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allbark-no-bite · 10 months ago

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the night shift.

jake seresin x bradley bradshaw (wc: 3k)

summary: jake’s a cop working the night shift and pulls over a mildly drunk (and very interested) firefighter. chaos ensues.

warnings: mature, *driving while under the influence of alcohol, some sexual references

*if this bothers you, just don’t read, simple as that. you don’t have to come into my inbox to tell me that it bothers you <3

author’s note: i’ve never written anything faster in my entire like. this was so much fun! i came across this post again and couldn’t let it go. all credit to @squiddosss for their amazing artwork

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It's slow nights like these that make Jake question why he prefers the night shift.

The gravel of the lonely backroad crunches beneath the tires of his cruiser as he makes the curve and slowly pulls to a stop. The sirens on his cruiser give one last whoop before he shuts them off. The back of the beat up vintage blue Bronco gleams in the shine of his headlights. He sighs and shifts the car into park before he tips his radio towards his mouth and mumbles his whereabouts, informing Javy that he's making a traffic stop.

"10-4. Keep me updated."

He climbs out of the cruiser and makes his way towards the vehicle, keeping one thumb tucked into the front of his belt, fingers ready to reach for his gun in an instant. The diver hadn't given him any trouble thus far other than what he had pulled him over for— swerving all over the road, but Jake had been trained to err on the side of caution. He runs his finger tips over the tail light as he passes it by, a habit he had picked up from working alone.

For being such an old model, the car is in pretty decent shape. It has what appears to be brand new tires and the powder blue paint job has been restored to perfection. It was obviously well cared for. He wonders briefly the story behind it being as he doubts you could buy such a car these days. This was the kind of car that you handed down.

The window rolls down just as Jake approaches it.

"How's it goin' Officer?"

Jake blinks.

The driver is a younger guy, probably close to his own age— Jake likes to think that thirty-one is still plenty young— with shoulders so broad that it's a wonder he even fits in the front seat. His skin is a dark olive, which is pretty typical for someone who lives around here, but what catches Jake's attention the most is the perfectly groomed mustache the guy is sporting on his upper lip. It's thick and matches the caramel color of his otherwise brunette head of hair.

"Is there something wrong?"

The guy smiles and his dusty rose lips frame his perfectly aligned white teeth.

Jake tells himself it's his job to notice these kinds of things.

Jake clears his throat and leans in to peer into the cab of the truck, doing his best to avoid the lingering stare of the guy's warm hazel eyes. When he's satisfied that there's nothing worthy of his immediate attention in the car, Jake focuses back on him.

"Can I get your license and registration?"

It takes him a moment of fumbling around in his glove box and then his pocket, but he hands both documents over. The guy watches him so intently while Jake reads over them that it almost makes him uncomfortable, and he's glad for the excuse to look away.

"You had much to drink tonight, Bradley?" Jake asks as his eyes skim over the name. Bradley Peter Bradshaw. He almost laughs. If Jake didn't know better, he'd think it was a fake.

Jake knows the answer before he asks it but he figures he'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He doesn't necessarily reek of alcohol but Jake can defiantly pick up the fermented smell of yeast on his breath. If the guy hadn't been staring at him so intently and Jake could look at him for longer than two seconds, he's sure his pupils would be dilated as well.

"Just a little, Officer. I'm sobered up now."

Jake has to hold back his disbelieving snort. If he had a dime for every time he heard that, he'd be rich. "Well, Bradley. I find that a little hard to believe. You were all over this back road here. You know you're only supposed to drive on the right side, right?"

Bradley's mouth twitches, as if he found Jake's comment more amusing rather than condescending. "I didn't, but I'll sure take your word for it."

Jake, on the other hand, doesn't share his humor. "You seem like a funny guy, Bradley. But unfortunately, I don't find drunk driving to be very funny."

And then his eyes land on the emblem on Bradley's navy blue t-shirt—N.I.F.D. —the one his swollen biceps are nearly bursting out of.

"You work for North Island Fire Department?"

Jake watches as Bradley's slightly drunk grin widens. "I sure do."

Jake hands him back his license and the rest of his paperwork. "I've got a couple friends down at the station. You know Trace, Fitch?"

If his pupils weren't already blown wide, Jake would say they lit up in recognition. "Yeah, actually. Natasha is the one who got me the job there. I just finished a deployment out in the Pacific."

It's then that Jake notices the dog tags looped around his thick neck and hidden beneath his shirt. "You're enlisted," Jake says aloud, and then to conceal his surprise follows with, "I was too."

That's the kind of thing that you do when you're eighteen and more scared of not living than dying. If anything it was exciting. Anything that meant getting the hell out of Texas was exciting. He misses it now, but at the time when he was standing alone in that recruiters office, he didn't think for a moment that he would. He felt like a man.

The navy made him a man, is what his daddy said. It was probably one of the only times the old bastard ever told him he was proud of him, and the only time he didn't feel bad for making his mama cry.

The reason he got out was for the reason most do. You realize you don't stay twenty forever and life doesn't wait around until you figure that out. He didn't want to retire one day and have nothing to come home to but an empty apartment. San Diego seemed as good of a place to settle down as any.

Javy's voice crackles through on the radio strapped to his chest, breaking up their conversation.

"Unit-16. Checking in on your traffic stop. You need back-up?"

He hadn't realized they'd been talking so long. Jake mentally reprimands himself for getting distracted and picks up the radio while pressing it to his mouth. "This is Unit-16. No back-up necessary. Over."

"10-4. Over."

Jake releases the radio and looks back up to Bradley. Get back on task, Jake. Bradley smiles coyly at him. Jesus, focus, Jake.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step out the vehicle."

The hopeful look in Bradley's big hazel eyes falters.

"Look, Officer uh— " The Bradley leans towards his open window so that he can squint at the gold engraved name plate on Jake's uniform. "—Seresin." Jake watches as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he cocks his head a little to the side and smiles, looking up at Jake. "You look good."

Oh. Oh.

That's what this is all about.

It's then that Jake realizes that this guy has been flirting him the entire time. He'll admit it's not the first time someone's hit on him while on the clock. Jake is aware he's an attractive guy, it's just that this is the first time he's been tasked with turning down at very handsome, drunk stranger. But drunk or not, the compliment makes his cheeks burn. Jake prays that the red and blue lights of his cruiser are enough to conceal the way his face flushes.

Ignoring him, Jake grabs the door handle of the Bronco and tugs it open. "C'mon, pal. Outta the car."

A little begrudgingly, Bradley slowly steps out of the car. Jake doesn't miss the way he grabs onto the door to steady himself.

Now that he's out of the car and in the beam of his headlights, Jake gets a good look at him. Bradley is over six feet of lean tan muscle. His long legs are encased in blue jeans that fit a bit too snug around his narrow waist, but from there he only gets wider all the way up to his shoulders. He's got some height on Jake and if he weren't in shape himself, Jake would probably be a little intimidated.

Jake steps up to him. "Go ahead and turn around for me. Put your hands flat on the hood."

For a moment Jake thinks he isn't going to listen, but then Bradley smirks a little and does as he's told. "Normally I'd ask you to buy me dinner first, but whatever you say, Officer."

This time Jake is glad that he's turned around. He steps forward and uses one of his feet to knock Bradley's legs a little further apart so that he can pat him down. He's not surprised to find that there's nothing on him, but he always has to check.

"Are you always this forward, Bradley? Or just when you're drunk?"

"No, sir," Bradley promises him, refusing to flinch even as Jake's hands come dangerously close to his crotch. "Just when the officer is nice to look at."

Jake pulls away as Bradley turns around. He specifically remembers telling him to keep his hands flat on the cruiser but Jake is getting the impression that Bradley doing something that could hurt either one of them isn't something he needs to worry about so he lets it go. Typically a stupid decision but he trusts his gut.

Bradley leans back just slightly to prop himself up against the car and crosses his arms in front of his chest while giving Jake a smile. His big brown eyes are warm and dopey, his smile impish.

"You gonna cut me some slack?" he asks.

Habitually, Jake curls his fingers through the front of his belt. The familiar weight of his kevlar vest is heavy and comforting and somehow he finds that it settles his fluttering heart in his chest.

"You know it's considered an offense to flirt with an officer?" Jake tells him, trying to remain professional and stand his ground. If his eyes drop to observe the way the other man's pecks fill out his t-shirt, that's his business.

Bradley smiles, ducking his head a little abashedly. Jake doesn't miss the way his teeth release the pout of his bottom lip. "Does that apply to when you're off duty as well?"

Jake pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek to keep from smiling. It's not funny, and he shouldn't be flattered by the advances of a drunk stranger but he is. And maybe he does have some sympathy for the guy. He knows what it's like coming back to the states and trying to adjust back to civilian life. But that doesn't mean that he's above the law.

"Bradley," he begins, his voice firm but sympathetic. "You know you can't be driving around like this. As much as I'd like to, I can't let you go."

As far as he's concerned, Bradley doesn't seem to be hearing him at all.

"Y'know, of all the places I imagined myself being handcuffed, none of them were in the back of a cop car."

"Jesus Christ," Jake mutters, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Really, he has no words. "Okay, that's enough," he announces, giving up on getting Bradley to actually take this seriously. "Turn around for me."

Smiling as if feeling a little too pleased with himself, Bradley obediently shuffles around so that Jake can then walk up behind him and clasp his wrists together. He uses his other hand to retrieve his cuffs from his belt and clips them on.

They're a little tight but that's only because Bradley's broad shoulders prevent his wrists from fully meeting, his shoulder blades seemingly obstructed by the wide expanse of his back.

Jake is definitely not staring.

If the cuffs are uncomfortable, Bradley doesn't say anything, and Jake walks him by one of his elbows to the cruiser.

"Watch your head," Jake instructs him as he opens the door for Bradley to step in. It's a tight fit but somehow he manages, scooting over the seat until he's sat in the middle, his long legs spread to either side in order to accommodate them. The denim of his jeans strain at the awkwardness of the angle and gives Jake a front row view of the bugle of his crotch.

Jake clears his throat, looking away. If it were for the fact that he was drunk, Jake would say he's doing it on purpose.

Before Jake can shut the door and leave with what little is left of his self preservation, Bradley's voice stops him.

"Wait, what about my car?"

When Jake leans down to poke his head into the backseat of the cruiser, the look on Bradley's face is actually concerned. That's a first, Jake thinks. "I'll call someone to tow it. It'll be impounded until you can come and pick it up from the station." When the worry on Bradley's face only increases, his mustache emphasizing the action, he follows with, "They'll take good care of it for you, I promise."

Bradley's eyes flicker to the old Bronco anxiously. "It's just that it's my dad's car. He, um, he died when I was a kid. So, y'know..." he explains, trailing off.

Of fucking course it is.

Jake sighs, hangs his head in defeat for a second, and then looks back into the car at Bradley. "Look, I'll make a deal with you. Promise me we won't meet like this again and I won't have them tow your car. You can just come get it in the morning."

Bradley grins. "Well I'd certainly like to meet you under different circumstances."

Jake slams the door shut.

The drive back into town is quiet. When he glances at the clock on his dashboard, he realizes he only has about an hour left to his shift. As he pulls into the little suburban neighborhood, having memorized the address on Bradley's license, he glances into the backseat through his rear view mirror.

At first he thinks that Bradley's knocked out in the backseat, head lulled back as he breathes slow and steady, but then he sees the whites of his hazel eyes illuminated by the occasional red and blue flash of his overhead lights. Their gazes meet through the mirror and the corner of Bradleys mouth lifts up in a half drunk smile. Jake shifts his gaze away to instead peer at the numbers on the houses. Finally he finds the address he's looking for and slows the cruiser as he pulls into the driveway.

He brings the car to a stop and slides out of the driver's seat, walking around the car to open up the side door. Bradley stares at him quizzically from the backseat.

"C'mon, hop out before I change my mind," Jake prompts, gesturing with his head for Bradley to get a move on. The tall brunette climbs out with as much ease as one can muster in a pair of handcuffs before he's once again standing face to face with Jake.

He's on the downside of his drunken stupor, more sleepy than buzzed if his drooping eyelids are anything to go by. His mustache lifts as he smiles down at Jake. It's still ridiculous looking but it makes more sense now that Jake knows his occupation. It's the only type of facial hair that's considered to be within regs.

Jake clears his throat. "You want me to take those off?" he asks, motioning towards the cuffs holding Bradley's hands behind his back.

"I might do something stupid if you do."

Jake freezes. "What?"

Before he knows it Bradley's kissing him. He connects their mouths with surprising ease. It's so smooth and he moves relatively quickly for someone who's mildly intoxicated that Jake doesn't even see it coming. Between Jake's surprise and Bradley's lack of hands, they're a bit top heavy and Jake has to fist the front of Bradley's t-shirt, his back hitting the side of the cruiser, to keep them from toppling over.

Bradley's mouth is warm, his lips pliant and soft, but he's firm in the kiss, unrelenting in the way that Jake couldn't have pulled away even if he wanted to.

He doesn't want to— he does— but he doesn't want to.

When he comes to his senses, Jake flattens a palm against Bradley's chest and shoves him away. Immediately his chest aches at the distance. He stands there, still half shocked, with his palm holding Bradley away at arm's length.

Really, he's not too sure what to do in this situation.

Bradley’s hazel eyes shine in amusement. He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Again Jake clears his throat. "Ahem— um, glad you got that out of your system," he says with a pat to Bradley's chest. And before anything else can occur, he swiftly steps around the other man and uncuffs his wrists.

Bradley groans in relief, bringing his hands in front of him to rub at his sore wrists. “I think your bondage play needs some work. Not that I’m complaining—”

“Go inside. Get some sleep, Bradley.”

Taking the not so subtle hint, Bradley straightens and fixes Jake with a mocking salute before he turns and makes him way to the front porch. He watches as Bradley unlocks the front door and turns to give him one last look before he steps inside.

“Until next time, Officer Seresin.”

Jake just shakes his head in disapproval, but he can’t disguise his smile. “There better not be a next time,” he calls up the driveway.

He doesn’t pull out the driveway until Bradley’s shut the door and he sees the porch lights flicker off.

Maybe he does like the night shift.

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nkirukaj · 1 year ago

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The Radio Demon & the Billboard Doe (19)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing; Sexual Activities

Genre: ANGST/Fluff SMUT (& Humor!)

Word Count: 8K

<Chapter 18

19. I Didn't Know

*KNOCK KNOCK*

Alastor knew who it was at his door. He got the feeling that he always got when she was around. He wanted her to be there, but he didn’t want her to know that he wanted her there, so he acted nonchalant when he allowed her in.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, his tone betraying nothing as she entered with a large basket on her arm, with two bottles sticking out of the top. One is filled with a light pink liquid and the other has something much darker inside.

“I heard you like Rye from a certain cat.” She shakes the bottle and places it on Alastor’s end table between two chairs in front of the fireplace.

Voe had on a hot pink suit and a button-up v-neck peaking out from under it, likely from the fashion line that she spoke of so fondly, The click of her heels and the crackling fire are the only sounds heard inside the room as she makes herself comfortable, sitting in the armchair across from him.

“I came to apologize to you,” she takes two glasses out of the basket “I am so sorry that I compared you to your father, you are nothing like the person that caused you so much pain and trauma,” she hands Alastor the glass “And this is my peace offering,”

Alastor reaches for the bottle, examining it “Did you procure this from behind the bar?”

Voe shakes her head vigorously “I bought this, very aged and very expensive,”

He pops the bottle open and runs it under his nose “Hm, seems good quality,”

“Only the best for Alastor,” she grins at him

He raises an eyebrow, she seemed sincere in her apology and is doing her best to please him. Alastor pours the whiskey into the glass. Voe finally exhales.

“I’d also like to take this moment to apologize for everything else I’ve done,” she seemed somewhat worried

“And what else have you done?”

She shakes her head “Just everything. The general person that I am,”

“Oh well, that’s something of a cop-out. Don’t apologize for who you are, you don’t see me doing that,”

“That’s because you’re not sorry,”

His eyes glint in the light of the fire “Right. And you aren’t either,” He throws back a shot of the whiskey “You’re only saying that because you think that’s what people want to hear. Apologize for your actions, not your personality,”

She tries to look anywhere but him, in fear that she will feel…something. In truth, she wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but it was a mix of embarrassment, joy, self-consciousness, confidence, and bliss whenever she saw his face. He was gorgeous, in a dark and twisted way. What did that say about her?

Alastor slams down the glass “Whatever is on your mind?”

She waves him off “Nothing,”

“I do not like the lies,”

Voe rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“Vera…”

There it was again. She preferred when people down here called her Voe, except for Alastor. The way he spoke her name was like the same feeling of smelling fresh gasoline in a car, ultra-satisfying. It made her feel quite ticklish on the inside.

“You,” she finally spits out “I’m just thinking about you,”

Alastor’s grin spreads further “My my, what a wonderful way to fill one’s mind. What do you think of me?”

“That you’re…gorgeous, and that I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling when I look at you,”

He seems pleased with the answer as he fills up his glass once more, humming. Voe takes out the bottle she’d brought for herself and sets it on the table next to Alastor’s rye. She pops it open and pours a glass for herself.

“You love the color pink,” Alastor sets down his glass “Tell me why,” he leans forward, resting on the armrest

She’s caught off guard by this but already has a prepared answer “I feel emotions much more intensely than most people that I’ve ever met. And I process and understand them a lot differently as well. One of the things I was asked when I was evaluated for my autism, was ‘How would you describe how happiness feels inside you?’, and I told her that it felt like a pink sparkle rising from my stomach to my chest. This was the first time that I had ever put it into words. After that, I realized that I associate pink with happiness so I do my best to surround myself with that color. And I do my best to be happy,” She drinks from the glass. When she looks back down, she sees Alastor staring at her with an expression of admiration and joy on his face. He starts clapping and Voe looks away, somewhat embarrassed, wondering if she’d said too much.

