweet, desperate little girl, waiting for me, getting herself off with my shirt over her head, moaning my name as she comes even though I’m not the one fucking her. You’re so good for me, so fucking perfect.”

Her words make you blush and squirm, but they also remind you of something you wanted to ask. You already came tonight, and… it is her vacation too. Especially after having to take a job in the middle of it, you think she deserve to be spoiled.

“Will you let me take care of you tonight, Fen?” you ask quietly. “Lay back for me and let me taste you? I missed you so much.”

“It’s my job to take care of you, baby girl. My job to make you feel good.”

“You’d make me feel good by letting me take care of you,” you mumble, and she stares at you for a while, lost in thought. Finally, she shrugs.

“Alright.”

She lets herself fall back and bends her knees, smirking up at you when you blush at the sight of her. Catching yourself, you easily slide between her thighs, breath fanning over her pussy. Seeing how wet she is is a rare gift for you and you savour it, taking in each detail before you finally dive forward to bury your face between her legs.

Fennec has never been particularly loud, but her quiet whispers of encouragement always hit just right. You have learned to read the twitch of her legs, how she will dig her heels into your back right before she comes, how she tugs on your hair when she wants more but does not want to ask for it. Today, she can’t seem to stop herself talking though, a neverending cascade of filth and praise pouring from her lips until you feel like you could come from that alone, your cunt empty but your face drenched in Fennec’s arousal.

“Just like that, sweet girl- just like that, there you go, you’re so good at that, look how well I taught you… you know exactly what I like, don’t you, baby girl- yeah you do, f-fuck, fuck right there… Hmm, so good for me, my perfect girl burying her tongue inside me after she made herself come for me, I’ll reward you for that later, fucking loved hearing you scream my name… My sweet- fuck, that’s… that’s good s-sweetheart, that’s really good, keep that up… Hm, can fucking feel you grinding against this kriffing mattress, maybe I do need to plug you up next time, give you something to fill you while you eat me out. Maybe we should get two, one for that p-pretty pussy and one for that perfect ass of yours, g- oh, Stars, you liked that, didn’t you? Yeah, me too, pretty girl, you would l-look so pretty like that, all stretched out for me, and once you made me come with your talented mouth, I bet you’d be so wet I could decide with hole I wanted to fuck, hm? Use how fucking wet your pretty pussy gets to stretch your ass open for me, oh, I just know you’d look so beautiful stuffed to the brim by me.”

You are slowly losing your composure, moaning into her, your fingers digging into her trembling thighs as you try not to stop but to keep going, you can’t lose focus-

“Bet you’d look so good with that strap we bought together in your tight little ass,” Fennec groans. Your heart stumbles, suddenly way too excited, and for just a second, you stop lapping at her clit to look up at her. Fennec flashes you a toothy grin and buries her hand in your hair to pull you back down to her cunt again.

“Come on, baby, I’m so close, love watching how desperate you get while eating me out, you need to be filled so bad, by my tongue or my fingers, don’t you, sweet girl? Yeah you do, you fucking love it when I talk like this, my filthy princess- face buried in my cunt while your rutting against a pillow like the desperate little slut you are for me. Hmm, you’re doing so well, baby girl, you make me f-feel so fucking good- yeah, just like this- just there, there you go, so good for me, so fucking good, you’re exactly what I need, baby…”

You swear you can feel your heart pulsing in your pussy, feel that pressure in your belly swell, just from Fennec’s words. Coupled with the heavenly taste of her, it is nearly enough to make you come again, completely untouched, just from the images she puts inside your head. You feel Fennec’s thighs tremble – that, and the fact that she has stopped talking except for the occasional breathy curse let you know she is close. So you keep it up, even though your jaw aches and you can barely focus, but this is about her pleasure and hers alone. Fen’s fingers grip you tighter. She grits out a warning, her voice rough and hoarse but full of affection. You quietly nod and continue lapping at her when she comes, her heels digging into your back as she moans your name. It is an intoxicating feeling and not one you often get to have – Fennec is not usually the type to lean back and let you do all the work.

You sit back on your heels, highly satisfied with your accomplishment, but strong hands pull you back down, though this time, to kiss you. You try to wipe your chin but Fennec shakes your head and just slots her mouth against yours.

“Thank you, baby girl,” Fennec whispers when she pulls back. “I needed that. You did so well for me.”

“Oh…thank you, Fen. I… I really liked this. Liked what you were talking about, too,” you admit quietly, your face burning. Fennec chuckles, her cheeks still rosy and her face glowing with the lingering high of her orgasm. She kisses you again, quick and soft, her fingers stroking your cheek gently.

“Hm-hm, I liked what I was talking about, too. I’d love to see you like that, princess… thank the Stars we have a whole more week to try all that out.”

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This one goes out to my fellow soft wlw hoes [affectionate]. I yearn - as always.

@aeryntheofficial @milfplo-koon @rescuethewretched @deewithani @thefact0rygirl @clonecyare @baba-fett @rowansparrow @tenderclio @twistedstitcher27 @spaceydragons @maygalodon @samanthacookieone @echoskama @equalityforcats @ashotofspotchka @troubleonryloth @levi-llama @bobaafetts @fantastic-commander-fox @thesithformerlyknownaskenobi @lackofhonor @a-c-lee @imalovernotahater @ladykatakuri @solidago-sempervirens @meabravo @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @corrabell @bucketbunny @sharpbarnacle @amcheeken @snarwor @basilbumble @fivesarctrooper @cyarbika @moonstrider9904 @damerondala @katethecraziest @everythingyouwanted @holding-on-to-starwars @ficsbynight @felinaone @stardust-galaxies @persephonehemingway @mando-amando

[thunderfox85]

The Thunder Breaking In Your Heart

Raiden x F!Reader

Warnings: smut, jealousy, mentions of violence, rough sex, NSFW

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Raiden stands in the entryway to the chapel, fumbling with a small cluster of buttercup flowers that made up the boutonnière. No matter how hard he tries, he can't get it to stay in place.

You watch from the doorway of the room where Sonya is putting her finishing touches on as she prepares to walk down the aisle. As you watch Raiden struggle with the flowers, you briefly wonder what it would be like to have him look at you the way Cage looked at Sonya, but dismissed it just as quickly as it appeared in your thoughts. Raiden was beyond such mortal feelings. Deciding he had struggled enough, you moved out into the hallway and towards the chapel doors.

" Here,let me help you," you says you reach him. You look up and pause, waiting for him to give permission. You know he doesn't care to be touched if not necessary. He looks down at you, even with the 3" pumps, you're barely eye level with the massive expanse that is his chest.

" Assistance would be greatly appreciated," Raiden says calmly, neither his voice nor his face give away any of the thoughts swirling in his head. Almost imperceptibly, he held his breath as you took the boutonniere from his hand, your fingers brushing his as you do so. You try to hide the hitch in your breath at the contact, you vowed no one would never know of your attraction to the Thunder God, including Raiden himself. If he noticed, he gave nothing away as you affix the flowers to the breast of his pale, silvery blue tabard.

"There," you say as you smooth out the fabric around it.

"All set." You look up, flashing him a brilliant smile, the light dancing in your eyes, blushing ever so slightly. Realizing your hands were still on him, you quickly withdrew them.

"I'm sorry! Forgive me, Lord Raiden, " you manage to mumble out. His silence causing you to further kick yourself mentally for overstepping the carefully set boundaries.

"I appreciate your help, " Raiden finally answers. Standing rigidly, his face showing no emotion.

"I should see if Sonya is ready, it's nearly time. " you retreat back to the bridal room to finish any last minute details.

Raiden's composure nearly broke. His thoughts racing as he struggled top calm the pounding of his heart and maintain his even breath. The moment you had stepped from the room across the hall, you had captivated him. It caught him off guard at how breathtakingly beautiful you looked in the pale, silvery blue dress,with its buttercup yellow sash carefully wrapped at your waist accentuating the curves found beneath. The color complimenting your skin. The Thunder God had never seen you in makeup before. Your eyes shown bright, enhanced by the smoky shadow and winged liner. Here could have stared into their depths forever. Your lips were the softest of pink and he found himself wondering how they would feel against his own. Before he had realized it, you were before him, offering help with the pin. The way you had paused waiting for permission briefly had him wondering if you would be this submissive beneath him. He immediately had to rein in his wayward thoughts. He had answered curtly and held his breath at your touch, so as not to alert you to the impurity of his imaginings. He thought for sure you would feel the thunderous beat of his heart as you smoothed the fabric surrounding this ridiculous accessory. Then you smiled.

By the Elder Gods, it was as if you held the light and warmth of the sun! He couldn't move, couldn't speak. He barely managed to voice his thanks before you retreated to the bridal room again. He stood there lost in thought, not noticing Johnny Cage's approach.

"Earth to Rai-dude! Everything on okay? You're not having more visions are you? " Cage asked with a concerned look. Raiden shakes his head to dispel the intruding thoughts.

"No, Johnny Cage. There are no visions this day, " he says avoiding Cage's gaze.

"Well, whatever, or " Cage says with a wink, "whoever has you so distracted, I hope it works out for you, Sparky." Cage laughs at Raiden's disdainful look.

"I assure you, " Raiden begins sternly, "I am above such temptations. The situation is of low concern. "

"Whatever you say my dude, " Cage smirks. "I see how you look at her when you think no one's watching."

"With her propensity for getting into dangerous predicaments, I am merely watching out for her safety. " Raiden responds exasperatedly. Johnny Cage was irritatingly observant sometimes.

"Sure....." Cage says skeptically while checking his watch. "Alright, Rai-man! It's showtime! " he says excitedly, throwing jazz hands. Liu Kang and Jax had joined them and the four of them made their way into the chapel to take their places.

A hush fell over the guests, as Kung Lao and another Shaolin Monk opened the double doors of the temple wide. Vera Briggs, Kitana, and yourself walk down the gilded aisle. You look up at the altar and immediately lock eyes with Raiden. He is absolutely stunning, towering over the other three men easily. Feeling the heat rising to your cheeks, you tear your gaze away from him as you take your place on the dais. You miss Raiden's expression change from stoic to wide eyed and slack jawed as you moved into position. Fujin catches your eye from the throng of guests seated before you, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

He must really like weddings, you thought. You didn't see Jax reach over and lift Raiden's chin, effectively closing his mouth. Cage notices and whispers, "Hey man, that situation had moved up your priority list? " he jabs chuckling. Raiden had no time to bite out a retort as the music starts. Two flower girls walk down the aisle gently flinging white petals about. Sonya makes her entrance.

The ceremony becomes a blur. Every time you let your eyes roam, they always find Raiden watching you. The blue- white orbs taking on an intensity you have never seen before. It causes you to feel entirely too warm and butterflies to work up from the pit of your stomach and into your chest, where they remain for the duration of the ceremony. You barely register the officiant announcing "You may kiss the bride!" exuberantly . You look past the happy couple, tho find Raiden still has not taken his eyes off you. Blushing profusely, you try to look anywhere but him. You catch Kitana's eye and she gives you a knowing smirk. You look away quickly only to find the Wind God watching you with a mischievous glint in his expression.

Oh no! You thought knowing that look. Fujin was planning on irritating his older brother. You nearly miss your cue to follow the newly weds off the dais. You move as if on autopilot, following the other bridesmaids as they each paired up with their partners.

What is Fujin planning this time? you thought mildly panicked. He had pushed Raiden to near violence with his pranks and teasing in the past, especially where you were concerned. Raiden didn't tolerate jokes played on him at your expense. He defended your honor as fiercely as he did Earthrealm. You feel a sudden touch at your elbow, startling you out of your worried ponderings. You hadn't noticed Raiden had fallen in step beside you, and even though it had been rehearsed nearly to death, you still flinched at the sudden contact. Raiden gently took your elbow, coaxing your arm to intertwine with his, just as it had been practiced. You breath shallowed as your pulse quickened. You weren't sure if the shiver that ran up your spine was from his electric touch or from your own excitement. He looked down at quizzically.

"Are you cold?" He asked in a barely audible whisper.

