#also i never understood the thing where people make OCs

[howlett-n-morgan]

More Than Words

3. An Advantageous Journey

Logan Howlett x OC!Reader

Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of human touch is the biggest burden imaginable... until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.

Chapter Warnings: mild language, mentions of scars and blood, a few traumatic events and ptsd symptoms, mostly fluff in this one guys… but LOGAN IS A WARNING. Oh and also I’m not from Canada and only have one Canadian friend so my apologies if Canada is depicted poorly… she was like ‘it’s just like America except there’s more snow and some people speak French’

Chapter Summary: Going back to Canada is supposed to be a quick trip that benefits Logan’s memory, but upon arriving, he seems to think that a fews days need be spent on diversions.

Word Count: 15.3k (God help me-)

“Then how were they able to cut you up?”  Poor phrasing, but he was never one for a gentle touch in his wording.  “Same way you were able to,” you reminded him, rolling up your sleeve to show where his claw marks had almost completely healed over. “Adamantium.” “Adamantium? You’re kidding,” he almost found it funny, the irony of it all. He’s the only one who can touch you, but he’s also the only one who can hurt you. “How’d they figure that out?”

The professor was the first one to speak to Logan the morning you both planned on leaving the mansion. Everyone was made aware of this, but few people understood why it was so necessary. Even Scott, who had endured some of the same treatment as you and Logan, did not know how to justify such a spontaneous trip in the midst of all the chaos surrounding mutants. Especially after the recent situation with Magneto.

It could be dangerous, but above all things, it could also bring answers. And Logan needed answers. About who he was, what he did, and where he’s supposed to go, now. The pain from his nightmares has subsided only a small bit while being here with everyone. He wants to make them go away for good. 

When Charles sits him down in the study that morning, he thinks he understands why. You’re a very important member of the team. He wants to make sure you return, and without a scratch. It makes sense in his mind… but the professor has other ideas for the conversation. 

“How long do you both plan on being away?” He asks, keeping a tether on Logan’s mind in case he is even the slightest bit dishonest. 

“Not sure,” he began with a sigh, sitting back into the seat he’d been given. “I guess it depends.”

“On what, exactly?” Charles kept his questioning thorough, but not for the reason of interrogating him. 

“On what we find.” Logan shrugged his shoulders and raised a brow. He really had no idea what he was going into when you said you’d take him to Stryker’s old bunker. “Guessing from the nightmares I’ve had, it’s not really a nice place.”

“Well, I assure you,” Charles began, turning his chair to the side and reaching for some documents on his desk. “You are in the best of hands. The very best. I just hope you know how lucky you really are.”

“Lucky? How so?” Logan’s curiosity wandered. He knew you were a valuable member of the team, and he was grateful that you would offer him such a strenuous task on your own shoulders, but he caught on that there was more that Charles hadn’t spoken. 

“Alice is a rare mutant. Like you, she can stand the tests of time, and never waiver. She is nearly immortal, and takes her job of protecting others very seriously.” 

“I picked that up,” Logan nodded in agreement. “She cares a lot about saving people.”

“She cares even more for those who are close to her,” the old man warned, his expression becoming more solemn and serious. “She will go to incredible lengths to keep her loved ones out of harm’s way.”

Logan was beginning to wonder where the point was in all of this. He knew you were the type to look out for others above yourself. You were an X-man, it kind of came as a job requirement… but more than that, he knew you were kinder than most people were, and the help you extended to him was not just a simple favor. 

“She has never experienced a bond like she has with you… with human touch.”

He understands now. Your powers, and the impact they have had on you is immense. You have to keep everyone at arm’s length, except for him. He can be let in, and he can do the things that others can’t.

“What exactly are you telling me?” Logan pondered, gruffly. Even with the professor’s point being made, he was still curious as to why he would bring this all up.

“I’m telling you to be careful. She’s already grown strongly attached to you for the sake of your touch, and will likely become fonder in these days to come. I ask you to think about and consider her feelings when you take her with you… If you hurt her, the consequences would be unimaginable.”

Logan does consider them, for a split second he considers them. He knows you’re fond of him, otherwise this escapade would not even be happening… but he also knows that his ability to touch you is the defining factor. His feelings for someone else block out any signs that your interest in him could further develop, at least past what it is already. Even with all this in mind, Logan is a smartass, and wants to tempt the man in charge by challenging his threat. 

“I can imagine quite a bit,” he smirked, nodding his head side to side. 

Charles did not take that comedically whatsoever, and Logan didn’t really expect him to. It was probably a bad idea to open his mouth in the first place. 

“You mock me when I’m trying to help you?” 

“No sir,” he let out with a breath. 

“The consequences I speak of would not be dealt by I or any of her colleagues…”

“Then by who?” Logan asked, his voice not raised, but becoming more prominent as the conversation became more pointed than it was before. “Is there some big bad monster I should be worried about?” 

Charles sighed. He wasn’t getting anywhere, and Logan only seemed to become irritated the more he spoke. He took a glance into the man’s mind, and found that a beautiful woman with long red hair rested among his thoughts, though he should not be thinking about the woman that is most definitely taken. 

“I can see that your mind is clouded by thoughts of someone else,” Xavier changed the subject, tapping into the specific thoughts and trying to gather more details. It appears this conversation was mostly for nothing. Charles sighs, “Do not hurt Alice, Logan. If you do, her pain will become yours.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Logan stood up, assuming this was the last of the professor’s advisory words. He was becoming quickly annoyed with how little the man trusted him, and how intrusive he’d been this whole time. 

He wouldn’t lead you on, but he wouldn’t shut you out, either. You’d been so helpful to him, he wasn’t going to push away the one piece of his past that just might bring everything together. That would be foolish of him. 

“Logan,” The professor stopped him one more time, and he turned to look at the man, sitting straight and with a firm gaze from his wheelchair. “When the time is right, ask her about a man named Charlie.”

Logan sighed, filing that thought away in his mind before heading back upstairs to pack some of his belongings together. 

-

You never wanted to go back to Canada. 

You swore after you got out the first time that nothing good could ever come out of Canada and you stuck to that belief. 

But you’d met Logan in Canada, and he wasn’t so bad. Scott, too… although he’d been a teenager at the time and was much more annoying back then.

“On your way already?” Ororo was leaning in your doorway when you looked up, watching you stuff your travel backpack until it could barely zip up on the side. 

“About to be,” you heaved it up onto your back, adjusting your posture to hold it correctly, then walked to meet her at the door. “I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye.”

She grabbed your hand, covered in your little green gloves. “Keep in touch, will you?” 

“I will, I promise,” you nodded gently. “I won’t stay away for long.”

“You say that now,” she crossed her arms and shook her head jokingly. “But going away with a guy that looks like that? And he’s the only man in the world that can touch you? Baby, I’ll be lucky if I ever see you again.”

You laughed along with her, giving a warm smile and a nod. “He’s something…”

“He’s ready to go,” Logan teased, coming up behind Ororo.

You blushed, knowing he probably heard the conversation while leaving his room. You avoided making eye contact with him yet, just gave a thin lip smile while looking back to your dear friend and saying your last goodbyes. You only wished you could hug her close to you, for all the years she’s spent in your corner. 

“I guess I’ll see you around, Ro.” 

“Don’t be a stranger… Call me when you can.” She gave you a strong look, indicating that she was serious, and not just playing along for the sake of goodbyes.

“You know I will…” you trailed, giving her one more squeeze of the hand before walking behind Logan towards the stairs. 

Once at the bottom, there was just a slight obstacle. Rogue caught you both leaving, and had a few words to say. 

You’d admit, you felt bad leaving her here, especially when you’d been so adamant to her before that you were going to teach her about her powers and how to get used to them without the fear of hurting others. It’s only now that you realize you won’t be able to help in the most detrimental stages of her mutant education… but you would return. You knew you would. 

You had to help Logan, first. He was the priority. He saved your life once, and it was time to pay that debt forward. 

Logan had left his dog tags with Rogue, along with a promise that he would be back. Of course he would… Or maybe he wouldn’t. You never thought about what could happen if he should find his memories and remember who he is. He might have loved ones and a family to return to…

“She’s got a crush on you,” you mentioned to him once you were out of the house. You looked at him, and he seemed unsurprised. “And she trusts you…”

“I figured that much,” he smirked, walking towards the main garage around the side of the large house. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Did I mean what?” He turned to ask you, his features twisted in confusion. 

You sighed, stopping at the garage door but making no motion to use the lock pad to open it. 

“When you said you were going to come back…” you trailed, scanning your thumb print on the pad so the door would fold up. State of the art technology for the lock, but the same old door from the seventies. 

It took him longer than you expected to answer the question, but you figured since it held some weight, it was good that he thought it out clearly. 

“Yeah, I meant it.”

You looked to him, the decision he made was worn on his face and it was easy to see he was telling the truth. 

“Good,” you nodded, walking inside first and grabbing your keys from your pocket. Logan immediately gave you a glance of mischief, and walked in the other direction. 

“Logan, no…”

“Logan, yes,” he taunted, going over to sit on the motorcycle that belonged to Scott. You weren’t going to play this game with him.

“We are not going all the way to Canada on a bike.” You were trying to be the reasonable one here, but he was so damn stubborn. Two could play that game, you were stubborn, too. “Get in the car.”

“Get on the bike,” he nodded behind him, the open seat looking appealing for only a moment. “I know you want to…”

“No, I don’t…” you opened the driver’s side door, and climbed in, shutting it behind you… but he didn’t budge from the damn motorcycle. 

When he turned it on, the engine roaring to life and revving from the motions of his hand, you closed your eyes for a split second before doing the worst thing you could have possibly done. You climbed out of the car and went to the motorcycle, swinging a leg over and holding onto him with a big huff. He knew you did it for show, not because you were actually upset. 

“Comfy?” He threw a smirk over his shoulder, and you huffed again for emphasis. 

“No.”

He just laughed, pulling out of the garage and onto the road. 

You would admit, the wind in your hair, and the lovely smell of the pine trees lining the streets was wonderful. All the sights on the way to your destination were quite lovely, and though you could see them from your car just the same, it wouldn’t feel like this. 

This feels like flying, almost, with the breeze beneath your wings, and the sounds of nature as you pass through. 

Logan can almost sense your smile when you drive by a particular area full of color changing aspens, the scenery surrounding you felt almost like a dream, something from out of a movie. 

He never said anything to taunt you about being right, or made a comment about how much you seemed to be enjoying yourself. It was silent between you both for hours, until the sun began had set, and you’d finally crossed the border into Canada. 

“We’re gonna have to stop soon for the night,” he mentioned when you’d pulled off the road to get something to eat. Just a little rest-stop… gas stations, fast food, the works. You’d spotted a sign a few miles back for a motel, but weren’t sure where to go in order to get there. 

“Fill up the tank, I’ll go inside and ask about directions,” you told him, swinging your leg off of the bike and walking away. 

He was certain that this dynamic between the two of you was working well already, and that he didn’t need to heed Charle’s words as much as he originally intended. You seemed to go with the flow of things, and were rather easy to get along with… and you didn’t seem to be super into him like the professor said you would be. You cared about him, sure… but he cared about you too, and without crossing any lines. 

Filling up the bike, he leaned against the metal machinery, his head dozing back and forth from his tired state. It wasn’t until you returned, holding a map and a bag of gas station pastries that he was fully aware again. 

“The guy marked that motel out for me on the map,” you said, unfolding the paper and showing it to him, the red marker lining the road and the turn off. “It’s two exits down.”

“Easy enough.” He took a look at the marked location for himself, waiting for the gas pump to finish topping off the tank.

“I got you a donut,” you said, handing him a paper bag like your own. You’d pulled a maple donut from yours, so he was appalled to find that his was not also a maple donut. 

“Chocolate?” His eyebrows raised, only teasing you, but still just slightly butthurt about the donut. 

“You don’t like chocolate?” You furrowed your eyebrows, talking with your mouth full of the first bite you took.

“Did they not have any other maple glazed?” he nodded to yours, the joking nature still filling his tone. 

“This was the last one.” You reasoned. You found it a little funny, but felt a little bad at the same time. 

He huffed, shaking his head, but then you smiled sweetly, holding out the donut with a single bite taken to him. 

“I’ll trade you,” you offered, knowing that in the end, it was just a donut compared to the grand scheme of things. 

“Thanks,” he muttered gratefully, a sideways smile spreading on his cheeks. He’ll admit, it was a sweet gesture, no matter how small. He handed you the chocolate donut, and took a bite out of the one you gave him. “Maple donuts are for real Canadians.”

“You’re Canadian?” you asked, a bit of surprise coming from you. You met him in Canada, but it was somehow still a shock to you. He seemed very American when you first met him, and even now. 

“S’one of the only things I can remember,” he nodded, his demeanor livening up quickly, and all because of a donut.

“Huh,” you stared off, wondering if he’d known Stryker for long before his memory faltered. Clearly he’d been abused by the man, but to what extent, you weren’t sure. You have bits and pieces of memories from that era, and most were just feelings of the energy around you.

“You didn’t know?” 

“You didn’t tell me…” you trailed, enjoying the chocolate donut, despite maple donuts being better. Him enjoying it was satisfying enough.

“We should get out of here,” he yawned, crumpling up the paper bag and tossing it into a nearby trash can. “Road is dark, and I’m tired.”

“Big, strong, manly… but gets tired on a little road trip?” You teased, finishing up the pastry before throwing away the trash and getting back on the bike with him.

“You try steering this thing all day.” He threw a smirk over his shoulder, revving the engine. 

“I would, if you’d let me,” you chided, another taunt that you knew wouldn’t end in your favor. He’d never be caught dead on the back of a motorcycle like this with someone else behind the handles.

“Not a chance…” 

-

Having checked into the small motel, you ached for a shower, but given that Logan was practically falling asleep already, you let him go first. 

Maybe it was a mistake, he’d been in there for a while, and you thought maybe all the hot water would be gone by the time it was your turn. You just hoped he hadn’t fallen asleep in there, propped against the shower wall. 

You might just shower tomorrow at this point, unwilling to wait for the water to heat back up. 

With a sigh, you changed into something a little more comfortable, the pair of sweatpants and sweater that were shoved to the bottom of your giant backpack. It was wrinkled as all hell from the journey, but you knew that didn’t matter. It was cozy, and warm, and being in Canada as late fall was setting in meant you needed to be as warm as possible. 

You curled up on the queen bed closest to the heater with your book, which you’d deemed necessity enough to bring on this escapade to another country.

When Logan finally emerged, he’d adorned a pair of flannel pants, and a gray t-shirt, which was admittedly a bit small for him. The fabric hugged his body a bit tighter than he was used to, but good lord almighty… this man looked stunning. 

The dim light from the bathroom, mixed with the warm glow from your bedside lamp while you read, it made him look like he glistened. The stray water drops on his face and neck, and the quickly curling upwards strands of his damp hair. You never guessed that his hair just did that naturally. You found yourself staring a little too long, and as soon as Logan picked up on it, dropping the towel he used to dry his hair, he chanced a look in your direction. Quickly your eyes found the pages of your book again, and you kept a straight face, hoping nothing would be said about it.

“That a good book?” he smirked, knowing that you could barely even focus on it a second ago. 

“Mhm,” you zoned in on the words, reading them over and over, but none of what they mean stuck in your head. You could only think about what you just saw, and what you still could see if only you turned your gaze. 

“It looks old,” he commented on the bent pages and old fabric cover. It looked worn and well loved. 

“It is old. I got it on the day it was released in nineteen fifty-three.”

He whistled lowly, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “You read it a lot?”

“Once a year,” you mumbled, still acting engrossed with the page you’d been stuck on since he entered the room. “It’s my favorite book.”

“What’s it about?” He sat down on the edge of his bed, leaning forward and looking at you tiredly. He was exhausted, wasn’t he? Why didn’t he just say goodnight and go to bed?

“The future… the way the author thinks our societies will begin to crumble,” you explained, turning towards him and letting the book fall on your chest, pages still open. “Books will be outlawed, and a group called the firemen will be required to burn any that are found.”

“Sounds interesting… also sounds a little miserable. Why’s it your favorite?” He grinned, throwing his sheets and blankets up and lying beneath them, keeping his head propped up on his hand so he wouldn’t fall asleep yet. The warm glow of your bedside lamp cast him in such a pretty glow…

“I think it feels very real to me, in a way…”

“You think books are gonna be outlawed?” He laughed slightly, clearly finding himself misunderstanding your meaning. 

“No, but with the way things are playing out, it feels like a projection of what’s to come. Of course, they will make the enemies of the future out to be mutants, not books.”

“And these… firemen,” he put finger quotes around the word, trying to be hypothetical about the situation. “You think there will be groups like that?” 

“Mutant hunters? Absolutely… They’re already out there, just look at what happened to us,” you sighed, the facts of the matter weighing you down, even though it had been a pleasant conversation. You enjoyed talking about your favorite book, but everyone in the mansion had already heard about it a thousand times. It was refreshing to get a new audience to share thoughts with. 

“I never thought about it that way…” he furrowed his brow, his eyes drooping with every second passed. He had to be fighting sleep for his life. 

“Mutants are supposed to be the future… but we’ll never see that future if we have to battle extinction.” 

He didn’t reply, his mind elsewhere. You watched him carefully, his face looking deep in thought. You returned to your book by the time he finally spoke up again. 

“You’ll have to let me borrow that book sometime,” he rolled over as he said it, so when you glanced over at him, his back was facing you. “G’night, Alice.”

“Night, Logan…”

-

In the morning, you woke up later than usual, no alarm clock or imminent threat looming to pull you from your slumber. It was nice, being able to wake up naturally for the first time in years. You felt so well rested that you nearly forgot where you were. The chill air of the morning surrounded you just outside of the thick blankets and sheets you were under, but it wasn’t unpleasant, it was refreshing. 

When you opened your eyes, you began to recall everything slowly. Sitting up, you find that Logan isn’t in the bed across from you, or in the room at all. You furrow your brow and stand to your feet, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes when a note catches your eye. 

Placed on a tiny table by the janky minifridge, there’s a paper bag and a torn off napkin with some words scribbled on it. 

Be back soon… got you something.

Inside the paper bag was a maple donut. It looked really good, too. Much better than the fifty-cent one you’d traded to him the night before. 

You smiled and took a bite, eating while going about your morning routine, wanting to shower and  get ready to leave the motel. You weren’t sure what Logan was up to, but with him being Canadian and all, you’re sure he’s just happy to be back. 

He knocked on the door, the latch lock seeming to have been flipped over when he left. 

You dropped your change of clothes back onto your bed, running over to the door and letting him in. He seemed to have a relaxed grin on his face, and looking at his clothing, there was a light sheen of icy water coating his leather jacket. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you along, completely barefoot and still in your pajamas. 

Once outside, you saw that the grounds were covered with just a small dusting of snow. It wasn’t thick, or freezing, but it was still falling around you, and you suddenly didn’t mind getting dragged away from the warm room. 

“It’s snowing already?” You asked in confusion, as if he had the answer. 

“It’s Canada, what did you expect?” 

You just continued to enjoy the pretty sights around you, then realized your feet were still bare and you were likely going to make yourself sick if you didn’t go back inside. 

“Let me go shower and we can check out,” you muttered, looking at him and finding he was just as captured by the beauty of a quickly approaching winter wonderland. 

“I’ll make sure the bike is thawed out,” he joked, nodding to you. 

After you went back inside, he walked around to the front to where the bike was parked in the covered area. It wasn’t too cold, but it would still need some time for the metal to heat up. He’d been able to start the motor not too long after, and pulled it around the side of the motel to be closer to where you had stayed. 

He should have knocked before going inside, and he regrets not doing so, but upon opening the door to you half dressed, having yet to pull up your jeans, he seems to be frozen in place. You don’t notice him at first, and with the second glance he gets, he sees all the scars littered over your legs and hips. He remembers the first night when you’d put all the pieces together, knowing you’d met him before. You knew about his past, and he got a peek into yours. You'd told him a man named Stryker gave you those scars.

“Shit, Logan…” You trailed, yanking up your jeans faster and hopping your feet to speed up the process. When you noticed he’d just been standing there you panicked, and nearly fell down trying to get your pants up. “Don’t you knock?”

“I’m sorry,” he blinked himself out of it, furrowing his brow and dripping his eyes. He had to physically shake himself from the trance. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you stopped him, grabbing your things and packing them away, sliding your backpack on and walking past him. Your hair was still wet from your shower, but you didn’t want to stay inside and let the moment linger any longer. “Let’s get out of here, we still have a long way to drive.”

-

The hike through the fresh snow had been a little uncomfortable, mostly happening in silence. Since this morning, you’d barely spoken a word to him. You’d ridden miles and miles on the back of the bike without talking. Usually he was the silent type himself, but he’d felt bad for what happened, even after apologizing, so he decided it rested on his shoulders to break the quiet streak.

“I’ve been thinking… those scars,” he tried to broach the subject lightly, looking at you with a careful eye. “You’d said you were bulletproof, and fireproof. I had it in my head that you were impenetrable.”

“I am,” you gave him a flat stare, nodding your head a little.

“Then how were they able to cut you up?” 

Poor phrasing, but he was never one for a gentle touch in his wording. 

“Same way you were able to,” you reminded him, rolling up your sleeve to show where his claw marks had almost completely healed over. “Adamantium.”

“Adamantium? You’re kidding,” he almost found it funny, the irony of it all. He’s the only one who can touch you, but he’s also the only one who can hurt you. “How’d they figure that out?”

You kept on with your trek through the forest, the explanation rolling around in your head before you told him aloud.

“They’d been trying to take me apart for years, and all I’d do is rot in a cell… then they found a mutant called Lava, and she was the only person who could melt the adamantium they’d discovered. I guess they ran out of options with me… so,” you sighed, raising your eyebrows and trying to keep composure while talking about it. Opening up to him did little to help his own memory, but you did so anyway. Because he asked. “They coated a surgical set in adamantium to see what would happen… and it worked. They started taking parts of me wherever I could spare them.”

He had come to a slow stop, but you hadn’t noticed, continuing through the forest on your own, trying to make it to the edge of the lake before it got too dark. You at least wanted to pinpoint the location for tomorrow’s journey through the past. 

You turned around to see him standing dead still, a look on his face the likes of which you couldn’t decipher… What was he thinking behind those pretty eyes? 

“Logan, you okay?” 

He blinked out of his thoughts. You wondered if maybe he was remembering something and you’d stopped him. 

“Yeah, I just,” he shook his head and caught up with you, the solemn look not leaving his face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You shrugged, keeping in stride with him, not falling behind or going ahead this time. The conversation helped ease the awkwardness that came before in the silence. “It’s alright. It was a while ago… besides, you were the one who saved me, you don’t need to be the one apologizing.”

The hike kept on in a much more comfortable silence. The sun would be going down soon, and you didn’t want to spend the night out in the woods, especially when it had been starting to snow today. 

When you came across the small stream, leading to the edge of the lake, you picked up speed. 

“Should be right up here,” you told him, leading the way through the mucky ground, moist with melted snow and mud. 

You’d seen it before he did. You stopped in your tracks the second you looked across. 

He caught up, taking a look for himself, but quickly growing concerned with howtense and unmoving you were. Your expression had changed from the relaxed one it had been wearing to a firm yet frightened stare. It was eerily quiet, and you couldn’t move your feet. Your hands balled into fists and one at a time, the memories of this place came rushing back. Just seeing the base, abandoned and covered in rust, was enough to make you want to cry. You felt all the loneliness, all the pain, and all the lost hope that used to plague you in this very place.

“You okay, kid?” Logan came closer, and you nodded, putting on a brave face and turning to him with a forced look of calmness. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you even managed a stiff smile, but you refused to turn back towards the base, letting your shoulder have the pleasure of the view instead. “It’s getting dark, though.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, watching as you were quickly back on the path you came from, trying to keep the composure that you weren’t sure would hold. “Alright.”

He trailed on after you, and just before the sun was all the way below the mountains, you’d managed to get back to the road. The bike was cold again, but thankfully it started without a problem. 

He’d tried too hard to get to a comfortable place with you, but again he felt back at square one, sitting in awkward silence like he did this morning. Your hold on him wasn’t as tight as usual, and you didn’t seem to care how unsteady it was with every turn of the bike. 

You rode down the street about ten miles or so before coming across a small fishing town, with restaurants, bars, neighborhood markets, and even a cozy little motel. Much better looking than the one you’d stayed in the night previous.

He’d been the one to get checked in tonight, getting everything settled and making sure you were comfortable. You still weren’t in a chatty mood, but you’d loosened up just enough to have civil conversation, and answer the questions he would ask you. 

He let you take the first shower tonight, and you were out in only a few minutes, racing to get tucked into bed as quickly as possible. 

He took his time, knowing you were probably just going through the motions of being here, and he needed to let you experience it at your own pace. After all, you remember this place, and he doesn’t. The only thing he recalls are the torturous nightmares that plague his sleep. That alone tells him all he needs to know about the horrors and chaos this place caused.

He’s surprised to find you still awake when he gets out of the shower, towel around his hips and water running over his body. He thought you’d be asleep, so out of habit he didn’t bring his clothes in with him to change. 

He sees you’re reading your book, the one about the future. You’re so engrossed in it, your eyes never leaving the pages. He wonders if it’s a coping tool, a comfort item of sorts. He’d never thought of a book as a security blanket before, being written words on paper.

He didn’t say anything yet, unwilling to interrupt how calm you seemed to be now. Just grabbed his clothes and went back to the bathroom. 

Maybe going back there tomorrow isn’t a good idea. He appreciates the openness of your heart to do such a favor for him, but he doesn't want to cause you distress for his own gain. You’ve shown him where it is. He knows how to find it on his own, now. If he can convince you to stay back here, he’ll go on his own, find the answers himself. 

When he emerges the second time, you’ve laid your book down on the bedside table, placing a bookmark between the worn pages before settling yourself. He sits down on the edge of his own bed, and makes eye contact. You don’t break it first, but you remain silent. A man of few words, but he seemed to be the more chatty one today.

“I didn’t say anything before, but you seemed a little, uh… scared, earlier.”

You didn’t change the expression you wore, but somehow he could feel the shift in your emotions. He just wanted to ask and see if this was too much for you.

“I wasn’t scared, just remembered some stuff is all,” You sighed out, laying down and still looking over at him here and there, but not willing to speak more than what you’d said.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

It was an open offer, but he already knew the answer. For someone who seemed so extroverted and talkative when he met you, you’d somehow turned into a reserved and silent little girl since this morning.

“No…” You trailed, the word coming out soft and gentle.

“Okay,” he nodded, getting comfortable before rolling over and calling out to you as you turned out the light. “Goodnight…”

“Night, Logan.”

-

In the morning, you were already awake, clinging to your knees as you focused very hard on looking out the window by your bed. When he looked at the clock and read six, he figured you must not have slept well. He barely slept most of the time. His regeneration made it easy to stay awake days at a time, and he only needed a few hours to function. Not to mention he was often plagued with nightmares. He hasn’t had them the past few nights, which he finds strange, but at the same time, he isn’t complaining whatsoever. 

He swung his legs out of bed when he saw you were unmoving, just like yesterday at the lake. 

“Hey,” he placed a hand at your shoulder, softly breaking you from your endless stare. “You doin’ alright?” 

“Yeah, I just woke up a little early.”

Your little smile was forced, and he could tell, but didn’t say anything to negate your response. He just sat down beside you on the edge of the bed, looking outside the window where your gaze lingered. There was nothing specific to look at, just a view of the parking lot, and a few trees framed a small log cabin bar next door. 

“I uh… I had an idea last night…” he trailed, gaining your attention as you turned to him. “What if we took a few days.”

“What do you mean?” you furrowed your brows, tilting your head as you laid it on your curled up knees. 

“I mean, what if we don’t go to the base right away?” he suggested with a shrug. It had been a good idea in his head, to straggle behind a few days, and make the journey through the past when you were more settled. “I could tell the way it got to you last night, after you saw it.”

“Logan, I’m fine. Promise,” you nodded your head as if to assure yourself, but even as you were doing it you knew it didn’t look convincing. 

“You weren’t fine,” he corrected, unafraid to voice his concerns by now. “Look, you brought me here, and I’m really grateful… but you were uncomfortable to even look at that place, and I could see that.”

You huffed out a sigh, shaking your head and trying to seem like there was no reason for concern. You didn’t want him to back out after coming all this way just on your account. This was for him, not for you. 

“I’ll be okay,” you put on a more stern face, grabbing his hand. The gesture was more for your own comfort rather than his, but even still, you meant what you said. “I’d spent a long time trying to forget that place, and last night everything just sort of came back… but as long as you’re there, I’ll be okay.”

He listened constantly, the warmth of your touch was always so energizing to him. It made him feel like he was somehow stronger and charged with determination. He figured it had something to do with your mutation, and his ability to survive it. Not just survive, but thrive on it.

“You saved me from Stryker, Logan,” you let your legs fall from their curled position, scooting just a bit closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours, and his hand still lingered around the skin of your own. “I feel safe when I’m with you.”

His chest tightened when he heard those words. He’d realized only now what the professor's words meant a few mornings ago. He recalls exactly how they were said, and why. 

Don’t hurt her, Logan. 

It wasn’t just about the ability to touch, which he would admit was definitely a struggle in itself when he’d thought about how long you’ve been alive, with no one to cling to. Aside from the skin to skin contact, you trusted him. You felt safe in his presence. Most of all, you were doing all of this for him without asking anything in return, and he figured you didn’t even care if you got anything out of it in the long run. 

Charles didn’t want Logan to fall all over you in immediate love and commitment. He just wanted him to take care of you, attend to you and make sure you weren’t without comfort, especially in this terrible place you were headed. 

Her pain will become your own. 

It wasn’t about you becoming vengeful if you got hurt, and it wasn’t about your loved ones making him pay for his actions. He understood that now, too. It was about the guilt and shame he would feel for not having been there to help you should anything happen. Should this very situation happen. He won’t let you go it alone. 