“I must say, I’ve never heard anything like that before,”

“Yeah well whatever,” her cheeks are the same color as her clothes as she pours herself another glass

“You don’t have to be embarrassed around me, darling,” his closed-lipped smile sent flutters through her stomach. She watched him down another glass “I’ve seen your body, show me your soul,” he snickers at his own little joke

She downs another “I really do think you’re beautiful,” she blurts “I didn’t just say it to make you feel better about you being mixed. I meant that,”

“Well I’m glad to know that you think so highly of me, rightfully so,” His long fingers rim the glass as he stares at his female counterpart

“That’s my Alastor,” Voe says, a slight slur to her speech

He raises his eyebrows “Your Alastor? My dear, I thought we agreed that we didn’t own each other,”

The doe has a michievous smile on her face, she shakes her head “No, we agreed that you didn’t own me,” a shit-eating grin spreads across her face

He’s impressed by this loophole “Clever, but it takes more than words to own me, darling,”

She rolls her eyes “I don’t need to do anything,” she snickers at him, and he merely squints back to hide the fact that she was absolutely right.

Alastor gives her outfit a once over “Just telling you, you would look ravishing in the color red,” he purrs taking another shot

“That’s your color,” she taps her fingers

“I know,” his grin turns evil as he stares her down

She points at him “Okay, but if I wear red, then you have to wear pink, deal?”

Alastor laughs heartily, a laugh track coming from somewhere in his body “Definitely not,”

“Oh well, there goes me wearing the color red,”

“Are you that stubborn?”

“How am I stubborn that I want something in return, and our terms to be laid out clearly and preferably in writing? Is that stubborn?”

“No,” he admits “It’s smart,”

Voe smirks “Well I’m glad to know you think so highly of me, rightfully so,”

Alastor examined her body language, her legs crossed, her blazer unbuttoned, and one hand lying in her lap while the other classily handled her glass. Her eyes are big and bright as she lets her hair do the talking with its hue and size. She was breathtaking, but this he kept to himself.

“You know,” she says holding the glass gracefully between her fingers. Her nails clink against it “I spent all this time thinking that deep down I was secretly just a little tortured baby, just because I didn’t feel very good about myself,” she begins cackling “But now I think I finally get it. I’m just not a very nice person!” She calms down “I think I could be a good person, but not a nice one. You get me?”

Alastor swallows another shot, the sensation burning his chest in a pleasurable way. He nods in response to her question.

“You were right,” he says his voice devoid of its usual filter, sounding a little unsteady “about me being cruel. I know I am.”

She laughs “I know that!” She takes a breath “And I adore you regardless,” she looks up at him “Does that make me crazy?”

“Do I look like an indicator of sanity my dear?” And they laugh like banshees

“And I wouldn’t change a thing about you,” Voe sighs once they settle down from their laughter

Alastor absorbs this comment, this was something new. For his entire existence, the only person who didn’t want to change something about him was his mother, and she didn’t know everything that he was. Even dear Charlotte wanted him to change as a means of redemption. It was very refreshing to find someone who knew him- all of him -and still enjoyed him exactly the way he was, there was Rosie, of course, but he didn’t feel the same with her, this feeling this tie he had with Voe felt much deeper. He had waited years before deciding Rosie was appropriate to trust, but with Voe it came so naturally, that he wondered why.

Alastor felt the warmth of the liquor taking over his body. Something in him must have physically shifted because Voe seemed to have taken notice as well.

He puts his glass down and kneels in front of her, holding her hand

“I want you to be mine, my doe.”

“I am.” She states plainly “You don’t have to own me for that to be true.”

“I want to make sure you never leave.”

“Can’t you trust me?” He is quiet. “No man will ever own me in a literal sense. But I promise Alastor, I’m yours.” the words hurt her to say. She knew what Vox had told her, and she had to think of what was more important to her, this relationship or this career. She places her hand on his face. Alastor removes it and holds it in his large clawed hands.

“I need you to know something, Vera,” She looks up at the mention of her name “The day I first asked for your soul, and you asked for mine, I-“ he swallows his words

“What?”

“At the time it was said in jest, but since then I’ve considered giving it to you,”

“What? Why??”

“Because,” he looks at her “you are no ordinary sinner. You are my doe and there’s no one I’d rather have it,”

“I- I don’t want to own you, I-“

“I’m not done.” She closes her mouth and looks at him “But I can’t give it to you because-“ he looks away. She reaches for his face and turns it over to her

“Take your time,”

“I can’t give it to you because…someone already owns it”

Voe is taken aback “You-?” He nods “Oh my gosh! Alastor! How did you- Why did- What did-“ He looks up at her filled with shame and embarrassment, and she returns his gaze with compassion “This must be eating you up inside,”

He shuts his eyes tightly and opens them once more. She stops and thinks about how this would be prime information that the Vees might desire. This is the big drop they were looking for. She’d done it. She’d gotten the information that could destroy the Radio Demon once and for all. All she had to do now was tell them. But when she looked down in front of her, she didn’t see him. There was no Radio Demon, there was only Alastor—Mama’s boy from New Orleans, who loves jazz and stupid puns. Whose dream was to be on the one medium where how he looked didn’t matter, and he was holding onto her hand.

He stares at her fingers as if they were made of gold. Voe begins cackling hysterically, pulling her hand back to her chest. She laughs until she can’t breathe, her skin is pink, and tears roll down her cheeks. She falls to her knees beside the Radio Demon.

“Why do you look at me like that?” She asks through tears. Her chest is heavy with the weight of her choices. “I’m a giant walking, red flag!” she exclaimed.

“Vera… Look at me,” he commanded, and she complied. Her ears perked up as she heard him say her name. He grabs her face and stares directly into her eyes

“Darling, red is my favorite color,” he said grinning evilly, and leaned in, breathing against her tears, then taking his tongue and dragging it up her face.

Her jaw falls open and he begins cackling alongside her. She grabs his face and licks him right back.

He licks her jawline and she licks his neck. He licks her collarbone, slowly this time. She stares at his throat and carefully removes his bowtie, then carefully unbuttons the top of his shirt. Her eyes shift upward and he looks down at her hands.

“Go on,” he says, and she pulls apart the shirt to reveal the top of his pecs, which she then drags her tongue across.

Instantly, Alastor’s hands were undoing the buttons on her blouse, throwing back her suspenders, and reaching inside to unsheathe her breasts. She gasps as he drags his tongue down from her collarbone to her breasts, stopping at the nipple. He sucks on it, giving it his full attention. She looks down at him in arousal and presses his head closer, as he sucks on each nipple harder and harder. Her heat dripped with each second, so much that she was sure it would show through her pants. He stares at her with intention as his tongue circles her nipple inside his closed mouth.

Once he finally releases her breast she reaches for his warmth, the cool air now hitting her nipples even harder with Alastor’s saliva still left on them. She lets out a whine, her hands looking for something to grasp

“Shhh” he puts his finger to her lips. He removes his shirt and pulls her towards him. She sticks out her tongue and Alastor catches it with his own. He lowers his head removing her pants and panties, excited to continue his trend of licking.

Alastor could feel the heat of her cunt on his face, he exhales, adding some heat of his own, sending a shiver up Voe’s spine. “Are you ready?” he asks Southern accent on full display

“Yes,” she moans

Alastor licks the dripping liquid from her slit, eliciting a moan from Voe, he then looks up at her, her pupils dilated, eyes full of lust. His tongue slithers inside her folds, thick and wet. He tasted her juices from every angle. Her body twitches from the insertion and her hips buck upwards as his tongue curls inside her. He removes his tongue, eyes meeting her and whispers “Ma belle biche. Le soleil ne signifie rien quand vous êtes proche. Vous êtes la lune et les étoiles” before reentering her, flipping and pumping his tongue inside her. He pulls his tongue out and starts flicking her clit up and down. Side to side. In circles. And then sucking on it like it was one of her nipples. She pushes his head down, grabbing a fistful of his hair, arching her back as her orgasm gets closer as he sucks, releasing all over his face, into his waiting and open mouth. After licking up the rest, he sits up and wipes his mouth, smirking “Vous êtes absolument délicieuse.”

“You know I don’t know what you’re saying right?” She laughs

He just goes in for another kiss, sliding his tongue down her throat.

She glances down at his crotch “May I? Please? Please?” She begs him “Please? Please?” She is practically drooling at this point.

Alastor looks at her restless tongue and lips, loving the sound of this proud woman begging him for permission, and decides to allow it “Well all right, if you desire it so.” he smirks

Voe smiles and crouches down with her butt in the air, unzipping and removing his trousers and underwear. She marvels at the sight of his cock, then licks the tip of it to which Alastor moans in response. The sound made Voe bite her lip, as Alastor very rarely moaned in her presence. She sticks her tongue out and flicks it up the slit, making another moan slip out. With giddiness, Voe wraps her lips around his thick cock, and Alastor, not used to the sensation leans his head back on the chair behind him and breathes heavily, a deep hum is felt in the vibration of his chest.

Voe pumps his shaft, making sure to make as much contact with her tongue as possible, bobbing her head up and down, while twisting with both of her hands. She feels Alastor’s palm on the back of her head, pushing her down further, and smiles, taking him deeper into her throat. So deep that if she had a gag reflex, it would have been triggered already. More and more she pumps until she feels his thick white liquid coating her throat. She swallows it, with the saliva-covered cock, still in her hands. She releases it, and comes back up, licking his chest and throat once more, and leaving bite marks where anyone could see them. She lifted his head off the seat.

“May I try something new please?”

Alastor is out of breath but musters a short nod. Voe claps in glee as she retakes his newly hard cock in her hands once more, placing it at the perfect angle to lower herself onto. She moans loudly, without a care of who might hear. Alastor twitches inside of her as his head remains on the chair. She lifts his head back up. His smile looks lazy and his eyes are lidded.

“Stay with me okay? I wanna look at you.” She holds his head up as she rides him slowly. His crimson eyes were bright in the darkness, so she had a clear view of them rolling back into his head, and almost dropping back as she let him go for a second. She slaps his cheek “Stay alert okay?” she giggles as her speed increases. His antlers start to grow exponentially and she holds onto them to keep his head up. He closes his eyes and once they reopen, his sclera is now black. She pulls his head down to her and whispers “You wanna know what I’m gonna do now?” he nods very small “Right now, I’m going to spell my name on you. And not my sinner name, my real name okay?” Alastor lifts his head on his own, seeming to have regained control “V-E-R-A.” She curves her hips into the shape of each letter and the buck’s eyes flutter, letting out bleats left and right “Now,” she whispers once more “I’m going to spell your name okay?” he doesn’t respond and she holds his face to look at her “Okay?” she asks for confirmation

“Y-yes.” he sputters

“Good boy.” she kisses his temple and slowly, agonizingly traces the letters with her hips “A…L…A…S…T…O…R” she smirks once again.

Alastor lifts his head and sees the chain that bears his name hanging from her neck, moving along with her body, he follows the letters on the chain as she spells his name out loud. Unable to take the sensation anymore, he flips them so Voe is on her back. Alastor licks at her lips and she grants him access to the inside of her mouth. They kiss sloppily as he thrusts inside her slowly and forcefully, making her feel what he was feeling just a second ago. Still reeling from the stimulation, Alastor remains silent, saving his breath to be able to thrust and keep himself up. Voe, however, is quite vocal. Moan after moan she lets out, unable to contain herself.

“Yes…yes.” She keeps whispering

His claws are digging into her thighs, adding new wounds to the old ones.

“Alastor,” she calls out and he leans down to hear her “If I could, I would have your baby,” she whispers to him. His eyes widen and his ears stand straight up as he immediately fills her with cum. An uncontrolled grunt slipped past his lips.

Voe laughs her ass off at this reaction, moans in between as she holds onto him, biting his ear.

They lazily got redressed after cleaning themselves up, Voe’s shirt was wrinkled and half unbuttoned, while Alastor only bothered to pull up one of his suspenders, his sleeves were rolled up and he looked so much more casual than usual, he even left his monocle off. They both kept their shoes off, letting their toes and/or hooves free.

“You look awesome right now,” Voe commented

Alastor turned to her with a cheeky close-lipped smile, as if he didn’t hear what she’d said.

“I wish I could take a picture, but you hate being on cameras,” she pouts

“Not all cameras, sweetie,” he breathes out, still feeling the bliss of their previous activities

Voe tilts her head in intrigue as Alastor manifests a 1920s film camera and hands it to her. Voe turns it around in her fingers, examining it. She looks through the viewfinder and sets Alastor into the frame. She lowers it from her eye and looks at it some more.

“Wait, I don’t know how this camera works!” She laughs, filling Alastor with joy.

He didn’t enjoy it when they were upset with each other. If he had his choice, they would never argue again…well, at least not to the point where they wouldn’t want to be around each other. The arguments themselves were pleasurable. He loved her laughter and her smile, he even thought it was more stunning than his own. Alastor reaches out and takes the camera from her, raising it to his eye and snapping a picture of her.

“Wait, did you just take a picture?” he nods “No fair! I didn’t get to pose!”

Alastor grins and raises the camera back to his eye, Voe poses this time with one of her legs up and the other lying down as she leans on her arm. Alastor takes the picture.

“Hmm,” he spoke under his breath

“What?”

“No wonder you’re on billboards. You’re very photogenic,”

Voe’s smile shines brighter than the fireplace.

“Okay, so now let me take a picture of you,” she snatched the camera back “Show me how to use it!” He positions her fingers on the apparatus “Okay, so I just press this?” he nods “Okay great, sit back down!”

She takes many pictures of him in various positions. It seemed like he didn’t even try, he was just effortlessly gorgeous

“Ooh, that’s a good one!” she told him

“Are they not all good ones?” he asked cheekily

Voe rolls her eyes “You know what I mean,” she takes more

Alastor reaches over and takes the camera back “You’ve had enough, I want to take more of you,”

Voe smiles and poses in various ways for him, Alastor can’t help but feel the same warmth in his chest. He was lost so far into his bliss that he didn’t notice Voe staring at him, or listening when he exhaled

“What have you done to me?” but he doesn’t sound regretful, he sounds as if he’s admiring the spell she’s cast on him.

Voe smiles with flattery as he continues to take her picture.

“It’s not my fault you’re like in love with me,” she laughs, certain he wouldn’t understand the reference

Alastor scoffs “I’ve never been in love with anyone,”

Voe blinks in disbelief “Really? Never?” he snaps another

He shakes his head “Never,”

“How old are you?”

Alastor waves her off “I don’t even know anymore, somewhere between 30 and 40?”

She laughs “Really? And you’ve never fallen in love?”

He shakes his head lowering the camera.

“Why?”

He turns to face her “I have never felt the desire to. I’ve met many women, and even when they pique my interest I’ve never desired anything from them. Not a courtship, much less sexual relations,”

“Wait, are you like gay?”

Alastor scrunches his brows “Absolutely not! I have never felt that for any men either!”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“We’ve had sex,”

Alastor Frog blinks “Yes, and?”

“You don’t desire that from me?”

“I quite enjoy your company,”

Voe strolls around the room, lost in thought. Alastor’s eyes followed her, growing frustrated at the lack of attention he was getting from her. He slams his cane on the ground, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looks back at him and inhales, preparing to say something.

“It sounds like you,” she paused “are AroAce.” Alastor tilts his head to the side in confusion “Aromantic asexual.” He still does not understand “Okay, sit down.”

He sits down with a twirl of his cane. “Aromantic means that you do not or very rarely experience romantic attraction. And asexual means the same thing, but for sexual attraction.”

“And how do I know this applies to me?”

“Have you ever felt romantic attraction?”

“No, but that’s because I have more important things to take care of.”

She rolls her eyes “Okay, but never? Romantic attraction doesn’t abide by logic.”

“No. Never.”

“And sexual attraction?”

“I have been enjoying your company.” He blinks at her

“But would you want my ‘company’ if it weren’t mating season?”

He thinks “No. Well, maybe.”

“Okay, well why did you choose me?”

“Because it made the most sense.”

“Okay great! It’s because it works out to you, logically?”

“Well…yes.”

“So it’s not because you find me personally attractive?”

He tilts his head “I find you attractive.”

Voe shuts her eyes “Yes, but are you sexually attracted to me?”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking me. I find you attractive and we have been sexually active.”

“Yes, I know, but when you met me…did you have the thought or desire to have sex with me?”

“No.”

“Did you develop that thought or desire before October?”

“No.”

“And when you did develop that thought, was it because of anything about me specifically? Like were you thinking, ‘She specifically is so hot. I wanna fuck her?”

“Do people think that about other people?”

“Yes! I thought that about you!”

“Oh,” he seems shocked and flattered “Well, no.”

“And are you romantically attracted to me?”

He’s taken aback by the question “What?”

“Like did you think of or desire to start a relationship with me at any point before this moment?” She is asking for an admission of fact, not a declaration of feelings.

“No.”

“But you care about me?”

He thought twice before answering the question “Yes.”

“What exactly do you feel for me?” She asked bluntly

He remained quiet for a long moment. Alastor wasn’t sure how to answer that question, and not knowing things made him very uncomfortable.

“I suppose I’m unsure my dear.”

“Try and describe it. Like you don’t love me right? Do you see me as your friend?”

“Well-“ he stopped himself to think more “No.”

“Okay, so you see me as more than a friend. But not as a lover?”

Alastor’s head was buzzing with all these questions. He’d never really had to think about what he felt about another person, mostly because he hadn’t felt strong feelings for another person like this before Voe. She was more to him than anyone else in Hell, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, it was driving him up the wall.

“I am not sure that I like this conversation very much.”

Voe could sense him getting frustrated. These things were hard to understand, especially for a man like him who was from a time when the only thing you were allowed to be was heterosexual.

“It’s okay,” she kneels before him, gracing his hands in hers “What do you feel for me? Just tell me. In your own words.”

Alastor inhaled, calmed by her gentle hands on his tight ones. Her thumbs carefully glided over his knuckles.

“I feel…” A red tint crawled up his face as he turned away

“Hey,” she whispered, “It’s just me.” Her wide eyes shone brightly in the darkroom “I want to help you understand, but you have to help me understand first okay? I promise it’s just you and me. And that’s how it will stay” She gives him a reassuring smile and he exhales again.