"A little," you whispered your lie. The truth was you felt entirely too warm, your heart pounding in your ears threatening to drown out all other noise. You were sure he could hear it too. Raiden seemed to accept your answer and disentangled his arm from yours only to drape it across your bare shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. Your sharp inhale gaining another glance from his intense blue-white eyes but he says nothing. Instead, he grazes his thumb over the exposed flesh of your shoulder. Intense, heated desire flushed your skin and made its way deep into your core. You shuddered again and his response was to pull you closer still. You were practically glued to his side. Once outside, the bridal party began to disperse. Separating into groups, and piling into vehicles that would take them to the reception venue, a mountainside resort with cabins for those few invited and a large dining/event hall over looking the valley below. Raiden didn't immediately let go as you made your way to vehicles. Instead, he let his hand skim from your shoulder, down your side, and finally came to rest at your waist where it lingered but a moment before his touch left you. As you climbed into your vehicle, he watched you with the same unwavering intensity he had at the altar. Fujin appeared behind him and said something that must have caught the Thunder God off guard. Judging by the frown on Raiden's face it couldn't have been anything good. The last sight of the two as you pulled away, was Fujin laughing at a scowling Raiden.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The trip to the reception party was only an hour's drive, but it was long enough for your thoughts to comb over every detail of your interactions with the Protector of Earthrealm. Most notably how his hand had felt caressing you. The way it felt like he was undressing you with his eyes. Again you imagined what it would feel like beneath him. Those hands travelling to forbidden places. You blushed at the realization of just how illicit your daydream had become. Pulling into the parking area, you took a moment to collect your composure before exiting and collecting your bags from the trunk. The next three days were going be a much needed vacation. Johnny and Sonya had planned this mini retreat as a thank you to their closest friends for not only defending Earthrealm, but also putting up with Johnny during the planning stages. You smile remembering how much of a diva he is. More than once you and Sonya had to remind him that this wasn't some major blockbuster he was putting out but an intimate gathering for them and their friends. You make your way to your cabin to put away your bags and change into a more comfortable dress for the reception. The cabin was pretty spacious, with its open floor plan, the living area and kitchen were divided by a breakfast bar. The bedroom was mostly occupied by a king sized bed and a chest of drawers along the opposite wall. The bathroom was ensuite and was decorated just as rustic as the rest of the place. Save for very modern looking shower with multiple heads. You placed your bags down and fished out the dress, you hoped it wasn't terribly wrinkled. Placing the yellow dress on a hanger and hanging it on the bathroom door, you begin to undress. The zipper decided now would be a good time to snag and get stuck. You suddenly hear a rustling behind you and spin around, dropping into a fighting stance, only to find Raiden frozen in place at the bedroom door,his massive body filling the doorframe. Your mouth goes dry and suddenly you can't string together and sentence.

"I...I'm s-sorry. There must be...a mistake. I thought. ..I mean.." Raiden stammered and for the first time ever, you see him flustered. Yet he still couldn't take his eyes off you. He had come to speak with Liu Kang, but had found himself in the wrong cabin. He took in every detail, barely contained desire coursing through his every cell. He had indulged himself a little earlier, thinking those small touches would suffice and then he could put distance between the two of you. But they had only fueled his need for more. He was on the edge of a dangerous precipice and all it would take is one nudge to send him over. Out of the blue you find your voice, but you have no control over the words. No filter to stop you from uttering your desire.

"If you're going to stare, you could at least help me with the zipper," you purr, giving a small smile before turning away.

What are you doing, fool!! He's not interested in you like that! He's a God ! You scream at yourself subconsciously. There it was, the final push. He moved with lightningl speed to clear the space between you.

"Then I shall assist you," Raiden whispers in your ear as he places one hand on the zipper and the other at your hip. When did he cross the room? You thought hazily

Your breath hitches and desire runs through your veins like fire, pooling low in your belly. The heat of his breath at your ear sending a shiver of excitement through you even as his knuckles set fire to your spine as he slowly, and effortlessly, unzips your dress. With the task now complete, he removes his hands from you, an involuntary groan of protest escapes you before you even have time to reign in your wonton thoughts.

"It appears as though you may need further help discarding this garment, " he says silkily as he comes around you, his gait reminding you of a big cat stalking its prey. It is your turn to stand unmoving, staring hungrily at the God before you. He steps closer, his hands skimming up from your hips, past your sides, brushing along the outer most part of your breasts, and finally coming to rest on your shoulders. His blue-white eyes taking in the swell of your bosom, watching the the rise and fall of your shallowed breaths. A smile hints at the corner of his firm lips. He has you, his prey. And the gleam in his eye says he plans to devour your every quiver and moan. You stand there hypnotized by the grace with which he moves and the predatory look on his face as he glides his hands off your shoulders and down your arms, the dress falling and pooling at your feet, leaving you in your lacy bra and matching thong. He looms over you, offering an appraising look. Finally, you find your voice.

"We're going to be late," you barely whisper. "They'll probably notice if you're not attending the afterparty. " Your pulse is pounding in your ears, neatly drowning out all other sound. Your mind a riotous swirl of emotions and desire. You want him to fuck you, dominate you, own you.

"We have time yet, mortal, " he says haughtily. He leans in, one arm snaking around you to hold you in place and his other hand tips your chin, his lips capturing yours. All the air leaves you, the floor pitches and you are dizzy in his arms. Intense want illicits a moan against his lips. At this, he darts his tongue into your mouth, coaxing yours to dance. You capture his lower lip with your teeth, this time it's his turn to hum out a low rumble of desire. Suddenly he scoops you up, not breaking the kiss, and deposits you on the bed. His seven foot tall frame engulfs you, and you take this opportunity to run your hands down his chest and along his sides, feeling the rippling muscle beneath his clothes.

"You have far too many clothes on, Lord Raiden," you break contact to pant out.

"Have patience, sparrow," he growls as he begins to trace a path along your sensitive flesh with his lips, starting from your neck and gliding down to your breasts. He takes care to shower each equally with softly planted kisses and playful nips, bringing each bud to a peak and sensitizing the tender flesh until you shudder with need.

He makes his was lower still, his fingers tracing a winding path his mouth hungrily follows. You squirm and quiver beneath his expert touch .

"Be still, or I shall have to start again from the beginning," Raiden threatens, giving the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh a tight squeeze. You immediately try to bring your rebellious body under control but failing miserably once his mouth begins it's lazy descent. Before he makes it past your navel, there is a loud knock on the front door and you bolt upright in shock. Raiden quickly stands pressing a finger to his lips, indicating you should be quiet. Another knock is quickly followed by Fujin's voice.

"Brother? " Fujin calls out from porch. Raiden has left you in the bedroom, making sure to close the door silently, and made his way to the front door to confront his brother. You quickly scramble off the bed and shimmy into the yellow dress. You can hear the muffled sounds of conversation as you fix your hair so as not to looked quite so mussed. Snatching your makeup bag from your duffel of toiletries, you dart into the bathroom to fix your lipstick. Once put together, you made your way out into the front room.

"And what brings you to her cabin, instead of our own?" You can hear Fujin ask, knowing he's fishing for information.

" I simply came to escort her to the reception. " Raiden replies rather curtly. " She was not quite ready, so I waited here," he explained, gesturing to the breakfast bar. "What brings you here, brother?" You could hear the accusatory tone in Raiden's voice. The Wind God smiled brightly as he caught sight of you. You briefly met his gaze before blushing brightly and looking elsewhere.

"I also came to escort this beautiful little sparrow to the reception," Fujin responded,using the pet name Raiden called you but a few moments ago, the mirth dancing in his glowing eyes. The muscle in Raiden's jaw twitches with irritation. "But I see I am too late. Save a dance for me, will you? " he grins at you, all but laughing.

"Of course," you agree. You catch sight of Raiden's face, his lips hardened to a thin line. He is not happy hearing you agree to Fujin's request so readily. " But the first one belongs to Raiden, " you quickly amend so as to smooth any ruffled feathers.

"But of course," Fujin agreed with a wink. "It's always good to save the best for last, " he laughed as he turned away, making his way to the reception hall.

"We had better make our way as well, or we shall be late, " Raiden said evenly. His face once more unreadable as he too starts to leave. You fall into step beside him, wondering if he was somehow angry with you.

"I am not angry with you, my pet," he said barely above a whisper as if reading your mind. He said no more the rest of the short walk. Once inside, the two of you made your way to the bridal party table. You noticed it had been rearranged so that each maid and groomsman was paired. Frowning a little, you looked over at Sonya questioningly.

"It was last minute," she started matter of factly. "I didn't want to be caught between lovers' stares," she finished rolling her eyes.

"Oh, " was all you could manage as you took your seat awkwardly next to a very tense diety. You stole a quick glance at him and noted he seemed lost in thought, frustration radiated off of him, making you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. You could still feel the heat of his mouth and hands on you, and your own unmet desire boiled just below the surface barely masked.

I'd like to kick Fujin's ass for interrupting, you thought sourly. You caught a movement out of the corner of your eye and turned to see Kitana and Liu Kang seating themselves next to you, murmuring to one another. Liu looked over at his mentor and then whispered something to Kitana who shook her head. She caught you looking at her and smiled brightly, leaning towards you.

"Perhaps the two of you should go somewhere private and talk before whatever is between you boils over," Kitana whispers.

"It is fine, " you whisper back trying to reassure her and yourself. Her smile falters and as concern flits through her eyes. She leans back nodding and returns to her whispered conversation with Liu. He glances at you and offers a tight smile which you return. Raiden shifts in his seat, drawing your attention. You find him watching you, his face impassive. He shifts his weight in his chair again, this time his thigh brushes against yours as he does so, a smile ghosting at the corners of his mouth as he watches your pupils dilate. You can feel the hum of his touch like static electricity racing along your skin right to your core. You reach for your glass as take a gulp of your moscato. Raiden turns his gaze to Cage at being asked a question.

"Yo, Thunder Bro! Remember that time we were tracking Black Dragon in the Outworld mountains? " Johnny asked excitedly

"I remember all things, Johnny Cage. " Raiden replied evenly folding his hands in his lap.

Jax chuckled, knowing where Johnny was going with this. " Well, I was wondering if you could teach me how to get one of those big cats, " Johnny grinned. From somewhere by the desert bar Kung Lao's voice echoed, "There's NO way that was a CAT !!!"

"So anyway," Johnny said ignoring Kung Lao's outburst as Sonya and Jax snickered at the memory of that interesting mission, "is just the pspsps or is there some secret to it?"

"There is no secret, Johnny Cage," Raiden began, shifting slightly and placing his hand atop your thigh under cover of the tablecloth, giving a firm squeeze and causing searing heat to coil uncomfortably in your sex. "Cats simply gravitate to me. Perhaps we are something of kindred spirits." He smiled wryly at Cage.

"On the next trip to Outworld, I'm getting me a thunder cat!" Johnny quipped and Sonya sputtered her wine.

"Oh no," she said sternly "pump the breaks there hot rod, we are NOT bringing home some Outworld beast"

" Aw, c'mon doll, " Johnny whined. "Think about it, you could train your very own battlecat! "

"No!" Sonya rolled eyes and lovingly smacked Cage on the arm. While they were all discussing whether or not Johnny could actually train an Outworld felid, Raiden brushed his thumb over your thigh. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, earning you another, firmer, squeeze from his massive hand warning you to be still. All through the meal, which seemed to drag on forever, Raiden teased you, discreetly sliding his hand further up your leg and shifting it to rest on the innermost side. Unconsciously you press your legs together to stop his ascent. Suddenly his hand left your thigh, leaving you wanting more. He stood, looking down at you expectantly, offering his hand to you. You realize everyone is making their way to the dance floor in the middle of the event hall to watch the first dance.

"I do believe you promised me a dance. " Raiden's tone was commanding. Glancing up coyly through your lashes, you run your tongue over your bottom lip before smiling shyly.

"Of course, Lord Raiden," you begin silkily, "I am all yours." You take his proffered hand. His grip is vice-like on you as he pulls you to him. His eyes taking on more blue than white in a way like pupils dilating. He leaned close to whisper in your ear, "Not yet, but you will be," his breath sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. Realization dawned on him as he recognized it from your earlier encounter. He now knew you had lied and he was going to punish you for it. He led you to the dancefloor just as the newlyweds finished up their dance. Fujin pounced as soon as you were within range. Sweeping you away as soon as the music began with an impish grin and a wink at his brother. Raiden could only watch with murderous intent as he would not cause a scene here, and Fujin knew it well.