“C’mere,” he sat further back, raising his other arm and beckoning you to sit closer with him. 

You didn’t even hesitate to climb under his wing so to speak, and lean against him as he’d gestured for you to do. He wrapped that arm around you, his head resting over top of your soft and slightly unruly morning hair. His other hand stayed in yours, unbudging for the time you sat there. 

At one point you’d felt so calm you closed your eyes, just absorbing his energy and feeling the comfort from it. It was a rough and hard facade at first, but his energy held layers, and the more you relaxed into him, the better you could feel what lies beneath. You could feel his gentleness, and his soft spirit, willing him to go wherever the wind blows. You could feel the slight sadness and confusion that he seemed to internalize every day. Probably from lacking his past, the memories and the people he used to have before Stryker messed him up. 

“I think taking a few days doesn’t sound so bad, you know?” You said quietly, just loud enough to reach his ears. 

“Yeah?” he smiled, looking down at you when you nodded. Your expression was happier than it had been before, the traces of fear were gone from your eyes. “It’ll be fun. I’ll show you a good time, then maybe you can change your mind about Canada.”

“Unlikely,” you laughed softly, your own smile taking over as you met his eyes. “You’re not so bad, for a Canadian, though.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

He’d stuck to his word. 

He’d shown you a good time around the small town, though he claims he’s never been there before. All the small business families were very kind and embracing, although it got to a point where talking to them was becoming detrimental to the length of your trip. Everywhere you went into, whether it be a shop, a small town bakery, or even an entertainment hub, there were people recommending things to do and see. And of course, you were not one to say no to an Adventure. 

On the back of the motorcycle, you’d gone practically all over the town, meeting people, and always being introduced the same way by Logan. 

‘I’m Canadian, she’s not… She doesn’t like it here much, I wanna change her mind.’

You laughed almost every time at the way the people would react, but would nod gleefully when they made suggestions on activities. You found yourself liking Canada, but only because Logan was here. He was making you laugh, and smile wider than you think you ever have. Not even three days into this endeavor, and already you’ve decided you’re falling for him. 

You don’t know how deeply he reciprocates those feelings, because he’s a flirt with nearly everyone… but the soft and gentle moments, like this morning, lead you to believe there’s something else there. Some part of him that is drawn to you like you are to him. 

His lingering touch on the small of your back when he opens the door and guides you through, or the arm slung around your shoulder to steer you in a different direction when something interesting catches his eye. Even the way he nonchalantly fixes your hair when he’s talking to you and the wind blows it out of place. It’s all so casual in the way it happens, and yet, it means everything to someone like you. Someone who has lived for two centuries without the normalcy of touch and comfort from another person. 

You try not to focus too much on what it means, and decide to live in the moment to enjoy each time those little touches happen. 

By the end of the day, you think maybe he’s taking you back to the ‘Cozy Pine Tree Inn’ that you were rooming at… but instead he pulls into the parking lot across the sidewalk. 

The half-working neon sign over the porch read ‘Jackalope Neighborhood Pub’ and when you looked inside, there must have been about ten people total, including the two bartenders behind the counter. 

It wasn’t a huge place to begin with, and the population of the town was probably less than the amount of students you had each week, but it was cozy, and you appreciated the warmth of it all, even though it was brutally cold. 

“Go on inside, I gotta put this under that covering in case it snows,” he encouraged, letting you hop off with a spring in your step. 

The inside was just as you thought it would be. Cozy, warm, dimly lit. The walls were covered in old pictures and heads of various hunted animals from up in the mountains. Sitting down at the bar, you shed your jacket and let it hang on the back of your low-back stool, keeping your gloves on for safety.

“Hi there, pretty darlin,” a man came up beside you, a smile on his face and a drunken twinkle in his eye. 

“Hi,” you smiled back kindly, nodding to him.

“Never seen you here before, I guess you’re new,” he came a bit closer, and even though he didn’t try anything yet, it made you nervous when people get this close. Your skin is covered, but it still makes you uneasy.

“I’m just visiting, actually… I live in New York.”

No, you didn’t owe him an explanation, but you felt the only way to keep him at bay would be to answer his curiosities as quickly as you could, not giving him room to think about anything else. 

“Why don’t I buy you a drink? A pretty girl in a place like this needs a drink.”

“I’m okay, but thank you. I’m actually here with someone, he’ll be back in a second,” you spoke quicker when the man took another step beside you, leaning up against the bar now and reaching for your hand. 

“Awe, c’mon… m’sure your buddy won’t mind,” he tried to grab at your forearm in a teasing manner, but you pulled your hands from the counter, pulling your sleeves down to cover the skin of your wrist that your gloves didn’t quite shield.

“Don’t touch me,” you rushed out, a panic beginning to pour over your words. “You could get hurt.”

“I could get hurt, huh? You're gonna hurt me, pretty thing?”

“You don’t understand,” you breathed shallow, trying to keep calm to no avail. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“Baby, I think you want me to stay right here,” he again got closer, trying to cage you in by bringing his arms on both sides of you and trapping your stool in front of him. 

Simply trying to get out of the situation without causing a scene, you leaned forward against the bar, pushing at one arm to try and sneak out… but as it turns out, you didn’t even have to.

Logan pulled the man away by his neck, looking him face to face and giving a harsh but somehow unbothered stare. This man was of no real threat to him, clearly.

“Leave my girl alone…” he let out calmly, though it was filled with threat. You knew he’d only added the possession for effective purposes, but you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the sound of it. 

The man didn’t even speak another word, rushing off to the other side of the bar. He wasn’t a small man by any means, but Logan, standing at six foot two, with a strong build and a deep temperament was sure to scare anyone off. 

Logan sat down at the bar next to you, ordering a beer for himself, and a whiskey for you. He owed you some payback Jack Daniel’s, if he remembers correctly. 

“Thanks,” you threw him a smile and a nod, which he returned. 

“Guy’s a creep,” he let out, his brows raised and an eager look on his face when the beer bottle was set in front of him. “Hope he didn’t ruin Canada for you.”

You laughed for what had to be the hundredth time today, shaking your head. 

“Of course, not. The only thing that could ruin it is what we actually came here to do,” you joked, sipping on your drink as soon as it was put in front of you. 

There was a beat of silence, before a thought that popped into Logan’s mind turned into a question. 

“So, how long have you been at the school?” 

You gave him a glance, tilting your head and trying to think of an answer that made sense.

“Well that depends, do you mean as it is today? Or when it first started?” You found yourself turning towards him more instead of facing the bar.

“Uh, all of it?” 

He took another swig and chuckled at the strangeness of your insistence for elaboration. It was a long and complicated story, but you had to find a simple and short way to explain it.

“Charles found me by cerebro a long time ago, when I was in New York City studying for my history degree,” you took another drink, eyes watching the ice swirl around the bottom of the glass as you tipped it in different directions. “He snatched me up, and a bunch of other mutants, and we saved the world… Which I guess is a typical Tuesday now, but back then it was a big deal for us. The professor had opened the school, but I left right after some of the others did..”

“You left? Why?” His confusion stemmed from what he’s seen. That place was your home, and those people were your family. He doesn’t know why any mutant would want to leave the walls of that mansion, where it was safe.

You shrugged, a bit hesitant to even try and remember what the real reasoning was. “It was the sixties, everyone wanted their own path of freedom. That was the thing back then, wasn't it? Free love, free drugs, free spirits.”

He raised a brow, looking at you with a bit of surprise, which faded just as fast. 

“I keep forgetting how old you are,” he smirked, huffing a small laugh and shaking his head. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were barely an adult.”

You often thought about that. What you would have looked like if you’d been able to grow older. Would your face have thinned out from its girlish fullness? Would you have formed little crows feet at the corners of your eyes? Would you even resemble the same person you’ve looked in the mirror to see for all these years?

“If you want to be technical, I’m physically twenty.”

“Awe, just a baby,” he teased, giving you a slight elbow to the arm. “So is that part of your mutation, then?” 

“No, actually,” you began, throwing back the rest of your drink before explaining further. “The way my body works is like anyone else’s… I have to have energy and sustenance to survive, all that nonsense…”

He’d been very interested to find out about you, since he’d yet to find anything out about himself. Especially since he’d figured your mutation was the reason for your long life span. 

“But since I’m made up of different kinds of energy, matter, antimatter, and a third substance unknown to science yet, I can draw sustenance from things other than food and rest.”

“Like what?” 

You took your little green glove off one hand, and reached for his forearm, which he was currently leaning on against the bar. You focused on doing what you’d done the night that Rogue had injured him, forcing energy into him instead of taking it. 

“You feel that?” 

His eyes got a bit wider, and he watched your hand, there was just the slightest bit of an iridescent glow around his skin where you touched him. It was vague and unnoticeable if you weren’t really looking, and he was. “Yeah…”

“It’s called energy transference. I absorb energy from everything around me, and I can use it to create things… shields, small detonations, and as I recently found out with you, the ability to restore energy from depletion,” you listed, trying to get to the point, but of course, he didn’t understand how it was all connected. 

“And what, it keeps you from aging?” he asked, like it didn’t make any sense, and to be fair, you didn’t really lead with the cause, so you understood his confusion. 

“Not really, no…” you thought back to the day it all happened, so many years ago and yet you’ll never forget it. “When I absorb energy, it sustains me… but when I turned twenty, I was struck by lightning.”

He let out a low whistle, thinking to himself that it was a wild turn of events in your background that he wasn’t expecting. 

“The professor thinks it caused a power surge in my anatomy. Being able to absorb the strike instead of it killing me, my cells were able to store that energy and prevent me from aging.” 

He understood now, blinking a few times as the process settled into his mind. He wonders what else your powers can do, but doesn’t want to keep pushing you on it. 

“Huh,” he looked to the bar for a minute, eyes going over the spot on his arm that still held just the slightest glow of energy without being easily seen. “I don’t really age all that much either…”

“I heard,” you replied, giving him a once over. He was probably one of the most beautiful men you’d ever come across, and knowing that his aging process was also stunted was nearly a blessing in your eyes. 

“I still do, just real slow,” he explained, running a hand through his hair, the kitty ears becoming more prominent when he did. “Guessing by how little I’ve changed in the last fifteen years, I might be close to your age. Maybe a little younger… I just don’t remember.”

His tone falls into a solemness in the end, and you frown at the change in his energy. He’d been having a good time until now, when he started to think about his past, but there was nothing to find. You again reached out for him, taking his hand like you’d grown accustomed to in the past few days. Touching him would never become dull, or feel any less important. You suspected that years from now you would still feel the same tingly and warm sensation from being able to meet his skin to yours.

“You will,” you promised. Even if it takes you a lifetime, you’ll help him find himself. His past, and who he was. 

-

The next day was Sunday, and it went on like the day before… but one thing was different. Two things, technically. 

One, Logan held your hand whenever there was a long distance of walking to be done. Two, his funny and somewhat playful introductions from the day before had been given a small twist. Instead of just saying, ‘I’m Canadian, she’s not,’ there was an added layer of possession. ‘I’m Canadian, my girl isn’t.’

After last night in the bar, something was different. You couldn’t put your finger on what exactly made him switch up his actions around you, and towards you, but it wasn’t in your direct focus. You were much too busy enjoying the sudden change, and the casualness in which it was implemented. 

You wondered if you should ask him about it, but every time you gained an opportunity to do so, you lost the courage. Maybe he was just doing it because it felt normal to be this way with a traveling companion? Maybe he was just putting up a front for the townspeople, so he didn’t have to try so hard to explain the situation between the two of you. 

He’d been so gentle, so domesticated, it felt like he’d grown fully comfortable with you. You’d been the same with him, squeezing his hand whenever he grabbed yours. 

His touch, his words, and more importantly, the look in his eyes whenever he caught you staring… It all led you to believe there was something lurking, just waiting to be let out. 

When you’d returned to the motel that night, giggling about the state of his hair after a tree branch full of snow collapsed on him, he’d rolled his eyes, giving you a playful shove into your own bed while he mumbled about ‘rinsing the pine needles off’ of himself. 

“I’m gonna go down to the Lobby, I wanna call Ororo,” you said, the wide smile still on your face. 

He nodded, not even waiting for you to leave before he started stripping down his clothes. His jacket first, then his flannel. When he was left in the gray beater he wore beneath it all, he stopped for a moment, throwing a glance over his shoulder at you with a smirk. He knew you’d been watching, and he was too big of a tease to tell you to look away, or to remove himself to the bathroom. 

He turned back around, and pulled the thin fabric over his head, throwing it to his pile by the duffel bag. 

He didn’t need to look at you again to know he would catch you staring. He just went about his business as if you weren’t there. Asshole. 

You almost couldn’t breathe. The only person on this entire planet that can touch you, and you got lucky enough that it was Logan. This man was strongly built, and chiseled as if from marble stone. He wasn’t overly muscular or too big, but just enough that you swore God sent him down from the heavens to roam about the earth as his most glorious creation. The way his back muscles tensed when he reached into his bag for a change of clothes, or the way his abs contracted when he stood back upright, it made your hands fidget. You wanted to stand before him and do the one thing you couldn’t do to anyone else. You wanted to touch his gorgeous, warm toned skin. 

When he was about to head to the bathroom, he finally gave you a glance, his smirk even stronger when he read your expression. 

“You gonna go call her or not?” 

“Right,” you blinked, standing up and rushing around to grab your jacket and gloves. 

You’d rushed down to the lobby as fast as your feet could carry you, the stiff breeze doing nothing to quench your excitement. You loaded two quarters into the payphone in the lobby’s hallway, facing away from the stench of the crappy bathrooms nearby. 

You tapped your leg nervously as you told the operator the correct information and waited for Storm to answer. It wasn’t too late, everyone should still be awake. 

The dial went until the second to last before she picked up. 

“Hello?” Her voice sounded like music to your ears. 

“Ro, it’s me,” you said as gently as you could, having to repress your energy. “I just wanted to check in…”

“Check in? Everything is normal here… what about you, have you found the base yet? How’s Logan?” 

Her rushed questions came out when she realized who she was speaking to. She’d waited days for this call, and honestly, you weren’t one to disappoint. 

“We’ve located it, yeah. We’re hiking out there tomorrow,” you explained, leaving out the part where you took a two day joyride through a small Canadian town with the man you’ve deemed is your favorite Canadian. “And Logan’s good. We’ve been having a great time so far.”

“A great time, huh? So I was right to be afraid that I’d never see you again…” she trailed, only partly joking. In truth, she wants you to be happy, but she also wants you to come home. 

“Oh relax, we’ll be back before you know it.”

You heard a muffled yelling, like she’d covered the phone to reprimand some students, before she was back on the line. 

“Well, tell me everything, what’s Canada like? Is it as bad as you remember?” She teased, figuring by the sound of your voice and the smile she could practically hear coming through the phone, that your opinion had been swayed. 

“Canada itself is fine, but Logan is something else entirely,” you raised a brow, leaning into the phone panel on the wall and twisting the cord in your fingers like a love-struck schoolgirl. “Did you know he was Canadian?”

“I thought he might be, wasn't sure.”

“Well, I take back hating Canada, he’s actually made me like it…” you trailed, fighting yet another wide smile from only thoughts of today. “He’s made me like him… a lot.”

“Baby, it’s only been four days,” she laughed on the other end. You could tell she was debating knocking sense into you, or asking for details. The latter won in the end. “So did he kiss you, or what?” 

“No, he hasn’t kissed me,” you said with a sigh, wishing the statement hadn’t been true. “But he’s been so… different. He holds my hand, he hugs me when I’m cold… he’s been introducing me to everyone we talk to as ‘his girl’.” 

“So what I’m hearing is, I need to be making wedding preparations for when you get back?” She huffed out another laugh, hand on her hip as she leaned into a wall in the mansion. She knew this was going to happen. You got attached to people very easily, but Logan was an entirely different can of worms. He could touch you, he could hold you, and he could be with you in ways no one else would ever be able to. That made him your ideal attachment. If you believed in soulmates, you’d say he was yours. Uniquely created with a mutation that matched your own in the opposite form. 

“See, you think that’s funny,” you laughed along with her through the phone, titling your head and speaking with confidence. “But I’m absolutely gonna marry him someday.”

She rolled her eyes, and you could almost hear it through the phone. “As crazy as you sound, I believe you… but give it more than four days to be sure, yeah?”

“Fine… I’ll give it till the end of the trip,” you taunted. You knew it was crazy to be making these bets now, but you were just so certain that this man would be your endgame. He was the only one who could be… right? 

“That’s all I can ask for from you… Just be safe, and tell him I said hi, okay?” She quickly tried to get off the phone, and you could hear the rowdy children making a ruckus in the background of where she was. 

“I will… tell everyone there that I miss them, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Will do, bye baby…” she rushed out her goodbye before the line went dead. 

You smiled, mumbling a small ‘bye’ under your breath as you hung up the phone and headed back for the room. 

The room was a bit steamy when you first walked in, with the bathroom door having been left open to air out. Logan was reclined in the bed furthest to the wall, nothing but flannel bottoms on while he was kicked back and relaxed. He had one arm behind his head, and his other perched at his side to hold up a book in his hand. Your book… the one you’d finished last night. 

“Hey,” he smiled at you as you walked through the door. “Sorry I didn’t ask, it looks interesting.”

You furrowed your brow with your own surprised smile, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay… I think you’ll like it.”

“So far I do… I promise I’ll be careful with it, I know it’s old,” he defended yet again, even though you would give him that precious copy if it made him happy. 

“It’s fine, what’s mine is yours,” you kept on, laying your coat on the back of a chair for the night. “Besides, you can’t do anymore damage to it that I haven’t already done.”

“I noticed you dogear the pages…” he raised a brow in your direction, as if accusing you of something. 

“I know, it’s terrible…” you trailed, sitting on the edge of his bed and watching him for a moment. He went back to the book, completely engrossed in what was probably still the first chapter. “What part are you on?” 

“Burn ‘em to ashes, then burn the ashes,” he remarked, and you nodded. He seemed to be pretty hooked on only the first few pages. “You were right, y’know? About comparin’ this kinda future to ours. It’s nasty stuff…”

“It only gets worse, keep reading.”

You got up, grabbing your clothes and heading for a shower. He had been considerate enough to save plenty of hot water for you.

-

The weekend was over, and unfortunately it was time to go where this entire journey was meant to lead. Stryker’s base. 

The ride to the bridge was silent, but the second you arrived, Logan turned to you with a look of sincerity. 

“Look, I know that you’re doing this for me,” he began, bringing a hand to your arm in the most gentle way possible. “But if you start feelin’ like you did the other day… I have no problem going in on my own, alright?”

“I’ll be okay, Logan. You’re here with me,” you reminded him, placing your hand over his and giving it a squeeze. “Let’s go…”

He nodded, letting you take the lead, because as was made clear before the trip even began, you were the one who remembered this place, and he was the one trying to regain those memories. 

“When did you come here?” He asked, and it was an innocent question except for the implications.

“I didn't come here, I was taken. I'd just passed the bar exam back in New York, and I was gonna be a lawyer for a while, but Stryker got to me first,” You explained, not taking offense to his wording. You’d known he was a little brash with the things he said, but he could also be gentle and sweet.

“How long were you here?” His voice softened this time.

“About six years, got here near the start of the program, lived to the end of it.”

“And what about me?” He’d begun walking side by wide with you, not straggling behind like before. His curiosity wasn’t the only reason for his questioning, but it was a factor. He mostly just wanted to keep you distracted from looming amongst your own thoughts in silence, getting closer and closer to the base. 

“You came towards the end, but he was planning to have you for years. That mutant I told you about, the one who melted the adamantium? They had her powering the machine long before you even came to the island.”

Your explanation caught him off guard a bit. When he’d asked if you came here, you said you were taken, but now you told him he had come… meaning he made the decision to do it.

“And I… came willingly?” He titled his head with furrowed brows, unsure why anyone would want to come to this place, if it was as bad as you say.

“From what I understand, you did at first. I think you ran away when you knew of Stryker's plans,” You reasoned, not completely remembering everything. Not that you were even apart of those dealings in the first place.

“Did I meet you then?”

You smiled and shook your head. You’d wished you’d been able to catch a glimpse of him the first time, what he’d been like before Stryker tortured him and turned him into a piece of metal.

“No, I never met you the first time. But I could feel you,” you tried your best to describe, nearly failing for how little you could actually say instead of showing him.

He seemed to understand it enough, remembering the way your powers work. He came to a halt beside you, giving you a look and asking the next question. “How did I feel?”

You stopped, too. You looked at his eyes now, and they seemed so full of something you couldn’t explain, but couldn’t look away from, either.

“Sad… Angry.”

“And now?” He asked, a serene expression on his features when he was looking at you.

“You’re still tense, but your emotions are softer, calmer.” You raised a hand to his face, trailing slightly over the facial hair that had slightly grown out the last few days. It suited him, you thought.

After a few moments, you felt a shiver run down your spine from the cold, and snapped out of your daze, continuing on the path ahead, and leading him through an old abandoned tunnel. This tunnel was not full of bad memories, but a rather fond one. The day you had escaped, you followed Scott through this tunnel to meet the Professor on the other side.

He seemed to be taking everything in, noting every intricate detail of the place to try and place it. Nothing sprung from the back of his mind, so he doesn’t know if anything significant enough happened here that he might have a cognitive reset, but he keeps trying, going through each stretch of the base like something might pop up.

You froze still when you got to the edge of the cell block. The cages were just as he’d left them, completely and utterly destroyed by his claws. 

“This is it, huh?” He stood still, too. The weight of the area was easy to feel, and though he didn’t know why, he could almost sense the years of heaviness that was caused here. It was haunting.

“This is it,” you huffed, taking a step forward and treating it like you would any other place you visited. It’s just bricks and concrete and steel, it’s not like it should affect you this way. “The cell on the end is mine, the one three or four down was Scott’s.”

There were motion sensors everywhere. Long since forgotten about, and none were activated, but he could also see the security measures, and some of the poking and prodigy tools they must have used just scattered about. The leftover scenery of a hasty escape, by both the mutants and the inhabitants of this place.

“How did you even survive this?” He asked, the weight settling in on his shoulders even more, pushing him into the floor. 

“Most of us didn't. This entire block had new mutants every year. All except me,” you sighed out, running your fingers over the enclosure that you’d been contained in for so long. It was in the past now, and you stood beside the very testament to your escape. The man who freed you and had given you hope. Nothing bad could happen to you here as long as he was with you, now.

“Because you can't die...” He trailed, a single finger of his looming over the exposed skin of your neck. With him being so close, this little action almost seemed normal, but the cold weather made his hands cold, too, and the feeling of it caused a shiver. You stepped away with a shudder under your breath, but turned around and got close enough again to keep the energy from feeling awkward. No matter how cold his hands were, you still liked when he touched you.

“I wanted to. This was the worst part of my life. I never wanted to come back here.”

“Then why did you?” He crossed his arms, leaning against the cell block and leaning in. He knew the answer, or at least he thought he did. Charles made him clearly aware, not that he didn’t know already. 

“I wanna help you,” you looked down, too scared to meet his eyes and say something else besides what you wanted him to hear. “You saved me from this place, the least I can do is help you remember it.”

He nodded, thinking that maybe he was pushing too hard. Maybe he just needed to focus on himself… but something about this place, it made him feel that strange connection to you again. The one that he didn’t think he felt back at X-Manor. 

He took a few steps towards the frozen doors at the end of the block, likely leading into other parts of the base that were inaccessible. 

“How did it happen?” He turned back, wielding a small smirk.

“What?” you furrowed your brows, unsure of what exactly he meant.

“The rescue, how did it happen? Was I heroic?” He posed jokingly, hands on his hips to draw out a laugh from you, and it worked. Even in this place you were scared of, he could make you feel joy. 

“Yeah, you were…” you closed the distance between you, pushing him into position by the doors to reenact the scene. “It was pretty late at night, the sirens started going off, we all started panicking, we thought we were getting attacked or something. Most of us were weak, and could barely stand. My legs were likely broken and definitely cut apart from the tests they'd been doing… We thought it was the end. And then you came charging down the cellblock with this woman,” you sat back into your cell, feeling no semblance of fear from it now. He ran down to your cell with a cheesy grin, playing along for your amusement. “You both started to set everyone free. But you were the one who tore open my cage, and without thinking, I let you help me up…” you trailed, watching as per your story, he reached in and helped you to your feet just like he had done all those years ago. “That was the first time I touched you.”

You kept your hand in his, the tingling sensation still remaining, even though you’ve probably touched him a hundred times by now. 

“Wow… that uh… doesn’t sound like me…” he looked away from you, his hand pulling back and hanging it at his side. He’d broken the charade to think about how inaccurate this all sounded. Even though you were not a liar, and he could take your word for it, he just couldn’t seem to think of himself how you did. “Guess it's just a lot to take in..”

You’d painted him in such a heroic light, he wasn’t sure that heroic was a word that fit him very well, much less at all. All he knew of himself was a selfish loner, who occasionally did the right thing out of obligation and not duty.

“It is… take your time,” you tried your best to reel in the happiness you’d felt, because even though being here with him made you feel better… he was trying to remember himself, and maybe this wasn’t helping. 

“And the woman I was with, did you know her?” 

You hoped he wouldn’t ask about her, you didn’t want to disappoint him.

“I don't remember. She looked familiar, but I couldn't tell you who she was,” you think you saw her with Stryker a few times, but never by his side, always behind him, following orders. “She died not long after the breakout, the professor found her after he’d come back for the remaining survivors...”

He seemed deep in thought, facing the doors of the cellblock again and clenching his fists… was he remembering something?

“And I was with her, this woman?” the way he said it implied the depth of what he was really asking.

“From what I gathered at the time, yeah… but I wasn't in the best condition, so I could have just made it all up in my head. I definitely remember you, though.”

At this he turned back to face you, coming closer and lifting his lips in the very corners to resemble a not quite smile. It still turned your stomach in the best way.

“I'm just unforgettable, huh?” 

“Completely unforgettable. This is a part of my life that I have worked hard and trained myself to forget, but I remembered you instantly…” you confessed, not daring to look away from him now, when he was so clearly latched onto you. It didn’t matter what you said at this point, you were sure he must have known something of your feelings by now.

“Because I could touch you.”

You shook your head. “It was more than that. I'd never seen anything like you before.”

“Is that a good thing?” He teased, his full smile finally returning once the air felt lighter again.

You thought about that day. He’d come running through like a true action hero, saving everyone in his path. He had been here for something else entirely, you think, but he stopped to save you and the others. He’d been wearing a white beater that night, his shoulders glistening with sweat while his hair bounced with every step he took. It was longer then. The determined look in his eyes was something you also noticed, and the way they softened when he steadied you to your feet, touching your skin as no one had for over two hundred years. Yes, seeing him was a very good thing.

“Oh yeah, trust me.”

-

Having searched for other abandoned entry points of the base, and being unsuccessful, you opted to leave, but it had grown dark out, and there was no way you could hike all the way back to the motorcycle before the cold winds set in. It was too dark to even navigate the grounds, anyways. 

It was decided that you could set up a makeshift camp within the escape tunnel, as it was just slightly warmer than the outside. 

Logan didn’t talk much after leaving the base. He’d been all fun and games until he realized you both had finally made it to the place with the answers, but there were none. He didn’t take his frustrations out on you, but he didn’t exactly ignore them, either. In fact, he took to ignoring you instead. You tried striking up a conversation with him, and found he was in too sour a mood, and every comment you made about little things, like the sleeping bag in your backpack, or the water flask kept in his, he seemed to just grunt out a response to get back to the quiet. 

It wasn’t until the dead cold of the night that you’d been shivering your ass off, that you even dared to speak to him again. 

“This storm's getting worse… I'm gonna freeze to death.” 

He rolled over from his sleeping bag on the ground, a slanted brow on his face and a huff when he saw that you were truly cold. He was not in a good mood, and he didn’t want to deal with more bad situations.

“I thought you couldn’t die…” he grumbled, leaning up on one arm. You were curled up into a ball, all your layers on your body and the sleeping bag, but the snow was falling hard and fast outside, probably sealing you both into this icy tunnel. 

“I can't be killed. I can still technically die,” you explained, furthering the lore on your powers. He mentally added it to the list. Almost immortal, but not really so much in snowstorms.

“Then why are you still alive?” He mumbled sarcastically, trying not to be an asshole to the only person he was dependent on the past few days. 

“Because I'm careful.”

You sat up, and in the dim light he could see how pale you’d gotten, your lips a shade of cold purple instead of the soft pink they normally held.

“Aren't you made of energy? Just warm yourself up…” He suggested, as if you hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t even in your ability wheel.

“I'm made of matter and antimatter, I don't radiate heat,” you argued, trying to maintain a sense of calm while being cold enough to power a refrigerator. 

“Fine, you know what? I'm not walking you back to the bike, just get over here,” he let out, holding open the sleeping bag for you to scoot into. You’d done so as quickly as possible, letting him drop his arm back over you in an instant. Already you could feel the fiery feeling he gave off into the air. 

“How are you so warm?”

“I don't know,” he shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to go to sleep. He wanted to be up with the sun tomorrow, so he could get back to the motel and get some quality rest.

“You don’t know why you feel like a toaster?” You joked with a sweet smile, but were quickly reminded he wasn’t in the mood.

“Do you ever stop talking?” 

“Sorry.”

In truth, he did feel bad about treating you like that. You’d done so much for him, and all he’d done was snap at you when he realized the answers he was looking for were still locked up. He pulled you tighter in his arms, holding you close as if uttering a physical apology. I’m sorry for being a dick, but thank you for being so kind to me anyways.

-

Having found warmth in you, and another feeling that cannot be described outside of perhaps the simple word: safety, Logan slept better than he had in weeks, months, even. Hell, he doesn’t know if he’s ever slept like this, waking up naturally, well rested and without a nightmare in sight. 

It was late in the afternoon, and he woke up feeling a sense of peace that he didn’t go to bed with. He’d been settled. His anger and annoyance about the failed objective made his skin crawl when the snow had been pouring down, the storm covering the ground with several inches of a white, fluffy covering. 

