#but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there (for now it’s just 4 chapters as god intended; the rest would be considered bonus content | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justmeinadaze · 2 months ago

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Inescapable Part 4 (Steddie X You)

Warning with some notes: Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N; Dom/Sub dynamics, SMUT, steddie get intimate, degrading (little boy, slut, etc), light choking and spanking, dirty talk, FLUFF, Y/N talks about Olivia.

ANGST *breathes it in like coffee*, Starts where the last chapter ended, father threatens all three, reader is smacked and threatened to never see them again, mentions of an arranged marriage, boys touch on their lives in prison and how they cope, some toxic behavior from the boys in regards to keeping the reader safe, guys are hurt and blood is mentioned, mentions of a rough birth but no real details are given (they're both fine <3), SLIGHT cliffhanger ending.

Word Count: 5474

Series here/Donate to me <3

“Here’s what’s going to happen.”, your father commands as he continues to glare their way. “You will stop speaking and all communications end today. If I catch even a single letter being sent her way, I will make you regret it. Am I being clear, boys?”

“We love her.”, Eddie answered causing your dad to roll his eyes as he rose to his feet.

“It seems what I’m saying isn’t sinking in.” Grabbing the metalhead’s hair, he roughly pressed his face down into the steel table making him grunt in pain as Steve pulled at his handcuffs to try and help to no avail. “All of that ends today. You will never see my daughter again or that baby. It’s my job to protect her and I’m not going to let you murder her like you did those other kids.”

“Dad, please.”, you beg. “I love them to.”

Your dad snickers slightly as he lets Eddie go before leaning against the wall and folding his arms.

“Say your goodbyes now and just so you know she will be taken care of. Derek and I talked about it and after HIS baby is born, they will both get married and live happily ever after. Amen.”

Their eyes flick to you as the tears begin to flow again and you reach for their hands.

“I didn’t agree to that, I fucking swear. I love you both so much and I’ll always be here. I promise—” Tugging at your bicep, your father lifts you from your seat as you continue to try and cling to them. “NO! Dad, please! DON’T DO THIS!”

Guards come in to uncuff the boys as your dragged out of the room and into the hallway. Hearing your screams and pleading, awakes something primal in them both and all they can think about is getting to you.

Steve elbows a guard in the face and shoves another out of the way as he runs down the hall but before he can reach you is tackled to the ground followed by Eddie who only got as far as outside the doorway. Feeling the same, you hit your dad’s chest hard enough for him to release you and you slide to the floor to be by their side.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Using all of his strength, one of Steve’s arms was freed and he reached out to pinch your cheeks, bringing your lips to his.

“This isn’t over, honey. I promise. We’ll get to you.”

Eddie was able to wiggle out of the officers hold enough to wrap his arm around your neck and kiss your lips as well.

“We love you, baby. Everything’s going to be ok.”

You began to sob harder when they were hit with something hard as you were lifted off the ground and carried out to your dad’s car.

***

As your father begins to drive away, you scream and kick at things in his truck until he pulls over to the side of the road.

“Calm down right now and you listen to me, Y/N! I will not be the fucking embarrassment of this town. Do you fucking hear me?”

“You already crossed that bridge when you cheated on mom with the town slut in the back of your cruiser. I guess fucking criminals runs in the family.”, you spit.

The sound of his palm hitting your cheek and your gasp that followed silenced you as you glared past him out the driver’s side window.

“Listen to me and you listen good. You will stay away from those men or so help me God, Y/N, I will make sure they stay in there for the rest of their Goddamn lives. Do I make myself clear?” When you don’t answer he shouts, making you jump as he repeats his question.

“Yes, sir.”, you grumble through gritted teeth.

“You will marry Derek before the baby is born and then we will go back to all our normal routines like one big happy family.”

Folding your arms, you turn to lay your head against the glass as you continue to cry.

####################

June 3rd, 1998

Steve’s nose scrunches in anger as he punches the boxing bag they keep in the gym of the prison. As he glances towards his friend, Eddie’s eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Fuck off, Munson. Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not looking at you in anyway, Harrington. I’m just…a little worried.”

“I know but what can we do trapped behind this fucking concrete wall.”, he grunts as he continues punching.

“I meant I’m worried about you.”

Steve’s chest puffs out as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, ignoring his friend as he continues what he was doing. Abruptly, the metalhead takes hold of his arm and pulls him into the bathroom nearby.

“You have to calm down.”, Eddie scolds.

“How the fuck can I be calm! It’s been a month with no word. No phone calls, letters, nothing. What if something happens to her or Olivia?!”

It was an automatic reaction, something both of them had done a few times over the years and more to calm the other. Taking ahold of Steve’s cheeks Eddie crashed his lips to his own, his fingers tangling in his hair before both men are panting as they rest their forehead against each other’s.

“You think this doesn’t kill me to? But what can we do, Steve? We don’t have enough money to buy another night out.”

“We have enough to get to Canada.”

The metalhead’s eyes widen as he searches through his friends to see if he’s serious.

“I thought we wanted to do this right? What life would she have?”, he whispers.

“What life would she have married to fucking Derek with her dad breathing down her neck?”

“Steve…I don’t know...”

“Munson! Harrington! Your lawyer is here to see you.”, a guard called sharply making them jump before quickly exiting the room.

***

“Um, Bobby, where are we going?”, Eddie asks as they pass the interrogation rooms they usually meet with their lawyer in.

The guard doesn’t say a word as he continues to lead them further down the hall and outside to a separate building they had never been to before. Both men brace, preparing for anything especially after the last few months they had before the man stops just outside of a cellblock door.

It looked like every other one except this one had no window so people could peak in.

“You have three hours to go over your case and anything else you may need.”, Bobby relays, looking around as he leans in to unhook their cuffs. “I told you guys I’m on your side. Three hours. Not one second longer.”

Their eyebrows furrowed as he opened the door but all confusion and worry evaporated when their eyes landed on you.

Before you could say anything, you started to sob as you ran forward with Steve meeting you halfway as your arms wrapped around him.

“I don’t…how…how are you here right now?”

“I had to come make sure you were ok.”, you hiccupped as you hugged Eddie next. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get to you but my dad’s been a tyrant.”

Tilting you head back, the metalhead cupped your face as his thumbs tried to dry your eyes.

“He threatened to hurt you or keep you both in here longer and I was so scared.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about that now. As long as nobody’s hurting you.” Ignoring him, you took hold of his thumb to bend his hand so you can place tender kisses on his palm. “Nobody’s hurting you right?”

Again, you didn’t answer and this time Steve intervened as he lightly but firmly gripped your jaw making you sigh.

“After we left you, my dad got mad when I told him he couldn’t stop me from loving you. Since then, his friends have been keeping an eye on me. Following me to school or back to my house. When I do my homework, sometimes they’ll show up to dig through my work to make sure I’m not writing you.”, you explain as you wipe your eyes and back away towards the bed.

“My mom came down and tried to intervene but that didn’t go well. They fought and she couldn’t take it anymore so she went home. She offered to take me with her but I told her I couldn’t leave you.”

“Have you lost your mind?”, Steve scolded in a firm tone that had you sitting up straighter. “Take her offer and get out of here. You’d be safer and happier with her!”

Your anger fueled eyes glare his way.

“I would NOT be happier. I would be just as miserable if not more because you wouldn’t be there!”

“We still won’t be there, sweetheart.”, Eddie sighs as he sits beside you and rubs your back. “We still have another 13years here but at least with your mom you could call and write.”

“No…no. Everyone else has abandoned you but I won’t.”, you declare making them swoon as he leans over kiss your cheek and Steve kneels in front of you taking your hands.

When he rests his head against your stomach, he feels a little push causing him to jerk back as you giggle.

“Yeah, she moves quite a bit now.” Taking both their hands, you place them where you felt her move and on cue she kicks her little feet against them.

“Wow…”, Eddie breathes as his thumb rubs your skin. “Probably has a lot to say about all this. Don’t you, princess?”

Reaching into your bag, you hand them your new ultrasound and a big grin spreads across their faces as they take her in.

“You see she has her little nose and these cute tiny hands.”, you beam as you point to things on the image. “Your, um, your uncle gave me a cassette of your band playing songs and Olivia just loves it. She wiggles around.”

The metalhead softly smiles your way before you both watch him stand and face the wall away from you.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m, um, I’m ok. I just need a minute.”, he chokes out causing you to rise and wrap your arms around him as you lean your head on his back. “I hate all this bullshit. We shouldn’t even be here! We did nothing wrong!”

You squeezed him tighter wishing you could take away his pain. This was the first time you were seeing this type of break but for Steve it was nothing new. They could hold things in pretty well until they couldn’t and that animosity would spill out, sometimes aggressively.

“How can I help?”, you whisper.

“You can’t, Y/N. Not in your condition.”

“I’m pregnant, Steve, not broken.”, you giggle making both him chuckle with you.

“Naw, baby girl, we know but sometimes in here our outlet is a bit different than what we did with you out there.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re a smart girl. Do you really need it spelled out?!”, Eddie snapped startling you as you let him go.

His dark eyes locked with yours and you could feel the other man’s practically boring into your skull as they waited for you to get to the realization on your own.

“Oh.”, you squeaked in a little voice that had their heads tilting. “Is it…do you like it? I mean is it consensual?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question.”

“Hey.”, Steve growled towards his friend who exhaled through his nose as he looked away. “Yes, it’s consensual. We would never do anything to genuinely hurt the other. Like with you we have safe words and everything.”

“Is it intimacy or survival?”, you murmur, your tone getting smaller and smaller; you were dropping.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?! So you can decide if you still love us or not?!”

The other man rose to his feet and suddenly took hold of Eddie’s throat.

“Don’t talk to her that way. She’s trying to understand. Right, honey?”

“Yes, Daddy. I love you either way. I just want to know more. You never made any indication that—”

“We didn’t know if we could trust you.”, Steve responded before Eddie could. “It started as survival…needing someone to hold in the middle of the night when the lights go out. Needing to feel safe in a place that’s anything but. You touch yourself needing that release but after a while you want…NEED more.”

“People would make it into something it’s not.”, Eddie added. “Something dirty like the only reason we do this is because we’re in prison. It may be the reason it started but… us being rough with each other… it’s hard to explain and to be honest I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to.”, you coo as you press up to kiss his lips. “Do you want me to give you some alone time? If this is between you two I don’t want to intrude.”

The metalhead’s hair lightly swats at his face as he shakes his head.

“What do you need from me, Sir?”

“I want you to watch.”

Nodding, you kiss him again before turning to do the same with Steve and waddling to a chair next to the bed. After smiling comfortingly your way, he turns his body to face his friend.

“Soft, rough or rough, rough?”

“Both, I think.”

“Ok, baby. Use me.”, the pretty boy smirks as he sarcastically takes a bow with his arms wide open.

Gripping his cheeks, Eddie crashes their lips together and a little sigh leaves your own as you watch them mingle together. When Steve’s arms came back down, they wrapped around the other boy’s waist, lifting him off his feet to walk with him towards the bed. After pushing the metalhead onto the mattress, Steve yanks off the man’s sweats and underwear before taking his cock in his hand and taking him into his mouth.

“Fuck, Steven.”, Eddie groaned as he moved the boy’s hair away from his face to watch him. “All the way down. I know you can fuckin’ take it.”

At the sound of his light gags, the metalhead tightened his grip in his soft locks and guided his head lower to take him deeper.

“That’s it. Choke on it. Choke on my dick, dirty boy.” Chocolate eyes flick to you as he notices you squirm in your seat and place your hands between your legs hoping to ease the ache. “You like this, Y/N? Watching him struggle to take all of me down his tight little throat?”

“Y-Yes, Sir. Does he feel good?”

“Jesus, you’re asking a lot of stupid fucking questions today. You’ve felt his mouth, you know how amazing it is.”

“I…I didn’t.” Eddie blinks as he tugs on Steve’s head, allowing him to catch his breath. “I only felt your tongue that night.”

“We’re going to correct that right now. Come here, baby.” With his arm steadying you behind your back, you removed your pants and kicked them to the side. “Go ahead and rest your back against the pillows.”, he instructed and you followed as you watched him pull Steve to his feet to undress him.

Falling onto the mattress, Steve slithered on his stomach between your legs and his palms gripped your thighs.

“Fuck, you smell so good.”, the man whimpered breathily as he pressed his nose to the cloth against your core. “Tell us if you need stop at any point, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

Moving your panties to the side, his tongue pressed against your clit and a cry caught in your throat as the width of it seemed to envelope you.

“Oh my g—“, you moan as he licked between your folds in long, slow strokes that had your eyes roll shut as your fingers run through his hair much softer than the other man’s. Steve hums against you and the vibration has your eyes searching for the cause, landing on Eddie pushing two of his digits inside of the boy in front of him.

“I told you, sweetheart. His mouth is fucking heaven especially in this hell.” When Eddie grumbles his last sentence, his hand comes down hard on Steve’s ass making him grunt and flick his tongue faster against your nub. “Come on, dirty boy. Make our girl cum. Make her cum so I can fuck you like the slut you are.”

His fingers dug into your skin as the obscene sound of slurping filled the room till you shuddered and came against his tongue. Eddie spanked him again as Steve pushed up onto one of his palms while his other rested above your mound as his thumb rubbed slow circles against your bundle of nerves.

Your eyes continuously took in the little features on his face as the metalhead spit directly into his hole and gradually slid his cock into his entrance. Steve licked his lips as his head fell but you quickly grabbed his chin to lift it back up.

“You…you look so handsome like this, Daddy.”

“Fuck.”, he mewled as Eddie took hold of his waist and thrust his hips.

He seemed almost lost in what he was doing as he roughly pounded into him with each grunt that fell from the pretty boy’s mouth bordering the line between pleasure and pain with your gentle caresses a stark contrast.

In the middle of everything, Steve’s eyes abruptly snapped open and you saw that primal look you had seen in them both when your dad was pulling you away from them. Gripping your thighs again, he pushed them open flat against the bed and lobbed a huge glob of spit into your cunt before pumping two of his long, thick fingers inside of you.

Your own eyes closed until you gasped at the feeling of a tongue against your clit immediately recognizing it wasn’t Steve but Eddie. Laying his chest onto the man’s back, he leaned his head against his shoulder as his mouth played with you.

“Fuck…I’ll never get over how…sweet she is. Don’t…Don’t stop fingering her, Steven! Or I swear to God.”, the metalhead growled through gritted teeth. “Make her cum again, little boy. That’s it…thrust those fingers so fucking deep. Shit—you’re just as tight as her.”

“More.”, you begged and Eddie obliged as he fell into you again to flick your nub with his tongue as he rolled his cock into the man beneath him. “I’m…”

As the ball dropped and they helped you through your orgasm, Steve offered his digits to his friend who eagerly licked them clean. Pushing back onto his knees, he chased their highs as you limply slid your body under the pretty boy and he rested his face in the nook of your neck.

“How does he feel, Daddy?”

“Mmph—good.” Your lips delicately kissed his until you felt his face scrunch as his sweaty forehead fell against your skin. “Fuck, baby.”

At his shaky breath, one of his hands reached down to stroke his cock till you felt his release land on your thigh. Eddie’s palm took hold of the man’s throat as he pulled him closer to his chest and kissed him much softer than he had been.

“Thank you. Thank you so much…for everything…sweetheart. Mmugh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Steve nodded and as he clung his arms around him, the metalhead grunted as he pounded his release into the boy beneath him.

Their heavy pants filled the room as they stayed like that and you waited patiently for them to collect their bearings.

Steve was the one to move first, crawling forward, and collecting you in his arms as his head hit the pillow. Eddie silently went to work cleaning his friend and then you before laying down in front of you so he could take your hand in his.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to show me that. If you ever want to be intimate in front of me or without me…I don’t mind.”

The metalhead’s palm gently pets your head as he leans forward to kiss your forehead. When your eyes meet his, you notice a deep pain within them that breaks your heart.

“We don’t really think too much about it but I do know that when I hear him cry at night I feel so helpless. When I hold him and kiss him, it makes me feel safe to. Like I have some control, you know?”

“Have you considered thinking about it?”

The metalhead knew what you meant, nodding as his fingers caressed your cheek.

“We can’t in here. People exploit that.”

“Do they exploit that when it comes to me?”

“No…probably because they know we would fucking kill anyone that came after you or hurt you.”

His beautiful eyes darkened and Steve pushes up on his elbow to glance over your face.

“Anyone?”

“Anyone, sweetheart. Any convict. Any Ex. Any…tyrant.”

You should be afraid…but you’re not.

You should be disgusted that they would kill someone for you…but you weren’t.

You should hate men like them…but you didn’t.

Shaking your head, you curl yourself closer into the Steve’s chest as your arms reached for Eddie who scooted as close to your body as he could.

“We’d never hurt you, Y/N. I hope you know that.”, the pretty boy whispered as he kissed your shoulder.

“Or anyone else, unless you felt unsafe or in danger.”

A light knock doesn’t stir any of you as you continue to stare into those chocolate eyes in front of you.

“Do you feel unsafe?”

“15 more minutes, guys.”, the guard informed you without opening the door.

“No, Sir.”

“Do you trust us to protect you if you were in danger?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

It takes a couple more moments but when their eyes do finally soften, they lean in to hug you tightly and kiss your lips.

##########################

June 14th, 1998

“Munson! Harrington! Ya’ll have a visitor!”

Both men exchange a glance as they stand up from their beds and allow the guard to lead them towards the integration rooms.

“She wouldn’t come this soon right?”, Steve whispered.

“I don’t think so.”

The person leading them tugged their chain, signaling them to be quiet before heading outside to where they had yard time during the afternoons. Right now, it was pitch black as they had begun getting ready for bed for the evening but they didn’t think anything out of the ordinary until they were pulled into the weight room and were met with a couple of fists to their faces.

“You know, you both are stubborn just like Y/N.”, your dad sasses as he stands up from the bench he had been waiting on. “I see why she likes you.”

A few of the guards pull both boys up to their knees and turn them to face him.

“She’s not as crafty as she thinks she is. She did slip away for a while but one of my officers did catch her leaving this facility so—”

“If you hurt her—” Another fist interrupts, Eddie as he grunts and spits blood onto the floor.

“Who let her in? Which guard is it?”

The fuck you that Steve answers with didn’t help the situation as he was kicked in the stomach hard and toppled over.

“You know, she may hate me but one day she will thank me. She may think you’re innocent but I’ve seen what you did; the pain you inflicted on those people. I will not let my daughter die because of some stupid crush.”

“So you’d force her to be with someone she doesn’t like?”, the metalhead growled before being hit again.

“If it keeps her alive and me respected than yes.”

A snarky, deep laugh left Steve’s lips as his head tilted back to stare at your father.

“That’s what it really is, isn’t it? You don’t give a fuck about her. All that matters is image and how you look. Oh, I know all about that being a Harrington.”

Your dad stepped forward and reached out to pull the man’s hair causing him to wince slightly as his jaw clenched.

“There he is. I was wondering when I’d meet the serial killers and not the ‘poor me’ image you display for the world. Has Y/N seen this side of you yet?”

“Outside or in the bedroom?”

Steve was punched much harder than before making Eddie snicker hoping to distract them.

“She hasn’t and she never will until you give us a reason to.”

“Don’t you mean unless?”

“That’s up to you.”

A little hm noise left your dad’s mouth as he smiled and stepped away.

“Y/N had her baby a couple of days ago.” Both their eyes snapped his way as his grin grew. “She named her Olivia Y/L/N. She wanted to give her your last names but I forbade it. I was going to put Derek’s last name but…I figured I’d give her this especially after the birth.”

“Are they ok—ugh!”

“Oh, Mr. Munson, what happened? Not so sarcastic now are we? Here’s what’s going to happen. Since my daughter disobeyed, you will be punished. I’m thinking for Mr. Munson here, Indianapolis. That’s where your father is right? And Mr. Harrington how about Washington? I think that’s far enough away.”

At the sound of both men’s shouts his way, your father smirked as he headed out the door.

“Enjoy your last night together, gentlemen.”

***

Monitors continually to beep as your eyes fluttered open. You were still incredibly exhausted after rushing to the hospital and being in labor for as long as you were before Olivia decided to grace the world with her presence.

Olivia.

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t move. What do you need?”, Derek asked as you began to sit up. He sighed when you ignored him to reach for the crib and touch your daughter’s cheek to make sure she was ok. “The doctor said you should rest and take these…”

As he reached his hand out to give you some pills, you swatted them away across the room.

“Y/N, I’m trying to help.”

“Fuck you.”

Exhaling, he took a seat by the foot of your bed and you immediately curled into yourself so he wouldn’t touch you.

“I didn’t know what to do. Your dad said if I did this he could help my family. We are in so much debt and my mom is about to go bankrupt. I could get kicked out of school and my family could lose their house—”

“So you agreed to settle down and ruin my life, you selfish asshole.”

“I’M selfish!?”, he hissed. “You brought an innocent baby into this world who has no idea her father is fucking murderer. And what, you were just going to raise her by yourself till she was 13 in a town where she will be ostracized?! She deserves better.”

“Fuck you. You are NOT Olivia’s father.”, you growl.

Derek’s eyes darken in anger as he rises to his feet.

“Whether you like it or not I am now and next week you’re going to be my wife so it’s time you start accepting that fact. You did…once.”

As soon as he leaves, you lay your head back and sob. A part of you knew he was right; that Olivia deserved better but she deserved Eddie and Steve. Two men who loved her and you and shouldn’t have been placed in the position they were in.

The sound of the baby cooing grabbed your attention but as you shifted in bed a palm roughly covered your mouth. Your wide, fearful eyes locked with Eddie’s as he slowly placed his finger over his month and gestured towards the door where you saw Steve waiting.

Rapidly taking them in, they both had cuts and bruises on their face that looked fresh. The metalhead himself had a pool of blood on his shirt and when you reached out to touch it, it was wet and he didn’t flinch.

It wasn’t his.

Olivia whined again as both your eyes fleeted in that direction.

“Miss Y/N?”, one of the officer’s asked from down the hall. “Baby is making noise.”

“Shhhhhhh!”, a nurse loudly calls towards him making him huff.

“How is girl going to be a mom when she sleeps through a baby crying—”

As the man stepped into the room, Steve wrapped his arm around his neck in chokehold till the man stopped struggling and slumped to the floor.

“Are you both ok?”, Eddie whispers as he lifts his palm while you watch his friend begin to remove the cop’s uniform. “Y/N, look at me, baby.”

“Wha-Wha-What’s happening?”

“We don’t really have time to explain right now but we can after we start getting where we are going. Can you move?”

As Steve put on the jacket, he tucked the gun into his pants and continued to search for something but for what you weren’t sure.

“Y/N!”, Eddie growls in a low rumble that makes you jump before he exhales trying to control his temper. “Sweetheart, we don’t have a lot of time for this. Do you want to come with us or not?”

“I-I-I can walk but—but not fast. I need medication.”

The other boy grabs your chart and flashes it towards his friend who nods.

“Does Olivia need anything from the doctor?”

When you shake your head, Steve abruptly kneels in front of you and slides some scrub pants along your legs.

“What happened to your faces?”

“Ok, honey, I’m going to carry you and Ed’s going to get the baby. Ready?”

“Answer one of my—!”

This time the pretty boy’s palm silenced you when you raised your voice, his own angry irises glaring into yours.

“You have to be quiet, Y/N.”, he grunts in annoyance before sighing and moving his hand to caress your cheek. “Your father caught you leaving the prison.”

That’s all you needed to hear as it suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe and the machines around you began to beep.

Leaning his forehead on yours, he began to inhale and exhale with you, guiding you as you felt Eddie kiss your temple.

“Miss Y/L/N? Everything ok?”, the intercom cackled.

“Um, yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just had…had a nightmare.”

“Do you need something to help you go back to sleep?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll be alright. Thank you.”

The three of you wait and Steve hands his friend the scrubs he found as he gently lifts you off the bed to place you in a chair nearby. You watch as he grabs the officer and nervously takes off everything attached to you before hooking it to the unconscious man. When the monitors continue to beep steadily, he grins.

“Oh, I know, princess, I know. Daddy’s got you.”, Eddie murmurs softly as he lifts the baby into his arms.

As you try to stand, the world spins and you fall back down right as Steve catches your wrist.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I just…just need to sleep…”

Nodding, Steve pushes the cap down on his head and blocks as much of his eyes as he can while Eddie puts a face mask over his mouth. Pointing towards the wheelchair, he hastily puts you into it and begins exiting the room.

“Are there any other officers you’re aware of around here, Y/N?”, he whispers.

“I don’t know…but I’ve…only ever seen one.”

“Excuse me.”, the nurse calls. “Where are you taking her?”

“I, uh…”

“I wanted to get some…air. Is…that ok?! I know my father has me…fucking shackled here but I can still move around! I’m bringing this asshole…is that…ok?!”, you shouted as best you could.

The lady eyes you up and down before standing to head to a cart next to her.

“Take this before you go. The last thing we need is you getting an infection or something. And don’t be out there with that little one too long. She needs to rest to.”, she instructs as she hands you a cup of water to swallow your pill.

“How much more rest does she need?”, Steve asks, absently gesturing your way while trying to hide his genuine concern.

“She’ll be ready physically within the next couple of days and you guys hounding me constantly about that won’t heal her any faster! Jesus.”

Rolling his eyes, he continues forward to the elevator and all three of you exhale a sigh of relief as the doors close around you.

“Do you think you can hold her, Y/N?”

“Where are you going?”, Eddie asks as he gently hands you Olivia.

“I’m going to run to the third floor to grab her meds. Find us a car and I’ll meet you out front.”

###############

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nostalgicnarrator · 2 months ago

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Over Hill and Under Mountain

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Word Count: 9,586 Parings: Thorn X Bilbo Description: as Thorin and his Small company make their way though the wood, Thorin is met with problem after problem, he just wants to see his hobbit.

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

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Note:

I’ve rewritten this five times, and this is the chapter filed down and useless info removed, and it still feels wrong and kind of empty and honestly I think I fumbled with the characters in this chapter but I really don’t know how to fix it and if I don’t post this now it will forever be stuck in limbo. So I’m sorry I did my best, here ya go.