"Fujin! What are you doing?!" You whispered angrily. For the second time this evening, the capricious Wind God had denied you what you truly wanted.

"I am merely dancing with a beautiful woman, " he replied feigning ignorance.

"You know what I mean. I promised Raiden the first dance. Now you've made me break that promise," you stated sourly. You caught sight of the Thunder God prowling around the edge with all the gracefulness of a powerful predator. The only hint of his displeasure was the hard glint to eyes as he watched Fujin dance with you.

"Ah, I'm just having a bit of fun. He's never been the jealous type, it's quite humorous to see him beside himself ," Fujin laughed, his raspy voice like the wind through the trees.

"I really wish you wouldn't antagonize him so much," concern for Fujin's safety becoming more apparent.

" I can handle my brother, dear one. " Fujin gave you a brilliant smile. He was attractive, witty, and fun to be around. But nothing about him captivated you like Raiden did. Fujin's laughter and impish delight was infectious and you found yourself laughing too. He suddenly lifted you up above him and spun you around causing you to squeal out a laugh. Then, the mood shifted as he brought you back down, sliding you down his body before setting you down. You could feel him growing hard against your belly. "Fujin, what the f--" you were cut off by a vice grip on your arm as you were dragged back from the Wind God.

"You have taken up enough of her time, brother." Raiden said tightly. There was a threat in the way he spoke to Fujin that the younger brother must have understood. He paled under Raiden's hard gaze.

"Ah, of course. I shall take my leave," Fujin said contritly, bowing to his elder. " Perhaps another time, little dove." With that he stepped lightly away to engage with other guests. Raiden's grip remained tight as he led you out of the reception hall and down the short path to your cabin. He remained silent the entire time. You wanted to say something but the warning in his eyes made you forget how to speak. He flung open the front door and roughly ushered you inside, slamming the door behind him and tossing his hat to the floor.

"Raiden," you breathed out, "what..." you were cut off second time tonight as he hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes slapping your ass hard, earning a yelp of pain mixed with arousal. You had never seen him act in such a manner. It was feral and fucking hot.

"You will learn your place, mortal. I will make this very clear. I do not share," he said whispered threateningly. " I also will not tolerate lies." You were stunned into silence, trying to figure out a time you had ever lied to him. Then you remembered you had told him you were cold. Was he really that mad about it? He strode into the bedroom and dumped you on the bed. He stood there, glaring at you, his frustration barely contained. He began to disrobe, stopping only to motion at your dress. " Take it off," he bit off sharply but you could only stare wide eyed at this feral god before you. "Or do you need assistance removing this one too?"

You only nodded, seemingly forgetting how human speech works. Free of his belt, tabard, cowl, and shirt Raiden was on you in an instant. Gripping the thin material, he ripped it in two down the middle. Once you were free of the dress, Raiden pushed you to the mattress, pinning you with his large frame.

"Now...where to begin?" He growled into the crook of you neck. He inhaled your scent deeply as he traced his lips up the side of your neck to your ear. He nipped at the lobe and you audibly hitched your breath. He took advantage of your parted lips and brought his own down hard on them. He robbed you of breath as the world around you faded away until there was only him.

"Hmmmm," you moaned into his kiss and arched into him wanting to feel more of him. Your hands skimmed along his naked torso and around to his back, feeling the rippling muscles beneath your fingertips. Raiden pulls back from you earning a whimper of protest, grabbing both wrists and pinning them above your head.

"Be still," he commands. Locking your wrists tightly with one large hand, he runs the other down the side of your face. Fire runs through your veins and soaks your already molten center. His fingers trace along your pulse, feeling its heavy beat, his lips soon follow. His hand glides down to your hip, running his thumb along the laced band of your panties. You squirm under him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as his mouth moves from your throat to your collarbone, nipping sharply at irregular intervals. Suddenly he let's go of your wrists and hauls you up into a sitting position and moves in behind you, pulling you to recline between his legs. You can feel his hard length pressed into your lower back and shift purposefully against it, making the Thunder God rumble his desire.

"You would still dare to provoke a god, my dear?" The tenor of his voice dropping and octave.

"Yes," you whisper, "if it means being the reason he comes undone."

With a low rumbling groan that sounded more like a growl, he fisted a handful if your hair and yanked your head to the side, giving him access to the tender flesh of your neck. As his mouth traces a heated path from your jaw to where your pulse can be felt beating heavily, his other hand skims up from your waist to your bra, yanking each cup down exposing the supple mounds. He bites down on your neck at the same time his fingers give a sharp pinch on your nipple, sending liquid heat directly to your quivering center. You brace your hands on his thighs and and arch into his touch, crying out as he assaults the other nipple. He nips his way down to your collarbone, so too does his hand travel farther down, tracing out each curve until he comes to rest at the top of your mons. Your hips buck into his hand, desperate for friction, but his other hand lets go off your hair and he bands his large arm around your waist, pinning you to him.

"Raiden! " you cry out in frustration and dig your nails into thighs.

"Shhh," he soothes, "All in good time." His voice even and sultry, even as you feel him trembling. "Let me hear you," he whispers as his large hand cups your sex, his middle finger tracing its delicate folds.

"Ah! Lord Raiden!" You cry out grinding against his hand. He slips his finger into your molten heat, his own breath hot and ragged against your neck. Your hips buck up to meet his skillful ministrations. His arm tightens its grip around your waist and he rolls his hips at your backside, letting out his own growl of desire. He slips in another finger and sets a methodically slow pace, curling them on the outward stroke to drag across your deepest erogenous spot, a slight vibrating hum building where he touches you.

"Let go, my dear. I want to hear your desire," he says hoarsely as he presses his palm against the sensitized bundle of nerves at your apex, diving his fingers deep into your already soaking cunt. This is your undoing and you convulse around his deft fingers, your head thrown back against his broad chest with a strangled iteration of his name.

" Good girl," he whispers darkly. Moving with a speed and gracefulness that comes from eons of careful practice, Raiden slips out from behind you and strips his pants all in one fluid movement. And before the world can right itself, you are pressed to the mattress, the Thunder God pushing your legs wide and coaxing you to wrap them at his waist. He leans down, one arm supporting his weight and the other snaking under your hips to angle your opening to rest against his rigid length, your heat causing him to pant lightly. "Who do you belong to?" He asks, his bright, pale eyes roaming over your face, taking in every detail, before settling on your mouth, waiting for you to answer

"You, Lord Raiden. My Thunder God, " you whisper, trembling with need. "I belong to only you. "

Raiden draws back his hips so as to drag his aching length across your slick folds until the wide crest of his cock sits just at your entrance, and there he hovers, watching you pant in frustration, a devilish smile on his lips. "You feel frustrated? Good," his voice like dark silk as he leaned in closer, "Now tell me, my caged sparrow, what do you want me to do?"

Your hands coming up to meet his broad chest and running down the length of his torso, you look up at him with heavy lidded eyes, your voice husky with desire "Kaminari ga watashi o tsureteiku" you breathe out, watching as his gaze darkens with intense carnality. Slowly, he pushes into you, never breaking eye contact. He watches as you arch your neck and your eyes roll back as guttural moan escapes your lips, that is his undoing. The final shred of control he had on his own need for satisfaction dissipated as he finally hilted himself deep inside you. He uses his free hand to interlace his fingers with your yours, pinning your hand next to your head, your other hand free to travel over and trace every dip and hollow you could reach. "You truly are mine," he rasps out and begins to move with long, fluid strokes. His hips rolling each time he fully sheathed himself in your core.

"By the Gods, yes!" You gasp, leaning up to nip just below his collarbone, raking your nails down his back. The Thunder God above you moves his arm from under your hips to steady himself as he picks up the pace, rolling his head back to moan loudly. You reach up to cup the side of his face, urging him to look back at you, "I want to see you come undone for me, Raiden. Take me with you. " you say as you feel the pressure build. Raiden tightens his grip on your hand, his brow furrowed with concentration, sweat misting your bodies as his rhythm becomes erratic. All control finally broke as he lost himself to pleasure, deep growls and grunts reverberating off the walls, mingling with your soft whimpers and throaty moans. Your sex quivering around his unrelenting cock had you tightening your legs around his waist drawing him further in. Raiden pressed harder and undulated his hips, hitting your sweet spot again and again until you saw stars streaking across your vision.

"Oh, RAIDEN!!!!" you screamed out as your orgasm ripped through you. Pleasure wracked your body, as your hands scrabbled to hold onto him. He slammed into you one last time before stilling briefly as the first wave of his climax came. Raiden gave four more deep strokes, bottoming out in you as he emptied himself of his seed in you.

"By the Elder Gods ! " he said through clenched teeth. The Thunder God shuddered, finally spent, withdrawing and lying to the side you. No words were spoken, as he drew you into his arms, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. Breathing in his scent as you returned the tenderness by placing a kiss above his heart, you both drift off.

You are the one temptation I would gladly give in to he thought to himself before sleep took over.

Outside the cabin, the winds whipped wildly as thunder rumbled in the distance.

[themculibrary]

Clint And Natasha (Clintasha) Masterlist 3

Links Last Checked: June 5th, 2024

part one, part two, part four

All in the Family (ao3) - AlphaFlyer M, 3k

Summary: Hawkeye meets the Red Guardian. Alexei is not impressed.

And you (ao3) - steveandbucky T, 1k

Summary: “Or, you know,” Clint shrugs. “We could get married for real.”

Caught in a Goodbye (ao3) - st_valentinus T, 12k

Summary: Natasha has a new mission to take care of on her own, which leads Clint to find a way to say goodbye. Of course, this goodbye doesn't last as long as they expected.

Clint Barton's Guide to Friends and Ceiling Vents (ao3) - NoliteTimereEos T, 6k

Summary: In which Clint Barton meets a missing assassin in the vents and somehow becomes friends with him. Things don't go as bad as they could have.

Come and pin me down (ao3) - chezamanda E, 3k

Summary: Natasha Romanoff always gets what she wants.

Denial is a river in Egypt (ao3) - KafkaTamura E, 10k

Summary: When Nat sleeps with him but leaves him hanging, Clint wonders what that means for their relationship. Their conjoined, codependent and inseparable bond. Will that mess everything up?

Denial is a river in Egypt, but when it becomes evident their feelings are requited, what will Clint do?

down in the valley (ao3) - anothercover M, 25k

Summary: Six years after the final battle with Thanos, Natasha wakes up in a cabin in the Pacific Northwest. She wakes up with a wedding ring. She wakes up with Clint also wearing one. She wakes up with their four year old son.

She wakes up without any memory of how she acquired a single one of these things.

[A different take on Endgame. No real spoilers.]

Fake It (ao3) - sgteam14283 G, 9k

Summary: Faking a relationship is part of the job for Strike Team Delta. But sometimes the lines can get blurred.

Friends With (Marrige) Benefits (ao3) - AngelOfBooze N/R, 3k

Summary: Clint and Natasha are mistaken for a romantic couple by the press. They roll with it like square tires.

habeas matrimonium (ao3) - crystallitanie T, 4k

Summary: Five times Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton pretended to be hitched (and one time... well)

if ever two were one (ao3) - shellybelle N/R, 5k

Summary: Five ways the Avengers found out Clint and Natasha were married, and one way Clint and Natasha told them. Featuring domesticity, scrambled documents, Tony and Pepper getting their snoop on, and of course some general badassery.

Nothing Says Romance Like A Quickie In The Stairwell (ao3) - startrekkingaroundasgard E, 3k

Summary: Clint and Natasha are passionate people. Unfortunately, they don’t have much luck when it comes to expressing such desire and more often than not are interrupted before either finishes. These are 3 times when they were interrupted and 1 when they aren't.

Open My Eyes, I See Sky (ao3) - AlwaysLera M, 11k

Summary: After Loki and Thor return to Asgard, Clint disappears in the middle of the night. Against her instincts, Natasha decides not to use her considerable talents, assets, and resources to chase him down. He needs to level out, she tells herself, it'll take time. So why is she the one feeling offbalance?

Take Cover (ao3) - MajorMinor M, 11k

Summary: Prompt: Forced to get legally married for a mission but they hate each other.