“I feel like I want you around all the time. It’s not romantic, but it’s not just friendly either. I love looking at your face like it’s a painting in a museum. I love hearing you speak like you’re my favorite jazz record. Sometimes, I find myself missing you when you’re not around. I want to touch your skin, hug you, and brush against your hand. I want to run my fingers through your hair. I want to protect you because I can’t bear the thought of losing you.” As he confessed his feelings, his cheeks turned red, and Voe was taken aback and flattered at the same time. She had received many compliments before, but these felt particularly meaningful and rewarding.

"Okay," she stood up and pushed her hair back. "So you can identify as an aromantic asexual."

"Can it be fixed?" he asked, looking up at her in a role reversal that felt strange but comforting.

"No," she replied as she sat beside him, "because you're not broken."

Those words caused his eyes to widen in disbelief. His brain struggled to process the idea that he didn't need to be "fixed." The words bounced around in his head, and he didn't react physically, completely unaware of what he looked like on the outside. It was as if he was short-circuiting. Voe gripped his shoulders and snapped him back to reality.

“What does that mean about the two of us?”

She looks up at him “Nothing. We’re two demons enjoying each other’s presence. Nothing has to change unless you want it to.”

They don’t speak for a few moments.

"I think I know why I'm not afraid of you," she spoke softly, leaning on Alastor's chest as they sat in the dark room.

"And just why is that?" His chin rested on her forehead, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I see you," she said. "I see past your showy flashes of power and your need to be larger than life. I don't know why, but I just see you as a man. I mean, how many people have said 'I think the Radio Demon is a cutie'? Exactly. No one. But I do. I think you're cute and soft and squishy," she squeezed him a little. "Because I see you. I don't know if that bothers you or not."

She pressed her hand on his chest, but he didn't respond. He was scared of his thoughts because the truth was that it didn't bother him at all.

“And by the way,” he looked down at her once more “You can have romantic feelings without romantic attraction,”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Once the clock struck midnight, Voe’s phone vibrated on the end table and lit up in the darkness. The light cut through her sleep mask, illuminating an entire half of the room. Voe reaches for her phone blindly, sitting up once it’s in her hands. She lifts her eye mask to read the name of the sender.

Vox.

Voe looks over her shoulder at Alastor on the other side of the bed, knocked out cold, ears twitching. She does her best to be silent as she opens the message and reads:

Hey gal pal! What’s new? 😉

Voe rolls her eyes. She looks back at Alastor sleeping so soundly. He looked so sweet, as he breathed in and out letting out a soft fawn squeak. She turns back to her phone smiling to herself.

Nothing.

Voe stares at her phone in anticipation, waiting as the typing bubbles pulse on the screen. Finally, Vox sends his reply.

👍

And that was it. Her heart sank into her stomach. She sat staring at the phone, waiting for something, anything to let her know what that meant, but nothing came. She laid her phone face down on the nightstand, lowered her eye mask, and scooched toward Alastor’s tall frame, putting her cheek against his cheek and spooning him from behind. Whatever happened next, would be worth it or this.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Voe was tense for the entire morning and afternoon. Checking her phone every second, imagining it vibrating when it wasn’t, checking it over and over again expecting to see some correspondence from Vox or Velvette, maybe even from Valentino, but again there was nothing. When Voe was still checking her phone at around 11 AM that’s when it was plucked from her fingers by sharp red ones. Her head darted up toward the thief and of course, it was Alastor.

“Your eyes have been glued to this tiny picture box all morning, my dear. It’s beginning to get annoying,” he commented, holding the phone as if it were revolting to him “Why don’t we send that somewhere you can’t reach it,” and it disappeared with a clap of his hands

“Hey! Give it back,”

Alastor touches his chin “No, I don’t think I will, technology rots the brain, my dear. Keep your eyes on something valuable, like me,” his grin widens when he looks at her

Voe relaxes a bit “Sounds like you’re jealous of a smartphone,” she smirks

“Anything that takes your attention away from me is bound to spur jealousy, darling,”

She plays along “Well, that makes sense, my attention is precious and hard to come by. So it’s quite special,”

“We definitely agree there,” he pulls her by her hips, and her anxiety and tension melt away once his hands make contact with her body

By late afternoon she had completely forgotten about her phone and Vox as Alastor held her attention. Telling corny jokes and puns that had her laughing her ass off. His grin touched his ears as he watched her doubling over with laughter.

“Okay okay, it’s only funny because it’s stupid,”

“Nope! It’s funny because it’s funny!” he folds his hands over his knees, snickering himself

She snorts with laughter, covering her mouth and nose, and she turns away to hide her blushing face.

Alastor’s eyes widen at the sound “What was that?” he asks with a shit-eating grin, but Voe can’t stop herself from laughing long enough to answer, she snorts again in an attempt to answer. Alastor finds an immense amount of joy at this reaction, just watching her taken over by laughter.

By early evening, Angel could be heard in the parlor groaning about a lack of TV options.

“There’s fucking on!” he yells flipping through the channels, he lands on Vox 2-Nite “I guess I can watch this,” he chuckles “Maybe he’ll have another breakdown,” Angel mocks Vox’s voice “Now that’s good television!” and cackles to himself

Voe and Alastor enter the front area, and her ears pick up on the programming, she leaps over to Angel on the couch.

“What’s that Angel?” she hangs over the back of the couch

“Vox 2-Nite,” he leans back, draping his arm over the back of the couch

Voe’s head snaps up towards the screen “What?!”

“Vox 2-Nite!” he says slightly louder and annoyed

Voe rushes over to the front of the couch to reach for the remote, but Angel is faster.

“Uh, yoink! Relax, wait your turn,”

“I don’t think you wanna watch something like this, it’s super boring, I’ve been there while they filmed it,”

Angel raises his eyebrow, convinced she’s gone mad “Uh, I’m watching it,” he puts the remote on the other side of him

Voe sits, her fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the couch. She’d had a great day, maybe Vox wouldn’t do anything? He seemed to take it pretty well when she texted him this morning. All the tension that disappeared with Alastor’s touch, all came rushing back now. It was in her veins, running through her bloodstream. She couldn’t find a way to sit still, her hands, legs, feet, and even toes wriggled. Her heart was palpitating like it was about to burst and her ears were twitching, as if picking up sound from every direction.

“You sure you don’t wanna watch something else, Angel?”

He pushes her off the couch by her face “Shush!!”

She sits up on the floor, feeling the sweat roll down her face and her legs onto the floor. She turns to the TV screen.

“Thank you, Celia, for telling us about your wonderful magazine cover, really great,” Vox shoves the woman off-camera, and a loud crash is heard along with a scream. He sits back down at his desk. “Now let’s actually talk about something important. Tonight’s very special segment is about my friend, the Radion Demon.” He wiggles his fingers “Hi Alastor,”

“I really think you should change the channel,” Voe pleads from on the floor

“Geez, what’s gotten into you?” he looks down at her, amused

She pulls her hands together “Angel please!” she begs

“Now I definitely wanna watch it!” Angel runs his tongue over his teeth, then turns the TV up

“My dear people, I want you all to know that our friend Alastor is not the scary Overlord that you all know and fear. He’s actually one of the biggest softies that has ever graced Hell!”

Voe’s eyes could not leave the screen no matter how hard she tried to look away.

“First and foremost, Alastor…you miss your mommy? Hard to believe she misses you, Heavenly lady like that? She’s probably glad to be rid of you! So it’s okay. You don’t have to feel like an ‘abomination’, since all of Hell and Heaven, including your mom, agrees! Or was it your dad?” Vox shrugs “Maybe both!” The crowd laughs and Vox clutches as he laughs heartily “Woo! Anyway, no seriously Alastor, is that why you got your ass kicked by Adam? Thinking too much about your Mommy? Wish she could come to kiss your boo boo?” Vox drags his finger diagonally across his chest to mimic Alastor’s scar “Or did your little doe do that for you? That’s right sinners, the Radio Demon is dizzy with a dame! Too bad she doesn’t love you back!” Vox laughs uncontrollably with the crowd, kicking his long legs in the air. “I wouldn’t love someone who stole my panties either!” The crowd erupts in ‘Oohs’ “‘Ooh’ is right! You would not believe that he actually got into her pants! I guess the Radio Demon is on a roll!” he leans forward on his desk “But it seems like she wears the pants anyway, someone finally got the Radio Demon to shut up! Who’dve thought some measly doe, would have the Radio Demon whipped?! Guess you needed a new Mommy, since apparently you don’t know how to brush your teeth! Didn’t realize the mommy issues were that bad! Do you cook for her? Do you clean for her? Do you bathe her? Wait wait, or does she bathe you?! Or maybe not, ‘cuz that is why you wanted to do radio right? So nobody would have to look at you?”

The crowd bursts into laughter. Vox hits his desk with his fist.

“Do you get down on your knees and massage her feet? Hmm? Geez Al, just say you want a new Mommy! Don’t fall in love with her! Gosh!”

“Aw damn,” Angel whispers, slowly turning up the volume again. Cherri Bomb plops down next to him

“Aw shit,” she says

Vox chuckles some more, wiping a tear from his eyes “Honestly Alastor, you’re such a character. I thought you were boring, but you’ve got moves don’t you? Like, on the dance floor! You like to boogie?! Show us those moves Alastor. Show us how Old Timey pricks get down!” he gets up and pretends to dance, making the crowd laugh “Honestly, I’m glad you learned to brush your teeth because dipping someone and breathing on their face is pretty weird…what? Are you gonna hide away again for another 7 years? Hmm? Seriously, what were you doing in all that time? Was that like a business trip? Or did depression take hold of you? Maybe let it next time! Seriously, kill yourself, we do NOT want you around. Seriously,” Vox’s smile falls, then perks back up

The entire parlor is full of demons watching and listening. Voe clutches her knees thankful that it was finally over, and that he hadn’t mentioned her at all, so maybe she could come up with some story that someone had bugged them or overheard-

“Honestly before I leave you all tonight, I’d like to give a special thanks to Hell’s greatest influencer, Voe the Beau. We couldn’t have done it without you Voe…welcome to the team!” Vox’s grin turns maniacal. The crowd gasps “Now I know, Voe is everyone’s favorite influencer and you’re all thinking ‘she wouldn’t do that’, well as this generation says ‘I have receipts’,” Vox displays the texts between her and Velvette on the screen.

Voe cannot handle the idea of being perceived at this moment. She tugs at her ears and rocks back and forth on the ground, every sound around her replaced with a loud ringing. Suddenly her clothes were too tight, the floor was too hard, and she felt a fist in her stomach. Her flesh and bones feel like they’re about to burst out of her skin.

“So Voe, thanks. Really, thumbs up,” he puts up his thumb to the camera “That’s all for Vox 2-Nite! Play me out guys!” an offscreen band starts playing swing music to the credits before Angel blankly turns it off.

“Okay, I turned it off….” Angel looks around the room “Imma go,”

“Yup, me too!” Cherri hops off the couch

“Niffty come on!”

Niffty looks confused “Where we going?”

“Your favorite place!” Angel scoops her up

“Where’s that?”

“I’ll show ya!”

Husk grabs three bottles from the bar, running after them “Wait for me!”

“Let’s go, Charlie,” Vaggie grabs her girlfriend and flies up the stairs as the other residents disperse

It gets quiet and the ringing in Voe’s ears finally stops. She sits on the floor for a bit longer, trying to steady her breathing. She hears the click of dress shoes approaching her, and a black hand with red fingers enter her field of vision as she continues to stare at her feet. She stares up and Alastor, his hand calmly outstretched. She takes it and stands, her face is red and she tries to keep down tears as she wipes off her dress. She avoids his gaze, holding her arm, and smiling nervously.

“Unlock this,” his voice is monotonous, free of filter and pizazz

She glances toward him and sees her phone in his fingers. She looks away again “You know he’s lying right?”

“Vera,” the way he spoke her name no longer had the same charm or luster. It was cold and distant. It was dead.

She doesn’t respond, still looking away from him.

“Vera, unlock this phone.”

“No,” she says quietly

He is quiet for a moment “You do know what you saying ‘no’ means right?”

She still won’t look at him, her heart beating so hard and fast she was sure he could hear it.

“You know what I hate more than liars? Cowards,” he spits “You’re a coward”

Voe couldn’t stand to hear him speak to her this way, she couldn’t believe this was the same man who spoke her praises only the day before. The same hands that held her gently, and the same lips that kissed hers softly so many times before.

“He did say things that weren’t true,” she mumbled

Alastor’s eyes widen “Well! Tell me the untrue things that he said! Please! Enlighten me!”

“Well-“

“I was being sarcastic. I don’t give a fuck about your excuses!” his volume increases “You’re so certain that he’s lying that you’re not even looking at me! That’s how certain you are!”

She slowly turns her head up to face him, being met with his cold furious eyes. Eyes that she had never been on the receiving end of. It made her shiver, for the first time, in fear.

“I didn’t know he was going to do that,” her eyes darting around everywhere but his gaze

“And what did you think they wanted the information for? To gossip at tea? Did you not think to ask why they wanted this information?”

Voe ignores this question, as she is ashamed that her answer was no. “I don’t know,”

“I warned you…I warned you about this…and you chose not to listen. You chose to spit in my face, after all the things I’ve done for you,”

“You owe a favor,” she blurts out

Alastor raises an eyebrow in disbelief “Are you serious?”

“Yes,”

He scoffs “Oh my goodness what??”

“You let me explain myself,”

Alastor places his arms behind his back in controlled rage as he stands there in silence, giving her room to speak.

Voe swallows before opening her mouth “I didn’t know you. And I didn’t they wanted to do that to you, yes I didn’t ask but I also didn’t know your history with them. And then after you told me that fake stuff to tell Vox, I thought it was just like a joke. I didn’t know any of the backstory, I didn’t know anything! I didn’t know…you.”

“I told you that, because I didn’t trust you. And I was right,”

“Once I knew you I stopped,”

Alastor groans “The ‘once I knew you’ bullshit. You didn’t know me but decided to bother me for weeks, and I could have killed you at any point in time, but I didn’t. Because I didn’t know you, and I wanted to.”

“I didn’t tell them the worst of it! That’s why he did this! That’s why Vox did all of this! Because I chose to stop giving him information, because…I care about you,” her voice gradually fades out

“You don’t care about me,” he states this coolly

“That’s not true! I do! Now…”

He is quiet for a moment, neither of them daring to speak.

“So this is what you meant when you said you like to ‘collect facts’?”

“No! Not at all!”

“Seems like you care more about being famous than me,”

Voe balls up her fists “In the beginning, yes! But not now! I was doing it because I had to. Velvette owns me, she owns my soul! I can’t not do what she says!”

Alastor chuckles dryly “So you wouldn’t give your soul to me, but y̷o̶u̷'̴d̴ ̸g̵i̵v̶e̵ ̴i̷t̸ ̶t̷o̶ ̶t̸h̴e̷m̸?̴” His filter glitching as his rage increases

Her mouth goes dry “I gave it to get something in return, you refused to tell me what you wanted it for. And I had already signed the contract when you asked…”

“Hmm. Did Velvette ever tell you what she wanted your soul for?” He tilts his head “Or did she dangle a carrot in front of you and you agreed without asking questions? Is that a trend with you?

N̸̛̛̰̝͍̮̠̏̄̌͜͝ͅo̸̧̡̟̫̗̟̞̪̲̞̹̘̒̈́̌̎͗̈́ͅt̷̢̮͇̞̬̲̞̊̃̐̉̓̏̿͝ ̸̡̫͕̦̦͙̟̙̩̱̙̬̫͚̎̄ą̴̡͍̹̦͔͈̟͚̦͈̅͜s̵̨̥̥̠̮̻̮̈́ͅͅk̷̛̛̞̜͑͐̀̉͑̇̃̈́̚̚ͅi̶̫̥̽̈̆n̶̢̰̙͖̤̲͓͇̻̟̪̫̺̒̂̄g̸͓̟͖͈̹͇̲̾͒́̓̅̍͆͠ ̷̨̢̜̤̟̺̣̗̼̝̹̪̦͍̉̌̄͘q̷̧̡̝̻̳͕̰̈́ụ̸̓̈̍̓̑̿̿́͘̚͝ę̵̥̱̭̤̥͔̺͔̎̓̑̍́͋̌̏̅̕͝s̸͉̖͐̂̒̾͌̂̍̐̾̓̿̂̊ͅt̴͇͔͇̘̞́̂̐͗̕͜ͅį̶̨͇͍̗̫̦͆̐̃̿̅̌o̶̬̞͖̤̱̥̯͖̖̫̿̀͑̔̑͜͝͝n̷̡̡̠̺̝̹̱̩͚̪̖̖̐̒̂ș̶͍̰͉̺͍̫̞̝͙̘̍͋͆̇̆͂̀͗̀͑̀͑͘̕?̵̢̨̤̙͈͙̗͖͉͇̲͚̇̏̕͜ͅ” Alastor slowly begins morphing into his full demon form

Tears begin to fall from Voe’s eyes“You don’t understand! This was a chance to make my dreams come true! To show that I’m important! A chance to prove that my existence is worth something!” her desperate pleas fall to deaf ears

“Î̷̧̦ ̶̗̻͕͒Ŵ̴̢̲͕̑O̸͇̠͑̆̍U̸̪͌̾͘L̴̝̹̙͐̚͝D̸̢̊ ̵̮͕͇͆͛M̷̯̆͗A̶̱̲̋͋̊K̴̻̦̠̅̇É̶̹̮̆ ̷̖͎̜̀Ÿ̵̟́̿O̵̟͋͒̄Ṳ̵̩͊̆́R̴̳͎̀ ̸̮̆́D̸̫̜̟͂̔R̸̰̉Ḛ̵͂̎Ȧ̵͉M̴̖̲̥͑S̴̛̳̄͗ ̴̩͗͒͌C̵͕̬̯̄̍O̸̤͔͔͗M̶̰͔̣̿̄͝E̸̮̓̄ ̷͚͖̒̈́͜T̷̢͕͙̕R̴̤̓͠ͅŪ̴̩͝E̴͔̺̙͌͘!̶͉͕͒ ̸̡̧͗Ḯ̷̘̍ ̵̥̘̦̈́Ẅ̷̩́̑̚O̵̱̺͌̓̒U̶̙͋̕Ḽ̴̳͖̌̚D̶̺̤̏̈́͒'̶̺̱̫͋V̶͔͉̝̌́́Ē̸̞̣̭̿͠ ̵͉̕D̴̢͔̺̐͑͘O̸̹̯̥̐Ń̷̪͕̾͜Ẹ̶̤͉̍̌ ̴̛̘͚́̑A̴͉̥̻͗̍̍N̵̡̦̊̄Ỳ̴̨͆͗T̶̘̲͋H̴̺̤̋̇͝I̶̧̓̌́N̴͈͎͝G̴͙̗̹̾̓͠ ̷̬̄̈̃F̵̨̖̅͝Ȏ̵͇̰̩̑̈́R̵͈̎̀ ̵͈̹̏̎̀͜Y̷͍̺̏̓O̵̡̝͎͌̆Ủ̸͈!̴̘͕̉̉Y̶̗͎̰͐O̸̜̹͓̐͆Ủ̸̗̑R̶̬͔̒̈́ ̷̰̿̅̚Ē̸̩͑͠ͅX̷̩̊͌̀I̴̥̎̑́S̷̨̓̾͘T̵̤̾͂E̴̓ͅN̵͉̋͂̐C̸̙͕̑Ë̵̡́̌ ̷͔̌M̸̡͎̚͝A̷̛̫̒ͅT̵̛̰̃̈́Ţ̸̝͔̏E̵̬͐̎͝R̵͖̩͒Š̷̩͖̤͝ ̵̟̽͛͋ͅT̷͙́O̶͊̅ͅ ̸͔̿́̃M̴̭͐͊È̸̯̳͌͘!̴̧̫̻͐͘̕!̷͖́̔” He shakes his head to calm himself back down, but only slightly “At least, it used to. I don’t even know why I decided to trust you. You told me upfront who you were. You have a ‘tendency’ to ruin people’s lives! Are you sure it’s not a hobby? Finding powerful men and tearing them down?!”