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The hours passed slowly as the group continued, till they came to a bridge that was supposed to be there, and granted it was, sort of.

With its timbers rotting and broken, it wouldn’t have even supported a hobbit or an elf. it cracked and creaked dangerously as wind brushed against it.

‘This is definitely the wrong path’ Thorin thought but- it would take too long to trace back-‘ a voice interrupted his thought.

“We can’t cross here,” Dwalin said, frowning at the collapsed structure. “We’ll need to find another way.” Dwalin looked at Thorin.

Thorin nodded, his jaw set. “We must find a different path or make our own…move carefully. Stay alert and stick together.” Thorin commanded.

the group forged around in a familiar fashion. Dwalin took the back Nori was behind Thorin as the two younger found themselves in the middle of the group.

Thorin spurred his pony forward, she reared up when he tried to get her to leave the path. But after a bit of coxing the pony’s begrudgingly tread off the path.

the dense forest seemingly closed in around them. They moved slowly but not quietly, fallen leaves crunched and rustled under hoofs.

Thorin couldn’t help but feel more uneasy than before, sick almost. He glanced back at the others, they seemed to feel similar by the looks on their faces.

Suddenly a quick rustling snapped the attention of the whole company. Thorin looked just in time to watch a spider knock Nori from his pony and throw him to the floor.

The dwarf was barely fast enough to push the venomous jaws of the spider away, he kicked and flailed somewhat helplessly in his panic before a war hammer found its mark on the spider’s head.

The spider went flying away from Nori as Dwalin swung again and smashed the head of the spider.

Nori scrambled up and pulled his mace from its hold and he slammed it into the very next spider that dropped on them-Thorin drew Orcrist and joined the others, his sister’s sons not far behind.

The company fought against the onslaught of spiders, Thorin hardly remembered there being this many spiders before. He turned and sliced the head of one spider in half.

Kíli gets pinned by another spider, Fíli stabs at its abdomen, and Kíli is able to kick it away. Nori was watching the back of Dwalin horribly mangling any spider that got close.

The battle felt long though it truly wasn’t, as Kíli ran out of arrows, Fíli had lost a sword seeing as Kíli left his on his poney who had run off with the others when the spiders attacked.

Thorin’s jaw set once again, he looked around, ‘this is it, I failed, i failed my family, my friends- I failed Bilbo’ Thorin squeezed his eyes shut at that thought ‘I failed Bilbo’ he looked around desperately at that thought

‘I can’t! No I can’t fail him now I can’t-‘ but his thoughts are interrupted by a flurry of arrows whizzed through the air, striking the spiders with a deadly precision.

He looked at Kíli who was shakily welding one of Fíli’s twin swords. ‘Then who-?’ A blond and very familiar looking Elf comes into view, he slides to a stop near them, he releases arrows as fast as he drew them.

Before even a moment had passed, most of the spiders were dead, the others fled away deeper into the shadows of the forest, the sky was darkening slowly.

The blond elf spoke haltingly, “Do…do you… need help?”, he asked Thorin. Thorin watched as the elf’s gaze turned from himself to the rest of his group. Thorin eyed the elf suspiciously.

Thorin could almost recall the name of this Elf, he was sure it started with an L, he was the elven king’s son. He knew that much anyway, he also remembered how they had met, under unsavory conditions.

Thorin had also been introduced to him formally in court of course but he really couldn’t remember the elf’s name. Was it Leg? Leg something. ‘I wonder if I asked, if that would be considered rude..?’ He thought.

Apparently, Thorin had been quiet for too long, and somewhat glaring at the elf in question. So much so that Dwalin had answered for him. “Aye, we do.”

After a long moment, the elf gestured for them to follow him. Thorin felt the eyes of his small company find him, he nodded and followed after the elf as he led them away deeper into the darkening forest.

“Where are you taking us?” Thorin asked, The elf looks back at them and then straight ahead again.

“Uncle don’t worry!” Kíli said while smiling. He clapped Thorin on the back “I’m sure he’s not taking us to a dungeon again.”

“Ugh! Don’t even joke about that- that was horrible” Fíli whines as he puts his swords away.

“That it was” Nori agreed as he nodded, Thorin looked back at the Elf. He really rather not be locked away again.

You never know with the temperament of elves, even though Thorin assumes he’s in good graces with the elves he could be wrong. Well, maybe not good.

And maybe even especially with this elf in particular. The prince had been the one leading the group that captured them the first time. And Throin does openly insult the boy’s father. This could be a trick.

Dwalin, again, after a long silence, cleared his throat, getting the elf’s attention. “So, what’s yer name again lad? Aren’t ya the elf king's son?”

The elf blinked at them but decidedly remained silent. Thorin really couldn’t help the thought that came to his mind. ‘Does he know common?’

Thorin looked up when the elf answered the first of Dwalin’s questions “Le-…Legolas.” The boy said in an unsure tone while shifting his eyes away to the tree line.

Kíli pushed ahead to be beside the elf. “That’s right! Do you remember us? You kinda locked us up for being in your territory! Your guard captain helped me when I was poisoned!” Kíli said, far too cheerily.

Legolas looked down at Kíli and rolled his eyes as he looked away. ‘So he does know common?’ Thorin thought.

Kíli continued to try and speak with Legolas as they continued through the forest but the elf seemed uninterested, while Kíli continued to talk, nonstop. Thorin was a Kíli question away from having only one hire.

Sometimes Kíli would get “yes” or “no” to questions, which only seemed to fan his flame.

Legolas led them to a different path deeper in the forest, one that was a bit better kept than the other

Once they made it to the path, Legolas seemingly disappeared. Kíli looked around for the elf he was just next to but found nothing.

Thorin didn’t see much of a reason to worry, the business of Elves was none of his, though his sister’s son seemed to think otherwise.

“Uncle! Legolas disappeared!” Kìli cried, stating the very obvious. The lad looked out into the forest as if to find the elf.

Fìli looked at his brother when he cried out, he whipped his head around also looking for the elf. Fìli’s eyes found his uncle. “Why do you think he-.” But Thorin didn’t even let the question fully settle in the air.

“Lads, he is an elf, I am not his king or his father. I have no reason to worry.” Thorin grumbled, he was not in the mood at the moment.

They had lost all their supplies, the elf was gone, and they very well could starve here.

“But uncle-“ Kìli whined. Thorin interrupted them again, he was starting to get frustrated with his sister’s sons. He had far too many other things to worry about, he did not have time for a stupid elf.

“THAT IS ENOUGH.” Thorin yelled, the two boys immediately shut their mouths, all questions quickly lost before they could be asked.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the whole company. Thorin sighed and rubbed his face, a sudden exhaustion washed over him.

Dwalin was the first to break the silence by clearing his throat, Thorin peeked over his hand that was covering his face.

“Thorin, the ponies had our supplies.” Dwalin stated and Thorin had to almost fight himself not to roll his eyes. He was very aware of what was happening. “What should we do?” Dwalin asked after a moment.

Thorin dropped his hand from his face. “We’ll make do with what we have.” Thorin crosses his arms. He looks around and then looked back at Dwalin

“Dwalin, go with the boys to gather things for a fire, maybe you will find something to eat.” Thorin suggested dully, Dwalin nodded and left with the boys.

Thorin watched them for a few minutes before turning to his spymaster. “Nori help me make a list of everything we have.” Thorin nearly demanded.

Nori nodded, and the two of them dug through what little supplies they had. Aka the two backpacks. One was Dwalin’s and the other was Fíli’s Nori had a side back and Thorin had a few things in his pockets

Thorin felt himself almost pale at the prospect of how little they truly had. He felt even more so when not much wood was found for a fire that night nor food.

Thorin did not sleep. Morning came and went. After a bit of debating on which direction to take, the smaller company began to follow the new path that they were set on by Legolas.

As much as Thorin didn’t want to, he'll have to thank the lad when he sees him again. If he saw him again.

Suddenly there was a soft rustle of leaves, everyone drew their weapons and formed a circle quickly. Thorin whipped his head to the left of the path where the rustling was coming from.

Suddenly, Legolas emerged from the trees. Beside him were two of the small company’s missing ponies, Thorin’s very own and Dwalin’s old pony.

They trailed in, looking a bit battered and beaten. The ponies somehow kept they’re owners' packs on them.

“Oh! That’s where you went!” Kíli said excitedly, Thorin raised his brow at the sound of relief in his sister’s son’s voice.

He did not know this elf well nor did they meet in good will, the first time anyway, yet Kíli sounded relieved that the elf came back. Did they seriously not trust him to lead the company out of these cursed woods.

“How did you find them?” Throin heard Fíli ask, Throin watched as Fíli huffed when Legolas offered no answer.

Legolas decided to simply stand there, as if he’s waiting on something. Thorin’s theory of Legolas not knowing common was relit at his lack of response.

Nori wasted no time, immediately going through the packs on the ponies to check them. Dwalin took the reins from Legolas, offering a curt nod of thanks while waiting for Nori to confirm what they had recovered.

Fíli looked Legolas over quietly, Thorin began to wonder if Fíli felt offended when Legolas did not answer him. Fíli was used to receiving respect as the heir and crowned prince. The boy's words carried some weight among his own people. But not here

Here Fíli’s words meant as much as an elf’s would in theirs. Thorin was very sure that being ignored so casually, by an elf especially, most likely stung the princeling’s pride, and if Thorin really looked he was sure he could see frustration beginning to bubble over inside the princeling.

He had seen a similar look when they were captured the first time though Thorin was sure it was more over being manhandled by elves. Thorin opened his mouth to say something but was instead interrupted “Only two?” Fíli asked.

Thorin watched as Fíli’s eyes scanned the woods as if hoping more ponies might emerge from the shadows. Legolas only nodded.

Dwalin grunted, “The spiders most likely got the others.”

Kíli gasped, “-no! Not peanut-she was really sweet.” Kíli whined. He looked at Thorin as if asking if it was true.

Dwalin huffed and grunted, “Not much you can do for it now lad.”

“- I think that’s mostly everything we might need, we might be a little low on food and comfort.” Nori said seemingly unaware of the other conversation he was interrupting.

Thorin stepped forward to take the reins of his own pony. The animal snorted softly, almost like recognizing Thorin. He noticed a freshly treated cut across her cheek and gently petted her snout, murmuring words of comfort.

“Thank you,” Thorin mumbled to Legolas. Apparently, the gratitude did not go entirely unheard like he thought. Thorin could feel the rest of the company look at him.

Dwalin cleared his throat and Thorin looked at him, the confused crinkling on his friend’s brow wasn’t lost on Thorin.

“Remove the saddles.” Thorin began, he turned to the rest of the company. “What we can’t burden ourselves with, the ponies will carry.”

Nori and Dwalin took to removing the saddles and dropping them to the sides of the path. They won’t be needing them.

Kíli took a pack off the ponies, Kíli and Fíli moved to carry them but Dwalin took Kíli's pack, Thorin took the other from Fíli and everything else was situated on the back of the two ponies.

When the dwarves were ready, Legolas began to lead them once more. The trek through Mirkwood was slow and difficult, especially with unwilling ponies and heavy packs.

It wasn’t made any easier with the foul air of the forest. Thorin began to allow his mind to wonder once more. ‘Has Óin faced similar perils?’ ‘Is he delayed in getting to Bilbo?’ Bilbo.

Now that’s something that takes the mountain kings mind quickly. He hasn’t thought too much on Bilbo since he received word about what happened.

‘How hurt is he?’ Thorin pails at all the images that run through his head after that thought. Thorin had to remind himself to breathe, ‘perhaps, It's best not think about it…’

Thorin looked at their elven guide, and decided to wonder over to the elf instead. ‘I wonder why he has decided to stay with us.’ Thorin casted a glance at Kíli and Fíli who were talking to the elf guide.

Thorin briefly thought of asking the elf, but as Thorin watched Fíli look up at the elf expectingly only to deflate with faced with no answer, he decided that if he did ask Legolas would probably not tell him.

So Thorin resigned himself to following this quiet elf. Dwalin, Nori and himself try to avoid talking to the elf as much as possible. Kíli and Fíli kept trying to talk with him.

But as much as the elf try, it seemed it was almost impossible to ignore the two young Durins. Not even an elf prince who acted as cold as stone could out will them.

“Perhaps a funny story will lighten you, Legolas” Kíli suggested.

“Oh, I have a good one Kíli. Once my mother, our uncle and us were walking through the stall markets in a man city.” Fíli said, he looked to his brother and grinned at him

“Fíli! No-ow!” Kíli cried and tried to cover his brothers mouth

Fíli shoved Kíli away and bounced in front of the elf prince- who started to fight a creeping smirk on his face. “Hush nadadith, the adults are talking, so Kíli and I were near the fountains where some Dwarowdams were and, he tried his hand in flirting-lets just say it ended horribly- mother showed up and-“

“FEE! Shut up!!” Kíli yelled, Thorin had to stifle a laugh as the boy stomped his foot. Almost like a child not getting his way.

“-And-ah! Uncle help!!” The two boys crashed to the ground making the ponies whiny in slight panic. Thorin chuckled as he and Dwalin calmed the ponies. But almost immediately everything fell deftly silent as Legolas snorted, a sound that Thorin didn’t know an elf could make, the elf prince began to laugh.

Thorin looked up in shock, it was the first time Legolas had anything but a blank face or an annoyed look. As the elven prince calmed he had to cover his mouth but Thorin saw it, the smile the lad held. Then surprisingly, the elf spoke with a humored tone.

“Father said you are all pig headed people that hate other races, that you and your people are violent and untrustworthy, that i should avoid talking-“

Kili interrupted him with a loud “Hey!”

Legolas shook his head but showed his smile “I am beginning to think that he was wrong, at least somewhat.” That raised a chuckle from Dwalin.

Fíli got up and smiled up at the elven prince. “Maybe you’ll answer my questions now?”

Kíli jumped up and joined his brother. “To think all we had to do is tall a story-“

Fili nodded, then offered his brother a bobcat-like smile and elbowed him before saying “hey how about I tell the one about-mmph!”

Thorin knew the story the lad was talking of and promptly put a hand over his mouth and glared at Kíli who just looked lost.

Thorin huffed and opened his mouth to yell at Fíli, then the elf prince spoke up “while I … love stories, perhaps, we should continue?” He waited a moment and when Thorin nodded the elf continued to lead the way. Legolas began to gladly talk with the boys, though he was a little strange toward Kíli for a while.

After that day each evening after they made camp, Legolas would disappear into the woods, only to return with game or other food. Then sit and spend almost hours talking with the boys.

Thorin found himself very grateful for it, it kept the boys distracted and they at least had something to eat. He also, for some reason, was beginning to feel very proud of Legolas, that the boy was to be the future leader of his kingdom.

Though he doesnt think he’d ever say that out loud, Dwalin had taken a bit of a liking to the boy too, mostly because of the princes who would occasionally drag him into the conversations.

Nori had taken a liking to the elf, but for a different reason, he saw him as a personal challenge. Nori tried to steal from the elf a few times-and each time was caught.

Thorin was grateful that the young prince took it in good humor, he’d rather not have to go explain to Dori how his brother tried to steal from an elf prince then was arrested, or try and beg the elven king to let him free. They were already on a time crunch as is.

When they finally neared the edge of the forest Thorin was not surprised when it was Kíli who lingered, “Thank you, Legolas,”

Thorin knew it was a silent goodby to the lad. He and the rest of the company waited at the end of the forest now.

“You are very much welcome my friend, you are all welcome back here by my invitation any time.” Legolas offered kindly.

“Really?” Kíli asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes of course. You know there is a guard captain I know, she talks about a-“ Legolas stopped and looked up at Thorin then smiled back at Kíli. “Her friend. Perhaps we can all get to know each other better”

Kili smiled and nodded. He turned to Thorin, who was very certain his sister’s son’s face might just split in half.Thorin sighed and nodded to the elf.

Legolas left them a moment later. The company paused to make sure they were ready, then the company set off once more, the shadow of Mirkwood slowly fading behind them.

Thorin’s mind, however, was already on the path ahead, focused on the time they had already wasted getting lost. Not to mention his hobbit. Bilbo was waiting for them in Rivendell.

The company had trudged along the rugged path, their footsteps began to slow as the hours passed. Thorin walked at the front now, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his mind still churning with worries.

They only had two ponies, and the meager supplies they had left wouldn't last them long.

"Beorn’s house is not far from here," Dwalin called from the back, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over them like a thick fog.

Thorin glanced back at the older warrior, then at Nori when he nodded in agreement. "Aye, Beorn," Nori added. "We all know he’s not one for guests, but he might make an exception for old friends… especially old friends of a hobbit in need…”

Thorin’s jaw tightened. He knew they had little choice. It was truly their only option if they were to see Bilbo.

The thought of his hobbit paled face, his labored breaths growing weaker was enough for Thorin to swallow pride. "Very well," he muttered. "We head for Beorn’s."

And the journey to Beorn’s cabin, though a little off track, wasn't more than a few hours away. It was silent as Thorin walked ahead, footsteps being the only noise.

With little else to do, Thorin's thoughts drift back to Bilbo. Thorin wasn’t sure when but he had come to admire his hobbit's courage and cleverness. Yet now, Thorin felt a strange ache in his chest when he was without him.

By the time they reached Beorn’s cabin, the sun had dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the clearing. The cabin stood sturdy and strong, an almost comforting sight. Almost.

Thorin’s eyes scan the surroundings for any sign of the skin-changer. A low growl from the woods made them all tense, hands instinctively reaching for their weapons.

But before they could do much else, a massive familiar figure emerged from the trees. Beorn, the skin changer was in his man form. towering over the dwarfs, glaring down at them intimidatingly.

“What brings you here?” His voice was a rumbling growl, deep and dangerous like thunder rolling through the hills.

Thorin stepped forward, his jaw clenched, and forced himself to bow his head slightly. Swallowing his pride was like swallowing broken glass, and he could feel the weight of the others’ stares on him.

“We need your help once again, Beorn,” he ground out, his voice tight. “We are short on supplies, and… Bilbo is in trouble. We must-”

At the mention of Bilbo, Beorn’s expression softened, just a fraction, and he grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong with the little bunny?”

Thorin’s frustration flared, a bunny his hobbit is not. “We received word he was hurt. We need to get to Rivendell.” Thorin all but growled out.

Beorn made a noise, something between a grunt and a scoff. “The elves will heal him better. What do you and your people expect to do?”

Thorin’s fists clenched at his sides, fury bubbling to the surface. His teeth ground together as he glared up at the towering man. How dare he? He was Thorin Oakenshield, not some wandering beggar!

“If you will not help us, then we’ll be on our way,” Thorin snapped, his voice sharp with barely restrained anger. He turned, ready to lead his company away. His pride had been battered enough for one day.

Beorn raised a bushy brow, clearly amused by the dwarf’s outburst. He grunted again before speaking. “You may stay, Thorin called Oakenshield, son of Thrain. But I’ll hear the whole tale. Start from the beginning.”

Thorin’s mouth was a thin line, his pride warring with the reality of their situation. He needed Beorn’s help, no matter how much it burned. “Fine,” he bit out. “Yes, Thank you.”

Inside the cabin, the company settled in quickly, grateful for the warmth and food Beorn had provided. But as much as Thorin should appreciate the food, and the warmth around him, he could not.

Thorin glared at the food Kíli had given him, he couldn’t eat as His stomach still churned with frustration. He felt his anger still simmering under his skin like a restless flame.

Thorin left to sit near the fireplace. The crackle of the fire did little to soothe him. He grabbed his pipe and began to pack it as he glared into the dancing flames.

He spilt some of his tobacco, and Throin felt his anger flare again. ‘Why must everything be a battle?’ He thought angrily.

The words of Beorn earlier still echoed in his mind. The skin-changer’s casual dismissal of them grated on his nerves more. Just as the smoke began to curl around him, Beorn sat near him.

“Tell me, Thorin,” Beorn rumbled, his voice still deep, he sounded curious as he spoke. “Why do you insist on traveling to Rivendell? The bunny is safe there.”

Thorin inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around his pipe. He didn’t want to have this conversation, not now. Thorin huffed and looked up at the skin-changer.

“He called for me… for us,” Thorin said, he couldn’t tell his tone was harsher than he should have used. “I sent Óin ahead. If you don’t remember him, he was the healer who traveled with us before-“

Beorn interrupted with a grunt of recognition. “Oh yes, I saw him from a distance. He was being escorted by a few elves, and passed through not too long ago.”

Thorin’s irritation faltered for a moment, as relief began flowing through him. He hadn’t realized how worried he really was until that moment. He exhaled, a small but genuine sigh of relief escaping him. “Good,” he muttered, nodding. “Good…”

But Beorn it seemed was not done yet. Thorin watched as the sink-changer crossed his arms. “You didn’t really answer my question. Why do you need to go? The elves are more than capable.”

Thorin gritted his teeth, feeling the urge to snap again, but something in Beorn’s eyes warned him off. He didn’t know what it was but the creature had an air about him.

“Because he asked for us,” Thorin repeated, more quietly this time, an uncomfortable feeling settled its way under Thorin’s skin now.

Beorn snorted. “Don’t lie to me, Dwarf. I may not know much about you, but I know when someone is lying.”

Thorin froze, caught off guard. He wasn’t lying, not really… So what did Beorn mean? Thorin felt his chest tightened as he looked up at the skin-changer.

He forced himself to look away, feeling heat rise and settle in his face. ‘Where is that pesky wizard when he’s needed?’ Thorin cursed silently.

“…I…” Thorin started, but the words caught in his throat. Why was he so intent on seeing Bilbo himself? And Thorin couldn’t answer that question, he couldn’t, he didn’t understand it himself, Thorin just needed to, he wanted to.

He tried to think of something to say as his hands fidgeted. ‘The truth, the real truth.’ Thorin did not know, he grit his teeth and sighed.

“I care for him,” he finally pushed out. “He is… my friend. I need to see him safe, with my own eyes.”

Beorn raised a bushy brow, then let out a rumbling chuckle that filled the room. “Ah, I see now,” he said, shaking his head as if amused by some private joke. “I will never understand that bunny or the company he keeps, but it seems dwarves hold just as many surprises.”

Thorin huffed, feeling the tension in his chest finally ease. He wasn’t sure what Beorn understood fully, but it didn’t matter. He kept his eyes trained on his feet.

Thorin tried to stop his hands from fidgeting so much. He tried to take a deep breath like Bilbo said to do when he got frustrated.

“He is more than he seems,” Thorin felt his mouth say, he couldn’t stop himself as he spoke. “Far more, I care for him, more than anything.”

After that Beorn left, and Thorin found himself alone with his thoughts once again. He stood and made his way outside to the garden.

He passed the flowers that were strangely enough still in bloom, Thorin was pleasantly surprised when they got to the land around the Cabin, it felt warmer than the area they came from.

He plopped himself down on a bench, he stared up at the stars that dotted the night sky. His thoughts raged loudly in his mind, and despite everything he had to think about, his mind decided on Bilbo. He felt his face warm once again.

His hobbit, when had he started calling Bilbo ‘his hobbit’? Does Bilbo think of himself as Thorin’s hobbit? Or does he think of Thorin as his Dwarf?

Thorin huffed and rubbed his face, he was sure if one could see him his face would be entirely red. Thorin leaned back against the bench and blew a smoke ring.

Bilbo had shown him how to do that, his hobbit was quite proud to show off and Thorin couldn’t help but find his hobbit so cute.

He didn’t want to admit it then, but now Thorin didn’t mind, he loved his hobbit, Thorin tried to remember when he had begun to think of Bilbo as cute too.

And in that moment, Thorin felt a strange sense of peace, a warmth spreading through him, then it hit him like a stone to the head.

He loved him, the feeling that had been there every moment he was with his hobbit, the loneliness when he wasn’t. He loves him, and he wasn’t going to let Bilbo go again once he had him back.

A day or two later the company was ready to leave Beorn’s house. It was decided that the mountain pass was too dangerous for Ponies.

Though without them the whole of the company would move far more slowly then they would like, but they would rather not have a repeat of Mirkwood.

When they left they’re packs full of provisions, Thorin hoped it was enough to make it to and through the mountains.

He looks to The Misty Mountains in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist given her namesake Thorin thought this not strange. The company trudged on.

The wind howled through the jagged peaks of the Misty Mountains, carrying with it the first icy bite of snow. Thorin Oakenshield narrowed his eyes against the biting cold, the chill seeping through his fur-lined cloak.

The mountain range loomed above them, her sharp, reaching peaks cutting into the billowing stormy sky. The path that lay before them was narrow and treacherous, snaking its way along the mountain, slick with a thin layer of frost.

Behind him, Dwalin and Nori trudged through the frigid winter that settled over them, their breaths coming as clouds in the air.

Thorin could feel a weight in his bones, a weariness that clung to him like the deep chill of the lost caverns beneath them. The cold nipped and bit at the small company like hungry wargs

Dwalin grunted as he tightened his cloak against the chill, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of one of his axes. “This weather’s turnin’ foul, Thorin,” he muttered, glancing up at the darkening sky. His voice was low, laden with concern. “We should find shelter, now.”

Thorin nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts churned almost sickly ’We’re moving too slowly, far too slow…’

‘Each moment lost in this storm brings us closer to danger, closer to the possibility of failure.’ He grit his teeth in an almost snarl The possibility of dying out here. Of never seeing his hobbit again.

The wind picked up, stinging his face with its icy flakes, it tore at his skin like vicious claws, Thorin had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly against the sudden blast.

His boot slipped and Thorin felt his stomach lurch as his eye snapped back open despite the sting. He caught himself just in time, gritting his teeth again as he looked ahead for Fíli and Kíli.

His sister’s sons had pushed ahead. Thorin felt his heart clench as he struggled to spot them. ‘I can’t let them get too far ahead,’ he thought. ‘The last thing we need is to lose one another in this cursed weather.’ He opened his mouth to call out to them, to demand they fall back, but before he could, Fíli stopped and turned to look at him.

Seeming to understand Thorin’s unsaid command, Fíli reached out, grasping his younger brother’s shoulder to halt him. Thorin felt a spark of pride toward the boy.