The CEO's New Escort (ao3) - Iriel3000 M, 9k

Summary: As the youngest CEO of Stark Industries, Natasha Romanov has no time for personal relationships. Like many other male executives, she uses an escort service to provide the proper dates for high level functions.

Natasha is paired with the sexy and charming Clint Barton and finds herself falling for him. When a secret Clint has been hiding is revealed, Natasha is forced to confront her feelings and decide if keeping up appearances is more important than losing him.

The Kiss of Fire and Powder (ao3) - Starjargon T, 5k

Summary: Nat meets a nice man on a plane as she visits a foreign country. Due to bizarre circumstances, they find themselves closer than either of them could have imagined. If only either one was who they claimed to be.

The Secret Ingredient (ao3) - kiss_me_cassie T, 5k

Summary: "Natasha. We talked about this," Steve said with a long-suffering sigh as he turned his phone around to point out her latest blog entry. "You can't keep disabling the comment thread whenever you don't like what's being said."

"Did you see he wrote?" Natasha asked indignantly, blowing a wayward curl out of her face. Since ArrowGuy had started commenting on the blog a little over six months ago, he'd been a thorn in her side, making all kinds of crazy comments. Some were just run of the mill annoying, but others were truly insane. She shuddered, just thinking about the time he'd mentioned trying to roast a Cornish game hen in the microwave.

Three Times The Team Nearly Blew Their Cover (And One Time They Did That Themselves) (ao3) - andacus T, 3k

Summary: Three (of the many, many) times The Avengers didn't think before acting and caused Clint and Natasha more trouble than they needed. And one time they almost blew their own cover (wink wink, nudge nudge).

[wolves-in-the-world]

quinn, holed up in the arse end of nowhere feeling morose and missing his sometimes-team, knowing it'll be a month at least before it's safe to visit them again, can at least receive phone calls when they're free to talk and exchange texts with them the rest of the time.

he finds a cool rock while clearing stone from the property and sends parker a photo; she sends him a photo of some diamond cufflinks she just swiped at a fancy party. hardison texts him that the rock's a geode and might have something even cooler inside.

he keeps texting him, suggesting ways to get it open until quinn gives up and goes and has a conversation with a rather confused clint - "my nephew's got an interest in science," quinn says, and that helps - and can send hardison a photo of what's inside.

(it's four different cool-rocks-that-are-maybe-geodes, by that point. one of them turns out to have been hiding some pretty cool purple crystals. quinn's just irritated that alec was right.)

he trips over a rock and stubs his toe while exploring his farm and, look, he's dealt with much worse than that and still kept the client's secrets, but he's very glad this time that no-one's around to hear him swear.

he stubs it again trying to get back to the farmhouse when it starts getting dark. he tells himself that absent active proof of a sniper setting up on his property, he isn't going exploring like that again.

the next day his toe's turned some very impressive colours. he texts eliot a photo.

when he's putting on his game face and greeting the townsfolk to get it over with, vincent tells him "momma told me not to talk to strangers" and quinn's thinking good, yes, I don't particularly want to talk to you anyway, kids are difficult, and then the kid follows it up with "but you seem nice" and quinn has to keep his smile fixed in place while dying inside.

harvey and then gus are very much cases of establishing a good relationship with the local doctor and bartender (a good protocol anywhere). they're distressingly normal, but quinn's starting to expect that around here.

evelyn calls him 'dear' on sight. quinn's gonna offer to carry her groceries the second he gets a chance to.

he's very relieved that SOMEONE in this town is showing an appropriate level of wariness, though. that the someone in question wears clothes made of sewn-together leaves... well, at this point, quinn can live with that.

with the rest of them... he's trying not to, he knows eliot makes faces when he talks like this, but basically in his head he's going "child, civilian, civilian, child, the most civilian civilian I've ever seen while ALSO being a child..."

it's not that he's a danger to them. there's no point in this being his hideaway if the townsfolk don't think he's normal and safe. he's just a little twitchy about it. they're soft and squishy and he's worried for them.

like leah. she's not his responsibility so it's a very quiet thing but he's anxious on her behalf that she lives alone in the woods. but it's not like he doesn't understand wanting privacy. he can't help but wonder if she's running from something, though. hell, do people even go and live in a place like that (like his own cabin) if they're not running from something? is she really just here because she likes the place?

he could work his way towards liking it, actually. the valley's beautiful. it's satisfying going to bed tired, in a simple kind of way that jobs often aren't. and he's seen a cat on his morning rounds occasionally - they have an agreement, they leave each other alone.

it's just, despite it all, he's looking forward to the day he can taste eliot's cooking again.

[joanie-writes]

Omitting Sins

Arthur x F!Reader

Last Chapter

Word Count: 1.3k

Chapter 8

I had experienced so many firsts the past week or so. I counted them at first but then I eventually lost track. Most of my time was spent relaxing in the beautiful camping spots I stumbled upon. I read, cooked, napped, even journaled a little. Things that made me feel human again, I had been a drink pouring machine for so long. Sometimes I felt tempted to never return, maybe I had found something worth leaving for, myself. But in reality, I knew that my money would only last so long, and I could not hunt, barely knew how to fish either.

For days, I hadn't seen another person, it was just Brandy and I, which was fine with me. Strangers meant trouble. I found myself thinking back to my drink with Arthur, how he looked at me, how he looked in general. For some reason, again, I wanted to know more about him, know why he seemed so troubled. He wasn't a stranger anymore, but he was still so secretive. It was possible that I was going crazy, alone out in the wild like some kind of hermit.

Growing bored of the spot I was staying at, I packed up and was on my way again. Maybe I'd go and get a few free drinks curtesy of some fool at the saloon in the next town, restock on a few items too, I thought.

I whistled a tune to myself, taking the ride slow to prolong my solitude. The valley was eerily quiet, besides my whistling and Brandy's hooves. That was until the loud crack of a gunshot echoed through the atmosphere. I probably jumped three feet off the saddle. I pulled out my pistol, and for some reason I moved towards the loud sound.

A few more gunshots rang out, and as I grew closer, I heard men shouting back and forth. It was a stagecoach robbery, the few guards were defending the wagon against the single man, and they looked like they were winning. I bit my cheek, still a safe distance away from it all, and unsure what to do now.

I aimed my gun at the outlaw, which suddenly felt ten pounds heavier than before, I lowered the weapon when I seen his blue eyes.

He squinted with confusion, surprise taking over when he realized who I was. I watched the last man standing recognize his opportunity to save the day, he aimed precisely at Arthur while he was distracted with me. Quickly, my hand lifted the gun again, taking out the last guard with a pull of the trigger.

The man dropped dead off his horse, what had I just done? Tears welled in my eyes just as fast as I had pulled my pistol, mumbling curses.

Arthur jumped off his horse, rushing to the cabin of the stagecoach to retrieve his prize. I couldn't rip my gaze away from the pool of blood forming around the man I had shot. Arthur tossed me a bundle of cash, I held it in my shaking hand. "Come on, we have to get outta here now." He explained, his horse dramatically rearing before gunning it down the trail. Both breathless and wordless, I followed him.

Our speed slowed once we had put some ground between us and the crime scene, I hadn't said anything, I didn't even reply when he said, "I really appreciate what you did, you saved me."

I looked up when I heard him hiss in pain a while later, I noticed the dripping crimson colour staining his sleeve. I winced, my tongue untying itself from all the nerves so I could speak, "Let me help."

We found a good spot to rest, I reached back to my saddlebags to get some supplies to clean Arthur's wound, my shaking hands still hadn't calmed. Arthur dismounted, taking a seat on a rock before removing his hat, he gave a look in my direction before unbuttoning his shirt to pull out his injured arm.

I felt a bit faint as I walked over to Arthur, the cross necklace I was wearing felt like it was burning my skin. He noticed my hesitating steps, neither of us had mentioned what I'd done, he didn't know my past. Arthur looked me up and down, and as I began to pour water onto a rag for him, he gently grabbed my wrist.

"Hey, look at me, are you alright Miss?" Arthur asked, his voice calm.

I tugged my wrist away from his hold. "I'm fine."  I lied, biting down on my lip as I resumed cleaning him up where the bullet had grazed him.

"Doesn't seem like it, you just shot a man and haven't even said anything about it."

"Ain't the first time I've killed." I said, my admission quiet and mumbled.

Arthur continued watching me, paying close attention to my damp eyes and my ever-shaking hands. "I assume you won't go to the law about this." He asked, but it was much more of a statement than a question.

"Jesus, Arthur no. I won't." I shook my head, finishing his bandage and tossing down the supplies to storm off to the nearby cliffside. I held my head in my hands for a moment, so overwhelmed with everything that had just happened. I heard the metallic sound of spurs from behind, unaccompanied by piano this go around. I exhaled heavily, still faced away from him.

"Don't know why I decided to help an outlaw, should've let you get filled with lead." I crossed my arms, angry at both Arthur and myself now.

"You could've." He said simply, not moving closer to me, almost like he could feel the heat radiating off of my skin. I swallowed anxiously, the vision of all the blood coming back to me, the blood mixing with the pale dirt, the blood seeping between the floorboards.

I stopped those thoughts, opening my eyes to see the expanse of the land, I took a deep breath. "I've shot a man before, watched them bury him." I spoke just loud enough for Arthur to hear me, he stepped closer, his shirt was done up again, though his suspenders remained at his sides. I gave him a sideways glance. He didn't push me to continue, he patiently waited for me to go on.

"Andrew. He was my boyfriend and uh, he killed my father right in front of me, he went crazy, so I shot him." I sniffled, I tried to keep my tears at bay and carried on, "I found out he was apart of a gang, and even though I did the right thing, and I don't regret it, I can't seem to let it go." A tear escaped, sliding down my face now, Arthur had moved closer, a concerned look on his face.

"I'm not a good person by any means, I'm sure you can see that," Arthur began, he paused to light a cigarette, handing me one as well, "but it takes one to know one, and you aren't a bad person, Y/N."

I turned to look properly at him, he looked sad.

"I've done terrible things, and I still can't shake that, never have, and I don't think I ever will. But you did that because you had to."

Together, we sat on the edge of the cliff, smoking our cigarettes in silence. "You don't seem like the rest of them, bad men I mean," I told Arthur, looking over at him again. "I serve outlaws all the time, could tell you and your lot were wanted men somewhere right away." Arthur chuckled at that, rubbing his arm.

"I don't know you that well but I can tell you do this differently, Arthur, not like Andrew did." I finished, taking in a shuttered breath and wiping my eyes for the hundredth time already, I probably looked ridiculous.

"You don't know me at all then, miss." Arthur stated simply, extinguishing his cigarette on the rocky edge.

"You said that a bad guy knows a bad guy, well a bartender knows a little of everybody."

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

What Fresh Hell?: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst, talk of child pornography, talk of sexual abuse with children

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

Billie’s father is seen parking in the driveway, and even from where you’re at, you can feel how angry he is. He turns this whole blue energy of the house into a light purple. Both red and blue mix to create a whole mess of emotions. He’s not right in the head either, but that’s clearly not going to stop him from marching in here. As soon as he does, him and Billie’s mother just go at it.

“I have been calling you all night!” she yells.

“I'm sorry, Marilyn. I turned my phone off.”

“How could you turn your phone off? What if Billie got sick or—we needed you!”

“I said I was sorry!” he groans.

She slaps his arm and gives an angry scoff. She turns away and leaves the room. Thankfully, William stays put to give her time to cool off.

“What's being done to find my daughter?”

“We're assessing that right now,” you answer.

“She's been missing since yesterday! What the hell have you people been doing since then?!”

“Where have you been, Mr. Copeland?” Gideon wonders.

“Me?”

“Where were you all day and all night?”

“I have a cabin in Brandywine Valley,” he says, but that doesn’t tell you where he’s been this entire time.

“The police tried you there.”

“Well, maybe I was out at the time.”

“Billie tried your cell phone yesterday afternoon. You didn’t answer then,” you comment.

“Well, I shut it off sometimes. I like the solitude.”

“You didn't fight your wife for custody of your daughter, but you like being in her life,” Gideon rattles off the facts.

He wants to make him nervous. It’s working.

