#big top halcyon

[bingobongobonko]

Hi! I'm here to ask you about your friend's Lancer campaign. What's the premise? Is there a big bad? What's the setting? On a scale of "This Slaps" to "Gay AF" how would rate the campaign?

HI TY FOR ASKING!!!! Basically we were Union types (false actuallly... only Yves was a member of Union, everyone else is nonaffiliate i think. this is a tangent im sorry). But anyway, we sent to a charity event on a dying planet, mostly as a diplomatic measure between the Union and the various karrakin barony houses that're on Bo as they try to raise money to afford en masse evacuations. The planet is dying, and they're running out of time, so this charity event's a BIG deal. Just to keep the peace, is what we were told. Until that's the exact opposite of what happened because the charity got hijacked, people fled the scene in panic and trampling ensued, AND hostage situation held up by an extremist group bound to the demands of the "Oracle." It's a cult. It becomes very obvious this is a cult to all of us. For the most part, they, Helios, can be considered the first big bad but they're not THE big bad. That's the Oracle itself, which at the time we had no fucking idea who this Oracle was. They suck though, just awful. TLDR they ruined Bo's first chances of evacuation, brainwashed the NHP of a certain Egbert Station and ultimately we were forced to kill them before the station was destroyed, and even then, we had to reroute the explosion from the station to down under, where an evacuated city lay. And in that moment, it's all gone. Millions of people displaced and tbh. I still feel guilty about that. We all fumbled the rolls to stop the explosion so it's like.... damn.. But yeah this is the kind of people we're dealing with, they're obsessed with a prophecy that involves the damnation of this planet. I said we were Union types in the past tense because after all of this happens, Union breaks official ties with the group and essentially leaves us to our own devices. Which I think my character is the only one who takes personal offense to that, it's just like. Are you serious. I've worked up in your organization for years.... but yeah besides the point. Now, we're Bo's designated Lancers to uncover the whole Helios issue and to buy Bo some more time before shit goes south. We're in lategame campaign, shit has GONE south. Yves, my character, has personally met the big bad, the Oracle, and even before that, we found out just why the planet is dying. 50 years ago, something landed on Bo. Ever since, the Oracle has been in the backdrop as its nanites continue to eat the planet alive, and Helios is convinced this HAS to happen. We have to relive this again. SURPRISE!!! This is a repeat, we're in a timeloop and the whole prophesy is that time and time again, the same events will unfold on repeat til end of days because there is nothing outside of this loop. And that's why Helios exists. People are afraid of what's beyond this timeloop, and Yves has seen it personally, in the metavault that the Oracle sent him to. Said some gnarly shit to Yves and just was like. Fuck off! I hate you! before it sent him to superhell. Or more accurately, sent to nothing. Suspended in a shattered reality. Where there is nothing. Some crazy shit I tell you. Oh and sorry ok a lot of details I'm missing out on but this is pretty important, the Oracle itself? Manmade. We made that, a long time ago. It was originally developed by Halcyon, a weapons subsidiary company on Bo, but the project was ultimately discontinued when they realized having nanites pilot a mech all tuned in to a hivemind (the Oracle) is a bad fucking idea. Do You See Why. so the big bad is manmade horrors!!!!! ippee!!!! As of right now, we know HOW the Oracle is doing what it does but we don't know why. At least I don't.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Someone Like You

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Mild angst, handjob, smut. Word count: ~1.4k

Summary: The Halcyon is hosting its Christmas Eve party for its guests, and her and Billy are both feeling the pressure of being rushed off their feet. They find a moment of respite alone together.

Author's note: A part two of my first Smuffmas entry. Day eleven of the Smuffmas prompts - "a fancy party and praising". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

It has been twelve days since her and Billy had decorated the staff sitting room. Twelve long, miserable days since she had last felt his lips upon hers and the way he’d rutted against her, not that she’s counting. They have scarcely had a chance to see each other in the lead up to Christmas. Beyond shy smiles and blushes exchanged in passing, they’ve had no other interaction. But that’s not for lack of wanting to or trying. The mistletoe she’d rescued has remained in her apron pocket, primed for an opportune moment.

December is always the busiest time of year for the hotel. People want to celebrate in style, and so they check in to the Halcyon to be waited on hand and foot. She’s not sure what it is about Christmas that drives people to make the most outlandish demands of the staff, but it has stolen away her festive cheer. She is exhausted.

It’s Christmas Eve and the day has been spent preparing for the annual party they host for the guests who will be staying with them on the big day itself. On top of turning down rooms, and helping the kitchen staff to prepare food, she’s now expected to serve drinks at the party itself.

The staff who are married with children have been given Christmas off to spend with their families, so The Halcyon is operating on a skeleton crew of the young and the single, her and Billy are unlucky enough to find themselves among them.

She weaves her way through the bar, abuzz with the sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses. Every surface seems to glitter with decorations, amplified by the muted lighting of the lamps that adorn the centre of each table.

Nodding and smiling politely each time a guest relieves her of a saucer of champagne that rests on the heavy tray she carries around the room, she breathes a withering sigh once it’s finally empty. Her feet ache with how many passes she’s made around the crowded space, yet there’s no time to rest. She has to collect the empties and take them back to the kitchen to be washed, so that they can be refilled anew by the bar staff. It seems never ending.

Doing a quick scan of the bar, she can see that Kate and Feldman are circling the room with drinks and canapés, so she’ll be fine to leave for a little while to wash up some glasses. The food prep has already been done, so the kitchen is empty, save for the staff going in to refresh plates and glassware. 

The empties rattle precariously against each other on her tray as she walks carefully back to the kitchen, her burden suddenly seeming not quite so great as she spots Billy doing exactly the same thing. He’s clad in his usual bellboy uniform, though is without his cap, a means to help him blend in with the rest of the serving staff.

He pushes his tray onto the draining board next to the sink, and a glass wobbles, toppling off and shattering loudly against the hard linoleum of the kitchen floor.

“Ah– shit!” He grumbles, kneeling to pick up the pieces.

She quickly deposits her own tray onto the food prep table and kneels to help him.

“It’s okay, Billy, it’s just a glass,” she reassures him, picking up some of the larger shards and depositing them into the bin beneath the sink.

“I know, I know,” he replies with a sigh, “but I can’t seem to get anything right today.”

“How do you mean?” She asks, righting herself and brushing her hands on her skirt as he reaches for a dustpan and brush to sweep up the rest of the mess.

“Spilled champagne all down a lady’s frock just now, broke a glass,” his brow furrows as he brushes the broken pieces into the pan and empties it into the bin. “Brought the wrong luggage to the wrong room earlier too.”

She watches as he stands again, chucking the dustpan and brush to one side, and she offers him a sympathetic smile. “It’s our busiest time of year, everyone makes mistakes. I forgot to fold the toilet paper into a point in the Royal Suite earlier, and Mrs. Garland gave me a right earful.”

He tugs awkwardly at the bottom of his bellboy uniform, his mouth turned downwards, as is his gaze. “Yeah…but…I’m gonna be drafted next year. If I can’t get this job right, how am I gonna manage to defend our country? I’m useless.”

Her brows pinch together in concern, stepping forward to gently cup Billy’s cheek. It’s soft and warm against her palm, growing warmer still beneath her touch. “Oi, don’t talk like that. You’re doing a fine job. And you’re so brave, I know I’ll feel safer having you protecting us all.”

His blue eyes flit up to meet hers, wide and filled with uncertainty. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Billy, I think you’re wonderful.”

He huffs a soft chuckle, turning pink as he pulls away slightly, lips pressed into a tight smile. “I dunno about that…”

“Well, I do,” she reaches into her apron pocket, pulling out the mistletoe she’s kept stashed there since their first kiss. “See? I’ve been saving this in the hopes we’d use it again.”

Billy visibly softens, shoulders pulling away from his ears, and he steps towards her, hands gripping her waist as he presses his lips to hers. It’s a slow, soft, lingering kiss that they hold for a few moments, before he reluctantly breaks away. It sets her pulse racing and she wraps both her arms around his neck to keep him close.

“Anyone could walk in,” he whispers, his eyes searching her face uncertainly.

“They won’t though. They’re all busy.”

She kisses him again, and this time they are both more eager as he backs her up against the sink. She smiles into it, the mistletoe she’d been holding absentmindedly falling from her fingers and onto the floor behind them.

His excitement grows more apparent as he presses against her, and she drops an arm down between them to palm at him through his grey trousers.

He groans, pressing his forehead against hers. “We shouldn’t…”

“But you want to?”

“God…yes…yes!”

His voice is a strained whisper, causing excitement to flutter hotly in her lower belly. She uses both hands to unbuckle his belt, before unzipping his trousers and snaking her fingers into his underwear to wrap around his hardened length.

Her eyes widen slightly in surprise. Though she’d felt it as he’d ground against her the first time they’d kissed, it’s another thing entirely to have her hand on it. Billy is impressively well endowed.

“So big,” she coos, her thumb swiping over the wetness that’s gathered at the tip.

His head falls against her shoulder with a gasp, and his grip on her waist tightens as she slowly strokes her hand up and down, dragging the foreskin along with it, feeling every ridge and vein.

“So good for me, Billy, you’re so good.”

She speeds up her movements and his head tilts back slightly, eyes screwed shut and lips parted, as he breathes raggedly. “Oh god…please…”

Smirking, she leans in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Have you ever been with a woman, Billy?”

“N–no,” he pants, hips canting to chase the movement of her hand.

“Do you think about it when you touch yourself?”

“Yeah…I…I think about you.”

She clenches around nothing at the confession, biting her lip, twisting her wrist slightly as she pumps at his cock.

“Is that what you want?”

He whines slightly, nodding and pulling her closer, a strand of his gelled hair falling forward against his forehead. “Mmmm…I want you.”

“Such a good boy,” she purrs. “Perhaps if you ask nicely then that’s what you’ll get for Christmas.”

She feels his stomach muscles tense, a grunt escaping him as he pulsates in her palm, coating her knuckles in hot, sticky spend.

Withdrawing her hand, she licks it from her fingers, the taste slightly salty, and hums in satisfaction.

He stares at her, chest heaving and eyes wide, transfixed by the sight.

“Are you real?” He asks breathlessly.

She giggles, brushing his stray strand of hair back into place. “If you do a good job for the rest of this evening, perhaps I’ll let you find out.”

Part one || Series masterlist

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 2: Just Didn’t Think You’d Remember

You and Joel reconnect. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through ch. 1, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 4.7K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

There was a child staring at you. 

It took you half a second to process that fact, the alcohol from the night before making your head pound and stomach turn. It also didn’t help that you didn’t really know any children so you weren’t sure you’d ever woken up by one sitting just inches from your face, watching you intently. At least, not recently. It wasn’t exactly something you were expecting. 

“Hi!” she said brightly. 

“What the hell…” 

“I don’t think you’re allowed to say that in front of me,” she cut you off, still watching you intently, her curls bouncing as she cocked her head. “At least my dad tells my uncle that all the time when he says that. Why are you on my couch?” 

You lifted your head a little bit and dropped back on the pillow when it made your stomach turn. You were under a vaguely familiar crocheted blanket in a room you absolutely did not recognize and you had no idea where to even begin. 

“Well, kid…” 

“Sarah,” she cut you off, still smiling. There was a gap in her smile and her front teeth were still a bit too big for her face. 

“Sarah,” you repeated. “I don’t even know where I am so you might know better than me…” 

“My dad’s friends who sleep over usually stay in his room,” she said, sitting back from you a bit. She was perched on the edge of a dated coffee table, her skinny legs sticking out straight in front of her from a pair of bright blue shorts, a matching jersey with a soccer ball on the front of it on top. “He tries to act like I don’t know about them though. So it’s weird you’re out here, I don’t usually get to meet his friends.” 

“Right,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your head spun. You felt fully clothed under the blanket so you didn’t think you’d had sex with anyone. Which, since you didn’t remember fucking anyone, was a good thing. But that meant you’d wound up at some guy’s house - a guy who had a kid - and didn’t know how. Or why. Or who. “And… Who’s your dad?”

 “Hey, Baby Girl,” Joel rushed over, bending over to get on Sarah’s level. “Pretty sure told you to eat breakfast, not bother my friend…” 

“I’m not bothering her!” She protested, turning her big brown eyes to you. “Am I?” 

You were about to agree with her but Joel didn’t give you the chance. 

“Do you or do you not want braids for the tournament?” He asked. “Because I’m not gonna have time to braid all that hair of yours if you’re sittin’ in here, goofing off, instead of eating your cereal. So. Gotta pick. Goof off or braids. Which is it?” 

She sighed heavily. 

“Braids.” 

“OK then,” he said, straightening up to his full height. He somehow looked even more massive from your position on the couch as he stood next to a little girl. “That means you gotta get movin’.” 

She got up with a huff and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling as she stomped away. 

“Never let me do anything cool,” she muttered. Joel just shook his head and smiled a little, watching her for a moment before he turned his attention back to you. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “Told her to let you sleep…” 

“No,” you shook your head a little and sat up, your stomach churning. You blinked for a second, the light from the windows still holding that soft, hazy quality the early morning sun had. “S’fine…” 

You started piecing together the night before, at the bar. Joel coming up to you, the two of you having drinks that devolved into doing shots and, at some point, you forgot your address. You didn’t remember ending up at his house, though. 

And you certainly didn’t remember him saying anything about a kid. 

“How you feeling?” He asked, his hands in the pockets of his cotton sleep pants and an amused smile on his face. “You seemed to be having a hell of a time last night.” 

“Been better,” you replied. “Jesus, I am not 17 anymore…”

Joel laughed. 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” 

“Hey Dad!” Sarah called from another room. You winced a little at the sound, your head pounding. 

Joel looked up, toward where her voice was coming from. 

“What’s up, Kiddo?”

“Do I have to eat the apple, too?” 

“Is it on your placemat?” He called back to her. 

She sighed, so loudly you could hear it. 

“Yes.” 

Joel shrugged, even though you were the only one who could see it. 

“Well, there’s your answer,” he said. “C’mon, you’re about to go run for hours, you need fuel. Eat at least half the apple, then I’ll braid your hair.” 

He looked back at you. 

“Coffee?” 

“Probably good,” you said, trying to find the will to get to your feet and looking down at the blanket that was now half on your lap and half on the couch. You realized why it was familiar now. You’d passed out under it many times, it had been the blanket that Mrs. Miller kept draped over the back of the furniture in the living room. It had just been a while. 

Joel held out a hand and you considered it for a moment. Joel was offering you a hand. To touch you. Though, you realized, you’d probably touched him at least some the night before. You were a cuddly drunk. But still. It was Joel. The guy you hadn’t even spoken to in more than a decade, the guy you’d spent just about all of high school in love with, the guy you lost your virginity to on prom night like some kind of inane cliche you’d tell one of your students to rethink if they turned it in as a piece of writing. Touching him felt monumental. 

You took his hand. 

He tugged you to your feet and you draped the blanket on the end of the couch before trailing behind him to the kitchen.

Sarah sat on one side of the table, intently reading the back of a cereal box, 2/3rds of an apple sitting on a paper towel next to her bowl. You sat across from her, hoping you didn’t look too haggard and ridiculous, and Joel went to the coffee pot on the counter, pouring two cups before adding milk and sugar to one. He stirred it and set it in front of you before sitting at the head of the table with a mug of his own. You just looked at him for a moment. He frowned. 

“What?” He asked. “Take it different now?” 

“No,” you said, picking it up and taking a sip of it. “Just didn’t think you’d remember.” 

He shrugged, taking a sip from his own cup before leaning over to look at Sarah’s bowl. 

“Need two more bites of apple and four more shredded wheat,” he said, checking his watch. “And we’ve got 20 minutes before Emily’s here to pick you up.” 

“She’s always late…” 

“Not countin’ on that,” he said. “Come on, kiddo.” 

She rolled her eyes but made a show of taking another bite of apple before going back to the cereal box. 

“What do they put on the back of cereal boxes now, anyway?” You asked. “When I was a kid there were puzzles and things.” 

“Stuff like that,” Sarah said. “But they’re stupid and easy. I’m trying to figure out if they just took a picture of one shredded wheat and used it over and over or if there are different ones.” 

You stifled a laugh and raised your eyebrows at Joel who just shrugged. Sarah took another bite of apple - an almost laughably small one - and looked away from the box to look at you. 

“So what’s your name, anyway? And why are you at my house? And…” 

“Eat your cereal,” Joel cut her off. She sighed but obeyed. “And this is Goldie. She’s a friend of mine from when I was a kid. We hung out last night but it was too late for her to drive home and be safe so she stayed here.” 

Sarah frowned and swallowed. 

“Goldie is a weird name.” 

“Sarah,” Joel scolded. 

“What!” She looked at him. “It is!” 

“That’s because it’s not actually my name,” you said. “It’s just what your dad and his family call me, like a nickname.” 

“Oh,” she said. “OK. How come I haven’t met you before?” 

You glanced at Joel who looked back at you, seemingly at as much of a loss as you were. 