Kíli frowned, seemingly not like the idea of stopping, but a few whispered words from Fíli was apparently enough to convince him. They waited, their figures barely visible through the swirling snow.

Nori, who had, at that point, fallen toward the back of the group, pulled his hood further down, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Or what little he could likely see of it.

Nori’s shoulders squared and he glared much harder, Thorin began to wonder what Nori saw. “Aye, this storm’s no ordinary flurry,” Nori muttered, his voice tight with palpable unease. “It feels cursed.”

Thorin’s grip tightened on Orcrist’s hilt, he looked ahead in a silent agreement to Nori’s words. ‘We need to find cover before we’re caught out in the open,’ he thought grimly.

He turned his head back slightly, calling to Dwalin and Nori. “You’re right, we cannot push on like this. We’ll be buried if we’re not careful.”

As the words left his mouth, the wind rose to a furious howl, and the sky unleashed a torrent of snow. Thorin’s eyes widened in alarm as the storm escalated from a mere flurry to a blinding blizzard.

It took less then a moment and now thick and fast snowflakes attack them in, the ice whipped around them with a fury that made it hard to breathe, let alone see.

“Fíli! Kíli!” Thorin’s voice was nearly drowned out by the roar of the wind. He knew they were somewhere ahead, but the storm swallowed them in its blanket of white.

Panic clawed at him as visibility dropped, the path ahead disappearing into a white blur. The snow was falling so thickly now that it felt like they were being buried alive.

“Don’t move! We’re coming to you, understand?” Thorin shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation. For a moment, there was no response, only the relentless howling of the wind and the sting of ice against his face.

Fear tightened in his chest, the thought of losing his sister’s sons in this frozen wasteland unbearable. He almost trudged himself forward into the flurry.

Then, finally, a voice cut through the storm, it was hardly more than a wisper to Thorin over the howling wind and cutting ice. “Okay-okay, Uncle, be careful, the path gets thinner.” Fíli’s words, though strained, brought a flicker of relief to Thorin’s heart.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself as his hands stopped shaking ever so slightly. Thorin looked back at his two friends then nodded.

The group trudged forward, the snow crunching beneath boots. Thorin pushed through the biting cold and the unforgiving wind.

Thorin kept an eye on his other companions, he noticed how their movements were beginning to look sluggish, but they couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop and his companions wouldn’t let him run off alone.

Thorin’s heart pounded in his chest, louder than the wind howling in his ears, as he finally caught sight of a large rock jutting out in the path ahead.

It loomed like a dark sentinel in the white expanse, the path that he saw the boys take was barely wide enough for his toes to fit on and the rock looked slick and smooth, the edges of the path crumbling and slick with snow.

He reached for the only hand holds he could find, his hand finding perches as if second nature, began to inch his way past the jut of rock, his boots found precarious positions on the narrow ledge.

The ground beneath him felt unstable, threatening to give way at any moment. Then, without warning, his foot slipped, and he barely caught himself on the edge of the snow-covered ledge, his fingers digging into the icy ground.

Thorin’s hands struggled to find purchase, to grip onto the ledge, “Thorin!” The alarm in Dwalin’s voice was unmistakable, even as Thorin was dangling off the edge with wind making him haft deft.

Dwalin rushed forward, and dropped down the best he could on the narrow path and grabbed Thorin’s arm. With a strength mostly born of desperation, Dwalin heaved him up.

Thorin could distantly hear his sister’s sons calling out for him as they made their way closer.

Thorin’s heart raced as he was hauled back onto the path, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, he stayed as flush to the stone as he could manage, the cold seeping into his bones, before finally pushing himself to the other side.

Fíli and Kíli hovered over him as he stumbled to the other side, their worry etched in their faces. Thorin turned to the two boys and caught them both by the back of the head.

They both gripped his arm, “Uncle, are you alright?” Fíli asked, his voice tight and wavered slightly. Kíli, too, looked shaken, his usual bravado replaced with fear.

Thorin forced a reassuring smile, though his heart was still pounding and his hands slightly shaking. “I’m fine, lads,” he said, his voice unreasonably steady. “But we need to find shelter now.”

He brought their four heads to his own in a silent promise that he wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Reluctantly he relinquished his hold and the two boys

The boys kept hold of him though. “Fíli, Kíli- help Dwalin find us a spot to make camp. Nori and I will gather what we can for a fire.” Thorin said quickly he nodded the boys off and watched them leave, Dwalin patted his shoulder as they passed.

Nori and him moved not too far behind Dwalin and the two boys as they scouted ahead, as time went and Thorin was nearly certain that they would find no place of relief.

Their movements were beginning to turn sluggish and the snow fell thicker, faster, Fíli called out to the rest of the small company, there, nestled in the large cliffs faces was a small concave in the mountain. It wasn’t a cave truly but it did block the harsher winds.

As they worked to set up a makeshift camp, Nori had somehow managed to get a small fire lit before the world around them had been completely swallowed by white.

The Misty Mountains had truly turned foul, she had turned and now their only hope was to wait out the storm, while being buried alive in the unforgiving snow.

Thorin wasn’t a fool, he knew they might just die there, Thorin might never see his hobbit again, Bilbo might believe that Thorin simply doesn’t care for him- such thoughts made Thorin almost feel sick.

It had been almost a week of this, of cold nights and finding something to keep the fire alive, of Thorin watching as the snow fell relentlessly, piling higher, nearly burying the company in a cocoon of white. Effortlessly trapping them along the rock face.

Of the winds that howled like hungry wargs, Thorin thought it an almost mournful sound that seemed to seep into his bones, sapping what little warmth he had.

It was a particularly strange night as Thorin stood, he felt something was to happen. Then again maybe it was just his fatigue. it was well past any hour someone should be awake but he found himself unable to sleep, his mind wouldn’t allow it.

He walked towards Dwalin, the dwarf who had volunteered to keep watch that night, that placed him outside the range of the little fire they were able to keep.

He placed a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, “I believe you should take my place, I can watch” Thorin said quietly so as to not wake anyone.

Dwalin huffed at him, he rolled his eyes before saying, “Thorin, you need to rest, I said I can-“

Thorin put up his hand to silence the warrior. “I’ll stand guard for tonight.” Dwalin crossed his arms and looked back out into the icy void.

“I don’t like this Thorin, I feel like-“ Dwalin began to say but Thorin interrupted.

“Like something is going to happen? I feel it too…I will stand guard tonight, go” Thorin said, nodding to the camp when Dwalin looked at him.

“Thorin” Dwalin grumbled, but they looked away from each other when they heard voices.

“Uncle, what are you even watching for…?” Kíli whined, rubbing the sleep from his eye.

Fíli was already sitting up watching the two older dwarfs. He nodded at what his brother said before adding “nothing with haft a mind would come out in this.”

Apparently, Thorin wasn’t as quiet as he thought, “the lad’s right,” said Nori, he got up and walked over. He looked the two of them over. Thorin could at that moment truly see how he was related to Dori.

“You two should come away from the edge, warm yourselves and actually eat something“ Nori finally finished, he had his arms crossed.

“Man, Master Nori, you’re starting to sound like Master Dori!” Kíli said, apparently Thorin hadn’t been the only one to notice the family resemblance either.

Nori whipped his head around and glared half heartedly at Kíli. “Don’t ya dare joke about such a thing lad.” Nori said as he moved his hands so they were resting on his hips instead.

The boys laughed and Thorin smiled lightly, he looked back to Dwalin and nodded to Nori with a raised brow. Dwalin sighs when he gets up.

“He said it to both of us Thorin” Dwalin grumbled, he crossed his arms, Thorin patted his shoulder and pushed him towards the group.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll join you in a moment.” He told Dwalin who was already making his way into their makeshift camp.

Thorin sighed and sat, he dug around in his pockets pulling out his pipe, he huffed at his low supply of pipe weed.

Thorin packed and lit his pipe as he watched out into the abyss of white that swallowed the mountain side. His eyes narrowed against the blizzard that raged outside.

He had barely slept, his mind as consumed as the world outside. But his laid blank with worry, worry of food and freezing but worried thoughts of Bilbo weighed heaviest in his mind.

Thorin’s gaze drifted to the snowy expanse beyond their shelter then drifted further, as far as he could. ‘Has Óin found his way to Bilbo?’ Thorin wondered as he puffed on his pipe.

The pipe brought little relief to the cold of the storm, Thorin’s focus began to come back as he stared at the blinding cold, then a distant dark shape, barely visible through the snow came to view.

It moved erratically, struggling against the wind, the closer it inched the bigger it got and more Thorin was able to make out

Thorin squinted, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized the shape. It was a raven, but not just that, it was Hugin. He stood dropping his pipe not that cared for the moment and pushed himself outside into the storm.

‘Somethings terribly wrong.’ Thorin’s thoughts offered, ‘he should not be out in this- had he even made it to Rivendell?’ Thorin thought as he watched the raven.

Hugin’s flight was unsteady, Thorin could tell with no misplaced horror, that Hugins wings beat frantically, and that the raven may not know where he is, the young raven hasn’t ever flown in this type of weather before, most ravens refused such a fight.

“Hugin!” Thorin cupped his hands around his mouth as he called to the raven. He stepped farther out into the snow, his hand reaching out now for the young Raven. Hugin snapped his head up at his name.

A gust of wind pushed Hugin aside, and he struggled to recover but when finally reached Thorin, he ignored the hand as he crashed against Thorin’s chest in a flurry of black feathers.

Thorin caught the bird, cradling the raven close like a babe. He was suddenly struck by a memory remembered of when he was lad.

Thorin would often, when he had nothing to do, go and watch the ravens, his father had given him his own to watch after when his mother had gone.

It was that raven who had entrusted Hugin to Thorin, who he had promised that the raven would be kept safe in the shire, he shook his head and hurried back into the camp.

“Dwalin! Nori! Get some food and water!” Thorin commanded quickly as he laid the exhausted raven near the small fire.

He heard the others digging through packs to find something for the raven, Fíli and Kíli had moved to Thorin’s side to look at the raven, the lads hadn’t seen many of them yet. Or at least not close up.

Hugin’s feathers were ruffled, his eyes half-lidded as he panted heavily, Thorin could see a desperate gleam in them that sent a shiver down his spine. ‘Have I led this Raven to as worse perils as my kin?’ Thorin thoughts began to swirl.

But not for long as Dwalin was at Thorin’s other side, a strip of dried meat and a small bowl of water in hand. Thorin was focused on the word in front of him once again.

He took them quickly, offering them to the raven with a gentle care he had not used in a while. “Hugin, here, eat and drink,” he urged, his voice soft.

Hugin hesitated only for a moment before he began to eat, the raven’s movements were labored. Nori had come close finally and offered a blanket to Thorin.

Thorin waited for Hugin to take his fill of food and water before wrapping the raven in the warmth of a blanket, Thorin rubbed the bird's head gently.

“What, is a raven doin’ so far this way?” Dwalin asked

“This is Bilbo’s personal Raven, Dwalin he was meant to be in Rivendell, he was to deliver a letter, warning everyone of our arrival” Thorin felt himself say. He gently petted the raven.

“What? Uncle, what do you mean? If that is so why is he-“ Fíli asked quietly.

“I do not know…” Thorin hummed just as quiet.

Nori sighed and looked at the raven “Hugin?” He asked softly “What has brought you here?”

Hugin lifted his head, his beady eyes looking at Nori then locking onto Thorin. “Gandalf… Gandalf sent me,” Hugin croaked, his breath labored gasps “Bilbo… he’s not well. Óin says he’s not well, Gandalf sent me the second time they lost his pulse-he said, you’d be here in the mountains on the western face!”

Thorin’s heart lurched. Bilbo, his Bilbo, was sick and getting worse. The news struck him like a sword though the chest. For a moment, he could only stare at Hugin.

“Bilbo…” Thorin whispered, his voice barely audible. Thorin wasn’t sure if he was breathing, he wasn’t sure if he knew how, he felt very, very far away.

Thorin wasn’t quite sure how long he stood there- till Nori was bracing his shoulders, Thorin couldn’t make anything out really but he knew Nori’s lips were moving and that someone else had a hand on his black and chest.

All he could understand was ringing in his ears, and suddenly Thorin was getting shook. He followed the arms that were shaking him.

Dwalin raised a hand to pat his cheek, as his voice cut through the ring, “Thorin, just breathe lad, breathe-”

Thorin grabbed Dwain’s arm and squeezed it almost desperately, his head stopped spinning so much. “W-We have to move,” Thorin heard himself say, though his voice didn’t feel his own anymore.

Dwalin furrowed his brow and looked over Thorin’s shoulder behind him, “But the storm,” Dwalin looked back at him then to the boys Thorin knew weren’t far away from him.

Thorin forced himself to stand up to his full hight, he felt a bit of a dizzy spell hit him. “I won’t leave Bilbo alone-,” he replied,

“He’s not alone Thorin, Óin and Gandalf is with him, you heard Hugin”

“Dwalin- i refuse to leave Bilbo to suffer without me there, he never left my side, I should have never left his”

There was a moment of silence, the only sound Thorin could make out was his own heartbeat in his ears. Then, slowly, Dwalin nodded his head.

“Okay, alright we’re right behind you.” Dwalin looked up behind Thorin and nodded to everyone else. “Gather what you can,” he ordered. “We leave as soon as Hugin is strong enough to fly.”

Hugin let out a weak caw, making Thorin turn to look at him, the bird shook his head. “No… I’ll fly now. I’ll guide you through the worst of it,” he rasped.

Thorin hesitated a moment before he nodded. “Very well, Hugin. We’ll follow your lead.”

It took them only moments to pack what was necessary and then they found themselves back outside, facing the icy cold and harsh conditions.

The storm raged on as they all but dug themselves out from the snow that had basically buried their camp. It was grueling, each push, each step, each curse.

Thorin’s breath was coming in heavy puffs of steam that froze right back onto his face as he pushed through the blizzard. The cold was biting his face raw and the wind wailed in his ear, but he barely felt it.

“Keep moving!” Thorin shouted over the wind as the others followed him not far behind. “Stay close, and help each other through the drifts!”

The path was barely recognizable, buried under a thick layer of snow, but they pushed on, even as they basically sank into the snow with each step.

The wind tugged at Thorin’s cloak, the snow stinging his face, Dwalin and the others followed close behind him, helping each other as they struggled through the snowdrifts.

It was slow going, the snow was up to their knees in places, to their chest almost in others, but they didn’t stop. They couldn’t, even if they found somewhere to rest.

Hugin flew above them, his dark shape barely visible against the white sky. The raven fought against the wind, guiding them through the worst of the storm.

Hours had passed by the time, the sky began to darken and the last homely house of the elves came into view.

Thorin quickened his pace, his heart pounding loudly in his ears and as they crossed the bridge leading into Rivendell, the storm seemed to ease, as if the very presence of the elven haven was enough to push the raging storm away.

Throin did not slow though, even as he heard the others stagger into a heap in the courtyard, even as Thorn felt his legs want to give up or how his fingers were so cold it hurt to move them.

He was making his way up the stairs in front of him to look for Bilbo, he didn’t know where his hobbit was and he did not have time for any elven nonsense.

He was stopped abruptly by an elf with flowing robes, he couldn’t place the name and he honestly didn’t care to. The elf was followed closely by Tharkûn.

The elf offered a graceful bow that got Thorin glaring dangerously at the elf, “Welcome to Rivendell, Thorin Oakenshield. We’ve been expecting you-“

Thorin brushed past and interrupted the vaguely familiar elf, his eyes scanning the buildings in sight frantically for anything familiar.

“Where is Bilbo? Where is my hobbit!?” Thorin demanded loudly. He whipped around, glaring at the two immortals before him. “You called for me, and I am here. Now, where is he!”

“Thorin…” Gandalf began, stepping forward. His voice was unusually soft. “You cannot see him right now, he has fallen gravely ill. Please, trust me-”

“Tharkûn!” Thorin cut him off, his voice cracking as he looked desperately at the wizard. “Gandalf, do not lie to me. If-” His breath hitched, Throin balled his hands up into a fist as he let out a shaky sigh. “If my hobbit is dying, please, please, let me see him!”

Gandalf lowered his gaze, his silence more damning than words to Thorin. Gandalf sighed heavily. “Thorin…”

Before he could speak further, a sudden flutter of wings interrupted the conversation.

“I know the way, my king!” Hugin cried as he swooped down, he landed on the railing of the staircase. The bird was still panting from the fly down the mountain. “I’ll lead you.”

Without hesitation, Thorin rushed to Hugin, extending his arm for the bird to perch on. The juvenile raven’s talons gripped Thorin tightly as he took his place.

“Thank you,” Thorin muttered. “Lead the way.”

Thorin’s boots echoed loudly then he liked on the stone flooring of Rivendell as he followed Hugin’s directions, the dim halls casting crawling shadows.

Thorin could feel his heart in his throat as he ran down the incredibly unfamiliar halls, finally, they reached a door, Thorin seriously doubted if he would have found this place by himself.

Hugin flew from him and perched on the doorframe. “Here, here! I remember him being here.”

Thorin was quick to shove the door open, hard enough he was sure it would have broken. Inside, the room was dimly lit by a single lamp. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and medicine.

Óin, looking up quickly from leaning over the bed, glaring at whoever just nearly broke the door down, Throin briefly wondered how much the healer had slept or if he had at all.

“Mahâl Thorin!” Óin shouted. “You can’t be in here!” But Thorin barely heard him. His gaze was fixed on the small shap lying in the bed, nearly lost beneath the silky white sheets.

Bilbo’s face was deathly pale, his brow damp with sweat. The golden caramel curls, usually as neat as one could keep curls, were tangled and unkempt, and there was a bandage wrapped around Bilbo’s head.

Thorin’s chest tightened painfully. “Wha-? What happened?” Thorin demanded as he stepped forward to go to his hobbit.

“Thorin,” Óin warned, raising a hand as if to ward him off. “The lad’s been through it. He’s got a nasty head wound from a fall, and it caught an infection. He needs rest.”

Thorin’s fists clenched at his sides, every inch of him was screaming to be at Bilbo’s side. He took another step forward.

Óin moved to block his path more, he glared up at Thorin. “I mean it lad, listen to me Thorin, If you care for him, you’ll keep your distance.”

Thorin opened his mouth, to yell at Óin to get out of his way, but a faint voice stopped him. It weak and so soft Thorin was sure he misheard. Then he heard it again.

“Thorin…?”

It cut through Thorin’s anger like a hot knife. He pushed past Óin, reaching Bilbo’s side before the older dwarf knew what was happening. His hobbit’s eyes were half-open, glazed with fever that left his face red, Bilbo reached a hand up as he searched for him.

“I’m here, Bilbo,” Thorin said, his voice softening as he knelt beside the bed and gently took Bilbo’s hand in his own. The hobbit’s fingers were cool to the touch, and Thorin felt his heart ache. “I’m right here.”

Bilbo’s lips trembled into a faint smile. “Thorin… you made it,” he murmured. “I was worried… you wouldn’t.”

“We’re here, and we’re all safe,” Thorin reassured him, squeezing Bilbo’s hand lightly. “You’ve nothing to worry about now.”

Thorin glanced up at Óin as he made his way to the foot of the bed. “He’s fought hard, Thorin,” the healer said quietly. “… I had moments I thought-well…, he needs rest lad.”

Thorin nodded, though he didn’t take his eyes off Bilbo. “You need to sleep, Bilbo,” he urged gently. “Rest now, and I’ll be here when you wake.”

Bilbo’s eyes fluttered as he tried to resist, his grip on Thorin’s hand tightening ever so slightly. “Promise… you’ll stay?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Thorin’s chest tightened once again. “I promise,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Thorin’s words seemed to ease Bilbo’s mind, and slowly, his eyes drifted closed. Thorin watched Bilbo’s breathing evened out, his soft features relaxing.

After a while, when Thorin was sure that Bilbo was truly asleep, did he finally allow himself to breathe easily.

Óin approached quietly, placing a hand on Thorin’s shoulder. “You should rest too lad.”

But Thorin barely heard him. He was too focused on Bilbo, his heart still pounding. Unfortunately, exhaustion began to catch up with Thorin, the adrenaline ebbing away.

Thorin shifted to sit more comfortably beside the bed, his hand still holding Bilbo’s. The sheer relief of finally being at Bilbo’s side, washed over Thorin in waves, and before he knew it, his eyes began to droop.

As he drifted off to sleep, Thorin’s last conscious thought was of the hobbit beside him, ‘he’s safe’ his mind happily supplied, and to him now, that was all that mattered.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Last chapter really was supposed to go at the tail end of the second chapter but I didn’t want it to be that long and I had to split one chapter into two so think of it as a filler while I make sure that this chapter was really to go.

but also this chapter got out of hand but I can’t post this chapter in twos because the next chapter is the last of it and I really hope this chapter is good enough for now, I'll probably have to fix this later but whatever. Anyway, Have a good day/night.

@m4yh4ps @bllbabaggins

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #fanfic #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #dwalin #the line of durin #nori the dwarf #fili durin #kili durin #fili and kili #the hobbit bilbo #the hobbit thorin #thorin company #lord of the rings #beorn

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

Text

Well Met By Moonlight Part 7

Hello! It was a bit of a rough morning for me with the hate I got earlier. Maybe I could have worded it nicer, but I'm tired of gatekeepers that think everything ever has to be canon inspired, but if you have a difference of opinion about what is canon then them you're delusional.

And then my son nearly fainted at his school singing program this afternoon. He got sent home yesterday due to being over emotional at school (couldn't stop crying), but we thought it was just a bad mental health day. Apparently not.

So it was a little hard wanting to post today, even though I have a backlog of 15 chapters across 5 stories because I was feeling overly emotional.

So I hope you enjoy a little bit of sexy times for our boys. I told you I'd bring Eddie back sooner, rather than later.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

18+ Under the Cut

****

Eddie was in his room trying to nail down the bridge on a song he was writing when he heard a small scratching noise at the front door. He set his guitar aside and listened closely.

There it was again.

He wasn’t expecting anyone today. He got up warily and was at the door in an instant. He looked through the peephole and huffed out a laugh.

He opened the door and leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.

“You barely left me last night and you’re already at my door step again?” he teased.

There was that wolfie laugh Eddie adored so much.

“Come on in before the twins next door think you’re a doggy to play with and chase you all over the trailer park.”

Steve laughed again and Eddie shook his head, moving to the side to let his boyfriend in.

Steve shifted back to human and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck loosely. “Hey baby.”

Eddie purred. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Even though he knew that Steve being naked wasn’t a sexual thing, it didn’t stop him from grabbing that beautiful bare ass anyway.

He dived into Steve’s lips kissing and licking his way into that perfect mouth.

Steve’s arms tightened around Eddie’s neck, grinding against the hard planes his body. He wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist and let him carry him into the bedroom.

He kicked the door closed and proceeded to have his wicked way with him.

Once they had come several times and had finally wore themselves out, Eddie rolled over on his back and huffed out a laugh.

“I know you didn’t just come over to fuck,” he said, throwing his arm over his eyes, “so what’s the real reason for the visit?”

Steve laughed. “You are very distracting, you know?”

Eddie grinned. “It’s that ass, baby. I just can’t get enough.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said. He rolled over on his side to look at him. “You know how it was Josh’s first day with the pack?”

Eddie immediately straightened up and looked down at Steve. “Yeah? How did that go?”

“He’s a good kid and I don’t think we’ll have any problem with him,” Steve hummed.

“But...” Eddie asked, tilting his head forward.

Steve sat up and wrapped one arm around his knees. “When you were growing up did you have any days where the teachers would talk about supernatural kind? But not like on days the supernatural kids would be there?”

Eddie sat up too and frowned. He thought hard. “You know, now that you mention it, there were days like that. It was straight up bullshit, so I never really paid attention...” His eyes went wide. “Shit you don’t think that’s why Jason and them went apeshit, do you? The shit they were learning about on moon days?”

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know. It worries me that they’re getting anything like that at all.”

Eddie nodded. “I don’t know of anyone who’s not supernatural, not anymore.”

Steve lifted his head. “Yes you do. The drummer of your band, what was it called, Carrion Coffin or something?”

“Corroded Coffin,” Eddie gently corrected.

“That’s the one,” Steve said, snapping his fingers. “I know Jeff is a vampire like you and Brian is some other supernatural being...”

“Siren,” Eddie said, rubbing his chin. “I’ve always suspected Gareth might be a supe of some sort, but I could never confirm it.”

“But if he’s still going to school,” Steve said hopefully, “and not allowed to take moon days off due to whatever kind of supe he is, then he might be able to do some recon for us.”

Eddie nodded. “I have band practice tomorrow, I’ll ask. Maybe Brian remembers something, too.”

Steve sagged in relief. “Thanks sweetheart. I appreciate it. If the schools are indoctrinating kids against supes that might explain the rise in hunters over the last few decades.”

“Leading to whatever the hell it was that happened to you...” Eddie said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, because why a cross?” Steve said. “Crosses are vampire lore, not werewolf.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “I’ll talk to Wayne about it when he gets home. Maybe he can get more out of Patrick and Jason tomorrow, too.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve murmured. “That’s weight off my mind.”

Eddie grinned. “Now where were we?”

Steve laughed and then tackled his boyfriend back to his bed. He straddled Eddie’s waist. “You are insatiable, you know that?”

Eddie snapped his jaws at Steve playfully. “You love it.”

Steve moved up enough so that Eddie’s cock caught on Steve’s taint, causing Eddie to gasp.

“Oh, so that how you want to play it, pretty boy,” he growled, slowly pushing Steve backwards onto his cock until Steve bottomed out.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve whined. “I love the way you fill me.”

Eddie lifted him up and then snapped him back down his cock. “I love the way you look when you’re stuffed with my dick, sweetheart. I love the whimpering mess you become when I fuck you so hard. But you’re on top this time, so show me what you’ve got.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

He started off slow, allowing the drag of Eddie’s cock to come almost all the way out before slamming back down onto his hips.

“Like that, Stevie,” Eddie said his voice husky with desire. “Just. Like. That.”

Steve nodded. He kept up the slow pace, grinding up and down, touching his throat, his chest, his stomach, his thighs, everywhere but his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie cooed. “You putting on a show for me?”