“I want her to grow up in her home with her friends around. This is the only place she's ever lived.”

“So, you love her very much.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you waste any precious time we have left?” Gideon sighs and cuts to the chase for this is taking too long. “You weren't at your cabin. You weren't at work or with friends. Police didn't call us until a little while ago because they thought your daughter might have been with you—that you might have taken your daughter. Until you can give us a satisfactory accounting of your whereabouts from the time your daughter went missing until—would you help me understand why a devoted father who talks to his daughter every night suddenly turns his phone off and disappears for almost twenty-four hours?”

“I was… busy,” he hesitates.

“It was 1:30 in the afternoon. You called your wife at 11:30 that morning and found out Billie was missing.”

“So?”

“Well, Brandywine Valley is fifteen minutes away. Where were you, Mr. Copeland?”

William knows he’s been caught, so he chooses the right option to tell the truth. He sighs heavily and sits down with a long and tired look on his face.

“I—I was at Sloane Kettering hospital in New York City. Dr. Baylan Mahal is the head of Oncology. You can call him if you want.”

“I will. Did you have a relapse?”

“It's in my lymph nodes now. There's nothing more they can—” he cuts himself off. “Please find my daughter. Find my daughter.”

“Call Sloane Kettering,” Gideon instructs of you.

“Yes sir,” you say, already taking out your phone.

The bad news is that Sloane Kettering vouched for William, confirming he was with them the entire day with proof through cameras as well as the sign in sheet. If he didn’t take his own daughter, then that means it really is a stranger abduction—most likely. The good news is that Derek, Elle, and Hotch did have something when they returned from the park. You didn’t want to upset the parents even more, so you had a small meeting on their lawn as soon as they arrived.

“What do we know?” Gideon asks as he jogs up to the rest of the group.

“We talked to a kid who had contact with the unsub. He came back to the same street more than once,” Hotch informs.

“Well that tells us he's at ease in the neighborhood—comfortable talking to kids in plain view,” you fit the pieces together.

“He lured Billie with a story about a lost dog.”

“She recently lost one of her own.”

“That indicates previous knowledge of the victim,” Spencer says.

“But it doesn't necessarily mean that she knew him personally. This only means he's aware,” you counteract.

“Actually, it's not uncommon for predators like these to know the kids that live around his area. He’s from this neighborhood.”

“Then we go door to door and ask for voluntary searchers,” Detective Russet speaks up.

���The neighborhood is already crawling with uniforms. They're everywhere. Having more searchers is only going to make the man who did this go into hiding,” you point out.

“So far, you followed the child abduction response plan to the letter,” Gideon trails off.

“For the past few hours, yes,” the detective nods.

“So now we need to move past the guidelines and change tactics. If we don't, Billie isn't gonna make it past the next twenty-four hours. I want you to corral these clowns,” Gideon points to all of the news cameras. “We're gonna need 'em—all of 'em.”

Before you can deal with the press, it’s about time to give the profile. Usually, you’d have more time to put one together, but Billie is very high risk. If you don’t put one out now, she could die sooner rather than later. Every single cop that’s around this area is in one room, listening to your team give the profile. Each and every one of them are listening intently, taking down notes as you go along.

“Billie Copeland has been missing for twenty-two hours. It is vital that we locate her in the first twenty-four,” Gideon starts off.

“The unknown subject, or unsub, in this case is most likely a resident of one of the subdivisions around the park. We have cancelled the amber alert. We need to coordinate with all your officers to pull everyone off the street immediately,” Hotch explains.

“That’s fucking crazy,” a random officer scoffs.

“Just hear us out—”

“But it goes against court procedure. You guys wrote the damn thing.”

“Actually, Carp is just a guideline for immediate response to child abduction. Believe it or not, we're already late in the game, and we do know enough about this unsub to know that if he feels like we're closing in on him at all, he will kill Billie to avoid detection. If anything, we need to lessen the pressure on him,” Spencer spits out.

“This man fits in because nobody knows what he is. Can we really know our neighbors? He walks his dog and does yard work. Solitary activities appeal to him. However, if you watch closely, you'll see he pays a little too much attention to the neighborhood kids. Largely goes unnoticed because he isn't perceived as a threat. He’s a white male in his late twenties to thirties. He has a menial or temporary job and is socially marginalized and frustrated. He relates better to kids than he does to adults. It’s not his first offense to children, but it is his first abduction,” you explain.

“How do you know that?” Detective Russet asks.

“First-timers hunt closer to home. Experienced predators don't.”

“He's had a recent stressor—a job loss or other setback. Unable to maintain a normal relationship, he'll have extensive pornographic materials in his home and on his computer. And while they won't all involve children, some of them definitely will,” Hotch takes over.

“Since he used the missing dog ruse, and we believe him to be a regular fixture of the neighborhood, it's quite possible that he truly does own—or did at one point—own a dog named Candy. We recommend cross-checking veterinary records with residents in the neighborhood,” Spencer says.

“He will not inject himself into this investigation.”

“Don't these guys like to know what the cops know?” the detective says.

“No, not this type of unsub. He's hiding. He doesn't know what anyone saw. He doesn't know if there's any information about him out there. He's unlikely to walk in and ask us, ‘can I help you?’. But I can guarantee you he will be watching the news. So, how we handle them is very important,” Gideon stresses.

“Check your canvass records. One of you may have had contact with him in the early stages.”

“What about registered sex offenders?”

“We've got somebody working on that right now.”

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, everyone clear on that? Good luck. Thank you,” Gideon closes this meeting out.

Derek immediately leaves off to the side to call Penelope to have her work her magic touch on the already growing pile of suspects. You’re scheduled to go back to Mrs. Copeland’s house with Elle just to make sure she and her ex-husband are doing alright. Before you do that, however, you walk over to Spencer who is kind of all by his lonesome.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” you ask.

“Could be better. What about you?”

“Same. This is just going to be another nightmare to add to my list,” you sigh sadly.

“Do you dream of children often?”

“It’s a lot less than what you’d think it’d be. I swear this job never gets easier. When I agreed to take this job when Gideon offered it, I was ecstatic. I thought I’d really make a difference.”

“But you are—”

“No, I’m not,” you cut him off. “All I get are some victims that are saved, and a shit ton of nightmares to follow it. The payoff is actually worse if I think about it. Just as I’m about to collapse from extreme depression, I think of this team. I think of you and Penelope and JJ and Derek. I think of kids like Billie. I think of everything good that comes out of these cases. While there isn’t much, I try to hold onto the good as tightly as I can in hopes some of it will rub off on me, you know?”

“Try going through life with an eidetic memory.”

“Bless your heart, Dr. Spencer Reid. Seriously. You’re doing a great job if it means anything.”

“It does. Thank you,” he smiles shyly but brightly.

“Y/N, come on!” Elle calls for you.

“Duty calls. Save that smile for me when I get back, yeah?” you flirt.

You’re already gone before Spencer can come up with anything clever to say. All he’s getting are flushed cheeks and a fuzzy brain. You actually make him forget what he’s about to do… and that’s saying something.

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[shebeafancyflapjack]

Little Blue Eyes

A brief follow-up to this. Eleanor visits Michael during his reforming.

.

She had to hand it to Jason. If anyone had told her that it was possible to break a Janet out of Hell and get her away from an army of demons using just a Molotov, a single demon exploder gun, and a bag of weed, she’d have been very sceptical. But somehow he managed to bring their not-a-girl home, riding back in that hand-cart, grinning away as if he’d gone to a Jaguars game with her.

That was one problem dealt with. Now only a billion others to sort out.

As overjoyed as she’d been to see Janet back, safe and sound, she hadn’t been looking forward to reliving the most awful night of the year by explaining to her why their tall, dandy dressed demon wasn’t at her side, or hadn’t gone to save her.

It was easier to hand her the note that Michael had wrote (or possibly snapped into being after she slammed the door as she was sure even he couldn’t write that fast) before he’d pulled the trigger on himself.

I’m sorry.

I don’t want you to be worrying about how I might betray you or let you down again. If I’m locked up, you’re just going to worry that I’ve escaped. Just leave me in a tank on the other side of the map, or in Janet’s void if you bring her back, or just leave me in the Bad Place. If anything I just wanna ask that you make sure I’m all in there as I’d rather not come back shorter. Also if you can make sure no dogs are around to lap me up, I’d appreciate it.

I only ever wanted to save you all. I’m sorry I did nothing but screw up. I understand if you don’t want me back in the group after I’m back to normal. Please just get Janet back safe, even if it does mean going to the Judge. And give my best to Chidi when he wakes up.

I wasn’t lying about one thing; I really do love you all so much. I’m sorry it could never be enough.

Michael.

Reading the goo-stained letter with shaking hands, she’d struggled not to burst into tears of anger or throw up. Standing in the middle of the empty room, her friend dripping all around her, she’d wanted to scream at him for this being his best attempt to make things up to her - to forking leave her! To take the cowards way out. 

Being angry was so much easier than accepting the guilt of what she had said to him before that moment. Of questioning if she had gone too far...if she’d just taken a moment to listen to him...Usually the dude had trouble shutting the fork up but that night, all he’d done is stand there and take everything she threw at him...until there was nothing left standing. Literally.

If she’d had any idea he would do something so reckless and stupid then of course she would never have said...

But you did know. You knew exactly what he was prepared to do to help you, if it’s what you said you needed. What you wanted.

She never wanted this, she admits to herself, barely a couple months later.

Running this experiment basically single-handed was...not overly difficult. In fact, she was pretty confident in saying they were doing okay, considering the circumstances. 

But it still sucked. She was alone. Again.

Obviously there was no way she was going to have Michael’s goo abandoned in some random, isolated location. She was mad at the guy but she wasn’t a monster...so she told herself. At the same time, she couldn’t give up the role he’d thrusted upon her by suddenly taking up the role of nurse-maid, as hot as she might have looked in the uniform. He’d chosen to do this so she could work without distractions. Without a liability. 

“He sacrificed himself to save me. We’re on our own now. Let’s make it count.”

Just get the fork on with things, same as before. No point in looking back.

Tahani is the one who volunteers. She’s able to separate herself from the other humans without causing too much suspicion, claiming the need for a private getaway up in the hills, deep in the valley, a hidden fancy lodge by a stream, surrounded by peaceful deer and mountains. Definitely not Eleanor’s scene, anything involving the wilderness or even resembling camping.

By the time Eleanor sees her off on a private car Derek conjured up, Michael’s goo already reached its first form. The blind, helpless demon larva showed no signs of awareness of his surroundings, curling up as small as possible, malleable as Tahani swaddled him in her fluffiest blanket. Eleanor was almost impressed at how quickly the sexy giraffe had overcome being grossed out at the slimy, squidgy creature, able to look almost maternal as she carried him into the car. And she made sure to say as much.

Tahani’s heavy hearted response would stick with Eleanor for the next few weeks; “I didn’t reassure him when he asked us if we could ever be friends with a gross monster. Best I can do is show him how much we truly care.”

Ouch. Way to kick her in the girl-nads.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ve helped out in multiple animal sanctuaries and used to fly out to work with deprived children with my dear friend Angelina...But this is definitely new territory for me.” She’d said as she looked over the larva demon, making the tiniest cooing noise in his sleep (or what they assumed was sleep). “I’ll try my best.”

That was all any of them could do. She’d contemplated attempting to speak to the larva Michael in her arms. What could she possibly say? Could he even understand her?

She was still angry. And yet it was difficult to connect the anger towards the one who abandoned her to the pathetic looking being in the blanket. Best to save all those harsh words on the tip of her tongue for when he was back to being tall and slappable. 

Is he really the one you want to slap?

The question comes back to haunt her more frequently each night that follows, whenever she thinks back on that night, or wonders how the two of them are doing. She and Tahani send letters often via the birds who are happy to act as messengers. They just have to be careful none of the humans intercept them. She lets her gorgeous friend know how the experiment is going and Tahani offers her tips on how to improve John, in particular. Every time she goes to write ‘how is Michael?’ she erases it, chest tightening. Tahani tells her anything important.

The slug monster form that follows the larva is a lot more challenging, she reports. He’s now the size of a Tibetan huskie and just as hungry.