“I’ll tell you if you eat two more shredded wheat,” you said. She scrunched her freckled nose for a second before obeying. You resisted the urge to laugh again. “I lived pretty far away until recently. I just moved back, so I haven’t seen your dad in a very long time.” 

She nodded slowly and swallowed before dropping her spoon in her bowl and tilting it toward Joel. 

“Have I met the dad requirement?” She asked, sass and sarcasm evident. 

“We’ll accept it because of the time crunch,” he said. “Run and brush your teeth - actually brush ‘em don’t just run the water - and grab me two hair ties, your brush, and the gel.” 

She shoved her chair back from the table and ran off, pounding up some unseen stairs and slamming a door behind her. 

“Jesus, need to bottle her energy…” Joel groaned, rubbing his eyes before taking a sip of coffee. You just stared at him. He frowned. “What?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, Joel,” you said, incredulous. “Maybe the entire child you have that you didn’t think to fucking mention?” 

He winced a little at that. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Kinda thought you’d sleep through gettin’ her out the door. You were pretty damn out of it…” 

“You said you weren’t married!” You hissed, going back over the conversation from the night before that you could remember. 

“I’m not,” he shrugged. “Don’t need to be married to have a kid.” 

“OK but where’s her mom?” You asked, keeping your voice low. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he shrugged again. “She left years ago. Been just me and Sarah since she was about four months old.”

“Joel,” you gaped at him. “You’re a dad. To a kid.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little. “Tends to happen when you have one…” 

Sarah came storming down the stairs and ran over to Joel, hairbrush and gel in hand. 

“Alright,” he said, standing up with a groan and taking the supplies from Sarah. “Couch, let’s go. We got maybe ten minutes, ain’t doin’ that zig-zag part you like…” 

“But Dad, they’re always late!” She groaned, heading for the living room. You picked up your coffee and followed, watching as she flopped on the couch where you’d spent the night. “There’s so much time!” 

“You are not making anybody any later,” he said, balancing the bottle of gel on the back of the couch before starting to separate her hair into two parts with the brush. “Hair tie.” 

He held out his hand and she slid one off her wrist and dropped it into his open palm. He took it and tied half of her curls off to one side before focusing on the other side. 

“You excited for your games?” He asked as he started near her forehead with a chunk of hair, his large, thick fingers moving with almost surprising deftness through her curls, adding more to each strand as he went. 

“I think so,” she said. “Coach keeps acting like we’re going to win but I dunno. We’re playing the Lightning for round two and they kicked our butt last time.” 

“That was a few months ago, right?” He asked, working his way down her head. “Y’all have gotten better.” 

“I guess,” she said. “But so have they, right?” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. Hair tie.” 

He held his hand out again, half of her hair now gathered in a French braid that reached the top of her shoulder. She pulled another hair tie off her wrist and handed it to him. He tied off the braid and moved on to the other side. 

“Gonna behave yourself today?” He asked. “Listen to your coach and Emily’s mom?” 

“Yes,” you could hear her eye roll from across the room. 

“Good,” he said. “Expect you to be on your best behavior…” 

“But I like my worst behavior.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he said, finishing the matching braid on the other side of her head. He squeezed gel into his hand and smoothed it over her hair. “Mean it, Kiddo. Be good. Watch that mouth of yours.” 

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Sarah jumped up, running to answer it. There was a little blonde girl waiting on the other side of it and a woman who looked like a harried, older clone of her was standing at her back. 

“Hi Joel,” she smiled. “Hope we haven’t kept you waiting!” 

“Not at all,” he said. “Right on time. Sarah, got your stuff? Grabbed your lunch?” 

“Oh crap,” she darted past you, back toward the kitchen, and came running back with a lunch bag. Joel picked up her duffle bag from the entryway floor and put it over her shoulder. “OK, got it!” She smiled. 

“Good,” he kissed the crown of her head. “Alright, have fun, Baby Girl. Kick ass, play nice.” 

“Kick ass, play nice,” she repeated before leaning around him. “Bye, Goldie!” She looked back to Joel. “Bye, Dad!” 

The woman - Emily’s mom, apparently - looked you up and down and you smiled tightly at her. You just heard her turning to Sarah when Joel closed the door as the group headed to the car. 

“So who’s your dad’s friend?” 

You flinched as the door closed and Joel turned to look at you. 

“Breakfast?” He asked. “I do got shit besides shredded wheat. Looks like you might need some grease to soak up that liquor.” 

“I seem to recall that you’re the one who wanted to do shots,” you replied. “But yeah, I won’t argue with food.” Your stomach churned. “Or I think I won’t, anyway.” 

Joel jerked his head toward the kitchen and headed that way, you trailing behind him. He just nodded at the table and you sat down, holding your coffee cup in both hands. You watched as Joel got eggs and bacon out of the fridge and started cooking. It took effort to not look surprised. You weren’t sure Joel had even knew how to boil water when you knew him. Of course, that had been a while ago. And he apparently had a kid to look after so he had to have picked up a few things. 

“So,” you said after a few awkward minutes. “Last night…” 

He nodded and took a swig of coffee. 

“What about it?” 

“I don’t remember all of it,” you said slowly. “And I’m pretty sure we didn’t but… did… did we…” 

“You askin’ if we fucked?” He looked at you brows raised. Your face got hot and you nodded, resisting the urge just run away now and pretend you’d never met Joel Miller to begin with. He laughed once. “No, Goldie. We didn’t fuck. I tend to prefer my women aware enough to actually know what’s goin’ on, thank you very much. You weren’t exactly clearin’ that bar.” 

You relaxed a little. 

“Thank fuck for that much,” you took another sip of coffee and Joel put bagels in the toaster. “So… You’re a dad.” 

He laughed a little and cracked some eggs in a pan. 

“I’m a dad.” 

“How’d that happen?” 

He looked at you for a moment. 

“You telling me a fancy college professor doesn’t know about the birds and the bees?” He teased. “When two grown ups love each other very much…” 

“I will come dump coffee down your shirt.” 

He laughed and shook his head. 

“Just happened,” he said after a moment. “One of those things, I guess. Not like it was on purpose but…” 

“How old is she?” You asked. 

“Turned 11 in July,” he replied. 

You did a little math in your head and you laughed once, loud, before clamping your hand over your mouth. 

“What?” He frowned at you. 

“Oh that’s rich,” you shook your head, sitting back fully in your chair. 

“What?” He asked again, looking genuinely confused. 

“If she turned 11 in July, that means the last time I saw you, you had a knocked up girlfriend at home,” you tried to stifle your laughter and failed. “Oh man and you were on MY ass about my life choices…” 

“Hey, I was right though,” he pointed the spatula at you. “Fuck that guy.” 

The toaster popped and he pulled the bagels out, smearing cream cheese on them before putting an egg on each one, followed by some bacon and a slice of cheese. He finished it with salt and pepper and put a plate in front of you before sitting next to you. You just stared at the sandwich for a moment and he frowned. 

“What?” 

“How do you remember this shit?” You asked, looking back up at him. You remembered trying to convince him to even try a bagel sandwich with cream cheese when you were hung over teenagers on a Saturday morning and Joel reluctantly agreeing that it was delicious. 

He shrugged. 

“You had good taste in breakfast sandwiches.”

You took a bite and moaned a little in spite of yourself. Joel looked at you, brows raised and mouth full and you felt your cheeks get hot again. 

“Sorry,” you said. “Just been a while since I had one of these.” 

“What, fuckin’ Brad not much of a cook?” He asked. 

You laughed a little. 

“Not of things like this,” you said. “No.” 

He nodded slowly before setting his sandwich down. 

“Alright,” he said. “Two options. One, we get you an Uber so you can get on with whatever you famous fuckin’ authors do on random Saturdays.” 

You rolled your eyes and Joel ignored you. 

“Two, you wait until I can get my truck runnin’ and then I drive you home.” 

You frowned a little. 

“What’s wrong with your truck?” 

“Needs a new radiator,” he said. “S’why I’m not going to Sarah’s tournament today, just got the part delivered yesterday, haven’t had the chance to fix it. Can help, if you want.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Like old times.” 

He smiled back. 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

“Well, as it happens, famous authors don’t do much on Saturdays,” you said. “We pretty much sit at home and procrastinate on writing.” 

“Sounds like bullshit.” 

“It is. But it means I am free to hand you wrenches.” 

He smiled. 

“Then let’s go, grease monkey.” 

***

Well that hadn’t been how Joel thought the morning was going to go. 

You’d been dead to the world when he got Sarah up. You’d always been a heavy sleeper and he doubted that had changed much in the past 15 years. When you passed out on his couch in the afternoons as a kid, an atom bomb couldn’t wake you up. When the two of you would sneak out to go get drunk and star gaze at the park, you’d fall asleep curled against his side and he’d have to be the one to set alarms on his shitty flip phone to get you both up. You slept right through them. 

So when he’d found you talking with Sarah on the couch, he hadn’t been sure what to do. 

But you’d solved that problem for him, taking the fact that he had a child he hadn’t told you about in stride. At least until Sarah was out of earshot, anyway. 

And Joel wasn’t about to tell you that you’d done the math about her conception wrong. That, when it came down to it, you were the reason he had a daughter in the first place. 

It was surprising, how easy it was to fall into your friendship again. Like no time had passed, like the last time you’d spoken to him it hadn’t devolved into screaming and tears.

“Gimme the 3/4 inch wrench,” he held his hand out below the front of the truck and watched what little of you he could see as you rifled through the tool box on the ground and dropped the wrench into his waiting palm. “Thanks.” 

This felt like old times, too. His truck in high school had been a beater on a good day. The damn thing needed some kind of work every other day, it seemed. But you were always happy to be there for it, handing him tools on demand and reading him questions from his upcoming history exam in between. He got so good with cars that he worked on yours, too, when you finally got one. Your shitty sedan needed just as much work as his shitty pickup but he liked feeling like he was doing something that was keeping you safe. Like he was doing his job, making sure your car wasn’t going to break down on you. 

“So,” he said as he waited for the coolant to drain. “Divorced, huh?” 

You sighed. 

“Yup.” 

“What’s the appropriate thing to say?” He asked. “I’m sorry or congratulations?” 

You laughed dryly. 

“That’s a great question. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” 

“Flathead.” 

You took the wrench from him. There was a clattering sound as you dug through the toolbox again and then you put the screwdriver in his waiting hand. 

“Can I ask what happened?”

You sighed again. 

“I’m still not sure I really know,” you said. “Things seemed fine. Great, actually. I’d just sold my book and was promoted to a tenure track role at the university and things just kind of… I don’t know, devolved? I almost wish it imploded so I could figure out what the breaking point was. It more just faded.” 

He wasn’t sure if he could say he was sorry without lying. He pulled the air intake duct and held the screwdriver out. 

“Pliers.” 

You traded out the tools and he went to work on the coolant hose. 

“I’m sorry you were hurt,” he said after a minute. “How are you doin’ now?” 

You were silent for a bit. 

“Divorce is a strange thing,” you said eventually. “I was married for 10 years. I know that he started Lipitor last year to keep his cholesterol under control and that he likes his french fries just this side of burnt and that he gets up like clockwork at 3:45 a.m. to pee. But I have no idea what state he’s even in right now. I know all these things about him but I don’t know him at all any more. It’s like he’s all that’s ever happened to me and like he was nothing to me at all. I’m not sure what to do with that.” 

Joel held out the pliers. 

“10 millimeter wrench.” 

You traded him tools again. 

“He why you’re in Austin?” He asked eventually. 

“Something like that,” you said. “I couldn’t stay teaching at the same school, not when… He’s getting married again. We haven’t even finalized the paperwork but he’s already replaced me and I couldn’t just sit there and watch it…” 

Joel slid out from below the truck to look at you for a moment. 

“He’s a fucking jackass,” he said bluntly. 

“Thanks,” you smiled a little. “Anyway, Anna’s here. She’s been needing some help for a while so I figured why not now, you know?” 

Joel slid back beneath the truck. 

“Sure,” he said, removing the fuse box. 

“Can I ask what happened with Sarah’s mom?” You asked after a moment. 

He held out the wrench. 

“Flathead again.” You traded the tools out, your fingers brushing his skin. He worked on the fan assembly. “And you can, just not that interestin’. We were seeing each other, pretty casually. Shit happened, she got pregnant, I panicked but she didn’t want an abortion so I tried to get my shit together. Then Sarah was born and… fuck, it’s like everything made sense, you know? She was perfect from the first damn second. Like everything I ever fucked up was supposed to get fucked up in just that way so she could be here. Her mom didn’t really feel that way, though. Think she thought it was gonna be easy for some reason and it wasn’t easy, not at all. 

“Scared the shit out of me when she left,” he continued. “Didn’t tell me where the fuck she was goin’ or what she was doin’, just vanished. Took me a few days to figure out she wasn’t dead but she basically told me she’d sign all her parental rights away. She didn’t want to be a mom and even if she did, she didn’t want to be a mom with me. So me n’Sarah moved on.” 

You were quiet for a moment. He held out the screwdriver. 

“Keep that close,” he said. “Need the 11 millimeter socket.”

You took the screwdriver and gave him the socket. 

“I’m sorry you went through that, Joel,” you said after a moment. “That must have been really hard…” 

“It took us a while to figure each other out,” he said. “But… I dunno. Worked out in the end. Think it was supposed to be just me and her. Works best that way. Now if I could get the rest of my life to go that damn smooth I’d be set. Flathead again.” 

You gave him the screwdriver and the two of you were quiet for a bit, the only sounds the sounds of Joel working on the truck. 

“What’d you think of Curtis & Viper 8?” You asked after a minute of not quite awkward silence. 

“Oh lord,” he laughed. “That training montage?” 

“Such bullshit, right?” You laughed back. “I know they weren’t really going for realism but there’s a limit, even for those…” 

“Should get drunk sometime when we’re not hung over,” he said. “Watch it again, I’d kill for your commentary on that shit…” 

“Oh you have to be drunk to watch that again,” you were still laughing. “But I’m in.” 

Joel smiled, even though you couldn’t see him. 

“Cool.” 

The time it took to replace the damn radiator flew by and, before too long, he had a working car again. But you were still at his house hours later, the two of you talking about nothing and everything at all. Eventually, you checked the time and sighed. 

“I should really get home,” you said. “Actually get changed, I probably smell.” 

“Nah,” Joel replied. “You forget that I played football with Josh Samuels, talk about smell…” 

You laughed at that and Joel relished the sound, the seemingly unbridled joy you had when you laughed like that, how he wanted to give you whatever you wanted just to make you laugh like that again. 

“I’ll drive you,” Joel said. “Assuming you can remember your damn address this time.” 

Joel drove you to a tree-filled area not far from the school, the neighborhood full of old builds and lots of reasons to keep the trees, your house a little bungalow in dark brick and ivy. He had the strange urge to go inside and check and make sure your electrical was run properly, that you had working heat for the coming winter, that you had some food on hand. 

“Thanks, for everything,” you smiled a little. “I had fun. A lot of fun.” 

“Me too,” he smiled back. “I’m glad I ran into you, Goldie.” 

You opened the door part way but froze with your hand on the handle. 

“Can…” you looked nervous. “Would it be OK if we did this again sometime? Maybe not the truck care part but the other parts. But I’d be fine with truck care, too.” 

“Sure, Goldie,” he smiled. “I’d like that.” 

You smiled. 

“Good,” you said. “It’s really good to see you, Joel.” 

“You too, Goldie.” 

He watched you walk up to your front door and let yourself in, staying outside until he knew that you were safely back at home.

Next Chapter

A/N: Y'all, I love having Joel dad. Him and Sarah are just two peas in their little pod and I'm in love with them.

I hope you liked this chapter! I'm really enjoying these characters and I'm so looking forward to exploring everything they mean to each other and everything they've been through both together and apart.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the ride. Love you!

[anjelicawrites]

A request for the war boys polycule, where Billy and reader are fed up of Tom flirting with people and decide to teach him a lesson. They know his flirting isn’t serious, but maybe after a stressful week at their jobs and Tom not helping much with the housework, them seeing him harmlessly flirting with someone again is their last straw. So they tie him up and spank him, then sexy time follows. ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: flirting, jealousy, kissing, spanking, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, Tom being the worst at housekeeping, a tiny bit of Billy x Tom.

NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!

Tom is a flirt. You noticed it immediately, after interviewing him at the hospital, back when you first met him, and Billy. To him is a second nature, like breathing; both you and Billy know it's never serious when he winks and smiles, rakish and a bit dangerous, to people who aren't you two. You aren't positive about many things in life, but Tom loving you and Billy too much to hurt the two of you, is one of the stones you have built your life upon.

Yet, sometimes it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

When you arrive in the tiny home you three share, none of your boys are there to welcome you. You try to do the math in your head: Tom should be at the pub, already, and Billy must be on his way home.

Even since a big chunk of his colleagues at the Halcyon didn't make it back from the War, your sweet bean had been promoted to concierge duty, which meant longer hours and more stress for him: he was happy as a bell boy, his salary is higher now, but so is the strain he's put under.