Knowing it had been very late in the night when you finally were able to sleep, he didn’t want to wake you, but being wrapped around you like a cocoon while you slept would make it very hard to even sit up without causing you to stir. 

He figured he could wake you up, now, take you back to the motel so you could finish resting while he took a walk, or visited the bar. It had approached his mind the night before, that he would probably go and get wasted at the establishment to try and fill the void that had been left empty by the lack of answers. 

Slowly, he unraveled the twisted limbs and sleeping bags, hearing your soft grumbling of discomfort when you came to. You weren’t fully awake, and your arms grabbed at him, trying to pull him back in subconsciously while your moaning and groaning persisted. He let out a small chuckle at the actions, like that of a child grabbing for the security of its mother. 

“Rise and shine, princess,” He joked, trying to maneuver himself away. 

You finally remembered where you were, and realized that Logan was the source of warmth that had been keeping you so still and secure. 

“Hey,” you let out with a furrowed brow, wiping over your eyes to try and dull the ache of opening them too soon. “What time is it?” 

“Not sure, it might be noon,” he guessed, standing on his feet and beginning to collect everything that was still scattered about on the ground of the tunnel. 

You were silent for a minute, nodding your head and beginning to become more coherent with every minute passed. You soon joined him on collecting things that needed packing away, but did so with a sentiment passed along. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t find anything here,” you murmured quietly. 

He almost had to do a double take… Why were you apologizing? You’d done him a great service by coming here to try and help him, no matter the results. 

“S’not your fault,” he furrowed his brow in response. “I’m sorry for treating you like shit last night. Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean I have to take it out on you.”

“Don’t be sorry. If I was in your place I’d be angry, too.”

The way you looked at him was astonishing. Like he’d hung every star in the sky. You looked at him and he felt like no matter the atrocities he knows he’s capable of, and the memories he can’t reach, he could do no wrong. Nothing he ever did was bad in your eyes. It was an empowering feeling, but also a curious one. You are far greater of a person than he is, and he knows it… so why do you look at him like this?

The answer is simple, you’re in love with him. He’s the first person you can touch, which is a huge factor, but aside from that, he is kind to you, and genuinely, not just because he has to be.

He remembers what Charles told him before he left. Ask her about a man named Charlie…

“I uh…” he trailed, watching you where you sat, packing away your water flask and flashlight. “I had a talk with the professor before we left a few days ago.”

“About what?” 

“About you, mostly. He told me I was in safe hands,” among other things, but he wouldn’t mention that. “And he told me that when you were ready I could ask you about a man…”

“A man?” You raised your brows in surprise. You weren’t sure if you knew what you were supposed to tell him. 

“Yeah, a man… his name was Charlie?” 

He could see it, the instant the name left his lips. Your face fell and your brain had to work overtime to try and return it to something neutral, and less traumatized. Your silence made him think that maybe he crossed a line. If you hadn’t been ready to talk about this man, then he’d just made a huge mistake. He doesn’t know who this fellow is, but he clearly did something to you. 

“Are you alright?” Logan knelt down, interrupting your blank stare. He could see the memories flashing behind your eyes, the thoughts winding up in your head.

“Yes,” you shook out of it, but your smile didn’t come back. “I’ve been around people that know about him for a long time, I didn’t think I’d ever have to retell the story.”

“You don’t have to,” he shook his head, a hand raising to your arm to try and bring comfort. “I assume it’s a sad story?”

“The worst one I know…” you trailed, finally giving a small quirk of your lip in a smile. Looking at Logan for too long made it impossible to scowl forever. “It’s been a hundred and thirty some years just about.”

He whistled long and low, sitting down across from you to fully pay attention. 

“I started working in a farm house in Virginia in the Eighteen Sixties. I kept to myself as best I could, making beds, doing laundry, washing dishes. Best paying job I’d ever had so I stayed as long as I could…” you trailed, taking a deep breath to introduce the main character of this story. “There was a stable boy there, worked the farm for the family for years before he got promoted to caring for the horses. I hadn’t met him until about two months of being there.”

“He’s Charlie?” Logan lifted a brow inquisitively, fully engrossed in the history you were sharing. You nodded your head to confirm. 

“He’s Charlie. He was only nineteen years old…  he was the only person that I’d barely ever talked to that grew fond of me. I didn’t even have to do anything,” you joked, dipping your head and remembering the way it all went back then. “He used to volunteer to help me hang laundry just so we could talk.”

“Classy guy,” Logan teased, watching your face light up with the way you were recalling everything.

“He was, and so gentlemanly… The day he found out about me being what I am, it was a complete accident. Long story short, I killed a chicken. He took the blame for it, and at the end of the day, the family ate it for dinner.”

“He knew about you?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, another smile spreading. “He didn’t care. He’d never touched me before, and knowing that he never could… he still didn’t care.”

You sighed, the bliss of the memory fading from view when the next part resurfaced. 

“I fell in love with him, and eventually he asked me to marry him. Obviously, I said yes,” you paused for a moment, heaving a sigh as tears backed your eyes. “The day we left for town to get married, there was an accident… Some drunk men with a gun were messing around like assholes, and one thing led to another. They started firing off rounds in our direction, and I knew I could block the bullets, but I hadn’t told Charlie that. He tried to save me, tried to pull me out of the way…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence, but Logan already knew. 

“You touched him…” he filled in the blank, watching you blink away the tears that started to fall. Your silent and weak nod was heartbreaking, and in under two seconds flat, Logan had his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him to feel comforted. He was the only one who could do this, and after hearing your story of a lost love, he knew how much it meant. 

He is grateful to you and owes you a lot. Being your shoulder to cry on is the least he can do in a situation like this, where you seemed like you just needed someone to hold onto. 

“It’s been a long time,” you mumbled, sniffing to try and block more tears from falling. Being in Logan’s embrace made it better. “I thought he was the love of my life… but I’ve lived so much of my life now without him.”

“I’m sorry,” he ran a hand over your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

“I just wish he'd been something like you…” 

“Something like me?” He asked, unsure of what you could mean. The way you described him, he seemed perfect. A gentleman, a protector, someone who loved you so much that he was willing to go through life without the most basic of relationship necessities. He didn’t feel like he could compare.

“Immune to my mutation.”

Your clarification made him understand, and maybe he shouldn’t have uttered his next words, but he did, fully knowing the answer.

“I’m guessing no one else has been,” he let out, beginning to loosen his hold on you. 

You’d backed away and looked him in the eyes with your teary, puffy red ones. 

“So far, only you.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds lonely.” His embrace didn’t leave, but he dropped your gaze for a moment to try and think about what that must be like. To not only be without that kind of comfort, but to constantly have to avoid it at all costs. 

“S’not so bad anymore. You’re pretty decent company, and you don’t seem to hate being around me... I’d say I lucked out.” You leaned back into his arms, laying your head on his shoulder this time as you took a deep inhale. The scent of him was intoxicating, and the way he was constantly warm felt like an invitation in itself. 

He didn’t move you, or make you go anywhere. He knew that if he’d been stuck here for days that it would have to be endured for your sake. After hearing of the tragedy in your past, he felt you deserved to sit here in silence, safely and securely wrapped in his strong arms.

-

Tags: @ayamenimthiriel l @levislegislation @reidsworld @melsunshine @clairealeehelsing @fries11 @burkayyy @d3ad2you @insanesosciopath @scream4mami @marifilue

[shadow0214]

I've been reading some fanfics with Noa and I love them, so I thought I'd give it a go. It's my first time writing so...don't judge me to hard.

Noa × human OC

Belonging

Always the same thing around the 'bunker', no one told you the things that were happening, you hated that. You felt like they still treated you like a little child even though you were in your twenties already.

"Yes, didn't you know? We're going on an excursion." Samantha said to me while I was drying the dishes after dinner.

"Of course, I didn't, nobody tells me anything around here. It's annoying" You muttered

You were the best tracker they had, you loved being outside, learning the ways of nature, and still nobody ever took you into account when expeditions like this happened.

"Hey, that's enough Sam." A voice said entering the kitchen. "Don't listen to her, she's just trying to get on your nerves"

You looked back and smiled at the comment. Lila always knew how to calm things down.

"Why don't you speak with Anna? Maybe she'll let you go this time." Lila said

"Yes, like every other time I asked her" You scoffed and shook your head.

"C'mon, I'll go with you." Lila pushed

"I don't even own a horse yet." You said

"Well...that's your own fault, Envy could've been yours, you just gave her away to Kiara". Lila reminded you.

Kiara, the daughter of a couple that was part of the council, the leaders of your group. She was like a little sister to you ever since you met her. You had no family, your dad died on an expedition, most say apes killed him, and your mother died soon after she gave birth to you. Medicine was scarce and trying to make it from scratch was hard, not impossible since you had a lab in the facility but still, sometimes the main components were just to available.

Most expeditions could last for months, trying to find more humans, more medicine, or even mark places where apes had their homes so no one would go near. You had the firearms, but not the manpower to fight them alone.

You never understood the hate your kind had towards the apes, yes, they were now more and had claimed a lot of the land humans once ruled, but they had also healed the land. No humans meant trees and animals were free to repossess what was once theirs, and apes were not using human machines that harm the earth, so everything had regained its balance in a way. Since you were little, you went out of the bunker with a horse, you learned how to fish, how to hunt, how to track and look for things outside, you never understood why you felt more connected to nature than to your own people. 'They never understood' you'd think. ‘They will never see the world as I see it'.

Anyway, all of that wasn't going to change, so you had to take what was given to you and make the most out of it. Lila and you went to Ana, she was distracted with the preparations for the expedition. This time, from what Lila had told you, they were going to look for more survivors and other bunkers to see if those had more medicine.

"Ana, mind if we talk to you for a moment?" Lila asked

"What? Yeah, sure. What's up?" Ana said absent-mindedly while she tripled checked the supplies. It looked like they were going for some months at least.

Lila looked at you and pushed you softly, and nodded at you when you looked back. You took a deep breath and spoke.

"So...Ana, I heard about the expedition and I wanted to know why you hadn’t called for me? You know I'm one of the best people to take in things like that. I can survive pretty well on my own while I'm outside."

Ana sighed and stopped what she was doing.

"Y/N, you know the reason, I need you here, protecting everyone else" She said while putting her hands on your shoulders

"No one ever comes close to this place since we put the electric fence around! Let me go!"

"Y/N" Lila spat at me. "Careful with your words!"

I just stared at her with anger.

"You have absolutely no good reason to not let me go. Please, I can really help if something goes wrong!"

Ana didn't have a comeback for that, she knew what you were saying was right, she knew how helpfull you could be, and still the promise she had made to your mother drilled into her head could not allow you to go with them. You were already in your twenties, now there was no good excuse to tell you to stay and Ana knew this. She sighed again and with a very sad tone agreed to your request. You were going with them, and that was that.

----------‐-----------------

-The next morning-

Ana and Aaron, parents of Kiara, were the ones in charge of this expedition. Samantha, Lila, Carlos, Seth (Samantha's uncle), and you were the rest of the group.

You went to get your stuff ready on Envy, the mare that was meant to be yours, but for some reason you had decided to give her to Kiara, still, she thought of Envy as a shared horse more than her own. Kiar knew how much you loved her, and she didn't mind giving her to you in times like this.

"Take care of each other, ride safely." Kiara said with a smile on her face while petting the side of the mare.

"We will, sis, we'll be back before you know it. Anything special you want me to look for?"

Kiara shook her head. " I just need you to come back to me, that's it."

"Aaww dear, of course I will." You said hugging little Kiara.

You loved her, she was the only one that understood you and never judged you. One day you were going to take her exploring with you, so you could show her everything you loved.

Two weeks passed. Everyone was a little on edge since the news of contact had gotten to you. Apparently, a week ago the satellites started working again and your walkie-talkies that you carried mostly just to feel like you were connected somehow started working again. The people on the bunker told Ana and Aaron that a girl, similar age to you and Lila, had found the missing piece to get satellite connection back on. We knew about the bunker on the east but we had little contact with them and the nomads that were looking for ways to communicate with each other had been murder by a big group of apes, but apparently one of the girls of the nomad group had survived and, with the help of some apes, was able to get to where the main computers where locked and retrieve de disc.

This news had everyone in our group freaked out, it had been a long time since we had been able to communicate over long distances. Some were happy about it, they were thinking that this way we were going to able to rebuilt what was ours, but others were weary of what other humans wanted. 'Humans are selfish and will do anything to get power' Others thought.

Our group tried to maintain calm during all this, we still had to find supplies and medicine that was not going to arrive even if we had connection with other humans. More people meant more food, more space needed and more medicine that we did not have to spare.

At night everyone was silently eating what you had hunted for the day. You were pretty good at using different weapons, but your favorite was the bow and arrow, you almost never missed unless you wanted to. The others had guns, and some knives with them, but most of them knew that using guns out hear meant that everything in a 1km radius or more could hear and pinpoint our location.

"We could've been eating earlier if we had used my gun, I never miss" Samantha spoke showing a cocky grin to you.

You just rolled your eyes at her.

"If we had done your way, every single ape around here would've come looking for us." Seth said calmingly.

Samantha hated it when he agreed with your methods, and you knew it; in a way, it made you proud when he did. He would always be om Samantha's side and agree with her, he never liked agreeing with you, but sometimes he just had to.

"You should be thanking Y/N for her quick thinking. Otherwise, we would've had to eat the dried-up food we brought, and I don't think anybody wanted more of that" Ana said laughing at the end. The rest of the group followed making faces of disgust and laughing at the comment of our leader.

"How long until we get to the big buildings?" Lila asked when everyone had calmed down

"Sadly, I think we'll have to go back. Ana and I have been thinking about it and it's better to be with everyone else at the moment." Aaron answered

"Uncertain times call for unity." Ana added

Seth nodded and kept eating.

You were thinking. The group needed medicine, and other things...maybe a tiny group could keep pushing forward while the adults went back.

"And what if some of us stayed? You said it yourself Aaron, we are a week away from the buildings and we need everything we can find over there. A small group will not be noticed as easily as all of us" you said.

You had a point, and they knew it. After some discussion, the leaders agreed, Lila and you could keep going, the rest was to go back with them. Samantha was going to disagree, but she knew better than to stay with you two. Lila and you were inseparable, and Samantha would only be outnumbered in any decision you made.

The next morning everyone gave you half of their rations for food since you two were going to need them more than them, and then they set off for the bunker.

Lila and you waved at them, and then kept going.

For some time, it was quiet between you two, but Lila was not going to let that be.

"Sooo, wanna race?" Lila said with a sparkle in her eyes.

You knew what that meant. The idea was in her mind, now you could only accept the challenge.

"I mean...It's kind of unfair. Char is not meant for sprinting" you said with a grin.

"And Envy is?" Lila replied

"Oh, I know she's faster that Char." You said, knowing full well that she was fast in short distances and Lila was thinking more of a long-distance race.

"Well, then start! See you at the end!" Lila said kicking softly the side of her mare that sprinted away.

"Hey no fair!" You yelled doing the same with Envy.

You passed trees and creeks so fast you felt like you were going to fall off the horse. Impressively you were just behind Lila and Char, who was galloping with all her might.

You were so enthralled by how fast Char was going that you barely missed a branch that could've hit you down.

Eventually Lila made Char stop. You kept going, but Lila screamed at you to stop.

"What? I thought we were going to end?" You said out of breath riding back to where they were.

"Look up" She said, almost like a whisper.

You did and saw tall buildings in front of you all covered in vines and trees. The trees had broken some of the sediments of the building but were also holding them up. Most of them were broken, and some had collapsed, probably by the sheer size of them.

"Wow, they are amazing" Lila said.

There were rows of them, all conquered back by nature itself. It was beautiful to see how two completely opposite things could come together to create art. All green and grey together forming structures that you had never seen before.

You were both still gawking at the immensity of the buildings when you heard a noise up in the sky. Eagles, huge and magnificent eagles. You had seen some flying around on your own little excursions, but now they were closer than ever.

"Should we follow them?" Lila whispered, this was unknown territory to her, this was more your area of interest.

"Mmm maybe for a while just to see where they take us." You said firmly. " We can also walk and get in some of these buildings to see if we find something" You added.

Lila nodded and dismounted Char, you followed suit. Both of you took the reins of each mare and pulled gently so they kept up with the pace you set.

Three days you walked and searched for supplies with no luck. You tried entering every building you could, but some of them where to destroy to even walk on the floor. Others had entrances that were too high for either of you to climb, and if you did climb the hard part later was going down.

"Thank goodness you came prepared, Y/N." Lila said, struggling while climbing down a rope.

"Don't mention it, just keep going we're almost at the bottom" You said short of breath. You were no stranger to climbing but doing it almost every day for 3 days was taking its toll on you.

Lila let go of the rope and landed on the ground huffing.

"We can't keep doing this, Y/N. It's too tiring. We aren't apes to be climbing around without a care in the world!"

"I know I know, but we've found some good stuff nonetheless" You said as you stretched out after jumping off the rope, you went back and pulled the rope 2 times so it could fall off the makeshift hook you had made to tie it up.

"Some expired painkillers and a bunch of gardening tools is NOT good stuff!"

Lila sighed, even though you’d a nice time sharing this little adventure together you were starting to feel hopeless. Maybe it was time to go back, maybe the others had gotten supplies from the other camp, and you were doing nothing out here but waste time.

"Lila…you can go you know?" You said softly cleaning some arrows that you had used to hunt rabbits earlier.

"What? And leave you here?? Are you insane?!"

"No… I just feel like my time here is not over yet. Yours though…"

"Nu uh, I'm not leaving you alone, we don't even know where exactly we are."

"It's my decision Lila"

"Bullshit! I know you love nature and such, but everyone is waiting for us!"

"Everyone?" You said lowering your head.

Lila didn't answer, she knew that most of the people treated you like an outsider. No one ever told her why, the only reason she could think of wad that you had no family left alive, but that was a cruel way of treating your own kind.

"Fine, I'll take what we found back. What do you expect me to say to the rest when you don't arrive with me huh?" Lila asked

"You tell them half the truth, that I simply didn't want to come back"

"That's the 'half-truth' to you?"

"Ok ok," you said rolling your eyes. " Tell them you begged me to go back, and I said I would keep looking for stuff for a couple more days, then you never met again with me"

"Mmm, alright. So, you got killed?"

"What?! No! Idiot" You said pushing her playfully. Lila just chuckled.

"I'm gonna miss you (Y/nickname)." Lila sniffled while hugging you.

You hugged her back with some tears in your eyes.

"I'll be back before you know it, I promise"

Lila waved goodbye to you while riding Char out of the jungle of buildings, you waved back until you couldn't see her anymore.

After that you kept searching for anything really for a couple of days, until one day the promises you had made to Lila and Kiara were going to be broken.

–----------------------------------------

One day while you were scavenging around in a building you heard noises, noises you hadn't heard before. You took Envy and hid her next to some bushes at the side of a building and tried to keep her relaxed.

As the noise came closer it became clearer: apes.

You never really had contact with them since you were always cradled inside the bunker. The only experience you had was the stories people would tell you, but once you started growing up you stopped believing everything the adults told you.

You were a little apprehensive about the situation at hand but as long as Envy obeyed you, you were sure the apes would pass as quickly as they came.

"You only try to show off when climbing, the other things you just avoid!" A female voice said

"Not true! Anaya never avoids challenges, right Noa?" A male voiced reply

'Anaya and Noa' you made a mental note of the names, not sure why. You heard them walking away so you went out of your hiding place little by little, looking around you just in case you needed to hide from them.

From where you were you could see 3 apes; one had an armband different than the other two. You felt bad spying on them, but your curiosity got the best of you. You kept listening in the conversation, but you also noticed they would sign sometimes and that got lost in translation. The only signs you knew were tactical warfare signs that Aaron had thaught you when you were learning about weapons with Lila and Samantha.

"Soona is right, Anaya always showing off then running away when something goes wrong" The third one spoke, another male. After that the three started making a noise that you could only compare to laugh.

"I'll show you, climb to top to see sunset. First one wins!" The other male said running in all fours and starting to climb the building in front of you with ease.

"Anaya wait!" The female voice shouted but followed right behind him.

The other male chuckled and followed his friends up the building.

You were mesmerized by how athletic and big they were, but something inside you also wanted to follow them so you could see at least one sunset. The past days you've had missed all of them because of the tall canopy, but not today. The renewed strength gave you confidence that you could climb to the top of the building you were hiding behind.

You took your trusty rope and, your bow and some arrows just in case they attacked you and started climbing up. The building that you had chosen was in pretty good state, it still had most of its stairs and you didn't have to jump too far from one part of some broken stairs to another, which would also be handy when climbing down.

About 3 floors from getting to the top, you encountered the biggest problem: no more stairs. They were all broken or looked very unstable, your best option to climb up was the outside of the building. The design made it look like a stair, and if you went a little bit over the edge that was keeping you from falling you could see a metal hook thingy in which you could tie a rope to climb down.

First you made a knot at the end of the rope with just enough space to insert it in the hook, after that you threw that end of the rope with just enough strength to get it to where you needed it. It took you 3 attempts, but eventually you made it and started climbing the rope. Your hands were already tired from days before, but the view would make it all worth it.

Eventually when you were halfway through something made a weird noise. At first you didn't pay much attention to it but then y sounded again and this time you felt the rope moving. The hook couldn't withstand your weight anymore, and you could feel it just pulling down.

You tried to keep taking deep breaths but that was not working, they were faster than before.

*crack*

You looked up and saw the rope sliding off the hook even farther than before, that was when you started panicking. Your breathing wasn't steady anymore and now you were seconds away from falling from the almost top of the building.

A piece of the building where the hook was gave up and you let go of the rope for milliseconds and eventually grabbed the rope but it burned because of the friction, and you screamed in pain.

Noa and his friends, who were happily watching the sunset, looked at each other when you screamed. The three of them looked around for the thing that had made such a horrible sound but couldn't see anything.

You tried climbing up again, but now your hands were bloody from the fall, and you were slipping from the rope. You were in agony.

"Please, not like this, I can't die like this" You said to yourself trying to reassure yourself that you were not going to die.

That's when Noa heard you and looked over the building, he signaled his friends to jump to the other building.

"She will die if we don't help," Soona said with worry.

" What do we do?" Anaya asked Noa.

Noa went to were the rope was tied.

"Please don't kill me!" You shouted, looking up seeing one of the apes.

Noa frowned his face but kept trying to pull you up.

You understood then he was trying to help, but you knew the extra weight on the now unstable floor was not going to help.

"No, let go! You'll make it worse!" You tried to explain with tears rolling down your face. You couldn't stand the pain anymore.

Eventually the rope itself started tearing up, you were about 15 meters from the ground, you knew it was unlikely to survive that fall, your only hope was now with the 3 apes that were trying to help.

You saw the male ape trying, again, to pull you up, but it was useless with the rope tearing, and that's when it happened.

The rope tore apart, and you started to fall, your only hope for surviving was the trees below you would cushion your fall enough for you not to die. The only thing you were able to come up with was using your left arm to cover your neck as best you could.

Silence. Silence followed after your fall. Anaya was the first one to get to you and he poked you with a stick.

Soona quickly took the stick from him and went to check if you were still alive. She saw that you were still breathing thankfully. But your left forearm was completely broken.

"What happens now?" Soona asked Noa.

Noa was not sure what to do, his instincts told him to leave you there to die, after all, you were Echo. You would only mean problems to the clan, but there was another part of him that felt responsible for you and wanted to help you out.

"We take her home, help her wounds. After that, she has to leave." Noa said to Soona.

Soona nodded and took your frail body, and the three friends started their journey back home, back to Eagle Clan.

[asterias-record-shop]

LISTEN, OKAY FOR BINGO, IMAGINE DAVE LIZEWSKI WITH THE GLORY HOLE BINGO AND THE 25TH PROMPT

—𓆩[i love cherries]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - College AU! Frat Boy! Dave Lizewski x Fem! Sex Worker! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.4K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Dave wasn’t sure how he got into a fraternity, especially not one of the biggest at the university, but he went along with it. What he wasn’t prepared for was initiation, where everyone found out he was a virgin and were determined to make his first time something special.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || more mature themes || college setting || OC frat boy characters with the addition of Todd || not really kick-ass set but like he could still have powers I don’t really get into detail with that || Dave is so innocent but like not-? || he isn’t a fuck boy just a frat boy || bitchy! reader || you’re a masters student now || you also have a distinct mark on your thigh || maybe kinda BJ Alex inspired slightly? Just the differentiating mark || age difference, three years (Dave - 20, you - 23) || smut || glory hole || public sex || private hole in the wall if that makes sense? || the frat guys like reserve you for the night if that makes sense || still public though, abandoned park in the woods || virginity loss (Dave) || oral || multiple orgasms || squirting || multiple rounds || unprotected sex || degradation and praise || derogatory terms used ||

Dave really liked college so far. He was pulled into a frat somehow, probably after he got this new ripped body and got dragged into sports by Todd. It made him think that Todd was the one living vicariously through him, but that didn’t really matter to Dave much.

To be honest, he was excited. He had finally gotten the attention of girls, something he had always wanted, just not from the girl he wanted it to be from. You, a girl he met in his advanced class where he was stuck with students pursuing masters while he was barely walking into college, never gave him the time of day. You were beautiful, so fucking beautiful, and it truly did surprise him when he learned you weren’t in a sorority. He wanted to be a cute couple, a frat boy and a sorority girl, but it was okay. Dave wanted to date you either way, really date you.

No one understood why though, especially Dave himself. He knew some of the older frat guys had tried to sleep with you, and from what he heard, you always turned them down. It was a mystery why he had a massive crush on you, probably because he had major issues to be attracted to a girl who was a real bitch to quite literally everyone. A lot of people thought you were a bitch, but maybe that’s what happened when you didn’t lie.

You kept secrets, yes, but you never lied.

Dave loved sitting next to you in the class he was stuck in, some course he hated but only stayed in because it boosted his GPA and he got to sit next to you. It was an early class, so while everyone else was asleep, you were awake and looking absolutely perfect. You wore skirts often, always had your makeup done, and always smelled so good. Dave didn’t know how you got up and did all of this, he truly did applaud you for it knowing damn well he had a fucked up sleep schedule and always fell asleep for a minute in class.

He laid his head down on the desk, behind his laptop as he turned his head to watch you, your outfit today black. Your skirt was a dark black with a line of white on the hem, knee high black boots and a sweater protecting you from the slight chilliness outside. For fucks sake, you were fucking beautiful. The thing that made your look though, something that you never failed to have in class was a lollipop.

It was bright red as you twirled it in your mouth, another already ready to go when you finished the one in your mouth, cherry flavored and staining your lips and tongue. Your perfume corresponded to the lollipop flavor, strong and tangy, fruity but spicy and absolutely filling his mind with thoughts.

He liked the fact you stuck with cherry - did your room smell like cherries too? What about your chapstick, was it cherry too? What else did you have that was cherry based?

And as you crossed your legs, fixing your skirt so it didn’t ride up, he saw it. Oh, he had to hold back a moan at the cherry tattoo on your thigh, red and comical and just perfect.

He watched as you shifted again, eyes about to flash to him before he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep making you scoff. He kept his eyes closed, not risking you seeing that he was absolutely ogling you, and resulted in himself falling actually asleep.

“Hey,” a voice says, strong and confident but perfectly sweet as someone shakes his shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Dave groaned lowly, peeking out from the safety of his arms and almost falling out of his chair when he saw you.

You jumped, gasping as Dave moved frantically. “Dude, I was just trying to tell you that class is over and you can go sleep at home. For fucks sake, it was like you were waking up from a nightmare, are you okay?”

He nodded, swallowing loudly. “N-No, I’m okay. Sorry.”

You shake your head, shrugging. “Don’t be sorry, there’s no point. I was just waking you up. Anyways, you better get studying, we have a midterm next week.”

Dave nodded slightly, swallowing as he grabbed his laptop and started packing as you tried to push in your chair, struggling when it got caught in Dave’s. “G-Give me a minute, I’ll get up and I’ll fix it. Thank you for waking me up.”

You smiled slightly, nodding. “Thank you. Here,” you paused, grabbing a sticky note pack from your backpack side pocket and a pen. “My number. Call me if you need the notes from class, I can give them to you.”

Dave paused, shaking his head. “That’s not fair. I don’t have anything to give you in return, I sleep through class like every day. I don’t mean to, but it’s just so fucking boring.”

His words make you giggle as you start walking away, pausing with a slight turn. “You coming?”

Dave rushed to follow after you, watching as you started to giggle again. “Seriously though, is there anything I can give you, or?”

You hummed, thinking as you walked, your steps making a perfect line as though you were taking a sobriety test and your hips swaying. Oh, you walked like a runway model, truly just perfect. “You can buy me breakfast. Daily.”

Dave smiled, nodding. “Whatever you say…” he left the spot open for your name as you laughed.

“Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you,” you stopped, offering your hand. “This is my class. You have my number, call me, okay?”

Dave smiled and took your hand, shaking firmly as you giggled and walked into your next class, Dave standing there and staring for a little before someone slapped his back. “Hey, newbie! Ready for your initiation tonight?”

He recognized Landon’s voice, turning slightly with a shrug. “Yeah, I think so. What do you guys even do, anyways?”

He laughed. “You won’t know until you get there! To be honest, it’s nothing bad, you chose the right frat man. Just a chant and some swearing or whatever, besides, you’re already bonded with us. Tomorrow, we’ll have a party and you’ll get laid by some of the hottest girls on campus! Who knows, maybe more than one. Heard Heather got her eye on you.”

Dave’s nose scrunches at the thought of sleeping with someone other than you. You had some sort of effect on him these past few weeks, and to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what you did to him and why he was like this, but it wasn’t something he was complaining about. “I’m not really… interested in her.”

Landon paused, raising a brow. “You’re not interested in Heather?”

“No,” he shook his head, looking back at the room you went into. “Not at all.”

Landon paused. “Oh. Oh! You’re into Y/N! You like older women, don’t ya?”