“That’s not what I was doing to you!” Her voice cracks trying to make herself heard

“Ì̷͍ ̴̖́D̵̦͠Ỏ̸̜N̶̟͆'̷̩́Ť̴̡ ̷͉̏W̴̢̕Á̶͜N̵̥̉T̴̤̍ ̷̨͊T̶͉̋Ò̴̙ ̵̫̒H̶̼̅Ȅ̸̲A̶̛͕R̶͈̿ ̷̭͂A̶̭͗ ̸̢́W̷̯̓O̴̗̊R̷̼̍D̸͇̑ ̴̞͊Y̸̧͒O̸̜͌U̸̩͝ ̴͓̂H̷̓ͅÁ��͈V̷̜͠È̷̻ ̶̧͛T̶͇̑O̸̦̓ ̷̯͒S̶̹̚Ä̶̡́Ÿ̶̬!” he takes his giant claws, grabbing her by the middle and launching her out the hotel doors. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, pain in her back and legs, she lay on the ground feeling like the piles of dirt around her were the only things that she was worthy of, and let her tears fall along with the acid rain in the sky.

(I would like to clarify that I am aware that Alastor is from Louisiane, and would likely know Louisiana Creole aka 'Kouri-Vini', I am headcanoning that his mom taught him both creole and France french, since France french is spoken by more people, okay? Okay.)

(Also I really hope that my definition and explanation of what it means to be AroAce is accurate, I did a WHOLE lot of research to prepare for this part and if anything is inaccurate please just correct me!)

Chapter 20>

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wheelin-after-midnight · 5 months ago

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15.

Do you have any big plans for November?

November is over, but I didn't.

What upcoming event are you most looking forward to?

Nothing. I would have said seeing the Tina Turner musical off Broadway in February if I had been able to get tickets, but I wasn't.

What was the last song you heard?

Steamy Windows - Tina Turner.

Quote something from last night:

Idk. I was alone aside from Nippy being here. I guess it's funny how she now answers to potato as well as her other names and nicknames. I sometimes just say "hello, potato" when she's lounging on me. I went into the kitchen and was like, "where's my sweet little potato?!" and she came running and hopped onto the counter.

What time did you wake up today?

I haven't gone to sleep yet, lmao. FML. :/

What does your last incoming text say?

Babe was telling me about coffee mate apparently coming out with some limited edition peanut butter and jelly coffee creamer. 🤢🤮

Is there a vase in the room you’re in?

No.

Any plans for today/this evening?

Nothing special.

Have you recently been insulted?

No.

What is the radio in your car tuned to at this exact moment?

I don't have a car. Can't drive.

Compared to someone else of your age and gender; do you feel that you have a lot to offer someone?

I tell babe all the time, you could be with someone physically normal, somebody without these problems, without the trauma. And she comes back with things like "yeah, but they're not you." "Years of hurt have damaged you, but I still see the amazing woman behind all that. You'll always be a light, it's just your nature."

She loves me, so I do my best to let her. To trust her. To be the best I can to her, even if and when my insecurities are screaming. My negative, dark thoughts and outside opinions aren't the ones that matter. She chose me and she's not forced to stay, so I guess the offering of myself is enough.

How many days a week do you work?

I don't.

Are there people you feel more connected to than others?

I mean, yes? Human beings naturally can't be or feel equally connected to everyone in the entire world.

Is there ONE person you feel more connected to than others?

Yes.

Are you more like your mother or your father?

I'm nothing like either of my parents. That's a pretty conscious choice on my part.

Where did your eye color come from?

My mum.

Describe the pants you are wearing:

They're just red and black plaid pajama pants.

Have you ever been in a recording studio?

Noooo, I wish!

What is your worst relationship quality?

Getting in my head during bad days or harder times and thinking that what babe did to me before our breakup will happen again. It's a lot less frequent of an intrusive thought than it was in the beginning, now that we've been solid for quite a long time. She has proven herself. She still does. When I need reassurance, she'll give it to me. She told me she made a big mistake, that she would spend the rest of her life showing how sorry she is and what I mean to her, and so far she has. It's usually a pretty fleeting thought, at this point. I'm not gonna ruin a relationship by letting it stay with me and letting what could or might happen eat at me too much. Anybody can leave. Shit happens. But we love and do our best for each other. All that matters right now.

What was your most recent serious injury?

I fucked up my shoulder trying to keep from slipping/falling on ice while transferring into Brittany's car this weekend when we went to go see Wicked. :/ thank god I didn't go completely down. Made us slightly late to the movie, but we'd both rather deal with that than the alternative. They really need to do better at plowing/salting the parking lot.

What were you most recently happy about?

That I didn't actually fall on ice and disable myself further. Also that Nippy's been especially cuddly lately, I guess. That's always nice.

Are you happy with the way the Yankees are playing?

I don't care at all.

Are you a fan of cake?

Not particularly, actually. There's other desserts I would choose before cake, in most cases. I do love carrot cake, though.

What shirt have you not worn in a while that you would like to?

Idk. Everything I own and haven't gotten rid of I wear pretty regularly.

When was the last time you were hit on?

Idk. Babe calls me beautiful and sexy and hot often, but we're already together. Anytime I get questions about being hit on I'm considering her and things that she does or says for my answer. I don't care if anybody else tries to hit on me and that never happens anyway.

What is the next concert you are going to and where are you seeing it?

I don't have anything planned right now. I do really want to go see Pink with Brittany after I'm moved if she comes back around at that time and we can get tickets. But I would love to see whatever, honestly. We both just love live theatre and live music sooo much. Even if we're not like super fans of the thing or the artists, we'll pick things and go. It exposes one or both of us to new music and we like the vibe and the experience.

Name someone you know who is most likely to be found at a bar on Wednesday night?

My dad's an alcoholic, so it's very likely he's probably at one or another near to his place if he's not working really late.

#surveys #personal #text #questions #survey

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solitaryearthperson · 2 years ago

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Shopping for Jess

Summary: The reader takes Jessica shopping for more stuff for the apartment.

(The reader is female and the age is 18+. The ethnicity/race is any.)

“Jess,” I said her name, shaking her shoulder a little to get her to wake up.

The only response I received was another tired grunt and her digging her face further into her pillow.

“Jeeess,” I whined, shaking her shoulder harder, finally seeing her open her eyes and lift her head from the pillow. She turned and looked up at me with annoyance and her dark hair tangled and messy on her head,

“What,” She asked, yawning.

“We need to go to the store.”

“Why?”

“Because you have no food.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Maybe it was because of her being drunk damn-near 24/7 or being a super person, but Jess tended to forget that she needed to eat and eat regularly.

“I can order pizza or something, later.” She grabbed her cover and was about to turn to lay back down, but I quickly pulled it from her hands and pulled the rest of it off her.

“We’re going to the store and picking up things to eat. Healthy food. Food you can eat everyday to be healthy.” I didn’t give her time to respond as I quickly turned and left the room, deciding to sit on her ugly couch and wait for her to get dressed and ready.

“I can literally just order something,” I heard her whine again as we entered another aisle. “Pizza, Chinese, Thai, Mexican-”

“But yet, you're picking up a box of cereal,” I interrupted her, looking over my shoulder to see her putting a large box of Frosted Flakes into the shopping cart.

“You said to get food I’ll eat,” she said, defensively.

Taking a couple cans of soup from the shelf and dumping them in the cart, I turned to her. “I said healthy food, as well.”

I looked down into the cart and counted all the things we had. Most of the things I picked up were cans of soup and fruit in case of emergencies, whole fruits and vegetables, frozen dinners, and various other things, while most of the things Jessica dropped in, were absolute junk food and booze.

“I’m super. I can’t get sick, remember,” she reminded me for the hundredth time.

“You’re not invincible. You need to stay strong and healthy.”

“I am healthy. And strong.”

“Drinking bourbon day and night, and only eating takeout is not what most doctors consider healthy, but okay.” I grabbed the cart and began pushing it into the next aisle. “You have any tampons?”

“Um,...” Jessica stayed silent, looking at me, unsurely.

“So you don’t know,” I continued into the aisle and picked up a box and dropped it into the cart. “Does being super mean no more periods or keeping track of them?”

“Excuse me if I don’t know the exact number of shit in my place,” she replied.

“You need any toilet paper, paper towels...”

“Ummm,” Again, Jessica didn’t know the answer and once again, I wondered how this woman survived for so long.

"Okay, let's go get some more," I sighed turning the shopping cart around and making my way to the next aisle, Jess following closely behind me.

After we got all the things we needed for her place, me and Jess both paid for the groceries and, using her super strength, she carried all of them to the car, telling me to not worry about it and to just get in the car and relax. I had a feeling that she was just going to dump all of it in the trunk and not even try to organize or arrange it safely, but I ignored it, already tired from all of the searching and walking around the store.

I was trying to find the right radio station for us, when she opened the car door and got in.

"You put everything in the trunk," I asked, giving up on the radio.

"Yep," she replied, but she had a strange look on her face.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't say anything for a minute, her face looked as if she was contemplating telling me something.

"Jess?"

"Thank you," she finally said, her voice stiff.

"For what?"

"For this," she pointed to the store. "For taking care of me. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Jessica," I could feel heat coming to my cheeks and decided it was best to begin the drive home now.

Putting my hand on the gear shift, I was about to place it in drive when I suddenly felt Jessica's hands grab my face and turn my head towards her to meet her lips with mine. Her actions took me off guard so at first I didn't do anything, but after a second I quickly reciprocated the kiss to her with enthusiasm. When I felt like I needed to breathe I slowly pulled away from her, keeping my face still close to hers.

"What was that for?"

"Cuz I love you and I don't say it enough," she told me, her pale cheeks turning light pink after she spoke.

Clearing her throat, she settled back into the passenger seat, trying to hide a grin that I could see was beginning to grow on her face. "So...let's go home and put all this shit up."

Like Jess, I tried to control the grin that was growing on my face and quickly put the car into drive. Jess wasn't good with expressing her emotions and she wasn't really a fan of PDA, so I knew it took a lot for her to do that, even if we're in the privacy of the v car. Pulling out of the spot and out of the parking lot, I began the drive back home, while my mind was coming up with different ideas to show Jess how much I loved her back.

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thinger-strang · 3 years ago

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Is This Some Midwest Thing? part two

read part one here

They all pile into the cruiser, Billy in the backseat this time, absently listening to Hopper and Joyce talk about magnets and which house they should go to.

To burn him out.

Billy shudders and starts chewing on his nails, trying to not think too much about how much this will probably hurt, considering the fucking sun blistered his skin earlier.

"We don't have a fireplace, I think the cabin's the best place to do this." Joyce says after Hopper brushed off her comments about the broken magnets.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, let's get all the heaters from your house then we'll head over, I'm going to radio El real quick, she didn't answer my message earlier." Hopper starts switching on the radio and twisting some dials.

Something inside Billy twists at the name, at "El".

"Who's, um, who's El?" Billy asks as he rubs the heel of his palm into one of his eyes.

"She's my kid, part of all this sci-fi crap too, kinda the start of it, actually," Hopper sighs. "You'll meet her when we get to my cabin."

The thing inside Billy twists and churns and Billy has flashes of a girl, looks about Max's age, with dark makeup, screaming and floating, blood running from her nose and ears. He's filled with hate and the need to destroy her.

"We can't. I can't meet her, He-He wants her, He's going to kill her," Billy croaks as he stares blankly ahead.

"What? What do you mean, why?" Hopper shouts and nearly swerves off the road to turn to look towards the backseat.

Billy feels himself start to fade away but he keeps talking, rougher, meaner than he wants to.

"For what she did. The army is for her. To destroy her so she can't ruin anything ever again."

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Joyce yells and gives Billy a nasty look.

"Joyce," Hopper says softly and reaches out to hold her arm. "He's possessed, that's not Billy."

Joyce calms down minutely and Hopper cranks the car's heaters all the way up. Billy groans and rests his head on the seat in front of him.

"Does El have powers? I saw her floating, from his memories," Billy mumbles, trying to not take the heat personally.

"Yeah she does, she's a telekinesis or whatever they're called, can move stuff with her brain. Pretty cool but kinda freaky–"

"Hop!" Joyce exclaims indignantly and slaps his arm.

"Hey I said her powers were freaky, not her!"

Billy feels like he's going to throw up.

"But she, she tried to kill him, the shadow? And she didn't and now he's inside me?" He can feel his eyes start to sting.

"It's okay," Joyce says gently, the first time she's been remotely nice to him this whole time. "We can fix this, we'll get it out–"

"By fucking burning it out of me! I got massive fucking blisters on my arm from sitting in the sun for like, twenty minutes and everything fucking hurts because it's too warm for him and I just want to stop hurting all the time!" Billy lets out a sob and hugs his arms around his middle.

Hopper and Joyce make sad eye contact and Joyce shifts so she can reach around the bench to rub Billy's back. He flinches hard then shakes her off, scooting out of her reach.

He's just a scared kid, Joyce thinks to herself.

"Billy, I know you're scared but we have to do this. You can't fight it forever, it's easier to get it out while you're still in control."

Billy thunks his head against the window and stares out at the road passing by for a second before nodding and curling in on himself a little bit more.

"Fine, but it's not my fault if he tries to stop you."

That statement doesn't fill Joyce or Hopper with confidence but it's a start at least.

///

Hopper skids into Joyce's driveway and ignores her indignant "Hop!" as he gets out of the car.

Joyce lets them in and tells Hopper where most of the heaters are. Billy stands next to the door, shuffling from foot to foot, glancing around the living room.

He didn't really care to look around last time he was here, he was a little preoccupied then. Now, he sees a sagging couch and a bright yellow phone and a coffee table full of dings and covered in comics and magazines and drawings and homework. He sees a warm kitchen with dirty dishes and a dining room with a stained glass light and a scratched up table half covered in a stained table cloth. He sees nail holes in the walls and overflowing bookshelves.

He knows what Neil would say about this place. He'd make remarks about the peeling wallpaper and the state of the place and he'd turn up his nose at the disorganization and how Joyce's kids seem to own the place more than she does. But Billy just sees love. He sees a mom who puts her kids drawings and grades on the fridge and who makes lighthearted jokes when dishes are dropped and who sits down with them and helps with homework.

It makes him think of his mom's apartment, a tiny thing he saw exactly once before Neil dragged him halfway across America.

Hopper stumbles over a looses cord from the armload of heaters he's carrying, shaking Billy out of his thoughts.

"You with us kid?" Hopper asks, unsure if he's talking to Billy.

"Yeah," Billy responds softly, rubbing his arm. "I'm here."

Joyce reappears with one more heater and smiles at Hopper's armful.

"You think you have enough heaters here, Byers?" Hopper hefts his load up a bit.

"Most of these are from when Lonnie would 'forget' to pay the heating bill, I just never got rid of them, you know how the winter gets sometimes!"

Billy likes the way she rolls her eyes when she says Lonnie's name.

///

They pull up to the cabin, something right out of a King book if you ask Billy. Hopper tells Joyce and Billy to stay behind while he talks to El, still not sure why she hasn't responded.

The two of them watch him go inside and Billy feels wave after wave after wave of dread wash over him. He's not sure how much is the shadow and how much is him. He presses on a small round scar on his arm and tries to breathe.

Hopper jogs out a long minute or two later clutching a piece of green paper in his hand.

"She's not here." He sounds pissed.

"What? What do you mean she's not here?" Joyce pushes open her door.

"She left a note, said she's going over to see Max, code red? Here," he hands Joyce the note and scrubs his hands over his face.

"Max? Mayfield? My sister?" Billy shouts and hops out of the car to look at the note.

It's a tense few minutes of reading and rereading the note. Hopper's torn between being mad at El for sneaking out and being glad she's socializing with a girl. Joyce is trying to calm Hopper down and remind him of the task at hand. Billy is running through every single possible scenario that could come of this, most end with him taking the punishment.