You yourself, since you switched from journalism to a desk job at the publishing house one of your oldest friends owns, you have to juggle more tasks than when you were a war journalist reporting from the front, with Nazis ready to put a bullet in your head. On top of that, you have to think about the house chores, since Tom doesn't even try to help and Billy arrives home so tired, he physically can't give you a hand most of the times. And it shows: you need to do some dusting and deep clean the floors, there's a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and too many shirts to iron.

With a sigh you let the bags fall on the floor. You don't ask for much, just a simple hand so that you can return home and don't feel like your day hasn't finished, yet.

Looking at the mess around you, you feel the flames of rage lick at your belly: you have the right to go to the pub and have a pint, like your lovers do! Who says that the house chores are all yours to manage?

You look at your reflection using the small mirror hanging in the narrow hallway, deciding you look presentable enough to go out and have your bloody pint. You abandon the bag where you have carried the manuscripts you're supposed to read and judge, send yourself a kiss through the mirror and grab your purse.

The pub is full and smoky, all your neighbors are here, those missing are on their way.

You spot Tom immediately by the counter, beer in hand he's chatting the daughter of the owner, who is too busy staring at him with puppy dogs eyes, to mind all the other patrons.

You don't go to him immediately, deciding to observe the way he seems to perk up when the girl laughs at one of his jokes, or one of the other men gives him a pat on his back. This is where Tom is the happiest, where he can boost himself and his incredible war stories; you know he loves you and Billy, yet you can't help but wonder if having to live your non-conventional relationship in the shadows ever puts a damp in his feelings. If, perhaps, he'd be happier with the pub owner's daughter, or any of the single women in the establishment.

Tom turns his head and notices you; a sincere smile appears on his lips and he motions you to join him at the counter. In public he can't be as open as he is at home with his affection, to the world you're Billy's wife, and a friend to Tom; you can't be anything more than that now that you stand by him, pint in one hand as you chat with one of the neighbors and try to ignore Tom's non stop flirting with anything that moves, all your frustration poured in the vise around your beer.

As soon as Billy arrives, cheeks apple red due to the cold weather, you realize he's not happy as well; he looks tired and makes a beeline for you with a stiff back and a slight frown on his mouth. He has a terrible 'poker face', as some American soldiers used to say, yet Tom doesn't seem to notice when he sees him and puts a pint in front of his face and keeps talking and smiling with everyone who would give him a bit of attention, which only makes the metaphorical dark cloud over Billy's head grow bigger and bigger.

You can feel your own rage grow, bitter in your belly, and you know you need to stop drinking now; the amount of chores waiting at home don't help brighten your mood, at least you wouldn't have to witness Billy's frown deepen and Tom being blissfully unaware.

Both your and Billy are silent as you two walk home.

Usually Billy is happy to share his day with you and to regard you with funny tales of his day at work; not tonight though. Sallow he smokes a cigarette, his hand in yours shakes a little with his own brand of unexpressed rage.

His sigh echoes yours when you two reach home.

"I'll do the dishes." He says, shoulders hunched.

Normally you'd thank him for his help and start doing something else, tonight you decide to hug him from behind, stopping his movements.

"What's wrong Billy?"

His hands find yours, crossed on his flat belly, his long fingers interlocking with yours; he needs a moment to spell out how he feels.

"Do you think Tom is happy with us?" He asks with a small voice.

You hold him tighter: you weren't the only one battling with these doubts.

"He looks far more happier with all these strangers than he is with us! Can't he see how much that hurts?"

"I don't think he realizes." You let your cheek find home between his scapulae. "It's the way he's made. He just doesn't see it, the same way he doesn't seem to understand that I need a hand at home. He breezes through, sometimes."

"Is it bad if I say that he needs to be taught a lesson?"

Sometimes you think your sweet bean Billy can't be any cuter than what he is, then he says something adorable and you just want to smother him with kisses.

"I think you might be right." You let him turn around in your embrace, he blushes at your devious smile. "And I might have the best idea known to man!"

Tom arrives home later, not drunk but his head buzzes pleasantly and his cheeks feel hot against the chilly wind that's sweeping the streets; he shivers when he enters the small hallway, if the heating is still working, it means you must be awake and working.

He finds you curled on the armchair, huddled in a dressing gown and under a blanket; the fire is still going but it's dwindled and you're squinting to read the manuscript in your hands.

You're the picture of home, and he couldn't be happier to have you in his life

"Hello love." He says with a smile.

"Hello stranger." You look up at him.

"When did you and Billy leave? I didn't notice."

He has bent his long back so that his face is at level with yours and he can steal a kiss from your pouty lips.

"I know. You were too busy being everyone's best friend."

You see the realization dawn on him.

You know Tom doesn't mean harm, he's used to hide his true self under a devil may care persona, and loses himself in it: he doesn't notice the pain he causes.

"You know it was just mindless fun, right?"

You see the way his eyes seem to get bigger and his mouth curves downwards; something that truly hurts him, is not being believed when he's telling the truth. For all the bravado, he can't stand to hurt you, or Billy, or the thought of you two considering him a liar.

You cup his cheek and he nuzzles your palm.

"I know. It still hurts though."

Tom kneels between your splayed legs and puts his big hands on your tights; his skin is running so hot you can feel it through the layers you're wearing.

"Let me show you." He says, voice uncharacteristically small.

"Will you?"

Billy makes enough noises to make sure Tom will hear his approach; if there's something they both come back with from the war, is the nasty reaction they both have to sudden noises.

Billy's arms circle Tom's waist, his lips find home on the delicate skin his nape; it still feels so strange to love another man the way he does Tom. It should feel like sin, like tarnishing himself, yet he can't stop the feeling from growing stronger and stronger with every day your little family spends together.

In front of him Tom shivers, and it's not the warmth of the dying fire.

"Yes." He croaks out.

Clothes gently fall from your three bodies as you climb to the master bedroom you share; Tom feels dizzy, his head full of cotton as he's been kissed and caressed, until he falls on the bed, eagerly sliding upwards until his head is laying on the pillows, cock hard and leaking on his tummy.

He moans when you straddle him to kiss him again, as your hands help him spread his arms, until he touches the headboard and grabs the wrought iron. He's so lost in your taste he doesn't feel the silk of a set of your old hold-ups stockings being wrought around his wrist, until you release his lips and slide down his long body.

His position doesn't come as a surprise.

When both him and Billy were recuperating at the war hospital, he had showed Billy some racy pictures he had acquired in France, a couple were of a scarcely dressed woman, in the same position he is right now; the blush that had covered Billy's cheeks had shot warmth in his belly, something he had elected to ignore, back then. He feels the same way right now: hot all over and ready to do anything you two demanded of him.

Gingerly he testes his bindings, knowing full well how the play of his thick muscles make you react: you must be drenched already.

He shots you and Billy a dirty smile, trying to hide the excitement he feels.

"What are you going to do to me?" He asks, trying to sound more collected than he actually is.

You smile, devilishly, your hands caressing the trembling muscles of his thighs.

"Give you the chance to show us how sorry you feel."

When your hands find the globes of his exposed arse, to knead the muscles, he jumps slightly: he knows what you're about to do.

The two of you had fooled around this way, that couple of times when Billy was working night shift whilst Tom didn't. It had been fun and the sex even better, after you had released him.

"You need to be taught a lesson." Billy almost manages not to stutter and turn tomato red.

"Is that so?" Tom smiles, rakish and impatient, testing the bindings again.

"Do you know how much it hurts to see you flirt with anything that moves?" You say, scratching the inside of his tight. "Only to come home to a mess?"

Tom hisses when you plant your nails in his thigh.

"Shut up Tom." You add. "And show us how sorry you are."

He's laying flat on his back, legs spread and bent to accommodate your form while Billy is kneeling by his side with his forehead against Tom's.

Slowly, following the long lines of his muscles, you caress Tom's legs to help him relax, gently reaching his arse to knead it again, feeling the firmness of his skin under your palms; he's already panting, eyes stubbornly boring into Billy's.

"Bloody hell!" He growls when the first smack lands.

It's a soft tap, he's more surprised than in pain and you build from there, adding your strength with each spank you let rain on his arse, reveling in the way his whole body twists and turns to escape your stinging palm, until Billy has to grab his legs to bend them against his tummy. Tom moans desperate and then sobs when the pain escalates, he babbles when Billy tries to soothe his pain with gentle words murmured against his sweaty forehead.

His biceps strain against the bindings, shiny with perspiration, as he tries to break free from them to finally get to you: even folded the way he is, his cock doesn't flag, it strains and rubs against his tights with jolts of pleasure that mix with the pain you're subjecting him to, fueling the fire burning in his belly, mixing with the torment of his wrist and stinging arse.

With desperate strength he rips his bindings to grab at Billy, his nails scratching his back as the latter uses his weight to keep him in place and you slap his arse one last time with all your strength, before stopping, breathless the same way he is.

You and Billy help him unfold his legs and massage his stiff arms, you two kiss a reddened wrist each, until Tom's breathing slows down and he can take deep breaths, instead of desperate pants.

He feels your combined kisses all over his skin, ramping up his desire again. Billy's lips as light as feathers, yours leave marks on his body, until you reach his cock, red and angry, to leisurely lick it.

Immediately, Tom's hips jump under your attention, his voice a rough whisper, desperate for release.

You kneel between his splayed legs, arse up in the air, wriggling it until Billy gets behind you and grabs your hips to stop your movements.

Shyly, as if this is his first time, Billy lays on you, asking for your consent with a breathless moan: he's so hard he's desperately trying to keep his needs under control.

He breaches you as soon as you whimper a breathy 'yes', slow and careful of his size his cockhead enters your wet cunt and you moan, grabbing Tom's cock in a sure hold that has him kick under you.

You need Billy to fuck you faster and it translates in the way you lick and kiss his cock, lips already around his weeping head to suck him in your willing mouth. Under you, Tom pumps his hips following your fast tempo, groaning at your warmth and the way Billy's thrusts make you impale yourself on his cock.

Your body is the raging inferno consuming them both. Your cunt sucks Billy in the same way your mouth does Tom's cock, hungry you try to take more of them, feeling the orgasm unfurl inside of you as Tom's hand grabs your hair to push hard and fast inside your mouth, your groans spurring him on to fuck you, to take his pleasure, untill the band in his tummy breaks and his thick cum floods your mouth.

Hungry you try to swallow and lick all you can, but you're in no control of your body: the devious way your pussy curls around Billy makes him lose control and fuck you fast and hard, moving your willing body up, over Tom's spent one, one hand losing hold of your hip to find your clit to play with it, quick movements that have you shudder around him, feeling your own pleasure close, oh so close!

You scream when you come and Billy follows you into the darkness of his own pleasure, his body falling over yours in a panting mess of sweat and kisses.

You're not sure for how long you three lay huddled into one another; under your body you feel Tom nuzzle your neck, Billy is curled against your side, caressing all the places this hands curled too tight, apologetic of his own passion.

"I never realized it hurt you. You were both unbothered about it." Tom says with such sincerity in his voice that your heart hurts.

"Not unbothered." Billy says. "Simply frustrated about it."

You turn your head to look at sweet Billy, whose brow isn't scrunched anymore, yet his eyes carry the phantom of that pain.

"It will not happen again."

This is Tom saying he's sorry. You don't think you've ever heard him say the actual phrase: you have to make do.

"Will you try to help me at home? Having to wrangle everything by myself is as frustrating as you flirting like it's your actual job!"

"I didn't think you needed help with that! You do everything in the house!"

"Because I have little to no help! From you mostly!"

"Why didn't you ask?"

If you weren't so sexually satisfied, you'd punch him in the face!

"Do you really need to ask when there's so many chores to carry out at home? Can't you see dirty dishes or the pile of laundry that needs to be sorted?"

"My sister used to do everything at home for me and dad."

You're going to punch him, it's inevitable when you feel your arm raise up on its own; it's Billy's hand grabbing your fist to kiss your knuckles that stops you.

"We'll help more." Billy tells you with a soft smile. "Right, Tom?"

Tom doesn't look too convinced: if he has to be honest, he knows next to nothing about housekeeping and it's not something a man should spend his time doing.

"I'll give you an incentive, Tom." You say, sweetly. "Either you help me, or you'll find out how uncomfortable the bed in the guest room is."

"I already know! You exiled the two of us there!"

You bark a laugh in his face.

"And it was for a couple of days!" You say.

"It was a week." Billy pouts, adorably.

"Imagine sleep there, alone, for however long I deem necessary."

"You wouldn't."

You stare at Tom who is looking with an incredulous expression on his handsome face.

"Wanna bet on that?"

You can see the gears turning into Tom's head: you are both stubborn as mules. You're capable of barring him from touching you for months and Tom isn't sure he can live without you.

"No." He huffs, letting his head hit the pillows. "But I can't promise results!"

Billy surprises the two of you when he pops his head on his hand, to look better at Tom, and says, blushing furiously.

"You can always find yourself in this position again."

"Then." Tom stretches under your weight. "I'll make sure to carry out the worst work possible."

Ewanverse taglist: @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @zaldritzosrose

[bit-odd-innit]

Fic: Somewhere That’s Green

[based on a post I made about Eddie’s future]

It’s a hole in the wall just off the main drag, the kind of place you can’t find unless you know to look. In a previous life it had been a pizzeria, which explained the bright green vinyl awning Eddie had no intention of replacing. He’d kept the pick-up window, too, used it to host “office hours.” (“Office hours” was supposed to mean “deliver personalized music recommendations to interested passers-by.” Now it means “help harried, double-parked parents reschedule music lessons.”) 

He’d also kept the apartment upstairs. They have a house now—a nice one, with a wrap-around porch and a big backyard and a cluster of hedges Steve always insists are “a mess”—but when Eddie trips into an inventory hole and loses track of time, it’s nice to have a place to crash. If it’s not a school night sometimes Steve joins him, and they’ll relive the halcyon days of their early twenties, buoyed by cheap beer, diner curly fries, and giddy infatuation. (The infatuation has only grown and flourished even as his tolerance for salty food has withered. Acid reflux is a bitch.)

He’s happy they kept the apartment. He happy knowing that if someone needs it—someone scared, broke, desperate for a lifeline and a scrap of no-strings-attached kindness—it’s something he can provide. 

Initial plans had been to focus on music, just music. It was supposed to be the utopic all-metal record store of Eddie’s nightmares.  But as he started to build stock, he remembered how hard it had been to find merch for the things he liked. How a pin or a patch or poster he’d dug up at a garage sale four towns over made him feel more seen than anything on offer at the local mini-mall. How he wanted to be a hub for the weird shit not everyone liked, but the people who did loved. His horrible little magpie brain fluttered from shiny thing to shiny thing, and by the time opening day rolled around the store was a one-stop shop for all things music, merch and whatever wacky knick-knacks tickled Eddie’s fancy. Or horrified Steve. Or both. Both was best.

The Corroded Coffin guys slotted in easily. Francis always liked doing promo for their gigs, was good at it, too. But by the early 2000s, his methods were apparently so outdated his daughter begged to let her take over. (“He’s stapling fliers to telephone poles, Uncle Eddie. You don’t even have a website.”  

“What is a telephone pole covered in fliers if not the working man’s web-ed site?”

“Oh my God give me your credit card I’m buying you a domain name.”

“A what?”)

Jeff got his CPA and took over the financials, reeling Eddie in whenever he was struck by the urge to make a impulsive, outlandish purchase. (“I genuinely don’t understand how you make money.” 

“It’s cause I don’t do my taxes.”

“I do your taxes. At a great personal expense.”) 

Gareth was instrumental (heh…) in building up the music program—soundproofing the basement and hiring instructors and coordinating concerts and organizing payment plans, all the nitty-gritty non-music stuff that made Eddie’s head spin. At some point it just made the most sense for Eddie to cede control, let him operate it however he saw fit. (“This is your baby, dude. It’s a baby that took form within my own, much larger baby. But it’s yours.”

“I’m touched by your words and appalled by your phrasing.”

“That’s the only way I could have said it.”) 

(Gareth also once described the store as an “Elevated Hot Topic.” Eddie still hasn’t decided when he’s going to kick his ass.)


Momentum grew. Ideas compounded ideas. A kid asked how to sew a patch to his backpack and it snowballed into the Build Your Own Battlevest Workshop. Wayne suggested knocking out the connecting wall between the walk-in freezer and the pantry, and now thrice weekly Eddie runs table-top games for varying age-sets and skill-levels. (At Steve’s request, the elementary school group is called H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS FIRE CLUB. Not because he thinks it needs to be censored. He just thinks it’s funny.)  (He’s right.)

It was supposed to be a record store but now it’s so much more. Now there are listening parties and movie screenings and little league teams with his store’s name on the back of their jerseys and and and—

Eddie used to think, if he got lucky, he’d last a year. Now he’s closing in on 30. He was profiled by the local newspaper. They called him “a pillar of the community.”

Wild. 