Dave blushed, sighing. “I just… I don’t know what it is about her man.”

He laughed. “Nah, there ain’t nothing ‘bout her man, she’s just fucking hot man. Beautiful, she smells so fucking good, for fucks sake. Everyone loves her at the frat, man… she’s like a little rough around the edges, but she warms up quick.”

Dave hummed. Everyone loved you?

“She never slept with any of us, though,” he quickly filled in, shrugging. “She has a strict rule about sleeping with people. Don’t know what it is, but if the boys listen to anything, it’s a woman. We know consent. Anyways, I have to talk to you real quick.”

“Okay.”

“So Todd was joking around that you were a virgin?” Landon laughs. “Oh my goodness, you have to get back at him-”

“Oh, he wasn’t joking,” Dave filled in. “I'm a virgin.”

Landon paused. “Oh no. No, never in the history of this house had anyone who was a virgin join this house. You know what,” he paused, taking out his phone. “Don’t lose your virginity. Initiation is moved to tomorrow, we’ll make something special.”

It wasn’t until Dave was dragged to the middle of the woods - blindfolded because of course that wasn’t a horrible idea - did he regret wanting to join a frat. Who needed to be in a frat?

They finally made him stop, giving him a firm slap to his back. “We’re here!”

“Where is here?”

“Oh,” Landon laughed as he took off the blindfold, putting out his hands. “Ta da!”

Dave blinked slightly, shaking his head as he looked around. It was a park, one of those with that climbing wall with holes, pausing when he saw a pair of legs out of one of them. “This is Glory Park. Anytime our frat needs a glory hole, this is where we come. It’s like… a monthly thing, mainly before big tests and what not. We always get one girl, her name’s Cherry, she’s always got the sweetest cunt. And, she has no limits, so we can get a little rough with her. Nothing too extreme, though, we respect her. But tonight,” he sighed dramatically. “Tonight is Cherry’s last night doing this kind of work, and she’s all yours. She’s already stretched out and everything”

Dave gulped as he stared at the legs covered by a pretty skirt, swallowing. “I-I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Landon paused, tilting his head. “Why?”

He sputtered, shaking his head as he looked at the form. “B-Because she’s like not even looking at me!”

Oh, but then he paused. He saw that same cherry tattoo you had on your thigh, mouth going dry. “Wh-What was her name again?”

Landon grinned. “Cherry. You like cherries, Dave?”

He nodded automatically, head bobbing. “I love cherries.”

Landon laughed, walking toward him with a slap on his back. “The remote to open the hole is over there if she gets uncomfortable. You can’t keep going if she gets uncomfortable, she has an emergency button on her side, and a guard close by too. The hole will automatically open as soon as the sun rises, so you got all night. Besides, you got a couple of stacks right on the ground for her. She charges extra for kinks and shit.”

Dave smiled, nodding slightly as Landon patted his back. “Have fun.”

“W-Wait,” Dave said, turning to Landon. “Y’know we’re in public, right?”

Landon laughed, shaking his head. “You got all the privacy in the world here, man. Go get her.”

He slowly walked over, staring at the high six-inch heels on your feet and the high waisted skirt on your lower tummy. He could see the slight sliver of your skin, his palms slowly circling the sides of your thighs before settling on the cherry tattoo on the side of your thigh. “I-I uhm… I’m Dave.”

He could hear you giggle, his hands trailing over the plush skin of your thighs as he lifted up your skirt. “Y-You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his hands slowly trailing over your panties. Oh, he had to make you wet before fucking you, even if you were already stretched. “C-Can you talk?”

He watched as you pushed your hands through the hole, clenching your fingers in a way to ask for money. Dave nodded quickly, inhaling deeply. “Y-Yeah, right.”

Dave reached down, grabbing the stack of hundreds and fifties. “H-How much?”

You raise two fingers, Dave grabbing two hundred and slipping it into your hand. “Th-That lasts for the whole time? You talking?”

“It was supposed to be twenty,” you giggled, pushing our hand through. “Not two hundred.”

“Just keep it,” Dave said, shaking his head. “You’ll keep talking, right?”

He heard you hum. “Yes, I will. I’m sorry, normally they don’t ask me to talk… I’ve never really thought about someone wanting me to talk, and normally girls like me… don’t talk while this happens.”

“I want you to,” Dave whispered, slowly lifting up your skirt and pulling down your pretty black satin panties, a gasp leaving your mouth as the cold air brushed against your cunt, the sound of him dropping to his knees making you shiver. “I want to hear every single noise you make. I-Is this okay? I can do this, right? I want to hear you say yes, I need your permission.”

Your eyes rolled back, nodding. “Y-Yes, you can, you can. I need you.”

You tilted your head back, the platform supporting your back cold but soft doing nothing for the growing heat in your stomach as you bucked your hips. You had never done anything like this before with someone like Dave, someone you actually really like. “D-Dave,” you whisper, gasping as his tongue slowly trailed over the slit of your cunt. You didn’t even realize that you said his name until his mouth softly latched against your clit, lips puckering and kissing against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “O-Oh, my fuck.”

Dave hummed as he lets his spit gather on your clit, watching it dribble down your slit before licking his saliva flat onto your perfectly pretty cunt. “How’d you know my name?”

His voice made your eyes widen, a loud moan falling from your lips as his tongue flicked against your clit and his fingers slid into you. He could tell you were stretched so that it didn’t hurt you, but it was pleasure filled and perfect as you moaned loudly, unable to even answer his question before you started to ride against his fingers. “Come on darling, you can tell me… come on, come on.”

He was egging you on, every flick of his tongue making a shock spark up your spine, eyes rolling back as his fingers slowly curled inside of you and bumped right against that perfect spot that had your legs hooking around his head and pulling him closer. The loud groan that fell from his lips made your hips buck into his mouth, his tongue easily sliding down your cunt and focusing where his fingers were knuckle deep. You could hear the wet, lewd sounds filling the silence of the woods, echoing as your fingers attempted to dig into the plastic.

“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty and so fucking sweet,” he whispered, loud slurping noise making you gasp as he continued to work his fingers into you to pull another orgasm out of you. The slight mustache he developed over the year scratching against your sensitive cunt making a loud groan fall from your lips. “You have another one for me, right? Come on, give me some more.”

Your eyes rolled back, oh when his voice was like that, high pitched and slightly whiny as he begged for another was something you loved, but this was different. His voice was smooth and strong, egging you on with every roll of his fingers and pop of his mouth against your cunt, every slight scratch of his mustache, a groan falling from your lips again as you started to roll into his fingers.

“Your name’s Cherry?” He says, a smirk evident on his lips as he felt your heels settle on his back. “Right?”

You whimper out a yes, gasping as the tip of his tongue pushed inside of you with his fingers, your toes curling in your heels as they dig into his shirt. Oh, you wanted to see him, to watch him go down on you over and over again. “A-Are you sure you’re a virgin?”

He laughed, pulling his tongue out to spit into your already soaked cunt. “Are my skills mind blowing? Orgasm causing?”

You laughed. “No, nevermind. You talk like a virgin.”

He laughed as he curled his fingers, an action making you gasp as your stomach tightened and you came again, the orgasm shocking as your vision blurred - eyes crossing as your thighs tightened around his head, letting out another strangled moan. Dave laughed, pushing his fingers almost impossibly deeper inside of you, his other hand going to your clit.

“A virgin that’s making a whore like you cum over and over again. How many times do you think I can make you cum in the next ten minutes? Do you want to find out, hm? Or do you want me to fuck you like a whore?” He laughed as his hand started rubbing hard, rough circles as his mouth moved to suck and spit into your cunt. “Answer me.”

“J-Just do what you want!” You never really had a choice in moments like these, but the thought of him asking made you want to see him even more.

“I want to do what you want me to do, Y/N.”

Oh you couldn’t hold back the scream that fell from your mouth, eyes rolling back as your stomach starts to clench, gasping as his hand gets rougher. You knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to force you to squirt. The thought made your stomach twist, pleasure filling your entire body – he was the only person who focused on your pleasure quite literally in all of your sex life, especially like this.

“Almost there, baby, I know you are… you know I’ll take care of you, Y/N, come on!” He continued to egg you on, a gasp falling from your lips as you screamed out, eyes rolling back as your stomach clenched, the feeling of it unclenching making you sigh in relief before moaning loudly as he curled his fingers inside of you and a laugh fell from his lips. Your legs go limp around his shoulder, his tongue licking at your clit before he stands up. “Felt good, honey? Are you ready?”

You inhaled shakily, struggling to keep your eyes open. You had felt better in these past ten minutes than any of the hours you had spent with any other man. “How’d you know?”

Dave paused, sighing softly. “I-I saw your tattoo… earlier today. I-I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, but I needed your permission, a-and it’s worse because I can’t even see you.”

You hummed, moving your leg to press against his abdomen. “You’re talking like a virgin again, Dave.”

He laughed as he held your legs, letting your heels fall against his shoulders as he kissed your ankle firmly. “Well, I am. I-I… don’t know what it is about you, I want… I want to do so much with you, and not just sex. P-Please… is there a way I can see you? If you even want to see me?”

Your hand immediately moved to your emergency button that opened the hole, quickly pushing the top off and sitting up. “My phone is in the bag hidden in the hole of that tree. The emergency button pings my guard, I need to tell him nothing is wrong.”

Dave rushed over, grabbing your bag as you kicked off the panties that were stuck on your heel. Running back over, the curly haired man gave you your bag as you grabbed your phone, quickly calling Lionel your guard. “Lionel, nothing is wrong. I just… wanted to see his face.”

Lionel started panting, cursing. “You scared me. So it was him, right? The pretty boy you got a crush on?”

“Good bye, Lionel!” You hung up as Dave laughed, kissing softly against your neck as you set down your phone.

“You have a crush on me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you respond, gasping as his hands push your legs apart and he starts to unzip your pants. “D-David-”

“If you don’t want me to do this, tell me now,” he whispers, pulling away to give you a slight smile. “If I do anything you’re not comfortable with, tell me-”

“Cherry,” you whisper, smiling as you push your hands to the back of his neck. “Our safeword will forever be cherry.”

“Whatever you say,” he whispers back, smiling as he leaned down for another soft kiss. “Is there anything you know you don’t like? Anything you want me to do?”

“I don’t let people cum inside,” you whisper, but start to lay back before lifting your legs to settle over his shoulders, his hands immediately going down to hold your thighs and support you. “But I want you to.”

He inhaled sharply as you lifted up your upper body just to take off your shirt, humming as you tilted your head. “You want my bra off too?”

“Y-Yes.”

You giggled, lifting yourself up once again to take off your bra as he swallowed. “You’ve never seen a pair of tits before?”

He laughed. “N-Not in real life.”

You giggle as he slowly starts to pump his cock, hissing as you push your hand to slowly wrap your manicured hand on his shaft. “You want me to do it?”

He nodded, sighing in pleasure as you started to pump him. “Y-Yes please.”

You sit up a bit, the angle slightly uncomfortable as you pull his cock into you, eyes rolling back. Dave’s cock wasn’t what you expected, the perfect middle ground between lengthy and girthy. You moaned loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as he rolled his hips. “D-David-”

“I want… I want to finish it, can I please?” He whispered, the egging in his voice no longer there, his tone now high pitched and whiny. “Please?”

“Yes, finish,” you whispered, going back to laying on the platform as he held your thighs more securely now, pulling you closer as he thrusted his hips forward, roughly this time. You were still sensitive from your three orgasms, your legs twitching as you put your arms behind your head, the cold feeling of the air against your nipples only stimulating your already pleasure filled body more. “Fuck, fuck David.”

He merely grunts softly, letting out a loud groan as his thrusts started to get more composed, hard but perfect in a way you couldn’t describe. You felt your toes curling once again, every thrust making your body bounce as his cock rammed in and out of you. You could feel your stomach twisting and clenching, easily being pushed to the edge all over again after your first three orgasms again.

You could feel your stomach burning, every thrust he did making the bulging veins of his cock rub against your walls, his pelvis slapping into your clit somehow heightening the experience. “Look at me, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, groaning as he slammed his hips forward. “I know you’re about to cum, baby, don’t look away from me. I want to see it, I want to see you get pushed over that edge.”

His hand firmly settled on the tattoo on the side of your thigh, a loud groan of his name making him let out a strangled moan. The sounds leaving his mouth were like those you had never heard, animalistic and obsessed, his eyes dark as he stared down at you. He looked so perfect in the halo of moonlight surrounding him, staring down at you like you were the only thing he could think of – which was true, you were the only thing on his mind.

He was thinking about everything he was feeling, your tight cunt clamped down on his cock, your hands gripping his wrists in a way that he loved, your pretty eyes never looking away from his. Your perfect lips he hadn’t even been able to kiss all day.

He moved your legs to wrap around his waist, leaning down to brush his lips softly against yours, his hips never stopping their rhythmic thrusts that made moans fall from your lips with every movement. “I want to kiss you… can I kiss you?”

You nodded frantically, desperate. It was a horrible feeling that you couldn’t describe, the desperateness that was settling in your tummy to have him, all of him. His lips pressing to yours firmly, his perfect soft lips against yours tipping you over the edge as your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist and pulled him balls deep inside of you. He choked against your lips, your hips automatically starting to roll into his. Dave let out an almost whine like noise, hips rutting unconsciously, harder into you as he groaned.

You could feel him cum inside of you, hot and sticky but filling, every thrust he made pushing his cum deeper inside of you, your hands cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. “Dave, I don’t… I don’t know why, but you are literally the man I’ve felt the most at ease with… in my whole life,” you whisper, gasping as he rutted his hips unconsciously. “David!”

“I-I’m sorry!” He says, shaking his head. “I-I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You have to take me out on a date. You have to.”

“I-I will,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I will take you on so many dates and I’ll make you feel better than anyone else. Physically… and emotionally.”

You smiled. “I guess it’s good that you love cherries.”

He laughed. “I fucking love cherries. Especially if they’re on you.”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

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Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪   𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[melodyanqel]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ── ✧ sh. (iii. first date)

congratulations! you have been invited to the romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will live with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out you are marrying your favorite idol?

✿ pairing: idol!seonghwa x fem!idol!oc

✿ genre/tags: fluff, developing relationship, idol au, fake marriage, reality show

✿ word count: 2k words

✿ note: yayy! finally a new update! sorry that i left you all in the dark bc i had my bday, family time, and other things. but overall i am happy to write again! this one is too sweet like get prepared >_<

✿ melodyanqel taglist: @hwa-stars @forever-atiny @moonvol6 @10nantscompanion @chngbnwf @heheheeral

As time flies, the afternoon rolls around. 

When leaving the cafe, Seonghwa and Bella said “Goodbye” to the dogs and the workers. In the streets of Gangnam, there are a variety of shops, restaurants, Korean history, and many more. The couple walks around in peace as they converse as the spring breeze dances in the air. 

“What made you decide to become an idol?” Seonghwa is curious about Bella’s life because he expects it will be the best way to get to know her better. He changed out of the barista uniform into much more casual clothes. Bella responded, “My appa and omma grew up in the nineties and were big fans of K-pop. At five years old, my parents showed me classic K-pop songs, inspiring me to become an idol. I also loved singing and dancing, but mainly dancing. My vocals are not that strong.” She lets out a small laugh—a sheepish laugh. 

Seonghwa listens to her and has deep brown eyes on her as she speaks. After she said her weak skill as an idol was singing, it broke his heart. He also understands where Bella is coming from because he never wanted to become a vocalist before getting recruited to ATEEZ. 

“I was supposed to be a rapper. But I grew to love singing.” Seonghwa mentioned. “I’m sure you’ll find your singing voice.” He delivers an encouraging remark. Bella witnessed his handsome gleaming with the sun and his words were like magic. It can make anyone appreciate Seonghwa like no other. He is so kind. 

Bella contemplates whether it’s for the show or he meant it. 

She did a short nod. “Thank you, sunbaenim.”

The older chuckles merrily. “You’re welcome. Call me Seonghwa or Seonghwa oppa if you’re okay with any.” He tells Bella. 

“Understood.” She knows it’ll take a while to get used to saying his name in person. 

Seonghwa adds, “That’s also impressive how you traveled here at such a young age. Keep up the good work. Hwaiting!” He raises two fists and has Bella giggling. He is supportive too. 

Bella doesn’t know how much appreciation she’ll give him—probably until her heart combusts. 

Subsequently, the newlyweds found an arcade inside a mall to play games and win prizes. With Seonghwa, it’s either a good or bad trait that he is competitive. Not just him but everyone in his group will make a simple game like Rock, Paper, Scissors into a game from hell. Not to mention, the PD crew has given the couple a new task. 

For a first date, the arcade is perfect to be kids at heart and have a blast with games. However, this mission is to win a special plushie by earning one hundred tickets. Good luck, players.

The inside looks like any other arcade: neon lights, a cheerful atmosphere, and people of all ages playing games.

Seonghwa taps Bella’s left shoulder. Her head cranes up to meet his gaze. “A reminder or a warning. I’m a competitive player.” He needed to let her know. Bella smiles widely, “I am too. So, you got a helping hand.” She loves video gaming, especially with her members and older brother. That’s one thing the couple have in common. 

Before doing so, Seonghwa and Bella checked out their plush at the prize area. It’s Grogu from Star Wars. Once they saw the adorable green character, their eyes glimmered. “So cute!” They spoke in unison. 

Seonghwa and Bella turned their heads and looked at each other. “Do you like Star Wars?” The male idol asked his wife. She nodded happily. “I love Star Wars! Grogu is my favorite!” Bella has a mini collection of the alien baby. 

“Anakin Skywalker is my favorite.” Seonghwa could never be happier. Another thing they have in common. “Do you build Lego sets?” He asked Bella. She shook her head. “No, but I would love to do it as a hobby.” She knows Seonghwa is passionate about building Lego sets because she has watched his livestreams. They are enjoyable and therapeutic. 

Like a gentleman, Seonghwa allowed Bella to choose the first game. She decided to play basketball. After swiping the game card, Bella is up and ready. She rolls up the sleeves of her cardigan. 

“You can do it!” Her husband cheers so loudly with no care. Bella’s ears picked up Seonghwa’s lovely voice and her smile grew. 

She kept shooting hoops and times she missed but got a brilliant score. Meanwhile, Seonghwa was astounded while motivating Bella. 

“Wah, I’m tired.” She started to sweat in her cute outfit. Hopefully, Seonghwa doesn’t notice it. He tells her, “You were amazing! Jongho has competition.” Seonghwa brings up the powerful Main Vocalist maknae. Bella quickly shakes her head. “Nope. I’ll pass.” She makes an X with her index fingers. It makes Seonghwa laugh at how straightforward she is. 

After thirty minutes of playing games, they were halfway to getting one hundred tickets. Most of the time it’s Seonghwa being Bella's biggest supporter. 

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

-Interview- 

(Bella)

Q. Have you noticed your husband was cheering you on? 

The producer asked her, and she beams with an enthusiastic nod. “I did hear him from the background, and it was nice of him. I was having fun and was embarrassed that I failed to score, but Seonghwa was reassuring and I am thankful for that.” Bella couldn’t contain her smile as she talked about her on-screen husband. She must be the luckiest woman on the planet. 

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

Their last game was a difficult one. It’s the claw machine, but they are also assigned to get a roll of tickets. Inside the transparent glass is their prize with a chrome silver bow. “I’ll do this one.” Seonghwa declared because he felt determined. Plus, he wants to impress his wife. Bella has a handful of tickets, and she gives some moral support. “Good luck, Seonghwa oppa!” She cheers for the man. 

Intentional or not, he is screaming internally. She sounded so cute saying his name!

Seonghwa takes a deep breath before starting the claw machine. “Let’s go!” He tries hyping himself up. Bella laughs softly because out of all the games, the claw machine will be his worst enemy. 

She is correct. 

Ten minutes later, Seonghwa is frustrated that he nearly cursed on live television. Luckily, Bella tried calming him down, but his angry face looked adorable. Nevertheless, seeing the object slide off of the claw was aggravating. 

“Maybe I should help.” The dancer suggested. 

Seonghwa turns his head to her and says, “Yes, please!” He begged like it was the last resort. Bella grins while patting his back. She gives him their tickets and switches spots. “Okay, let’s see how I’ll do.” She honestly has some confidence, but not fully. 

After swiping the game card, Bella presses the “Start” button. Seonghwa immediately becomes her navigator, rambling on like, “Left, left.” “Turn to the right.” “Move a little further.” “Stop, stop.” “Time is running out grab it!”

Bella listened to his demand and successfully got the roll of tickets. Seonghwa's hunched position perks up and he yells his lungs out with his arms in the air. Bella squeals and claps her hands. 

They won the Grogu plushie and walked out of the arcade feeling satisfied. 

Seonghwa’s mouth gaped. “Wow. It’s already dark.” He didn’t expect the hours to go by so quickly. The evening is here and the sun sets with the blush of a rose petal. Bella’s brown orbs scan the pretty city lights. The plushie is snugged in her arms because Seonghwa let her have it. He considered the cute alien as her first date gift from him. 

“Did you have fun?” The husband asked his wife. They walked down the streets of Gangnam. Sometimes there will be days where it’s hustling and bustling. Well, they got lucky because it was peaceful. Just them in their own world made the atmosphere romantic. 

“Yes, I did! You were cool back there and thank you for the Grogu.” Bella replied and complimented him. Seonghwa will always get flustered by her kind words. He smiles gladly, “You’re welcome. I appreciate spending time with you before I go out of the country. Also, my birthday is coming up. April 3rd.” He reminded Bella that he’ll be doing group activities abroad and turning twenty-six soon. 

The petite beauty makes eye contact with him. She is slowly getting used to looking at his boba eyes. “Can I come along to your birthday?” Bella is down to celebrate. Seonghwa nodded excitedly. “Sure! The members and I will have a small party at the dorm I share with San and Mingi.” He also realized they’d be meeting Bella. 

“I would love to get to know your members. They’re my brother-in-laws too.” Bella giggles and it’s strange to call ATEEZ her in-laws. 

Even Seonghwa finds it strange to call STAYC his sister-in-laws. 

“They’re nice people except when we play games.” He describes his group as both sweet and chaotic. Bella didn’t need to assume because she had watched their moments on YouTube and variety shows. But they are an excellent group. 

She tells Seonghwa, “Don’t worry. My group is the same.” Bella can relate to him and they both find it funny and amazing. 

Then a place sparks her interest. Bella found a photobooth. Seonghwa sees her eyeing it in silence. He questions her, “Do you want to take pictures?” His voice broke out of her thoughts. Bella swiftly turned her attention to Seonghwa. “Can we? I don’t know if we have time.” She is hesitant and cares about his work schedule. 

To her surprise, Seonghwa shrugged. “I’ll take the risk of running late tomorrow. Besides, I’ve been wanting to have a break.” For once, he cares less about his usual routine as an idol. Waking up early when it’s the peak of dawn, doing practices with mentors for the whole day, meetings, and repeat. 

Bella is appalled. She wasn’t expecting this side of Seonghwa. “I hope you don’t get in trouble.” Her concerned response made her husband chuckle. “It’s okay. We’ll take as much as we want.” Seonghwa convinced Bella that he wouldn’t get scolded by his manager or big boss. 

In silence, the wife nods to indicate she trusts her husband. 

Seonghwa and Bella entered the self-photo studio with cute props on the clothing racks and baskets. Instantly, a headband of bear ears caught Bella’s attention. “Ooh! I'll wear this one!” She takes them from a rack. Seonghwa hums, “Hmm, I guess I’ll wear this.” He grabs a fluffy hat with floppy rabbit ears. He is a rabbit, after all. 

Once taking their chosen props, they go into an empty booth with a pretty pink background. “I’ll have Grogu join.” Bella puts her new plushie in the frame. Seonghwa puts on a broad smile, “He is photogenic.” The male idol commented. He sees her put the baby alien in the middle, and they strike a pose. Bella makes a cheek heart and Seonghwa cups his cheek—a signature pose, especially for his photocards. 

Second photo is a silly one with the small black glasses. Bella couldn’t stop laughing at Seonghwa because it’s true that he can make glasses look dorky. 

Third is with peace signs.

Fourth one is completing a hand heart.

Now, for the last photo, they weren’t sure what to do.

Seonghwa thought of an idea but wanted to know if Bella would do it. So, he asked her for permission. “You don’t mind if I have my arm around you?” He could feel his face burning crimson. 

Bella looks at him and says, “Since you asked, I’m okay with it.” If Seonghwa didn’t say anything before touching her, she would either feel uncomfortable or shy by his closure. He gently wraps his arm around her shoulders. Bella hears his heart beating against her ear. In return, she has the bravery to embrace his waist. 

Seonghwa felt her petite arms. Her touch is soft and cozy. 

In the last photo, they look like a real couple. 

series masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable? 

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions. 

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3. 

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside. 

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said… 

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from. 

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (13)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out, hurt/comfort

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 5k

← Previous Chapter (12) | Next Chapter (14) →

Baggage Chapter List

*****

With no money in the bank or dignity to uphold his principles, Jungkook's response to a threat was always flight. He'd long understood that a peasant like him had no chance of fighting.  However, the possibility of you and Soobin getting hurt because of his cowardice sparked something inside him.

Jungkook didn't know how, but he resolutely grabbed Lee Sung's knife with his bare hand, ignoring his trembling hand and his mind telling him to run.

"Now, now, Lee Sung-ah ~" Jungkook's body twisted until he faced the loan shark. His demeanor showed how he stubbornly refused to bend in the face of intimidation. It made Lee Sung's lips curve upwards.

"Not crying for mercy, Jungkook-ah?" A mocking laugh. Lee Sung watched as fresh blood trickled down Jungkook's hand. Jungkook didn't let go of the knife and even gripped its blade more forcefully. "Did hanging out with the feisty professor make you feel invincible?"

The mention of you was enough for Jungkook to lose his playful smirk, bare his teeth at Lee Sung, and snarl. One would think he was a helpless prey (and Jungkook guessed there was some truth to that), but the case changed when his enemies dared to involve you. Besides, Lee Sung had met Jungkook when he had nothing with him. Lee Sung never knew how Jungkook's mind worked and how he dealt with things when no Park Jimin was keeping him in check.

"Easy there, Lee Sung-ah~" Mirth crinkled in Jungkook's eyes. "Our game is for us alone, remember?"

How could Lee Sung not read the real meaning in Jungkook's voice wrapped in an almost syrupy charm? It was a threat, but Lee Sung couldn't help but chuckle. 'Jang Min-ssi,' Lee Sung whispered inwardly as his eyes darted to Jang Min standing meters away from them. "I understand now why you want to involve the professor in this game.'

"I'm so glad you mentioned our little game." Lee Sung blinked his gaze back to Jungkook. He forcefully retracted the knife, leaving a nasty straight cut in Jungkook's palm. Jungkook's face became unreadable, though. He couldn't feel pain—he only felt his heart chastising him to fight for you and his son.

"Because we want you back in our chess game, Jungkook-ah." Lee Sung's smirk grew big. "Jang Min-ssi said he needs you to play the king again."

Jungkook's eyes darkened. Meanwhile, a dangerous smile tugged at Lee Sung's lips as he raised his hand in the air, a small vial gripping his fist.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

You got home at around midnight. You weren’t in the mood to do anything anymore, but the guilt you nursed was becoming too much to bear.

"Mama will help you change your clothes, oki?" You picked up a pajama set from your son's drawer and helped him dress up. You usually soaked Soobin into a warm bath before going to bed. Unfortunately, you weren’t up for it tonight.

'I'm a bad mom,' your mind supplied unhelpfully. You felt as though you didn't deserve Soobin. You thought you had slowly forgotten how to care for your son as Jungkook did it on your behalf. 

Months of playing house with your bastard of best friend lifted half of your burden, but now that Jungkook wasn't around, you were starting to feel helpless.

Just where is that bastard?

Your eyes flicked to the wall clock. This was the first time Jungkook was home late. He didn't even tell you where he was going; he left early in the morning and excused himself for today's office work.

There was no point in stopping Jungkook. Admittedly, you were tiptoeing around him as you didn't want to pressure him into accepting the offer to work with you.

Tonight was the night Jungkook was meant to give his answer. However, You supposed that even a meticulous person like you sometimes went through some lapses.

"You've got your dates mixed up, Mam."  Lee Sung told you earlier this day. You went ahead to the office even without Jungkook. You went there with your son, though. You hoped Lee Sung could babysit Soobin while you went to dinner with Jungkook later.

Although you had reservations about Lee Sung, you couldn't deny that he was still a good babysitter, and Soobin seemed to like him. Your son never fussed and would sleep calmly in Lee Sung's arms.

It had been weeks since Lee Sung landed in Korea, but you refused to contact him. It felt weird being around him while Jang Min was thousands of miles away. You were not one to overthink, though you suspected that your boyfriend's assistant kept you under a hawk-like gaze and was reluctant to follow your requests unless Jang Min explicitly told him to oblige.

Today was one of the times when Lee Sung had explicit orders from his boss.

"Your dinner date with Jungkook-ssi is tomorrow. You're scheduled to meet up with the boss tonight."

"What?" You rubbed your ear as if that would help you understand what Lee Sung had just said.

Your boyfriend's assistant smirked. "Surprise! Boss Jang Min is back in Korea! He wants to see you first. He said there was no need for me to babysit Soobin-ah. He is very much welcome to join your date."

You should be over the moon. Your boyfriend, who you hadn't seen in months, was finally here. Regrettably, your mind was occupied with something else.

"But Jungkook..." You trailed off. You were sure you set up your date tonight. You even made a calendar invite about it so you wouldn't forget.

You were about to check your calendar, but Lee Sung folded down your laptop--an abrupt move that almost pinched your hands lingering on the keypad.

"Oops. Apologies, Mam~." Lee Sung sing-songed. "I've personally checked your schedule for this week. I have synced your calendar into mine for so long. Do you still doubt me, hmm?"

The pitiful look made Lee Sung look like a clown.  You visibly cringed; the thought of your dinner date with Jungkook vanished because of it.