Steve nodded, biting down on his lip. He ran his fingers through his hair and then back down his body.

Eddie was about to explode from the sight alone. His last ounce of control snapped and he flipped them over.

Steve let out a gasp of surprise. “Too much for you, rockstar?”

“Not even close to being enough, sweet cheeks,” he growled and then starting railing him hard and fast.

Soon Steve was spilling on his belly as he watched Eddie chase his own release.

Moments later Eddie was stock still as he filled Steve, his eyelashes fluttered shut and his breath came out in a shuddering sigh.

They were drenched in sweat, Steve was covered in come, and they both panted for breath.

Eddie slipped out and flopped on the bed next to Steve. “Fuck, I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Steve giggled. “Supernatural sex tends to be better because we have better stamina, strength, and flexibility then humans do.”

Eddie rolled on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Despite what this town thinks I was no blushing virgin coming into this relationship, babe. I’ve been with human, siren, and werewolf–” Steve opened his mouth to ask but Eddie held up his hand, “no one you know, I promise. This is at a supernatural bar in Indy. But I have never had sex like when I’m with you. It makes all the noise in my head fade to the background.”

Steve smiled. “I’m glad. And of course I’m completely gone on you, too, you know. I don’t it’s the type of supe you are that makes being with you so easy, the sex so good. It’s you.”

Eddie smiled dopeyly at Steve as he watched his boyfriend get up and head for the showers.

He cleaned up the bed and got dressed again. He was back working on the bridge he was working on before Steve came around, but this time with added clarity.

“Sounding good, Eds,” Steve said when he came back in.

Eddie grinned up at him. “Maybe I should have sex with you every time I’m stumped writing, I mean it about the clearing my head.”

Steve leaned down and gave him a kiss. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Eddie giggled. “Go on, pretty alpha boy. Your pack awaits.”

Steve laughed, skipping away lightly.

He opened the door and then transformed, leaping down the stairs. He tore down the road and Eddie just shook his head fondly as he shut the door behind his boyfriend.

Steve loved his wolf form. It was two-toned unlike most of his pack. The dark brown of his upper pelt and honey color of his muzzle, legs, and belly made him look more like an oversized friendly dog most of the time.

It made it easier to walk the streets of Hawkins without people batting an eye at him.

There were those that recognized him on sight, of course. But they never called him by his name, they always called out, “Sandy!”

Which always made him laugh.

“Hey, Sandy!” Mr Thacher called from his tire shop as Steve loped by.

Steve barked his hello and continued on way.

A little boy spotted him and Steve patiently sat still as he buried his face into Steve’s fur until his dad tugged on his hand to make him come with.

“Not now, Charlie,” his admonished. “You have a dentist appointment.”

Charlie sighed and allowed himself to be led away with a mournful, “Bye puppy.”

He finally got to the mayor’s office and grabbed the robe waiting by the door. He went into the bathroom and came out with the robe wrapped around his naked form.

Lucy, Major Roberts’s secretary, shook her head. “It’s damn shame that Mayor Roberts put that robe there for you.”

Steve laughed. “You just like looking at my ass.”

She pretended to be affronted. “Darling, it’s your thighs!”

Steve laughed again. “Is he able to see me right now?”

She nodded. “I’ll buzz you in.”

“Mr Harrington!” Mayor Roberts greeted, standing up to shake his hand. “What an unexpected pleasure, how can I be of service?”

Steve sat down and told him everything Josh had told him and his discussion with Eddie about the possibility of anti-supernatural rhetoric being taught in the schools.

Mayor Roberts nodded. “I was aware there was extra-curricular subjects being taught on moon days, as the teachers can’t teach their subject to only half their class. But I don’t think I ever thought about what was being taught.”

Steve nodded. “If we can find the source here in Hawkins maybe we can get it changed on a national level.”

“Thereby stopping the rise of hunters in the country,” Mayor Roberts agreed. “I’ll look into it. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Steve nodded again. “Of course. Thank you for your time.”

They shook hands and Steve was slipping through the door as wolf, the robe carefully carried in his jaw.

Lucy laughed. “Sneak!” she teased.

Steve put the robe back on the hook and looked at her innocently.

Mayor Roberts laughed. “He got you good there, Lucy.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, yeah.”

And with that Steve slipped out of the mayor’s office and back out onto the street.

He shook himself off and the broke into a run. He had a lot to think about but first he had one more stop to make.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @bookbinderbitch @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @anaibis @she-collects-smut @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 month ago

Text

Part 4, Chapter 2

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 4

Chapter 2

“Matt!” Foggy clambered to his feet from where he’d been sitting on the tiled floor outside the apartment. He grabbed Matt in a hug, and thumped his clenched fist against Matt’s back a few times for good measure.

“Hey, Fog,” Matt said wearily.

“‘Hey Fog’?” Foggy repeated. “I might not have seen you in five years, and all you got is ‘Hey, Fog’”

“It’s not been five years,” Matt said, unlocking his apartment door. “I saw you yesterday - and you saw me then too. You returned today, just like I did.”

“How do you know? How do you always know these things?”

“I went by the office.”

“Oh. You mean the office that is now a frickin’ beauty salon?!”

“Apparently.”

“Holy shit, was that wild,” Foggy elaborated. “One minute I’m sitting at my desk, and the next I’m on my ass because the desk is no longer there, and I’m surrounded by a bunch of screaming Vietnamese women.”

Matt huffed out a laugh, the visual momentarily raising his mood. But only momentarily.

He was glad to see his friend was okay, but he wanted - he needed - to know what had happened to Calina, and he was running out of means to do so.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, and asked Foggy about the third member of their team. “You heard about Karen?”

“Yeah,” Foggy said sadly. “She stayed behind.”

“What about Marci?” Matt asked, hoping his Foggy wasn’t going through the same hell he was.

“She disappeared with us. I went to our apartment first - she was working from home this morning, and she was still there.” Foggy’s voice wavered slightly as he said the last sentence, his relief palpable. “Her parents rushed over right away, so I left to give them some space to reconnect. What about Calina?”

Matt shook his head. “I- I don’t know. She’s not next door. She’s not here. She’s not in any of the places I’ve checked. The internet’s down-”

“The internet’s down?” Foggy checked the display on his phone. “Shit, I thought it was just me.”

“No. The servers crashed apparently. So I have no idea how to look for her, Foggy. I don’t know if she returned and got hurt somewhere, or if she never disappeared in the first place. If she stayed, she could be anywhere. Five years is a long time, man, and she could be-”

“Hey,” Foggy interrupted. “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. The first step is figuring out if she disappeared. The moment the internet is back up we’ll start looking for her. In the meantime, sit down and take a minute, you look wrecked, man. Did you even sleep last night? In 2018, I mean?”

Matt remembered back to the night before. To the restaurant. To tailing Cross and Ranieri, and staying out until dawn. To the fight with Calina…

Jesus, had that only been last night? Less than 12 hours ago?

It felt like another lifetime.

Matt took Foggy’s advice, suddenly feeling exhausted. He collapsed onto the couch, the movement dislodging the layer of dust coating the unused piece of furniture. Matt coughed as the particles swirled in the air, and frowned as he heard plastic crinkle beneath him. He smoothed his hand over the couch, and realised it was covered in some sort of protective wrapping.

“Weird,” Foggy said, commented on the same thing. “Your stuff’s all still here. Its covered in sheets and plastic…but it’s still here.”

Matt shrugged. “Maybe the landlord couldn’t rent the place out again?”

“But why would he give a shit about your stuff? Why didn’t he toss it on the street or give it to Goodwill?”

Matt stood up again and wandered around the apartment, cataloguing the contents. Foggy was right, everything was still here, just as he’d left it. His phone charger was still plugged in by the radiator. His toothbrush was still in the bathroom. His clothes were in the closet. His alarm was on the bedside table…

But there were no signs of Calina. The book she keep by the side of the bed was gone. The silky robe that hung in the bathroom - gone. The running shoes she stashed by the front door - gone.

“Matt?” Foggy called out. “I’ve got something.”

“What is it?” Matt asked. He found Foggy standing in front of the small bureau in the living room, rifling through a pile of papers.

“Electricity bills, water bills…all for this address, all in the name of Calina Balashova. And-” Foggy sucked in a breath.

“What?”

“The deed for the apartment. Matt…she bought this place. In 2019.”

2019.

“She stayed,” Matt whispered. Part of him had known it all along, but the actual confirmation was a gut-punch.

She’d stayed.

He’d disappeared, and she’d stayed here. For five years. Without him.

Which meant she wouldn’t be walking in the door any minute, lost and confused like he was. She could be literally anywhere. Anywhere in the fucking world. She could be completely off the grid. She could be with someone else. Married, even…

She could be-

“We’ll find her, Matt,” Foggy assured him, obviously sensing Matt’s spiral. “As soon as we can get back online, we’ll find her.”

“But what if…,” Matt replied, his voice shaking as he tried to articulate his deepest fear. “What if she’s not even ali-”

“No! Don’t even go there. Don’t think the worst. Look, why don’t you pack a bag and come stay with me and Marci while we sort this out.”

“No. I think I need to stay here,” Matt replied. Calina had bought the place for a reason. Maybe she’d come back. He’d have to be here when she did. He opened his mouth to try to explain that to his friend but paused as he heard a noise in the stairwell. He cocked his head, zeroing in on the sound.

“What is it?” Foggy asked.

Matt recognised the cadence of the steps and the sound of the person’s breathing. He may not always know Karen by scent, but she was recognisable in other ways. “We have a visitor.”

He walked to the front door and pulled it open just as she reached it. Her tall body collided with his as she threw herself at him. Her long, slender arms wrapped around his neck and she buried her head in his neck.

Matt stroked his hand down her back, feeling the tremors racing through her. Hot, wet tears stained his shirt as she cried against him. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

She pulled back, wiping her hand across her face. “I’m sorry, I tried to keep it together all the way here, but I just-” she broke off on a sob.

Matt pulled her back into the hug and held her as she continued to weep. It was still so hard to fathom that he’d lost five years, but Karen’s reaction was making it feel very real.

Eventually, her tears ran dry, and she stepped out of the embrace. “Hi, Matt,” she said, letting out a watery laugh.

“Hey, Karen.”

“I came back too, ya know,” Foggy said with mock disgruntlement.

Karen jerked at the sound of his voice. “Foggy?”

“In the flesh.”

She gave Foggy the same long, crushing hug. When it was over, Foggy wiped the fresh tears from her cheeks. “Long time no see, I guess,” he joked.

The look she gave him must have been withering, because Foggy held up his hands in remorse. “Too soon?”

“Yes, Foggy. Too soon. Way too soon.”

“Sorry.”

Karen shook her head. “It’s okay. I…I just feel a little raw, you know. I bet you guys feel the same way - but for very different reasons.”

“You could say that,” Matt answered.

“You both must be so confused. I’m sorry I wasn’t here in the city when you first came back. I wanted to come as soon as I heard, but I couldn’t get a sitter at first. Then there was traffic on the Queensboro bridge and I had to go through the tunnel-”

“Wait, back up,” Foggy said. “Sitter? Does that mean…?”

Karen nodded, and Matt could hear the pride in her voice. “I’m a mom, now. I have a little girl.”

———

Half an hour later, when all the furniture was uncovered, the dust cleared from the surfaces, and the three of them were sitting around Matt’s kitchen table eating take-out, Karen told them about her 21-month old daughter, Izzy.

“It’s short for ‘Isabelle’. It was David's mother’s name. She died when he was young, and he wanted to honour her memory.”

“So David’s the father?” Foggy asked. “Are you guys married?”

“We were. Briefly. Things, um, didn’t work out. He’s not really a part of Izzy’s life.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt said.

Karen shrugged. “I have Izzy. And we’re happy together. She’s amazing. Just so…joyful. Every day she learns something new, and I learn what kind of person she’s going to be - her personality is really starting to shine through, and its wonderful.”

Foggy reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. “I’m really happy for you, Karen.”

“Thank you. I’m not saying the last five years haven't been awful, but I was one of the lucky ones, you know? I found a reason to keep going. To keep hopeful about the future.”

“Can you tell us about the last five years? About what happened?” Matt asked gently - he was desperate for more answers, but could sense it was a deeply traumatising subject.

Karen took a deep breath. “You don’t know?”

“Just that it had something to with someone named Thanos.”

“Yeah,” Foggy added. “Marci’s parents started to explain, but they just kept breaking down in tears. And with the internet down, we’re in the dark ages, information-wise.”

“Wow,” Karen said. “It- it’s so hard to know where to start. Thanos has loomed so large in all of our lives for so long. It’s so strange to think that you don’t even know who he is.” She launched into an explanation of infinity stones, and the all-powerful alien obsessed with using them to bend the universe to his will. It would have sounded fantastical and far-fetched on any other day, but not today.

Not after what Matt had experienced this morning.

And the matter-of-fact way Karen - his no-nonsense, intelligent and rational friend - recited the information convinced Matt of it's truth.

“None of us knew what had happened at first,” she went on. “Everyone just started disappearing. I was on a coffee run - do you remember Foggy?”

“Yeah, you said you were sick of burnt coffee and wanted something frothy and delicious.”

“Yeah,” Karen whispered. She was quiet for a few moments, as if reliving the time in her life where her biggest concern was a caffeinated beverage. “I was on my way back from the coffee shop when the man walking towards me just…disintegrated. Turned to dust. I stood there, frozen in the street, as more and more people vanished. And it was quiet. So eerily quiet, at first. There were no screams, no cries for help. Just dust in the air. And I waited there, on the sidewalk, heart pounding, for it to happen to me. But it never did.”

“Then what happened?” Foggy asked.

Karen laughed wryly. “Then it was anything but quiet. It was pandemonium. Planes fell out of the sky. There were blackouts across the city. The rioting started soon after that. Then the mass suicides - the evangelicals thought it was the rapture, and that they’d been left behind. The vice president had to step in because the President disappeared, and she ordered martial law on the streets. When we finally got news out of Wakanda-”

“Wakanda?”

“That’s where it all went down. We found out it wasn’t the rapture, or some chemical weapon, or any of the hundreds of other theories that flew around those first few days. It was just some megalomaniacal asshole from another planet who’d decided that the way to solve the universe’s problems was to eradicate half of it. Half of everything - every person, every animal, every insect - just gone, with one snap of his fingers.”

Karen went quiet again, as if reliving the trauma. Matt tried to imagine what it must have been like at the time - the confusion, and panic and fear.

Probably not so different from this morning. And it made him wonder which scenario was worse: watching those around you disappear…or being one of the returned, suddenly thrust back into a world that had moved on without you.

“Sorry,” Karen said after a few long moments of silence. “Like I said, it’s so strange to talk about it. Up until this morning, every adult on the planet had lived through it. And we never really discussed it much. It was always there - the grief, and the loss - but everyone tried to ignore it. Even though we knew it was probably eating us away from the inside.”

Matt took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it anymore today. Me and Foggy have plenty of time to find out the rest by ourselves. But…”

“What is it?”

“Do you know anything about Calina?” Matt asked, figuring it was a long shot. Karen and Calina hadn’t been close back in 2018. They’d gone shopping together once, and had been friendly to each other around the office, but Calina had always been closer to her Widow sisters. “Do you know where she is?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Matt frowned. Karen’s words seemed truthful. And her tone was sympathetic. But there was something off about the way she said it…and the way she was shifting slightly in her seat. “What aren’t you telling me? Is she okay? Is she- is she still alive?”

Karen started in surprise. It was her turn to squeeze Matt’s hand. “Yes. I’m sorry, Matt. Yes, as far as I know, she’s alive.”

Matt frowned again. “As far as you know? What does that mean?”

“Sorry, I’m messing this up. I don’t know what to say-”

“Just say the truth, Karen.” Matt tried to control the anger creeping into his voice. But he didn’t know why Karen was being so cagey about this.

“I just meant that I haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks. And what she’s doing is often dangerous-”

“Dangerous? Why? What is she doing?”

“She’s a Black Widow again, Matt.” Karen’s voice was soft, gentle. As if she knew the news would be a blow to Matt.

And it was. Matt stood up from the table, the plates and glasses rattling with the sudden movement. He backed away, shaking his head. “She- she was out. She was out of that life. She didn’t want it anymore.”

The Calina of yesterday - his yesterday - didn’t want to fight anymore. She didn’t want a life of violence and danger. She was going to be a translator. She was going to help people with her other gifts. And she’d been happy with that choice. More than happy - she’d been excited about finally finding her purpose in her new life.

“Matt, the world needed her,” Karen explained. “It needed the Widows - the ones who were left, anyway. Most of the Avengers disappeared, and it was all hands on deck to try to keep civilisation from completely collapsing. That first year…it was bad. It was really bad - all across the world. So she suited up again. The UN scrapped the Sokovia Accords, granted the Widows full immunity, and they’ve been out there all this time helping to keep everyone safe.”

Matt stood still, head bowed, hands on his hips, as he tried to process how much Calina’s life had changed these past five years.

“Can you call her?” Matt asked, not even trying to disguise the pleading in his voice. “Please? I need to know she’s okay.”

“I don’t have a way to contact her,” Karen replied. “Its safer for her that way. She checks in with me every few weeks-”

“She didn’t call today? When this all happened?”

“No. But when she does, I’ll tell her to come to New York. I promise, Matt.”

———

Karen left shortly after, needing to get back home to her daughter. Matt cleared away the plates and stowed the leftovers in his fridge. He grabbed the last two remaining bottles of beer and passed one to Foggy. Then, in unspoken agreement, they both collapsed on to the couch, as if needing to sit with the enormity of it all for a while. Silence reigned as they sipped on the drinks, both of them feeling a little shell-shocked by the events of the day.

Foggy placed his empty bottle on the coffee table, the clink of glass meeting wood the only sound heard for the past half an hour. “It’s fucking crazy, man. It’s just…crazy.” He shook his head. “Five years. Five YEARS.”

Matt laughed, a choked-off, bitter sound. It seemed the safest response - the alternative was to scream. Or punch a hole in the wall. “Yeah.”

“Five years!”

“I know.”

“What do we even do now? Do we exist, like from a legal standpoint? What about our bank accounts and credit cards? If Karen hadn’t bought dinner tonight, would we have starved?”

“We wouldn’t have starved,” Matt responded, laughing in humour this time.

“But what about our careers? Can we still practice law? I don’t even know who the District attorney is. Fuck, I don’t even know who the President is!”

“Foggy, relax. Those are relatively easy problems to solve in the grand scheme of things. Once we get back online we can find out all those answers. You have a roof over your head, you have Marci, you have your friends. Everything else will sort itself out.”

“Yeah,” Foggy said, calming down a bit. “Shit. I’m sorry, man. Here I am stressed about legalities, and you’re still in the dark about Calina.”

“I know she’s alive. Or, at least, she was, up until a few weeks ago.”

“That’s something.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them sounded convinced. Matt especially - because until he could ‘see’ her in person, and know that she was truly safe and unharmed, he wouldn’t be at peace.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to mine?” Foggy asked. “I don’t feel right just leaving you here alone.”

“It’s fine. You need to get back to Marci. I’ll be fine. I need to go out anyway.”

“You’re going out as Daredevil? Tonight?”

“Of course.”

“There’s no ‘of course’ about it, Matt. You’ve had a major, life-altering shock today, and you haven’t slept in, what, 36 hours?”

“About that.”

“I don’t think anyone - not even the Almighty himself - would blame you for taking the night off.”

Matt opened his mouth to argue...but found himself nodding instead. Saying he was going out on patrol had been more of a reflex than anything else. When the truth was, for the first time in a long time, Matt didn’t want to suit up. He didn’t want to fight tonight. He didn’t want to wade back out into the chaos. He knew he should - that it was his duty and his responsibility - but he couldn’t find the strength to do so.

And it had nothing to do with a lack of sleep.

He wanted - just for tonight - to be selfish. He wanted to stay in the familiarity of his apartment and wallow for a while in the absolute fucking unfairness of it all.

Five years.

He kept coming back to those two little words. Like Foggy, he just couldn’t comprehend that timescale.

Five years.

He’d lost five years of his life.

No. Five years of his life had been stolen from him. Then he’d been dropped back into this new and foreign world to flounder and flail in confusion.

Five years of his life…gone in an instant.

And he knew he wasn’t the only person dealing with this tonight - half the universe was, apparently. But that didn’t bring much comfort. Because while the event was the same, the individual circumstances were unique to each and every person.

And his unique circumstances just straight-up fucking sucked.

He’d lost Calina. The woman he loved more than life itself. The woman he was planning a future with just yesterday…

A future that had been ripped away.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe with missing her. With worrying about her. With wondering what her life had been like these past five years, and what she was doing right at this moment.

Was she missing him, as much as he was missing her?

Was she safe?

Was she hurt?

Was she even alive?

———

7000 miles away, in a medical facility in Wakanda.

The doctor addressed the tall red-head, still dressed in blood-splattered black leather. “You need to decide now. The longer we wait, the less chance there is of the treatment working.”

His voice was calm and measured - a stark contrast to the chaos behind him. The wounded from the fight this morning had been arriving all day, the sparking yellow circles providing a shortcut between the high tech medical facility in Africa and the scorched battlefield in upstate New York.

The shouts of the medical personnel, the cries of the injured, and the screaming alarms of the machinery made it hard for Anya to think. But she knew what was right for her friend. “Do it.”

The petite Widow at her side protested. “But she’ll be unconscious for weeks!”

“What’s the alternative, Inessa? You heard what he said - her legs are completely crushed. Without this treatment, they’ll have to be amputated.”

“But she doesn’t even know that we’re back - that everyone came back. That Matt came back! She deserves to know that before she’s put in a coma for a month!”

“Look at her legs, Inessa! There’s no amount of morphine in the world that will spare her from that pain. We wake her up now, she’ll be in too much agony to think about Matt. The shock might even kill her!” Anya turned back to the doctor, patiently waiting by the side of the pod. “Do what you have to do to save her. Please.”

The doctor nodded and pressed the button, sealing up the pod.

A mist of medicated air filled the device, obscuring Calina from view.

————–

Chapter 3

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #matt murdock #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc #daredevil fandom

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hbyrde36 · 1 year ago

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 4

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

“You wanna tell me about your little visit to the Harrington place last night?” Hopper asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Eddie looked down at the clothes in his hand, he’d clearly been caught red handed, but he couldn’t just admit to it, could he?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie deadpanned.

“Seriously? Don’t give me that shit, Munson!”

“Jim..” Wayne said. A clear note of warning in his voice.

Eddie grinned. “You gonna arrest me, Hop?”

The chief sighed heavily. “You steal anything?”

“No” Well, unless you count an outdated catalog and a dead boy’s jacket..

Hopper nodded to himself, as if he had known that already but still had to ask. “No. I'm not here to arrest you, but you can’t go around doing shit like this, It’s not safe!” Eddie couldn’t help but notice Hopper sharing a quick, but very loaded look with Wayne, before he continued. Weird. “What were you doing there?”

Eddie glanced at the kids, who were still sulking and looking everywhere but at him.

“Don’t look at them, I asked you a question.” Hopper snapped.

“If I'm not under arrest, I don’t see why I have to answer you.”

Apparently, Wayne had had enough. “Boy, if you don't start talking, I’M gonna put you in handcuffs.” He said, raising his voice to a level Eddie hadn't heard before.

“Okay, fine! It’s not a big deal. I knew the house was empty and I thought I'd check it out. That’s all, I was just curious.”

“Right. So you weren’t off on some vigilante mission to solve the Harrington kid’s disappearance?’

Eddie whipped his head around to look at the kids. So that’s why they were sulking. Fucking traitors spilled the beans.

“If you already knew then why pull the whole cop routine?”

Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose, mouthing along as he silently counted to ten. “Do you think the feds havn’t scoured every inch of that place? Looked into every possible scenario?”

Eddie shrugged. “They didn’t talk to Nancy Wheeler.”

“Why would they talk to her?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Eddie began, tone absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe because they dated only a couple months before he went missing? Don’t you find that odd, Chief?”

Hopper sighed again, all of his hardass pretense falling away. “Maybe, kid, but it's out of my hands.”

He picked up his hat off the coffee table and moved towards the door, pausing for a moment with his hand resting on the latch. “They really never talked to her?” Hopper asked, turning again to face the room.

“No, she told us herself when we interviewed her.” Dustin helpfully supplied.

“Jesus christ.” Hopper breathed. “This ends now, you hear me? I don’t want to see any of you poking around where you don’t belong. If that boy is still out there somewhere, well, we’re just going to have to trust that the government will find him. The rest of us will just have to wait and see.”

With that, he finally took off. Leaving Eddie to deal with his uncle and the boys alone..

Eddie shuffled his feet. It was one thing to mess around with the chief, but he loved his uncle and he didn't like disappointing him.

“Wayne, I'm sorry. I..”

“We’ll talk later. Ok, son?” Wayne interrupted, but not unkindly. “I gotta get a few hours of sleep in me before I can deal with this.” He didn’t wait for a response, just set off in the direction of his room.

Eddie rounded on the boys, ready to start pointing fingers. “What were you guys thinking? Why would you tell Hopper about our investigation?” Jesus, he sounded just like them now. Investigation, pfft.

“He cornered us this morning at Will’s!” Mike said, defensively.

“Yeah! Come on, Eddie. You know he’s dating my mom now. What were we supposed to do? He had your vest!” Will pleaded.

“Maybe if you had told us what you were doing we could have thought up an excuse.” Mike accused.

“Alright, alright. It's fine. I’m not mad. Just, I guess that’s it then.”

“What?! We can’t give up now!” Dustin argued.

“Yea, forget Hopper. Did you find anything last night?” Lucas asked eagerly.

Eddie thought of Steve’s room, and the items he had safely tucked away in his own. He didn’t like lying to the kids, but there was no way they’d drop this thing if he told them. It was all too weird. Even if he had no intention of listening to Hopper himself, he could at least keep the kids out of it.

“No, nothing. Place was empty.”

All of them but Dustin groaned in unison, murmuring some form of ‘got in trouble for nothing’ and ‘waste of time’.