It’s a warm, sunny April morning. He’s sitting at the takeout window, sipping coffee from the bottom half of a teapot-teacup combo that reads, in a menacing blood-red font, THIS FREAK DRINKS TEA. His hair is gathered in a loose braid, the ends still damp from his post-run shower. (Sometime in their mid-thirties Steve tricked him into maintaining a consistent cardio routine, and now he’s the type of person who gets out of bed at the crack of dawn to knock out an “easy three.” He’s a monster, a husk of his former self. A husk with a much-improved lung capacity and thighs that can juice a watermelon but nonetheless HUSK.) The middle school is about a half mile from the shop; he pulls faces at all the students filtering past. (Steve’s kids, current and former, refer to Eddie exclusively as Mr. Munson’s Husband. It never fails to thrill him.)

He’s leaning back to flip the record piping through the store’s speakers (“Dustin I don’t care if it’s ‘easier’ to ‘create a Spotify account,’ whatever that means. We play vinyl only! Let me be pretentious about this one thing!”) when he hears a meek, polite cough coming from just beneath the window. He peers out and on the sidewalk stands a girl. She’s small, too little to be one of Steve’s. She clutches the strap of her backpack, blue eyes huge with nerves and determination. 

“Hail and well met, weary traveler!” He’s speaking in what Steve calls his Dork Voice, the slightly tuned-down version he uses to put shy kids at ease. “How might I be of assistance?” The girl purses her lips, sets her shoulders, shakes her shaggy bangs out of her face. Eddie thinks suddenly of Nancy and Robin and his heart clenches.

“Do you like games?” She asks.

He smiles softly. Drops the act. “Yeah.” He rests his scarred cheek in the cradle of his palm. “I like games. Do you like games?”

The dam breaks.

“Yes!” She replies at once, breathless with enthusiasm. “My family plays a lot of board games, like Game of Life and Monopoly, and they’re okay but kind of boring, but my brother taught me how to play Settlers of Catan and I really liked that, and my friends and I played Werewolf at a sleepover but we made up a bunch of extra rules to make it harder, and my cousin showed me this video game where the ending changes based on what choices you make and that’s so cool—”

“Alright, slugger.” Eddie can’t help but laugh. “What game are you looking to play?”

The girl collects herself. “Okay,” she says. “Okay, so. So I like it in games where there are rules, but also you can make stuff up? And you can do something weird that might ruin everything but also might pay off? And sometimes you have to work with other people to accomplish your goal, but alliances can break?” Eddie nods. “So there’s this one game. It sounds like so much fun, but nobody I know plays it. They play it on this show I like, well, okay, it’s not really a show, it’s, uh, okay do you know what a podcast is?” Eddie beams.

Steve swapped study hall coverage so he could pop in for lunch. Tonight is parent-teacher conferences, which means Steve’ll be home late, which means Eddie will get absorbed in a project and either crash upstairs or stumble home well after Steve’s gone to bed, which means they’ve got to snatch the time together they can get. They split a sandwich, a salmon burger from Costco Eddie threw in the air fryer and smashed up with avocado and grilled poblano pepper. (”It’s heart healthy!” “You’re heart healthy.” “Aw.” “I meant that as an insult.” “I’m not taking it as one, mwah mwah mwah.”) Eddie eats too fast, as he often does, and drags his nails over the veins of Steve’s forearm to distract himself from his gastrointestinal tract turning inside out.

“🎶Myyyy babyyyy myyyyyy babyyyyyy,” he hums against the shell of Steve’s ear. “You’reeee my babyyyyy sayyyy it to meeeeee🎶.” “Alright,” he huffs, tapping his fingers to the knobby bone of Eddie’s wrist. He presses a kiss to the underside of Eddie’s jaw and rises. “I gotta get back.” He slings his messenger bag over his shoulder, gathers the papers he’d promised he’d grade but didn’t. Eddie watches him readjust, watches him smooth down the salt-and-pepper hairs dusting his temples, watches him push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He catches Eddie watching and asks, slyly, “What?”

Eddie wants to say, I love you. He wants to say, you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be. He wants to say, I’m so grateful I built this life with you. 

But he’s still himself, so what he says is, “Those khakis make your ass look great.”

Steve scoffs, and with a bitchy eye roll he sinks his weight onto his back foot and says, “I KNOW,” and there he is. There’s the man he married. He looks over his shoulder before he leaves, his honey-warm eyes liquifying Eddie’s spine.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “I love you too.” Eddie kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.  Pretty good life. 

[nothingxs]

FFXIV Write // Halcyon

“Stop right there!”

The young Miqo’te boy tucked the package under his arms as he ran down the Steps of Nald into the Steps of Thal, his feet moving as fast as they could to get him as clear of the Quicksand as possible, two burly men in Brass Blades uniform slowly gaining.

He looked right. Brass Blade, coming down the stairs. No good; wouldn’t be able to blow past him. His head swiveled forward. A couple of carts were bringing in tradecraft supplies and goods to the stalls. He weaved through the crowd, putting his shoulder as hard as his small frame could into the cart, a poorly-balanced crate toppling into the Sapphire Avenue and stymieing the Blades for enough moments to gain some distance.

A young Dunesfolk girl sat atop the outcropping behind the Aetheryte, looking at the chase unfold. With a grin, she hopped up, swishing her long black hair out of the way of her face, and waved the boy down. She pointed up the stairs with a laugh.

“Make a left!” came the instructions from the Lalafell as the boy cut as hard to the right as he could and ran up the stairs, three steps at a time in big hops, sliding as he got to the top and pivoting as hard left as he could.

Another Brass Blade, this one a massive Roegadyn man, had started to make the run from the passage from the Pearl Lane into the Gold Court and started to give chase as well; the boy’s turn had cut into his speed.

No matter—he moved as fast as he could and jumped up, quickly climbing up onto a stack of crates to his left, running and hopping across others in the path, onto staircases and then onto more crates. Sitting on the steps, a kid with scruffy black hair flopping around over his headband looked up and grinned as the Miqo’te sailed over him.

The Hyur kid stood up, waited until he could hear the pursuers’ footsteps, and shoved a large container forward and toppled it onto the ground, sending countless crystal beads scattering and rolling into path just as the Roegadyn man came.

The next sound was a “DAMNED—" cut short and a loud thud and crash as the Roegadyn slid forward. And the loud crunches and cracks of glass as the two earlier pursuers slowly tried to make their way around the mess on the ground.

The Miqo'te boy kept running, his lanky legs already carrying him down the path to the Miners’ Guild, where he took time to traipse around the corridors, weaving past workers and ducking past crates, looking every which way. Things seemed to be clear until he started hearing the loud commotion of footsteps coming from the Gold Court proper, and a simple loud order.

“FIND HIM!”

He kept running, leaping up some steps before turning right to head to the Coliseum, trying to mix in with a nearby group who were seemingly exploring. The group went down the stairs, and so did he, and as the family turned right towards the Gold Court, the boy pivoted left and ran into the area of the Coliseum. And with a quick dash, a shoulder went into the door of the Gladiator Guild.

He ran in and waved at the receptionist as she blinked at his entrance, and laughed. He went to the railing and slipped under it, landing between the stacks of equipment and the steps to the little practice pit. He sat down to gather himself, trying to catch his breath.

One of the gladiators, a middle-aged Hyur man who was sitting on the steps next to him, noticed him as he was trying to gulp down any air he could muster. He gave him a big, stupid grin.

“Causing trouble again?”

The boy took a few more heavy breaths before giving a little dismissive wave of the hand and a shake of the head.

“Nahhhhh.”

“Mhm.” The gladiator gave him a knowing smirk. “That right? Just runnin’ for fun, then?”

Almost as if on cue, the door to the Gladiators’ Guild swung open, and a helmeted woman looked inside, peering left and right for a few moments before giving an up-nod over to the Receptionist before looking around.

“Oi! Anyone come through here just now?”

The receptionist shrugged.

The gladiator shook his head and shrugged. “Ain’t had no one come through here.”

The woman cursed and bolted off as the door slowly swung closed behind her.

The boy exhaled out a held breath, coughing lightly.

“Riiight,” smirked the gladiator. “No trouble.”

“Not… even a little,” said the boy, finally catching up to his breathing.

He clambered to his feet, gave the gladiator a pat on the shoulder, and grinned. “Owe ya one.”

“Yeah? Th’ fuck are YOU gonna give me?”

The receptionist was trying her best to not break into a fit of giggles as the boy opened the door to the guild, peeked left and right, gave a little wave goodbye to the people inside and snuck off.

“…He’s going places, that Carran.” The receptionist smiled as she shook her head.

“Yeah.” The gladiator laughed before he focused back on the trainees in the pit. “Gaol.”

Carran had already made a hasty move out through the steps past the Coliseum, rushing past a few more corridors and up some steps to a twisting staircase, where an older boy in a tank top and slacks stopped him for a moment, throwing some robes over him before setting a bent, wide-brimmed, conical hat atop his head. He gave him a big pat on the back, nodding.

“I expect these back tonight.”

And the little fake thaumaturge hustled off with a small group of thaumaturges, headed out the Sultana’s Gate to get some live practice of their offensive magic against critters.

—

A bell or two later, as the thaumaturges continue to practice and talk, Carran is sat off to the side on a crate in the Scorpion Crossing, idly eating through an apple.

A gentleman in long robes, with a pointed, angular mask and a propensity for grinning approached him, his grin already near ear-to-ear.

“My dear friend! It would appear that YOU have made it here… on TIME, after all!” Words spoken in a strange, pitchy voice that could never settle on a proper pace, hitching in odd places.

Carran finished the last bite of his apple and tossed the core over to a refuse pile. He wiped his hands off on the robes before turning to look at him, grinning under the huge brim of the hat.

“Yeah. Sure have.” And from the sleeves of Carran’s loaned robe, he produced a small, thick red satchel. He offered it to the robed man, holding it up for him.

The robed man smiled in turn, taking the satchel in one hand, and opened it with the other. He rifled through the contents with a playful hum. He giggled an upsetting giggle, and his perhaps too-wide grin seemed to get wider. Carran’s ears flattened on his head.

“Yes. Yes! Perfect, my dear friend. Ab—solutely PERFECT! You have done me… a GREAT service! Indeed, indeed, indeed.” He reached to the massive sling bag held at his side, pulling it in front of himself, and as he deposited the satchel into it, he rifled through it. After a few moments, he let out a quick “a-HA!” and pulled from inside of it a small black box that barely fit in the long, lanky fingers of his hand.

“And I… promised you: THIS!”

He laid the box on the crate, then stepped back and did a flourish with his hand, bowing deeply. “Please, please! Inspect it, inspect it, and make SURE. That it… is to YOUR liking.”

Carran reached to the box, holding it for a few moments in his hands, and his eyebrows raised at how much heavier it was than it seemed. He pulled the top of the box off to reveal the contents: a vial rested on a plush bed of red velvet. He took the vial and lifted it above him to examine it. It was  filled with an odd, swirling and colorful liquid that seemed to glow strangely at certain angles and cast odd lights. He placed the vial back into the box, and the lid back onto it to close it before turning back to the robed man.

The man regarded him with a dangerous smile. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Well, WELL! What do you think? A fortune. A fortune. In a SINGLE bottle.” That giggle, again. “Aren’t you EXCITED?”

Carran forced himself to smile. “…Sure. Bet I’ll find a buyer for it in… no time, yeah? If this does what you say it does.”

His smile twisted into a terrible Cheshire grin.

“I am sure whoever drinks it will find whatever price is demanded well worth it.” Smooth, lucid, perfectly spoken.

Carran felt himself swallow right as his lips curled in an uneasy smile. A nervous chuckle escaped him, and he took the box, stuffed it under his friend’s robes, and nodded. “…You need anythin’ else, you—you let me know.” And with a quick hop off the crate, he hustled away, running back to join the other thaumaturge trainees as they got ready to return to the city.

—

She could not believe what she was seeing in the mirror the following morning.

“…Finally. It’s me.”

[k-zu]

魈 : scars ft. adeptus xiao

scars form such a unique composition of the skin, every laceration is particular, resulting in a sculpture that's distinctive and irreplaceable.

in times of halcyon, you'd managed to convince xiao to show you his scars, multiple scattered across his arms and torso, some almost faint enough that they began to blend in and fade away, as if the scars themselves were trying to hide too. you'd trace your fingers softly over them, creating patterns and shapes on his arms to connect the ends and beginnings.

they told a story so fascinating as if whispering directly in your ear all the secrets that make up the history of today's liyue and, at some extent, they do. though to you, his scars are more of an element of his body you're willing to show admiration for every single day, begrudgingly making him warm on the cheeks while he scolds you for being nonsensical. sometimes when you go off track, xiao feels dizzy at the moment you start glazing your fingers over the green markings on his shoulders. more often than not, he disappears with the wind and you can do nothing but chuckle.

under your sincere gaze, xiao feels small. as if learning how to walk, he begins to see life in a different lens; the lens of an artist, a lover, a human whose brief lifespan allows them to appreciate the tiniest things. he had never come so close to a mortal before, always scared of unconsciously bring them harm, however your ambition to stay by his side against all bad might make him a little soft, he might put down his walls only a little bit and let you peek over the top into all the mess of emotions that encompass his existence.

once again, in the comforting moments under the big night sky, he feels bare next to you, like he's laying down everything he is just for you to see, even if you're not looking at him directly and just gazing at the stars, he feels calm. for a minute, as ephemeral as it may be, he feels free.

[sealrock]

06. halcyon

no content warnings word count: 437 words

It's quiet—that's how it always starts in my dreams.

I'm small again, but I can't tell how old I am in this dream. I wear the same clothes whenever this happens, something loose and comfortable. My hair hangs down my neck, the wind blowing through my scalp. I hate wearing dresses. I hate having my hair combed.

I'm outside; it's warm and sunny, with big fluffy clouds rolling by. I hear birds and cicadas. The world is a lot bigger than usual. The grass blades whisper at my bare feet and tickle my ankles. I don't make a sound. The tree leaves sing as eastern winds blow through, growing louder the longer the breeze dances through the outskirts of the open field.

That's right. I'm in a field behind my house. My house would cast a long shadow over me. I can hear my dad ahead of me, telling me to come back home. He doesn't sound like himself. I can never get a good look at him, I'm too far away, so I don't know what he's doing, I just keep moving. I never knew why I would come out of the treeline. Sometimes I'm carrying a stick… More like a twig, but I'm clutching onto it so hard I can feel every etch of the bark digging into my palms. I could find some neat stuff in the forest.

There's a bunch of white clovers here, they reminded me of tiny bundles of cotton. They felt really soft and kind of mushy in my hands. I used to love picking at them every springtime. They bled something white and sticky that tasted bad. My dad taught me how to cook them, but they still didn't taste that great.

I don't see my mom or Achille, but I always felt they were there, watching me with my dad. Something compels me to run, but I can never get close enough. It's like I'm running in place. My house is right there, it's a lot bigger than I remember it being. The sun sits on top of the roof, blinding me so I couldn't look directly at my parents.

And then I wake up. I'm not in my backyard in the Shroud anymore, I'm stuck in the hellhole that is Ul'dah. I don't want to wake up, I want to go back to sleep and dream.

I learned a new word recently: "halcyon." It means a peaceful time, the golden days… Yeah, the golden days of my bygone youth, or whatever shite the adults moan about.

I can never go back to that time.

I hate it.

[orime-stories]

Day 9 - Lend an Ear

"Nali! Hey!" Wuk Lamat called after her as she made to storm off.

"Don't call me that," T'nali snapped as she continued stomping her way down the street. People she was pissed off with didn't get to drop her clan name.

"What, your name? What else should I call you? Bonehead? Get your butt back here."

She wasn't responding to that.

"Nali wait." Wuk Lamat jogged to catch up to her, easily matching her stride with her stupid big Hrothgar legs. T'nali wondered if there was even a point to breaking out into a run. She was trying to have a tantrum here.

"Hey," Wuk Lamat continued, uncaring, "I don't always understand what things get you angry, but I'd like to. And if you're not gonna talk to me when you're angry, then we need to do something fun first to calm things back down a little, right?"

"Not interested."

"Have you ever climbed to the top of Hunu'iliy? The big lighthouse?"

A single ear swivelled back to listen.

"It's a good workout! And the view from the top…" Lamat'yi let out a blissful sigh. "Dangerous though." And then with a grin T'nali could hear. "But I think you could take it."

Well. That changed things, didn't it?

For the Final Fantasy XIV Writing Challenge 2024

Other Entries: Steer / Horizon / Tempest / Reticent / Stamp / Halcyon / Morsel / Lend an Ear

[kimium]

My friend @m34gs asked me in her reply to my ask (this post) about what my Top Five Favourite Link Click moments are. I decided to answer in my own post though I recommend you read my friend's answers too! Just be wary of spoilers for both her answers and mine!

Anyways, here are my Top Five Favourite Moments in Link Click. I'm listing them in order with one being my most favourite moment. I'll also not include the OP or ED in this list. Just know that VORTEX slaps and is one of my favourite OPs of all time.