"OKAY! Listen, it's not ideal but Hop, she left a note this time! And she's still in Hawkins, last time she left without a word and ended up in Chicago, this is an improvement! But maybe we should worry about this after we deal with this, it sounds like she's at a friends house and I've met Max, she's very polite and can handle the boys better than I can sometimes, El is in safe hands." Joyce has her hands out in front of her like she's trying to calm a horse down.

"You're right, we can get her later, we have bigger fish to fry, let's get this over with."

The trio marches up to the cabin with heaters in tow, Hopper grumbling about radioing and communication as he unlocks the door.

Joyce sets up, plugs all the heaters in and drags a chair over to the fireplace. Clicks everything onto high. Takes off her work shirt so she's in a tee shirt.

Lights the fire.

Sets down a long coil of rope.

Billy's feet are moving before he can even think. He's backing up, backing himself up into the wall. The room is getting hotter and hotter and the voices behind his ears are getting louder. Screaming in pain so loud his ears start to ring.

"I can't do this, I can't do this, this was a bad idea." He's sweating bullets at this point.

"Billy we have to," someone says, he can't place who though.

"No I can't, He'll kill me, it'll kill me, I can't, I can't." He looks around and sees Hopper and Joyce just watching him, eyes filled with pity.

His vision starts to swim and he presses his thumb hard into the small circular scar on his arm again. Hopper's eyes flick down at the movement.

Billy's legs start shaking, he can feel the shadow in him, he can feel his agony.

He presses his thumb in harder.

"Don't be a pussy, you're lucky this is all I'm doing."

Hot, burning, sizzling.

"Men don't cry, get over it. My old man would hold my hand to the stove, you're getting off easy."

"Dad! Dad stop, stop it, it hurts!" Billy cries, trying to squirm out of Neil's hold.

"What did I tell you about breaking the rules, boy! There are consequences to your actions, the sooner you learn that the better."

Neil takes a long drag from his cigarette before pressing it into Billy's arm.

Billy screams, tears running down his face, begging his dad to stop.

He doesn't even know what he did.

Billy's on his hands and knees, shaking and heaving onto the hardwood floors of an unfamiliar cabin. Still crying.

Pussy.

He throws up black sticky ooze and lets himself fall onto his side, out of the puddle.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeats to the blurry figures in front of him.

"No, honey, it's okay, you're okay."

"You did good kid, just breathe."

There's a hand pushing his hair off his face. He can hardly see through all the sweat and tears in his eyes, but he sees long hair and a soft smile.

"Mom?" is all he gets out before passing out.

#billy #hopper #joyce #this is part two to is this some midwest thing?#fic #my writings

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cyphersuna · 4 years ago

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1. HUMAN DOGS

pairing: isaac lahey x fem!reader!mikaelson (Slow burn), derek hale x ex-lover!reader, mcCall pack x platonic!reader, original family x sister!reader, stiles stilinski x platonic!reader (at the moment)

sypnosis; Y/N Mikaelson arrives in a small town with the hope of becoming independent and having a new life but a near accident will turn her plans around and risk them knowing who he is.

Has the war of Original Vampires and Wolves started?

The smallest of the Mikealsons, will she be with a wolf?

Will Isaac accept Y/N?

warnings; none

author’s note: hello baeess, welcome to a new #saturdayofyouaremikaelson!!! I only hope you enjoy this chapter because your emotion excites me and if your emotion excites me, I will be excited to do more chapters to excite you. see you next week 😺

Word count; 1.7k

ﾟ･ 🌌ރ ੈ♡‧₊˚🎲 *ૢ✧ ۪ ♟️ ° ｡

YOU WERE ENTERING Beacon Hills while looking at the forest around you which looked spooky, possibly because it was night or they were infested with those human dogs. Possibly both. You still remember the faces of Niklaus, Kol and Elijah knowing that you would live here. You think it was the best thing in the world, but you get it. That your sister, the youngest of the Mikaelson clan, decides to move alone, with no one from her family nearby and in a "city" full of dogs. You would also worry.

It began to be heard on the radio lurk from the neighborhood to which you began to hum it. This century was very different: 16-year-olds look like 18 or 19, their type of clothing... You did not complain, it is better than the clothes of before.

Six teens and two adults appeared out of nowhere to which you stopped. You got out of the car and they watched you from head to toe. One in particular made your blood run cold. Derek Hale...

You sighed and spoke.

"Forgiveness! Are you okay?" You asked, and the bearded one came up to you.

"What are you doing here?" He asks and you start to breathe. Human dogs have to hear it and feel it so they know that you are not something supernatural. Speaking of that title, it's the best series and more daddy Dean. You pulled myself out of your thoughts and looked from left to right to fix your gaze on the dark haired man.

"Me?" He nodded. "Sorry. Do I know you?"

"Don't act, Mikaelson," he snap at and Peter comes closer to both of you. The Good Peter, he was more your brother than the ones you have, well not so much like that but he was like a brother.

"I think you're wrong" you say to see him in the eyes. "My name is not like that" you say playing stupid, well! When you don't? Coming here you thought that Derek and Peter would leave and more because of what happened to his sister who did not doubt that Peter would kill her. But just in case you knew you would have to change your first and last name.

"It's not a name," says the older of the two raising an eyebrow. "What's your name?" He ask.

"Diane Jones" you say pretending to be a little scared. You saw how Derek would glare at you deadly and the teens stared at the scene in confusion. Wow! The redhead's shoes were fantastic.

"What brings you to Beacon Hills?" Asked Peter.

"I came to live here" you respond.

"Alone?" Said the one with black hair, super furious. He looked sexier like that. "Without your parents?"

"Excuse me, but I don't have to tell you anything" You walked back and Derek took your arm tightly and the children approached looking worried.

"You won't leave until you answer." Peter put his hand on Derek's shoulder with a "calm down" look

"And your parents?" He asks calmly.

"I do not have. I'm an orphan" you say looking at your feet. Seriously, you deserve an Oscar for best actress.

"How did you get here?" Peter still asked.

"My uncles sent me here to study and not cause problems" you say looking at Peter.

"Don't li-" Derek says to be interrupted.

"It's not her" said Peter. "Listen" as you said, breathing helps and more if it is accelerated when you feel threatened.

"Can I go?" You asked.

"Yes" Peter says. You walked to your car and your turned it on to continue on your way, when you saw that you were far away you start to laugh. Derek's faces and the wolf children, the banshee, and the humans were gold.

You arrived at your new home. You smiled when you saw that it was normal, not big and not too small. A normal house. It was supposed to be furnished since yesterday. You got out of your car and opened to see the living room, you closed the door and walked into the kitchen and up the stairs. You went into all the rooms and they were perfect and yours was much more.

It was big, being a Mikaelson it couldn't be small. You were already beginning to miss them. Well not all. Elijah and Rebekah's overproduction were suffocating. Also you will no longer be listening "little Klaus" or "little Kol" You're not like them, you just like to have fun. And you like being with them more. Kol and you, hunted and had fun at parties and flirting with people. Klaus gave you life lessons. You were amused by his stories and how could he be so... him. Of your seven siblings, you only loved Kol and Klaus, of course you had your differences: you were friends with Katherine and Klaus hates her, you love the Salvatore brothers with your life and they detest them, even more. You lay down on the bed and you smiled a smile that only bring problems.

Isaac Lahey Pov

"It was her," Derek says, somehow I felt concern and more to see how he reacted when he saw the girl as our age.

"Who is she?" Scott ask.

"Y/N Mikaelson" Peter said calmly.

"And she is...?" Stiles question them.

"She is one of the Originals and Derek's great love," Peter replies.

"Original of what?" Lydia ask.

"From the Original Vampires," Derek says angrily.

"They exist?" Almost all of us say at the same time.

"Yes. And between them the two hybrid of Vampire and werewolf" explains Peter.

"What is a hybrid?" Allison ask to which Stiles responds.

"Hybrids are a supernatural cross between two or more different species. The term is commonly used to describe a werewolf turned vampire, as they were the first type of hybrid introduced to the world. However, since the creation of the werewolf-vampire hybrids, there have been other hybrids of other races in the universe, such as siphons turned into witch-vampire hybrids, werewolf-witch hybrids, among others" he says to finish.

"How do you know that?" Asks Scott.

"I read it when I was trying to find out what you were, but I thought the vampire thing was a lie," Stiles responds.

"A hybrid is more lethal than any werewolf or vampire" Says Derek. "Nature does not tolerate such an imbalance of power. Thus, the warlocks, the servants of nature, saw to it that the wolfish side of Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson are asleep. But they are still a danger.

"Who are the Mikaelsons?" I ask.

"The Mikaelson family is a powerful family whose line goes back at least to the Kingdom of Norway in the late 10th century with Mikael and Esther, a wealthy landowner and a Viking warrior, and a housewife and a witch, respectively. In the early 11th century, the family was deadly until the loss of Esther and Mikael's seventh child, Henrik to a werewolf attack that spurred them to use Esther's magic to turn Mikael and the rest of their living children into the The world's first vampires, from whom all Vampires are descended from the original vampires, are known as the most powerful supernatural beings in the world, but the Mikaelson family is also known to have members who are also witches and hybrids. Among them are two hybrids: Klaus and Y/N. In total the Mikaelsons are eight; Mikael, the father, Esther, the mother, Freya, The first daughter which is only a witch and does not belong to the original lineage, Finn, The second son, Elijah, the third son, Klaus, the fourth son which is the hybrid and is not the son of Mikael but bears his last name, Kol, the fifth son, Rebekah, the sixth daughter, Y/N, the seventh daughter which is not the daughter of Mikael and the last, Henrik, the eighth son. Of these eight only are alive: Freya, Elijah, Klaus, Kol, Rebekah and Y/N" Derek answers.

''They wasted no time," Stiles says.

"Neither is Esther. Children of different parents" I say smiling. "But how did "first hybrids" happen?

"When Klaus and Y/N first killed after being turned into vampires, they triggered their werewolf gene, which finally reveals the truth of their true paternity to their family: Klaus and Y/N were not Mikael's children but the boss's children of her village werewolf clan, with whom Esther had an affair. Once Mikael learned of Esther's infidelity and realized that her lover's pack were the werewolves who killed Henrik, Mikael hunted down and killed Klaus and Y/N's father and his entire family, igniting a war. Between vampires and werewolves that still exists. Shortly after the Mikaelsons became vampires and learned of Klaus and Y/N werewolves' legacy, Esther was forced to curse Klaus and Y/N to make their werewolf natures lie dormant, so that they didn't bother yet. More to nature by possessing so much power. However, Klaus and Y/N felt betrayed by this punishment, and in retaliation, Klaus murdered his mother and framed Mikael for the act. Understood?" Peter asks and I nod.

"I'm more than sure it's her!" Derek exclaims.

"It has to be her, if you questioned her or just stopped...-Lydia says to be interrupted by Peter.

"It's her Doppelgänger..."

Y/N Mikaelson Pov

You got out of the tub while you were dripping to grab the towel and start drying off. Tomorrow would be your first day in high school, you had never attended one and according to Caroline and Stefan they are very good, also Rebekah go into one and she looks older than you. You wrapped the towel around your body and left the bathroom to go to your room. You dropped the towel while you felt the air all over your body, you took off your underwear from the wardrobe and then put on a loose shirt and some pajama shorts. You go down to the kitchen for some whiskey and you go back upstairs. You arranged your things for tomorrow and left them arranged so that you only had to go...

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jungc6ck · 4 years ago

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Super (JJK x reader) Pt.1

🔥 Pairing: superhero/soulmate Jungkook x superhero/soulmate reader

💧Genre: superhero au, soulmate au, smut, angst

🔥 Rating: R (18+)

💧Summary: Jungkook was born as one of the lucky few to possess superpowers, so were you. He’s looked up to you ever since you’ve been fighting crime, so it makes perfect sense the universe would choose for you to be soulmates... unfortunately for him, you’re not even close to what everyone thinks you are. Behind that golden mask you wear is a less than golden person. Little does our clumsy and awkward hero know what you, this world, and the universe are about to put him through.

🔥Word count: 4k

💧 Warnings: cursing, violence, fighting, mention of sex and sexual acts and tiddies, future smut, future violence, future drinking problem, future mention of depression, future monsters (I’m just forewarning you that it’s going to get kind of dark)

“Hey! Pee-boy, wake up!”

Jungkook let out a little groan at the voice, letting it know he didn't appreciate the name-calling or being woken up.

“Jungkook” the voice now got growly and agitated.

Jungkook knew the voice, he just was too tired to respond.

“Get up!”

“How did you get in my room?” Jungkook muttered with his eyes still closed as he tried to roll over to escape Jimin’s nagging. His body rolled into unsupported nothingness and within a fraction of a second, his heart was racing right before his body made a collision with the cold wood floor. He knew he might as well wake up now.

Jimin cackled maniacally at the boy groaning in frustration and pain on the floor with his eyes now squinting open and looking up at his friend who sat in the chair at his desk beside the head of his bed.

“Your parents let me in.”

The only response the boy had was a sigh

“You know, because you’re twenty-three and still live with them… in their attic. To be honest it’s not even a cool lair.”

Jungkook finally sat up off of the floor and saw the neatly folded cloth Jimin had in his lap.

“Oh, this is for you. You should try it on.” He offered the fabric out to him.

Jungkook took it from him as he sat on the floor with his back against his bed and held it up the best he could to get a good look at it.

The spandex-looking material was a swirl of deep blue and silver reminding him of ocean waves at night.

“Thank you.” Jungkook gave his best friend a surprised but thankful smile before he went back to marveling at it.

“I can’t believe you made this, just for me.” He was astonished at his best friend’s talent.

“Well, you are my best friend… and a very special person. Oh! I almost forgot! The mask!”

Jimin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a navy blue silicone rubbery object and tossed it to Jungkook. “It ties in the back with a thin string to match your hair but the inside of it is made of the gell stuff they use in push-up bras to keep them in place.”

Jimin sounded proud of himself but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh until something dawned on him.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” Jungkook asked Jimin as his body froze up and mouth dropped open.

“Almost eleven-thirty.” His friend had pulled out his phone to check before replying.

“Shit! Work!” Jungkook jumped up and threw his new suit and mask on his bed before running over to his closet across the room.

“I’ll see you later, good luck today,” Jimin announced.

Jungkook had already grabbed a jacket and jeans and headed over to his friend now by the door to give him a quick hug and thank you, but accidentally and absentmindedly added a quick kiss to the side of his head which made Jimin laugh. Jungkook was in too much of a hurry to dwell on his mistake and too silly to take it back, plus Jimin had already left the room before he could even speak again. He grabbed a backpack and threw his new suit into it along with a few other things before leaving.

“Hell,” Jungkook mumbled to himself with an exasperated sigh as his shitty car refused to start for the third time. “Come on baby, you can do it.” He tried again “do it for me” with that, the noise of the engine roared to life, however it still sounded as though its life could end at any moment. “What a good girl.” Jungkook realized as he drove off the way he had been speaking to his car. He blushed a little to himself and was glad no one overheard it. He knew sometimes he could be a little oblivious to those things with never having sex even once in his life. Once a girl did let him feel her up though at her house while under the guise of studying back when he was in school. He had no idea she didn’t really invite him over to study for a science test, he didn’t even know when she was flirting with him until she got frustrated and asked him to kiss her and take off his shirt. Jungkook had gotten a little bored with it though and nervous around her and never went back over to her house. That couldn’t have been his soulmate, but sometimes he wonders if it had been since she had been the only girl to ever like him that he knew of.

He was twenty-three, lived with his parents, never went to college, never found his soulmate like everyone else has, and made pizza for a living. It wasn’t all that bad at least he was trying and at least he had a job. He was simply making due with what he was given in life and he was doing his best and that was what mattered… well that wasn’t exactly true… until recently.

He was given so much more than any average person, he had always just been too scared to use it or even tell anyone but his family and best friend. His best friend. Jimin had known him since they were both six years old. He was the first one to know about Jungkook’s powers and help him figure out everything he could do. A lot of the time he helped drive Jungkook and make him do what he needed to do and in return, he liked to listen to Jimin and help him solve problems in his life, or hear about his day. Jungkook knew he was lucky to have him as a friend, always supportive, always creative as a fashion designer should be, Jungkook felt lucky he didn’t ditch him a long time ago. Jimin was accomplished, on top of having a good job, he had found his soulmate already, a rich modeling agent named Taehyung.

Jungkook had asked Jimin before what it was like to meet him and he replied something along the lines of “when you meet your soulmate, you just know. It hits you hard, you both know the universe has put you together. It’s not just love, it’s something so much more, something… addicting.” He had also said he had seen Taehyung before in magazines and that Taehyung had seen him on tv, but nothing hit until they met in person.

Jungkook had always wondered if he even had one if he was meant for anyone at all especially with him being so different. His parents were soulmates, so were his grandparents. Everyone had one but maybe not him. Perhaps the universe had given him powers but no one to love.

He didn’t want to think about it so he turned up the radio as he drove slightly over the speed limit into the city where traffic seemed pretty bad today.

“Fire girl, what do you think of her? Who do you think she is?” A radio talk show that he was previously ignoring made his ears perk up at her name. He had been enamored with her for years now. Everything she did, every person she saved, everyone she fought, Jungkook had known about.

“I think she’s pretty, that’s for sure. As for who she is, I guess no one would ever know in a city this big, maybe if I came across her I would know. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere.” The second man said.

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff. They wouldn’t know. Not only did she wear a mask but he knew that a person’s hair and eyes changed when they activated their powers. She most likely didn’t even have red hair or yellow eyes in her everyday life, just like his hair wasn’t blue and neither were his eyes. Jungkook was just plain Jungkook when he wasn’t using his powers. It was obvious to him that everyone didn’t know that.

“What if it’s a wig?” The first man asked the second.

“Who’s got time to put on one? Especially with that whole skin-tight outfit. Where do you think she gets dressed? How do you think she knows when and where the trouble is?”