“Come on, i’ll drive you little shits home” Eddie offered, motioning them all to the door. The least he could do was get the kids out of the house so his uncle could get a good day's sleep.

Unsurprisingly, the boys were able to convince him to take them to the diner before shuttling them home. It was an easy sell since he hadn’t had any coffee or breakfast yet that day. Dustin was subdued, which should have been Eddie’s first clue that something was up, but he was too lost in his own ruminations to think anything of it.

Later, once the others had been dropped off, Dustin cleared his throat loudly from the passenger seat. He was staring daggers into the side of Eddie’s head.

“What??”

“Are you gonna tell me what you really found at Steve’s, or are you gonna try and lie to me again?” Dustin spat.

Eddie scowled but didn't even try to argue, just turned the van around and drove them back towards the trailer park. He should have known Dustin would see right through him. Not only were they cousins, they were also best friends. Maybe if he begged, the kid wouldn’t tell the others.

The pair quietly slipped into Eddie's room, careful not to make too much noise and wake up Wayne. Once inside, Eddie softly told Dustin the whole story, pulling out the catalog, the jacket, and finally the photo from his wallet.

“I don’t know what any of it means but..” Eddie trailed off.

“It’s weird.” Dustin added, finishing the sentence for him.

A few beats of silence went by between them, where Dustin kept looking from the jacket, emblazoned with the name Harrington across the back in big bold letters, to Eddie’s face. The kid’s mouth was screwed up in the way it always did when he was on the verge of figuring something out, like a particularly difficult homework assignment, or the best way to defeat an opponent in combat.

“Did you.. like Steve?” Dustin asked.

Eddie tensed. It was the last thing he was expecting, so even as he tried to play it off, he knew it wouldn’t be convincing. “Sure, like I said, he was an okay guy.”

Of course Dustin didn’t buy it, or let it go. “No, I mean, did you have like, a crush on him or something?”

Eddie made a high strangled noise in his throat, which Dustin didn’t seem to notice.

“It's just, I couldn’t help noticing how your face got when Nancy talked about him yesterday, and I mean, taking this?” Dustin lifted the jacket up between them as if it were a damning piece of evidence in a murder trial.

Eddie paled. “Dustin, you can't just ask people shit like that. It’s not..it’s not safe to be openly different, and if someone wants you to know, that, about themselves, they will tell you when they’re ready.”

Dustin's face fell. “Shit. I'm sorry.” It sounded like he meant it, as it the gravity of what he’d implied by asking had just occurred to him.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it. I do trust you, Dusty, it's just that you’re a kid still.”

“I would never tell anyone, cross my heart.”

“I know.”

“Does that mean..?”

“Yea, buddy. I’m…gay. Wayne knows. He's the only person I ever told. He’s good with it.”

Dustin lurched forward, hugging Eddie around the middle. “Thanks for telling me.”

”You’re welcome.” Eddie chuckled, as if the kid had given him a choice. He had always thought Dustin would be okay with who he was, he just hadn’t been quite ready to go there yet. Now though, he was glad. He felt lighter, happy that another important person in his life knew the full truth of him.

“So, Steve huh?” Dustin asked, smirking.

“Oh, shut up man!” Eddie groaned, picking up the nearest pillow and flinging it in Dustin's face. The two of them immediately dissolved into hysterical laughter.

They must have been a little too loud because Wayne came knocking a few minutes later.

“You boys hungry?” He asked, pushing the door open a little.

Eddie quickly shoved Steve’s jacket behind his back. Not suspiciously at all. “I thought you had to work tonight?”

“I called out, figured I should keep an eye on you tonight after this morning’s debacle.” Wayne answered.

“You don’t have to babysit me, I won’t do it again, I swear.” Eddie begged, mortified at being treated like a nine year old.

Wayne raised his eyebrows. “Dusty, if you’re going to stay you better go call your mom. Ed and I need to have a little talk.

Dustin didn’t need to be told twice, and all but sprinted out of the room.

Wayne stepped further inside and shut the door, leaning against it.

“I’m sorry Wayne, I swear I wasn’t breaking-in, breaking in. I was just curious and the kids talked me into it and..”

“I know, okay? And I’m not mad. I’m not thrilled that you were out there sneaking into someone's house like a common criminal, but I know you weren’t looking to steal anything. I’m sure it’s been hard, and I know you're curious about what happened to that boy but…I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do anything to draw attention to yourself.”

“Have you met me?”

“Yes, Ed. I have, and that's sort of what I'm getting at here. You already go around looking all flashy like you do with the hair and the chains and what-no, and you know I'd never tell you to not be yourself, but there's bad people out there. I just worry about you, is all.”

Oh. Is that what this was about? Was uncle Wayne worried he was going to be gaybashed in jail or something if Hopper hadn’t let him off with a warning?

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but please be more careful.”

When school started up again on Monday Eddie arrived at his locker to find Dustin already waiting for him. The younger boy shoved a paper under his nose as he worked the combination lock.

“What am I looking at here?” Eddie asked, squinting at the too-close writing.

“I made a list, places Steve used to frequent.”

Eddie sighed, wrenching the locker door open and swapping out textbooks. “Like what?”

“Well school, obviously, but more specifically his locker, the gym, and the pool. Also, and these came from Nancy, the drive in, Enzo’s, skull rock, and the junkyard, weirdly.

“So, here, three make out or date places, and the junkyard? This is…not a lot to go on.”

Dustin shrugged. “That's all I've got for now, I'll let you know if I come up with anything else.”

“No, you won't.” Eddie said, shoving a finger into his cousin’s chest. “You and the rest of the party are officially staying out of this from now on. I'll let you know what I find out but that’s all.” He snatched the paper out of Dustin's hands and stalked off down the hall before the kid could argue.

The locker was a good idea, but Eddie already knew it was a bust. Steve’s locker had only been a few down from Eddie’s own, and he knew it had been given to someone else last year. Maybe he could ask the ladies in the office what happened to all the stuff that must have been in there, or check the lost and found.

He looked down at the list, thinking, as he stepped around a corner and almost barreled right into Chrissy Cunningham. He stopped himself in time but she still jumped back, startled, and he had to grab her by the shoulders to keep her steady.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You okay?” He asked, looking her over.

“I’m fine!” She said, laughing and pressing a hand to her chest. “And wide awake now, so actually I should thank you for that. I hate mondays.”

“Happy to be of service.” Eddie said, grinning.

He’d always liked Chrissy. She was sweet and kind, unlike her other cheerleader counterparts. Much like he and Steve, they weren’t quite friends, but sometimes they would talk. She treated him like a person, not the freak everyone else thought he was. The comparison gave Eddie an idea.

“Hey, this might be a weird thing to ask, but were you friends with Steve Harrington at all?”

“Only a little, but we ran in the same circles, and we were neighbors. Why do you ask?” She said, tilting her head to the side.

The bell rang and suddenly Eddie noticed that the hall around them had emptied out.

“Shit, sorry to make you late. Do you think we could talk later and I'll explain?” Eddie asked.

“Sure! Do you want to meet me in the library for lunch?”

“It’s a date” He said, with an exaggerated wink.

*Steve - 1984/1985*

Steve woke up in incredible pain. His back felt raw and he winced as every small movement he made pulled at the many stitches he could feel in the skin back there. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking into the bright light. The first thing he noticed was that he was in the infirmary in a hospital bed. He had mopped the floor in here during his cleaning duties so it was familiar enough. The second thing was El, asleep in a chair right next to his bed.

He smiled, overwhelmed with happiness that they had both survived, and grateful that she was right there where he could see her breathing and alive. He didn’t want to wake her but he hoped someone would come by soon to check on him. He was in desperate need of more pain medication.

As if on cue, Owens came strolling around the divider curtain seconds later.

“Good to see you awake, Mr. Harrington. How are we feeling? Any pain?” He kept his voice low, perhaps also not wanting to wake the girl who had so recently saved all of their lives.

“Just a little.” Steve breathed.

Owens offered him a small smile. “Of course. I’ll have someone bring you the good stuff in a minute.”

“How long was I out?” Steve asked.

“Not long, a day. We had to give you some blood, and a lot of stitches. There’s no sign of infection, though we’ll have to keep an eye on you for a few more days. Other than the pain in your back, how do you feel?”

“Fine, uh, normal I guess. Why? Should I not feel normal?”

“Well, you have the distinct honor of being the first person we know of to be injured by one of those things, but not killed. We couldn't be sure that there wouldn’t be side effects, but so far so good.”

Steve decided to not think about that little tidbit of information. “How is she?” He asked, tilting his head in El’s direction.

“Tired, but fine. Worried about you. She’ll be happy to see you awake.”

Shortly after Owens stepped away, the nurse, a woman Steve had never seen before, came by and pushed something through his IV. Before long, his pain level evened out enough that he could finally think straight. He reached out and smoothed a hand over El’s where it rested on the edge of his bed.

She was instantly alert, eyes snapping to Steve’s so quickly it made him laugh. The smile she gave him then was bright, something he hadn’t seen since before they’d been caught.

“Are you okay?” He asked, searching her face. She did look exhausted, with deep bruises under her eyes.

“You are the one in the bed hooked up to machines.” She pointed out.

“Right. I’m okay, I promise.”

“If I had been stronger, quicker, you would not have been hurt.”

“Sweetie, no. Don’t do that to yourself. Not everything is your fault. You did amazing and I'm so proud of you. If those dogs had gotten out and into Hawkins, I.. there's still some people out there I care about, and you saved them. You saved all of us.”

“It is my fault they were able to get through in the first place.”

He shook his head. “It’s not. That asshole Brenner...”

“No Steve, you do not understand. I’m afraid you won’t love me anymore once you find out, but I have to tell you something.”

He gripped her hand tightly but stayed quiet. He wanted to reassure her immediately that there was nothing she could do that he wouldn't forgive, but he knew whatever this was was eating her up inside, and she wouldn't accept his words until he’d heard her out.

“There was a man here when I was little, who worked for Papa. He was nice to me, and said we were alike. He said he wanted to help me become stronger. He was..” She paused, turning her wrist over in Steve's grip and running a finger over her tattoo. “One. Papa had put something inside him to stop his powers, but he tricked me into helping remove it. He killed the guards. I thought we were just going to escape but then he started killing the others. I tried to stop him, but I was too late to save them.” El cried as she spoke, gently pulling her hand out of his to wipe at her eyes.

Steve’s chest squeezed in sympathy as he watched and listened. Distantly, he was also furious at Brenner. He had no doubt the person she spoke of was the Henry from the doctor’s story. How dare he take an event that had so clearly traumatized this poor girl, and frame it in such a way to make Steve doubt her? It was despicable, much like everything else that happened in this god-forsaken place. He had to get them out of here.

El sniffled and continued. “We fought. I don’t know how I did it, but I sent him through to the place where those creatures live. I killed him, Steve. I am a monster.” Her tears turned to sobs that wracked her small frame. His heart broke.

Steve sat up, it was excruciating and he was almost positive he pulled more than one stitch, but nothing was going to stop him from comforting her in that moment. He wrapped an arm around her as best he could and squeezed.

“You’re not a monster. He was hurting people, you were defending yourself. You’re allowed to do that. You’ve been saving the world your whole life, haven't you?.”

The last bit earned him a weak grin, and that was worth all the pain and more.

The story about One answered some questions that had been bothering Steve since their arrival. It made more sense now, why El felt so strongly that all of this mess with the creatures and the gates to another world was her fault. Although, he still very much disagreed with her on that point. It also explained where all the other children had gone. He had hoped for a happier ending, one where the kids had been let go and reunited with their families. It was an unlikely fantasy, he knew, but this truth was so much worse than he could have guessed. Steve would have wondered at the man’s motives, but he was dead. What would be the point?

It seemed that Steve’s heroics in the basement of the lab had earned him a good amount of respect with the various scientists, doctors, and orderlies. He was even granted a bit of freedom once he was released from the infirmary. The door to his room was now locked only at night, though he was still confined to his floor. He was also, surprisingly, allowed to have the improvised weapon he’d used to keep the monsters at bay. He’d been shocked upon arriving back at his room to find the baseball bat leaning against the desk, its end stained with dried black blood.

He was healing nicely, but wasn’t permitted to resume his work for a while. His new unfettered access to the rainbow room provided him a good amount of distraction, as did the increased time with his sister. Following the battle with the dogs, Owens had started letting Steve sit in on his sessions with El. Brenner didn’t like it, and certainly wasn’t about to offer the same, but it seemed that the two lead doctors held complete control over their respective parts of this fucked up project.

Against his better judgment, Steve was beginning to like Doctor Owens, trust him even, if only a little. He treated Eleven like a human being, like the child she was, and not like the science experiment Brenner did.

By Summer 1985, Steve was back to work cleaning, and of course continuing to secretly map out the facility. He was glad to be busy again, but he'd been feeling rather miserable lately. After months of seeing Eleven for hours daily, suddenly several days would pass without him seeing her at all. She promised that everything was okay, but wouldn’t tell him what she was so busy with. That alone would be enough to put him in a bad mood, but he was also just so hot and uncomfortable all the time. He knew it was Summer, but you’d think an operation of this size would be able to afford decent air conditioning. He tried not to be grumpy about it when they did get to spend time together, but he thinks El noticed.

Eleven was late and Steve was annoyed. He’d finally convinced an orderly to give him a calendar and today was the 4th of july. Not the most important of holidays, but he’d still wanted to spend it with her. Even if they couldn’t eat hotdogs and watch fireworks.

No matter how much he tells himself to calm down, Steve can feel himself getting agitated. Figuring that sitting still isn’t doing him much good, he decided to pace the halls, eventually waving his hands in front of one of the cameras like a maniac until someone finally noticed him.

The elevator dinged a few feet away from where he was standing. The doors opened a second later to reveal Doc Owens. “Steve, I think you’d better come with me.”

Steve had never been in this part of the building before, the place where Eleven worked with Dr. Brenner. In the middle of the room was a large tank full of water, and he could see her floating in the center of it. He’d been warned to keep quiet, until she was done. Something about ruining her concentration. He would have listened, if El hadn’t started thrashing in the water the minute he arrived.

Before anyone could stop him, Steve threw himself in the tank, and cradled her in his arms. She came out of her trance with a loud gasp, looking up at him with wide terrified eyes. “It’s inside you. That place, it’s inside you, Steve.”

“It’s as we suspected then. We’ll have to lock him up until we know more about the.. Infection.” Brenner was speaking to the other Doctor but his voice carried in the wide empty room.

Eleven rose in the water, moving to stand between Steve and the rest of the onlookers. “No! I won’t let you do that to him.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, torn between being scared at what the she had just said to him and aggravated that he had no idea what was happening.

“Let’s get you both out of there and dried off. Then we’ll talk.” Owens offered, waving the few guards that had gathered off, as he and Dr Brenner approached. “Just talk.” He added, glaring at his colleague.

Not having any choice, Steve and El climbed out. She allowed a woman to wrap her in a thick robe, but Steve declined, the air on his wet skin felt good after being so warm all day.

“We’ve begun to think recently that something might have been left behind when you were scratched by the creature.” Brenner began.

“But it’s been months, and I'm fine!” Steve argued, taken aback.

“It’s complicated to explain.”

“Try anyway.” Steve said, through gritted teeth.

“There's a lot more going on here than just what we do in this lab.”

“I’m not an idiot!” Steve snapped, “and since you're all telling me there’s something related to those, things, inside me, I'd like to know what’s going on!”

Owens raised his hands in a placating gesture. “We’ll tell you what we can, but you have to stay calm.”

“I’m fine!” Steve shouted.

The two doctors shared a look, which only pissed him off further, but he wisely kept his mouth shut this time.

“We’ve been seeing signs, and readings, that lead us to believe that somewhere nearby, someone is trying to open a gate to the other dimension. Now, we know the Russians have been working on a secret technology for years. Something that could, in theory, emit enough energy to break through the wall between that other world and our own. We’ve also discovered through wire tapping that the new mall in town is actually owned by a Russian organization who bought it through a shadow company. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Russians? In Hawkins?” Steve muttered, utterly confused at the turn this conversation had taken.

“What’s a mall?” El asked, quietly. He smiled at her and made a mental note to talk to her about it later.

Steve returned his attention to the two men and asked the important question. “What does that have to do with me?”

“There seems to be a correlation between the elevated readings and your irritable temperament.” Brenner supplied, unhelpfully.

Steve looked at Owens, hoping for a simplified translation. “Every time someone tries to access the other dimension, you get.. cranky. Here, I’ll show you.”

The doctor turned, bringing their attention to a nearby monitor. He popped a small tape in the machine next to it, and Steve watched in horror as his own image filled the screen. It’s a video of him, alone in his room. He was pacing and yelling, though they couldn’t hear what he was saying. He repeatedly banged on the door. Steve would have thought it was an old video, from when they first got here, if not for the scars that could be seen clearly on his bare back. There were also black lines running up and down his body like veins, shifting and moving under his skin. Steve had absolutely no memory of this. After a few minutes, two orderlies arrived. As the on-screen Steve threw the first punch at them, Owens paused the video.

“Lock me up. Now.” Steve said, immediately and without hesitation.

“No!” Eleven cried.

He understood why she was defending him, appreciated it even, but this wasn’t up for debate, not after what he just saw. “I could hurt you. I won’t risk that.”

Steve wasn't taken back to his own room like he assumed he would be. Instead, he was escorted to a much smaller room with a bare tile floor and a solid metal door. There was no bed, just walls and a floor. Brenner assured him as he locked him inside, that they would do everything they could to figure out how to help him. He doesn’t know if he believes that, but he doesn't have any other choice.

Timing was a funny thing, Steve thought as he stared at the ceiling from his seat on the hard floor. No more than a few hours after being locked inside the room, he started to feel it happen. Like someone was whispering in his mind, he could feel a presence there. Something that didn’t belong, something that wasn’t himself. His arms broke out in goosebumps, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

He got up, knocking on the room’s door, praying someone was around to hear him. He peered through the small glass window until a face swam into view. Owens.

“Something’s happening.” He shouted through the door.

Steve didn’t like the answering look he received from the man.

“I know. We’re handling it.” Owens said, after a long pause.

“What do you mean?”

“Listen, Steve, I'm sorry but I can’t tell you.”

“What, why?”

“One of the things we’ve learned through all this, is that entities from that other dimension are connected. It’s called a hive mind, and if you’re contaminated with it, then you might unwittingly give our plans away.”

Steve felt the blood drain from his face. It was a terrifying thought, that he might be controlled by the same force that directed those creatures.

“You really have no idea how to get it out of me?”

Owens' lips fell into a thin line, expression pained. He was definitely holding something back.

“You do have an idea. Tell me” Steve begged.

The doctor shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

Steve groaned. “Staying like this is too dangerous, you saw that tape!”

“It could kill you.”

“You’ll have to kill me anyway if we don’t fix this.” Steve said, knowing with absolute certainty that he was right. Confirmed by the fact that Owens didn’t argue.

“This thing, it doesn’t like the heat. I think maybe we could burn it out of you. It’s like a virus and you're the host. If we make the environment less hospitable, it would be forced to leave or die.”

“Do it.”

For better or worse, Steve doesn’t remember a whole lot of what happened after that. They forced heat in through the vents of the room. He remembered beginning to sweat, and getting increasingly angry. He started losing chunks of time, little by little, before finally slipping away completely.

This time when Steve wakes in the infirmary, there's another bed set up on the other side of the room. He felt severely dehydrated but wasn’t really in any pain, thankfully. The relief for his own situation dissolved quickly, as he realized the figure lying in the other bed was Eleven.

Steve yanked the IV out of his arm and swung his legs off the bed in one fluid motion. He was a little wobbly on his feet, but managed to make it to her side without falling over. There was a chair nearby and he sank into it gratefully, ready to sit there all day holding her hand until she woke up.

After a while, he started to talk softly to her as she slept. Nothing too important, just memories of growing up, stories about school friends, basketball games, field trips, etc. He rambled on, needing to fill the silence with something so he didn’t go crazy with worry.

He was so focused on recounting a particularly fond memory of a certain dark curly-haired classmate, that he almost missed it when her eyes finally blinked open.

“Who’s Eddie?” She asked, voice hoarse.

Steve laughed wetly, bending down to hug her.

“Thank god you’re awake. I was so worried. What happened? The last thing I remember is being locked in that room.”

“Papa took me to that place.”

“The mall?”

“Yes. It was pretty on the outside but I did not like the elevator. Papa said the people there opened a gate and I had to close it.”

Oh god, he couldn’t believe Brenner took her to that place while he’d been locked away. Anything could have happened to her. “Sweetie, you can’t keep doing this. One of these times it’s going to be too much. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I had to. I thought it would help you.”

“El..” He didn’t like her putting herself in danger for him. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t worth it, but she wouldn’t let him.

“And I have been seeing a new creature. There's only one but it is huge. Like a giant spider made of black smoke. I could not let something like that out.”

He understood that she felt like she had to help, but he’d had about enough of these people letting one little girl carry the weight of the world on her shoulders alone. “You should have let them solve their own problems for once. You were outside, you could have run while they were busy and gotten away again.”

“Not without you” She disagreed.

“It might have been your only chance.”

“No. We will find a way, together. I know it.”

Chapter 5

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium @ellietheasexylibrarian @stxrcrossed186 @5ammi90 @meccaminayah @bestwifehaver @sofadofax @mentallyundone

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ao3 #steve harrington/eddie munson #life is a game #steve x eddie #Canon is just a crazy game of D&D #alternating pov #Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins #Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother

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danthediamondminecart · 2 months ago

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So now that i have learnt that asking u questions will not make u want to brutally murder me, ITS MY TURN AAAHAHHAHAHAH-

Numéro Un : Whats ur main's lore??? The parasite dudeeeeeeeeee >:))))

Numara İki : Who is your least and most fav battler from ALL of RBB (its not the same question i swear!!!!!!!!)

Numero Tatlo : Give the finalists a scent or/and a song.

Numero Cuatro : Will we see more of Lana, Bella and Hoopie?? I needed to ask this for the girliessss (btw from clues left around here and there, im guessing Bella and Steak are shapeshifters???)

Nummer Fünf : KREEK GOT POSSESED BY BILL CIPHER- is the guy ok 😞😞😞💔💔💔 How often will we see TMA x RBB?? Like how many more are u expecting atm???

Numero Sei : This one is abt BLSMP, kinda like mini questions;

Will we see Megan in action of vengeance soon?

Will Pink get his cookie??

Russo.

How long will day 6 and 7 be? Like chapters and chapter lenght????

-. ..- -- -... . .-. / --... : Are you overworking yourself? Yk if you are, just for our entertainment. Stop. Take a breather. Its not worth it <3

HAVE A SMOOTH DAY BYEEEE >:DDDD

bugbo. im sorry i had to 😰😰😞😞😞💔💔💔💔🤯🤯🤯😭😭😭😭👹👹👹🥰🥰🥰

( why am i like this )

Why are there Bin Weevils in my askbox. Anyway, answers to your questions under the cut!!

Question 1: C!YanDan is…something, certainly. He was formed by negative energy generated when a crystal exploded (if you know, you know), and that negative energy cloud possessed a malnourished unused clone in the basement of a laboratory in the woods. He dislikes DanTDM on principle, but like, he’s only met the guy once. These days, he’s just a hitman who gets sent out on slightly more unscrupulous jobs, alongside his friends. You can find his reference, as well as his two friend’s references, here, here and here. There’s also their boss, but I haven’t uploaded him yet.

Question 2: Least favourite, uh, the ones who’ve turned out to be not-nice people behind the scenes, I guess? You know the ones. Favourite is probably Tanqr and Kreek, because I’m basic as fuck. But also, underrated favourites are Hyper, Jackeryz and Calixo. Oh, Think, Preston and BigB are also up there, but I like them for other reasons.

Question 3: I’m going to do songs because I don’t know scents all too well. Some of these I am very certain of, some of these are just flat out vibes.

KreekCraft: The Main Character - Will Wood

Tanqr: Ruthlessness - EPIC: The Musical

DylanHyper: Waiting In The Wings - Tangled: The Series

AshleyTheUnicorn: Get Down - Six: The Musical

PinkLeaf: No More: LongestSoloEver

iBella: Gon’ be real I don’t have a song in mind for Bella. Most of the songs I listen to don’t really fit her.

DenisDaily: Vending Machine of Love: The Stupendium

Question 4: That depends on what universe you’re asking about. Lana and Bella have major roles in the TMA AU, so they’ll likely appear more there! Bella’s also pretty important to some of my other AUs, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Hoopie, meanwhile…I don’t really include her? Mainly because I don’t fukcing know what her and Tanqr have going on. Are they dating? Are they just friends? I don’t know how she fits in. In my take on canon, I have them in a weird situationship where they don’t even know what they are. So…yeah.

Question 4.5: Correct on Bella - she is a shapeshifter! Her knowledge on human anatomy has gotten a lot better, but that accursed Rthro render was the result when she…didn’t. Steak, meanwhile, is just a slab of meat. He doesn’t have bones. He doesn’t have hair. He just has meat slabs carved (and skin) to look vaguely human. (His hair’s texture is either cartilage or leather, I haven’t decided).

Question 5: If I had a nickel for every time Hunt!Kreek was referred to as Bill Cipher, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice, right? In all seriousness, no, he is not okay. The TMA AU (at least, Kreek’s side of it) can basically be summarised by “one man (Kreek) gets haunted by and slowly turns into a fucked up version of his YouTube channel mascot” and with that comes a major sanity slippage. I’d love to release more TMA AU content, and I do have some stored! It just depends on my motivation and what I want to release. Right now I’m working on writing a full plot outline to make my life easier when talking about it, but it’s taking some time.

Question 6: Bold of you to assume she hasn’t already done that. In fact, in the next chapter, I’d say she’s about to do the exact opposite.

Question 6.25: Once Ashley is in a situation where she knows how to make one.

Question 6.5: Russo, what are you doing. RUSSO NO-

Question 6.75: Day 6 has 7 chapters, Day 7 has 6 (planned, subject to change). Word count depends on what happens in them - some of the Day 6 chapters have a LOT GOING ON.