5. Li Tianchen discovering his neighbour was one of the gossipers regarding his mother and father's marriage

First, the visual set up of the scene is utterly beautiful. The saturated colours in the evening sky, the mostly flat colours on the characters with only dark shadows and white highlights, and the obscuring of the photo. All these elements help build and add to the slow suspense building in the background.

I am also in love with the framing of the reveal. I adore how the audience doesn't see the photo as Li Tianchen looks at it. All we see is his reaction: how mostly silent contemplation morphs into despair, sorrow, anger, frustration, etc. His twisted laughter is utterly heartbreaking and horrific. Allowing the audience wallow in it for just a few moments before showing the photo was a brilliant move on the creative team's part.

Next, we have the music that gradually swells as Li Tianchen's world view is completely shattered with the reveal of the photo. It's a score that perfectly encapsulates the inner turmoil of Li Tianchen as he's pushed to his breaking point and makes the choice that ultimately secures his destiny.

All these elements make for a scene that's so potent and visceral that it permanently lives rent free in my mind.

4. When Li Tianxi and Li Tianchen's running is paralleled at the end of S2

This is another scene that I adore due to the visual elements and symbolism. If there is one element in story telling that I'm weak for it's parallels between characters. In this case, it's the parallels with Li Tianxi and Li Tianchen running away.

My heart utterly aches at how in this scene it's clear they're still the suffering, scared little children we met when Cheng Xiaoshi dove into the photo. All the layers around them break down and we see their core as they run. Li Tianxi runs because she's scared and saddened by her brother's actions in regards to Chen Bin. Li Tianchen runs because his entire world has once again shattered before his eyes. The sister he loved and vowed to his mother he'd protect is dead.

Watching both of them running away crying breaks my heart every time I watch the scene. How I long for both of them to return to their halcyon days where their parents were alive and there was no sorrow in their family.

3. Cheng Xiaoshi's plan to trap Liu Min in the dark room is executed

Time for a bit more of an uplifting scene: Cheng Xiaoshi luring and beating up Liu Min in the darkroom! This scene is so cathartic to watch as the boys finally give Liu Min what he had coming: justice. It's even better when they're using their abilities (time travel) to keep the upper hand while confusing the hell out of Liu Min (and Li Tianchen). It's also a well thought out plan with more than just "use my ability to win". I loved the subtle psychological game played with the photos in the dark room too.

2. Cheng Xiaoshi on the receiving end of his Dumbass Nature

Just like my friend, this scene is in second place. It's too good to not mention! Nothing is funnier than witnessing Cheng Xiaoshi go "Look at me for doing a good job and saving Lu Guang... oh no who is that dumb ass and what is he doing?" only to go a second later "WAIT. That's ME. I'm the dumb ass!!!" Cheng Xiaoshi finally got a taste of what Lu Guang has dealt with for majority of the series and the expression he makes is priceless.

The big reveal at the end of S2

Honourable mentions: Li Tianchen revealing he was impersonating his sister, Cheng Xiaoshi as Doudou uppercuts the woman who kidnapped him, and Xiao Li every time he's exhausted because "I guess time travel exists".

Before this reveal I was already extremely invested in Link Click. I love time travel and watching series explore the concept. What do I love just as much as time travel? Time Loops. I eat that concept up all the time.

So, watching the end scene slowly pan out to Lu Guang's perspective and reveal to the audience that yes, this has a time loop made me want to scream aloud. It's even better because this time loop is a Tragic Doomed Gay People one. When a time loop is all about saving the ones you love, that makes it even better.

However, what truly solidified this scene in my brain were all the little clues leading up to it. First, and most obvious, was the password on Lu Guang's phone that Cheng Xiaoshi put in to unlock it. The reference to the time on Lu Guang's phone before he time travelled to save Cheng Xiaoshi (again??) is amazing.

But, that's not the end of it. Oh no, it's the fact that I read a meta post about how the photo in the hospital was not meant for Cheng Xiaoshi from the start. The breakdown of evidence pointing out that 1) Lu Guang hid the phone in an obscure place, clearly not wanting ANYONE to find it and 2) That he doesn't know Cheng Xiaoshi knows his password really hit me hard. The level of detail and attention put in this series is truly amazing. Realizing the seeds of foreshadowing were present the entire time makes me want to not only rewatch the series but also show it to all my friends.

And there you go! I hope you like my top five favourite scenes in Link Click, friend! Let me know what you think!

[revasserium]

fear every raindrop

sasuke; 837 words; fluff and angst but mostly just atmospheric-ness. for @dira333

sasuke has always loved the rain; it has always spoken to him in ways the cloudless blues of a sunstruck sky could never (but he’s certain naruto could have). he has always understood the thick rumble of a horizon line jagged with thunder; he has always appreciated the deep sorrow of each tiny raindrop, which together can form a torrent so large it has the power to drown out a whole village. because he understands sorrow — if nothing else.

and his whole life has been loss, hasn’t it? a constant and immutable stream of losing, of waking each morning wondering what else the world will take today, and going to sleep each night knowing the answer is — always more than you think.

he meets you on a rainy day.

outside a way station, beside a dirt road that seems to run parallel to the turning world, he catches you falling — actually falling, slipping on a patch of mud. his single arm bars across your chest, knocking the wind from you even as you wheeze, your nose nearly catching the drenched earth beneath you.

“careful,” he says, his voice soft as he helps you straighten again. and one glance at you tells him that you’re the furthest thing from a ninja a person could be: innocent. it shines through you like a beacon, beckons to him like a lighthouse on a deserted shore and he finds himself irrevocably drawn to you — a magnet to his compass rose, the moon’s pull to the tide’s endless flow.

“th-thanks! sorry…” you laugh, ducking your head into a short, awkward sort of bow as you straighten to peer up at him through your rain-slicked bangs. he fights the urge to look away.

“are you…”

sasuke bites back a wince for the words he knows will come, the curiosity, the realization, and then — inevitably — the accusation. he braces for it.

and…

“are you hungry?”

sasuke blinks.

you’re grinning up at him, not a single thread of apprehension in sight as you lace your fingers behind your back and motion towards the thin strip of forest path.

“my family owns a ramen place in the town just over this hill — i was running an errand, but i got caught in the rain — thank god you were here to save me!” your smile is bright, so bright and defiantly so against the gloom of the weather above you. the rain has yet to abate but sasuke thinks that he doesn’t mind. your smile is more than enough to shelter him from the storm.

“ah…” he doesn’t know what to say, because no one had ever trained him for this, not in the delicate dance of propriety, not in the precarious balance between casual jest and incrimination. he finds that he has no tools in his arsenal for this, but then —

“c’mon, my treat. it’s the least i can do for my savior!”

savior.

he savors that word, basks in the halcyon glow of his warmth, wishes he could sink his fingers into the heart of its brightness, tip it back into his mouth and swallow it whole. he wishes it was something that, someday, he might be truly deemed to be.

it is not as good as irchiraku’s. but then again, very few things are. though, you make up for it in your animated ramblings, in the way you introduce him to the sweet-faced woman behind the counter as you brush through the doorway of the tiny ramen shop, in the way you crouch down to scritch a fat orange cat behind the ears, stepping aside so he can offer his own hand for the cat to sniff and inspect.

the fat, orange cat levels him with a severe sort of gaze before it slumps back down and opens his mouth his great, big yawn.

“i think he likes you!”

sasuke can only nod, shaking his bangs out to cover his eyes, hiding behind that one last bastion of darkness as you lead him to a back table.

it is not as good as ichiraku’s… but he finds himself hesitant to leave all the same.

outside, the storm still brews, thick and angry just beyond the tops of those faraway trees.

“you should stay till the storm blows out — it’s dangerous to go wandering in this weather!”

sasuke almost laughs, because when was the last time someone had ever put him and danger in the same sentence without the implied causation? when was the last time someone had warned him of the danger, instead of warning of the danger of him?

he drinks his soup slowly, polishing off whole bowl with a soft exhale.

the sweet-faced woman smiles wide as she peers into his empty bowl.

“would you like seconds?”

sasuke sets down his chopsticks.

“please.”

it’s not as good as ichiraku’s but… it’s still the best ramen he’s had in years.

[shewasverynice]

Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Non-Consensual Drug Use

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Characters, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Hero Public Safety Commission, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

꒰ Elementia - Part 3 (NSFW) ꒱

Hawks was parked in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of his black t-shirt, then adjusting his khaki pants. Casual but cool—that was the vibe. As he looked at the bottles of cologne scattered on the counter, he frowned, unsure which one to choose. Sure, Halcyon hadn’t exactly agreed to go out with him yet, but maybe if he just showed up and asked again, she'd say yes.

He grabbed his phone and dialed Kiwi’s number, running a comb through his hair as it rang. When Kiwi picked up, her voice was as bright and playful as ever.

"Oi! What’s up, hot bird?"

Hawks grinned, feeling that familiar nervous flutter in his stomach. "Hey, Kiwi. What kind of cologne does Halcyon like?" He asked then chuckled, "You know, if a guy was, uh, trying to impress her?"

There was a brief pause before Kiwi erupted into laughter. Hawks chuckled along again, even though his nerves were kicking in.

"Hang on," Kiwi said, and he could hear her muffling the phone, "Oi, Hally, what kinda cologne you like on a guy?"

In the background, he heard Halcyon scoff and laugh, her voice getting closer as she snatched the phone. "Don’t wear any," she teased. Then, with a playful edge, she added, "You don’t need it."

The line went dead. Hawks stood there for a moment, his head tipping back toward the ceiling with his hand over his eyes and a big goofy grin spreading across his face. His heart raced with excitement, and for a moment, he just basked in the feeling.

After finishing, he made his way to Halcyon’s door. His wings fluttered nervously behind him as he knocked with the back of his knuckles. When the door swung open, he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips. She stood there in a flowy top and tight shorts, looking stunning. The little star-shaped earrings dangling from her ears caught his eye, and he reached out to touch one lightly.

"You look absolutely adorable," he said with a grin.

She huffed, crossing her arms and said, "I wasn’t going for cute."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a teasing rasp right in her ear, "If you’d rather hear my real thoughts, I’d be glad to share."

She shoved him playfully, her cheeks flushed as she sprinted for the stairs. "Shut up, birdbrain!"

Laughing, Hawks spread his wings and swooped down ahead of her, landing gracefully at the bottom of the stairs just in time for her to run straight into him. They both stumbled a little, still laughing as they hurried outside.

"So," Halcyon asked as they stepped into the cool evening air, "where are we going?"

Hawks shrugged, grinning, "Wherever you wanna go. As long as it’s with you, I’m good."

She smirked at him, rolling her eyes, but he caught the small genuine smile she tried to hide. They walked together, already throwing out ideas about where to go, the excitement buzzing between them. Tonight was going to be something special—Hawks could feel it.

As the two of them strolled through the city, the night unfolded like a dream. The streets were alive with lights and sounds, but all he could focus on was her—every laugh, every sideways glance, and every flicker of her eyelashes felt like it was meant for him alone. The air seemed lighter, colors more vivid, and even though the distant hum of the nightlife surrounded them, it felt like there was an invisible soundtrack playing just for the two of them. He swore he could hear music even in the quiet, a melody that seemed to float between them as they walked hand in hand.

They wandered from place to place, neither one settling right away, but neither in a rush. Hawks let himself get lost in the moment. His wings twitched with excitement every time she made a face, every time she said something sassy, and every time her fingers brushed against his. There was something electric in the air between them, a kind of unspoken bond that had never felt this strong before.

After a while, Halcyon stopped in front of a club, her eyes gleaming with playful defiance. "Screw it, let’s just go in this one," she declared, giving his hand a firm tug.

Hawks didn’t resist—he had no intention of letting go. He intertwined his fingers with hers, savoring the small victory as they walked in together. Inside, the atmosphere was buzzing with energy—dim lights, vibrant neon signs flashing above the bar, and music thumping through the air. It was chaotic but somehow intimate in its own way, and he couldn’t help but grin. This felt perfect.

Halcyon led the way, weaving through the crowd with ease as Hawks trailed just behind her, his eyes never leaving her. She slid up to the bar, squeezing in between a couple of patrons, her slight frame trying to get the bartender's attention. Hawks stood back, watching her from a few feet away, admiring the way she climbed up a little on her toes to stand taller, leaning over the counter as she waved to catch the bartender’s eye. She looked so effortlessly cool, so sure of herself.

He felt his heart skip as he watched her, the way her hair caught the light, the playful curve of her lips when she finally got the bartender to notice her. Hawks couldn’t help but smile, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. Every little thing she did felt like it was in slow motion, just for him to see.

Finally, she turned around with two drinks in her hands, her eyes locking with his as she handed one to him. Her fingers brushed his as she passed it over, sending a spark up his arm. She grinned at him, leaning casually against the bar. "You better enjoy that. I don’t do this often," she teased.

Hawks raised his glass, the music and chatter around them fading into the background. "Oh, trust me," he said, his voice low and teasing, "I’m enjoying everything about this."

She rolled her eyes at him, but there was no denying the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. They clinked their glasses together, and for a moment it was just the two of them in the crowded room, their little bubble of light and warmth keeping the rest of the world at bay.

As they sipped their drinks, Halcyon leaned in a little closer, her voice soft beneath the heavy beat of the music. "You think anyone’s watching us?" She asked, then nudged him a little, "Our ship might get stronger if they see us together."

Hawks smirked, taking a slow sip before answering, "Nah. Even if it does, I wouldn’t care."

She raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye, "That so?"

He stepped closer, his wings flexing slightly behind him, giving him an almost predatory grace as he leaned in just enough for her to feel his presence. "When I’m with you, nothing else matters," he said confidently.

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile fading into something softer, more real. And for once, there wasn’t a retort on her lips, no teasing remark to dodge the intimacy in his words. Instead, she just looked at him—really looked at him—and something shifted between them.

The music swelled around them, the lights dimmed and brightened in rhythm, but it all felt like background noise now. All that mattered was the way her green eyes softened, the way her lips parted like she was about to say something, then thought better of it. Hawks reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second too long.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, the words almost getting lost in the music.

She hesitated for a split second before nodding, setting her drink down on the bar. Without another word, Hawks took her hand, leading her away from the crowded bar and into the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor. The music pulsed through their veins, and as they found their rhythm, it was like the rest of the world ceased to exist. He pulled her close, his hand resting gently on her lower back, and they moved together effortlessly, like they’d been doing this for years.

The rhythm of the music pounded through the club, its heavy bass seeming to sync with the rapid beat of Hawks' heart as he danced with Halcyon. She moved like she was weightless, twirling and swaying without a care, her body fluid and graceful as she danced to the beat. Her hair bounced lightly with her movements, catching the light as she spun, and Hawks couldn't take his eyes off her. Every time she turned toward him, her eyes sparkled with mischief, a challenge hidden in the curve of her lips.

He moved with her, his wings fluttering in sync with the beat, their movements like a dance of their own. His feathers caught the neon lights, flashing vibrant red in the dim room, adding to the surreal haze that was wrapping around him. They drank more, the warmth of alcohol buzzing pleasantly through his veins, loosening every thought in his mind. All he could focus on was her—how she danced, how she smiled at him, how every inch of her seemed to pull him in deeper.

They were closer now, their bodies swaying in perfect rhythm. Hawks could feel the heat radiating from her as she pressed against him, her back snug against his chest. Her scent, a mix of sweat and her natural sweetness filled his senses, and he felt dizzy with it like it was the only thing he could smell, the only thing grounding him. One of her arms reached back, her fingers tangling in his hair, sending a shiver down his spine. His breath hitched at the touch, the soft tug making his eyes flutter as he leaned into her, instinctively, helplessly.

His hands moved without thought, roaming her body, starting at her thighs before sliding up to her hips, his fingers squeezing gently as he felt the soft curves of her waist beneath his touch. Every inch of her felt perfect under his palms, and he couldn't stop himself from exploring, feeling her muscles tense and relax as they moved together. Her arms brushed against his, and when he felt the goosebumps rising on her skin, it sent a shock through his own body. He shuddered, pressing closer to her, lost in the sensation of being so close, of feeling every part of her against him.

She moved on him, grinding back into his hips, and he let out a quiet groan, feeling the friction shoot straight through his body. His lips hovered near her ear, and without thinking, he leaned down, his voice barely a whisper as he murmured, "You're driving me crazy." He wasn’t even sure if she could hear him over the music, but the way her fingers tugged harder in his hair made him think she did.

Her breath was heavy and he could feel the slight tremble in her body as she pressed even closer. His nose brushed against her wrist as her hand stayed tangled in his hair and he inhaled deeply, savoring her scent like it was the sweetest drug. His hands slid back up her waist, grazing the soft skin under her shirt as he tried to memorize the feeling of her warmth beneath his fingers.

Her body was fire against his, and he could barely breathe. His eyes fluttered shut, his mind swirling as her arm brushed against his, her touch setting every nerve in his body alight. His lips hovered over her neck, close enough to feel the heat of her skin but not touching, resisting the urge to close the distance.