"Okay, fine." You scowled. "I'm bringing Soobin to my date. Where and when should I meet Min-ah?"

"Wanna pick him up at the airport first?"

For some reason, You really didn't. But how could you do that to your lover? Ultimately, you agreed and spent hours on the road and waiting at the airport. You thought your uneasiness would clear once you came face to face with Jang Min. Surprisingly, you were still plagued by jitters.

"Hi." Jang Min kissed you on the mouth. He whispered a few sweet nothings to you before turning to look at Soobin, "Little one, I've something for you."

It was a Hot Wheels Elite 1:18 Scale Ferrari F40. Your eyes twitched. You looked at your boyfriend uncomfortably, "This is expensive. You shouldn't have."

It was wrong to say that to someone who had just given your son a gift. You knew as much. You were about to retract your statement when Jang Min shrugged.

"It's a simple gift, Cолнышко мо. You shouldn't habitually give those discount-store wonders for Soobin. It’s disgusting."

You were taken aback, and despite Soobin not understanding what Jang Min meant, you still wanted to cover your son's ears so he couldn't hear such a mean statement.

"Price doesn't matter to me, Min-ah." Your jaw tensed, your chin jutting.

Jungkook had some free time a few days ago and arranged a scavenger hunt for Soobin. You found it cute, prompting you to take videos and tell Jang Min all about the activity.

You had to admit that it was a cheap game. Jungkook spent 6,600 KRW on rewards he planned to give Soobin during the hunt. His grand prize was the most affordable brand of strawberry pudding, but your son thoroughly enjoyed it.

The game was a success. It honed Soobin's observation skills and exposed him to more physical activities. You participated in the game, too. Jungkook encouraged you with a teasing tone by saying, "Of course, you are welcome to join! You have the temper of a three-year-old. Ow! Don't hit me, such a meanie!"

"Don’t call me that, you piece of shit!" You snarled and hit Jungkook when Soobin wasn't looking.

Jungkook pouted.

"But you are mean, and you snarl like a wolf. Wolf has a good sense of smell; you can teach our pup how to hunt."

It was a feat to ignore your fluttering heart after that. ‘Our pup,’ Jungkook said. You couldn't control your emotions, so you gingerly shut your mouth and faked a hiss before turning to Soobin to brief him on how to play the game.

Overall, it was a fun experience. You won a prize because Jungkook hid an I.D. lace you were meant to find in the bushes. It had a simple design which you loved.

You have been going to your office these past days. The new lace helped because now you wouldn’t struggle to clip your I.D. on your clothes.

"Your old I.D pin is tacky. The new lace will make you a little less uncool."

"Shut the fuck up, bastard," You hissed.

Your playful banter continued, and you appreciated simple moments like this. You made up your mind not to let a mean comment from Jang Min get on your nerves.

Thankfully, Jang Min shrugged his shoulders, too jet-lagged to argue with you. You pushed through with your dinner date, though.

It was in a fancy restaurant Lee Sung had arranged. Soobin set aside his new car toy in favor of running around the place. You were in a private room, so no prying eyes darted on Soobin.

Unfortunately, you couldn't hear what Jang Min was discussing because of how loud Soobin was.

Gone were the days he sat still. Even Jang Min noticed this.

"Why'd he become so hyper suddenly?"

Your shoulder deflated. "I don't know."

It was the truth. You refused to say that the change started when Jungkook started babysitting Soobin, but Jang Min knew about it anyway.

"He's having too much fun with Jungkook-ssi, I supposed." Jang Min propped his chin on his palm as he called Soobin.

The child went near Jang Min at once. He batted his eyelashes at your boyfriend, earning a soft smile from Jang Min.

"Sleep?" Soobin asked obediently while Jang Min caressed his cheeks.

"Later, little one. You can play. Just don't be naughty."

Your heart softened at the sight. Jang Min and your son really did get along. However, you couldn't ignore the uncomfortable feeling in your chest:

You appreciated your boyfriend bonding with Soobin, but that's all to it. You found that you couldn't feel anything for Jang Min aside from gratefulness for trusting and caring for you and Soobin all this time.

"Min-ah." You muttered softly.

Jang Min told Soobin to play with Lee Sung before he turned to look at you. Your eyes looked as deep as the sea. Jang Min wanted to sail through it.

"What is it, Cолнышко мо?" Jang Min held your hand.

Months passed since you last touched him. You used to feel warm whenever your boyfriend's touch lingered on your skin. But now, there was nothing but coldness.

Jang Min's hands were damn cold. You tried to remember if it had always been like this. You didn't flinch now that Jang Min grabbed your hand, giving you a sense of familiarity that the coldness you felt was nothing new.

It was as if this winter feeling had been going on forever, and you simply thought that the cold water was warm since you had just gotten inside your home after being out in the snow.

"Cолнышко мо?”

You snapped your head up and met Jang Min's eyes. They're not chestnut brown—it didn't feel warm.

He wasn't Jungkook.

"Jang Min-ssi," Your chest heaved. You called your boyfriend's name with ragged breath.

Silence lapsed between you. Jang Min's white ushanka froze your heart more.

"I think we should break up."

It was said so suddenly. You gave no preamble, the paradoxical undressing phenomenon kicking inside you. It was your last straw before your feelings for Jang Min succumbed to hypothermia.

There was just no fire left to ignite your heart.

But Jang Min still held a match.

"You've had a long day, Cолнышко мо." The Russian man let go of your hand to signal the server to mind your bill, and then he casually wiped his mouth with a towel before indulgently looking back at you.

It's like Jang Min didn't hear or mind what you said.

"Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow. I only got home, too." He even made an excuse to shoot you down.

"No." But you couldn't wait anymore. You knew you were cruel, but every layer of your clothes begged to be shed. You were seconds away from dying out of the cold. "We—I have been postponing every serious conversation with you. I—"

You licked your lips and swallowed audibly, yet it wasn't enough to relieve your dry and aching throat.

You picked up your glass of wine and drank it in one go.

You looked at Jang Min guiltily.

"I can't anymore, Jang Min. I just..."

No silence or sugarcoating would lessen the abrupt guilt coating your heart.

You ripped off your last layer of winter clothes.

"I don't think I love you like that anymore." Or if I love(d) you at all.

Breaking the news of wanting to end your relationship was sudden, but the moments leading to it were not. You guessed it was partly your fault for ignoring the negative emotions you had felt for Jang Min over the past few months. Now, it was too late to fix them.

You were done. You couldn't fight even when a fraction of your mind told you so. Because if you loved Jang Min like your other half, you wouldn't feel nauseated at the thought of mending your broken relationship.

It's over.

You wanted to say more—to apologize to Jang Min for wasting his time, but you knew there was no point to that. It would just feel like slapping Jang Min in the face. Giving an excuse would only make you feel better. Jang Min wouldn't benefit at all.

"Alright." What was the use of a small matchbox when winter had come? Jang Min could only offer you a small smile. Not even you, who had been intimate with him, could decipher the quick curve of his lips.

"It's late. We should head home."

Jang Min insisted on bringing you back to his house. You were reluctant but agreed since you were with Soobin and didn't like driving while your son remained in the back seat alone. Besides, all of your things were under Lee Sung's care.

Lee Sung handed you your phone and wallet right after you entered the car. “Your phone’s dead.”

You shrugged. You didn’t have any important calls today, anyway.

"Thanks. Lee Sung-ssi--" You then offered your ex-boyfriend's assistant a genuine smile. It was the first time you attempted to be genuine to Lee Sung. "--For everything, especially for looking after Soobin."

"You make it sound like this is our last meeting, Mam." Lee Sung chuckled, oblivious that his boss was a single man now. "I know you got used to me driving you around, but don't get too sentimental on me. Tachihara's driving you home tonight, but we'll see each other soon. I just need to deal with a rat."

You were only being polite with Lee Sung. Frankly speaking, you didn't care what his agendas were. The word rat also left a bad taste in your mouth as you were reminded of your previous conversation with Jang Min. You didn't want to be rude, though—as your ex's calculating eyes were watching you. Soobin was also nuzzled in Jang Min's arms.

"Use your best trap, then." This was your farewell before shutting the car door close. You dared to look at Jang Min just to see his expression; for some reason, Jang Min's upper lips curved more.

The nauseating feeling clogged your throat again. You and Jang Min were done, so there was no need to give him the benefit of the doubt.

But you couldn't—afraid of what you’d know. You just did what you were good at: you pretended the uncomfortable feeling flooding your heart wouldn't drown you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

The rat was not caught in the trap because Jungkook freely trudged back to your apartment at one in the morning. He had dealt with Lee Sung, and only when he knew Lee Sung wouldn't harm his family did Jungkook decide to head home.

Jungkook was used to going back to a quiet home. Seeing Lee Sung tonight made him think he was back to his old life; this was why it shocked him to see you waiting for him.

"Welcome home, Kook." Your tone was lukewarm, masking all worries and guilt you harbored today because at least one thing was right:

Jungkook came back to you.

Sadly, Jungkook didn't seem too thrilled to see you. One look at your dropping eyes was enough for Jungkook to know you had an eventful night.

Jungkook sneered.

Jealousy was a little shit. Jungkook thought he was over it until he saw you smiling at him, acting like you didn't ditch him for the night.

Don't even get him started with your insincere concern. You had the most gentle smile when you welcomed Jungkook home, but it abruptly changed into an arched brow when you spotted the dried blood on Jungkook's skin.

"What happened to your hand?" You were alarmed, mindlessly crossing the distance between you two. Your rational thought disappeared as deep-seated fury and worry clouded your mind.

"Who hurt you?" You couldn't take it. The low grumble coming from your throat was akin to a wounded wolf.

Protect. You needed to protect Jungkook.

You seized your best friend’s wrist, chest tightening as an unbearable ache spread through your limbs.

There was a deep cut on Jungkook's palm, and God--you wanted nothing but to lick the wound and purr on Jungkook's neck. You knew you shouldn't feel this way. Breaking up with Jang Min wasn't an excuse to suddenly unleash your feelings for Jungkook.

But you were tired and pushed to your limits. Earlier, you wondered if you loved Jang Min at all. Now, the sinking feeling in your chest mocked and rejoiced as the thought of never getting over Jungkook overwhelmed your senses.

You found that the candle lighting your anger toward Jungkook was blown away—just as the darkness in your vision couldn't see and ignite the scorching type of love you once thought you felt toward Jang Min.

You heaved a deep breath.

Everything was too much and too little at once. Tears glistened in your eyes, but the lonely wolf inside of you was deprived of howling in the moon.

Jungkook pulled his hand away.

"What do you care if I got hurt?" His tone was scathing. Between the two of you, Jungkook held the burning lamp. He couldn't shake the image of you kissing another man, even though he knew it was irrational.

He hurt you first. But it didn't mean Jungkook turned into a fucking rock that wouldn't be shaken at seeing the love of his life get taken away.

Jungkook no longer felt human. Unfortunately, he still had his flesh and blood. His body tingled and felt like it was subjected to the fire after being in the frying pan for a long time. He was hurting, and masking his vulnerability didn't work anymore. Jungkook, in the face of the moon, finally bared his broken heart.

"Is that all you got? Pretending to care when you didn't even have the decency to tell me you're not coming to our planned dinner?"

A sharp edge to Jungkook's tone made your breathing hitch. The last time Jungkook acted this way was when you underestimated his venture with Oda. You never thought you’d see this side of Jungkook again. You got used to having the upper hand.

But you couldn't deny that you were in the wrong now.

"Fuck." You cussed, eyes widening as you struggled to keep your hands to yourself. You wanted to hold onto Jungkook, afraid that he'd bolt. "I—Jungkook, I didn't..."

Didn't what? Didn't know that Lee Sung messed up? That you blindly followed Jang Min’s assistant’s claim when you should have known better?

You felt stupid.

Jungkook was wearing the suit you bought for him. You could also tell that your best friend had blow-dried his hair earlier, as it had a more prominent curl at the end. Jungkook was probably nervous but sucked it up because you promised him a good time. You weren’t blind. You might not know what answer Jungkook would give, but you knew it took him much courage to be there.

Jungkook was never one to show up. He was a bolter, for fuck's sake. And the one time he didn't run away was also the time you made him wait in vain.

I'm sorry You liked to say. Unfortunately, the words were stuck in your throat.

Jungkook took in your expression. You looked constipated—as if acknowledging your mistake would be the end of the world.

Jungkook scoffed and shook his head.

"Whatever." He turned away. "You've always been like this, anyway."

That did the trick. You snapped out of your reverie. You looked at Jungkook as if he had offended your ancestors.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?"

But Jungkook wasn't looking at you anymore. He was walking toward his bedroom—as if he wanted nothing but to shut off the world.

You didn't think so. Jungkook had every right to pout, but he couldn't get away from accusing you of some bullshit. What did Jungkook mean you had always been like this!? Weren’t you the one who returned to Incheon after Jungkook and Jisoo stomped at your heart!?

"I'm talking to you, asshole!" You were about to forcefully grab the bastard's hand when Jungkook suddenly turned to you.

Your bodies bumped. You trembled when you felt Jungkook's hot, staggered breathing fanning your cheek.

Silence clouded the room, both your chests heaving.

The rim of Jungkook's eyes was red. He unconsciously nuzzled his nose against your cheek. You held back a flinch, your heart beating erratically against your ribcage.

Jungkook's heart wasn't doing any better. He wanted to claw it out and stomp it until it became a mess. This way, he wouldn’t feel anything anymore.

But that wasn't possible now, was it? Jungkook didn’t want his emotions to overwhelm him, but he didn’t think he could ever let go of the high he got from feeling the warmth of your skin.

You were addicting. It was easy to fall for you, making Jungkook think that what you two had was salvageable.

It wasn't. He made a mistake before, and you made a conscious decision to hurt Jungkook in return.

Jungkook took a step back. He could almost hear your silent protest. It made Jungkook want to pull his hair out.

You two really were fucked up. You both wanted to let go of each other, but neither wanted to unclench your fingers.

Jungkook sighed. He looked at you with resentment and defeat in his eyes.

"You never answered my letters."

Apologizing for your mistake was hard, but apologizing when you didn’t know what you did wrong was impossible.

"What letters?" Your mouth parted in confusion; a deep crease formed on your forehead. You had no idea what Jungkook was talking about.

Jungkook sniffed.

“Jungkook, what letters?” An unberable sense of panic shot through your body. It didn't help that your best friend looked hopeless.

Jungkook didn’t know where to start. All of this was fucked up. He just wanted to--

“I was in prison for years." –let it out. Jungkook broke the news to you as he took out a folded paper in the pocket of his dress shirt. “I sent you hundreds of letters from there, but you never responded.”

The paper was shoved into your chest. You panickily gripped it, scared Jungkook would snatch the paper. You had a feeling that this piece of paper contained the truth you had been craving all this time.

“I was going to accept your proposal, but I didn’t want to base our relationship on a lie.” Jungkook was doing well in trying to steady his voice. “I wanted to come clean to you. I wanted you to know that I paid half of my sins inside that shitty hole.”

You gasped lowly, too stunned to speak.

Jungkook had the urge to laugh because wasn’t it funny? He was just cradling his anger at you for making him wait in vain, but now he was forced to retreat again--to clip his claw and pretend it didn't hurt. How could he ever stand a chance against you when he was deemed as the evil one from the very start? As if making a mistake robbed him of feeling things—like he wasn’t allowed to start over again?

Jungkook didn’t know how to redeem himself anymore. He apologized to you for taking this long to tell him the truth.

“I…” You trailed off. You couldn’t meet Jungkook’s eyes. You were retreating, too.

Jungkook should have seen this coming--

“I..I need to process this.”

--and he had. 

You were forced to be fed with information. You had no chance to chew them, so now you choked. 

Jungkook clenched his jaw, forced to pacify himself to accept this. It’s okay, he told himself, because what else was he supposed to do aside from watching you crawl back to your room?

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

Jungkook paced back and forth in the living room before standing before your bedroom door.

4:02AM. It had been hours since you last confronted each other. You said you needed to process the information slapped to your face, but you didn’t say how long.

Jungkook couldn’t help but probe. He knocked on your door once.

There was no answer from the other side of the room.

Inhale, Jungkook commanded himself before trying again.

This time, he used his voice: he called your name.

Jungkook had known you for years and understood that you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the intense stimulation you had experienced. He was proven right when he pressed his ear to the door and heard you stirring on the other side.

Jungkook's breath caught in his throat, a sudden intake of air filling his lungs, but he didn’t choke. 

He felt relieved. You were listening to him.

Jungkook couldn’t waste his chance. He set aside his feelings in the hope of making this right. 

You slowly sat on the floor while listening to your best friend speak. You were glad you couldn’t see Jungkook’s face, as that would prompt you to break down and cry.

“You said you need to process everything, but will you listen to me?”

Your lips were pursed, yet you rested your head on the door.

Jungkook let out a breath, “Being in prison should have been the first thing I told you, but I…”

There was silence. Jungkook forced himself to continue.

“I was scared. When you told me about Soobin, I didn’t know what to do with him. I…” 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“I didn’t want him,” Jungkook said. 

Tears cascaded down your cheek, your fear materializing in the form of Jungkook’s soft tone but venomous words. You hated yourself for wanting to continue listening to him. Your treacherous mind was making you feel as if there was more to Jungkook’s story—that this wasn’t the time to snarl and hate him for feeling things.

“Soobin is my baggage, and he’s so, so heavy. He is a reminder of the things I have to carry with me wherever I go.”

Stop. Don’t say that to my child.

“But he isn’t like that anymore. Soobin is not a thing. He’s not a baggage. He’s my…”

Jungkook swallowed thickly as he puffed out his chest. “He’s my heart.” As he is yours. 

“I understand if you want me gone. I kept the truth from you. You are a mother. I know you wouldn’t want your son to be associated with an ex-convict like me.” Jungkook said this as if he was sure there was no room for any other opinion. Jungkook did not regard himself highly—or even as a human after he fell from grace. It didn’t even occur to him to keep his anger to you. He cared more about what you would feel after knowing the truth. His own feelings be damned.

“But…” Jungkook clenched his hands into determined fists. “Please know that I won’t leave. Not unless you told me to.”

Your head snapped up, but you soon wiped your tears and pressed your ears on the door, thinking you could hear Jungkook say that again. Did you get it right? Was Jungkook really telling you he wouldn’t leave?

“I made the mistake of hurting and pushing you away. I am still living with the consequences of that. I don’t mind. I can pay for it for as long as you want, but I refuse to want to die because of it.”

Jungkook had wished for nothing but death since he messed up his life. However, he was done with that part of him. He said Soobin was his heart, but that was a lie. You and Soobin served as his heart—his family kept him going:

You and Soobin pumped blood into Jungkook’s veins.

Wanting to die was easy. It was his wish, but… “From now on, I will live for you and Soobin.”

Jungkook rubbed his face against the door, hoping you could somehow feel his sincerity. He wished to see you and look at your eyes as deep as the sea. Jungkook wanted to drown in them.

“I will be here,” Jungkook repeated. “For as long as you will take me.”

There was no response from you, but Jungkook didn’t mind. He simply closed his eyes, wishing that when the sun rose, you would find it in yourself to take him back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

A/N: the fourth pic in the book cover finally made sense. Please look forward to Jungkook's life in prison soon ~~

I don't know when the next chapter will come out since starting next week, I am officially joining a new team in the office. Your girl is a fixed asset accountant or somethin' haha. Please wish me luck <3

[sovksluv]

LOVE IN CHAOS - chapter 1 all by yourself, sitting alone

☠︎︎ . pairing - Clarisse La Rue x fem!Nemesis!oc! Alora Blanie

☠︎︎ . summary - twelve years had been wasted -- and Alora knew that her opportunity window of freedom was closing quickly, so she mustered up all her courage, and finally escaped.

☠︎︎ . includes - sobbing/intense crying, nightmares, trouble breathing/unknown asthma attack, running away from home, oc is specified as a mixed black and hispanic girl with a name !!

☠︎︎ . word count - 3147

☠︎︎ . series taglist - @curlymeme

☠︎︎ . pjo taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

☠︎︎ . now playing - Not Allowed by Tv Girl

☠︎︎ . a/n - thank you to @curlymeme for the oc creation ! she gets just as much credit for this as me 💋 ALSO, SO EXCITED FOR THIS BTW, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT !!!!!

☠︎︎ . series masterlist

on the outside, her house was bright, standing tall, polished clean with rushed ferocity. perfectly placed bundles of flowers littering the yard, redolent with a fragrance typically only found in expensive perfumes. sat by the front door was a generic mat which mockingly read the word ‘Welcome!’ on it, with decorative cursive letters and a big red heart as the dot of the exclamation mark. the inside was supposed to match the outside. identically polished walls and fake plants that mirrored what passersby could notice from a mile away. 

that, however, was not true. things didn't always look the same on the inside as they did on the outside. the almost-too-perfectly held-up front served one purpose and served it well. to deceive. it’s not wrong to assume that a home so perfect was inhabited by a family just as perfect as its residence. so, people find it hard to believe her when the pristine little “rich” girl has something else to say about it. 

she didn’t want to speak against the judgment, having the basic knowledge that living in a comfortable house with two working parents was supposedly considered lucky. it would seem ungrateful to complain. how could she complain when she knew others weren’t as fortunate as her? kids even younger than her constantly wondered when and where their next meal would be, but not her.

her house sat tall, all the way at the top of the hill, towering over the rest of the neighborhood. there was an eerie stillness that was always washed upon the house. it was inescapable, a labyrinth of ear-ringing silence, with the not-so-occasional muffled arguments from behind her parent’s bedroom door. she didn't want to live her life surrounded by the quiet, but the yelling from the two people who were supposed to love each other were sounds she wanted to dispute.

Alora sat idly in her room, not making any noise so she could hear her arguing parents who had moved from their room, travelling through the hallway and quieting as they moved down the stairs. she never understood why they continued to stay together, especially since they argued more than they spoke. most of the time they argued about her. about how she continuously acted out, with no “real” reasons for her rebellions. her stepmother wanted to send her away to some boarding school, attempting to convince Alora’s father that it would fix her.

to be honest, the constant complaining from her stepmother had begun to grow on her father, he was considering sending Alora away to whatever school was the cheapest and the furthest. that’s why Alora had shot up the second she heard their footsteps echo downstairs. she hastily packed one small backpack full of her necessities. it was only a few hours before dark and she had to wait until her parents were far enough that they wouldn’t hear her quick movements. 

Alora knew that eventually her father would give into her stepmother’s endless whining and send her away so she had to take matters into her own hands. she was going to run away tonight. no ideas or plans, just anywhere from her evil stepmother and that unknown school she wanted to send her to. Alora would rather be anywhere than there. she wanted to leave on her terms, not because she was sent away. 

she packed lightly, having no clue where she was going or how long she’d be out. she took a few hair things, basic toiletries, and two outfits, deciding to have a three-switch-outfit routine. her bag also held the money she’d saved over the years, a Polaroid camera, a notebook with pens, and snacks and water that she snuck from the kitchen hours prior when her parents were too busy arguing to hear her. on the outside, it seemed like she was ready, but deep down, she was terrified. she had no idea what she was going to do, or how she was going to do it, but she knew there was nothing else she could’ve done. tonight was her only chance to escape.

uncomfortable silence rang through the house, and Alora paid no mind to it, then paused. it was too quiet. she didn’t hear any yelling, stomping, or door slamming. pausing her packing, she tiptoed to her door, putting her ear up to it, attempting to hear anything at all. it was still quiet for a few moments before she heard angry footsteps up the stairs. panic exploded through her entire body as she rushed to her bag, flinging it under her bed and straightening herself just as her bedroom door fell open. 

it was her father, who had collected himself almost as soon as her door was opened. he calmly walked into her room and closed the door behind him, he sat on the end of her neatly made bed, signaling her next to him. Alora didn’t listen, crossing her arms with a knowing look on her face. “don’t let her send me away, Dad. i’m your daughter!” her father sighed, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. she knew her words wouldn’t change anything. he already made up his mind. he’d always pick his beloved wife over his only daughter, the daughter who didn’t need to be sent away, but rather needed help.

“Lora-” 

Alora scoffed, “no, Dad! you always listen to her, and never listen to me! she hates me! all she wants to do is get rid of me, and she can only do that if she convinces you to do it too.” her father stood up angrily from his spot on her bed, taking a stomped-step towards her, prompting her to take an equal step back. you could see her stepmother standing behind him, leaning on your doorframe with a cocky smirk on her face. she was finally going to get what she wanted. “don’t talk about your mother like that, Alora!” he yelled at her, pointing his finger up at her face.

“she’s. not. my. mother.”

her father’s face went red with anger as he stomped out of her bedroom, her stepmother having already left, assuming Alora’s defeat. the door slammed behind him, leaving the walls around it shaking. fury bubbled deep in her stomach, leaving a dark pit inside both her heart and her soul. she was angry and her face showed it, but her actions didn’t. assuming she’d be on her way to the boarding school by morning, Alora moved quickly, perfecting every single plan she had for escaping.

sat uncomfortably on her bed, door locked, window open, and leg shaking, Alora waited. she’d be leaving any time now, just waiting for when she knew both her parents would be sleeping, unaware of the plans she was about to pursue. nerves had crept up into her stomach, having no idea what she was getting herself into. it was too late to change her mind since it was either that God forsaken boarding school or life on her own. 

she tried to convince herself that her dad could change. maybe if she begged hard enough he’d give in. maybe she’d have him remembering that that was his daughter he was throwing out, his only daughter, the daughter he was supposed to protect, through and through. nothing could change his mind. he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to her, her effervescent personality withering away over the years as she grew older. she assumed his deep but hushed hatred for her came from the abandonment of her real mother. her birth mother.

the whole reason for Alora running away was because of her father's relentlessness, his refusal to change his mind. though he was silent, he never failed to show in his face and actions the gaping hole of resentment he felt. even if he disliked her mother, he still told Alora about her. she was no stranger to the fact that her mother was a Goddess. the Goddess of justice and revenge; Nemesis. so she was aware of her lineage, which led her to believe that’s where some of her father's disapproval of her came from.

time was nearing midnight. Alora knew she should’ve felt tired, on the brink of sleep, but she was far from it. anticipation of her next moves kept her wide awake and alert. the silence of her house and her unknowing parents let her know it was time to go. she wondered if they’d go looking for her when they found she was gone. probably not, since they were going to send her away anyway. her father would probably want to look, or at least file a missing person’s report, but with her stepmother here, Alora was sure she’d find some way to convince her father otherwise.

it was a few minutes after the stroke of midnight, and Alora was hastily tying up her shoes and slipping on her warmest sweatshirt. it wasn’t winter yet, but the autumn nights tended to be cold either way, which sucked since that’s when she planned on leaving. with her bag slung over both shoulders and her bedroom lights shut off, she climbed out of her window and onto the roof

kept right in front of it, shutting the window behind her. one of her father’s ladders was previously set up right under her window, which she used to get down from the roof. she felt the chilly autumn wind run through her hair, sending chills and nerves down her spine. her hands felt sweaty and clammy as she climbed down, despite the almost-freezing air surrounding her. as soon as her Converse-clad feet touched the ground, Alora was gone, immediately running into the dark, creepy woods that sat behind her house, not once looking back. failing to notice the flick of a bedroom light going on, right where her parents slept.

it was so cold out, and Alora had no idea how long she had been running. she never stopped running. literally. not stopping to walk or jog, just constant running, without any breaks, wanting to get as far from her home as possible, filled to the brim with the fear of getting caught. one thing she knew, though, was that she was out of her home state of New Jersey and past the state line into New York. it wasn’t far, considering she lived right on the edge of New Jersey, but at least it ensured she wouldn’t be found easily. her parents would probably assume she was somewhere in their local town.

light hadn’t begun to shine yet, but she assumed it would soon, so she slowed down, deeming it safe enough to finally take a break. she was panting, desperate to catch her breath. there was a sign she noticed a few miles back, listing the upcoming gas stations and motels, which she planned on finding and staying in. money wasn’t a problem for her, as she had spent the last six years of her life saving all her birthday, Christmas, couch, and even street money. 

up ahead were the bright shining lights of a somewhat nicely-looking motel. staying there all alone made her nervous, but she had to. she had to get away from the prison that was called her home. she entered the motel check-in building with caution, purchasing a room for one night. as soon as she was in her temporary room, the door locked and lights off, with her head comfortably laying on the pillow, the way she quickly fell into a deep sleep was like she blacked out the second she was in bed.

the bright, screeching laughs of a young girl echoed around, bouncing off the dark walls of her mind. flashes of light blinked around her as she stood, slumped in the middle of a strange room. the little girl’s giggles danced delicately with those of another girl as they skipped around her, hand in hand. it was foggy and blurry around the gloomy teenager. the warm haze of the area around her was unfamiliar, it stirred the war deep within your consciousness. 

things seemed off, however, but whatever it was, was so subtle that she had trouble figuring out what it was, figuring out what was right from wrong. her laughs reflecting over the rounded walls of her mind were ethereal, spewing with remnants of the sun’s humid summer heat. Apollo was being generous – the girl thought, casting the warmth of the bright star across the backs of the three girls, despite the shadows lurking deep in the corners of the endless room. the blinding should’ve been enough for her to turn away, shield her untouched eyes from the hurtful rays.

in her isolated state, she felt nothing, hardly able to feel even herself. but, jealousy, surprisingly a common emotion within the girl, bubbled in the deep depths of her soul, and she had her mother to blame for it. i’m sorry! – she called, to no one in particular, no one who cared to listen, not as if there was anyone there anyway. she pleaded to be heard, begging for forgiveness, but it wasn’t truly her. well, it was her. but it wasn’t?

it was the little girl. an almost identical, but younger, shorter copy of the towering girl before her. and suddenly, she was aware – heavily aware, even if it was dangerous. is this a dream? – she asked, it was impossible to tell if her lips had moved, allowing the words to leave her mouth. or if it was a thought that had somehow managed to leave the confines of her mind that was in her mind. It was like a labyrinth. it scared her. no – there was no way this could be a dream, instead, a nightmare. one that she felt she was trapped in, with no doors, no windows, and no way out. 

was it possible to feel trapped in your mind? be trapped in your mind? i mean, that’s what she assumed, that it was her mind she was stuck in, feet firmly stuck to the bottomless pit-like ground. maybe her subconscious had led her into the dreams and nightmares of someone else, probably someone she knew, right? maybe it was the other little girl? that little girl who had been skipping around with – what she assumed – was a younger version of herself. 

the young girls flashed by quickly, almost like a glitch on a computer screen. having already seen her close enough, she was able to both memorize and recognize the smaller version of herself, but she was also able to get a glimpse at her nightmare version’s companion. with her fingers tightly grasping onto her friend’s, the small girl skipped around, beaming with smiles and laughter, living a carefree life. despite her young age, tight, defined curls framed her tan face, cascading down her back, and bouncing with each step of her feet on the hazy unlit ground.

she wondered who the girl was, and how she knew the miniature girl meant to represent herself. in her dream state, nothing, none of anything she’s witnessing, – herself, the other girl, the running around, the laughing. – none of it was familiar. not one noise, color, or movement sparked any form of recognition in her intellect. how could a past version of herself have such a vivid, gut-wrenching sense of familiarity, yet feel so unimaginably unfamiliar deep, deep inside her?

the confusion bouncing between the walls of her mind like a ping pong ball, making her head twist and turn with every new direction, always stranger than the one before it. it felt like long, excruciating hours had gone by, where she was just stuck in the middle of the pitch-black darkness, physically – and mentally – unable to pick up her feet and move, even just the smallest inch. She felt held back, physically tied down to the room surrounding her, hands bound, feet changed, ensuring she had no way of escaping. 

all she could do was watch the two young girls as their laughter faded to sobs, their skipping in joy to running away in fear. how quickly Apollo’s rays of sun turned into Selene’s ethereal glow of the moon. a full moon. she had pulled away from her nightmare confinement, slipping back into the real world with the echo of her past self’s ear-piercing scream, rupturing and spilling deep down to the crack already formed in her soul. oh, and the loose thump of a small child’s body dropping on the ground.