I just let him roam the fields and eat what he can find. Sometimes I have to pull him in on a leash if he doesn’t tire himself out, otherwise I worry he’ll slither off in the night. I try to talk to him but he just grunts or roars at me until I tell him off. I was a little worried he might try to eat me but I found playing music - 80′s classics, mostly - calms him down and makes him rather docile. I don’t think he knows quite who I am or remembers anything. Perhaps it’s like when Janet is rebooted? He may need time to restore his memories, as she did.

Oh, darn, I must finish - he’s in the rose bush again!

Sometimes the image of her prim socialite friend trying to restrain a two-hundred-pound slug monster is so hilarious she can’t help but laugh. Other times she feels more guilt tugging at her soul to go lend a hand.

Is Michael really little more than an animal, in his head, right now? She’s hardly proved herself the best at pet care, though it sounded like Michael overeating was the least of their worries. It pained her to imagine what his head must be going through right now. Is he scared? Confused? Lost? Does he have any emotions other than the instinct to feed?

Does he still blame himself? Does he miss her as much as she...?

The more she sits in that chair in the office, the smaller she feels. It doesn’t belong to her; she’s merely filling it in while he’s gone. She has lunch in silence, remembering the jokes they used to share, the games of trying to aim food in the others mouth across the desk. She remembers him snapping a margarita for her when he knew she needed it most. She remembers his hand on her shoulder. She remembers him finding her at her lowest point, when everyone else had doubted her, turned their backs.

She remembers him, always there. And now she’s lost him.

Was wanting him gone over a stupid lie really worth all of this?

When Jason returns with Janet, on the same day she’s hesitating whether to jump on the nearest unicorn and head towards the mountains, she takes it as a sign. She has no excuse to stay away now - not with Janet back to watch over things, though she’ll probably be paying Michael a visit soon too.

She rides up on the train Janet conjures for her, saving her from trying to figure out how to ride a unicorn without breaking her neck. Something tells her she might have more luck at taming a slug monster than her British friend, not that she has any experience, just a few encounters with the grosser men in Arizona. Besides, it was Michael, at the end of the day. Their Michael.

The same Michael willing to sacrifice himself to help a bunch of cockroaches.

It’s such an idyllic landscape she arrives at. A total holiday card photo, without the snow. Nothing but grass and trees for miles before a backdrop of purple mountains. She looks around, seeing the evidence of devoured flower gardens and broken fences. At least the solid, oak cabin by the stream stood in tact, smoke billowing from the chimney. 

Eleanor is so focused on keeping her eyes peeled for a rampaging slug monster that she almost fails to spot the little person sat on the front step of the veranda.

She frowns. That has to be the whitest child she’s ever laid eyes on. Granted most kids growing up in Phoenix were smothered in fake tan before they were three by their moms, but this is something else. The kid has long white hair, half-plaited, down to the shoulders of the cream dress she’s wearing. Her skin is so pale it’s nearly translucent. Fork, is she looking at an actual ghost?

Wait...She’s a ghost. That really shouldn’t freak her out.

There’s just something so eerie about the little girl, from her sickly appearance to how weirdly quiet she is for...However old she is. Six? Seven? Thirteen? Eleanor really knows nothing about kids, just that they’re usually much louder than this one, sat alone, playing with a set of shining...

Oh.

“Michael?”

The kid looks away from the chain of a paperclips they were linking, gazing up at Eleanor on the gravel path. As soon as she sees their eyes, she has her answer. Even without a pair of glasses, she’d recognise those sparkling blue eyes anywhere. It’s only then that she remembers the third form.

Spooky little girl.

Though far less spooky than she imagined. More...sad.

Despite her surprise, she tries to smile, not knowing how badly she needed to see those eyes look at her again after this past month.

“Hey, buddy. How’re you feeling?” She starts to approach.

The kid drops the paperclips and jumps up to their feet, beginning to tremble terribly, eyes wide as saucers. 

Eleanor stops. Is he afraid? Of her?

“Michael? D’you remember me? It’s Eleanor, dude..”

“‘Hani!” The child cries turning and running inside the cabin. Fork, she knew was bad with kids, but shirt! Eleanor rushes in to follow, unable to hold back.

She enters the cosily furnished cabin to see the pale girl run up to the leg of the six foot beauty standing at the stove and cling to her skirt for dear life.

Tahani looks over from the pot of spaghetti, face fearful at first before lighting up when she spots her friend stood in the foyer.

“Eleanor! What a lovely surprise.” She beams, turning the stove off; “I’m so glad you decided to visit.”

“Wow...You’re kinda rocking the whole rustic single mom look here, babe.” Eleanor says, looking around the place, everything making her feel so warm and comforted from the open fireplace to the heavy air of recently baked bread. 

Tahani looks down to her charge hanging onto her dress, reaching down to pick the little fingers off carefully.

“Well, it was rather nice to have a project to myself, and Derek was surprisingly helpful. Everything else I acquired myself, having learned to survive in the wild from a well known ‘Bear’ friend of mine.” She holds the kid’s hands and bends down to their eye level; “Michael, sweetheart, look who’s come to visit. Remember Eleanor?”

The demon child whimpers, throwing their arms around Tahani’s neck and hiding in her luscious dark hair.

Eleanor bites her lip; “He’s a lot more shy than the slug monster, I take it.”

“Oh, I don’t understand. They were fine with Jason this morning, they were playing video games for hours - he and Janet teleported over briefly to check in on us. So glad they got back safe.”

So Jason gets a teleport but she takes the train? The first time she’s not an immortal being’s favorite to spoil.

Eleanor shuffles her feet, trying not to feel wounded at how terrified her friend currently is of her, when apparently there was no issue with Jason. But then, Jason makes it difficult for anyone to dislike him. Eleanor makes it an open invitation. 

The kid whispers something to Tahani that causes the woman to pick them up.

“Oh, darling, don’t be silly.” She responds, rubbing their back; “That was just a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” Eleanor asks. Is she the stuff of nightmares?

Tahani eventually convinces the pale kid to go back outside to continue playing while she catches up with Eleanor.

Questions Tahani has about the experiment and the subjects get quickly brushed aside. Eleanor is unable to focus on anything but the image of Michael’s eyes looking at her with so much fear. When Tahani hands her a fresh cup of cofffee, she wants to stick her hand in it, just to scold herself for the sake of it.

“He’s having nightmares? I mean...she’s having...” Eleanor frowns.

“I find it easier to use ‘they/them’, which Michael seems to prefer as well, currently.” Tahani explains; “Most of the time, they’re a calm, affectionate child. Such a welcome change from the beast I was putting up with a fortnight ago, as much as they grew on me. It’s just at night, while their brain is still reforming and all these memories are flooding back...It can be rather distressing. Trust me, it’s heart-breaking just to see them crying and screaming...”

She can’t imagine that recalling centuries of brutally torturing innocents along with the knowledge of why that was wrong is easy for anyone, least of all in the form of a small girl, creepy or not.

“Honestly, the creepiest I’ve encountered so far is them levitating at the end of my bed - and that’s usually when they’re just looking for a cuddle.”

Eleanor smiles a little, Michael never was the best at being a truly ‘frightening’ demon.

“And I’m in these nightmares?”

Tahani sighs; “I suppose the memories of their last night are mixed up with everything else. They just...were worried you were here to say something mean or...you wanted them gone.”

Fork-sake. 

“I never wanted this, Tahani. I never wanted him to...Shirt, I didn’t even think he could, but...” She struggles to hold back tears; “I shouldn’t have come. I’ve just made him...Them more upset. Fork knows what I’d be in for if I stayed for the Teenage Boy phase. He’d probably set my hair on fire as payback.”

Bratty Michael in his fully grown form had been enough to handle. A hormonal one with amnesia was a whole other level.

“Eleanor. Just go talk to them.” Tahani presses; “This whole distancing thing you two are doing to deal with your falling out is dangerous. You’re not going to fix anything by staying away from them. As I kept telling my good friend Courtney when she had a row with my other friends, Lisa and Jennifer - you just need to communicate!”

“Babe, they’re afraid to even be alone with me.” She’s the monster under the bed now. All because she took one sin he committed to heart and forgot about all the good he’d done for her that outweighed it.

“Then stay, there’s plenty of room. Even if it means we swap and you stay here and I return to help with the experiment. Either way, this needs to be sorted out. I don’t believe demons are supposed to be this upset during their growth...You could help with that.”

Can she? She’s not the nurturing type, like her hot friend. She melted her own doll in the microwave as a kid. And she unwittingly talked her own demon bestie into exploding himself.

Tahani’s hand squeezing her wrist gives her some strength. 

“...Okay. I’ll try.” she meets her eyes; “Is Michael the only one allowed to snuggle in bed with you when they’re scared?”

Ten minutes later, she goes to find the creepy girl outside, this time sat among the flowers, being far more gentle with them than her previous slug form was. 

Eleanor approaches slowly.

“Michael? Buddy?”

The kid gasps, standing up again and flinching back. Eleanor raises her palm.

“Please don’t run away. I promise I won’t hurt you...and I won’t be mad.” She says, soft as she can manage, getting down to the ground; “And I’m not gonna make you go away anywhere. I just wanna chat...That ok?”

Michael doesn’t look too convinced, glancing over at the cabin. Looking for the one constant they’ve had, who’s been here for them, caring for them. Where Eleanor should have been, at least sometimes.

Okay. Time for the trump card.

“I got you something. Tahani said you have trouble sleeping. I thought maybe this guy could help?” She produces the minion toy from behind her back.

Michael’s eyes sparkle and he instantly reaches out to take it.

“So ugly!” They cheer, hugging it to their front.

Eleanor chuckles. Still so easily impressed.

“Can’t argue there...Also, I picked up those paperclips of yours. Did you know you can do this with them?” She holds up the chain; “Gimmie your wrist a minute.”

Michael frowns, hiding behind the toy a little.

“I won’t bite, dude. Kids are way too gross to eat. You’re too stringy and bony.” She wrinkles her nose.

They blink at her before slowly holding out their wrist. Eleanor takes the paperclips and links them around Michael’s arm, forming a bracelet.

The child gasps, clearly thinking they’ve seen it for the first time; “Holy motherforking shirtballs.”

“Damn, you kiss Tahani with that mouth?” That must have been another residue memory tucked away.

Michael sneers; “Kissing is gross.”

“It’s pretty weird if you think about it, yeah.” She concedes, glad they’re at least talking, as much conversation as she can have with a billion year old immortal that’s lost their mind as they regrow in the body of a haunting little girl; “...What about hugs? You like them, right?”

The kid nods, eagerly.

“...Maybe I could have one, someday? If we can be friends? I’d like that...” More than they could know right now. More than anything else, even having Chidi remember her. This...This is just as painful, because she can’t be sure if this is fixable. 

Eleanor crosses her legs as she sits, facing her friend.

“I’m so sorry, Michael. I know...you don’t understand that right now but...I’m sorry for why you’re scared of me...I wouldn’t ever wanna hurt you. Please believe me.”

Trust me? God, she’s such a hypocrite. 

The kid eyes her, up and down, before turning to the flowers. They bend down, picking a few up into a small bouquet of daisies. Michael turns and hands it out to her.

“Oh...Uhh....Thanks...” Eleanor reaches for them.

Michael’s blue eyes flash red. The flowers burst into flames.

“Forking shirt!” Eleanor jumps.

And still the kid holds them out; “Pretty, right?”

A heartfelt laugh tumbles out of her; “...I can tell Jason’s been here.” Or maybe that was part of her friend’s demon nature. Either way, it was adorable. “Thank you, Michael.” she says, taking the flaming daisies. “You know...if you want, I could show you how to make chains out of these? We could make a crown for Tahani?”

“And ones for me and you?” Michael asks, hopeful.

Eleanor’s lip quivers, a sudden lump in her throat. She reaches out to run her palm over her friend’s white hair, soft as it’s always been; “Yeah...Me and you too, bud.”

[punkpoemprose]

December 13th- A Convenient Arrangement Part 5

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 4046 Words A/N: Anna meets the trolls! I continue to try to catch up! Lets see which one of these two things goes better, shall we? A bit of a slow chapter all in all. More fun stuff coming in parts 6 & 7!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

They walked through the quickly darkening wood and Anna felt her heart racing in her chest as the dark part of her thoughts, the part of her that could never believe that anything good could ever happen to her, was screaming.