Her fingers tightened in his hair again, and Hawks felt his knees weaken, a helpless moan escaping his lips. It was almost too much—the heat, the closeness, the smell of her skin and the heady scent of fresh sweat that mixed with it. Every second felt like he was teetering on the edge of something, a precipice he desperately wanted to fall over.

His hands moved, sliding up her waist and settling at her hips again, pulling her tighter against him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but react to her. The way she moved against him was driving him insane, his body responding to hers with an urgency he hadn't expected.

Her fingers tugged at his hair again, and he felt his entire body shudder in response. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing through his entire body. He was lost in her, completely, utterly lost, and he didn’t want to find his way back.

And then she smashed their mouths together. He hadn't even registered her turning around before he made a noise in his throat that he didn't even recognize. Both her hands fisted into his sweaty hair and he hauled her closer. They kissed so hard their teeth clicked, but he couldn't be stopped even to give even a fraction of a shit. His arm wrapped around her waist and the other around her shoulders.

Hawks was hard faster than he'd ever been in his life: Halcyon's hands, her smooth soft hands -- he wanted her so bad, needed her so desperately, horribly -- he missed the way she kissed even though they'd only shared a few; the fire in her eyes; the raw feeling of being wanted and wanting her too. He wanted to please her, make her understand that he would never leave if she let him stay. His left arm around her back was strong and hard against her and she didn't seem to mind.

“Come here,” Hawks muttered, hot, a growl in his voice, “Come here, c’mere…”

Hawks was barely aware of being pulled along a moment later, not that he cared. He'd follow her directly into a blazing building if that's what she wanted from him. Wait... He had done that before hadn't he? With Pheonix? Whatever. No time for that.

He was vaguely aware of entering the men's restroom, hearing garbled whistles and cheers as Halcyon shoved people out of the way to get him into the big stall at the end. He knew he had a big stupid grin but I mean... Who wouldn't? Right?

It was darker in there, the music muffled by the walls and the constant chatter of dudes coming in and out of the bathroom to piss. Not that that mattered to him either. Nothing mattered but her.

They couldn't get close enough, Halcyon making a hungry sound in her throat when she kissed him again. Hawks didn't know what he was allowed to touch but she certainly didn't hesitate to have her fingers plunged into his plumage. It made him crazy every time. Especially now.

“Keigo,” Halcyon rasped, quiet, into Hawks' mouth. Hawks felt his heart stop dead in his chest. “Keigo…”

“God,” Hawks managed, “Oh, Sera. God —“

“I was supposed to stay away —“

“Sera... Please...”

“... fuck.”

Halcyon stared at him with her eyes huge and damp at the edges, desperate, her mouth twisted and her fingers rubbing all over his wings. Everywhere she could reach, or at least it felt like it. He didn't care. He wanted so much more. More of everything she had to give. He wanted to drown.

“I was supposed to stay away,” she repeated, more to herself. Her eyes searched his face. “I told myself I would, I swore…”

“Don’t stay away,” Hawks whispered, desperate. “I can't stand it anymore. Please, baby. I swear to God, I’ll die — I’ll wither up without you —”

"Fuck," Halcyon hissed, suddenly feeling furious as she kissed him again, and again, and suddenly kissing her had become breathing to him. Hawks couldn't stop. He was sure he'd die if he tried.

Hawks popped the button on her shorts as he pulled them down her legs. Didn't even ask her, just going for it. He knelt down onto that shitty sticky bathroom floor, helping her step out of them while she balanced herself by holding onto the strong muscles of his wings.

"Get up here," he whispered, pushing at her hips as he kissed up her thighs, "C'mon, c'mere darlin'..."

“Keigo,” Halcyon huffed as she pulled at the shoulders of his shirt, trying to get him to stand.

Like hell he was gonna do that. No, he knew exactly what he wanted right then.

"C'mon baby... Lemme have it..." He whined, almost a shameless plea with his lips muffled on her inner thigh, "Please Hal... Please... Sit on my face, baby..."

He groaned, loudly and with a deep throaty chuckle as she reached down and dropped her panties too. One leg went up and over his shoulder while she balanced herself using his wings and pulled the other leg up onto the other shoulder.

He wished he could see her face. It was too dark to really get a good look at her, but he had no choice. Well he did have a choice, but really it was no time for choices. Maybe this was better this way anyway, because if he could see her too he'd probably bust before he even got one lick.

Hawks is a guy who has priorities, what can he say.

It was so hot so fast, Halcyon sitting on his face and with no other options about where to stick his tongue. He just got to it, reaching up with his hands under her ass to hold her up. A few feathers shot off, pressing up against her back just to make sure she was stable. He'd never want to drop her. He flattened his tongue, licking her in a long stripe. His eyes rolled back when her fingers gripped his feathers and her legs tensed on his shoulders.

"Keigo," Halcyon gasped. This was Hawks' favorite thing about doing this: well, no, he had a lot of favorite things about munching. But how wet they would get -- all over his chin, his mouth? Divine. Except this time it was Halcyon. This time it was HER and it was hotter than anything he'd ever had.

How was it possible for everything she did with him to be the hottest thing he'd ever had?

"Oh, fuck," she whined as his nose nudged against her clit. Hawks was drunk on the sounds, the sighs, the hitching, surprised gasps. She was wet enough by then that he could press his thumb inside to hold her open. So he did, licking around it and scraping his teeth, gentle of course, on her labia.

“Keigo!” Halcyon moaned, “Mmnn– aah –”

Hawks groaned into her pussy: those soft needy little noises, the hungry, hungry moans. Halcyon didn't know what to do with herself, grinding on him one second to get it harder or trying to pull away for less pressure. So Hawks went harder. He butted his nose against her clit again before nuzzling into it. He slipped his thumb further inside her, shifting it around to kiss at her entrance, all over that wet, hot, sensitive skin. Pressing his mouth over her.

Halcyon's voice got all high-pitched and overwhelmed, apparently finally deciding what she wanted. She grinded down on Hawks' face, and his cock throbbed. There it was. Hawks smacked her ass, rubbing his hands over her cheeks and squeezing hard. He heard a thunk, looking up to see her head dropped against the bathroom wall behind them.

“Fuck yeah,” Halcyon moaned, “Keigo, oh –fuck Keigo, Keigo–”

It was too fucking much. Hawks lapped at her hole again, slow, and fumbled to get a hand down his boxers and pants where his cock was making a break for it. Damn thing was gonna rocket off his body. He fisted his dick in his right hand and squeezed and it made him groan, and that made Halcyon groan. He moaned again when he started jerking himself off, patient and leisurely. Let it last, damn, just let it last.

Halcyon grinded down harder when Hawks pressed his thumb in deeper, deeper, swirling his tongue around it. He wanted to see her face so badly. Biting her cute pouty lips, her brow furrowed. Maybe her eyes were open? Could she see him? God, he hoped so.

Especially when he finally licked all the way inside her, pointing his tongue. She was so hot, so hot on the inside. So wet and tight. Hawks had to squeeze at the base of his dick so he wouldn't go off; the sounds Halcyon was making were so sinful, begging him for more.

Hawks pointed his tongue and licked and licked and nibbled at her, her labia and outer lips. His nose bumped her clit again and she literally squeaked out loud.

Hawks sucked a kiss at Halcyon's hole, next to his thumb, like he wanted to leave a hickey. Her voice hitched from somewhere deep in her chest, stuttering her breathing; she grabbed suddenly at his feathers for purchase, scrubbing her hands through them, moaning with her mouth hanging open.

“Fuck – fuck me,” Halcyon managed, “Harder –” whining around those hot noises, like she didn't know those words would drive Hawks out of his fucking mind.

Hawks stuck his tongue into her and rubbed his thumb on her clit, shaking his head like a damn dog. He'd never gotten so into this before, but fuck she was absolutely worth the effort. He wanted her to fucking scream for him.

“Fuck, mnnng, Keigo!” Halcyon's hole fluttered, tightening, and fluttered again. Her fingers dug into Hawks' scalp so hard it hurt, but the hurt just felt so fucking good. “Fuck, Fuck, ah,” she moaned, guttural, so fucking needy. “Keigo, please, please, please.”

Hawks was fucking his own fist, his hips shifting restlessly, sweating in his t-shirt. He wanted to cum with her. Wanted to feel it as soon as her sweet cunt clamped down on his tongue.

One downside was that he couldn't talk. "You close, darlin'?" he wanted to ask, real sweet, just to make Halcyon blush. "Am I gonna make you cum?" But he couldn't, so instead he pressed in deeper with his thumb inside Halcyon. Right where it counted, digging hard, maybe hurting a little, just a little, a sweet little bit – and Halcyon's hips stuttered, her thighs clamping hard around Hawks' face.

Hawks rubbed and rubbed in deep with that thumb and kept her wet, licking her wide open, pressing back with the muscle of his tongue every time Halcyon's muscles clenched up on the inside, around him. Prodding, shoving, stroking – rhythm. His jaw ached; it was fuckin’ wonderful. He did it again – what Halcyon clearly liked – burying his face there, sucking at her, rubbing how she wanted it, just this side of too much.

Halcyon made a noise like she was gonna die, and Hawks stopped jerking himself off entirely, grabbing her ass with his other hand, spreading her wide so he could finger her good and hard. He sucked her clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it. She was so wet for him. He fucked in deep with his fingers – feeling Halcyon cum from the inside. That was by far the best thing about this, number one, no contest. She tightened up and at the same time she gasped, and gasped, and cried out – long, high, meaning it, grinding against Hawks lips with so much greed it made Hawks' cock jerk, hands-free.

She was so loud, fucking hell, moaning that way, breathlessly, hot. Ah, ah, ah, again, and finally: “Keigo,” she whimpered, “Ohhh Keigo, oh God.”

Hawks rubbed at her inside until she was done fluttering and clenching up around him, until she was twisting, too stimulated, and finally squirming off his face, sweating, and breathing hard. Hawks jerked himself off, tight, fast, and Halcyon suddenly got with the program and got to her knees, patting up at his shoulders and slipping her arms under his pits to try to get him to stand.

“Come on, c’mon, I want it, I want it,” she panted, hotly, “I want it, stand up Birdy, yeah, yeah, Keigo, come on, yeah –”

"Fuck,” Hawks choked out, heartfelt and trembling as he stumbled to his feet with her help. His chest was heaving as he leaned against the cold tile wall, watching her stroke his cock, backlit by the shitty lighting. His wings were cramped against the walls, extended as far as they could and his legs flexed to keep him standing. It was incredible.

But then, it was nothing compared to when she sucked his cock into her mouth a half a second later, taking him down as far as she could. No one took him that deep before. No one let themselves get this sloppy and raw. He swore he could feel her smirking on his cock, curling her tongue around the head and leaving sloppy urgent kisses down his shaft and balls.

"O-Oh god," he moaned, completely unintentionally fisting his hands in her hair. She moaned right back, taking him deeper. The sound was muffled, but that didn't mean Hawks couldn't feel the vibrations all the way up to his belly. All ten of Hawks' fingers curled into her hair, mouth dropping open as he stared at her lips. They caught enough light here and there, so full and soft as they parted to swallow him down again and again. He moaned louder, his eyes fluttering shut and he realized he was pulling her hair again.

But, hell, she didn't say stop so he didn't. He tugged harder and her grip on his thighs tightened. He actually felt her throat swallow around the head of his cock. The constriction was so tight he thought he was dying.

A flush was rising high on his cheekbones. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat and the absolutely pornographic sounds Halcyon was making. Swallowing, sucking, humming. His hips bucked. She didn't fucking care that the bathroom was full of drunk assholes that could DEFINITELY hear them. That made his hips buck again, his cock throbbing in her mouth.

It's so hot, so wet, and her lips were so, so soft. She bobbed her head, the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat every single time. Halcyon took all of his cock all that she could and sucked, hard, as she pulled off.

He knew she was looking up at him, the light was enough that he knew she could see him above her. She took his cock in her hand and sucked gently at the tip, pressing her tongue all along the slit again and again.

“Oh God,” Hawks choked, enraptured. “Fuck, oh, fuck —“

And then Halcyon opened her mouth, jacking him off hard and tight. Her hand was slicked from spit and pre, and her tongue massaged just under the head right where it made his knees buckle. He was dumbstruck by his own orgasm, watching his cock jerk violently and shoot all over her tongue, her chin, her pretty lips. He yelped as it hit him, relentless, his hands twisting in her hair and his wings flapping hard involuntarily, hitting the walls and floor.

Halcyon took him down again, far as she could, and sucked gently. Hawks moaned weakly as he finished, his eyes rolling back in his head at the wet heat that enveloped him, like Halcyon wanted nothing less than every last drop he had to give. She took him all the way back down to Earth, licking until Hawks was gasping and backing away.

Hawks' chest was heaving. There was sweat cooling at the small of his back. “Damn, Sera,” he mumbled weakly. He unclenched his hands from her hair and fuzzily hoped that he hadn't hurt her.

Halcyon nuzzled her face into his pelvis, open-mouthed and panting too. She was dripping Hawks' cum everywhere. On the inside of his pants and all over his skin. He pet a hand through her hair, combing through it as they both caught their breath.

“You’re fuckin’ –” Hawks panted, “Fuck. Filthy. You’re fuckin’ filthy.”

He collapsed against the wall, watching her lazily as she stumbled to her feet and picked up her shorts and panties. She hiked them up quick before her trembling hands worked on his own pants, pulling them up just below his softening dick.

She elbowed him playfully and teased, “Outta breath, Birdy?”

“Thought I was gonna die," he chuckled, pulling up his pants over his ass and tucking away his cock before zipping back up.

“Good way to go, though," she teased, walking over to the sink to wash off her hands and face.

“Damn,” Hawks groaned, “Baby bird, you got no idea. You got no idea.”

A heavy kick thudded on the bathroom stall door and both of them jumped. Hawks hurriedly moved over to her, blocking her beneath his wing and wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Shit," he gritted, ushering her out as the onlookers cheered and cat-called them. As much as he enjoyed their congratulatory pats on the back, he knew they had to get the hell out of there. Some of them reached for her as they moved to the door, but he pulled her against his chest, his feathers rustling dangerously.

All the way out through the club they were met with stares and loud chatter. He could hear them whispering about him, hear his name on their lips and catch the barely concealed attempts to hide the photos taken on their phones.

Even still, all that mattered to him was her. He kept his wing over her to block her from view. He'd gladly take this hit for both of them. He'd gladly do it again too, even if she hadn't just sucked the soul out of him.

Back to Nest, he flew them up to the roof with her safely held against him. She'd offered to fly herself, but he was worried someone would see her transformation. Couldn't let that happen. That would let the cat out of the bag immediately. One quick sweet kiss goodnight, and she slipped out the front door of his penthouse towards her own room.

He stared at the door, long after she had left. This was gonna be trouble tomorrow. Big trouble.

"Fuck it," he mumbled, smirking to himself as he stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom.

⤶ Prev Main Next ↪

[kaneni09]

TLJ - HALCYON - TROS

I started this series back in February but never got round to posting them

One of my biggest gripes with the sequel trilogy was the set design & costuming and since I love fashion so much I decided I'd try conceptualising my own designs for the sequel characters based on new locations, starting with Rey.

Truthfully TFA Rey has a perfect design, there's nothing really to complain about.

One change I wanted to make to her character was where she came from, instead of Jakku being a desert planet I wanted it to follow the original concept of it being a swampy jungle planet ravaged by pollution.

So I tried to incorporate some green fabrics into her outfit to help her camouflage into the environment. I like the idea of her having a big scrap of green cloth that she repurposes as a cloak for scavenging, as well as tops and skirts when she's off duty.

The green also helps to differentiate her from her child self, showing that she's reaching a turning point in her life, and will soon move beyond Jakku.

Below is a moodboard of official Jakku concept art to showcase the vibes I'm going for.

Apologies for my terrible explaining skills  

[whispersafterdusk]

Halcyon

With sand beneath him, sun above him, and waves lapping at his toes, Roaring felt content. Or, as content as he could be, all things considered; he was technically taking a break - from both Scion duties (they may have disbanded but there was work to be done yet) as well as the myriad duties that came with heading this latest project of Tataru's - and knew it was only a matter of time before one of the mammet laborers or--

"Heeeey, there you are!"

Roaring sighed. Break time over.

He sat up and brushed sand from his arms, peering over a shoulder to see Broti heading toward him. Tataru had sent the man along to "help" Roaring Whisper but he suspected she was tired of having him underfoot; under the woman's tutelage the would-be merchant had started a proper, if small, trading depot. She was pleased with his performance overall but still couldn't stand how chatty he was, and kept shifting his responsibilities around to keep him from driving off customers or being taken advantage of by the more ruthless ones, and finally had sent him off with Roaring to handle the importing and exporting duties being set up here on this tiny island.

Why she'd wanted Roaring himself here he had yet to figure out but it had been nice to have a ship under him again, and the weather had been nothing but pleasant since they'd arrived a week ago.