-. . …- . .-. / --. --- -. -. .- / --. .. …- . / -.-- --- ..- / ..- .—. : I think I’m fine!! I’m doing a lot of work right now because I’m gonna be quite busy with life during the next year when things pick up, so you know, getting ahead of the game. I’ve gone from being 2 chapters ahead to being 7, so I’m pretty proud of that. Then again, literally 30 minutes after I read this ask I managed to spill boiling water all over my hand and now I can’t really type, so…there’s that.

#yandan answers #yandan rambles #rb battles #rbbblr #oc talk #BLSMP #battle life smp #headcanons

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ultramagicalternate · 17 days ago

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ULTRAMagic Interval Chapter 4

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“Alright, pizza’s coming through!” Faustus announced as he walked over to the kitchen counter.

“WitchHaven is such a nice place,” Mayhem commented. “Fairly calm, no overt crime… such places are few and far between when it comes to humans.”

Antonio set the boxes up side by side. “I take it things went well?”

“Without a hitch, but a few people were giving us odd looks. Our human forms probably need some adjustments…”

“His, not mine,” Faustus interjected. “Mayhem, no one rolls around in medieval clothing these days…”

“Renaissance, not medieval.” Faustus gave Mayhem an incredulous look, causing the others to chuckle.

“Sorry we couldn’t make a proper dinner tonight, Adrien,” Antonio said as the others took turns getting their slices.

“No te preocupes, there’s not much we can do about it. Besides, I’ve been craving some pizza lately. I was on a mission to Italy recently and I would’ve gotten some there had I not been bushwacking it with Antares and Marcus.”

“You know what?” Will said after swallowing his food. “When I was living with my parents, this was not the kind of action I was craving.”

Adrien laughed sympathetically. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Will.”

“Yeah… so what’s next?”

“Well ideally the cargo helicopter will arrive tomorrow at 2 PM. Once we make sure everything’s good to go, we’ll get moving.”

Sam nodded. “I take it M.A.I.G. knows what’s up by now?”

“Yup,” Adrien said as he wiped his face. “Apparently Dr. Reynard was two steps ahead of us as he was ready to go when Antares called Trumna.”

Randalph stroked his chin in contemplation. “Interesting, lending credence to my theory that he’s a reincarnated primordial…”

“A primordial?” Will inquired. “What’s that?”

Before Randalph could answer, Sam put her hand on Will’s. “It’s nothing, Boyo. Just stuff from a long time ago.”

Randalph gave her a mildly confused look. “Er, right. Either way, it shouldn’t be too relevant to us as I doubt other ones are involved. What is the plan of attack once Will is at M.A.I.G., Adrien?”

“Not sure. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there… haha, get there, hehe.”

The rest of the meal went smoothly, with Adrien telling the group more about his recent missions. After a fascinating tale about one that took Adrien all the way to Greenland, Will got out a movie for everyone to enjoy. The following day everyone kept an eye on the sky for the helicopter. 2 o’clock rolled around with no sign of it. Will sat around on the grass, waiting patiently with Faustus.

Growing bored at around 4 o’clock, Faustus whistled for Adrien. “Hey, Adrien? Where’s the van?”

He was tuning up his motorcycle. “Probably some paperwork and clearance hooha. Antares cautioned me about that.”

Will tapped Faustus’ arm. “He did say ideally after all.”

“I know, Champ. It’s just that I feel like we’re sitting ducks at the moment.”

Another hour passed and it was 5 o’clock. Sam joined Will and Faustus as they looked bored. She had finished packing their essentials and had nothing else to do. Things then grew a little too quiet, followed by everyone sensing something awful. A small torrent of grisly smoke erupted from the road and up rose what must have been Valentin. Despite his regal looking attire, he did not seem like the most pleasant individual to be around. Still, he was a bit handsome and even a little charming in a maniacal sort of way.

Adrien and Antonio sprung into action, pressing the barrels of their guns into him. Valentin laughed and waved a white handkerchief around. “Parlay, Gentlemen. Parlay. Besides, if both of you blow my brains out, it’ll end poorly for all of us.”

Antonio groaned as he realized the blast from his shotgun would potentially hit Adrien and lowered it. “Damn it… alright, what do you want?”

Valentin’s head twitched as a smile stretched across it. It was unnerving to say the least. “I just came to announce that it looks like our little dance will be moving to Red River. Bethany has already returned to her crypt, so you all best not be late…”

Adrien moved the barrel of his handgun to Valentin’s temple. “What do you want? Spill it.”

Valentin would have been lying if he said the gun did not make him a little nervous. Adrien had been known to pull the trigger when the chips were down. “Zasiel’s soul, for it is coveted by my… my…” he growled, struggling to hold back a string of profanities. “...master,” he said through gritted teeth.

Faustus walked right up to Valentin and flared his nostrils. A plume of black smoke came from them. “You have no right to refer to him by that name.”

“You’re not going to get it, Perkele!” Will shakily declared. His legs were twitching a bit from the distress he felt.

This made him laugh. “Ooh! Are you honoring me or insulting me?” He then handed him what looked like an invitation. It was unclear if this was provocation or courtesy.

“What the Hell even are you?” Will asked, confused and terrified.

“An agent of chaos, no different from you, o’Zasiel. You have quite the legacy given that you’re one of The Nightmare of Old, a fragment of the wicked Tyrant God…”

Something about that struck a nerve with Sam. She went right up to him and began slamming the intruder around with inhuman strength. Everyone panicked as Sam was going berserk, hollering and screeching like a mad warrior. Valentin tried to fight back, but was slammed right into the road. He then tried to crawl towards Will, but Sam dragged the demented jester towards a tree and pinned him up against it, bruised and bloodied.

“DON’T YOU EVER CALL HIM THAT AGAIN, YOU WASTE OF HUMAN LIFE!!” Sam shouted at the top of her lungs as she readied her fist. Her voice was echoing and making the ground tremble.

Just as Valentin braced himself, there was a loud rumbling approaching that was not Sam. They all looked up as the cargo helicopter thundered over them. As the rest covered their ears, Sam looked back at Valentin.

“Good bye!” he cheekily said as he vanished.

Once the noise was gone, Will cautiously approached his girlfriend. “S-Sam? Are you…?”

“WHAT!?” she barked, a hint of power still left in her voice. This made Will recoil in fear, falling to the ground.

Adrien went and grabbed her by the arm. “SAM! What the Hell’s gotten into you!?” he demanded to know as the others helped Will up.

This made her come to her senses. “What the… Oh God, Boyo! Don’t worry, it’s alright, I’m not mad at you…” Sam tried her best to hug him. “Sorry sorry sorry…”

“Alright, everyone get inside Sam’s house!” Adrien instructed. “I’m going to go get the van and then we’re off!” He hopped on his motorcycle, started it up, and sped off down the road.

Randalph remained outside with Mayhem. “I think one of my theories just got proven right, Mayhem.”

“You don’t think that’s Morrigan Devilfay, do you?” Mayhem asked as he picked up the invitation Will had dropped.

“The strength, the way her eyes turned purple, and the way she reacted to what Valentin said? I’m sure of it.”

Mayhem scratched his chin. “Speaking of what he said, you don’t think Anne is foolish enough to try Karnage’s failed plan again?”

“No. They would’ve tried to capture Will already if that was the case.”

“And given the insinuation, should we assume Valentin is in league with the cult?”

Randalph nodded. “Absolutely.” He started to pace. “Why they would be after Will is anyone’s guess… unless he has something they need.”

Mayhem had a lurking suspicion. “Do you think he has the potential?”

“I don’t think, I know he has the potential for ULTRAMagic, Mayhem.”

“Then it’s a case of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“It would seem so. I don’t think we’re seeing a repeat of the past. I think this is a new plan. And unfortunately for Will, he’s the only one with the potential for the trait at the moment. The others who have already achieved it are in The Unlight, making them untouchable for whatever Valentin is scheming.”

“I see why you brought me along now,” Mayhem concluded. “It pains me to see him get wrapped up in our conflicts.”

Randalph tapped his staff on the road and sighed. “The best we can do is keep him safe for now. We’ll call in the guild if we have to. Keep your eyes and ears open once you get to Red River.”

“Of course. I just hope we don’t have to call in the guild in the first place, as that would mean things are worse than we what thought.”

“As an aside, Will is a capable mage,” Randalph said as he tapped his staff on the ground once more, creating a magical barrier around the area. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it, a little encouragement goes a long way with him.”

“Duly noted, Randalph.”

Steel Cat vans were a more casual means of transport for The Liger Brigade, but provided fantastic protection in a fire fight. Adrien pulled into Sam’s driveway and shut off the engine. It was dinner time, he was stressed out, and his stomach was growling. Walking inside the house, he was greeted by the smell of spaghetti and the sight of everyone eating peacefully, despite what had happened earlier.

“Ha, well what’s all this?” Adrien asked.

“Hey, Adrien!” Will said from the table, followed by everyone else welcoming him back. Will sounded noticeably better, and so did Sam.

Antonio sat Adrien down at the table. “Welcome back, Adrien. I was all worked up, so I went and made us a nice and big dinner before everyone heads out.”

“Gracias, Antonio,” Adrien replied as Antonio put some food on his plate. “Getting the van off the helicopter was a pain, but we’re all good to go. Pretty comfy in there too, not going to lie.”

“Thankfully nothing else happened while you were gone,” Buster pointed out. “Hey, Adrien? Do you think the people at M.A.I.G. would be up for interviews as a part of a piece I want to write about the organization?”

Olivia was flabbergasted. “Now, of all times? And everyone said I was a workaholic…”

Adrien chuckled. “Just don’t leak any classified stuff and you should be fine.”

Kyu finished slurping some noodles. “Oh, Trevor did talk to Umuka before you got back, Adrien. He’s already on his way to Red River.”

“I see. I guess that means Valentin was being truthful about Bethany heading back to Mt. Steadyrock then.”

Will sighed. “I’ll take that reprieve.”

It was 8 o’clock when Will, Faustus, Sam, Buster, and Olivia began to get into the van. Mayhem went ahead and teleported to M.A.I.G. headquarters. Faustus could have gone with him, but he wanted to keep Will and the others safe. Trevor and his parents were there, having popped in to say goodbye before they all left.

“Don’t you darlings fret, we won’t let anything happen to this place while you’re gone,” Nathaniel assured. “I’ll even call on General Washington’s ghost if I have to!”

Adelaide giggled. “Dear, I don’t think we’ll have to go that far. Still, stay safe, everyone.”

Trevor gave Will a hug. “Look, Will? This is not me doubting you, but if things go south, you’re more than welcome to stay with us as a ghost.”

Will chuckled. “Thanks, Trevor. Don’t worry, they’re not going to get the best of me. Bye for now, everyone” he said as he got into the van.

With everyone inside, Adrien closed her door and rolled down the window. “Adios, amigos. Wish us luck.”

“Give us a call when you get there and teach Perkele a lesson he won’t soon forget” Antonio said as the van started to pull out of the driveway.

It was worrying and surreal to see the van drive down the hill. Everyone who was staying behind watched until it disappeared into the horizon. The silence was haunting as the nighttime chill crept in.

“I’m sort of hoping they turn around because it turns out to be safer here…” Kyu stated.

“I know how you feel, little buddy,” Antonio reassured.

Randalph clapped his hands. “No need to be so glum, gentlemen. How about I teach you some magic so perhaps we can join them if need be?”

“A capital idea, Mr. Scarfe,” Nathaniel complimented. “Trevor, Adelaide? Shall we head off on a nightly patrol?”

“Certainly,” Adelaide agreed. “We better make sure that scoundrel didn’t leave any nasty surprises for us.”

“The arrogance and irony of calling yourself ‘Perkele’ is something I’ll never understand,” Trevor remarked as the ghosts vanished.

Antonio subtly nodded to that point. “Alright, Randalph, show us some tricks.”

“Just note that I am partial towards alchemy” Kyu stated as they all went into Sam’s house. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around necromancy.”

“Kyu, my friend, I started out as an Alchemist,” Randalph replied. “Personally I think alchemical doctrine is the true foundation of all magic. Also I think you have more potential than you realize…”

Next: Chapter 5

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cr-noble-writes · 1 year ago

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Snippet Sunday

Snippet Sunday while I am trying to get back in the swing of writing Mass Effect after falling into a BG3 whole for a little while haha

Tagging @swaps55 @otemporanerys @theoriginalladya @nickelkeep @bleuzombie and @imbiowaresbitch if y'all have any snippets you'd like to share!

From Chapter 4 of Argonauts:

“It’s mostly about her being Benezia’s daughter.” Ashley presses her fingers to her temples. The whole thing is giving her a headache. “But she’s also not the only one I’m concerned about.” She pauses and waits for the lieutenant to say something, but he just waits for her to continue. “Wrex is a mercenary. His only loyalty is to credits. Vakarian is too trigger happy, and he just thinks the rules are there to get in his way. How are we supposed to trust these people to have our backs?” “I think it’s okay to be wary,” Alenko says carefully. “Shepard having so many non-human people aboard looks good for the Alliance, too.” “I don’t disagree, sir. I’ll admit I’m not used to working with aliens, but that’s not what this is about. Wrex might have our backs now because we’re paying him, but what happens when someone else comes along and offers more credits for information on the Normandy’s systems?” Alenko nods. “I get where you’re coming from, Williams. I think that’s a bridge we’ll have to cross if we get there.” “Yeah.” Ashley stares blankly across the cargo bay, watching a pair of off duty marines chat with Vakarian. “It just seems like I’m the only one that’s even considered that bridge exists.” “I can see how that would be frustrating.” Alenko smiles. “Like I said, there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy skepticism. I think unless they give us reason to believe otherwise, we just have to trust that Shepard knows what he’s doing.” Ashley nods. “Yes, sir.” She pushes up off the Mako and tucks the bore cleaner under one arm. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #ashley williams #argonauts #snippet sunday

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lunarsands · 2 years ago

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ALSMP Fanfic: Wherever These Flowers May Grow Ch 4

Characters: goddess!PearlescentMoon, actual!angel!Sausage, starborne!Scott; reintroducing: floran!Scott and introducing: floran!Sausage, with special guest Empires SMP S2 Joel and a cameo by Origins SMP CaptainSparklez

Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor

Tags: Canon Divergent, scosage, fluff

Warnings: Character Death (temporary as usual with this series), a tiny bit of angst

(Sequel to Echoing Through To You, When The Skies Cry, Until The Blood Moon Descends, and Then We’ll Rewrite the Stars)

(Also available on Ao3!)

Summary: Pearl sends Sausage and Scott on a mission to help out on another mortal world different from their old one. Scott finds himself returned to an old set of powers; Sausage gets new ones which, as it turns out, he has some trouble controlling. It’s not exactly a honeymoon trip, but they do meet a nice new godling while there.

[ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ]

[ A/N: Bonus artwork by Cynthrey linked at the end! ]

---

Chapter Four

Traveling east led them to finally seeing signs of civilization. They arrived at a strait where a stone bridge was in the process of being built. They approached cautiously, unsure how their appearances would be taken, but deciding they should see if the other land mass needed to be repaired as only their floran powers could allow.

The first person to notice them was a human stonemason, who greeted them with a wave and a delighted look. She called to her fellow builders, and out of the group of five another woman came over as the two florans reached the start of the bridge. She smiled warmly while the others hung back to watch. “Hello, spirits of the forests! We haven’t seen any of your kind for many years. It’s good to know you still exist. This is a fortuitous sign! It means we chose the right time to begin the return to our homeland!”

“Hello!” Sausage responded cheerfully. “We’ve been beautifying the place, so hopefully you like it when you get there!”

Scott smiled as well, although he was curious. “We saw some ruins, but it didn’t look like anyone had been around for, well, several decades at least.”

The woman nodded. “Yes. Centuries have gone by since our people fled terrible calamities that wracked the land. We are the descendants of two empires, whose people came together out of the ashes to build anew in a safer region. You may use our Greatbridge here to visit our haven, Gilded Ratio, if you like. We have a nice orchard that you might find rest in, and I’m sure the farmers will appreciate the blessing of your presence.”

“Thank you, I think we will.” Scott nodded to her in appreciation. She returned the gesture with a bow, then stepped aside and held out one arm to extend the offer of crossing the bridge.

The other builders similarly moved aside, an assortment of wonder and joy on their faces. Scott walked ahead, but glanced back, noticing Sausage was hesitating. The former seraph put a hand to the back of his head. “Uh, yeah, thanks! And, um, I apologize if there’s, like, just a little extra grass or moss or flowers that end up growing on here, eh-heheh! It looks great, by the way! Very solid build, those pylons should stand for many more centuries!”

Scott gave him a patient look and held out his hand. Sausage reached to clasp it, leaning over instead of taking a step onto the bridge. Scott tugged him forward. Sausage hopped awkwardly, then realized nothing was growing under him. “Oh. Oh! Right, direct contact with soil! Ah-haha, never mind! But maybe watch for plants starting to creep onto the end, there.” He pointed to the stone connecting to the land, but then nearly stumbled as Scott dragged him along. “Okay, okay! W-We’re going now! Have fun building!”

He moved up beside Scott and hissed quietly, “You don’t have to be pushy! You could have just reminded me I didn’t have to worry about it!”

“Sorry. I was getting a little nervous. They were kind of looking at us like we’re some kind of gods. I’m not used to so much attention. I mean, yeah, people can see starbornes at work, but as just another star. I don’t have to look them in the eye and go ‘hi, yes, I rearranged the sky, now bow down before me’!”

“That’s a good point. But, um, you might have to get used to it a little bit…” Sausage eyed a second construction crew that was working on a lookout tower at the other end, which appeared to be one of a set to either side. The people halted as the two florans walked by, another round of wonderous gazes coming their way.

“Hello,” Scott singsonged casually, waving, “Don’t mind us, just passing by to bestow some blessings, then we’ll be on our way.”

The two passed through a stone passageway that might have been one source of material for the bridge. On the other side was a new sight to astound them. Before them stood a city below a curved road, with farms cascading down hills and small homes clustered around larger, central buildings. The true focal point, however, was a giant statue of a woman holding a sword, one feathered wing extended to her right and a stylized circular wing on the left. Gleaming with golden accents, it resembled a shining sun, with rays at intervals to add to the effect.

Sausage gazed at the statue with enamored eyes and murmured, “Reminds me of Pearl… It doesn’t look like a temple from here, though…”

“Let’s get closer. We can always ask the locals. Maybe they’re into angel symbolism. Just the place for you.” Scott smiled teasingly. Sausage stuck his tongue out in response, then composed himself when two citizens came up to welcome them with the same excitement as the woman on the bridge.

It quickly became apparent she had sent word for them to find the florans through some type of long-distance signaling system. They were among the numerous agriculture experts in town. They offered to give the florans a tour. The first thing the pair asked when they reached street level was about the statue.

“That is Our Lady of Harvests, the Goddess Peril,” explained the taller of the citizens, “She watches over our city as well as the catacombs, where all of our people have been laid to rest since it was founded. They even say one of the great emperors of the past is entombed within, but the exact location of that crypt is hidden.”

“Peril,” Sausage mumbled, then repeated it with an accent as, “Perl.” He nudged Scott with his elbow. Scott merely smiled.

The other farmer piped up, “You’re probably not here for a history lesson, though. If you would be so kind, we do have one crop field that isn’t yielding. After that, you can visit the orchard.”

The crops in question were several hundred scraggly stalks of what was supposed to be corn. Scott walked along the first row getting a feel for the location’s energy while Sausage waited on the cobblestone path. After touching one stalk and turning it a healthier shade of green, Scott said, “After this harvest you should let this field lay fallow for a season, then rotate to a different crop. The soil tired out early.”

He then nodded to Sausage, who grinned and stepped between the second and third rows. He held his hands out to either side and took off running, fingers grazing sagging leaves. A wave of refreshed green took hold of the corn stalks shortly after he passed. When he reached the end, he turned and ran through the fourth and fifth rows.

Scott ambled down the first row, changing all of the stalks there, then went around the border of the field to mark where Sausage could stop. Several other people wandered over to see what was happening, including a few children. When he returned to the starting point, Scott smiled gently at them; the children had probably heard many fairy tales about the ‘spirits of the forest’ and might not have the same level of understanding as the adults of how the magic was working. He grew a handful of small sunflowers out of his palm, then passed them out to the children one by one. Faces lit up with wonder again. A few of the adults moved closer to see if he had any leftover to give to them.

“So, you were sent by Our Lady Peril,” someone said reverently. “Thank you for these gifts.”

“You’re… welcome,” Scott said with a measure of caution. With all the reminders of PearlescentMoon, he chose to go with sunflowers as an experiment. He had his answer. “Well, you enjoy. We have more to see before we continue our travels.”

He collected Sausage as he was on his way back from the final rows of corn. A bit winded but cheerful, the former seraph beamed at him. “That was fun, too! Is there anywhere else they need us to work on, or are we wandering around some more?”

“We’re going to see that orchard they were talking about, then figure out what we’ll do for the night.”

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping in a real bed again, come to think of it…”

“Shh,” Scott hushed him. He lowered his own voice. “They think we were sent by their god. Remember what our Pearl said. Let’s not mention anything that might reveal we’re something else.”

Sausage coughed. He loudly proclaimed, “A real bed of moss, you know! Not as much mossy moss around these parts like where we usually dwell!”

“Ah— Okay,” Scott murmured helplessly.

Attention kept being drawn their way as they walked. Both responded with polite greetings while making observations of their own. There were pens full of different animals, people transporting goods, and tradecraft shops of all kinds.

Sausage swiveled his head as he took it all in, commenting, “This city seems pretty nice. The red sheep are a little weird, but other than that, it’s a thriving society! Big contrast to the whole other continent I think we were on.”

“I’m starting to wonder if maybe we’ve traveled too far. If this does happen to be a completely different continent, and the worst problem they have is not rotating crops, we might have been meant to go west from the mountains instead.”

“There was the giant lily, though.”

“Hmm, true. West from there, then, or further south, or even back to the north. We could go back over the bridge…”

“We could also maybe ask Pearl for a sign. I mean, if this place isn’t a sign. That statue was really obvious.”

“Yeah, but why would we need to be here?”

“Inspire the people to make more flower gardens? I don’t know!”

Scott held out an arm to stop Sausage as a line of rather unusual trees came into view. They approached with curiosity again, both of them picking up on the modified energy of the trees. A worker carrying a basket of faintly glowing fruit in multiple colors waved at them. “Welcome to the Froglight Orchard!”

Despite numerous invitations to spend the night in available buildings, Scott and Sausage opted to climb one of the acacia trees near the city’s outskirts. They figured no one would want to wake up with the front door blocked by overenthusiastic grass and flowers.

They intended to set off at dawn, but a shepherd herding a flock of sheep out to the plains to feed was waiting for them. They figured he was only trying to be polite.

“Spirits of the forests, we thank you for your visit. If you need anything for your journeys, please ask. We will offer what we can.” He bowed.

“That won’t be necessary,” Scott said, a hand out to try to indicate he meant the bowing and the offer. “We have all we need right from the land.”

“Actually,” Sausage interjected, “Do you, by any chances, have any honey bottles to spare? And maybe a pack to carry them. Oh, and if you could also do us one favor and spread the word of the storm god, Joel, who I’m sure will help with any droughts if you say a sincere prayer to him. Rain goes along with healthy crops, after all!”

~*~

Scott raised an eyebrow as Sausage finished drinking his third honey bottle in an hour. They were half a day’s travel from Gilded Ratio, and Scott himself hadn’t been hungry, feeling plenty sustained by photosynthesis.

Sausage was apparently another story. He stowed the empty bottle in the satchel the shepherd had given them, then met Scott’s gaze. “What? I’m hungry! I think all this excess power leakage is draining me!” He then giggled, realizing his incidental pun.

“I hope that doesn’t mean we’re on a time limit,” Scott said thoughtfully. “You didn’t even do anything as strenuous as those redstone chasms.”

“It might maybe possibly be from trying extremely hard to not overwhelm that entire city with abundant crops.”

Scott sighed. “We are officially staying away from all villages and cities and whatever other settlements people might be in.”

“You know, if they’re settled, that means we don’t need to fix anything, anyway.”

“True. We’ll keep going this way for now and see what we find. We can always loop back around.”

For another few weeks the two florans traveled around, finding mostly areas where plant life was beginning to take hold with not so much in the way of calamitous destruction. They helped things along and grew extra flowers before moving on. They continued to be oblivious to the one god who was spying on them – and who was growing more resentful by the day; meanwhile, Joel occasionally zipped down to light-heartedly pester them. His mood had become very cheery, and one time he let slip that the mortals had finally taken notice of him. A small shrine had been created in a major city this side of the planet, and he was feeling more powerful for it.

Sausage made the suggestion that Joel should seek out a mortal and give them an inspirational vision of a temple he would like to see built. Joel said he would take it into consideration before he left them again.

Adelfa was waiting for him above, arms folded and a scowl firmly in place. “Proud of yourself, are you?”

“I don’t see why not,” Joel boasted. “The mortals are seeing the value of a separate weather god. Maybe you should try chilling out and stop snooping into what those two are doing. You have to admit, they have a certain artistry to the way they’re rebuilding things. Sausage is still kind of an overachiever but that’s not a bad—”

“You even bothered to learn their names?! Don’t go getting so attached!”

Joel sighed in exasperation. “I’m not getting attached, I’m making allies. Comrades. I have a common goal with them. I can do my job better if they make the land more accessible for rain, and make room for flooded rivers so the banks don’t get washed out all the time. Why isn’t this making you happy? Wasn’t the point to get all the land to flourish again where it was refusing to heal? You clearly couldn’t fix it by yourself.”

“We couldn’t fix it, Joel! We!”

“No, just you. That was never within my ability. I only control the skies, remember?”

Adelfa narrowed their eyes. “Then stop concerning yourself with a couple of land-bound fleas!”

“I just explained myself to you. How about you stop being jealous of them and go do your job? Create some new animals or something. Seriously. Get a hobby, Adelfa. This isn’t the least bit productive. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some mortals to inspire. When was the last time someone built you a temple, by the way? At this rate, those two will get a shrine before that ever happens again!” He cackled, then went on his way as usual.

Adelfa glared after him, then glanced down toward the ground. The two florans were also departing for the next location where they might outshine the irritated god.