“She could wear it under her normal clothes.”The first man decided and that struck Jungkook as a good idea. “As for how she knows about crime? Maybe she listens to a scanner on the same frequency as the police? Perhaps she even just watched the news. All I know is that our city is lucky to have her.”

“Ahh I’m not sure about that. I’ve heard people born with powers are pompous jerks who think they can get away with anything, a lot of people think that.”

Jungkook had heard that too growing up. There were people like him and fire girl all over the world, while there weren’t many, some always seemed to get into trouble. That’s what stopped Jungkook from trying to be a superhero until now. He was afraid of looking like a dick-bag, he was even afraid of becoming one. Although Jimin assured him he could never be, he was still scared of slipping up. While some people didn’t care for superheroes, some people loved them, especially children. He just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he didn’t know if he was even good enough despite practicing in his backyard and taking taekwondo since he was a child. He wasn’t even comparable to fire girl.

As a child, he looked up to her, not just because she was pretty and cool, and could do so many things he couldn’t, not even because she had the exact opposite powers as he did. He looked up to her because she looked to be around his age, she made it all look so easy and she hadn’t been in any kind of scandal yet despite her five years as a public superhero. He thought maybe she was like him and that maybe she just wanted to do good in this world and not need the fame validation like some other heroes. Maybe she just wanted to help people like Jungkook did. He also thought that perhaps she might be grateful for some help.

This city was riddled with robberies, bad people, murderers, and just criminals in general, and even with knowing they would be stopped they all still tried for whatever reason. Jungkook also knew that the police in this town could be just as bad as the criminals and they were just as much egotistical jerks as some heroes were. Jungkook knew that just because you have power in any way didn’t mean you had to flaunt it and abuse it.

“She could be a terrible person, how would we know?”

Jungkook turned the radio off.

It was a hot summer day and working his butt off in a boiling kitchen with ovens going all day wasn’t what Jungook thought he would be doing when he was a child and imagined his future, although neither was using his superpowers and becoming a superhero. To be honest, he liked music, he liked to listen to it everywhere, at home, at work, even on his way to work and back. He had even gotten a guitar for his seventh birthday and spent years learning to play. He thought for sure he would be in some famous band by now and not just singing along to the radio while sweat-soaked his shirt in a pizza kitchen. His dreams weren’t what they were supposed to be, but he was fine with that, he was fine with thinking the universe would eventually just lead him to where he needed to be, and it was definitely about to.

There were ten minutes left of his shift, ten agonizing minutes where he was left alone to lock up the shop, finish cleaning up the place and turn the lights off. He was always left to close the shop alone, his boss trusted him to do it more so than the others, however, he still hadn’t made him a manager. The radio had been turned off and all that was left for background noise was the tv in the dining area that Jungkook let play on the news in hopes that he would see her on it as he swept the floor.

He didn’t unfortunately, but what he did see was live footage of a bank robbery that had turned into a stand-off with the police.

Jungkook froze and nearly dropped the broom in his hand as he watched the helicopter footage of the scene. The bank was close to him. He had his suit and mask in his backpack in the back, he could do this if he wanted to.

Adrenaline began to course through him at the thought. He bit his lip with his gaze on the tv as his options battled inside of him like violent crashing waves although he was calm on the outside. His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight minutes now until he could leave.

In an instant, he had made a decision. He took off running through the store, clocked out, and headed into the back where his backpack was.

He stripped down in the storeroom as his pulse hammered in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he knew he had to start sometime.

He felt odd being stripped down to his underwear at work while struggling to get his limbs in the tight, stretchy fabric with his hands shaking. He had gotten one foot in a leg hole but lost his balance and fell over onto the tile trying to get the other in. He decided that maybe getting dressed while laying on the floor was his best bet.

His hands still shook as he tied the back of his mask tightly around his head. He could feel the jelly-like side conforming to the curves of his upper face and wondered if this was how a boob felt in a push-up bra as he thought about what Jimin had said earlier.

“Okay.” he let out a shaky breath as he stood up from the floor “I’m not going to die today. I won’t die. Nope, not even once. I won’t die.” he chanted to himself hoping that implanting it in his brain would help him be safer while mustering courage. He let out a deep breath before he let his power wash over his body, knowing his hair and eyes just changed to blue.

“Let’s do this!” he said to himself with sureness and courage with clenched fists.

He locked up the shop, leaving his backpack with his clothes inside, and headed to his car just outside.

He had a fist full of keys, some for the store and some for his house and car. As he put his car key in the ignition and tried to start it, all of his courage died along with the engine.

“Balls!” he shouted as he smacked the steering wheel and tried again. The car simply wouldn’t start. “After I was so nice to you this morning?! Come on! I’m trying to be a superhero here!”

He tossed all the keys into the passenger seat and let the top of his head fall back into the headrest as he looked up at the roof of the car. He debated on giving up, but he decided against it. He could feel it, this was where the universe was leading him, today was his day.

The underwhelming but soon-to-be hero decided to briskly jog to the scene of the crime while people stared at him for the way he was dressed, cursing himself the entire way for being unable to fly.

Jungkook was met with a blocked-off street with police officers and cop cars scattered all over it. Jungkook hadn’t thought about how to get through the cops and into the bank. If he wasn’t going to get shot out here by the police for trying to get into a robbery, he would probably be killed by the robbers for simply just strolling in. The odds and his luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today.

“I’m a superhero, I should be able to just go on by them.” He told himself and decided to try it.

He walked past the roadblock but didn’t make it far.

“Hey, kid! Where do you think you’re going?!” Was shouted at him making him pick up the pace until he was at a full run for the bank door.

A lot of officers were shouting at him, but it was hard for him to understand them with the pleads in his head for them to not take him out, the noisy helicopter overhead, and the loudness of his heartbeat.

He almost crawled as he entered the glass doors of the bank as silently as he could.

It looked like Jungkook’s luck was turning around because not only were the masked robbers too busy stealing and yelling at people they had lying on the ground to see him, but they had their backs all turned to him. This was perfect.

Just as he raised a hand to do something one was suddenly knocked over making the other three robbers look in that direction.

Fire girl. She had dropped from seemingly nowhere and kicked one in the face before her feet even touched the floor.

There she was, in person, in action, and not just on tv. She now stood in the same room with him with her golden mask coving half of her face, her yellow eyes,doand bright red hair. Her skin-tight suit was a mix of yellow, orange, and gold. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he felt like it was melting his brain.

Before Jungkook could go into too many starstruck thoughts over it, his body told him to take action as gunfire began.

He raised his hand yet again and let a heavy and harsh stream hit one right in the back, knocking him forward so hard that his head hit the marble floor and the gun flew from his hand.

He had never done that to a person before, but his powers had done exactly what he wanted them to, just like always. For whatever reason, Jungkook was sure they would fail when the time came.

His heart raced as all eyes were on him now and his brain panicked with “holy shit, I’ really doing this”

“Who the hell are you?!”

The words didn’t come from anyone he was expecting, not a bank teller, not a civilian, not even a robber. It was fire girl who seemed lost.

Jungkook ignored it as he saw a gun now from one of the last two bank robbers being pointed in his direction.

Time seemed to slow as his body acted for him, getting low to the ground and holding out his hand for a powerful surge of water to release. It hit the man with the gun pointed at him directly in the face so hard Jungkook had thought it had broken his neck.

From his peripherals, he could see fire girl sweeping the legs of the last man and stepping on his neck.

And then there was silence.

Both he and the second hero collected the guns before Jungkook threw one of the robbers over his shoulder, then he went for a second one which he threw over his other one. Was he showing off his strength in front of a pretty girl? Yes. But it was working. She watched frozen for a moment as he took the two limp men over to the door and laid them in front of the glass for the police to see and gestured to them that everything was okay and that they could come in.

Dragging another robber across the floor and into the pile was fire girl.

Their eyes locked for just a moment and they both paused.

Jungkook was hit like an explosion, although it felt physical, he still stood frozen with his mouth dropped open. It felt like he had been shot but it wasn’t pain he had felt in his brain and chest, but with a powerful wave of ease and belonging. Although this feeling was new to him, there was a strange sense of deja vu about it as if he had lived and felt it before. His brain was in overload and began to shut down until nothing but static was left.

“Who are you?” She asked again but it was much much quieter.

Jungkook was at a complete loss for words.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice went bitter and cold as she now gave him a shitty look through with her yellow eyes drilling into him through her golden mask that covered the top half of her face.

Again, Jungkook didn’t speak.

“YOU COULD’VE DIED!! It was obvious you didn’t know what the hell you were doing!” She was now pointing her finger angrily right in his face so close he felt his eyes cross.

“You stay the hell out of it amateur! Don’t EVER get involved in something like this ever again when you have no training and no control over anything in this situation ESPECIALLY when you have no control over your powers! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You’re an idiot and you could've made this job so much harder for me!”

She yelled at him while all that Jungkook could think about was what the hell he was feeling and going through and how beautiful and powerful she looked when she was yelling at him.

“I-I-“ Jungkook was trying to muster the brainpower to speak “but everything was okay.”

He had been so lost in her that he didn’t even see it coming when he was tackled to the ground and his arms were forcefully bent behind his back.

A police officer was sitting on his back and applying cold metal handcuffs to his wrists.

“Ow ow ouch.” He winced at the crushing weight on his back and the bending of his arms which he thought might snap like the delicate bones of spicy chicken wings. He could see the feet of the hostages beginning to file out of the building, some in tears from their traumatic experience.

“Why am I being arrested?” he asked wondering why he was being treated like a bad guy when he had just saved people and why wasn’t fire girl being arrested as well.

He was pulled to his feet by the handcuffs and patted down.

“You were unauthorized to enter this building. You interfered with law enforcement.”

Jungkook wanted to tell the cop that law enforcement wasn’t even doing anything to assist in the situation anyway, but he knew that would be a bad move and didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

“Why isn’t she being arrested then?” he nodded his head towards the other hero.

“She’s fire girl. She’s a superhero.” the officer answered simply.

“TELL THEM!” Jungook begged her in desperation.

“Tell them what?” she crossed her arms and spoke with a sour tone.

“Tell them I helped.” he urged.

“But you didn’t.”

She was lying and they both knew it, however, the cop didn’t, and began to drag Jungkook away and out the door.

In the open, people swarmed. Onlookers, reporters, ambulances, fire trucks. Everyone was watching him get arrested as if he had robbed the bank himself.

He was stuck into the back of a cop car for far too long. He even got the chance to see flame erupt from fire girl’s feet and watched as she flew away. Was she a jerk like many other superheroes? Or did she just not want to see him get hurt? Jungkook chose to believe it was the second one. After all, his soulmate couldn’t be a lying jerk-bag, could she?

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #bts #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff

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dawnrider · 4 years ago

Text

Dunno if I'm making this a thing or if it's just the mood I'm in today.

Either way, here it is!

Another tree, another field, some more cows, a couple horses... more trees! Hitomi sighed again. This had to be the most boring drive she'd ever done. There were no buildings, aside from a few farm houses here and there, and all the other drivers on the road were clearly not from around there, simply passing through. “Now where is that turn?” she mumbled aloud, squinting at the road signs, trying to find the right county road. Finding it wasn't easy, but as soon as she turned there was a sign that directed her farther west to reach the town she was looking for. “Thirty more miles? This place really is in the middle of nowhere.” A faint sound of discomfort from the kennel next to her made her look over. “I know Jasper. We're almost there. Then you can get out.” The feline whined, turning around again and laying down. He meowed pathetically. Poor thing, that sedative really helped, but it's starting to wear off. Hitomi tried not to speed too much despite her eagerness to get to her new house. A ticket was the last thing she needed in a new place.

When she finally pulled up in front of the small house that was designated as hers, the first thing she did was pull Jasper out. She fumbled with the keys to unlock the front door, struggling with the lock a minute. Jasper yowled a little more loudly until she opened the door to his carrier. In spite of his desire to get out, the cat sat and stared out of the carrier for a long time, sniffing and peeking out of the door. Hitomi shook her head, leaving her pet to get used to the space. She went into the kitchen, fighting her way past boxes, to set out a water dish for Jasper, knowing he would be thirsty after the long trip and the effects of the sedative. “Here Jasper, come get a drink.” Unsurprisingly, she didn't hear him budge. With a sigh, Hitomi looked around the space. There was a lot to do before she could relax. Before unpacking... she needed food.

The grocery store was tiny. Hitomi wondered how it fed a few hundred people, but there wasn't anyone else in it. With the majority of the community making their living by farming, they probably mostly fed themselves, she realized. The older woman behind the counter kept eying her suspiciously. Hitomi had been eyed like that before, but it was when she was fifteen and in a convenience store where stuff got stolen all the time. She'd never stolen anything in her life, but that didn't mean the shopkeeper didn't suspect her. This was a more confused suspicion. Her first day in town and she hadn't been able to introduce herself to anyone yet. It was natural for the woman to be a little wary.

Walking up and down the aisles, she found the essentials she needed. Milk, eggs, cereal, bread. The produce didn't look the best, at least, the things not grown in that area looked a little iffy. She got what she could from the frozen aisle and then decided she was going to have to start a garden. She looked everywhere for cat food and couldn't find anything. She frowned. How could they not have cat food at the store? “Something you need help finding?” Hitomi fought the urge to jump, turning slowly to find the woman standing just behind her. Quiet old bat! She stared a moment before nodding.

“Uh, cat food.”

“Ah. Well you won't be finding that here, darlin'. You'll have to go over to the feed store. He carries all we need for our pets.” The woman's face was a little less threatening now that she was smiling. Hitomi tentatively smiled back. “You're new here.”

Hitomi's smile faltered a moment. Was it really necessary to state the obvious? “Yes. My name is Hitomi. Hitomi Kanzaki. I'm the new fifth grade teacher.” Sticking out her hand, Hitomi was surprised by the strength of the woman's hold.

“Oh! Pleasure to meet you! We've been wondering when you would get here. I'm Gladys Larson. How's the house?” Her enthusiasm was infectious and Hitomi's smile returned. The house was fine, a little old-fashioned when it came to the decorating, but she'd fix that with time. “Well I'm glad you like it. What was it you were looking for again?”

“Cat food? And I think I want to start a vegetable garden out back so...”

“Now don't you worry dear, I'll just take you right on over. Van's not used to strangers coming in and he needs someone familiar to introduce them.” Hitomi stared at the woman a moment before following her up to the counter. She paid for her things and Gladys had her put them in the big refrigerator so they wouldn't spoil while they were gone. “He's a sweet boy, a little rough around the edges though,” Gladys told her in a conspiratorial whisper as they crossed the main street and walked a few store fronts down. Hitomi glanced back at the grocery, surprised that the old woman had no problem leaving it unattended. “Here we are,” she laughed, opening a door into one of the larger stores on the street. A bell tinkled as they entered. “Van, Honey! I've brought in the new teacher. She needs cat food,” she called. Hitomi heard some shuffling and a head poked out from behind the cash register. Her eyes widened and she took a slight step back.

He was gorgeous. Hearing Gladys call him a sweet boy who was a bit rough, Hitomi had anticipated a teenager who was afraid of people and possibly had an acne problem. This man was nothing like that at all. He was tall, as she saw when he stood up, with dark shaggy hair, a strong chin and intensely brown eyes. She was startled when he frowned in her direction. “Gladys, you know where the cat stuff's at.” And that was it. He didn't try to introduce himself or ask her name. The grocer didn't seem fazed at all, leading Hitomi back toward the food. Apparently this was also the hardware store, the opposite side filled with shovels, mulch, hammers, wheelbarrows and planters.

“Don't mind him dear. It will take him a while to get used to you.”

“I can hear you...” the store owner grumbled loudly, sitting back down behind the counter.

Gladys grinned and shook her head. “Yes I know Honey. Best set of ears in town.” Hitomi bit her lip, glancing back at the counter. She found the food she needed, but she wasn't sure what to do about her gardening idea. Maybe it would be best to come back another time... like never. “That all you need dear? What about your garden?”

“I-I'll come back later once I'm more settled in. I really should get home and feed Jasper. He'll be mad. I'm sure he's freaked out in the new house by himself,” she explained.

“Oh! Poor dear. Well you just run along to my store and grab your things. There's the town social tonight, you should come to meet everyone! Seven o'clock at the hall. It's just down the street from here. Can't miss it,” she pointed down the road the way Hitomi had come in from. She nodded, thanking Gladys for her help.

Stepping up to the counter she set the bag of food down and waited. The man behind the counter seemed to be ignoring her, listening to some soft music from a radio on the floor. “Um...”

“Just take it. It's a welcome gift.” Hitomi bit her lip. He still wasn't looking up at her and she was a little offended. There was no need to be rude to her!

“Thank you. It's... it's Van right?”

He snorted impolitely. “Yea.” Waiting a moment to see if he would say anything more, she sighed when nothing else came. Taking the food and turning away from the counter, Hitomi scowled, leaving the store and marching over to the grocery store to get her things and go home. Once the two heard the sound of her car pulling away, Gladys approached the counter. “What?”

Gladys sighed, leaning on the countertop. “That's no way to treat a young lady. She was simply trying to be nice.”

“I don't need nice,” he huffed in response.

“Hitomi is very pretty. And she can't be any older than twenty-five. You're just about the only person her age.” She shifted, drawing Van's attention. “I saw the way she looked at you the moment she saw you. She thinks you're good looking, and she'd be right.”

“Knock it off Gladys,” he growled, but he couldn't hide his faint blush.

“You planning on staying single your whole life? Has to be awfully lonely...”

“You need something else?” he interrupted. The old grocer smiled slightly, taking the hint. She said her goodbyes and wandered back over to her own store. Van sagged, sighing heavily. She'd sounded young, so Gladys telling him she wasn't more than twenty-five hadn't come as a surprise. She had a nice voice, a bit unsure, but that was likely from being new in a new place. “Hitomi, huh?” He turned the radio up a little and relaxed. There wasn't going to be much of anyone else in for the rest of the afternoon. He took out a book, his fingertip smoothing across the page as he read.