(While he didn't think Tataru would go this far to force him to take a vacation, he did have his suspicions)

Broti marched up and flopped into the sand in Roaring's shadow, fanning himself with his overly large sun hat. "Pheeeeew. I think I prefer Ul'dah's heat to this humid mess but it's, um, it's a lot prettier here, you know? Could do without seafood all the time though. Once we're back home I...think I want a steak. A big one! The size of, of ME - with onions, and mushrooms on top!"

Personally Roaring enjoyed having the bounty of the ocean right here; it reminded him of the good times of his childhood -- family dinners when he hadn't been the hated son. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, right! Tataru sent another-- hey, what's that?" Broti interrupted himself, staring at a spot on Roaring's left shoulder.

Thoughts of happy suppers were replaced with the memory of burning, stinging - of skin pulling apart and hardening like stone, traces of light bleeding across his shoulder in a marbled pattern. He wrinkled his nose and reached to grab his discarded shirt and pull it on to hide the scarring.

"Did you get hit with some kind of lightning magic or, or something?" Broti went on.

"Tataru sent another what?" Roaring prompted instead.

"Uh...what did she... She- Ah! She sent another projection report and wants us to focus on 'exotic woods,' which I guess is just the trees here? They just look like trees to me so I'm not sure how exotic they are."

Roaring let out a hum to acknowledge him then pushed himself to his feet, further brushing off his short pants and sliding on the sandals he'd trudged out here in. "I'll find a place to start logging."

"All right! I'll go make sure the mammets clear an area to stack it in." Broti hopped up and looked out over the water. "Sure is nice and calm out here. Still too humid though, and still too much fish."

Shaking his head Roaring started to trudge back up the beach; he would need to change clothing and get his boots back on before he headed back out into the wilds. If memory served there was a dense thicket to the northwest of their main camp that may be suitable for some logging.

He heard the scattering of sand behind him and then a loud 'oof' as Broti tripped trying to catch up to him but didn't pause to check. If he got changed quickly and headed out immediately he could get to the thicket and back before the sun set.

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Wayward Waters Chapter 17

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Hello everyone! Chapter 17!

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

have fun reading!

and as always Reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there;

AO3 Wayward waters

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Having gotten whatever they needed half of the crew of the Halcyon followed us to the Call Of The Damned,  which looked as imposing as ever.

Boarding the ship I could see Ronan getting tackled by Shalimar,  who after a hug decided to throttle him.

Yeah not my problem, also probably deserved.

Ignoring that I went to the front of the ship, where Cassidy had stood after Grella first emerged from Graves keep.

Should I tell him about the encounter I had with her? 

And what she'd told me? 

Ultimately he probably already knew what Grella had told me so there wasn't really a point.

The only thing I noticed here was that they had a pretty short Bowsprit compared to every other one I'd seen but that was all.

“Do you like sitting at the front of the boat?”

Came it from Robin who had followed me, heaving himself up to sit next to me.

“Sort of, i just like knowing where we are going, last time i didn't pay attention and couldn't even tell anyone where i was supposed to go to”

Also I was now pretty sure the stupid mast had given me a concussion, though a bit late for that now.

“Right, that probably sucked, wait what did you tell them where you wanted to go then?”

I shrugged, moving both legs to face the ocean.

“Back to Kamerasca, i figured if i couldn't manage to get to wherever you are i could at least wait back home,  i mean better than nothing right?”

Robin nodded to that.

“That's true, but i was really worried, i saw how the mast fell on top of you, and then you just didn't resurface, and then Rikaad wanted to help the sailors and i had to cling to him so he wouldn't run out again”

He had by now drawn his knees up to his chest, hugging his legs.

“Well, it turned out alright in the end, though very chaotic,  i'm still not sure if that all was even real”

I moved to mess up his ginger hair and he stuck his tongue out at me.

“If you mean the Kraken at the weird island, I've seen that too! Though i do wonder how all those little fires are doing, i mean they just wanted to warn us”

“Eh, they're fire they probably went somewhere that's a lot more dry than the ocean, also the island is called Graves Keep”

Probably because of all the shipwrecks that they couldn't really get to on account of the aforementioned Kraken.

“Mhm, what do you think Naroa island is like? I mean it is a colony of Kamerasca, do you think it'll be like back home or different?”

Good question actually, I didn't know very much about it though.

“Well, no idea but I think a good few things will be like Kamerasca,  it WAS built by citizens and volunteers as far as i know,  So I guess at least the architecture will be similar? 

But it's also an island so they probably had to modify stuff as well and built a few things that probably don't exist in Kamerasca”

It would make sense if they had taken what they were familiar with and modified it to fit their needs in the new place.

“Well, they probably don't have a castle as big as back home! 

I know the island is twice as big as Kariba island at least but a castle would take up so much space!”

That was true.

“Yeah, though I'm sure they at least build the mayor some stupidly big mansion or something! You think we get to sleep in that?”

“Yeah! It's probably built right at the beach! Oh we could go collect more seashells! You already have some cool big ones! I want some too!”

We talked and talked about what we thought the place looked like, which drifted quite a bit towards the end of the day with more and more unreasonable or straight up impossible things.

At some point as the sun started setting someone threw a stick at me.

Well, ‘someone’ the only one that could manage to get a stick out here was Jamie, who indeed was cussing us out and telling us we were missing dinner.

So we went to get that, which at least did not feature hardtack nor soggy bread to my relief, and then got shooed into a cabin to go to sleep.

I could hear though that Akeem was telling Cassidy he didn't need a cabin and was fine staying outside and keeping an eye out.

The end of that eluded me as Robin asked what part of the cabin would be his.

We hadn't even seen it yet so we walked there and Robin ended up getting the window bed.

At least that way I didn't have to deal with the morning sun shining into my face the next day.

Instead I was woken up by someone kicking the door open and for a strange moment I thought I was back at the castle in Kamerasca and that Nea had once again no regard for doors.

But no it was just Jamie who told us to get the fuck up as Naroa island was apparently within sight already.

Huh, the Call Of The Damned was fast, very fast.

Though not really a surprise,  The ship was big and I wouldn't put it past Cassidy to know some water spirits or even wind spirits that would help him out.

Walking half asleep I suddenly realized I had not taken the medication Oakley gave me, despite it being back in my possessions.

Well, there were no nightmares for once,  but I had the strange feeling that Grella had something to do with it.

It was debatable if letting her poke around my mind was a good idea or not but as long as that was all she did i wouldn't complain.

Besides, I was the one who let her so it was nobody's fault but mine.

But the island we were heading to was indeed already in sight,  and as far as i could tell had a more longish shape.

But it was indeed at least twice as big as Kariba island,  if not a tiny bit bigger.

Though it was more sparsely built on with more space between buildings,  the number of inhabitants seemed to be about the same, if not less. 

“Huh, not long till we reach it, hey how many people do you think got scared when the Call Of The Damned was first sighted by them?”

Robin giggled at that.

“Well it IS a scary looking ship! And probably the biggest one ever!

Let's go look for Rikaad!”

With that he climbed up on a crate, trying to spot the dark haired king.

“Robin, behind you”

Rikaad was in the completely opposite direction from where the ginger was looking, and right behind him though not on the crate.

“Huh? Oh hey Rikaad!”

“Robin don't climb random crates you don't know what's in them,  or if the wood will hold you”

Robin blinked and looked down at the crate he was standing on,  jumping off at Rikaads words.

“Oh sorry, didn't know, but hey we are already close to the island! 

Are you excited? I am! What are you gonna do first?”

Rikaad let the ginger ramble to the end before answering.

“I do admit to being intrigued,  i have never been here before and i am not entirely sure what i will do first, i'm waiting for more information at the moment”

Ah so he'd wait till we were actually there to make a decision,  probably a smart move not to set on one path if something else might come up as more important.

“How long are we going to stay there? A day or two? Or longer?”

Rikaad watched as the island got closer and closer,  appearing bigger the nearer it got.

“We will see, depending on what has to be done we could stay for two days or an entire week”

Also true, who knew how good the current mayor had been with paperwork, hopefully at least better than the old king, 

though it WAS hard to top that chaos.

As if reading my mind,  which was strange to think that someone, something? 

No, someone, else had already done Robin spoke just that aloud.

“As long as it's not as bad as the stacks of paper back home it shouldn't take long right?”

Rikaad just nodded at that.

“Hopefully so, though i am sure someone that would neglect the official affairs that much would have been replaced pretty quickly,  after all Kamerasca does get quite a few goods from this place”

Oh yeah, trading island and all that, hopefully the people here would be a bit more open minded about halflings and nonhumans.

They definitely were not, which was made very clear shortly after we debarked from the giant vessel.

Some onlookers could be heard shouting insults,  though strangely enough most weren't even aimed at me.

They were aimed at Jamie, who was right next to the way taller Akeem.

Rikaad did tell them to stop, though I doubted anyone here actually recognized who he was and that he was the new king.

Then again he wore no crown, only had once or twice.

Someone threw a knife at them, shouting something that sounded like 'Stupid Zoa’ but I had no idea what that last word meant.

Before I could think to ask anyone, Akeem had left the convoy to the mayor's abode, grabbed the knife thrower and tossed them a good twenty feet into a little stream where they landed with a splash.

Someone else tried to stab him in retaliation but the short sword didn't even scratch him, he gripped it and squeezed, the metal bending under his fingers like crumpled paper.

After that he went to stand back next to Jamie, who was hunched over and kept close to Akeem.

Ronan himself was somewhat hiding his ears next to Shalimar and Cassidy, wearing a headband that I was pretty sure used to be clipped to Shalimar’s messy belt.

Since I was pretty much in the middle of the people walking I had not been largely noticed, though the next street was a good bit narrower and people were still looking.

No hiding there.

Suddenly a triangle-esque hat was planted on top of my head,  hiding the top of my ears.

Looking forward again i could see it was the chicken guy,  who was still covered in layers and layers of fabric,  one of which was wrapped around his head, 

still hiding nearly everything aside from a strand of very dry hair the color of sun bleached flaxen and eyes that had slitted pupils with a way to green iris and no sclera to speak of.

I stared perplexed at him, the skin around his eyes wrinkling for a moment before he put a very thin sliver of gray silk over them, thin enough to look out of but also not letting anyone else see what his eyes actually looked like.

Smart, he must have been through something like this before.

I quietly nodded at him, making a mental note to properly thank him later if I got the chance, and of course give the hat back.

Also up close like this it was impossible to ignore that he was even taller than Fable, nearly seven feet.

And still holding the chicken,  who seemed content to just be held at the moment.

It wasn't long that we reached a larger and mostly circular place with a floor out of tile shaped rocks.

There waited some dapper dressed guy on a small wooden platform, confusedly looking at the people in the convoy before seeing Rikaad and bowing down in front of him after a few seconds.

The man himself was rather unremarkable, with pretty average features aside from a nose that seemed to have been recently broken.

“A good day and welcome to Naroa sir Rikaad Drayton,  King of Kamerasca, i am the mayor of this beautiful colony”

At least after that the surrounding crowd finally shut up.

Rikaad stood upright in front of them,  seeming taller in stature than even the guy on the small platform.

Rikaad sure had a way to make even the tallest people seem small next to him.

Must be the confidence,  he had way more than i did, or anyone else i knew really.

Even the mayor shrunk back a little,  walking off the podium to meet at eye level.

Well, eye level was good, Rikaad was about an entire foot taller than the man with the broken nose.

The Mayor started rambling something about how well they were doing aside from the pirates, which we had already dealt with, well Grella had dealt with them, and the people of Naroa might not even know that they were gone yet.

Rikaad simply watched and listened as the mayor praised every square of the island, which to me came off as that the mayor just wanted to look good.

Well, he kept rambling until a blonde woman walked out of the crowd with quite a few parchments in her arms.

She looked oddly familiar as well, kind of like a paler and taller Shalimar, probably her mother, whatever she was doing here.

The mayor stocked in his weird ramblings and praising everything to angrily point at the woman, shouting.

“That's the woman that broke my nose! Guards! Get her!”

Before anyone could properly react Rikaad had told them to put their weapons away, taking the parchment that the woman held out to him.

He read aloud a list of offenses, quite heavy ones as well,  including trafficking, murder,  and things that made at least two people in the crowd throw up.

Rikaad then looked the mayor straight in the eyes,  his own as icy as they had been back in the snow.

“Did I miss anything? 

Or do you spare us the paperwork and plead guilty?”

The mayor had gone into a fight or flight stance, frozen for just a moment before rushing forward at Rikaad with a knife.

He didn't get far with that as his pants caught fire and he got attacked by an oversized chicken that apparently could breathe fire,  because why not.

Sad to say it wasn't even the strangest thing that had happened,  also Shalimars mother shooed the chicken off only to punch the guys nose again, yeah that would not heal correctly anytime ever.

Rikaad ordered some of the surrounding Guards to toss the,  now former, mayor into jail, leading the rest of the people that came here with him to the biggest building.

As expected it had been used as the living place of the mayor,  though not anymore now.

Rikaad told us to take a break and that he had to carefully plan what to do now, go over the information the woman, who was named Marianna, had given him.

Marianna herself walked up to Cassidy, socking him in the jaw before pulling the taller man closer to her and kissing him.

I politely looked elsewhere.

There was quite an evident semblance to Shalimar, and not just the appearance.

Since nobody would try anything dumb as long as we were here i decided to hand the hat back to the Chicken sailor,  and finally ask for his name.

Robin had immediately taken a liking to a dog that lived here,  playing with the curly tailed canine.

Yeah he was fine, now where did the chicken guy go?

Looking around my eyes fell on Akeem,  who after noticing silently pointed at a balcony door.

Since nothing was going on and my presence wasn't needed I went outside as well,  seeing the man in layers and layers of fabric lean on the balustrade.

How the fuck did he not get a heatstroke?

I carefully took the hat, which was a little too big,  off and handed it back to him.

“Uhm, thank you for the save there, I'm sure I would have gotten stuff thrown at me as well, what's your name? 

I don't think i heard anyone say it”

He put his hat back on, tilting his head.

“That's because i don't have one”

My brain buffered for a good moment or two,  how could one NOT have a name?

“What, wait what do people call you then? 

How can it be that you don't have a name?”

The man tilted his head to the other side.

“You better be careful when dealing with Fae and how they word things, if they ask you for your name you better not give it,  sometimes they even trick their own brethren to give up their name”

I HAD heard of Fae taking peoples names,  but that they did it to their own kin was new.

“Oh, well getting the name of a Fae cant be easy,  you must have been tricked badly huh?”

He took his hat off again, pulling an arm completely out of the fabrics he was covered in, revealing a pale,  four fingered hand that seemed strangely chitinous.

“Oh yeah my sister had a knack for getting what she wanted,  Did you know Elves aren't actually Fae? 

Fae are never so naturally human like, Elves however are”

I stared at him, at probably the only true Fae I'd ever see in my life.

“I always thought it strange that most depictions of Fae had some insect things about them or horns while Elves didn't,  but that's new information to me,  wait what are Elves then if they aren't Fae?”

He shrugged, gripping the balustrade with his chitinous segmented hand.

“Not sure, but Elves are not Fae,  though they might be a mix of human and Fae, or had been once upon a time when there was less hatred in the world”

If that was true then, then every Elf was also a bastard,  yeah no wonder they had obscured that so much that they themselves believed them to be Fae folk nowadays.

“Well i guess i don't really have anything to compare,  but what you are saying does make some sense”

Though Fae being more insect-like did make sense,  most of the depictions I had seen, while crude,  had featured things like bug wings or multiple arms. 

Elves had none of those.

Well, what the fuck where Elves then? A question for later.

Suddenly I remembered something I had heard snippets of in Kamerasca a good two years ago.

“Hey about the name thing, why don't you get a new one? 

I've heard of people changing their names,  most times after a divorce though but it's just some paperwork,  well at least it's possible in Kamerasca, no idea about the isles”

I was not sure at all how the isles worked, not to mention that each island could have its own laws and the like.

The Fae man chuckled at that.

“A new name eh? Not a bad idea, I should have thought of that myself!

Though there are many to choose from, i will give it thought, and if i can't find an island to do it you might see me in your Homeland sometime”

Yeah, though I wouldn't doubt that Cassidy would specifically make that a possibility even if just for one instance.

“Well good luck thinking of a new name, does your chicken at least have one? Or is the feathery fella also nameless?” 

He laughed and picked up the way larger than average rooster with brown, orange and black feathers.

“This guy? Technically he's a Basan,  but yeah they look like chickens, eh bird either way,  his name is Basha because he used to Bash his head against me”

The Basan made some very chicken-like sounds,  bonking his head against the Fae man.

“There really are just things that look like other normal things but just aren't huh?”

“Well that entirely depends on what you define as normal,  your normal might be quite unusual for someone else”

That he was right in, especially in my case as the only other living Ardua had rejected to wear the bracelet, leaving it in Oakleys care.

“Yeah, you're right, also does sunlight hurt you like some Fae stories say? You are quite covered up, uh sorry if that's rude to ask”

He chuckled again, shaking his head.