~*~

Although they couldn’t be too sure of which continent they had ended up on after a bit of boat travel, Scott and Sausage eventually found a site with some more traces of corrupted soil. There were a few struggling stands of bamboo, and a jungle that looked like it had been ravaged at one point, with almost a dozen large tendrils of bright red corruption wrapped around the tree trunks. They weren’t sure what it meant, and Scott didn’t receive a vision right away this time, so they proceeded with a little caution.

Scott called upon a score of regular vines to wrap around one of the tendrils to begin pulling it off a tree while Sausage made an attempt to climb a different one, waiting to see if he could at least convert it to the blue-green alternative. He had to give up when he nearly slipped; he could swear the stuff had shifted under his foot. He picked his way back to the ground, then imitated Scott’s motions to have vines wrangle the tendril for him.

Once all of them had been pulled to the ground, Sausage tried again to convert them. Scott went to work on the bamboo in the meantime, bolstering the thin clusters and spreading more of it all around until it resembled more of a bamboo forest than just a jungle. He widened his radius, giving Sausage plenty of time – as well as checking for any hidden pockets of corrupted soil. However, the further out he went, the more certain he became that it was only that one spot.

Scott returned just as sunset approached, needing to weave between thicker stands of bamboo because, of course, those had been affected by Sausage, too. When he located his partner, he saw no hint of even the blue-green stuff. He tilted his head in curiosity. “What in the world did you do?”

Sausage sat on a raised tree root, looking pleased with himself. “It wasn’t really cooperating, so I made bamboo grow under the whole thing, and they stabbed up into it, breaking it apart, then I crushed all the bits with roots and vines, and then buried everything underground!” To illustrate, he waved a hand at the root he had been sitting on, sending it back into the soil, which quickly grew over with grass and left no trace. “I’m thinking if we camp out right here for the night, those bits will convert while we sleep!”

“That was a creative way to deal with it,” Scott admitted. “So, do we make a tent out of this insane amount of bamboo you’ve now sprouted, or grow even more until it encloses us?”

“I don’t know – do you think you’ll go sleepwalking again, since there is corruption here, too? There’s actually a little rock outcropping over this way, and that could be two walls we don’t have to worry about constructing. We could even sleep right out under the stars this time, without branches and stuff in the way.” With a smile, Sausage clasped Scott’s hand and guided the way through the bamboo to a little sandy area with a protruding rock face. More of the jungle continued around it, so there was still plenty of cover they could call upon.

“Sure,” Scott agreed. He got to work making moss pillows. “I mean, we’re still going to fall asleep before we see too many of them, but it’s a nice thought.”

It took a bit of doing to get bamboo to start poking through the hard soil despite the sand overtop of it, but Sausage managed to get a small wall up in time before they laid down side by side for the night. He gently took Scott’s hand, entwining his fingers as sleep descended on them. Scott smiled over at him in turn, preferring to gaze at his partner and the peaceful look that lingered on his face rather than concerning himself with the stars.

~*~

No visions or dreams came to him that night, and yet Scott was slow to wake at the break of dawn. What did rouse him was a sort of scrabbling sound, then Sausage’s voice with a note of panic in it. “Scott? Hey, um… something’s wrong. I still look like a floran but this isn’t responding to what I want it to do…”

Scott sat up. He immediately regretted the move as dizziness swept through his head. Sausage had a hand against the bamboo wall. “Hmm. Maybe our powers are starting to wear off, and it’s a sign we’re done and can go home? Kind of wish it happened before we went to sleep. My starborne powers aren’t strong enough during the day to launch out of the atmosphere. Guess that means we’ll wander around until nightfall again.”

“Pearl said she would come get us, right? But it would also be nice if she showed up soon. I could do without the headache…”

“You too, huh?” Scott gave up on standing and sat on his knees instead, one hand braced on the sand. He tried sending out a request through the ground toward the bamboo wall in hopes of lowering it, but he wasn’t able to even sense the stalks properly.

Sausage turned and took a lurching step toward him. “Um… S-Scott? Why do I suddenly feel… so...” He toppled forward, landing on his knees then dropping flat. He let out a whimper and worked to reach one arm toward Scott. His hand fell short, leaving him to gaze at the other floran helplessly.

Scott’s mind raced to make sense of what might be happening as his strength flagged, as well. Then it hit him. “The… The sunlight,” he said, trying to look upward. “Something is wrong with… the sun…” The main source of their power, and vitality too, it seemed. He realized that there was too much of a yellow cast to everything.

He decided not to waste any more time on explanations and instead reached to grasp Sausage’s hand as he, too, fell over. He tried to get a hold on the rest of his partner’s arm to pull both of them closer together if only to hug him and reassure him, but the remainder of his strength failed.

Sausage locked eyes with him and made one last attempt to speak. “I… I lo…” The last word died on his lips as his eyes closed.

“I – I know…” Scott managed to reply, keeping a tight grip on Sausage’s hand before he succumbed to the drain from the altered sunlight.

A golden glow flared into existence in the form of bands around the ring finger of each’s left hand, followed by gold tendrils curling out of the ground between them, winding around their wrists and briefly connecting before disappearing into a spray of glittering motes. Beneath their bodies a layer of grass began to sprout where the sand had previously prevented anything from growing before.

High above, the strange yellow tint also faded out. Adelfa withdrew their splayed hands to their sides and grinned with satisfaction. They then sighed in annoyance when they heard a crackle of thunder.

“Adelfa!!” Joel yelled, fast approaching on a dark storm cloud, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice that?! What have you done?!”

“You’re a little late to be worrying about it now. You’ll have to learn to be faster if you want to prevent other gods from undermining your domain.”

“Or you could stop being insufferable.” Joel scanned the surface below, trying to figure out what the vitriolic nature god had been up to. Then he spotted the two florans where they seemed to have suspiciously been cornered between a rock and a bamboo barrier. “What the heck? They never sleep during the day…”

A smirk crawled onto Adelfa’s face. They waited for him to put the pieces together.

Joel then realized there was no wild plant growth going on around Sausage. “Wait… You did something to them, didn’t you?” He turned an accusatory glare on the other god.

“Well, the job they were supposed to do is pretty much done. I have no more use for them. So, there was only the matter of them to clean up.”

“Y-You didn’t have to murder them!”

“Murder is such a strong word, godling. Why don’t you get back to your storms again and mind your own business? Plants and plant-like creatures aren’t of your concern anymore, remember?”

“But this was wrong! They were helping, and they were harmless!”

“They were about to start getting in my way. Mortals are just toys, Joel. You’ll figure that out eventually.” Adelfa snapped their fingers and disappeared.

Joel stood agape, then angled his cloud to rush downward. He placed it directly over the florans then jumped to the ground beside them. He flicked his fingers at the cloud, producing a light, misty rain. “Hey— Hey, fellas? How does a nice refreshing rainfall sound? A little something to perk up the old, under-watered flowers, yeah?”

He could already see it was pointless from the way the flowers in their hair had begun to wilt. He stopped the rain and sat down with his back against the rock wall, wondering if there was anything he could have done, if he had been faster. He wasn’t sure what Adelfa had done to the sunlight, only that the change in the atmospheric filter had prickled at his senses. He should have summoned clouds to the spot without trying to reach it first. He was able to do that – surely it wasn’t necessary for him to be in a specific location to make the weather behave in a specific way…

He continued to sit and watch over the two until the largest blossoms in their hair faded; the beautiful silvery-white one in Sausage’s, the mystical dark blue one speckled with gold in Scott’s. Joel sighed and moved to get up. He couldn’t just leave them here like this. Perhaps he could bring them to the city that had the shrine to him, and the people there would allow the florans to be laid to rest in their monument to the dead…

He stopped when he felt a pulse of energy pass through the ground into his hand – or was it out of his hand? Either way, he dropped back into a seated position as dozens of the white and blue flowers sprang up around the two florans’ bodies.

Then the bamboo wall collapsed and a figure even taller than Joel stepped into view, her hands suffused with a golden light as she reached toward the pair. He didn’t recognize her at first, but realized there was a resemblance to the farming goddess who he had briefly met when Adelfa none-too-politely introduced the rest of the pantheon to him. “Peril? Is that you? What are you going to do with them?”

She didn’t answer. She picked up the florans, cradling one in each arm, then turned. Joel hopped up to try to follow, hoping to find out something, but then he saw the glimmering Aether portal around the corner. He came to a halt, knowing for certain it was not his place to follow her through.

It remained open for a few minutes. He could see through to the other side, where the goddess stood in a large wooden gazebo. She had worry on her face as she gazed downward. He saw a shimmer pass over the bodies of the two florans, then he saw Sausage grow wings that draped over the mystery goddess’ arm as she continued to hold the two, his clothes turning into pristine white robes and bits of gold-trimmed armor. Next, he saw Scott turn into a glowing purple figure before dimming to a normal humanoid appearance with the same clothes but with star motifs instead of foliage and in hues of blue, black, and violet, a trail of bright motes encircling his head instead of flowers. The goddess placed them on their feet, then she shrank down closer to their heights and threw her arms around both of them in a hug.

The portal closed with the sound of breaking glowstone. Joel stood frozen for a moment, then turned to regard the patch of unique flowers. He then looked at the rock wall with its protruding features and gave some thought to creating something with his own hands.

This wouldn’t require the skills of an architect, but maybe someone with an eye and appreciation for artistry.

~*~

Pearl stepped back after releasing Sausage and Scott, relief beaming from her face. “Boys, I am so sorry. That was not how that job was supposed to end. I was having all sorts of problems getting the local pantheon to cooperate. They’ve got some serious infighting going on over there. Personally, I don’t think it’s going to end well for them later.”

Sausage was happily patting at the feathers of his lower wings, having pulled one around beside his hip. “Don’t apologize, Pearl! We’re used to dying within arm’s length of each other, it’s like a weird pastime or something. But maybe let’s not do it again anytime soon.”

“I’d like to retire from it altogether,” Scott put in. He similarly checked himself over, smiling fondly at the twinkling of his own skin. He sighed with relief. “Back to normal, thank goodness.” He then turned and hugged Sausage tightly.

The seraph patted his back and returned the hug, then moved away to get enough space to stretch out his wings, luxuriating in the feeling before folding them all in. “At least that one was more like fainting instead of being stabbed, or shot by an arrow…” He ticked off the list on his fingers one by one and continued, “…Or an explosion, or—”

“Yes, thanks,” Scott interrupted, “I don’t want to relive those, either.”

Pearl lightly ruffled Sausage’s hair. “It’s good you can keep your sense of humor, my dear angel. I’ll let you get back to building now. You deserve to do some casual work for a bit. I’ll try not to send you on any other big missions for a while, either.” She then turned to Scott with an apologetic look. “As for you, on the other hand…”

She gestured to the opening of the gazebo opposite her wicker throne, where a crimson-hued starborne with black hair and red-rimmed sunglasses stood awkwardly staring in at them. “Sorry to intrude,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, at last.” He cleared his throat and strode across the floor to grasp Scott’s hand with a sincere grip. “Scott, was it? I’m Prince Sparklez. I confess, I need a little help straightening up a few issues – well, a few dozen, maybe? To be honest, all the things they tell you at the academy and my royal training didn’t really prepare me for being out in the field with no mentor. It was harder than it looked!”

Scott offered a patient smile and patted the other starborne’s shoulder. “I was kind of thrown into the job, too. I’ll help you fix whatever you need help with, Your Highness.”

“Oh, um, please just call me Sparklez. I’m a regular old starborne like everyone else! Well, not everyone here, obviously, since we’re in the presence of gods and angels, and. Well. Nothing particularly special about me, no sir-ree…”

“Okay. If you say so.” Scott then turned back to Sausage and hugged him again. “I’ll see you at home later. I’ll try to get back before sunrise here, and we can finally gaze at the stars together. Love you!” He gave a little wave then started out of the gazebo while Sparklez jogged ahead, although the violet starborne glanced over his shoulder once with a tender smile.

“I know!” Sausage called after him in return. He watched the two starbornes launch upward in twin streams of red and purple, his expression soft. Then he cast a thoughtful look at the reflecting pool. “Pearl, is there any way to check in on that other world? I kind of want to let Joel know we’re okay. He might wonder where we’ve gone off to.”

“Joel...?” she asked curiously, yet with a weird undertone that Sausage didn’t pick up on.

“The storm god. Oh, you might not have had to deal with him like the rest of the pantheon. He was pretty new to whole godly responsibilities thing. He seemed nice! He helped us out a few times. I think he liked seeing our progress.”

Pearl clasped her chin with one hand, considering the matter. Then she smiled. “Actually, no, we can’t – I tried to keep track of you, but the pool wouldn’t always attune for some reason. But I have the feeling he knows you’re all right now.”

~*~

Joel stood silently with a candle in one hand, looking over his work for the final time. With hammer, chisel, and some precise erosion techniques, the rock face had been turned into a relief-style statue of two figures facing each other, foreheads leaning together and perhaps implying they were planning to kiss. The one on the right had a hand up as if cradling the side of their partner’s neck, while the one on the left had their hand against the small of the other’s back in an embrace.

The tails of the righthand figure’s overcoat appeared to be swirling in the wind, encompassing the upper legs of both. They appeared to be standing on two different tree roots. In their hair were the same angelflowers and starflowers that stood in the nearby patch which Joel had surrounded with a low border of tumbled river rocks. He had set up a small shrine space in front, and that was where he now set the candle. He lit it with a spark from his finger.

He emitted a gusty sigh, causing the flowers to sway and the candle flame to dip for a second. “Well, wherever you are now, I hope you like this. I think I did all right. I’ll drop some hints and maybe other people will come visit, too. You did a nice job around this spot, so I think someone will find it to be a peaceful sanctuary someday.”

~*~

They say that if you find the flowers seen nowhere else in the world that grow near a memorial to two lovers, you should pick one of each and exchange them with someone you care for, as a sign of your own eternal dedication to your heart’s love.

~End~

[Bonus Artwork by @cynthrey!]

#alsmp #alsmp fanfic #alsmpshipping #scosage #mythicalsausage #scott smajor #dangthatsalongname #joel smallishbeans #pearlescentmoon #captainsparklez #floran!scott #floran!sausage #empires s2 joel #soul liminality 2 #lunar yarns

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wreywrites · 1 year ago

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Tiger Shark

Part 1: The Shark

Chapter 4

Mags wakes me for breakfast the next morning. Casca is here again, and over breakfast, he gives us a breakdown of the day’s schedule. He will work with me until lunch, focusing on manners, posture, and walking in my outfit. This is concerning, but I imagine we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Finnick and Mags will work with Mako on the actual interview, going over common questions and how Mako should present himself to gain the most sponsors. We’ll reconvene for lunch, then switch for the afternoon until Marius and Dalia arrive to take us to the broadcast center and prep us there.

My morning with Casca is not as horrible as I anticipated. He starts by handing me a pair of shoes with six-inch heels.

“I can’t walk in these,” I say flatly.

“You better learn, because Finnick and I have tried arguing with Marius before and we’ve never won.”

The mental image of Finnick and Casca being united on any issue is strange, but I find myself believing him. So I put the shoes on and stand up.

“It’s a good start,” Casca says. He lets me just stand for a while, instructing me on posture (apparently I slouch) and having me tilt my head at various angles until he finds the one that is most flattering (slightly to the right, with my chin pushed forward just the tiniest bit). Then he tells me to walk.

I have walked in heels before. I have even danced in heels before. But nothing like these monstrosities. I nearly roll my ankle on my second step, and Casca intervenes.

“No, no, no, small steps. You’re not in any great rush to get somewhere, and you don’t have far to go anyway. Take small steps. And don’t swing your arms around, only use them as much as you need to.”

By the time Finnick pokes his head in to tell us lunch is ready, my feet ache, but Casca says I’ve made marvelous progress and he could have me waltzing by supper if only we had time. I thank him for his help before devouring several pieces of baked chicken stuffed with ham and cheese.

After lunch, Casca and Mako retreat to the other room. Finnick wastes no time. “So you’re going to be very tall, which will make you very intimidating, especially given that you scored a ten. And you are the tiger shark, so that works well. But I also need people to like you. And you are likeable. So that’s what we want you to show off tonight. You kept up with Gloss, now you need to keep up with Caesar. If you let him know that that’s how you want to play it, he’ll make it easy for you. It’s his job to make everyone look good, so once he knows that you want to be funny, he’ll set you up.”

“How do I tell him? I didn’t think we got to talk beforehand.”

“You don’t. But he’s going to start with something easy. How are you liking the Capitol? How did you feel about being a mermaid? Something like that. The way you respond will tell him how you want the interview to progress. So respond with something confident and funny. Show the people you aren’t taking this too seriously, but when it comes time to kill, you absolutely will do it.”

“The smile that hides the shark,” I say.

Mags nods.

“Sounds fun,” I grin. “Let’s do it.”

All afternoon Finnick asks me questions that seem random. He starts with “How are you liking the Capitol?” and keeps coming back to it about every fourth or fifth question until I come up with a funny enough answer. At one point he says, “Now Annie, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re causing quite a stir among the boys in the Capitol. Anything you’d like to say to your many admirers?”

I respond, “Well, Caesar, I had my fair share of admirers back in Four, so it’s not really a novel experience, though I must say, it’s gonna be hard to go back to seeing fishermen after being surrounded by this many attractive men.” I throw in a wink at what I imagine to be a random part of the audience and then add, “You know who you are.”

Finnick actually laughs. “I hope he asks you that! Funny, confident, subtle callout to Gloss, he’s going to love it, and you said it’s going to be hard to go back to Four.” He smiles. “You didn’t say if you go back to Four it will be hard, you said you’re going back and it will be hard. There’s more confidence in that statement than if you just said Caesar, I’m going to win. That’s why I like it.”

We go through dozens of questions until Finnick seems to be out. Mags suddenly grabs his arm and shows him her notepad.

“Oh yes! Can’t forget. We want you to somehow tell Caesar about your nickname. He needs to know that people in Four call you Tiger Shark. Doesn’t matter that only six or seven people actually do, he just needs to know it’s a nickname from home and that it fits, because if there is one thing Caesar Flickerman loves, it’s a good nickname.”

“Alright, how do I do that?”

“He’ll ask something like How are you feeling about the Games? And you just say, “Well, Caesar, back home they called me the Tiger Shark, and that’s the attitude I plan on bringing to the arena.”

I nod.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The prep teams arrive a few minutes later and we all take an elevator to the ground floor where we enter a long hallway that will take us to the nearby square where the interviews will be conducted. Once there, they send Mako and I to shower before they start working on us.

When I return to the main room in our dressing area, Finnick is telling Mako about some of the sponsors he already has lined up while Dalia plucks a few stray hairs from his eyebrows.

“Oh good, you’re done!” Finnick wriggles away from Dalia, who rolls her eyes and directs her tweezers at Mako’s eyebrows instead. There is a look of genuine annoyance on Finnick’s face for only a second, but he hides it quickly, grabbing my shoulders with a grin and steering me to a chair, where, to my disappointment, Marius is waiting.

Marius starts fixing my fingernails, and Finnick launches into a speech it sounds like he’s been waiting all day to give. “Gloss is still angry about Titus Vickers, but in reality, Titus hasn’t promised us anything, just told Gloss he’s looking at District Four’s girl.” He points at me, “You don’t need to tell Gloss that, I just thought it might interest you. Titus is big, even for the Capitol, so he’ll have a good seat tonight and he’ll want to be impressed, so make sure you impress him.” Finnick turns to Mako. “And you’ve got a whole girls’ prep school sponsoring you already, which is purely luck of being the most handsome, but still not something to scoff at. And I’ve got some of the old standbys, people good for a blanket or some bread and water every year. And now you get your chance to win everyone else over. Just remember what you talked about with us and with Casca, and please don’t twist your ankle in those shoes,” he says as Prep 2 sets another pair of six-in heels next to my chair. “I cannot do anything for you, no matter how many sponsors you get, if your ankle doesn’t work.”

“Got it,” I say as Marius finishes with my fingernails, which he has painted the pale cream of sea foam then detailed with sea-green swirls. Glancing at my feet, I see Preps 1 and 3 are doing those nails the same way.

“You still need a shower,” Dalia says to Finnick. “You have to look good tonight too.”

“How come you never pick on Mags like this?” Finnick says, though he is already headed in the direction of the showers.

Mags gives him a winning smile and Dalia gestures at her. “That’s why. Mags is already beautiful.”

“No one has ever accused me of not being already beautiful before,” Finnick says as he turns the corner and disappears from sight.

Dalia rolls her eyes. “All right, Mako, let’s go get you dressed.” She leads him and his prep team into one of the side rooms.

My prep team continues to work for a few more minutes until Prep 3 announces, “Toes done!”

“Excellent,” Marius says, “Beautiful, ladies. Now let’s get you into your dress.”

They lead me into another side room where I remove the comfy pants and shirt I have been wearing all day and they help me into a sea-green, knee-length dress. It is the same color as my reaping dress.

Even Marius is smiling as he laces up the back. “When I saw your dress at the reaping, it was… perfect. Just perfect for you. I designed this one to reflect it.”

The Preps go to work on my hair, the same pile of twists and braids as the Parade, minus the crown, and Marius starts on my shoes.

It is a good thing I am seated, because the shoes seem to have to be assembled around my feet. The base is a solid wedge of what looks like wood but is far too light, and what becomes the straps looks like rope, but is soft to the touch. Marius tells me it is leather, carefully distressed to look like the rigging on a ship. This strikes me as pretentious, but it is also far more comfortable than actual rigging would be, so I keep my mouth shut.

When Marius is finished wrapping the straps around my legs, the heels are seamlessly bound to my feet, and feel quite sturdy. The straps go nearly up to my knees, winding around my calves.

Marius nods to himself. “Finnick said, and I am quoting him directly, I want her to look like she could kill a man in those heels.”

He puts the finishing touches on my hair and does the same simple makeup from the Parade, then offers me his hand and helps me to my feet.

The heels are something of a wonder. They feel like an extension of my feet, so solid and balanced I do not for a second question my ability to walk, dance, even run in them. I walk easily to the mirror, where Marius steps back to admire his work and leaves me to admire my own reflection.

I am indeed beautiful, and the dress has served to accentuate that, but Marius has done something else too. He has made me look dangerous. I am the queen of the sea, whose attention is sought by all, but whose wrath is swift and terrible. Telling Caesar Flickerman that they call me the Tiger Shark will not be hard at all.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Finnick nods when I walk into the main room of our dressing area. “Nice. Marius, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Mako, sitting on the couch in a stunning, and glittery, midnight blue suit, just grins at me stupidly. I grin back. Maybe we can mend this alliance before tomorrow morning.

Marius gives a small bow. “What can I say?” He and the Preps leave to take their seats.

Mags takes my hands, smiling, and gives me an encouraging nod, then gestures to Finnick.

“Yes.” Finnick stands. He is holding my necklace and Mako’s ring. He hands Mako the ring, then ties the necklace around my neck. “We’d better get going. Get you kids lined up and get ourselves sat down somewhere.” He and Mags walk us out of the dressing area and down the hallway where they leave us in the care of a few technicians, who direct us where to stand in line, when to move forward, and how to enter the stage.

Then we wait. With these heels, I am taller than all the other tributes by at least three inches.

“Those hurt your feet?” Mako asks.

“No,” I say, balancing on one foot and holding the other up so he can examine it more closely. He seems fascinated by the knot structure. “They’re actually pretty… I guess I don’t know, I don’t really notice them.”

“Fitted to your feet that well,” Mako nods. “And I don’t know where the end of the knot is, so it has to be very secure. I like them. They suit you.” He smiles at me, a genuine smile.

“Mako, I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

He shakes his head. “I forgive you. And I shouldn’t have taken it so personally, or taken all my frustration from this last week out on you. It wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.” He offers his hand.

I smile and shake it. “Friends?”

“Friends. Allies, even,” he winks.

The screens on the walls flick on and we watch Caesar begin the broadcast.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been anxiously waiting all week, and tonight is finally the night to meet our tributes! Who’s excited?” The massive audience roars.

“Me too!” Caesar bounces up and down like a small child on his birthday. “Let’s get started, shall we? From District One, Taffeta Venley!”

The girl from One walks out the door at the end of our little hallway and appears on the screen, smiling and waving as she joins Caesar at the center of the stage. They sit in large, slightly overstuffed armchairs, though Caesar in his excitement only uses the edge of his.

“How are you playing it?” Mako whispers as the line shuffles forward to put Farroe in front of the door.

“Sharklike,” I whisper back. “You?”

“Same.”

“He tell you to be funny?”

“Nope, just confident. Likable, but not pants-charming.”

“He actually said that, didn’t he?”

“Yep.” There is a pause. “He told you to be funny?”

“Yeah. Said I could keep up with Gloss, so he thought I could keep up with Caesar too.”

Mako nods. “Makes sense.”

“Were you at all worried about matching Caesar in that suit?”

“No. Remember, it was this color like two or three years ago. He’s not due for a repeat yet.”

“Oh yeah.” Tonight Caesar’s suit and hair are deep purple. He and Mako will look good next to each other.

We stand in silence as first Farroe then Two and Three do their interviews. Caesar, as usual, is managing to make everyone look good.

The magnitude of what is about to happen doesn’t hit me until the technician at the door opens it and gestures me through as Caesar says, “And now, from District Four, everyone’s favorite redhead, Annie Cresta!”

I take a deep breath, put the most charming smile I can muster on my face, and walk onto the stage.

The crowd roars. Someone is whistling. Probably more than one someone, actually. I survey the best seats as I walk, finding Mags and Finnick among the other mentors, and the style teams off to one side.

Caesar extends his hand as I near him. I take it, thinking he is going to help me sit as he has done with the three other girls, but he does not.

“Annie,” he says, “We all knew you were tall when we saw the reaping, but I don’t think anyone comprehended how tall until right now!”

I smile. “Well, I am cheating a little.” I lean forward slightly to look at the shoes and guide the audience’s attention to them. “But I am pretty tall without them.”

“I’ll say so!” Caesar says. “Now I know how Claudius feels.”

The audience laughs and I laugh with them. Caesar beckons me to my chair.