Alora flung herself up, blankets pooled around her feet, which then touched the cold floor as her body stood up, wobbling, warm tears sobbing down her face. her side of her cheap motel bed almost completely drenched in sweat, her body shivering in sync with her sobs. she searched desperately for any ounce of oxygen, though it seemed every atom had been sucked away, her lungs deflated, struggling to bounce back. 

it felt like she was dying. her heart refused to slow, even going as far as to pump more blood, increasing the deafening pounding that she heard in her head, her ears, and all around her. weak, shaky legs giving out, her body made a thud on the ground, leaving her a heaving mess on the hardwood floor. mouth wide open, head going numb from the lack of air altogether. her throat burned dry, tears cascading down her cheeks, her clammy hands clawing at her throat as if claws would appear and slice them open, any way to let air in.

she had no idea what was happening to her, or why it was happening. maybe it was connected to her dream? she didn’t know, only wanting to gain back control of her own body. scrambling to collect herself, the shadow looming outside of her room window went unnoticed as it flowed away, eyes casting a strong gaze upon the poor girl. when her body allowed the stuffy air in, she began to calm down, legs curling up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. she had stopped crying, but was sniffing like crazy, shaking, her mind so unbelievably overwhelmed that she struggled to even think about anything that just happened. she couldn’t fathom the idea of sleeping again, mind traumatized from what she had just been through.

Alora rested her chin between her knees, sat and wrapped in a tight ball. it was only the first night of running away and this is how it turns out? how is she going to survive the rest of her time alone? she was clueless, any plans or ideas she once had were long gone, floating around the dark and cold motel room. her body still shook and shivered, numbness filling herself. she had no clue what was in store for her, but only hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as the first night. oh boy was she as wrong as she was naive. 

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work !

[doubledeadstudio]

Finally got the courage to ask a question (Happy New Years Eve/ Day whenever you see this) but just a general question

What was the creative process of making Reanimated Heart, Another Rose in his Garden and Pygmalion’s Folly? What was the inspiration behind those three games? What was your favorite one to work on? Do you plan to make new games in the future?

Happy New Year to you too, anon! I love questions like these. The development and creative process is something I'm very passionate about.

Creative Process? Inspiration? (Just shoving both of this in one, long discussion about how these things came to be)

Okay, you guys will probably think I'm an insane person, so let me explain how I got started on them...

I first started with RH (of course) when my friend Tay told me about this game she was playing where a character really resembled Crux (it was Markus from Red Embrace: Hollywood). And I played it because of that, and I was like, damn??? He really does? And I was on the path of my artist journey that I was like looking at the game assets and the dialogue and stuff where I was like... Wait, I can do that. I can write like this. I can draw everything. Who's stopping me? I had a dream with the tree, and I started writing dialogue in "hypothetical" VN scenarios, and I was like... okay, fuck it, I already got disowned by my family and I wanna kill myself, I've got nothing left to lose.

So I started pre-development for Reanimated Heart and wrote like about 20,000+ words, made sprites and backgrounds, spent an ungodly amount of money for music and fonts and did research, and released the Prologue on itch. It ended up kind of a flop? And I was honestly so mad for years LMFAO, but I kept at it because I liked making it. And then a fan, Ashe, contacted me out of nowhere and suggested I improve my socials. (Thanks Ashe.)

All in all, I think that, if RH never gathered attention... I would still be making it, but releases would've been shorter and weirder, and it wouldn't have the level of polish it does now because "nobody's playing this shit anyway." But having a fandom motivates me to push past my comfort, and inspires me to do releases semi-regularly. So, thank you guys for the support. :>

Anyway, enough RH rambling. Another Rose happened because a couple of members in the chat (I remember Maz and Chat in particular) kept joking about Omegaverse and I've never like... consumed any Omegaverse before, and I literally had no fucking clue what it was other than mpreg and werewolves. And I was like drinking that day and I got intrigued. And I kept thinking about the scenarios and became like ACTUALLY invested, but I didn't know anything about it still, so I kept asking Maz about it and she really helped hash out the "lore" and gave me really good scene suggestions. I honestly think Another Rose is the most indulgent of all my games because...

First of all, it's just straight porn. Second, aside from the quality of the work, I don't think about the audience, at all. There's only a price point to it but it's basically like a smut novel with some path deviations (that also just read to different porn)? Third, I'm like... I'm not going to lie, obsessed with my husband's OC Mars. And it's funny af to me how people ended up disliking him, because this whole game was like just my personal (smutty) love letter to how much I love that godawful man.

For Pygmalion's Folly... There had been long discussions in my server about murdersims. I'll be honest, I didn't get them at first, but I think Adri framed it in a way that I understood it, which was like... it was a morbid fascination to how bad things can get in situations like that. So I ended up playing the first BTDs and obsessively finished TPOF to the point I was having dreams about it, and I'm not going to lie, I had a dream! Again!! And it was Florentin killing the MC over and over. I woke up in a haze and wrote like the first 3000 words of the game in a frenzy with just 2 hours of sleep, and I was like, okay. This is getting made for sure. And because Adri was the avid murdersim fan, I consulted with them about the game, and they were the one that suggested the stats system, as well as some scenarios for endings.

So I guess tl;dr I cannot explain how I make games to you guys because they just kind of form when I'm drunk or get prophetic dreams.

Favorite to Work On?

Honestly, I loved working on all of them equally, believe it or not. (I equally also hate all of them when I'm crunching for the release. /jk)

The thing about these characters is that they're all OCs that are near and dear to my heart, ones that I've had for YEARS (I've had Vin for 12 years, can you imagine that?), and seeing all of them in action excites me so much.

I love that I got to make Abel the protag and I love that I got to put him in fun, sexual situations. I love that I managed to show off Florentin's special powers, and draw amazing grisly CGs with him. I love that Black, Vin and Crux are different, romanceable characters, that you can go to their houses, that you can see CGs with them, that you can follow their character development and be invested in their secrets, that they even have awesome voice actors that bring them to life!

And I love that so many of you also love them too, and write fic of them and draw them... Honestly, that's already my dream, and I'm so happy about it.

New Games in the Future?

Absolutely, yes! I got the VN dev bug and you guys will have to chase me out of here, LMAO.

But this year, considering how busy I'd be... I'd say probably not in case something really pushes me to make something (like, I had an idea I can't stop thinking about). My top priority right now is Reanimated Heart's Chapter 1 finale, and I have some free DLC I'm thinking of adding for Another Rose and Pygmalion's Folly, so those will probably get prioritized first.

[aquagirl1978]

Meet my OC: Charlotte (IkePri)

Name: Charlotte Lelouch Paired with: Chevalier Michel Relationship: romantic Age: 27 Hair Color: dark red Eye Color: hazel green Birth Sign: Aquarius

Early Life

Charlotte came to live at the Palace in Rhodolite at an early age. Her mother, Clavis' sister, passed away when Charlotte was very young. With her father not in the picture, the now orphaned Charlotte moved into the palace to live with her aunt Leticia and cousin Clavis. Clavis and Charlotte were the best of friends, with Charlotte following her older cousin around and getting into trouble with him.

Incredibly intelligent and kind hearted, Charlotte was much like her cousin down to the matching birthmarks below their mouths. The one glaring area where the two differed was on their relationship with Chevalier.

Charlotte often acted as a buffer between the brothers. Clavis, never wanting to be alone with Chevalier, brought Charlotte along with him to make things more bearable. Chevalier, who tolerated so few people, allowed Charlotte to remain as, in his words, she, unlike her fool cousin, knew when to stay quiet.

After the death of the former queen and her aunt, Charlotte's future was unknown, until Sariel agreed to let her stay. He reasoned that it would be detrimental to her to remove her from her closest living family member.

Childhood Friends

When they were young, Charlotte had a somewhat distant, but respectful, relationship with Chevalier. She would remain (mostly) quiet in exchange for borrowing books from his library. They would sometimes read together, with minimal words exchanged. She was in awe of Chevalier - his genius, his grace, and as she got older, his looks. She never understood why Clavis hated him so much, and perhaps a part of her tried to get closer to Chevalier to improve their relationship.

There came a time in Charlotte's education when she, to put it nicely, outsmarted the palace teachers. Sariel was at a loss as to what to do with her - being the hellcat's cousin, no one wanted her as a student. That is, until the second prince agreed to be her tutor.

From that day on, they would spend time in each other's room studying together. Chevalier was impressed with her intellect, and found her thirst for knowledge refreshing. Unlike her cousin, she was not obsessed with besting him and was therefore able to focus her attention where it mattered.

It was during these study sessions when Chevalier first noticed he was experiencing strange feelings. They weren't unpleasant, a bit bothersome if anything. Over time, he grew accustomed to them, so much so that he even enjoyed these new feelings. He knew then it was time for him to stop being Charlotte's tutor.

Dating Chevalier

Now we get to the anti-climatic part of this story. I don't want to put anything here, because this is where it gets fun - flirting and kissing and teasing and more - and I have fic ideas planned for their dating journey. I'm gonna kinda just end it here, if I don't I'll ramble on until I can't write anymore words on this post. Charlotte has lived in my head for close to three years now, and I have a lot of stories in my head. Some I might share, some I won't.

On that note, I do welcome any and all asks about her, about her relationship with Chevalier and Clavis and anyone else in the palace. I will be reblogging OC ask games moving forward - always feel free to ask about her. I also have a modern AU for Charlotte and Chevalier which deviates greatly from canon. I might actually be more invested in that one, as I have far greater creativity there.

I also had so much fun working on this for Charlotte, that I have created another OC, this one for Ikemen Villains, and I hope to have her page up soon.

[dork-a-doodle]

Cringe is dead and I’m redesigning my old UT/DR OC/Self-Insert: Echo (she/they)

Info dump about them below the cut!

So I originally made them in the wake of Deltarune’s release, when the whole “we, the players, are possessing Kris 😱” thing was very fresh and the whole Undertale Multiverse was still going strong. So naturally they started out as basically a self insert, the version of me that played Undertale and later Deltarune.

So a quick rundown of their lore (btw I make no apologies for the Mary Sue aspects of this):

They originally controlled Frisk, doing several different Runs, endlessly curious about the world

At the end of their most recent True Pacifist they find their way back in the True Lab and into a part of it they hadn’t seen before

While exploring they accidentally activated a machine from before Alphys’s time and get Gastered

…kind of

Instead of being fully “shattered across space and time” they’re just… slightly fractured across space and time

Tbh I like to think of it like they got hurled full force at the 4th wall and got stuck in it like jello

Not really breaking the 4th wall so much as jiggling it aggressively and gaining an new kind of perspective

This had some interesting consequences, including (but not limited to):

separating from Frisk (who runs out of the Lab in fear) and gaining a physical form of their own

the ability to slip into different universes at a whim

the inability to talk normally, now effectively “speaking” in text box noises (lmao get Animal Crossing-ed idiot) and thus can’t be understood by most people (with a few exceptions)

the ability to posses objects and other people (which they do feel the need to sometimes as their true form is off putting to most, though they try not to possess people if they can help it)

others probably? haven’t quite figured that out yet

Which these newfound abilities, they decide to explore the multiverse and see all the interesting things it has to offer

But first, they decide they want a traveling companion, so they don’t get lonely

And they know the perfect candidate, someone who understands what it’s like to have unfathomable power and the want to explore all possibilities with that power for your own entertainment and curiosity’s sake

Someone who really doesn’t have anything left to seek in this world

And damn it if Flowey isn’t very interested in that offer

This arrangement is a strangely balanced symbiosis

For Flowey:

traveling the multiverse gives him a kind of clean slate he could never achieve on his own, especially with the loss of his reset powers

the multiverse is also very interesting and fun to explore

they know what he’s been through and what kind of a person that’s made him better than anyone else. they understand it, and they know to judge him for it would be hypocritical

For Echo:

so long as Flowey is attached to them in some capacity he can understand their strange “speech” and frequently acts as a translator (they are also learning sign language to ease that burden)

he’s far more experienced in battle and frequently acts as protection in more aggressive universes

re: the point about mutual understanding

Flowey is also unable to absorb their soul, which means his power over them is limited and if he crosses a line they’re fully able to ditch is ass in any universe they want

It’s notable that while Echo’s curiosity can occasionally override their morality, they’re still more inclined to chose the kinder option

I consider them to be chaotic neutral, leaning towards chaotic good

(I also personally see Flowey as somewhere between true neutral and chaotic neutral, occasionally slipping into chaotic evil. What can I say, he’s a nuanced guy)

Anyway, they travel the multiverse together, experiencing new things, seeing interesting sights, causing chaos

Eventually they find themselves in the Deltarune side of the multiverse

The universe they end up in is one where the entity possessing Kris is an incredibly malevolent one

Or I should say, the entity that was supposed to be possessing Kris

As Echo senses the Bad Vibes approaching this random human child, they say “absolutely the fuck not” and possess Kris themself to block the entity

This does mean they have to drop Flowey to do this, so he’s just kinda in the background for the time being

From there it’s basically just Chapter 1 until the point when Kris rips out the soul and goes to eat some pie

While they’re distracted, Flowey climbs in and breaks open the cage so Echo can unpossess the soul and leave now that the malicious entity is gone

They do decide to stick around and check out these Dark Worlds

Luckily for them, while they were busy dealing with the classroom Dark World, Flowey took the time to explore the town and found this perfectly good empty vessel that someone seems to have discarded

Deciding not to question it, they possess the vessel and wait for a new Dark World to open so they can explore it together

And that’s the basics of their story (or as much of it as I have ironed out lol). Hopefully this hyperfixation stays with me cuz I’d love to explore their character a lot more 😁

[applepiesupreme]

American Apple Pie

Pairing: Low/Mid Honor Arthur Morgan and female OC.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Savigne Ricci is a temporary guest at the Van der Linde camp. Her path crosses with the enforcer of the gang, Arthur Morgan, and despite their differences, a relationship develops between them. Whole lot of smut and fluff, slow burn-ish.

Chapter 37

AOC link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/152613556

She crated everything of importance, then lingered around for a bit, equally relieved and sad to finally leave Shady Belle. Relieved because she had never liked it here and sad because this time she was definitely losing the tent. Sadie had told her that they were going to move fast, so they would only take the important personal items. Aside from Charles, there were no other men left to lug the big stuff - Uncle wouldn’t touch anything due to his lumbago, Swanson was perpetually stumbling around drunk and Strauss argued that if he had been built to do this kind of work, he wouldn’t be needing a collector for his debts in the first place.

She sat at the table as the day was still bluish, her breath misting a little and wondered where Arthur was and how he was doing. It felt a little ironic that she had arrived in this country on a ship in less than pleasant circumstances and now he was leaving on one the same way. Like a silly relay team, they had connected and brushed fingers for a second, then they were thrown hundreds of miles apart. Anger and longing mingled and intertwined in her heart. She thought of how he had explained to her in the Bayou that he didn’t have any other means to make money and that he needed money to break off. She understood that this was his only trade and yet, in her heart, she also resented him for it. Arthur was a smart, capable man. Most people in the gang were. They could do a million other things. Instead they were all addicted to easy money, and the funny part was that it wasn’t even easy.

She approached the horses and patted Frost's neck, cooing to him that his owner would be back, then climbed on Cricket and rode this particular route for the last time. Despite hours of thick, dreamless sleep, she was tired and worn out. Like a bucket brimming with water, she had reached the limits of her capacity. Every added drop now just slid off because there was no more room in her. Sister DuBois used to say bad news come in threes so if there was one more shoe to drop, she expected it to happen soon. 

Work was surprisingly boring. Despite their promise the previous day, the detectives didn't return. But the lunch crowd doubled in size, full with with people who wanted to mingle and gossip about the robbery. She fulfilled order after order, her plates meticulous and perfect but also repetitive and boring. When her shift ended and she walked out of Antoine's, Sadie was leaning against a lamppost nearby.

"Did you find a spot?" Savigne walked up to her. 

"Did. Ain't great but it's well hidden. Pinkertons are in a frenzy. ‘M sure they gonna find and swing by Shady Belle soon."

Savigne exhaled with frustration. Ever since the Heartlands, the gang's prospects were continuously declining. It was obvious to everyone but themselves. Every spot they picked was worse, with every move the noose drew tighter. If it wasn't for Arthur, she would have moved a long time ago, but here she was schlepping her stuff around with them and living off crates. Why even work in one of the most prestigious restaurants in the country if you're going to live like a fucking homeless person?

"You ready, Sugar?" Sadie straightened.

"Yeah, let's go. I still don't know what we're going for, but I guess you would have told me if it wasn't private."

"Feel crabby," Sadie rolled her shoulders. 

Savigne blinked up to her and half chuckled. "I thought that's just the way you are."

Sadie gave her a side eye. "More crabby than usual."

They checked Cricket out of the stable and tied him and Sadie’s horse a block away from the clinic. Then they filled out forms and waited in the small lobby. Sadie paid upfront and asked Savigne to get checked first when prompted and she relented. Maybe she would get some candy out of it and hell, even that would be an improvement to her current mood. Finally they were guided into a small, spotless room and she looked around with approval. You would expect all clinics to be clean, but in Saint Denis if that was your expectation, you were in for a rude awakening. This, no doubt, was one of the fancier ones. The clinics in the poorer neighborhoods stank worse than the neighborhood itself, which was an impressive feat. She poured herself a glass of water and inspected the books on the shelves - a mixture of medical works in French, German and English. 

A few minutes later a stunningly handsome, tall man with sandy hair, a slim mustache and soft hazel eyes walked in, their folders at hand. Savigne did a double take - in another life she would have been smitten with this man. Impeccable suit, well picked spectacles, an attitude exuding professionalism, discipline, precision and care. 

"Ladies!" She heard the slight French accent in his perfect English. "I'm Doctor Polleux. Welcome. Who goes first?"

"My friend here," Sadie ushered Savigne into the chair. 

She sat down, enchanted by the turn of events. She liked clean, well kept, professional, beautiful people and she liked watching them display their art whether it was food or medicine or something else entirely. His hands were silky and warm as he shook hers - clearly the hands of a man who handled delicate skin and turned book pages and wielded intricate tools instead of guns.

“So…” the doctor said and pulled a chair to sit closer. “…nice to meet you, Miss Ricci.”

“Likewise,” she breathed and took another sip of water. Up close, he looked even more handsome. There was a bit of yellow in his hazel eyes and his lashes were long and dark. She sat up a little and hoped that she didn't look like roadkill after the day she had yesterday. Was it odd to be enchanted by some stranger while Arthur was fleeing for his life, fate unknown? Perhaps. Had Arthur made that choice without even talking to her and practically abandoned her? Absolutely.

“Can you state your complaints?”

“She fainted a few times,” Sadie stepped up to stand behind her chair. "Overall tired. Gained a little weight. You get the picture.”

"W-what?" Savigne stammered up to Sadie and and turned back to the doctor. "Just a tiny little bit," she said hastily. "Also, the fainting - more like I was a little dizzy.”

“We had to carry you,” Sadie crossed her arms and threw a foot out. “And, like I said, y’aint exactly light no more.”

“That’s bull-” Savigne bit down the rest of the word, cleared her throat and glanced at Polleux sitting in front of her. “My friend exaggerates.” She glared up at Sadie, irritated. She was perfectly well and only here to do this woman a favor and there was absolutely no reason to mention any weight gain. 

“I see. Let’s get your blood pressure and all that. Please take off your coat.”

The doctor checked her vitals, her eyes, her ears, then put on his stethoscope and listened to her heart and her lungs. His touch was light and soft and she enjoyed his sharp attention on her, even if it was purely professional. 

“You seem a bit anemic, but otherwise fine.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and wished she had met him when she was cleaner. Judging by the immaculate white of his shirt collar, he was the kind of man who would have noticed that.

“Any unusual complaints?”

She inhaled and thought on this, milking her moments in the chair. "Well...I have a weird flutter in my stomach sometimes.”

He paused. “A flutter?”

“Yes, right here," she pointed to her abdomen. "It's not painful or anything. Feels like bubbles.” 

Savigne was pleased when he didn't give her a dismissive look and instead asked “May I see?”

"Certainly, doctor." She unbuttoned the bottom buttons of her blouse and pulled it up to reveal her chemise underneath. When he leaned in she smelled his cologne - very faint but vibrant and fresh, like his hands and his eyes.

He inserted the earpieces, held the bell of the stethoscope against her stomach and listened for a while. 

“When was the last time you bled?”

This gave her pause. “I don’t bleed very regularly,” she explained as she tried to remember. "Never have. But it’s been a few months. Maybe…three?” It occurred to her then that for a long time now she had been expecting a period that had never come. He moved the bell around, listened attentively, then folded it away as Savigne flitted through her memories and tried to pinpoint an approximate date. 

“Any nausea?”

“Sometimes. I threw up a few times, but the last one was weeks ago and..." Ecco's memory floated by and with it, her stumbling to the street and finding a dark corner to unload her stomach like some homeless wretch. "...I'm a cook," she explained as she wiped the memory away, "and I could have tasted something off." Then, eager to gain his approval, or any reaction whatsoever beyond the mild disinterest he was gracing her with, she added: "I work at Antoine's." If he was impressed he didn't show it, which bruised her ego a little.

“Your friend mentioned weight gain?”

“Just a little,” she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Her dresses had been adjusted twice now but that wasn’t because she was enormous, only because she enjoyed a perfect fit.

“Mood swings? Cravings - that sort of thing?”

“Yeah but I have a stressful job,” she tried to gloat again. "It can be hectic at times." Again, he didn't react other than a mild "hmmm" which was disappointing. God, how much weight did I gain? she thought, a little deflated. Sure, I'm no staggering beauty like Sarah but I’m practically invisible to this man. 

“A fluttering you say…”

“Yes. Like bubbles.”

“Hmmm…”

Polleux gave Sadie a look and Sadie looked back, silent and unblinking.

“Miss Ricci, I think it’s safe to say you’re pregnant.”

Savigne blinked at him, then grinned and giggled with childish delight. “Very funny. I know you read my file, doctor.” He was flirting with her after all and that gave her a hefty boost of confidence.

His brows pinched and he opened her folder again. “What did I miss?”

“I was told the ship I arrived on had a typical outbreak of cholera a few days in. But the real kicker was the smallpox that broke out after.”

“Yes, I see.” He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as if he expected further explanation. “I mean…I almost died. Most of the passengers died.” His expression didn’t change at all. “Doctor Polleux," she cleared her throat. If he had a sense of humor, it was as dry as the Sahara. "I'm sure you're pulling my leg because we both know I can’t get pregnant.”

Those cool professional hazel eyes assessed her for a long moment. 

“Who told you that?” was his late flat question.

“I’m sorry?” she stammered. 

“Who told you that…” he repeated calmly and added “…nonsense?”

This threw her off and she struggled to find a response. Either he was exceptionally gifted at delivering dead pan jokes or he wasn't nearly as good of a doctor as he pretended to be.

Clearly ‘Sister Rodriguez’ would be a ridiculous answer so instead she opted to mutter a defensive “Everybody knows that.”

He gave her an owlish blink and closed her file.

A short silence ensued.

“There is no direct correlation between smallpox and female fertility,” he said carefully.

Something coiled around Savigne’s throat and started tightening.

“W-what?”

“There is no link. Scientific link. I know there are some midwives tales, but they’re incorrect,” he said calmly. "It might have made you less fertile but clearly it hasn’t made you sterile. While not the only criteria, the fact that you bleed indicates you’re fertile.”

“I bleed very irregularly,” she quickly countered.

“Indicates perhaps low fertility. But not infertility.”

She looked at him like he was speaking in tongues. “That’s…you’re clearly mistaken.”

He shifted in his seat, gently reached out to place the files on a nearby table. “I understand this comes as a surprise to you,” he said slowly, “and I’m trying to be…delicate. But there is no in between or 'a little bit' here. You are pregnant.”

“I can’t be!” she lobed back, now skidding dangerously close to irritation and panic.

His eyes, soft and warm when he had entered, hardened a little. He seemed to take her objection as an affront to science itself.

“Miss Ricci, I’m going to be direct…”

What the hell were you until now? she thought sourly.

“…unless you swallowed a pocket watch, there’s an extra heartbeat in your abdomen.”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

He calmly studied her as her hyperventilating picked up speed.

"Check again! Please!"

"Certainly." The stethoscope was pulled out again and he meticulously listened to her abdomen as Savigne watched him with hawk-like attention and a growing sense of dread. 

He cleared his throat and put it away.

"I stand by my diagnosis."

The room darkened and brightened back up as if something monstrous had flown in front of the sun.

“This is...can't be," she panted. 

"Would you like to hear?" he held out the earpieces to her and she recoiled as if he had slapped her. "No!"

"I would," Sadie spoke up. 

She crouched down as Polleux offered her the headset and under Savigne's disbelieving stare, listened intently, then grinned up at her. There was a forlorn look in Sadie's eyes and it only disappeared when Savigne angrily slapped the bell on ther stomach aside. Sadie cleared her throat and moved back to her spot as the man sat back in his chair.

"Judging by your reaction, this was not planned," he remarked. "I'm sorry to hear that. I’m going to give you a few minutes with your friend.” He rose to his feet. “I will be back.”

The monster flew across the sun again Savigne felt herself go boneless on the chair.

“You faintin’ again?!” Sadie remarked above her and next thing she knew, she had grabbed a book from the shelf to fan her face. “Listen here,” she hissed, then softened her tone, “Savigne, honey, calm down, okay?”

“I can’t be pregnant,” she mumbled. Moving her lips was an entire endeavor. The dark spots were back.

“Well…” Sadie chuckled nervously, “…gonna have to go with the doctor I paid fifty fuckin’ bucks for on that one.”

Savigne tried to speak but words wouldn’t come out. Her mind went blank every time she tried to think about it; like it was so big, it wouldn't fit into her head. “I can’t,” she tried again. She hadn’t bled in a long time and she had gained weight and also her breasts had been sensitive for months now, but these were all fragments, tiny brush strokes on a painting, how could they add up to a child? She had been sexually active since she was a young girl. True that it hadn't been nowhere near as rampant and consistent as it was with Arthur, and true that her previous partners had pulled out more often than not…but still!

“Remember, children,” droned Sister Auchter in her spinning head, “the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. It is vain to do with more what can be done with less.”

“Calm down. It’s fine.”

“How…the fuck…” Savigne panted, “…is…it fine?!”

“Don’ make me hit you with this book,” Sadie hissed, fanning furiously. “Will, if I have to.”

She wheezed for air and loosened her top buttons, too. Impossible, she thought and yet, deep deep down, in the dark folds of her gut where instinct ruled, somehow it rang true.

She almost erupted into laughter at the absurdity of her situation. A child out of wedlock! Worst thing a woman could do to herself. A scarlet letter that she had hung around her own neck. And now of all times! The room did a full flip and settled down again.

The other shoe, she thought then as her humor curdled into misery. Has to be. Bad news come in threes. 

“It’s okay,” Sadie crouched down and grabbed the back of her head to press her face against a shoulder. “It’s fine. Breathe.”

Savigne exploded into sobs. “Oh my god! I want to die.”

“The hell?!” was the other woman’s gentle scolding. “Settle down. What if it was TB or somethin'?”

“At least that would kill me,” she cried harder.

“Hush sugar, just calm down. We’ll think of something, okay?”

“That’s right,” Savigne whispered hastily as she pulled back, “I heard there are places we can go! Doctors that will-”

Sadie gave her a look. “No.”

Savigne’s face fell. “What do you mean, no?”

“You know how many women come out those feet first?!” was the vehement hiss. “Ya gonna have to shoot me before I let you go near!”

“But…but…I can’t shoot!” Savigne wailed.

"Just breathe. Easy. Calm. Breathe."

Sometime later the door opened and closed again. 

“Miss Ricci,” said the doctor, settling in his chair across from her again as Sadie vacated it. He handed her an immaculately clean handkerchief. “I understand your worries. You might think this is the end for you, but you’d be surprised how many women come here in your condition. You are not alone.”