“Curious huh? Well i can't blame you,  but the main reason im covered like this is that im ugly”

I stared at him, that being the LAST answer I had expected.

“Wh- what? That's a joke right? I know that big insect like things can freak people out but im sure its not that bad”

He full on laughed at that.

“Boy it's not because of me being an insectoid,  well i guess the mandibles would freak a good bit of people out,  but quite frankly, Nobody wants to see a mutilated man run around and showing off all his scars and stumps”

To emphasize he held out a second left arm right under the first, 

but the second one ended in a horribly scarred stump somewhere in the middle of elbow and where the wrist should be, the rest of the arm also adorned in strange silvery scars that had a slight bluish tint.

I stared at it confusedly for a second, so what? 

“So? If people don't want to see that they can look somewhere else, like, don't go out into the public if you don't like seeing people being people, also i don't think anyone seeing that would think you did that on purpose”

Now it was his turn to stare confusedly at me with his sclera less way too green eyes.

“I just mean, a lot of people have scars, i have some too,  namely on my back and shoulder, and one time some guy stole one of my kidneys so there's that one too, i don't think that scars necessarily make someone ugly or less of a person,  it just- it just shows you've lived”

He tilted his head,  at an angle that would probably have broken my neck if I tried it.

“It does sound like an age-old struggle of simply being deemed ‘other’,  I feel that you relate well to it,  even if your struggle with being ‘other’ has been different.

I suppose listening to those deemed ‘others’ would show things about myself I was not aware of, or would never be.

Also someone stole your kidney? How does that happen?”

Huh, yeah it was probably no matter what kind of ‘other’ one was,  they would find the same or similar reasons to shut those ‘other’ out any way possible.

Also of course he had to ask about the kidney thing.

“Yeah, some wannabe alchemist got it,  though i punched his face before he got anything else, i actually have no idea what happened to the guy, maybe he poisoned himself”

It was likely, that or someone else lynched him considering he'd been quite an asshole and did say something about testing on pets.

“Well, it looks like we both survive when we have to”

The Fae man stared out at the ocean,  gently scratching his chicken’s err, Basan's Head.

Then he ripped the cloth covering the bottom half of his face down, revealing what was indeed mandibles,  though more thin and boney and halfway folded into his maw.

One of his cheeks had a hole that was held shut by stitches and the other half of his face looked like someone had held a burning hot horseshoe against it.

Wait, iron, that was an iron burn, ouch, Fae did NOT take well to iron.

Aside from that there was a long and jagged scar going down the side of his nose, having blinded one of the secondary eyes under his normal ones, both of which were sewed shut like the hole in his cheek.

That man had been tortured,  There was no other reason for things to look like that as even multiple accidents wouldn't cause an iron burn this deep.

“I said i was ugly”

“What? No i'm just-i've never actually seen a Fae before, you weren't joking about the mandibles huh? Though i didn't think they'd be so thin”

He smiled, his face twisting weirdly around the scar tissue.

“Oh i suppose one would expect something more spider like,  however Spiders are arachnids and not insects,  ticks are also arachnids, but yeah i can move them individually”

To prove it he stuck one out and ‘waved’ with it,  then doing the same with another one.

“Wait, how do you eat with those? 

Don't you just bite your own mandibles while eating?”

“That's the question you ask? 

But yeah i guess sometimes i bite my own mandibles, though don't tell me you've never bitten your own tongue while eating”

Fair, to him it was just one more appendage he had,  not anymore strange to his own body than my tongue was to mine.

“Yeah fair, one time i nearly bit a chunk off because i fell out of a tree while eating, not exactly my smartest day”

At least it had healed quickly, but damn that had hurt.

“Oh we all have some dumb days,  and you know what i think i'm going to make this a smart one and go get some new shirts, and maybe a bandana for Basha”

“Wait then he's Basha the bandana wearing Basan all words with B”

He laughed and jumped on top of the railing, cradling said Basan.

“Oh I'm well aware! That's why I'm getting him one!”

With that he jumped down and I realized a bit late that this was built on top of a natural wall and thus went down about three stories deep even though it was technically ground level.

I rushed to lean over the balustrade,  but the Fae man had landed safely and was walking away while his Basan perched on his shoulder like a parrot.

Man the Islands were sure one chaotic place,  there was lots of stuff I would never consider trying on my own.

Then again the ones doing it weren't Human or elf and knew better what they were capable of than me.

Aside from Ronan maybe, he had to be frequently stopped from doing dangerous things that definitely would kill him.

I should probably head back inside,  I did want to see if the other ones were okay, 

especially Jamie who had rocks thrown at them among other things.

At least Akeem deflected the knife, and just threw a grown man twenty feet or so like he weighed nothing.

For someone that didn't even have muscles he was stupidly strong.

For a moment a horrified realization crossed my mind, if Grella was right about Magic Dying then what would happen to Akeem?

He was a statue come to live through some wayward magic, would he simply revert back to being a statue? Fall apart into parts and pieces?

Crumble to dust?

Or would it not affect him since he technically was some sort of gem and Grella did say magic could be stored in some of those.

I really hoped it was the latter.

NEXT / PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

[samanthamarkle92]

Soap’s Girl

Hey everyone! Well, the steamy stuff starts here! Wouldn't consider it smut because of the emotion, but will tag it because it's pretty explicit. Enjoy! Shout outs to: @nsharks @shadow0-1 @deadbranch @salbei-141 @thiswomanhasissues @loonyundead @codfanzine @mocha @cravingcoldoreocake123 @ilovehotchocolate @sofasoap @loneghostwolf @mistyresolve @islenthatur @bittersw33t-lotus @m0chac0ffee @fictional-men-have-my-heart @ghostslillady @ghosts-bandwagon @soapxmactavish @mactavishwritings @sleepyconfusedpotato @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @halcyone-of-the-sea @rileyslibrary @ghostkinnie @mctvsh @macravishedbymactavish @mistydeyes @cowyolks @maxinequigleyart @ave661 @clownfishenthusiast @lunarw0rks @summermoonshine @lundenloves @glossysoap @cheezbites @xintothewoodswegox @sighmurderbot @wolfieisacat @1-ker0sene-1 @oniiloma @castleninja @ghostslittlegf @fastleopard1521 @saltofmercury

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Chapter 7

The trial finally came. It took place during the second week of May. Katie was sitting in the witness box, telling all of the details she remembered from the robbery.  Soap was there. Ghost sat in the back, waiting for her to be excused so he could protect her when she left the building. No one was prepared for what happened next.

Katie was leaving the courthouse with Ghost behind her. Soap stayed back, knowing the press might be there. Suddenly, he heard the sound of glass breaking, and Katie screaming. 

“Bloody hell!”

 He screamed.

The crowd went wild and started shouting.

“It’s an acid attack! Get the fuck outta here!” Ghost shouted over the din. Soap jumped into action, rushing out of the courtroom.

“Katie!” He yelled frantically, running towards where she fell. A shattered bottle lay near her, a smoking liquid pooling around her.

“Katie! Are you okay?!” He knelt next to her and grabbed her wrist, turning it. She was trying to get her coat off, which was smoking as the corrosive liquid ate away the fabric.

“Oh god…” she breathed out, trying not to cry. Blood trickled down her chin. Soap yanked her coat off and tried pouring his water bottle over her arm where the acid hit.

The trip to the hospital was frantic, but the doctors knew what they needed to do. Katie was okay; the acid didn't make much contact with her skin to cause a major burn, and she had some minor cuts from the glass. 

“Katie, let's get away for a while,” Soap said when they got home.

“Where?”

“My family has a cottage back in Scotland. Why don't we go there for a while? It's out in the country, there shouldn't be any risk of people finding us.”

Katie agreed instantly. They packed a few bags and headed into the night, heading into Scotland. The journey took almost a whole day.

When they finally reached the cabin, it was surrounded by trees. A big deck wrapped around in an L-shape. There was a stone fireplace inside, with a deerskin rug in front of it. In a corner was a wood stove.

“How long do you plan on staying here?” She asked curiously. 

“As long as you need. There’s running water, and everything is solar-powered.  Everything is fully stocked. We'll find somewhere else to live too once we figure things out...I'm just happy you're safe.” Soap explained.

Katie nodded, looking thoughtful.

“Can we cook something for dinner tonight?” Katie wondered.

“If you'd like. I think there's some cans of soup in the cupboard.” He replied. He made them some soup for dinner. They sat together at the table talking about anything and everything until the sun went down. Katie was drained from the long drive, and they decided to go to bed.

They woke up the next morning, Katie lying in Soap's arms while he slept peacefully. He stirred slightly, tightening his grip around her. He kissed the top of her head before waking her.

“Morning sunshine. Time for breakfast?” He asked.

“Yeah...but maybe later? I'm really tired,” she yawned. 

“Sure thing. Breakfast sounds fine to me.” 

They made pancakes and eggs. After eating breakfast, they walked outside.

Soap stood with his arm wrapped around her waist. 

“How about a walk in the woods? We'll explore some. I would spend hours out here when I was a boy. ” He suggested.

“Okay.”

They set off into the forest together, walking through some fallen leaves that crunched under their shoes.

“This used to be my favorite place.” He smiled nostalgically.

“Really?” Katie glanced at him questioningly.

“I’d be out here sometimes with my cousins and siblings. We’d pretend it was the Middle Ages. I always wanted to play the hero. I’d climb the trees with my toy sword, imagining I had to fight my way through hordes of enemies. And then my dad would always say, ‘Be careful, you can fall and break your neck,’ and we’d laugh. When I was older, I’d come out here and hunt and fish. My dad and I loved the outdoors.”

Katie thought about what he was saying. She remembered the times she’d spent playing in the woods. She remembered the thrill she felt whenever she’d hear birds singing in the distance. It sounded like an old friend. The leaves were fully green, and warm sunlight filtered through other branches.

 Small animals skittered across the ground and ran off into the woods. It was peaceful.

They continued walking for a few minutes, enjoying the peace that blanketed the area. Then, Katie heard the rustling of trees, and Soap pointed to a female deer. A tiny fawn followed her, running alongside her mother. It was a cute little creature. Katie looked over at Soap, grinning at him.

“Wow!” She breathed. 

“She’s a beauty. Come on love, let’s take a picture of her and the baby.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the tree. They snapped the pictures and Soap handed her his phone.

“Thank you. This is so nice.”

When the deer left, Soap pulled Katie down another trail.

“Come on, there's something you're going to love!” he beamed,  his eyes practically shining.

A few moments later, they reached their destination.

It was beautiful. A pond filled with blue, turquoise water sat in a large clearing surrounded by trees. Small white flowers were dotted here and there.  A small waterfall was falling into the lake below them. The air smelled sweetly of moss and lavender. The entire area felt magical.

“Beautiful. Thank you Soap.” Katie smiled.

“Anything for you.” He smiled happily back at her, kissing her forehead softly. 

“Let's go sit under the tree. The sunlight will probably feel good after being cooped up inside all day,” he said.

Soap led Katie to a spot under the tree, and they sat down. 

“Do you want to stay like this for a while?” He asked.

“Yeah....let’s just sit here for a bit.” Katie closed her eyes. Soap pulled her against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and he began running his fingers gently through her hair.

“There’s some standing stones around here too. There’s a family legend that says these rocks were worshipped by the Picts long ago, and that it’s one of their main sacred places. It's been there for as long as anyone can remember. We should look at them tomorrow. If we’re lucky, we might get lucky and see something interesting,” he chuckled.

“You mean like ghosts or fairies?” She teased.

“Maybe both.” 

“Sounds perfect,” she mumbled. She laid her head on his lap, closing her eyes.

“You are the most precious thing in the world to me. Every single day I am thankful. I know that my job won't make it easy, but I wouldn't mind you being with me forever.”

“Me neither,” she whispered. Her heart swelled with happiness and warmth at his words. Soap continued stroking her hair gently, keeping silent.

After a while, they decided to circle back to the cabin.

Once they were back, Katie collapsed onto the couch, still holding Soap’s hand. They ate dinner, Katie making flatbread over the firepit. Soap made a fire in the fireplace, and he and Katie sat on the rug in front, enjoying its warmth. He kissed her neck,  and she giggled.

“What is it?”

“I haven't laughed in ages. You have no idea how good it feels,” she sighed.

“Good. I hope I've been able to bring a smile to your face today.” He told her honestly. She kissed his mouth softly. He buried his fingers in her soft hair, deepening the kiss. She moved to straddle his lap, and he placed a knee between her legs, pressing himself against her hardening core. His hands slid down her hips, gripping her ass tightly.

“Soo....can we...?” She stuttered nervously.

“Of course.” Soap whispered huskily. 

Katie slid his t-shirt off, revealing his muscled torso. A few tattoos were inked on his arms, and she ran her fingers lightly across them. He moaned quietly at her touch, leaning in to kiss her passionately. She broke the kiss, staring deeply into his eyes, her lips red and swollen from his kisses. His eyes glistened with lust and desire.

Her hands were exploring his chest and stomach. Soap gripped her shoulders,  pulling her closer to him until she straddled his lap completely. They both groaned as they kissed again. Soap slipped his hand underneath her shirt, tracing the outline of her body. He lifted his hand away and started unbuttoning her blouse.

“Are you sure?” she asked breathlessly.

“More than sure.” He husked, his hands unbuttoning her jeans. He pulled them off roughly, tossing them onto the rough hardwood floor. They both lay back in the rug, tangled in each other’s limbs. Her eyes fluttered closed. He watched her breathing slow, feeling the rise and fall of her breast against his chest. He leaned forward, trailing butterfly kisses along her jawline and collarbone.

Her skin burned beneath his caresses. His strong hand ran along her smooth back, unclasping her bra.

“Sweetheart, you're perfect,” Soap whispered, lifting her and carrying her bridal style to the bed. 

“Johnny, wait...” Katie said, sitting up and pulling a blanket over herself.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing. It’s just...” she sighed, “I’ve never had sex before...”

“Oh, honey...this is something special. It’s very different than anything we’ve done before. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

He climbed in beside her, wrapping his arms around her. Her slender hands undid his belt and jeans, and she pushed them down. He was wearing grey boxer briefs. His hand cupped her face, turning her towards him and kissing her softly.

“Relax. Don’t be nervous, I promise you,” he whispered. Katie smiled shyly, and she allowed him to pull her close. He gently traced patterns on her naked back, sending shivers down her spine. He gently removed her underwear,  slipping it aside. Her nipples hardened instantly at the sight of him. They pressed against his stomach, causing him to chuckle.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, placing a tender kiss on her belly. His tongue brushed against her navel, causing goosebumps to erupt on her bare skin. His strong fingers went to her cleft, and he stroked it gently, feeling her getting wet. He rubbed her gently, moving slowly to pleasure her.

“I’m so hot,” Katie moaned. He kissed her gently, letting his tongue slip past her teeth.

“You're burning up, but then, you’ll let go and I’ll catch you.” Katie arched as the tension increased. He massaged her clitoris, causing her to moan loudly. A slight tremor raced through her, and he continued teasing her with his finger. Finally, she came apart in his hands, moaning his name softly.

“Oh, Johnny….you feel amazing….so wonderful….” she gasped as her legs trembled uncontrollably. She sank back into the mattress, panting. 

“That was just the first part...it gets better.” He grinned wickedly. His hand traveled down her side, brushing over her waist. Her body jolted slightly, a shiver of anticipation running through her. 

“Hold onto me…” he whispered. Katie looped her arms around his torso. 

“Don’t worry, if I do this gently, it shouldn’t hurt.”

Katie nodded silently, biting her lip anxiously.

With great care, Soap brought himself to her, slowly pushing into her. She let out an audible gasp, her body tensing slightly.

“You okay?” He muttered lowly.

“Just...give me a second.” 

He entered her as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt her. She was so tight. It hurt slightly, but it didn't stop him from trying harder. Her muscles clamped down on his cock and he thrust into her with more strength. He groaned as her warm, silky walls clenched tightly around him.

Soon he was coming as well, and he grabbed her tightly, burying his face in her neck.

"Steaming Hell!" He groaned, collapsing next to her. They were both spent and sated, panting heavily. 

Katie curled up on him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. He pressed soft kisses against her cheek.

“I love you,” she mumbled sleepily.

“I love you, too. ” He replied, tightening his embrace on her.

“It was nice to spend time with you today.....and just to relax....with you, I felt...like nothing mattered anymore. Like maybe...just maybe, I could live my whole life like this.” She yawned.

“What would you do when I have to go on missions?  Would you be okay without me?” He asked quietly.

She thought about it for a minute, thinking about the possibility of never seeing him again. She hated what would happen if he were to leave. It was hard enough already. She knew she couldn’t let him go.

“I’ll find a way to cope...as long as I know you’re safe. I don’t think I could handle losing you. Not after everything.”

Soap hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He was glad she was so happy now. He pulled her close to him, playing with her honey-gold hair.

“My lovely lass, I’ll always protect you no matter what.”