Don’t trust him. You’re going to die out here. He’ll call it an accident. It’ll be just like Hans.

She hadn’t been so scared at first, in fact she’d been enjoying the walk. There was plenty on the path to keep her eye occupied in the warm afternoon light. Little flowers, and mushrooms were bright and friendly, their petals and caps gleaming when she glanced down at them. The gentle rustling of leaves on the trees and the call of overhead birds had seemed so lively and comforting when everything was bright and warm.

When the sun sank low over the horizon, the shadows grew longer, and the air began to grow cool. The breezes were not icy, just cool in the way that the air sometimes became on summer nights, particularly away from the temperate influence of air coming off the fjord. The rustling of leaves seemed less lively then, and more ominous. The calls of birds seemed less friendly and more predatory, and some part of her brain that had been listening in her science lessons reminded her that mushrooms were associated with death and decay.

Kristoff’s hand felt less reassuring.

Run.

He squeezed her palm.

“Almost there,” he said.

She couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her.

Run before it’s too late you stupid girl.

“I did my best to explain the circumstances of our wedding,” he said, his voice low as he again broke the silence between them, “They’re kind of… hardheaded though. So, if they say anything rude or if they ask anything that makes you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I’ll stay right with you, you can squeeze my hand if you’re upset and I’ll figure out how to change the subject or something. They’re very excited to meet you.”

She wasn’t sure what it was that calmed her really. Maybe it was the gentleness of his apologetic tone? Or perhaps it was the fact that he was making plans to ensure her comfort. Surely it wasn’t something he’d invent if he had any intentions of hurting her.

He would never hurt you.

The much more charitable voice was attempting to wrest control from the negative one, and Anna tried to focus on something positive as she tried to level out her breathing and walk one step at a time forward. She decided to focus on Kristoff, as he was surely the most friendly looking part of their current surroundings.

He hadn’t shaved today. She noticed the very light shade of stubble on his cheeks and along his jaw. She hadn’t noticed on their wedding day that he could even grow facial hair. He’d looked so much more boyish to her then, probably because he was just as nervous as she’d been.

His hand was warm and grounding in her own. She gave his hand a little squeeze, and was surprised when he looked over at her with concern in his brown eyes. He squeezed back gently, and she realized that he had just got finished saying that she could squeeze his hand if she was upset. She gave him an apologetic look at then she saw the concern fade, replaced with a soft smile on his lips and a small spark of something in his eye.

She felt warm under his attention.

Safe.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” she asked quietly, the first thing she’d said since the start of the walk.

He smiled then, a broad and amused grin. He looked at her for a moment as if she’d said something very funny and pulled her, just a bit, closer to his side.

“I think they already do.”

***

When they broke into the clearing of the Valley of the Living Rock, Kristoff felt a nervousness in his stomach. It was a fluttering thing, making him wonder if he was going to be ill. It made him feel hollow, like his heartbeat was bouncing and echoing through him, amplifying his anxieties.

He almost wondered if Anna could sense his nervousness, but she seemed unaffected by it. Her mood had been, just a few short minutes before, apprehensive at best. He chocked it up to nerves, but now he thought that there might have been more to it. When he’d glanced at her she’d seemed outright scared, but then after they talked, she’d calmed significantly.

He could already read his wife quite well. Her moods read to him a bit like a popup book did to a child. This meaning that he could get the main idea rather quickly, but interpreting it further was a struggle. That he’d managed to respond to her properly was surely dumb luck, but he was glad for it. She seemed at least somewhat comfortable standing at his side before the open field of mossy stones.

“Is your family meeting us here, or?”

He took a deep breath, letting it fill his lungs and make his gut feel a little less like a hollow receptacle for fears and concerns. Explaining his family to her was something he’d thought about, but mostly in a theoretical sense, and not particularly deeply. He hadn’t formulated a plan on his way to his cabin, nor had he found a particularly good way to broach the subject on his way back to the valley with her.

You’re going to sound like a crazy person.

He gestured at the stones, a bit broadly as the sky continued to darken. Day had turned to afternoon and it too had turned to evening at a rapid pace. Despite the significant time spend in the sled together as they rode up to his cabin, he felt like he hadn’t had enough time with her at all, not enough time to explain, not enough time to know how she’d react.

“They’re already here.”

He watched as she glanced around the space, as if she’d simply just missed someone standing before her. He saw her eyes scanning the stones, grazing over them like she couldn’t possibly imagine anyone there, and he wished that he had the words to prepare her. He couldn’t find them, or anything even close.

So he stepped forward into the space and reached down to touch the nearest stone.

“The sun’s almost set,” he said, “You can wake up now. I brought her.”

He could sense the confusion from Anna behind him. He could practically feel her eyes on him as he walked through the valley and touched more stones, gently waking his family.

She thinks you’re crazy person.

“Kristoff?”

Her voice sounded strange from behind him, a mixture of fear and concern that made his heart pound. He wasn’t sure if she’d understand, if he could make her understand, that his family was not exactly human. With the confirmation that her sister, the Queen of Arendelle, had abilities beyond the realm of conventional belief, he had to hope that she would keep an open mind.

“Kristoff,” she repeated, “Are you… are you alright? I…”

The rocks began to shift around his feet, rolling towards him.

Anna stopped speaking and instead shrieked. He turned quickly to see her backing up with stuttering steps, her hands out before her, with terror in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Anna. Don’t be scared, they’re just…”

“Trolls.”

***

Anna felt as though her eyes were about to pop out of her head, that her heart was about to give out. Kristoff had told her that he was going to bring her to meet his family, but instead she’d watched him address a field of mossy stones that were now rapidly rolling his way.

She thought for a moment that there may have been some kind of natural disaster happening, a landslide, or an earthquake, or something explainable. She tried to make it work in her head as she backed away from the space on shaking feet, but to no avail.

A landslide on flat land. An earthquake that only moves stones and doesn’t shake the ground. Logical Anna. Very logical.

Kristoff turned to her and seemed to register her panic. She could see the fear in his eyes in return, but it was a strange look. It wasn’t the sort of panic she would expect to see on the face of someone about to be crushed by oncoming moving stones, but instead it seemed to be directed at her.

It reminded her of the hurt she’d seen in his eyes on their wedding night. When she’d insulted him by accident when she’d thought he’d insist on bedding her. It confused her, and as she continued to try to move away, her eyes pleading with him to do the same, she heard him speak.

He was telling her not to be afraid.

He’s crazy. He’s literally insane. I have been married off to some kind of half mad forest hermit and he’s only held it together until this moment.

There was a scraping sound that joined with the dull thudding of the rolling stones. She tried to make sense of the noise, to understand what was making it, but it was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. She thought it might just be the stones bumping together, but then she realized that none of the small boulders were colliding, but rather were moving in unnaturally straight paths toward Kristoff, like they were seeking him out.

She saw it then, the source of the scraping sound.

They’re unrolling. They’re alive.

She felt her jaw drop, her stumbling feet almost tripping beneath her as she took in the change occurring before her. The stones weren’t really stones at all, but were instead small humanoid creatures made of grey stone. They varied a bit in appearance, some large and some small, all with round noses and black eyes. She noticed that they were dressed in clothes of moss and grass, and that some, around their rocky necks, wore crystals.

Like the ones in his chest.

“Trolls,” she said, the word falling from her lips as soon as the connection was made. “They’re trolls.”

She remembered childhood stories, being held in her mother’s arms on her bed as she or her father told her tales. There was one about an enchanted forest, one about the spirits of nature, one about the creation of the kingdom, and several about creatures who were said to live in the mountains and forests of Arendelle. The topic of several stories she’d enjoyed in particular was trolls.

She recalled him reaching out for her hair before the impromptu hike they’d just taken. She remember his questioning her about how she’d gotten it, and the amused and pleased look he’d offered her when she’d told him the childish explanation she’d formed as a child.

I dreamt I was kissed by a troll.

She supposed that she had been now. Even if only an adopted one.

Kristoff looked straight at her, the concerned look on his face, the nervous upturn of his lips, the furrowing of his brows, still evident despite the space they’d put between them.

“They are.”

Oh.

She was half expecting him to shake his head and let her know that she was seeing things. She almost wanted to hear that she was losing her mind from stress and lack of sleep, but no. He was standing with his family, looking at her with an almost pleading expression, as if he needed her to understand.

And she did.

If my sister can freeze half the kingdom because she panics, I can’t exactly find it odd that his family is a valley full of rock trolls.

“I…” she didn’t know what to say.

She took a deep breath, focusing on letting her lungs fill with air after the panicked shouting she’d done. She let her eyes linger on Kristoff’s face, and the softness that was there. She thought about how he made her feel, even though their relationship was new, and felt her muscles relax as she calmed. Once she was breathing with relative ease and she managed to wrap her head around the basic concept that she was addressing her husband and his family, she was able to let years of “princess training” take over. She’d never been perfect at being properly royal, something she chocked up to not ever being able to practice what was preached to her, but she hoped that her manners would be good enough for a valley of stone people.

“Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

She addressed the crowd, but kept her eyes on Kristoff as she spoke, anchoring herself on him. This was his family, and now, through marriage, hers as well.

***

Kristoff watched as the valley around him descended into chaos.

Somewhere off to his side one of his aunts broke the silence after Anna spoke, and did so in a much less delicate and proper manner than his wife had managed.

“Kristoff brought a girl!”

The convergence on Anna after her shout was inevitable, and he couldn’t help but curse himself for walking so far away from her. There was a momentary panic in his wife’s face as his family ran and rolled towards her but when he gave her a concerned and apologetic glance, he found that she simply smiled and furrowed her brows in return, her shoulders shrugging as if she were trying to communicate “I’m okay” over the distance, but still offer her trepidation at the same time.

He walked through the crush of small stone bodies before someone could steal her away. There were questions being shouted to both of them, but there was little he could make out as the voices intermingled into a cacophony of hoots and hollers and conversation. Evidently his parents and grandfather had not had the time to inform the rest of the family before his arrival with Anna.

“Guys, please,” he said, loud enough that he hoped he could be heard, but not so loud that he might frighten Anna with his shouting, “We’ll explain soon, just… where’s Pabbie?”

He managed to catch Anna’s hand as he approached, and carefully pulled her towards him, his family moving out of the way as they moved to occupy a closer space.

Trying his best to be comforting he squeezed Anna’s hand in his own, but instead of her usual squeeze back, he found her moving closer into his space, shifting so that their arms crossed behind them and so that her back was against his chest. She dropped his hand and then leaned into him.

It was instinct when he took the hand that had been in hers and draped it around her waist protectively.

She made a soft sound when he did so, and while he still wasn’t totally sure of her cues and what anything she did really meant beyond his initial instinct and assumption, he thought that she might be comforted. He pulled her a little closer and she leaned into him further. He thought that he might feel some tension leaving her at the contact.

Wishful thinking.

He was about to ask about Pabbie again when the crowd of the family parted abruptly, and a familiar stone came rolling their way. He pressed his arm into Anna’s waist gently, doing his best to be reassuring as the crowd returned to silence. He could feel her tensing again, and he wished more than anything that he would have waited to bring her to meet his family.

If he’d just managed to spend a week with her, to learn more about her, he may have known how to comfort her better. He might have known the right words to say so that this wouldn’t all come to her as a shock, but he hadn’t. He’d brought her to meet his family after marrying her as a complete stranger. He’d frightened her more in the last few days than he would have liked.

If she makes it through this and doesn’t hate me, we’ll be alright.

At least, I hope.

“Pabbie,” he addressed the old troll as he unrolled himself before them.

His parents then shifted out of the edges of the assemblage and made their way to Pabbie’s side, standing in the small clearing with him and Anna. They were a small bubble of his immediate family in a sea of the extended members of the troll clan he’d been adopted into, and while he couldn’t say that he thought Anna was particularly relaxed by this, he did think that the space allowed her to again release some of the tension in her body.

“Mom. Dad,” he added as they entered the space.

He wished that he could see Anna’s face. He was reading her based on body language alone, and he wasn’t particularly proficient at it.

His mother and father were smiling though, and he had to hope that Anna found it as comforting as he did.