#Dawnrider Fanfiction #Fuck it Friday #Escaflowne #Modern AU #Posting whatever I want

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sokkadora · 4 years ago

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tattooed heart; an ellie williams x fem!reader

chapter 3: a cold morning

masterlist here.

part summary: a tad bit of backstory on how joel, ellie, amelia and you met, seth being annoying, y/n and dina escapades, ellie apologizing for the kiss.

trigger warning: none .... i think

a/n: enjoy! and please check out my book safety net on wattpad! my account is @/CATRAMITYS <3333

- ☽ iii ༓ iii ☾ -

life in jackson could be described as fairly easy - slow and consistent. the people who were living there never actually left and there weren't many people that would move into the city. most people you've known since they were the ones living inside the walls ever since you had come there.

some of the children were born there, yet most of the people came to the settlement as the time passed, seeking protection from the fireflies, infected or bandits. and so far, so good. the settlement was started by maria, tommy's wife, and her father a long time ago. when tommy left the fireflies in search of a normal, peaceful life, he ran into wyoming, finding this place. before their hard work, it was quite hard to manage - they needed to protect the settlement, build walls around it and make sure the people in there were safe, yet the young married couple was way more ambitious.

they wanted to make the old hydroelectric power station work again and that was one of the settlement's biggest projects to date. and to the wonder of everyone, they made it work again, so jackson had a stable supply of electricity almost every day. except for huge storms, which you all were waiting for to end sitting in the dinner, telling each other stories in the light of candles and so. these occasions were fun.

the city was independent - you had your cattle, horses, hens, and pigs, you had women who could sew clothes and make fabrics, you had a few men who were capable of making a gun. also, your mechanics were capable of making a few old cars work if the things would get really bad. in spring and summer, you always made sure to harvest vegetables and fruits, hunting throughout the winter mostly. you had a school and a kind-of-a-cinema when you were bored. for existing in a post-apocalyptic world, jackson was fairly normal.

and though you never got to know your parents, you had amelia. this lady was pretty old in the time she found you — she wasn't that kind of a brutal survivor who would bash someone's skull, twist her knife inside someone's body, or shoot them dead. she was the quiet traveler who was purposely avoiding big cities, who was traveling through woods and walked among rivers to see where her road will lead her. from the moment you bumped into each other, you became friends. family even. but once you got bit, she almost shot you. until she found out you were immune.

you and amelia didn't know what to do, but once amelia caught word of an old man and a 14-year-old immune girl traveling to the fireflies in salt lake city, you two went to find them. it took a few months to find them, the two of you almost giving up after taking shelter in what you thought was an abandoned apartment in pittsburgh.

SUMMER OF 2033:

"y/n, in here." amelia called for you quietly, gesturing to the apartment inside. you nodded, glancing behind you before quickly moving inside and locking the door.

you let out a sigh of relief, readjusting your ponytail and checking out the apartment. amelia jumped in front of you, pulling out her handgun, "get behind me, sugar." she whispered, softly moving towards the bedroom where she heard noises.

once she opened the door, the two of you aimed your guns at the people inside, two dark skinned boys, one around your age at the time and an older man with a red haired girl also around your age.

"amelia, they're not bad." you say, lowering your gun slowly to look at them better. the older woman glances at you before putting her gun down too.

the young man steps forward with his hand outstretched towards you, "i'm henry, who are you?" he asks nervously, glancing

you look up at him, then glance at amelia. she nods, signaling that it's okay, "i'm y/n." you respond with a small smile.

henry grins a bit, gesturing to the others, "we all just met but, this is joel," he starts, gesturing to the older man in the flannel, "this is ellie, and this is my little brother sam." henry finishes, gesturing to the girl and the boy.

"amelia and y/n." amelia introduces, gesturing to her then you. "sorry for the, uh, abrupt entrance. we thought this apartment was empty." she laughs nervously, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

"no worries. we were about to head out anyway." henry starts, beginning to walk out. "wait, would you two like to come with us?" we're planning on getting out of this city tonight."

you and amelia look at each other before she turns her head towards the henry again, "i don't thi—"

"amelia, c'mon! safety in numbers, remember." you remind her, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at her knowingly.

the woman scoffs and shakes her head, looking at her lap for a moment, "fine, okay, we'll join you guys."

upon leaving the apartment, you, sam, and ellie began to talk to each other. once you found out she was 14, like the immune girl, you went up to amelia while you were waiting in henry's "office".

"amelia, can i talk to you for a second?" you whisper to her, gesturing to a quieter spot. amelia's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she looks away from the outside to you, nodding.

once in a quieter spot, you tell amelia your hypothesis about ellie and joel, them being the two you’ve been searching the country for, "no, no way. they're probably just father and daughter."

"don't daughters usually call their fathers dad instead of their actual names?" you ask her, irritated while your arms fold over your chest. amelia stares at you blankly, hands resting on her knees. "this is the man and the immune girl we're searching for, amelia. we have to tell—"

"guys?" a voice calls into the room, making yours and amelia's head shoot towards the sound. it's sam. "henry says it's time to go." sam tells you two awkwardly.

amelia sighs heavily, rising from her place on the desk and looking at you, "you and i will finish this conversation later."

that conversation never went as well as you hoped, you and ellie finding out that you both are immune in the radio station during a slow game of truth or dare. neither of you knew what it was, but henry gave you the basic gist of it.

ellie was thrilled to know she wasn't the only immune person, and she wasn't alone in that area. after losing henry and sam the morning after, you four headed off to find joel's brother, tommy in wyoming after finding a car.

after finding tommy and heading to the university of eastern colorado, things only got more rough from there. joel and amelia both got impaled, barely making it out of the science building alive before getting on their horses and passing out. resulting in you and ellie panicking before getting yourselves together and finding a nearby town to stay at for the winter.

during that winter, you encountered david, and his friend carl. you and ellie almost lost your lives after getting captured by them, then joel and amelia swooped in saving you and ellie from becoming the monsters you both fear.

the rest of the journey carried into the spring, you, joel, ellie, and amelia becoming much closer during the time from winter to spring. once you all got to the firefly hospital and joel and amelia found out what the cost for the vaccine was, they saved you and ellie.

you both had become to loved and valuable to them, neither wanting to bear the loss of another child. and they lied to you both to keep you safe. so after they took out most of the fireflies in the hospital, including their leader, marlene, you all headed back to tommy's, to jackson.

you and ellie both stopped the elders before entering jackson, "hey, wait." ellie called, looking to you for a bit of comfort.

amelia and joel turned around, looking at the two of you. you bit your lip as ellie started talking, "back in boston — back when i was bitten... i wasn't alone." she reveals, glancing between joel and amelia.

"my best friend, riley, was there and she got bit too." ellie tells everyone.

"and i was with my best friend, carly." you tell the group, fidgeting with your fingers. "we didn't know what to do. so, she says 'let's just wait it out. y'know we can be all poetic and lose our minds together. we're still waiting for our turn."

"then it was tess." ellie states, fidgeting with her fingers anxiously.

"then henry and sam—" you continue the statement for her.

"none of that is on you." amelia states, stepping a bit closer to you and ellie.

"no, you don't understand." ellie says sadly, rubbing her face.

joel suddenly steps forward, "i struggled for a long time with survivin', and you-" he briefly clutches his watch. "no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for. now, i know that's not what you want to hear right now but it's—"

you shake your head, looking away before turning back at joel, "swear to us." you interrupt, looking between the two adults seriously. "swear to us that everything that you said about the fireflies is true."

joel and amelia look between you and ellie with a hesitant look, "we swear." she says to you two, placing a hand on joel's shoulder.

you and ellie take a pause, processing everything before looking back at amelia and joel, nodding, "okay." you say together.

MARCH 2ND, 2038:

that was how you got into jackson. the first months there were pretty weird to you - the city had rules, schedule and they gave you food every morning, midday and evening, calling it breakfast, lunch, and dinner. the first week, you spent with vomiting since your food wasn't used to eat regularly. it was also pretty hard trying to trust strangers before you realized they don't mean you any harm. amelia was immediately capable of working at their farm with their animals, while you were getting the jobs like cleaning up mess or help in the kitchen - which meant that you didn't see each other that much.

- ☽ ♡ ༓ ♡ ☾ -

but after last night you and ellie went your ways after the talk with joel and amelia. there were many exchanged glances as she walked you home although you insisted you were fine. when you stood in the doorway of your house, ellie kissed your cheek before waving goodbye shyly.

a knock wakes you out of your sleep, groaning as you sit up and walk to the door, "just a minute! geez." you call out, walking to the door while scratching the back of your neck tiredly.

once you open it, you see dina. your other best friend, "hey dina." you yawn, squeezing the door handle as you look at your friend who's already dressed. "oh shit-"

"yep. hurry up and get ready, stupid." dina grins, stepping inside and sitting on your couch as you head into the bathroom with a new set of clothes. "maria also wants to talk to you."

stepping out of the bathroom, you reload your pistol and grab your switchblade that joel made you, "alright, dina, let's go."

she nods, opening the door as both of you step out into the cold air, "are joel and amelia up yet? or ellie?" you ask curiously.

"tommy and amelia went out early for patrol. something about a herd or infected up north, i don't know where joel is, and ellie, is still asleep. like ellie." dina tells you as you nod in understanding, chuckling at the last part of her sentence. "are you four... good?"

you glance up at her, sighing, "yeah, i guess so." you shrug, looking away and itching your nose.

once you and dina get downtown, she leads you into a restaurant, "this way." she says, motioning towards the nearly empty restaurant.

once you two enter, dina walks away to socialize with the others. you glance at her anxiously as she just smirks, shooing you in maria's direction.

"hey, y/n! over here!" maria calls from across the bar, making you groan and walk over unenthusiastically.

you walk to maria, "yes?" you ask, rubbing your face with your gloved hands.

"seth has something he wants to say to you." maria tells you, glancing towards the kitchen.

you glare at maria, irritated, "i don't wanna hear what that bigot has to say."

maria looks at you with an unreadable expression, "do it for me, please?" she asks gently.

you scan her face over, and sigh, resting your foot on a small crate, "fine."

"seth! seth, come here." maria calls towards the kitchen.

"fuck me." you mutter under your breath, as you look up.

seth walks out of the kitchen sheepishly, with something in his hands, "hey. look last night, i was drinking too much." seth starts, making you scoff quietly.

"sure." you say in disbelief, crossing your arms as you rest your right leg on the stool next to you.

"i'm trying to say i'm sorry!" seth exclaims, getting more irritated with you. "maria tells me that you and dina are heading out." he tells you, making you glance back at dina. "i made you two some sandwiches." he reveals.

seth places the sandwiches on the bar counter, giving them a pat before scooching them towards you.

"okay." you mumble, staring at him awkwardly.

"they're steak." seth informs you, gesturing towards the sandwiches you haven't taken yet.

maria gets tired of the awkward silence as she takes the sandwiches as she shoves them into your chest, "thank you, seth." she says assertively, scaring seth back into the kitchen.

turning around with the sandwiches, you bump into dina, "what've you got there?" she asks curiously as you shove the sandwiches into her hands.

"some... surprisingly decent looking bigot sandwiches." you scoff, dusting off your pants while looking around the outside room.

dina lifts them to her nose, taking a whiff, "they smell absolutely scrumptious." she says in a fake posh accent, making you laugh as she secretly throws them away.

"come on you two, time to go." maria calls from the doorway of the restaurant, gesturing to the outside. "y/n, i need to talk to you for a minute before i head back inside."

you stop next to maria, gesturing for dina to go ahead without you as she closes the door, "are you amelia and joel good?" maria asks quietly, making you roll your eyes. "they seemed to be in a better mood this morn—"

"we're fine maria." you interrupt her, your eyes closing in annoyance as you're getting tired of this question.

the blonde woman puts her hands up, "just wanted to make sure. i worry y'know." she chuckles, bringing you into a short embrace. you nods, pulling away, "go find dina." she tells you heading into the restaurant as you head on your way.

you find dina and overhear how she's about to start a snowball fight with a bunch of the kids. you sneak up behind the kids, snowball in hand. dina glances up and spots you, making you put a finger over your mouth to shush her. she looks back at the kids, egging them on as you come up and headshot a girl named, isabella.

this made the kids go feral, sending them to one side of the playground as you and dina hid on the other side, laughing your asses off.

you and dina played with the kids for around fifteen minutes before you heard ellie's voice. you turned around and saw jesse, waving politely at him before returning to the game.

"dina! come on! you and i are paired for patrol today." jesse calls out to his ex, making her roll her eyes before heading out of the playground, following jesse.

"hey, y/n! can i talk to you?" a familiar voice called, you turn your head to see ellie. you smile and wave at her before putting the snowball fight on a pause so you could talk to her.

"hey." you say breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"hey." ellie responds awkwardly, tapping on the wooden fence.

"i just wanna say sorry for ditching you after the... thing last night." ellie apologizes, making you tilt your head in confusion.

"oh, no, it's okay. i totally get it. i- i just- i felt bad." you tell her, looking at her apologetically while fidgeting with your fingers.

ellie shakes her head lightly, "why?"

"because, i started the whole thing and i... i just shouldn't have kissed you in front all those people and—"

"no! it's okay, you were drunk." ellie says, laughing off the light embarrassment.

"well, still i don't want you to think—" you start before ellie interrupts your once more, making you chuckle lightly.

"no, i'm not reading into it or anything." ellie tells you, making you shake your head.

you look up at ellie, smiling softly, "you know what i love about you?" you start, making ellie blush a little. "how you let me finish my sentences."

ellie chuckles, shaking her head, "alright. well, we should probably get going." you nod, before a snowball nails ellie right in the shoulder. "ow!"

you turn around angrily, glaring at the kids, "what the fuck?!" you exclaims at them, making them giggle.

"i'm not even playing!" ellie yells at them.

"cause you're a chicken?" one of the kids yells out, making the rest taunt ellie playfully.

"i hate those kids so much." ellie mutters to you irritated, making you look at her mischievously.

"you wanna fuck 'em up?" you ask evilly, giving ellie a side glance.

ellie looks to see if anyone's coming before nodding, "yeah, i do." ellie leaps over the fence as you both start playfully shouting at them.

"you asked for it!" you yell at them.

"you better run you little shits!" ellie exclaims, you and her taking cover behind a structure.

the game was the first to ten hits wins, it took you and ellie a minute, but you beat to little shits 10/3.

"no fair!" isabella whines, wiping the snow off her coat.

you spread your arms out victoriously, "eat it shrimps! how's it feel?" you brag to them, making them all run up and tackle you. "you'll never get away with this!" you yell happily as they dog pile on you before ellie comes and rips one off.

"get off of her you little monsters!" the red haired girl exclaims, making them scurry away before helping you up.

"i guess i asked for that huh?" you ask your friend, heading towards the gate.

"yep." she deadpans at you, making you smile. you both exit the playground, heading to the stables. "so, jesse wants us to do the creek trails. he's gonna relieve amelia and tommy."

"oh, okay. that's nice he assigned us together." you tell ellie, greeting the lady at the front of the stables. "you're gonna like this one."

someone yells to you and ellie they'll take your horses in so you can grab them. yelling out a quick thanks, you head over to grab your horse, moon. walking to the east gate, you pet his neck, greeting him.

"look who decided to join us." jesse tease you and ellie, making you roll your eyes.

"ha ha, you're so funny." you tease back, elbowing him gently in the side and taking your rifle from him.

"open it up!" he yells up at the gate keepers. "settle down. alright. you all know the drill." he assumes, looking to all the patrol groups. "run your routes, mark your logbooks, clear any infected you see. you run into anything you can't handle, you come back." jesse tells everyone. "be smart about it. alright, get going."

you and ellie glance at each other with a small nod, getting on your horses and riding off towards the creek trails.

#the last of us #ellie williams #the last of us part 2 #joel miller #tlou2 #gamingedit #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlouedit #elliexreader #oc #joel x reader #dina x reader

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108garys · 6 months ago

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Ensnared

Manny Sherman's first murder? A chance to illustrate all the character work I've done on his background? Its just shy of 2000 words, blood, violence and heartbreaking horror, this is a murder fic largely from an oc pov

On that I'll say the 70s were a different time in a lot of ways...

[End of summer, 1974]

Typical. One more night in this town and she ends up stuck in the middle of nowhere after her last shift.

She puts her head on the steering wheel, the sun's last light already fading and darkness closing in around her. Take a breath. All her plans for the future just a day away…

"I'll get through this, I can do this." she whispers to herself until a knock on the window brings her back to reality, she startles at the sight of a stranger but quickly calms as she catches the name embroidered on his uniform 'Stephan's garage'. Thank God. Stephan is a good man and one of his showing up when she's broken down fills her with relief.

She rolls down the window as the stranger gestures for her to do so. He leans in, bending due to his height, hands draped over the edge of the door, he must be around her age. In this light his pale blue eyes and the way he smiles gives him an almost dangerous rough around the edges type of charm. She clears her throat and smiles. "You have excellent timing." she thinks she's seen him at Stephan's before but can't recall his name… "I appear to be in a bit of a predicament."

"Had errands a town over. Manny Sherman." introduces himself offering his hand a gleam in his eye. "Bunnie…" she hesitates, taking his hand. "Just Bunnie." He laughs, his grip firm, lingering as he asks, "Well, Miss Bunny Rabbit, mind if I take a look?" He shoves his thumb towards the front of the car. "Please." she agrees, grateful as he steps away to grab his tools.

Bunnie stays behind the wheel as he goes to work under the hood, his beat up old truck parked ahead of her to give him more light. She takes a breath, telling herself everything will turn out and tomorrow would be a better day… Just one more hurdle to jump. "How long since it's been in the shop?" Manny calls out, the hood hid him from her sight as he digs around in the engine bay. "No clue, it's on loan from Mr Herring, he'll be expecting it back tomorrow."

"Herring? He's across town from Stephan's, right?" He asks, "I'll have to give him a talking to about all the work I'm doing here." he grumbles sarcastically, she rolls her eyes despite his inability to see it, everyone knows the old man is a sweetheart… especially to people like her. "Go easy on the old man will you, he's in his seventies."