She wiped her face furiously and cried harder. “Can you give me something? A…a remedy?”

“No. You’re too far along. Heartbeat audible with a stethoscope means at least twelve weeks, probably more. Any concoction someone might offer you is likely to kill you. Do not - I repeat - NOT drink it.”

“Hand the damn thing over!” she sobbed.

The doctor and Sadie exchanged a look. “I’ll never understand why this country is so damn…puritanical,” he sighed and scraped his chair closer. “Young lady,” he started as if he wasn't a only a year or two older at most. “I understand you’re not married. Personally, I don’t give a damn. I’m a doctor, not a priest. Now…let’s be pragmatic. Is the father still in the picture?”

“He will be. He’s away,” Sadie piped up.

“That’s good,” he remarked.

“I will kill him when he returns!” Savigne yelped.

“I would rethink that strategy,” Dr. Polleux said drily. Then he turned to the blond woman: “Does she have others to lean on? I know she doesn’t have a biological family,” he sifted through the file.

“Course she has,” Sadie said, clenching her shoulder.

Savigne just cried and let them talk it out. Her head was reeling, everything was is shambles. Someone was standing in the room that was her mind with a sledgehammer and meticulously smashing every piece of furniture into smaller and smaller pieces until there was nothing but dust.

“Excellent! Women with experience in the matter?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. A little laudanum if she gets too worked up but keep it on the low end. I know it’s passed around like candy these days, but personally I don’t think it’s good for the baby. I recommend regular check-ins. And she is a little underdeveloped.” He eyed Savigne with some scrutiny. “There are maternity houses…”

“She ain’t goin’ there,” was Sadie’s sharp interruption. “Like I said, she got people.”

“I admit…I wouldn’t recommend it,” Polleux said with some resignation. “One hears barbaric things. But it would at least be a safe birth and if she doesn’t want the baby…”

“No maternity house for Savigne,” Sadie squared her feet as if she was going to get into a fistfight with the doctor over it.

“I’m glad for that. If money is an issue…I have sent many unwed mothers to the workhouse.”

“She good,” Sadie growled. “We got money, too.”

“I know she’s working but she might not be able to much longer. In this country, for whatever reason, that’s a scandal. I’ve seen mothers work in fields all over the world but here we get hung up on such things.” He turned to Savigne again. “You will start to show soon,” he said calmly and ignored her whimper of disbelief. “Only reason you haven’t already is because you’re undernourished and it’s your first. Your stomach muscles haven’t expanded before. But that will change very quickly. If you must, stick a ring on your finger and lie would be my suggestion. Wouldn’t fly in a small town but in Saint Denis, nobody knows their neighbors’ name.”

He watched her cry for a while longer, his face calm and composed. No sympathy but also a complete lack of judgement. “Of course I suggest you do it for real when the father returns, so he can claim the child. Otherwise things might get…complicated for both of you.”

“But I can’t have a baby!” Savigne sobbed miserably. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a baby?”

“Miss Ricci," he pushed his spectacles up with the faintest impatience, "I hope you’re not making a case for immaculate conception.”

“No but…”

“Or claim that you don't know how babies are made.” Savigne decided that she didn't like Doctor Polleux after all. Not even a little bit.

"I want a second opinion!" she spat. 

"Sure, that's your prerogative. Like I said, I stand by my diagnosis."

His complete confidence made her panic even more. “But…”

“Good news is that it’s only six months out - give or take.”

“Oh my god,” moaned Savigne, dizzy with overload. “What’s the fucking bad news?”

The doctor didn’t even flinch at the vulgarity, just looked at her, cool as a cucumber.

“Bad news is the same.”

“Thank you doctor,” Sadie said hastily and started to button up Savigne’s blouse. “We'll be back.”

The blond woman pulled Savigne to her feet and stuffed her arms into her coat, then hustled her out of the room. They stumbled through corridors and then back through the waiting room where Savigne’s clearly unwell state alerted the waiting patients and scared a child enough to make him burst into wails. Once they exited the clinic, Sadie turned her by the shoulders and propped her up against a wall. “Now listen, I need you to pull yerself together here! You’re pregnant, you ain't dyin’.”

“I can’t be! Sister Rodriguez said-”

“Bitch lied. Let’s go.” She grabbed Savigne’s arm and dragged her towards the horses.

The Saint Denis crowd parted around them, a sea of eyes brimming with curiosity, revulsion, sympathy at her state. Nothing felt as lonely and humiliating as being in a vulnerable state in a big city. People glanced at her like she was rude for crying in public, for making them uncomfortable and marring their perfect day. Women tsked with disapproval as they glided by and men averted their eyes, reluctant to shame her further. Don't you understand that it's crude to be upset in public? they said silently. That it's uncivilized to cry and moan out in the open? That’s what closed doors are for.

“Cheer up, sweetheart!” someone yelled.

“I'll cheer you up..." Sadie’s head snapped back, "you son of a..."

“She was a nun,” Savigne sobbed. “Nuns can’t lie.”

“Doctor didn’ even give you nothin’ and you gone stupid anyway.”

Savigne stopped in her tracks and forced her to stop, too. “What are we going to do?” she whispered with urgency, grabbing Sadie’s jacket.

“We gonna go back to camp,” she growled, peeling Savigne’s claws off herself, “Then we gonna eat. Then we talk.”

“But…”

“Asked n’ answered. Let’s go!” She dragged Savigne further down the street. For her size, Sadie was remarkably strong.

���Oh how dreadful!” was a tittering whisper from nearby.

“Then look away you ugly cow!” Sadie yelled before she turned back to Savigne and jabbed her head at Cricket: “Up you go. Preferably before I shoot someone.”

Savigne wiped her palms over her face, took a deep shuddering breath and put a foot in the stirrup. Then she blinked and looked over her shoulder: “How come you’re so calm?”

“I knew,” was the dry retort. 

“W-what?”

“I know what a woman with child looks like,” she glared. “My babies never grew full. But I been there. Three times.”

Savigne slowly climbed up the saddle and somehow found the decency to feel a little abashed. “I’m sorry.”

There was a curt nod. “‘M sorry too, Savigne, I am. Sorry y’aint ready. Sorry yer dumb man ran off. Sorry you had nobody around you honest. Or nobody to teach you. Cry about it, sure. I know I did. For my babies and Jake. Cry about it long as you need. But then you get up and go on. Life comes at you and you got no choice.”

“I can’t do this,” Savigne whimpered.

“You can and you will. Women been doing it since dawn of time. Your mom did it.”

“My mom wasn’t alone,” she hiccuped. “She had a husband.”

”First of all, y’aint alone. What the fuck am I? Furniture? Second, Arthur gonna come back.”

“We don't know that!” She flinched a little at the hard reaction in Sadie’s eyes.

“He ain’t dead," the blond woman hissed and inched closer to Cricket, her eyes blazing. "He was dead, I would have to give ya his bag, don’ I?” She shook Arthur’s satchel in Savigne’s face, her sisterly patience clearly running thin. “Y’aint gettin’ it cause he ain’t dead. Maybe will be by my hand or yours when he come back, that’s a different story. Now…” she swung herself up into the saddle and gave Savigne a fiery glare that didn’t brook arguments. “Camp. Food. Talk. Let’s go!”

She rode on and Savigne swayed on the saddle and turned Cricket to follow.

He had never been homesick before. Probably because, discounting the hellhole he had ran away from as a child, he never actually had a home. His home had been the gang and for over twenty years, he had never been apart from it. Even now, in this godforsaken place, he was with them. And yet, he was homesick. A deep painful yearning was burning through his gut, threatening to bore a hole through him as he longed for his tent. Not the old cot he had slept on for years. His tent of barely six months.

He sat apart from the others, elbows on raised knees, back against a crumbling ruin of a wall, trying to to ignore the sunburn that was blistering his skin and the dizziness dancing behind his eyes. That proved to be easier to ignore than Dutch's incessant droning in the background and the homesickness in his gut.

Turns out, washing up on a shore a thousand miles away with nothing but the clothes on your back and the bruise of colossal failures in your heart gave you a hell of a perspective.

Hindsight was cruel; there was little of value to be found in that garden of regret. But, spurred by his thirst for pain, he went digging anyway. He thought of Luther and he dug that bitter soil every day, every hour of every day. And just like Luther, he reached the same revolting truth:

Vanity.

Vanity had watched him from the corner of the room as he argued alongside Hosea to Dutch, all the while smiling coyly at his hubris. Vanity had cooed encouragement into his ear as he had lied on the bedroll the night before, thinking the plan was solid and doable and most importantly - his ticket out. Vanity had squeezed his shoulders and cheered him on as he sat that morning to watch Savigne ride away and Vanity had insisted all would be well. No trouble, Vanity had whispered, no worries, no hesitation. Hesitation is defeat. It had held his coat as he dressed up, had sat on the saddle behind him on Frost as he rode out, had followed him step by step when he fled from the gunfire and had crouched next to him in that deserted building as they waited for nightfall, purring that it wasn't over yet. Vanity had aided his steps as he boarded the ship and the next morning when he stood at the banister to watch the endless stretch of water, drifting away from everything that had any value to him, Vanity had stood with him and soothed his regrets. Vanity had woken him on a strange shore and urged him to go on, to fight, to try, to live. For what? To amuse me, little boy, Vanity smiled. To entertain me. To please me.

The colossal pompousness of thinking his participation was going to prevent another Blackwater! His gut had advised caution but his arrogance had won out. In the end, his arrogance always won out.

Now it was time to feast on the fruit of that arrogance: the loss of his home; the loss of a future with the woman he loved; the loss of a friend and last but not least: the staggering loss of a parent.  

But, in this vast dark ocean of despair, a single source of consolation: Savigne didn't need him anymore.

Truthfully, she never had. Her independence had been the source, the inception point of his desire for her in the first place. The way she had come and gone to camp, full with her own purpose. Her steadfast march through life. He was just the brute who had saved her from other brutes. And now that the last of them was rotting in a swamp, his mission was complete, his role fulfilled. She could finally ride on and prosper. Perhaps she would get that dinner shift. Perhaps she would go to New York. Maybe she would meet a man like Dunham. She had Luther, she had Sadie, she had his money and she would be happy. Hosea had told him that making her happy would make him happy and in a twisted, ironic way he had been right. He just hadn't known that the price of making her happy was removing himself from her life.

In this, at least, he had accidentally succeeded.

A hand landed on his shoulder and a water canteen appeared in front of his face. "Son," Dutch sighed and dropped down next to him. "How are you holding up?"

"'M fine," he rasped and took a swallow. 

"What a shithole," Dutch muttered, leaning his head back on the broken wall.

"Don' like islands no more?" Arthur chuckled bitterly as he took another mouthful. 

"I have to admit," the older man drawled, "The plan is going to need changing."

They sat in silence for a long while. The heat was as bad as Lemoyne heat because it had a habit on settling on everything like dust. There was no escaping from it in the shade, in the open, wet or dry. It was in your eyes, your lungs, between your toes.

"We need to get off this island," Dutch said at last. "Hercule says he can provide us a boat."

Arthur didn't answer. He wasn't interested in getting off the island. He had made peace with the fact that this was his final destination. 

"We need to get back to our people."

They better off without us, he thought but didn't say it. It was simply too hot to argue.

His silence must have bothered Dutch enough to push on: "They need us."

They need us like they need the plague.

His huff of amusement stirred Dutch: "You disagree?"

He sluggishly scratched his beard. "If you say so, Dutch."

"I know you're tired. God knows I am, too. But if we stay here, we will die."

That's the plan. Better than any of yer shit plans, that's for sure. Turns out, better than mine, too.

Dutch flustered a little at his non engagement. "He was like a brother to me," he offered at last. It was a seldom moment of sincerity for Dutch and Arthur took a deep breath and nodded and hoped that would be the end of it but of course he wasn't that lucky. "But we have people depending on us! You have people depending on you!"

Any other day, this would infuriate him. This cheap attempt to dangle Savigne in front of his nose to make him get up and trudge on. Today it only amused him. That's the thing, he thought, she don’ depend on me and she don’ need me. In fact, she better off without me. I played my part in her life, I killed that asshole and cleared the ladder for her. Now all she gotta do is climb and all I gotta do is die.

Dutch prattled on and on but Arthur hardly listened. There was a vast sadness in him, for things that would never be, but also gratitude for things that were. He hadn't managed to touch that untouchable thing - a family of his own - but he had come very, very close. And somehow, in the mayhem that was his life, he had stumbled upon a woman to allow himself to be vulnerable with; and when he had unwrapped his heart to her, she had handled it with care and tenderness. If that was all that was in store for him, so be it. It was more than he deserved.

Night crawled in and the music of the jungle changed. Dutch left his side at some point and at some other point he was given something to eat and he chewed on it listlessly. He wasn’t hungry but it helped to pass the time. Then true dark set in and he was looking forward to it, because night meant sleep and sleep meant dreaming. The same dream he had had since he had fallen into this hellhole. He wasn’t interested in escaping from the island, but he was very happy to escape from reality.

He stumbled to his hammock and lied in it, swinging and watching the stars, waiting for his eyes to grow heavy. Waiting for sleep to end the nightmare that was the day. And eventually, it did. 

Their tent stood before him, in this perpetually repeating dream, location unspecific and unimportant. What was important was the tent and what it stood for - home. White drapes hitched to the ground, firm enough so they wouldn’t blow in the summer breeze, but loose enough to let the air in. The thicker maroon canvas rolled up and tied off. In his dream, it was always summer. Maybe because that’s when he had built it. Some indeterminate time between twilight and the earliest hours of daybreak. 

Instantly he was in front of it, pushing open the flap to step in. The light in here was a muted blue, as if the tent was encased in ice. The covers on the bed were piled up and he knew she was there. A feeling of deep pleasure surged through him, cool in contrast to the hot flare of his homesickness. He unbuckled his gun belt and in the dream, it didn’t jingle. Then the belt of his trousers. One by one he peeled off all his clothes.

Then he carefully crawled on the bed and lifted the covers. A flash of her toffee skin, the curve of her buttocks, the slope of her hip. In reality, Savigne rarely slept naked. She claimed that if something unexpected happened and they suddenly had to run out, she would die of shame if she was naked. He remembered bursting into laughter at her admittance and he also fondly remembered how annoyed she had been at his mirth. But in the dream she was always naked. He moved the covers further: the gentle indentations of her spine, the soft shoulders and the waves of dark locks. He slid in behind her and settled against her back. This was his favorite position and maybe that’s why he dreamed about it so often. She was smaller and fit perfectly into his chest. He tucked an arm under his pillow as his other hand glided over her hip, her waist, up an arm, then down to rest against a plush soft breast and he spread his fingers to gently grasp it. 

She stirred a little and took a deep breath. Her skin was smooth and soft. He kissed her neck as he shifted to adjust behind her with little to no gap. Her hair smelled of lavender, the way it had when she had first approached him in Valentine way back when, but her skin smelled of lemon drops and that was new. He paused at the change, cautious. The dream was precious to him and the last thing he wanted was a deviation, a disfigurement, a change to it. Because it was perfect as it was. 

She sighed and dreamily grasped his forearm, her clutch weak with sleep. In his dream he somehow knew it was Sunday and the whole day was ahead of them, so he didn’t want to wake her yet. But when she did wake, he would make love to her, slow and lazy and he felt his cock between them harden at the thought. Then they would sleep some more, eat breakfast and go to Valentine. And there, in that warm pool of water he would make love to her again - this time rough and aggressive. His appetite and need for her never waned and he was fascinated by that. Why had that first tryst in the woods not been the end of it? Why had he circled back again and again, unable to stay away? It had to be the curse of good things in life.

“Welcome back,” she mumbled as he kissed her shoulder. 

Then suddenly the dream diverged again, sharply this time, because she said “You’re late, Arthur.”

He froze for a moment, finding himself in unfamiliar territory and not happy about it. This was all he had left and he liked it fine the way it was. Although it wasn't unpleasant, he didn't like that she smelled like lemon drops and he didn't like that she spoke those words. Before he could dwell on it though, she mumbled “Don’t smush the grub”. 

He blinked in confusion. “What d’ya mean?” he whispered, alert and wary.

She sleepily tugged at his hand resting on her breast and guided it to her belly. She pressed his palm flat on her pear shaped bump and folded her hand over his to keep it in place. He rose on his elbow in surprise. Under his fingers, the tremble of a rabbit heart, soft and hurried.

“The grub,” she murmured.

In his gut, currents turned, collided, swirled, spiraled and converged to form the point of a vortex. It grew and grew and expanded into a maelstrom that yawned open with quiet force. And in its dark center blossomed a dazzling flower of understanding. 

Arthur flinched awake and the hammock rocked wildly as he struggled to sit up. 

“Can’t be,” he mumbled softly into the thick cacophony of bug chorus. A sharp shake of his head to disperse the spell of sleep followed. The dream unfurled and blew apart like an apparition as he clutched at it. “Can’t be,” he said again, mouth dry. 

And yet, in his gut, it felt true. An instinctual certainty, like lining up cross hairs on a moving target and knowing the exact moment the bullet would fly true. 

He fell back into the hammock and gulped deep breaths of the soupy air. He ran his hands over his face and then wiped the sticky film of sweat on his shirt. His heart hammered in his chest as the dream lifted and evaporated. It was still dark and the only sounds were the chirping of bugs, the croaking of frogs and the snoring of the other men. He shifted in the hammock and straightened a little to settle back in, but he knew he wouldn't sleep again. He lied there and thought and thought, and the more he thought, the more it seemed true. He thought on the little things and he thought on the big things. His mind flooded with memories, by themselves subtle and tenuous like wispy strings. But when he lined them up and coiled them together, there was a solid, firm rope in his hands. No wonder my plans derail, he huffed a quiet chuckle of disbelief to himself, 'm blind as a bat. 

It’s a dream, let it go, his head tried feebly. You’re just spinning tales.

But his gut held firm: you're going to be a father.

Rapture exploded and expanded in his chest and he took a slow, deep breath as it burned through him with blinding heat. He lied dazzled and faint as a tidal wave of pleasure rolled over him. And then another. And then one more. 

But underneath those waves: a dark undertow:

He had left his woman and his child behind, defenseless and alone.

Again.

The notion prickled the hair on his arms like the advent of a thunderstorm.

Years later the spiral voyage of his life had turned the same bend. Maybe the mere irony of fate. Or maybe a test of capricious gods to see if this time he would choose differently.

And he had chosen the same.

He scrambled out of the hammock, fully awake now and stood weak and trembling for long minutes, grateful that everyone else was fast asleep. Then he grabbed the half empty packet of cigarettes and walked away from camp on shaky legs.

Dark thoughts clawed at him. All this time he had convinced himself that she didn't need him. That his part in her life was complete. That she was better off without him. For days now he had taken countless casual risks, had tempted death, even chased it every time he had popped out behind a wall or a tree to shoot back just a little too early or had remained in the open just a little too long. His steps faltered as he realized that an enormous calamity had swum by him like a great shark in dark waters and he hadn’t even known, merely now felt the wake of its departure. His vision blurred with the afterthought. Because alone maybe she would have moved on and prospered. But a woman with child? His child?

The shark hadn’t swum by after all. It was merely circling.

What man would darken their door? Micah? O’Driscolls? Another group of drunk vagabonds? Come to bruise and smother what he had neglected and abandoned. Come to hurt what he loved.

He stood breathing the thick air of the jungle and watched the blue of daybreak settle around him. A new day was dawning. The fever dream of the past week shriveled and dissolved and the fool who had wallowed in aimless self pity gasped his last breath. A great weight rolled off his shoulders. He shifted on his feet and and straightened his back. Made a promise to an asshole in a swamp, he thought. And ‘m damn right gonna keep it.

Hercule heard the approaching steps and rose a little to see who it was. It’s the runt of the litter, the sickly man, he thought when Arthur strode out from under the trees and headed towards him. Only he didn’t look so sickly today. Today he looked like a whole new man. Taller and bigger somehow, with a different gait.  “Can’t sleep?” Hercule asked as he fished out a cigarette from the offered package.

The American grunted affirmation as he lighted first Hercule’s cigarette, then his own.

He was curious why this blan, this white man approached him now. All these past days as they marched to lose the men following them, he had barely spoken, rarely eaten, never even met his gaze. He had just trudged around with the rest of the group and whenever they ran into trouble, his friends had slapped a gun in his hands and he had shot back. His marksmanship was spectacular, but it was obvious that his heart wasn’t in it. He just did it reflexively, as if this was his second nature, something he could do in his sleep. His compatriots treated him like a formidable warrior, but Hercule had been convinced he would die within the week. He had seen people give up before. They had that particular look in their eyes.

So when Arthur’s cool blue gaze locked with his now, he was naturally startled to see a different man looking out. His curiosity turned into intrigue.

“Different climate?” This wouldn’t be the first man who looked tough until he met the Jungle. 

“Got things on my mind,” the other man grimaced.

“Your people back home?” 

The man exhaled out a long cloud of smoke, nodded, then quickly glanced over his shoulder before he said “My family.” The timbre of pride was palpable and pulled a grin of approval from Hercule:

“Lucky man.”

They didn’t talk for a while, just watched the day break as they smoked. The jungle sloped downwards ahead of them, lush and thick as he watched a flock of parrots take flight. Hercule had run into all manner of folk in his life and he liked to think that he was a good judge of them. These Americans acted like a band of brothers, a pack. The fancy man, the cunning one was the leader of the pack. But interesting enough, this man here was no follower. No, he was his own wolf.

“You got kids?” he was asked suddenly.

“Unfortunately no,” Hercule mused. “My life too crazy for that right now. Some day, I hope. When all this is behind me.” Then, just because it was the polite thing to do: “You?”

Arthur squinted into the distance and took a moment before he uttered a confident “I will.”

Hercule resisted the urge to smack him on the shoulder. He got the feeling that this man didn’t like being touched. “Congratulations.”

The cowboy nodded, then turned and gave him an intense look.

“Tell me ‘bout this boat.”

He sobered at that. “I need a favor first.”

“Name it,” was the flat response.

“Fussar. He’s enslaving people. Exploiting them, using them. They live in horrible-”

Arthur’s hand waved away the rest like it was unimportant. “Name it,” he repeated.

He hesitated. A no nonsense man. Not interested in plight and tragedy, just here for a transaction. So be it, he thought. “I need him dead.”

A nod as he smoked and scanned the horizon line. “Anythin’ else?”

Hercule huffed a half chuckle despite himself. “My apologies,” he laughed. “I think I made it sound too easy. Fussar has a small army in his command.”

The blue eyes flicked at him and his grin dissipated. Yeah, forget the others. Forget the fancy leader. Or the one with the cruel eyes and the big belly. This was the man he needed in his corner. Because, if he asked it, this man would burn the world and light his cigarette on the embers. 

“You got guns?” was the casual question.

“Of course,” he licked his lips.

Another silence ensued. He watched the bigger man smoke and wondered if he had had a heatstroke earlier. He had looked pretty miserable and spent. Now he stood shouders rigid, oozing competence and confidence. In truth, Hercule had offered the boat in a moment of desperation and hadn’t been too concerned with keeping his word. Now he thought he damn better made sure to arrange it for real, because it wouldn’t do to cross this man.

”Get me them guns,” Arthur said as he crushed his stub under a heel. “And that boat. Fussar is dead. He just don’ know it yet.”

Hercule watched him turn and stride back to the ruins of the church. Over the years, he had met many who vowed the same. But this was the first time he actually believed it.

[justrainandcoffee]

The sound of silence (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) + (Alfie Solomons x Tommy Shelby)

Summary: Why did she agree? To make Alfie happy. Why did Tommy accept? Because love is blind. For two years they've been living under the same roof. She and Tommy sharing the same man... And the same misery. Love makes you feel happy, people say. They know it's not always true.

Warnings: Angst. ANGST. || Alfie is bigamous.|| Everyone here is miserable. || Mentions of killing and political corruption. Period typical homophobia. || Did I mention ANGST?

Words: 3.6k || Alfie masterlist

"Put a number."

There she was in front of a man making business with him to save her husband and his lover from a catastrophe.

"The newspaper is not for sale."

"Everything is for sale if you know what is good for you and your family. Put a fucking number."

The man was around 45 years old and that money was synonymous with an earlier retirement. Silence had a price and his newspaper, too.

"Twenty-five grand."

"I'll make 27 and I'll guarantee that your ass is safe, as long as you learn to keep your mouth shut. Do we have an agreement, Mr. Donovan?"

"Yes, Mrs. Solomons."

"If you open your mouth, a bullet will open your fucking brain. Do you understand, right?"

"I do, Mrs. Solomons. I do."

First she signed the papers that made her the legal owner of the most important newspaper in London and then, she gave him the cheque. If 27,000 pounds didn't make him be quiet and understood the kind of people were behind her, then violence will. But that was the last choice.

Two policemen started their days with a bullet in their hearts and an inspector appeared drown in the Thames. But they were just isolated accidents: thieves and a suicide. That's what the newspaper was going to say the following morning.

No mentions of the fucking party.

Solomons-Shelby was an alliance that could make the King shit on his throne. And the leaders of both bands were fucking in the same bed.

-Two years ago-

Alfie liked him. Rose knew it the moment her husband started to talked nonstop about the Birmingham man as soon as they met and for the first time ever she experienced jealousy. Until Thomas Shelby appeared, Alfie never put his eyes on anyone else but her.

"I love you, Rosie."

"…but you also love him."

Alfie didn't like him. Alfie loved him.

"Do you want the divorce?"

The words shattered her own heart. The idea of a life without her Alfie sounded like millions of knives in her soul. They were always him and her against the world, since they were kids. Always. Silent tears started to run down her cheeks, but she kept looking at him.

"Fuck! No! I can't live without you, Rosie. Don't ask me that again! I love you."

"Do you?"

"Like always."

"Did you cheat on me with him?"

"No. Not even once."

"Did you fantasize about fucking him?" she continued asking. But this time Alfie didn't answer. Rose bit her lower lip and nodded "You did."

Rose demanded to meet the man in question. She didn't expect to see what she saw. The man in front of him was the kind of person that God put on Earth to make other doubt about themselves. And Rose, was one of them. Took her little to nothing to understand why her husband for years, her forever love, suddenly appeared in their house with someone else in his mind.

She agreed because she didn't want to see Alfie lost in a world where he craved for a touch she couldn't give him. She agreed because the last thing Rose wanted was to see the person he loved the most being sad. She agreed because she didn't want to lose him.

The first night Alfie spent with Thomas Shelby, Rose did it crying in their bed praying for that was just a bad dream.

"I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to leave you," he said over and over again when he returned the next morning. She was laying on him, both of them in his favourite couch, while his arms were around her. "I don't know how to say this anymore, but I love you, sweetheart. I swear I love you."

Rose nodded "I know."

She was a proud woman and even when it was Alfie, Rose didn't want to show weakness. She wasn't weak, even if she was broken.

Seeing her, Alfie promised himself that the previous night with Tommy it was going to be the first and last at the same time. Rose could put her mask of strong woman, but Alfie was the only one she couldn't fool. The woman next to him, was once the little girl that committed shenanigans with him. Alfie grew up knowing how she lied. He knew how to read her easily. And she was lying.

The man cupped her face and kissed her. Slowly with tenderness. He loved her and the last thing he wanted was to make her suffer.

"I love you. Tell me you believe me, Rosie."

"I do."

No, she didn't. She didn't believe him.

"Just give me time, Alfie," she said reading his mind.

"How could you doubt that I love you?"

"I don't know what I believe anymore... I'm still trying to understand why did you slept with someone else. And why I agreed."

Because Tommy Shelby is a demigod, her mind said. Of course Alfie chose him.

"It won't happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

.

Tommy couldn't deny his feelings anymore. The amount of prostitutes he slept with, because supposedly that was something men did, couldn't be compared with what happened with the other man in that house he bought in London. It was a small, cozy house that was bought with the sole purpose of fuck with Alfie there. And that was what happened the night before.

He was smoking still in bed, alone and thinking about him. Alfie was married to a woman and Tommy knew Alfie could kill for her. Tommy knew very well that his friend never was going to leave Rose, not for obligation due to the marriage vows, but because he was still in love with her.

To society, she was his wife. Rose was the woman he could walk through the city and no one was going to ask a thing. Alfie was free to hold hands with her and kiss in public. They even made a cute couple. The way his eyes shone when he talked about her and the special way he had to say "My Rosie."

But him, Tommy, he was a fuck in a house after midnight when no one was in the streets. And during day he was Solomons' business partner, the gangster leader of Peaky Blinders. The one who never was going to be anything but a pal.

Tommy started to dress to return to Birmingham. Suddenly he felt like a whore, too.

Nothing but a whore, his mind said.

But Rose was right. Alfie couldn't keep his hands off Tommy. Even if he resisted the temptation the first weeks after their first encounter, Alfie and Tommy found themselves in the same situation more than once. And the most time they spent together, the more in love they fell.

Alfie never hide it from her. Alfie was ready to stop if she didn't consent that anymore. In her whole life, Rose never wanted more to yell at him, to beg him to stop seeing the other man. To even shook him. But she lowered her head and agreed once again because his husband was happy. And also agreed to receive Tommy in her house, to live with them.

Agreed to share the meals with him. To see Alfie's eyes looking at him with love.

Agreed to divide the time she shared with Alfie, and that once was only hers, with another person.

In the next two years she lost her husband as such, her self-esteem, her voice and her smile.

Now

"I bought the newspaper," Rose said entering the house. Tommy and Alfie were in the same table, drinking tea. Or at least her husband was drinking tea. "Donovan won't be a problem. I'm sure."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

"Don't thank me, Alfie. I hope next time you two decide to go to a party, at least check that it's not a fucking trap," she left her coat on a chair and removed her shoes. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired I don't want to be mean… I'm tired. Just that. Don't mind me."

Both men saw her go upstairs to her and Alfie's bedroom.

"Maybe you should go too and check on her," Tommy said. "She's upset."