***

Kristoff was at her back and Anna was trying to focus on her breathing as the chaos of the stone creatures swirled around her. She took comfort in the fact that those who had entered her space had backed off a bit. She knew, instinctually, and from the stories her parents had told her as a child that the trolls were not going to hurt her, but she was still overwhelmed by them.

Kristoff wouldn’t take you anywhere where someone would hurt you. This is his family. They’re excited to see you.

The positive part of her thoughts was back and with a vengeance. She thought it might have something to do with the intimacy of Kristoff’s arm being wrapped around her waist, the way his chest being at her back made he feel surrounded and protected in a way she’d never experienced before. She realized after a short time that the deep calming breaths she was taking were mirroring the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

She closed her eyes for a moment and felt her face flush as she thought about breathing with him, but she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the mental image of facing him while doing so, lips barely an inch apart.

She tried to push it out of her mind.

When she began to focus on what was happening around her again she noted three trolls before her. If she’d heard and understood Kristoff correctly, she was fairly certain that they were his adopted parents and grandfather. She supposed it made sense given the wide berth the rest of the crowd was giving them while the three trolls closest to her were not seemingly bothered by their proximity to her and Kristoff. They all seemed to have smiles on their faces, and Anna allowed herself to think of them as happy to see her.

“You’re beautiful,” the troll with glowing pink crystals and white puffy flowers in her hair said in a warm tone.

His mother.

She managed to slip back into Princess mode, and thought that maybe if she thought of her marriage to Kristoff as political, and this meeting with his family as diplomatic might help. It wasn’t incorrect by any stretch of the imagination. Even in her father’s stories Arendelle was aligned with the trolls and had treaties with them.

Her marriage to Kristoff had been political. She’d just never realized how much, and she doubted that it was at all intentional.

“Thank you,” she managed, “That’s very kind to say, given you’re lovely yourself.”

She thought that maybe her tone made it sound like she was laying it on thick, but she actually meant it. There was a softness to the stone woman’s features and a brightness to her eye that Anna read as a unique sort of beauty. The pitted stone of her nose reminded Anna a bit of her own freckles, and she’d always liked them, so also liked the feature on the troll woman.

“Oh Kris,” the troll said, stepping forward into their space a bit more and grinning up at him, “I like her already.”

Anna felt his laugh as she heard it. More tension leached from her muscles as he gently shifted his hand up her side a bit until it was resting on her ribs. His laughter was soothing to her, and she already knew that she would enjoy making him laugh when she could manage it.

“I do too Ma,” he said, his voice low, as if it were just for her ears.

Anna’s heart fluttered at the admission, the words so close to her ear that she took it to be something that he wanted her to hear.

He likes me.

It was a silly thing to be excited about, but she supposed that every positive thing they could manage to find about their situation was something worth celebrating.

I like him too.

Pabbie, the older troll that seemed to command the respect of all others, cleared his throat.

Anna felt her eyes drawn to him and his wizened features. He had bags under his eyes, and a larger nose than the rest. She supposed the signs of aging were much the same in all humanoid creatures, though she couldn’t say for sure as her current count of humanoids only included trolls and humans.

He had expressive thick mossy brows, and his eyes appeared kind as they settled upon her face.

She did her best to hold his gaze and keep her breathing level. She wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with so many eyes on her, even though it was practically in the description of being a crown princess to be stared at. She hadn’t experienced it very much in her life before the last couple weeks.

“Welcome to our family,” the old troll announced loudly, setting the tone for the whole family, though it didn’t seem much different to Anna than the tone they’d set running towards her.

She realized it now that she was feeling safe and protected under Kristoff’s hold, that they were only excited about meeting her and that they’d only meant to greet her. It had been so overwhelming in the moment that she’d struggled to think anything about it, but now she could see that the valley was full of “people” who were just excited to see her. “People” who had raised her husband despite being a totally different species.

“We have much to discuss,” the old troll added, much more quietly.

He stretched out a hand to her, and Anna couldn’t help but disentangle herself from Kristoff’s arm to take his hand before she took the one offered by the old troll as well.

She wasn’t entirely sure what they had to talk about, but she suddenly felt excited about the prospect to discuss anything with the three trolls before her.

They know Kristoff better than anyone. They love him.

She hoped that maybe learning more from them, hearing their thoughts and stories might help her love him too.

There was a quiet part of her that thought that she didn’t need the help.

She squeezed Kristoff’s hand and felt him return the gesture comfortingly.

I’m already falling for him.

She thought that it was a bad idea perhaps, to let herself move from thinking about like to love, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart had always been open, and she couldn’t let what had happened to her close it.

You can’t fall in love with someone you just met.

She thought again about the irony of their situation. She’d managed to cause this whole mess by breaking the cardinal rule that you’re not supposed to marry someone you just met, and then the solution to fix the aftermath had been to do just that. So some rules, she supposed were meant to be broken for the right person. Or at least for politics.

She liked to think that maybe it really was for the right person though as she followed the old troll and felt Kristoff keep pace with her as they went.

I’m falling in love with my husband.

[stardew-goblin]

uhh still doing the prompts c: ? 15, Sebastian ?

#15 “Did you kiss?”

Sebastian x Farmer

Your first year in the valley went by in what felt like the blink of an eye. There were so many kind and wonderful people to befriend, but you had a special bond with two of the younger men in town, Sam and Sebastian. The three of you just clicked.

Sure, you got along with Abigail too but the way you connected with the boys was different. They were your best friends and you loved spending time with them more than anything.

It was summer, therefore Sebastian didn’t like to leave the house all that often but Sam was more than happy to run around town with you and keep you company while you foraged. He knew it could get lonely here and he didn’t want that for you. He’d even help you plant new crops if you bribed him with one of Gus’s super cheese pizzas.

Today was one of those days. You had a whole crop of melon to plant and you were already planning on calling in a pizza for dinner, so why not get the best of both worlds? It was always fun to have Sam on the farm. He worked (sort of) hard and he made you laugh which made the time pass by quickly.

After all the melon seeds were planted and watered the two of you walked to the saloon, laughing as always. As the Stardrop enters your view, Sam turns and gently shoves you to the side and then starts sprinting to the building.

“Last one there has to buy a round of colas too!” He shouts behind him.

You pick up the pace but he’s so tall and your legs can’t beat his stride. Your eyes are on his back when he trips over his untied shoelace and falls. You breeze past him and open the door to the saloon, you’re out of breath from running and now also from laughing so hard.

“What was that about a round if cola?” You say as you hold the door for him to enter.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles.

After your meal you decide to stop by for a visit with Sebastian. It had been weeks since you’d last seen him. You knew he felt like people didn’t take his job seriously, so when he told you he had a big project he was working on you wanted to give him space to do his thing without distractions.

You order a coffee to go and Sam offers to walk you up the mountain since it’s getting dark. You walk at a steady pace, the conversation easy as ever. Sam was so easy to talk to. He slings his arm over you casually as you walk, the warm summer air making you feel cozy and lethargic. Maybe I can convince Seb to at least stick his toes into the lake with me, you think to yourself. It was nice out and he could probably use a break from his dim basement.

You and Sam finally break through the thicket of pines that line Robin and Demetrius’s cabin. He pulls you in for a quick hug and gently punches your shoulder.

“Thanks for the pizza, Farmer.” He says with a light chuckle. “Tell Sebby I said hi and to not skip band practice again on tomorrow or I’m coming up here and putting a toad in his bed.”

“Gotcha.” You reply with a smile. “Bye Samson, don’t trip on your way home!”

He blushes as he turns to walk back down into the town. You stifle a giggle as you turn to make your way the cabin. You’re almost to the door when a waft of cigarette smoke floats to your nose. You immediately turn towards the lake where you know you’ll find Sebastian, probably sitting with his back against a pine tree, eyes on the water lost in thought.

He was closer than you expected, not quite to the lake, and you wonder how you didn’t see him sooner. You plop down next to him and shove the coffee in his direction.

“Hey, I thought you could use a pick me up while you work.” You say. “Plus... I missed you.”

“It seemed like you and Sam were doing fine without me.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that, Seb.” You furrow your brow. “We both really miss you.”

“Hmm.”

You roll your eyes. Sometimes Sebastian could give Elliott a run for his money when it came to who was more dramatic.

“Well, Sam said you better come to band practice tomorrow. Clearly he misses you.”

“I’m sure if you were there he wouldn’t even notice I was gone.”

“Do you want me to go?” you ask. “I came by because I missed you but if you don’t want me here then I can just go home.” Your heart clenches.You really did miss him and his behavior hurt your feelings more than you would like to admit.

He sighs and stamps his cigarette out on the dirt next to him.

“No. Look... I’m sorry, okay? I guess...” He bites the inside of his lip and focuses his stare to his legs that are folded beneath him. “I guess that maybe I got a little jealous.” He huffs out a sigh and his cheeks flush scarlet.

“Jealous? Look, Sebastian, I’m not trying to take your place or anything. We just thought you wanted to be alone to work! I-”

He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

“I’m not jealous of your friendship. I saw how the two of you were before he left just now. I’m sure you two are very happy but I just... I don’t like it. I’ll get over it, I guess.” He won’t look at you.

You let out a loud and obnoxious laugh and immediately clap your hand over your mouth when you see the hurt and anger on his face.

“I’m so sorry!” You practically shout. “Me and Sam... Not a thing. No. Nope. Just... no.”

“Really?” He still won’t look at you, his cheeks an even more violent shade of red now.

“I mean, sure, maybe we both thought about it at one point... But no. It’s not for us. We aren’t like that.”

He sips his coffee.

“Did you kiss?’ He finally asks.

Now it’s your turn to blush. Your solitary kiss with Sam wasn’t something you ever planned on talking about. It felt wrong, like kissing your brother. You both agreed to never speak of it (or think of it) again.

You draw in a long and shaky breath before you answer.

“Once.” You see his face fall and you feel your stomach tighten. “We agreed to never do it again though. It made us both realize things.”

“Yea, like what?” His voice softer now.

“Well, Sam totally has a thing for Penny.” You say. “And, well... I think I might like someone else.”

He finally turns his gaze to you. His deep brown eyes sending shivers down your spine.

“Who?”

You fidget with your hands and shift awkwardly in the grass. Your palms start to sweat as you respond.

“Sebastian...” You take a deep breath through your nose and close your eyes.

Before you can say anything else, you feel his lips delicately press against yours and your insides ignite.He pulls away sooner than you would have liked and rests his hand on the back of his neck and gulps the fresh night air.

“I just want you to be sure. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then have you realize things later.” He whispers.

You rest your head on his shoulders, inhaling his scent of cigarettes, coffee, and pine. You look up at the stars and try to quiet your reeling mind.

“I did realize something.” You say quietly. You lift your head to look into his eyes once more. “Sebastian, I think I’m in love with you.”

His face brightens and he says he loves you too. You rest your head back in his shoulder and close your eyes. You smile, contented. The two of you listen to the cacophony of crickets and frogs as you sit, both totally in your own worlds, yet so together.

Finally together.

[sendryl]

16! Describe your perfect day

Verdana: I love spending time outside, so honestly any all-day outdoors activity would probably be close enough to perfect for me.

But. Sometimes, when the noise in the house and the overprotective skeletons get to be too much and I have to get away for a bit?

I go camping.

The guys don't like it so much, but whatever. I'm a grown-ass skeleton, I can do what I want.

Near the top of one of the mountains close to our cabin, there's an old pine tree that's missing its top. I think it might've gotten struck by lightning at some point. Anyway, it's got a gorgeous view of a little lake in the next valley over, and I like to sit up there and just. Be.

I bring my binoculars, so I can look at the animals that visit the lake and all, but mostly I just like to sit up there and listen to the wind rushing through the trees.

So I guess I have a perfect weekend, rather than a day, huh? A day hike up to the tree, a day climbing the tree and relaxing in the sounds of nature, no voices aside from my own if I end up singing while I work, and then a day hike back down to the cabin.

The guys really don't like it, and we argued about it for a while. I finally asked whether they'd like to follow me and disturb my peaceful spot and then have me go looking for another more secret spot to get away and not tell them where it is, or whether they'd like to trust that they know approximately where I am and leave me alone for a bit.

They chose the second option. Smart guys.