…one more night and tomorrow her life begins, Bunnie worked very hard to get to where she wants to be and this time tomorrow this town will be just a memory…

Manny shuts the hood. "You're running on fumes here." She groans, rubbing her temples. "The fuel gauge is a bit faulty… I didn't realise I was cutting it that close." He walks back to the driver's side, leaning against the door. "Need a ride? Let me save you the hassle of walking all the way to the nearest truck stop and back in the dark." He offers with that same smile plastered on his face, she matches he's grin. "What, no Friday night plans?" He steps back allowing her to get out, the height difference is much more pronounced standing in front of him, even in platform heels he's looking down at her. "I do now."

"Charmer." Bunnie jokes as he starts packing up his tools and she heads to his truck. They'll have to turn back the way she came…

Bunnie settles in, looking out at the uneventful scenery passing by, the radio plays quietly, he doesn't seem to mind her messing with it but she gives up on finding something interesting after landing on the classical station. "How long have you been in town?" She asks to fill the air between them. "Under a year, passing through on my way to better things… No offense." she scoffs rolling her eyes. "I've been passing through for a good eighteen years, been dying to get away forever." Bunnie shut her eyes for a moment, leaning back before turning her head to him, looking over his profile, his intense focus on the road ahead. "There's nothing for me here."

"Not on good terms with your folks?" He probes. "Honestly? They've been out of the picture for a while… Their choice." She shrugs like aging out before her parents got their act together wasn't deeply painful. "My old man took off back to his home state when I was small but damn, both of them? I figure my father had his reasons but I can't imagine what that must be like."

"I suppose they probably had their reasons too," resentment clear as she leans forward and starts going through the glove box to occupy her hands, "not that I know what their deal is, I don't even have family in this area-"

Bunnie stops mid sentence as she pulls out a large knife, she looks at him as he gets ahead of the inevitable questions. "One of my uncle's hunting knives, got this truck from him too." She looks down at the knife, curiously pulling it partially from it's sheathe, the initials R.K. are engraved on the blade. Manny grabs the knife before she could ask about it. "Hey! That's a good way to go about getting cut!" He stashes it in the centre console, "Just one bump in the road and, whoops! My interior is ruined, do you have any idea how hard blood is to clean?" Bunnie realizes how much she's been pushing her luck. "I'm sorry, you're going out of your way to do me a favour, I should've been more respectful." he sighs as she closes the glove box, "No. No, don't worry about it. I got that same speech at half our age… we don't all have knife safety drilled in at an early age."

Silence stretches out awkwardly for a few minutes before she speaks again. "You hunt?" he nods. "It's all but mandatory in my family, killed my first rabbit before I learnt how to ride a bike." she relaxes again, "I always wanted to be an author, what about you?" she sees him glancing at her in the rear view mirror, shrugging. "My father always said to leave my mark on the world, was never sure what he meant by that," he thinks for a moment before saying. "An artist, that's what I want to be."

"Yeah?" she leans forward, genuinely curious. "Tell me about it."

"There's this painting I saw in a book once, dogs piling on a larger animal, tearing into it, you take a normal person hunting and they will pass out at the sight of blood, you make it into a painting and suddenly it's art… 'A powerful statement', that's what was said about it." He grips the steering wheel, a serious look on his face as he attempts to explain. "I need to do something like that, leave my signature on society. Make people feel something they've never felt before… Something profound."

"I wouldn't have pegged you as the philosophical type." she looks him over again with this fresh lens, she leans her face on her palm. "Do you really plan to stay on as a mechanic instead of going after your dreams?" he furrows his brow, deeply contemplating something, she looks out the window… She could have sworn that they'd be there by now, she's passed that truck stop twice a day every week for months. Even with the radio playing quietly an unsettling silence fills the space between them, a thousand words catch as a lump in her throat as she looks at him… More a stranger than he had been, she can't think clearly, she reaches to turn off the radio but he knocks her hand away, turning the volume as loud as it can go. She instinctively yells at the sudden ear splitting noise but can't hear her own voice-

Bunnie is thrown back into her seat as Manny makes a hard turn off the road. Speeding down rough dirt. Her heart pounds violently in her chest, she can barely breathe. He hits the breaks as she attempts to grab the wheel, sending her flying forward at the sudden stop. Pain bursts in her wrist as she instinctively throws her arms out to protect her head. She throws herself out of his truck as fast as the door will open, falling on her hands and knees on the rough gravelly dirt she doesn't look back as she scrambles to her feet running.

Adrenaline and fear pushing her forward, unable to process the world around her. She twists her ankle putting a foot wrong, sending her tumbling into a ditch. She hits the ground hard, the air knocked from her lungs. As she struggles to move she sees him… The glint of moonlight on the hunting knife caught her eye, his gait untroubled, Smug… The look in his eye, that intense gaze… Blood ran from a cut in her brow, mixing with tears on her cheek. __

[…as the Rabbit struggles, the snare tightens preventing escape, constricting in the desperate fight for freedom, strangling the animal in the process…] __

Manny had killed his first rabbit before he learned how to ride a bike… It had far less blood. He lay at the bottom of a ditch, the familiar knife handle gripped white knuckled as he caught his breath… Blood soaks into the dirt, sticks to his skin… Stains the soft fabric of her dress, his blond hair slick with sweat and blood like hers… as he gets to his feet, looking down at his work, at that look etched on the face… He can't help but laugh as his life suddenly made sense, he let the knife slip from his aching hands with a dull thud…

Clarity. He felt neither remorse nor damned for his actions… This euphoric feeling washes over him, pure catharsis. Getting high with misfits back home doesn't compare… His mind is clear and he feels a profound sense that this is what he was meant to do… That this is who he is.

[Monday]

The two old men sit out front of the garage, the morning passes at a crawl as the apprentice mechanic works on the older of the two's car… "It hasn't seen that much wear in years," Mr Herring leans back in his chair, watching passing cars. "It was a good thing you did for her," Stephan reassured, taking a sip of his coffee. "It gave her one less thing to stress about over the summer."

"Shame she didn't stick around to say goodbye." The older man sighs, Stephan puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure she wanted to, you know she was cutting it close before the start of her studies." Herring nods, the old car he'd been loaning was in his driveway when he woke on Saturday morning, it hasn't done that many miles in a good decade but it was a good thing, he smiles. "I'm going to miss that girl." he looks up at the vast sky, not a single cloud drifting over head, a gentle breeze cools the summer heat. "She deserves to be happy," Stephan finishes his cup, getting up from his chair. "She's worked hard enough for it." He looks back into the shop, calling out. "How's it looking?"

Manny had been in an upbeat mood all morning, he walks to the doorway, as professional as the boy can manage. "The fuel gauge is faulty, I suggest getting it fixed before you end up stranded on the side of the road."

@kassiekole22 @delurkr @ctrvpani @tinynightmarewoman

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#the devil in me #the dark pictures anthology #The dark pictures the devil in me #Manny Sherman #The Beast of Arkansas #oneshot #Fanfic #ramblings #supermassive games

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p---leia · 5 years ago

Conversation

Ancient Writer of dreams and nightmares: I am 71 (-one month), and have been writing (making up tales) since I was three. I can still remember my Pawpaw whittling a pencil for me, and Mawmaw tearing a piece of brown grocery bag for me to write on. They weren't 'poor', but writing paper wasn't to be wasted on a 'kid' just for fun. I carefully scripted my first short story.

Of course my 'letters' looked more like ancient Hanguel, so I had to read it to my "captured" audience. I really don't remember the story, but as my grandparents had a yard full of chickens and my dog, Mutt, liked to chase them (because of this we 'both' got into trouble -- because I always joined the chase) I most probably wrote about that.

My Pawpaw was a story-teller. For several years I thought there really was a baby found in the wilds of the African jungle and raised by the great apes. I thought he was the luckiest babe, EVER!

Then I found Pawpaw's books about three years after he died. I was eleven when he died, and felt that my best friend had abandoned me. But when I found those books I realized just where Tarzan actually came from and went to. I read everyone of those books and got the complete picture. THEN..

Well, Pawpaw also told stories of Daniel Boone and Davey Crocket...before I saw them on Disney. Then, of course, I went to school and learned what I already knew. Pawpaw was an excellent story-teller and never mixed up his facts, time-lines, or characters.

Growing up under his influence had a lot to do with how I developed as a story-teller. At family gatherings when I meet cousins I haven't seen in decades, they STILL remember me and the stories that I used to tell them. My children and grandchildren have grown up with me re-telling Pawpaw's old stories, and sharing many that I made up on the spot.

But I think what I read in my early years developed my writing style.

I was just turned eight when I read my first Shakespeare, MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. He was my first favorite author. Then I was forced to read Romeo and Juliet. I was disgusted by the fact that TRAGEDY was made famous as a ROMANCE! Even at the innocent (then) age of fourteen, I was disgusted with the idea that it was considered romantic for 'anyone', let alone 'teenagers' to commit suicide over unrequited love.

My sister (now 68) and I recently discussed this play. Because she had a 'forbidden' teenage love, she said that she related to the story (even though she had never read it). GASP! It was required reading in ninth grade!

I remember our dad breaking up my sister and her boyfriend, who was really cool. He was a hard working farm boy who had saved his money to buy a motorcycle. AND his own car. But he wasn't good enough for my sister. smh

I always thought her story would make a great LifeTime movie. But I'm not touching it. She would 'skin me' for sharing with the world her broken heart. And if I added the stuff that sells today, she'd scalp me for lying. Not a win situation at all. So, I will write notes in my "Random Jottings Journal" for future decendants who might grow into writers or story-tellers.

By the way, the title "RANDOM JOTTINGS" came from a sci-fi book that I read as a kid in the fifties. I don't remember the author, although I'm pretty sure it 'might' be from a Heinlein juvenile book. But I've never found a reference to any sci-fi books using that term. SO!!! If anyone recognizes "RANDOM JOTTINGS", which was a note book that a professor/scientist/genius used to keep his 'thoughts', PLEASE share the author's name and the title of the book!!! Thank You.

In the meantime, I referenced Shakespeare. James Oliver Curwood wrote about Kazan, the Wolf Dog, and later Baree, Son of Kazan. From those two books, read when I was eleven, I searched for and found other books about Canada. Later there was Walter Farley, author of the Black Stallion, and the Island Stallion series. I think I met my FIRST friendly alien in the Island Stallion Races.

Of course, Edgar Rice Burroughs taught me much false history about the jungles of Africa, as well as the Moon and Mars. But I loved every 'read-under-the-covers-with a-flashlight' minute! I believe he was a contemporary of Zane Grey, because he wrote a few non-jungle and non-space stories, too. Which led me to Zane Grey.

Having read both of their biographies at a young age, I learned about the hardships of being a writer. I should say 'the hardships of a struggling writer'. I have never had a problem writing. Since I write for 'fun' and not 'profit', the few short stories I've had published were by local press, and a State magazine.

No, my struggles have centered around graduating high school, and completing college, stuggling to satisfy my husband, a 'Mr. Spock in the Flesh' personality, and later raising two children without benefit of parental support or child support. But we survived in the middle of laughter and many tears. And my made up stories about children lost in the woods who were rescued by a great friendly bear, or wolf. Or dog. And sometimes by a great Black Panther - a by product of one of my Pawpaw's 'local historical tales'.

I understand that publishers detest stories that begin with "It was a dark and stormy night.." But let me tell you, some of the BEST bedtime stories occur on stormy nights when the power has gone out, and it's too hot for candles or lanterns. That shadow that stands darkest in the corner and seems to be moving towards the bed is actually grandma come to check on the kids, and stands quiet so not to disturb the kids if they're already asleep. But since they are awake, and they see her 'shadow', she becomes the old crone who lives in the castle dungeon, and has slipped her chains to visit with the 'wee folk'. But there are no fairies out on such a blustery night, so the old crone comes to visit with the 'wee bairn', who fall all over themselves to get out of bed and sit around her to hear her stories of 'long ago' and other 'dark and stormy nights'. Again -- unpublished, because publishers don't like ... LOL

Of course there's always On-Line publishing. But that involves more work than actual writing.

Back to the writrs who influenced my writing:

While I enjoy a good Western, an adventurous space trek, or time travel, I also enjoy the occasional Historical Romance. Georgette Heyer was my first! I still re-read her amazing books. Of course there's Jane Austen.

There are a myriad of modern writers that I have read over the last five decades. Heinlen, Asimov, Norton, Bradley, McCaffrey, Moon, Stirling, Krentz/Castle/Quick, and Moening, just to name a few of the ones whose books I have in my personal library.

Those older authors did affect my writing style to develope as I read their stories. The later authors helped me to move into the late 20th century. But I'm not so sure that I like the 21st century so much. It's all about being politically 'correct'. If you aren't ashamed of your gender, your race, your country, your religion, your culture, your family, your history, then you are prejudiced. That's just too much guilt to have to live with.

I'm still dealing with my mom's death from ten years ago. I was her care-giver for five years. Her doctor had given her nine months. I still worry if I did enough for her in those last years.

And though my children are grown with their own families, I worry that I wasn't a good enough parent. And I worthy as a grandmother? How was I as an older sister? I was responsible as a moral guide when our parents were at work. Was I a good neighbor? A good support in our Church? And Hollywood wants me to feel guilt about something I can't change?!!

I'm an old woman who still likes being a woman and enjoys liking men. I'm not just white. I'm also mixed with a bit of Native American, and even a drop of -- OMG!!! --- Black. snicker.

That's a serious joke, because as a kid I had a recuring nightmare that I was a black man being judged by a group of people in white hoods I was hanged amidst their fiery torches. I always thought those white hoods represented the Catholic Church, because at that young age I didn't know about the Ku Klux Klan. Even though I grew up in the South, my family was not involved with that group of out-lawrey. Thank God!

Still, I'm supposed to feel shame? For something not even my family supported.

I've always believed there's a hint of Fae in my DNA. Because I love dancing in the light of the full moon, and flying with the owls who perch outside my bedroom window and call to invite me to follow the moon's shadow. If I am part Fae, I know it came from my mother's people. They were Irish mixed with Alabama Indians who believed in the Nunnehi aka Immortal, and the Yunwi Tsunsdi, aka Little People.

ALSO, while there's no DNA proof of ancestry, I've always been a 'closet Chinese'.

In the Fifties, when WW2 was still fresh, and we were involved with the 'Korean Conflict', and at odds with China, I would sneak around the radio, turn down the volume, and tune into 'that wierd channel' that sometimes played Opera, or Chinese music. Ahhh. I would close my eyes and wander through the few visuals I'd found in books, or the occasional movie. (before color tv)

A year or two ago I was totally depressed and disgusted with American TV. Hollywood has become so political, so wierd. Their programming is no longer for entertainment, but to 'educate, enlighten, or to inform'. zzzzz

Then I found KDrama!!!!! Korean TV. Japanese Tv. squeal!!! Chinese TV.

The rom/coms are sweet and 'pure'. Okay. I'm realistic. This is not a reflection of real life on any planet. But the innocence of the early 1950s programs is there. Similar to Disney's 'Summer Magic'. I'm happy with those dramas that remind me of thati nnocence. I have found a few dramas that shared more than I cared for, and I do enjoy an occasional 'romp'. But I've always preferred the Lady and Gentleman characters.

And watching these programs have reminded me of those fairy tales and legends from my childhood that had been sprinkled with the Occasional Oriental myth, legend, and children's tale.

Then I remembered my FIRST historical legend. "The White Stag" by Kate Seredy, is the tale of Atilla the Hun!

I recently found a copy of that book and am waiting for a quiet time, when the power is out and there's nothing to do. Then I will use one of the many flashlights I bought for a huge hurricane, and relax on the sofa beneath an open window and read this legend once again. I live in Florida. The odds of this happening increases as the summer progresses. I can't wait to learn if my memory of this tale of Atilla the Hun remained true, or has been distorted in the last half of a century.

Most of the tales that I write involve space adventures, the occasioanl ghost, and encounters with fairies, the evil ones, not the romantic ideal fairy. smh

I've never been very good with romance or comedy. But thanks to the recent influence of the Asian productions, I have re-formatted one of my dark adventures and turned it into a rom/com.

I love a good joke, but very seldom get the point or see the humor. And I can NEVER remember the punch line if I try to share a joke. My family have said they will write on my tombstone --

"I don't remember the punchline ... but it was funny."

But as I write humorous lines or events I find myself laughing. Or crying at sad events. And I am all 'giggly' when I write what is supposed to be innocent romance between a young and shy couple. But I have never felt that my own reactions were a true guide to how the story might come across to a 'reader'.

As it happens, I have two sisters younger than I am. My middle sister is bored easily and immediately redirects our conversation to something about 'her'. Okay. I understand. She is lonely, needy, and maybe a bit selfish? Not judging. She's the 'middle child' and that's her excuse. ROFL..

But the youngest sister is my greatest fan who declares that I am an awesome writer. "I love you, sister, dear."

So she visited me last week and patiently listened as I read the first chapter. She listened quietly, and I wondered if I had 'read her to sleep'. sigh. Boring books are often the best sleeping pill. Then I heard her laugh.

Squeals/Dancing/hooting/flying around the room in ecstasy!!

Okay! At least one person has laughed. And she's not that easily 'tickled'.

So, I will always carry on and write. But now I feel that at least I might be following a path strewn with "Black-Eyed-Susans, honeybees, butterflies, and bunnies".

I don't know if anyone will read this, or will enjoy it. I hope so. While sharing bits of my youth, my worries, and my concern about certain ones of my 'stories', I actually had ideas for developing 'new' stories.

I am always amazed when writers say they are 'blocked'. I have only to open my eyes to see a world around me that no one else can envision. I listen to a song, and I'm in a different world, time, planet. A gift from Pawpaw, and Mother's DNA.

It is my oldest granddaughter's birthday this month, and I don't know what to give her for her birthday. But when she was younger, she always asked me to tell her a story. I think that I will pull out one of my OLD/ANCIENT tales that I wrote when her dad was her age and make it into a book for her.

p---leia aka Mamma KayeLee

7/19/2020

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