"I know that. She's my wife!"

"Well, then do something. Today is her turn, after all. And she started her day saving our asses. My ass, especially because she saved me just because of you."

Her turn.

Alfie followed his wife's steps upstairs hearing Tommy's voice. He was right, but doesn't meant it was pleasant to hear. It never was Rose's turn, same way it never was Tommy's turn like if his heart switched to one person to another. One could say that it was perfect to have two people to love living under the same roof. If one got mad, then the other could be willing to open the arms. The double of sex. But it wasn't the case, real life didn't work that way. And lovely as it sounded, it was also tiresome. And not just physically.

"I'm not in the mood," she said when he entered the bedroom.

"I know, sweetheart."

Two years passed and she learnt to be in silence when she wanted to scream. At him. At Tommy. At herself for being so stupid.

The daylight contributed to her bad mood so she closed the windows and let the darkness embrace her. Rose sat down in bed and let out a deep sigh, rubbing her face with her hands.

"I miss you, ya know?" Alfie said sitting at her side. "I miss you, Rosie."

"Mmh. I'm right here, Alfie."

"You're not."

It took them a while to make an agreement. Alfie could spend one week with each of them, doing whatever they want. Watching movies, having sex, killing people, whatever they wanted to do but away from the other part of the fucked triangle they now belonged. It was a great deal for Tommy because he was free to be with the man he loved in the big city that London was, and had time to return to Birmingham to take care of his business. But it wasn't so great for Rose who had to spend her week alone surrounded by her own thoughts in a house that was too big just for her and the dogs. And when it was the time to be with her husband, she felt exhausted.

Alfie touched her hair with his fingertips and caressed her jawline, too. It was hard to think that for him, but he couldn't ignore it anymore, although it was easier to think she was just tired. But Alfie had to come to terms with himself and admit that he didn't see her smile in a long time.

She was always a happy person, anyone who knew her for sure heard her laugh. How many times the two of them were reprimanded by teachers because they couldn't stop giggling? And not so many years ago, the quiet hours together usually were interrupted by Rose's laugh because he told her something that happened in the distillery or because they were commenting something they heard in the radio. Or Cyril's shenanigans. But now, even if he tried, Alfie couldn't remember seeing her smiling.

And they didn't make love in months.

"My women killed the policemen and the inspector. No one will suspect and no one will ask a thing. But I expect that next time you be more careful, Alfie."

"Tommy will repay you the money you waste on us."

"I don't want it. But if it makes him feel better he can make a donation for the school."

"A donation will be, then. Luv, I was thinking that we can go to a pretty restaurant tonight. There's a kosher one, it's new. Ollie told me that it's quite good."

"Okay."

Alfie kissed her cheek "no matter what you think, I still love you and I'll love you till my last day."

Rose gulped to make disappear the knot in her throat and nodded. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"I know, Alfie."

The man hesitated for a second before putting an arm around her. She was so tense that it felt like moving a piece of furniture to him. For a moment she didn't reciprocate the embrace, but when Alfie moved his body to let her go, her hands grasped to his shirt and hid her face on his shoulder.

"Don't leave me," her voice was broken and the tears she was holding were wetting his chest.

"You know I would never leave you."

"I don't know anything about us anymore, Alfie. But please, don't leave me."

Downstairs, Tommy was smoking. Last thing he wanted was to break the precarious situation the three of them were in. The invitation was on Ada's table when he visited her earlier that week, probably belonged to Ada's roommate. It seemed to be harmless and when he commented it to Alfie, he agreed. There were no places for them to go as couple and for once, it seemed to be a good opportunity, only it wasn't. Homosexual parties weren't uncommon but it was risky. Numerous times, men ended in the gallows thanks to the laws. But that was London and his partner wasn't someone else but Alfie Solomons and he could buy freedom because of money or because of fear.

Tommy didn't dare to see the faces of the other men who were still in the police station, when both of them left the building. How many of them were going to die just because they were experiencing happiness one night in their lives?

Tommy remembered Rose's face when Alfie woke her up at 4am when they arrived at the house. She didn't say a word and to be honest with himself, Tommy never heard her say a lot although it was well known by people around the Solomons, that she was talkative as much as Alfie was. The woman went to her office in the house and made some phonecalls. She had her own people, all women, behind her to protect the school she founded. And those women never hesitate to follow her orders.

Killing the cops was a way to say the rest of the police department that better they keep their tongues tied. Same with the former owner of the newspaper.

Tommy lighted up another cigarette. What was he next to her? Alfie's wife sent three men to hell and a fourth one was threatened, just to protect her husband's name. And his. He was part of the man she married now and Tommy didn't know if she was going to do something like that for him, again

Or how much time Alfie was going to be able to bear with that kind of life. In Tommy's mind, if Alfie was going to choose someone then it was going to be her. But he didn't want that.

.

Allowing Alfie to touch her again, it felt good. Especially because he was sweet with her. Maybe it was true he missed her.

He was on top if her, kissing her neck and stroking her sides. That was the life they deserved to have but after knowing Tommy, after tasting him, she wasn't sure if she was enough for Alfie.

How much self-esteem was a man capable destroy?

Outdoors she fought for women's rights, freedom, fuck the patriarchy, down with men.

Indoors, she was ready to share her husband if that meant to remain on his side. And the only thing she had to sell was her own happiness.

"You promised me a life full of love," she said, later, in his arms. "We were kids. We were in love and I believe you."

"I promised you a lot of things and I'm fulfilling none."

"Not true. You did but I'm not the only one in your heart anymore. It's not your fault that you fell in love with him, too."

Alfie kissed her once again. It wasn't fair for her, among the three of them she was the one who gave in the more.

"I'd give my life to see you smile again, Rosie. My Rosie."

.

"How's she?" Tommy asked when Alfie went downstairs, once his wife finally fall asleep.

"I don't know."

"I did tell you or I didn't that this was going to break her? It was a fucking bad idea from the very beginning."

"What do you want me to tell ya, Tom? Eh? I fucking love you! And it didn't seem that bad the first time to you, not even last night. Fuck off!"

"I love you too, Alfie. I do, but this is not working. Your wife is a ghost of the woman I know she was, you don't know how manage two partners and I-… I feel like a homewrecker."

Alfie sat on his couch and petted Cyril's head who seemed to be the only one happy in that house. "You're not."

"Are you sure?"

"There's a reason I gave you a ring, Tom."

Tommy looked at his hand. It happened around eight months ago. No one were going to notice that he was using another ring, considering he wore several ribgs all the time. They were in bed when Alfie pulled out a little velvet box from the nightstand table and gave it to him. That was the moment Alfie became bigamous. One marriage was legal and open to society, the other no and belonged to the shadows and the solitude of their room.

Only Rose noticed the extra ring, but she didn't say anything. Like it was usual. Tommy too remained silent in several occasions and even Alfie didn't let his mind speak as it was common to him.

In the Solomons-Shelby household, most of the time the only thing that could be heard was the silence.

.

It was midnight that same day when Rose heard noises downstairs, but neither Cyril or Beast were barking, so she asumed the one making noises was Tommy. Rose put her nightgown on and went to the living room, she found Tommy packing.

"To Birmingham?"

"Yes." Tommy looked at her, before closing his suitcase. "Forever."

"You can't."

"Tell me why can't I, Rose. It's my fucking life."

"He loves you."

"No more than he loves you. Let's be honest, Rose, you want me out of your lives." Tommy put his coat on and searched his cigarettes in one of his pockets.

The woman embraced herself and nodded. "I do. But Alfie could be miserable again because no matter what I do for him, I'm not you. I'm not God's best creation, I'm not smart as you are, I don't have your eyes, I can't be all you are even if I reborn a thousand times. He chose you and if roles were reversed, if you were the spouse and me "the other one" I don't think he'd do all the things he did for you."

"Then, you're belittling yourself. Your husband is capable to fight the Devil for you."

"Because I'm his best fr…"

"Because you're his fucking soulmate, Rose!! And that's something I'm never going to be. Don't underestimate yourself anymore, because I know very well the way he talks about you when he's with me and that's something he doesn't do when he's with you… FUCK!" Tommy threw the cigarette on the floor. "Rosie this, Rosie that… and I know he doesn't mention me when you two are together because he doesn't want to hurt you. But he hurts me."

She sat on a chair and looked at him. "I don't think he does that on purpose."

"No, he does not. But he still does it. So, I better leave before it's too late to leave."

"If you go, he'll go after you. He's also your husband, right? The ring. You don't need a legal paper to prove that. Not in front of me."

Tommy shook his head.

"Go to bed," she said. "Tomorrow it'll be a new day."

Rose turned around, not waiting for an answer. She entered the bathroom before returning to bed with Alfie. She stared herself in the mirror. The woman looking at her wasn't the one she knew once. That one was a pathetic version of the woman she used to be proud of.

But she wasn't there to feel even more pathetic. She was there to do something else. Rose looked at the mirror again and she practiced how to smile. For Alfie, she thought, trying once again. And her eyes were filled with sadness, but she kept trying until got a smile like the ones she used to have.

The next morning when Alfie went to the dinning room he found Tommy reading the newspaper, the one under new management, and Rose having her usual breakfast.

"Good morning, Alfie," Tommy said.

Alfie greeted him too and sat next to Rose who was looking at him.

"Like you practice…" the woman thought and gave Alfie her best smile she could. "Morning, Al."

Alfie kissed her forehead. No, she couldn't lie to him, and Alfie felt miserable because he knew she didn't want to smile but was trying to make things easier.

For a moment they shared a normal morning but despite their efforts, the silence return to the house. Except in their own heads.

Alfie overheard the conversation the night before between Tommy and Rose. That wasn't a good life for any of them.

He loved them, but he wasn't selfish, not when it was about love. Alfie made a decision, now he needed to say it, even if his own heart was going to end broken, probably forever.

[kylejsugarman]

hey I lurk for your Breaking Bad content. please give me all of your Jesse in Alaska/recovery headcanons. I need it like I need air.

jesse in alaska.......where do i even begin 😔 im going to avoid lingering too much on my alaska oc's and that little world (tldr for newcomers: jesse gets to haines, starts working at a repair/custom shop called carvings owned by sheila, and befriends and falls in love with the local vet demi who is raising her niece baby) just because there are Plenty of those posts and i want to focus more on jesse himself

this is one ive talked about before, but its just so precious to me, and thats jesse getting into cooking. at first, him learning how to do it is out of pure necessity. the canned food that ed left him only lasts for a few weeks and the prepackaged stuff at the store is all queasily redolent of the "treats" (<- meager sustenance) that were dropped into his cage, so he picks up a box of dry pasta and looks at the recipe for chicken penne printed on the box. it has all the steps, the ingredients. he was always good at following a recipe. jesse dutifully buys the stuff and what begins as him robotically following the text later on in his small, dim kitchen starts to feel. Good. there's no harsh fumes or chemical burns. he doesnt have to measure the garlic down to a hundredth of a gram. he has a recipe to follow—something to guide him—but nothing awful is going to happen if he experiments a little. if he deviates. and he isn't making poison. he's making something Good. for so, so long, jesse only Destroyed and when he did create, it was poison. now he gets to do what he wants. he gets to make good. that chicken penne is the first thing he eats in weeks that actually has flavor—or maybe he's letting himself Taste again. jesse starts cooking more and more, using those supermarket recipes and eventually recipes that he prints off from the public library computers, and even once it becomes a part of his daily routine, he never loses that weird excitement for it. there's the satisfaction of successfully executing a task even with his memory issues and adhd, but also the excitement of realizing over and over that he can do what he wants.

jesse thinks he's "done" with drugs when he gets to alaska purely because he hasn't been able to use and doesnt have immediate access to anything stronger than alcohol or tobacco, but he quickly realizes that he does not have any other kind of coping mechanism ready to deploy or way to sufficiently distract himself once he's physically and mentally well enough to Be Aware. alcohol doesnt seem to "work" fast enough. he thinks over and over about hiring a sex worker or finding a bar somewhere so he can have sex with and fall asleep next to a warm, living body. he drives for hours and sometimes hits the brakes hard on the icy road when theres no one else out there, letting himself skid uncontrollably and hoping he crashes. he wants to start a fight with a stranger. he wants to hug a stranger. and he does end up using drugs again, several times. i mean he's a severely traumatized addict arriving in a new location with zero support. it's not a failure, it's not irreversible backsliding: it's just the reality of what being in this terrifying, vulnerable situation would be like for jesse. for a long time, he sees these relapses as signs of weakness and that Certain People were right about him being a pathetic junkie with no will or value, but as he starts meeting people and finding new ways to be happy and getting the right treatment for his various issues and sometimes even sitting in NA church basement meetings because he just needs to be Understood, jesse comes around to the idea that addiction is not a moral failing and sees his life as worthy enough to safely and healthily preserve.

lightning round!! jesse decides once he arrives to grow his hair and facial hair out some to look less like his old mugshot, but also because as soon as the cold winter air touches his shaved head, he basically reverts to spongebob and patrick duct-taping fur off of sandy to survive in her dome during winter. he stops to stare in awe at eagles and whales and moose even after years and years of living in alaska. his sense of smell is nearly totally destroyed from cooking without protection, but he still always buys lemon scented soap and cleaning stuff because lemon was his aunt ginny's favorite scent. he reads up on a lot of first-aid on the public library computers, sometimes out of a sense of frantic compulsion or guilt, sometimes out of legitimate curiosity. when he drives home from doctors appointments or NA meetings, he plays the music in his car so loud that his seat shakes. the people of haines know that mr driscoll can be a little cagey and will flinch at the sound of his own laugh, but they also know that he brakes for animals and carves beautiful gadrooning and buys ten of whatever the kids are selling to raise money for the band or their scout troop. and they like him quite a bit :)

[scaly-freaks]

how did you create amara? she's so compelling. i'm itching to create an hotd oc (mostly for aemond tho) but i'm absolutely unable to. i grew up on the era where every female oc was called a mary sue and every time i think someone could think that of my oc i become unbearably sad. enlighten me senpai

Aaahhh the Mary Sues. Such a silly way to diss what were usually teenage writers simply trying to explore the foundational stages of creating a character. There are so many popular Gary Stus in popular media (James Bond is definitely one) but men don't get called out for it the same.

I will say it took time for me to lean into writing a character who isn't just better than me in every sense of the word, and is allowed to make her own mistakes. I have to empathise with her a lot when she does some stupid shit and I'm sitting there like girl...

The key is probably to mix the stupid shit we all do on a daily basis (and judge more harshly when done by a fictional character) with real emotions and inner thoughts that would connect to most readers. Insecurities, anxiety, etc etc. But it's important to show her wanting to get out of these pitfalls of human nature, striving to do better even when she fails. She can't be perfect and smart and sassy out the gate or there's no fun watching her become a more well-rounded person.

The most important thing about an OC isn't how she's created at the start, but how she ends up at the finish line of the journey you're taking the reader along on. Don't flesh her out too much. Give her a few key traits - habits, emotional instabilities, insecurities - and then let them expand as she interacts with Aemond. Let her be human. Rolling the eyes, smirking, and sassy comebacks are all well and good, but real people don't behave like that. Sometimes, I like to put myself in the situation and realise I would never have such a put-together response because a fic writer isn't actually writing me (unless God has something to tell me about the sham of a plotline my life currently is). Once you've figured out what you'd do in a scene where you're stuck on what to write next, then bring back all you already know about your OC and modify your own response to become hers.

I didn't plan Amara at all when I put her into Burning Jasmine. My aim was to give Aegon someone that he could call his own in a way no one else in his family was. But I also knew Aegon is a dipshit. So, their first meeting is him basically yelling at her to get him more wine and stop telling him he needs a doctor, and her immediate reaction is girl fuck you, ew. Then, he softens, because the urge to be loved always comes out in the end (see here's where canon existing does help), and then I created Amara's background with the kidnapping from Lys, and how her parents raised her with love, and understood that she would see his anger as a facet of his isolation and vulnerability, not as something independent to him that he wields like a weapon.

Also my last pointer is always going to be the same but read, read, read. I would suggest contemporary books as unlike with fantasy, they're not worldbuilding, all they have are their characters. Learn from them. Get comfortable with inner monologuing for your OC that doesn't constantly revolve around Aemond, and how she is an accessory to him. She's the main character in her head, with a whole inner world of her own, and that'll be the best way to approach it.

If none of this made sense, disclaimer - I'm not the best with advice *-*

[remadra]

meows. tell me Everything you have on ushanka. i'm new and i like his vibe

Answering after consulting and compiling.

Hi I have an AU called Pale City Teens where all the kids I like survived. It does not matter how canon they are, just that they are canon. It can range from full model and animations to concept art stored in the files of the game. This one is my favorite, he appears for about five seconds and dies immediately. His actual name is The Kid With A Red Scarf but for some reason I could never remember that (Control Car Delete) but I did remember his hat! So I called him Ushanka Kid.

I was talking to @neko-chan-13 about RK being bad at flirting with girls and they said what if the same happens with guys to him, like he doesn't catch on. He could've had a boyfriend but was too dumb to notice it.

Ushanka kid.

We have 20+ AUs featuring Usha and RK as part of the main cast if not the main characters and hop around them like very normal people would.

Based on almost nothing I've made personalities for all the background characters. There's very very little supporting evidence for any of it but it's my dollhouse and I get to play with the dolls with Neko.

SO. Usha (his shortened name) is Russian, he likes heavy clothes, cold weather, and things with engines like cars or trains. He's the oldest at 17 and a half (very important to have the half). We gave him an old bike/motorcycle he built himself and fuels with grain alcohol because I pestered my brother about old cars for an hour (power of home distilleries in post prohibition era type aesthetic world baybey).

I decided to even out the amount of lesbians and bisexuals in my AU by making 1 singular gay boy. He's accidentally our token mean gay of the team with Pretty because he's kind of rude and antisocial.

It's VERY important that he has acne because 1) he does not wash his face 2) he is genetically predisposed and 3) some people just have acne that never goes away :,)). He cares about his friends, but not really anyone beyond them, and doesn't like to stay in one place for long (hence the bike). He's one of the kids that Mono and Six saved in the loops (Six picked to save him because she thought he was funny), so he has the pin from Mono on his hat as a sort of "Hey, don't fuck with me, I have tough friends" to other kids. Mono gives the pins out so he can recognize people since he sucks at facial recognition between time travel and looping.

And he's accidentally a hopeless romantic that just can't get up the nerve to ask out a really stupid guy. Even after he gets RK (good for him) they're both still stupid.

Because we thought it was funny.

I write him as skipping some words when agitated like "the" and "a" because Russian doesn't have those, and avoiding contractions because he wants to be understood clearly. He hates idioms, especially ones easy to screw up like "right from the gecko" (get go), and "add salt to the injury" (insult). He also doesn't like metaphors, similes, analogies, or hyperbole. He just wants people to say what they mean and stop expecting him to understand their unnecessarily complicated phrases.

We have more about him but SOMEONE is taking their sweet fucking time writing that FUCKING FIC and wants to be FIRST.

My version (teenager) versus canon (doll).

Thank you for listening.

(You can check the Scarven tag for more of them together and some poor soul's OC that has that name, or search Little Nightmares Ushanka Kid for more of just this guy in our version.)

[misc-obeyme]

unchained - chapter seven

masterpost read the chapter on ao3

recommended music: Like Real People Do by Hozier word count: 2272

GN!MC x Arsenios [demon OC] a/n: In case you don't recognize it, that image is the Purgatory Hall kitchen. So yes, there are cameos from Solomon, Simeon, and Raphael in this chapter! Solomon talks about the time he summoned Arsenios into the human world, which you can read here if you're interested! Warnings: some slight spoilers for OG season 4 and like... at least three romance tropes all in one scene because I like fluff and cheese~

You knocked on the door to Purgatory Hall and waited. You didn't have to wait long. Simeon opened the door and smiled brightly when he saw you.

"MC!" he said, moving aside to let you in. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"Sorry to stop by unexpectedly," you said. "I need to talk to Solomon. Is he home?"

Simeon continued to smile, but there was a distinct stiffness that suddenly descended upon his face. "Ah. He's in the kitchen with Raphael."

You understood immediately that there was likely a dire situation happening in there, but you felt like you could avoid sampling whatever Solomon was cooking. You nodded firmly. "Right. I'm going in."

Simeon went with you, clearly concerned about your well-being.

Fortunately, it looked like Solomon was finished with whatever he had been cooking and was now doing the dishes. Raphael was helping with the cleanup.

"Oh, MC," Solomon said when he saw you. "I didn't know you'd be coming by. I would have made more simmered behemoth's hind leg."

You eyed the dishes that still hadn't been cleaned and did not say how it looked more like unidentified matter than anything else. "Don't worry about it, I already ate. I'm sorry for dropping by unannounced, but I wanted to talk to you."

Solomon wiped his hands on a nearby towel.

"We can finish the dishes," Simeon said, taking Solomon's spot at the sink beside Raphael.

You and Solomon stayed in the kitchen to chat, sitting on stools by the counter.

"What's going on?" Solomon asked.

You decided it was best to get straight to the point. "How much do you know about Arsenios?"

Solomon looked thoughtful. "Not that much," he said. "I know that Arsenios is a music demon who can lend humans musical talent by making pacts with them. He spent a lot of time in the human world doing just that. I don't know about his unique experience, but he was likely summoned by humans. I summoned him into the human world myself and he seemed to find it a matter of routine."

"You summoned him?" you asked. "Why?"

Solomon smiled at you. "I had heard rumors about him. I wanted to meet him for myself. Demons who make deals like that are generally fairly easy to summon at a crossroads."

"A crossroads?" you repeated.

"A place where two roads meet," Solomon said.

You folded your arms and puffed out your cheeks. "I know what a crossroads is. Why is it easy to summon demons there?"

"It has to do with the symbolism," Solomon said. "A crossroads is a place where two things meet, which means that it's also a place where the barrier between two worlds is a little thinner. It's easier to summon demons into the human world there because it's easier for them to get through."

"So you summoned Arsenios at a crossroads and asked him to make a pact with you?" you asked.

Solomon laughed. "He refused immediately!"

"Did he tell you why he wouldn't?" you asked.

Solomon shook his head, frowning. "He was too busy telling me to never summon him again."

"Why did you want to make a pact with him to begin with?" you asked.

Solomon shrugged. "He's a fairly powerful demon. I mean, he's certainly not on the level of Lucifer and his brothers, but his particular ability is unusual."

You thought about how Arsenios had alleviated some of your fatigue with his song. You had definitely never heard of such an ability before, but you didn't realize it was that unusual. "Do you know anything about a reaper named Caligo?"

"I've heard of him," Solomon said. "His name means mist in Latin and he has the ability to manipulate… well, mist. I had also heard rumors that he was working with a demon…"

You remembered how the fog had acted in the garden that evening, how unusual it had been. The way it had dissipated once Caligo left.

Solomon reached out and put a hand on your arm. You looked up and saw concern in his eyes. "MC. Why are you asking me about all of this? Did something happen?"

You shook your head. "Nothing I can't handle. You of all people should know you don't need to worry about me. You're the one who trained me."

Solomon grinned and the worry you'd seen a minute ago was replaced by pride. "Of course I know that, my adorable apprentice. But I can't help worrying about you anyway."

You rolled your eyes, but you smiled at him, too. "One last question. Do you know of any kind of trouble between Arsenios and Lucifer?"

Solomon frowned. "No. I can't say that I know anything about that."

"I don't think there's anything specific happening there," Simeon cut in from where he had just finished the last of the dishes. "I've gotten to know Arsenios a bit and I think it just comes down to their personalities."

You supposed this made sense. Perhaps the two of them were just too much alike. You looked at Simeon. "He won't talk to me about his past. He always avoids any questions I ask. Do you really think an angel helped him?"

Raphael looked up in surprise. "An angel helped him?"

Simeon looked a little guilty. "It was just the impression I had when I first met him. There's a certain look people get when they've encountered an angel and then see one again for the first time. It's like this light behind their eyes."

Raphael nodded. "I know what you mean. But it's usually something you only see in humans, not demons."

"Not many angels would help a demon in trouble," Solomon said.

The room went quiet. There was an unspoken truth hanging in the air. Nobody needed to comment on how Simeon was still wearing his human world outfit. An angel who helped a demon stood among them. You hadn't been told this directly, of course, but you had your suspicions.

Raphael frowned. "I may know something about this."

Everyone looked at him in surprise.

"You?" Solomon asked.

"What do you know?" you asked.

"A while ago, an angel told me they helped a demon in their time of need," Raphael said. "They were so distraught over it, convinced that they would be punished. And I…"

"You told them to keep it a secret, didn't you?" Simeon asked quietly.

Raphael sighed.

"Who was it?" you asked. "Who was that angel?"

Raphael shook his head. "I won't reveal their identity now. I'm sorry, MC. It might not even be the same angel."

You slumped a little, but you understood. It wasn't like you could talk to an angel who was likely still in the Celestial Realm anyway. "Probably not. Anyway, I'm just trying to understand a little more about what's going on. I feel like I can trust Arsenios, but he isn't exactly an open book."

Simeon nodded. "That's definitely the impression I have of him, too. He's kind. You've seen him with Luke. But there's some deep pain there that he won't talk about. I also think there's a bit of anger, an almost dangerous streak if you happen to cross him."

You considered this. The way he had no problem expressing how he felt about both Solomon and Lucifer made you think this was true.

You stayed at Purgatory Hall for tea, especially when Luke came into the kitchen with a box of cookies he'd made with Barbatos. The discussion remained on mundane topics, but you couldn't help thinking about all you had learned today.

-

A couple days later, you were walking back to the House of Lamentation one evening. You had gone to a bookstore that was on the other side of town, in search of a specific magical tome. You had found some interesting books that you picked up for Satan, but the one you were looking for wasn't there.

You were hurrying through the streets now, glancing up at the gathering clouds on occasion. You were certain it was going to start raining any second.

You were preparing yourself to dodge into a nearby establishment if the rain began. You were listening for the telltale patter, but instead you heard the soft sounds of music. Tender acoustic guitar chords that reminded you of something, but your mind was too focused on the dark sky.

And so you didn't realize how the sound got louder until you collided with something solid. The minute you did, the chords cut off.

"Woah, hey," someone said.

You didn't even have a chance to respond as you felt yourself losing your balance, the bag of books in your hand creating an extra weight on one side.

Just as you thought you were about to make the acquaintance of the cobblestone street, you stopped falling.

There was a hand wrapped around one of your arms. You looked at it and immediately recognized the black circle tattoo on the back of it.

You looked up to meet Arsenios's eyes. He had an acoustic guitar in one hand and your arm in the other.

You were about to say something when there was a deep rumble of thunder and the rain began coming down in a sheet.

Arsenios pulled you back with him under the awning of a nearby store. He left your side immediately to grab the guitar case that was still sitting open on the street. He put his guitar inside it, closing the lid and clasping it shut.

Then he ran a hand through his hair, which was loose and falling slightly into his eyes. "That was close," he said, looking out at the rain.

You caught your breath, your heart still racing from the adrenaline of almost falling. You checked the books in your bag, but they were fine. "Thanks," you said. You eyed his guitar case. "Were you busking out here?"

Arsenios laughed a little. "Kinda? I just like to play, that's all. People always ask me where they can put their Grimm, so I just leave the case open."

There was a silence filled only with the continual shhhh of the falling rain.

You sighed. "I'm not going to get home any time soon, am I?"

Arsenios tsked. "Left home without an umbrella, huh? Aren't you a sorcerer now? Can't you just teleport home?"

You frowned at him, but he was smiling at you. "I can't just teleport whenever. I mean, yeah, I can. But it drains me, you know? And the House of Lamentation is pretty far from here. I shouldn't waste my magic like that when I can just wait it out."

"Ah, so responsible," Arsenios said, his smile growing.

"So what about you? Do you have an umbrella?" you asked.

Arsenios took a small round box out of his pocket, spoke some words in some ancient language you could only assume was demonic, and watched as the box expanded into an umbrella.

He opened it and you were surprised by the soft pink color and cute bow designs.

"Uh," you said.

Arsenios grinned when he saw your expression. "You wanna know why it's pink, huh?"

You blinked and frowned. "No," you said. "Why would I care about that?"

Arsenios came close to you, guitar case in one hand, umbrella in the other. He stood so the umbrella covered both of you, although you were still safe from the rain beneath the canopy.

"Why don't you come with me and I'll tell you all about it?" he said. "There's enough room under this massive umbrella for you, too."

The air around you had become chilly with the rain, but his body so close to yours created a wave of heat between you. You refused to back away, keeping yourself still, your eyes on his.

"Go with you where?" you asked.

"I live nearby," Arsenios said. "You can stay at my place until the rain stops."

He was inviting you to his house? Where did he even live? You realized you knew nothing about his living arrangements.

You debated with yourself. If Lucifer found out about it, you'd be in trouble. Was it dangerous? Could you trust Arsenios?

You did. You knew you did. It was a truth you had already admitted to yourself previously. For whatever reason, despite his annoying grins and ominous connection to a reaper that wanted to kill him, you trusted him.

And anyway, if you really needed help, you could always summon one of the brothers to your side. You remembered what Solomon had said about Arsenios - that while he was powerful, he wasn't on the level of Lucifer and his brothers. And you dealt with the seven of them every day.

"Okay," you said.

Arsenios looked surprised for a moment before the expression was replaced with a soft smile. "All right," he said. "Will you hold onto my arm? So I know you're still under the umbrella."

Arsenios offered you his arm, the one holding the pink umbrella.

You took it, linking your arm in his, your other hand holding tight to your bag of books. You rested your hand on his arm, the skin exposed as he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He pressed his arm into himself, pulling you closer to him before stepping out beyond the canopy.

The instant the two of you stepped out into the rain, the sound of it hitting the umbrella became almost fierce.

"It's not far," Arsenios said, his quiet voice somehow still perfectly audible despite the noise.

You didn't say anything, only allowed him to guide you through the rain soaked streets.

masterpost | chapter six | chapter eight

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