Deciding to take a cue from him, I sit on the edge of it, with my feet under me and slightly off to the side, hopefully emphasizing the ridiculous shoes and just how long my legs are.

“So Annie,” Caesar says, “I’ve been asking everyone, how do you like the Capitol?”

“I gotta say, Caesar, I love the cream cheese rolls. I think I’ve eaten a hundred of them. If you cut me, I would bleed cream cheese.”

Caesar laughs. “To all you potential sponsors in the audience, I think I have an idea of what you should send her!”

The audience laughs with him.

“Now Annie, I don’t know if you know this, but you’ve developed quite a following in the Capitol. Among all of us, obviously, but you’re especially popular with our young men. How do you feel about that?”

I laugh. “I wish I could say it was a surprise, but I’ve always been popular. I will say, though, it’s gonna be hard to go back to Four and only have fishermen around after being surrounded by this many attractive men.” I decide to go for it. I shoot a wink at Gloss, who is about five seats to the left of Mags, and say, “You know who you are.”

The crowd loses it. Someone shouts, “I love you, Annie!” and even I have to laugh.

Caesar, still chuckling, suddenly grows serious, “But Annie, you do know Finnick Odair lives in Four? How can you not, he’s here as your mentor!”

The cameras find Finnick, putting his face on the screen behind us for a few seconds.

I laugh. “Oh Caesar, there’s more to life than Finnick Odair. We see him all the time at home, so it’s not really anything special. At the market—Finnick Odair. Swimming—Finnick Odair. Walking home from school—Finnick Odair. We don’t even call him Finnick when we see him, we just say, ‘Odair he is,’ and move on with life.”

The crowd cannot get enough. As the laughter fades, I hear a few people, still giggling, repeating “Odair he is!”

Caesar scrutinizes me playfully. “So what you’re saying is that, while Mr. Odair may be exciting for the rest of us, he’s old hat to you. You’d rather see somebody new and exotic, like, uh, Gloss!”

The screen behind us shows Gloss. He laughs.

“Caesar, that is exactly what I’m saying!”

Finnick is laughing so hard he is crying. Mags is shaking with laughter next to him. Gloss stands and blows me a kiss, which I catch and plant on my cheek. “Why thank you!”

Chuckling, Caesar says, “Well Annie, I have one last question for you. Are you ready for the Hunger Games?”

This is my time. “Well, Caesar, back home they called me the Tiger Shark, and I don’t know if you’ve ever met one of those, but-” Caesar is shaking his head at the crowd, eyes wide in mock terror, “-they’re always ready for anything. And they’re not something to be trifled with.”

“Have you ever met one? A tiger shark?” Caesar is, somehow, even more on the edge of his seat.

“Oh yeah.” I smile fondly at the memory. “I was lobster diving once, and I looked up and there she was, this huge, beautiful girl, just swimming by, giving me a once-over. And I just watched her. I knew she wasn’t going to hurt me, but it’s still not a situation where you want to panic or swim away or something.”

“Weren’t you afraid?”

“Terrified!” I laugh. “But that’s the thing about sharks. They just want to live their lives. They’ll watch you swim, maybe get a little closer and investigate, but they don’t just attack. They won’t mess with you unless you mess with them. But if you mess with a shark…” I trail off, half a smile on my face.

Caesar nods. He stands and offers me his hand again and helps me to my feet, showing me off to the audience one last time. “There you have her, folks, Annie Cresta, the Tiger Shark of Four!”

The audience roars again as Caesar escorts me part of the way to the back of the stage, where twenty-four chairs are set up in a line and the already-interviewed tributes are sitting, watching politely from the background. I sit down next to the boy from Three as Caesar reaches his chair and says, “And now, for our second shark of the night, also from District Four, Mako Silther!”

Mako strides out from the side of the stage, smiling at the audience. Caesar shakes his hand before they both sit, Caesar once again perching on the front three inches of his chair, Mako leaning back, one arm hanging over the back of his chair and one ankle hanging over the opposite knee.

“Now, Mako, correct me if I’m wrong, but a mako is a kind of shark, yes?”

Mako nods. “Not the biggest, or most powerful, but they’re sure fast and flashy.”

“So would you say that describes you as well?”

“Maybe the opposite, in fact. I’m a big guy and not particularly flashy, though this suit is growing on me.”

“I’d go so far as to say you can take my job when I retire. You look like you were born to wear sparkly suits,” Caesar says with a glance at the crowd. “He looks good, doesn’t he, ladies?”

There are wild cheers in response.

“District Four certainly has made a splash this year. How do you feel about all your admirers?”

Mako smiles at the audience. “I wish I could meet you all. Though I suppose if I win there’ll be plenty of time for meet and greets.”

He said if.

I look at Finnick in the audience. Somehow, he hasn’t reacted. I can see it on the faces of some of the other mentors though. They all know as well as I that saying if is a fatal slip. You can have the tone of the most confident person in the room, but saying if shows that subconsciously, you aren’t sure. My gaze drifts along the mentors, sizing them all up. Some are old, not as old as Mags, but full of years nonetheless. There is Haymitch Abernathy, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and like he knows exactly how big of a mistake Mako just made. Megary Fallon has a gaze of steel. And there is Gloss, who is not looking at Mako, or Caesar, or quietly conferring with his co-mentor, a middle-aged woman whose name I cannot remember, though I recognize her as Cashmere’s mentor. No, he is looking at me, smiling.

It is deeply disquieting. I wish I knew what he was thinking. But after only a second of eye contact, he looks away, once again absorbed in the interview. I wonder how long he was looking at me, waiting for me to look back. It occurs to me that he could very well be playing mind games with me; not interested at all, just trying to distract me. It is working, though now I am not distracted with how life could have been had I only grown up in District One, I am distracted by annoyance at his head games. No sooner have I thought this than I remember Finnick saying during one of our late-night chats that he wasn’t sure Gloss was smart enough to actually out-think anyone with a halfway complicated plan. Maybe he is just making sure I remember him if—no, when—I win.

I’m beginning to confuse myself with all this when I am jerked back to reality by Caesar saying my name.

“And what about Annie?”

“What about her?” Mako says.

“I have it on good authority that you two are quite close.” Caesar draws out the last two words, giving the audience plenty of time to think them over before Mako can respond.

“We’ve been neighbors since she and her parents moved down the street when we were like five. Been classmates our whole lives.”

“Hmmm,” Caesar says, then turns his head to look at the screen behind us. The other six tributes and I turn as well, and my heart drops into my stomach.

It’s a video from the security camera in front of the medical office on the docks. The time stamp shows twelve days ago, and my fishing crew is disembarking, walking up the dock. There is no sound, but we are talking and laughing. I even remember what we were joking about, which means I know what is going to happen. Mako steps out from the doorway of my father’s dockside office, holding a handful of flowers. He holds them out and I take them with a smile. The fishing crew keeps walking, calling back their goodnights to me, and Mako and I kiss.

The audience gasps. I try very hard not to react and can only hope I am succeeding. Mako, for his part, looks collected. I can’t even bring myself to look at Finnick and Mags.

“Well?” Caesar says.

“What can I say that you haven’t already told her?” Mako grins, confident. I hope he has a plan. “She’s turned the head of everyone in the Capitol, including someone who I’ve been told is the most beautiful man alive, and you thought I’d never noticed her before?” He shakes his head. “If anything, I’m just sad I’ve had to share her these last few days.”

Caesar nods knowingly. “Now I’m sure we all want to know, are you afraid of becoming the next Cally and Alvan?”

The pair from Ten. Everyone remembers. They were the last two. The Gamemakers thought they could make it into some big show, these two fighting to the death. But they didn’t. They just sat, rationing the food they had. After days, the Gamemakers dried up all the water in the arena. The only thing sponsors could buy was food. And after three more days, the girl, Cally, stood up and walked over to Alvan, the boy, and knelt down in front of him. We all thought she was going to end it. But she didn’t. She set the knife down and the two began signing back and forth. I guess they have a system like Taps in Ten, but it’s hand signals instead.

Anyway, no one knew what was happening, except the people in Ten who knew Signals, I suppose. After several minutes, Alvan nodded. Cally smiled at him, picked up the knife, and put it in his hand. He put one hand on her cheek, and with the other, stabbed up under her ribs.

She was dead before she hit the ground.

The one thing everyone remembers from the Fifty-Ninth Hunger Games was jumping when the cannon sounded. It was so quiet, and we were all so engrossed in the pair from Ten, and then Cally was dead.

“Nobody wants to be them.” Mako says. “Dying slowly like that. I can promise you that won’t happen.”

Caesar raises an eyebrow. “So you have a plan?”

Mako laughs. “Caesar, I’m not going to announce my plans before I go into the arena. That would be foolish.”

Caesar gives a nod of concession.

“But I will say, I don’t need a plan for that. I’ve been doing the math, and there are twenty-four of us, which means that there are twenty-two other people who want to kill Annie and me, and statistically it’s as good as certain that one of them will succeed in killing one of us. Or maybe even both, who knows. All I’m saying is I’m not worried about fighting her, because we won’t have to. Somebody will make that decision for us.”

Caesar nods, then leans forward a little. “We all hope it doesn’t come to this, but if it were to become just the two of you, could you do it? Could you do what it takes to win?”

“Have you ever been in love, Caesar?”

Caesar seems surprised by this turn of the conversation, but smiles anyway and says, “Happily married, in fact.”

Mako nods, then says simply, “Could you do it?”

The question hangs in the air for fourteen seconds. I know because I was counting. I didn’t know how else to keep from reacting to such a wildly rebellious statement.

There is still silence when the gong sounds the end of Mako’s interview time. He stands, unprompted by Caesar, and walks toward me. Mako is halfway to his chair when Caesar snaps back to reality and says, “There you have them, the sharks and lovers from Four!”

The audience applauds, but it seems more out of a sense of duty than real excitement. It is certainly not the same applause that followed me to the back of the stage.

Mako sits next to me and offers his hand. I take it, lacing our fingers together and bridging the gap between our seats. I smile at him as Caesar calls out the girl from Five. Halfway through her interview, I work up the courage to look at Finnick.

He is looking at us, and gives me the tiniest of nods. I don’t know how our strategy for the arena will change, but I do at least know that holding hands like this was the right move, even if it makes me want to die.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

I don’t really listen to the rest of the interviews. When Jilly from Nine comes out, I briefly pay attention for long enough to hear that she is tired of everyone discounting Nine because they grow grain, and she assures the audience that while a scythe may not be as high-profile as a sword or a spear, it can kill just as well.

When all twenty-four of the chairs at the back of the stage are full, Caesar signs off with, “There you have them, folks, the tributes of the Seventieth Hunger Games!”

The audience roars again as we all stand. The lights fade, and we are signaled off the stage.

Back in the hallway, we mill around awkwardly, no one wanting to talk to anyone else. After several minutes, mentors begin arriving, talking to, and eventually leaving with their tributes. Seven goes first, then Three, then Gloss and the older woman arrive. She begins talking to their tributes, and without consciously deciding what I am going to do, I walk toward Gloss. He glances up when I am about five steps away and smiles. But this interaction will happen on my terms.

It is very unromantic. I put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him without prelude. But from the first touch, I can tell he is not surprised by this turn of events. Still, his hands are on my waist and he is kissing me.

After several seconds, I break away. I have no intention of speaking to him, but before I can leave dramatically, he smiles at me. “Always a pleasure.”

I do not respond.

Mags and Finnick have already joined Mako, and from the looks on all three of their faces, they have witnessed my apparent descent into madness. No one says anything. Mags takes the lead, bringing us back through the long hallway and to the tribute center. We get in an elevator and take it in silence to the fourth floor.

When the elevator doors close behind us and we are safely alone in our living space, Finnick says, “New plan.”

“New plan?” Mako stares at him. “You saw what just happened!”

“She spent her whole interview setting that up, and honestly, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is what you two are going to do now that the Capitol knows your little secret, okay?”

I nod. I am ready to accept any and all consequences of everything that happened tonight.

Mako sighs. “Okay.”

“Good.” Finnick nods once. “Now you have to stick together in the arena. Obviously. And everyone knows you’re in love, so play that up as much or as little as you want. Mags and I can work with anything out here. I want you to go to the cornucopia, get everything you want and then some, and then fight your way out. Find water and a good place to settle in that’s a safe distance away, but not too far. Then—and this is the most important part—live confidently. Build fires, don’t use your inside voices, live life. Let everyone else come to you. And when they do, kill them.”

“What if we’re the last two?” Mako says.

“What if you are? Do you trust anyone else watching your back?”

Our silence is answer enough.

“You won’t be,” Finnick says. “Most of the other tributes are going to see the two of you as the biggest threat. Individually, you’re scary enough, but now they know that you know each other well, which makes you a team that knows how to work together well already. You’ll be top of a lot of kill lists. And like you said, statistically, someone is going to succeed in killing one of you before the other one has to.”

We nod.

The projector screen on the wall shimmers with the Capitol’s insignia. “Shall we watch the replay?” Finnick asks.

Mags, Mako, and I sit down as Finnick turns up the volume, then goes to the table to get the plate of cream cheese rolls. When he returns, I see there are twice as many as usual. I smile as I take one and pass the plate to Mako.

Finnick sits next to me on the couch as Taffeta begins her interview. “Can I see your shoe?” he asks quietly.

I glance at him with a raised eyebrow, but kink my knee so I can put my foot in his lap. He spends the next five interviews examining every inch of the shoe: the carefully wrapped and twisted straps, the hidden knots, the patterns. He stops to watch my interview. When we get to the “Odair he is” part, he looks at Mako and me and says, “People really say that, don’t they?”

Mako is smiling as he looks back at Finnick. “Yes, we really all say that. It’s mostly out of love though. We might all act like you drive us up the mast, but deep down… you’re Finnick Odair, and you’re from Four, and that makes you family.” He must be feeling sentimental given our hours of freedom can now be counted on fingers and toes.

We lapse back into silence for Mako’s interview, after which Finnick says, “Really, I think you handled it as well as you could have.”

We each eat another cream cheese roll and watch the rest of the interviews in silence. Sometime during the boy from Eight, Finnick makes a small sound of delight and tugs on one of the straps on my shoe. The pattern of twists and knots falls apart, leaving a mass of distressed leather on the couch.

When the interviews are over, Mags goes to bed. The remaining three of us eat the rest of the rolls while the highlight reel of Enobaria’s Games plays. I stand to leave when Claudius and Caesar’s commentary says that the alliance of One, Two, and Eight can’t last much longer. In about five minutes she will rip out the boy from One’s throat with her teeth, and I have no desire to watch that.

Finnick and Mako stand at the same time, leaving us all standing, looking at each other, unsure who should go first.

Finally Finnick says, “Good luck tomorrow, and every day after that. I have faith in both of you.”

“Thanks, Finnick,” Mako says.

I nod. “Thank you.”

Finnick gestures at my foot. I realize I am still wearing the other shoe. I kick my foot up into his waiting hand. He yanks the end of the strap and my shoe practically dissolves, but it also pulls me off balance and I stagger against him.

He pulls me into a hug and breathes into my ear, “Don’t let it come down to the two of you.” He lets go, making sure I have balanced myself on both un-shoed feet, and then walks away, down the hall.

Finnick Odair knows that even in the best-case scenario, he can only bring one of us home. He knows that no matter what, it is likely Mako and I will both die, but even if we don’t both die, one of us will. He knows he has to pick one of us to save.

And Finnick Odair has chosen me.

****

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#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #finnick odair #caesar flickerman #mentions of canon typical violence #i love writing caesar #happy end of part 1!

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tlcwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Fall to Pieces- Part 3

Poe Dameron x Reader, Modern AU

“Trauma is trauma. Some people aren’t affected by it and some people struggle with it their whole lives.” Using her finger to jab him in the chest, she emphasizes each word. “That. Doesn’t. Make. Anyone. Weak.”

Word Count: 5179

Tags/Warnings: Frank discussions about PTSD/destructive coping mechanisms, explicit description of a panic attack, and brief implications of suicidal ideations. Angst. Y'all probably know that by now. Finally crawling out of the angst hole. Miss Patty is a BAMF. Finn and Poe Finn-and-Poe-ing. Probably a lot of typos because I had my husband proofread this and he is a wonderful husband but a terrible editor.

Author’s Note: This chapter includes frank discussions about PTSD/destructive coping mechanisms, explicit description of a panic attack, and brief implications of suicidal ideations. Please take care and do not proceed if any of those subjects are triggers for you. Also, please send me a message if you're not able to read because of those topics, and I'd be happy to send you either a chapter summary or a version of this chapter with those sections omitted. I wanted to have this out weeks ago, but I ended up rewriting it I'm not exaggerating four times because I couldn't get it to feel right. I love this final product, and I hope you do, too. And yes, my goddess Octavia Spencer is my face claim for Miss Patty. Thank you to @paper-n-ashes for the beta and for patiently listening to me ramble at all hours of both of our timezones. Love you, boo!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Series Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 4

Goodbye, Poe.

It won’t stop ringing in his ears.

Goodbye, Poe.

His heart is beating so hard and fast he feels lightheaded.

Goodbye, Poe.

He can’t stop staring at the door. You’re going to walk back through any second, he’s sure; he needs for you to walk back in, so that he can fall to his knees and beg for-

What? You’ve said how you feel. What could have changed in the twenty seconds since you walked out the door, possibly walked out of his life, since he finally, finally kissed you and oh god he needs to go after you, he’s got to apologize, grovel, anything-

He’s halfway out of his seat when a hand grabs his arm.

“What in the hell was that?!” Patty is gripping his bicep, dragging him towards the door that leads to the restrooms. “What in the hell was that?”

“I-” Poe can’t make his body cooperate with his brain. “She- I’ve got to-”

“Nuh uh,” Patty interrupts. “What you’ve got to do is sit your ass back down, you crazy-” She bullies him onto the bench outside the men’s room, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips, 5 feet even of disappointment and ire. His head is nearly level with hers, and he’s not an overly tall man; how she manages to still be so intimidating is beyond him. “What were you thinking, Poe?!”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, I have no idea- we just, we were normal and then she asked me…” His voice dies in his throat, unable or unwilling to verbalize what had just happened, because if he does that, it makes it true, and she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t want him-

Patty pinches the bridge of her nose. “Lord, save me from the Dameron men and their idiocy.”

“Hey!” Poe’s not so out of it to ignore that. “Look, Patty, I-”

“If you’re gonna speak to me like that, it’s Ms Kanata to you, kid, and no. I talk, you listen, and then we’ll see if you get a say.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t care what just happened between the two of you, but whatever you did, you fix it, and you fix it immediately.”

“I didn’t-”

She waves a hand. “I didn’t ask if you did, or she did, or you both did, or if the President of the United States did.” Some of Patty’s ferocity visibly ebbs as she sighs deeply, and she looks at Poe with a look that’s tinged with compassion. “You told her.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Poe, refusing to make eye contact, nods once.

“And did she tell you?”

The inquiry makes his head snap up and he gapes at the matron. “You- she told you before she told me?!”

“Of course not.” Patty shakes her head, wearily joining Poe on the bench. “But I’ve been around for a long time, kiddo, and these glasses work just fine. Anyone can see how that girl looks at you.” She pats his shoulder affectionately. “It’s the same way you look at her.”

Poe shakes his head, dropping his gaze back to his hands. He’d touched you, tasted you, finally, the way he always dreamed. And you’d reciprocated, even after you’d insisted things couldn’t remain unchanged.

And then you’d fled.

You’d left him without a backwards glance.

It’s going to play on a loop inside his head for the rest of his life. Talk about watching your worst nightmare come true right in front of your eyes.

The worst part is, he can’t even blame you. Who the fuck would want to be shakled to a man with a freighter full of baggage, when they could have someone like Yeager?

Patty grasps his hand, reclaiming his attention. “What. Happened.” It’s an edict.

“She-” The words are ash in his mouth, the shame overwhelming him until he’s drowning in it, and fuck, this is exactly why he didn’t fucking say anything, because he’s a fucking defective ex-soldier with exactly nothing to offer besides nightmares and flashbacks and a whole lot of baggage, and motherfucking damnit why why why had he let you push him into confessing his gravest sin?

Another sob bubbles from his chest and he feels like he’s going to fly out of his skin. “I fucked up, Miss Patty,” he admits, his voice breaking as his gut starts to twist and his heart starts to race and then the lump in his throat feels bigger and bigger until he feels like he’s choking on it.

He can vaguely hear Patty over the roaring in his ears, but her words are washed away as his body begins to shut down and lock until he’s in agony. He falls off of the bench and lands heavily on his hands and knees. Even the pain doesn’t break him out of his own personal hell, and his nails dig against the linoleum as his breathing speeds until it’s suffocating. The vice around his ribs tightens with each shallow, gasping breath he’s able to suck in, until it’s crushing his lungs and he can’t breath and he can’t fucking breathe and fucking god this is what it feels like to die, isn’t it? This had to be what it felt like for Private Vanik, because surely there’s no coming back from this.

He’s sure he’d be screaming if he could draw a breath, but he can’t make his teeth unclench enough to let out more than the occasional broken squeal. He wants to cry out for help, for you, for his dad, for his mom. Fuck he wants his mamá. Because he can’t breathe, he can’t make it stop, he can’t make any of it stop, and for the love of everything please just let it end, let him die, whatever it takes to make. It. Stop.

Patty is pressed against his back now, taking deep, exaggerated breaths. At the back of his mind, he recognizes what she’s doing, trying to give him something to measure and try to mimic. It’s impossible. He’s starting to get lightheaded, because fucking christ he can’t fucking breathe and his body is holding him hostage and fuck, this is it, this has to be his recompense; for you, for Vanik, for his mom, for everyone he’s ever wronged, motherfucker it hurts so much. This, this is what he tried to spare you from, because the first time you see him like this, you’ll refuse to leave him because you’re so good and loving and he can’t possibly saddle you with a lifetime of this, but it doesn’t matter because he’s sure he’s seconds from suffocating. And maybe it’s a good thing, because if he dies, you’ll be free of the pain he’s caused you with his mistakes, and you’ll able to move on and be happy with fucking Yeager, and fuck if that dosn’t make his chest tighten more, how can his lungs squeeze this much, fucking fuck he’s about to be put out of his misery by his own thorax.

And just as suddenly as it started, it starts to fade.

The bands around his ribs loosen infinitesimally. The cacophony in his ears grows slightly quieter. Now he can hear Patty coaching him through breathing, and he desperately tries to imitate her steady pattern.

“That’s it, honey,” he hears her say, more clearly now. “Deep breaths, Poe. You’re safe, you’re not alone, I’ve got you, okay? In, and out…”

It takes an eternity, or maybe it’s just minutes, even seconds- he has zero concept of time right now- before he’s able to regain enough control over his body that he can fully expand his lungs. Patty carefully moves off of his back, and he half twists, half falls from his knees onto his backside. Resting his arms on his bent knees, continuing to catch his breath, he feels the weight of her gaze, and he’s mortified that anyone, especially Patty, bore witness to his weakness.

“Sorry,” he finally wheezes, still unable to meet her eyes.

“For what?” Her voice is genuinely curious.

He makes a halfhearted gesture with his hand. “For... that.” When she doesn't respond, he risks a look up.

The compassion and care in her eyes are unanticipated, and humbling. “Poe,” she finally says, speaking slowly and softly, “Why would you think you need to apologize for something you can’t control?”

Because my fuckup killed someone and this shit is my karma, he wants to say, but he can’t make himself do more than shrug.

“Here-” Patty reaches for him, “-let’s get you off the floor.” She helps him heave himself back onto the bench, before ordering him to stay right there. He keeps up the steady breaths as she ducks back into the kitchen, returning with a cold bottle of water. Poe takes it without complaint.

She’s silent as he rehydrates his exhausted body, but he can feel her watching him closely; whether keeping an eye out for any sign he’s going to fall victim to another attack, or out of motherly concern, he couldn’t say.

When he finally finishes the water and wipes his mouth with his sleeve, he still doesn’t have the strength to look up. “I’m sorry, because I should be able to control it.”

She scoffs. “Should a sailor be able to control the ocean? Should a pilot be able to control the clouds?” She lays a hand on his knee. “Kiddo, I know PTSD when I see it. It’s not your fault. And how it shows itself isn’t your fault, either.”

“It is my fault, ‘cause I’m the one who caused it,” he insists, his shame heavy on his shoulders. “I’m the one who- fuck, I made a mistake during- there was, I didn’t-” Hell, he can’t even speak clearly now? “I didn’t catch something until it was too late, and a soldier ended up dying because of it, because I didn’t do my fucking job, and I didn’t fucking notice. So, yeah, it’s my fault.” Why can’t anyone understand this? “I’m still here, it was my fault but I’m still fucking here, and he-” He can’t suppress a bitter laugh. “I deserve a lot worse.”

“Bullshit.”

He jerks his head up, his protests ready, but the expression on Patty’s face startles him into silence.

She stares him down with the kind of look you can only possess if you’ve seen some shit, and lived through more. “PTSD isn’t a punishment. You experienced something that would have been traumatic for anyone, and your brain processed it a certain way. You can’t change that. Poe, look at me.” She waits until he does before she continues, “I’m sorry about your friend. Truly. And I’m sorry you feel like it’s your fault. But a mistake is an accident. Punishing yourself for an accident isn’t fair to you, or to your friend’s memory. Making yourself suffer needlessly won’t bring him back.

“You’re not broken, honey. You’re not damaged, and you don’t need to be fixed. You’re human. Sure, getting you some help to handle what you’re dealing with is probably necessary.” She nudges him with an elbow. “But that doesn’t mean you deserve to stay hurting. You’ve got too big of a heart to deserve a hell like that.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t look away (see? Growth!). “I don’t want to feel like this.”

Her smile is sympathetic. “Of course you don’t. Who would?”

“But I’m too fucking weak to stop it,” he scorns.

Patty’s face turns thunderous. “You ever say that in front of me again, Poe Dameron, and you don’t want to know what I’ll do.”

Poe is shocked enough at her fury that his mouth snaps shut.

She continues to glower at him. “Trauma is trauma. Some people aren’t affected by it and some people struggle with it their whole lives.” Using her finger to jab him in the chest, she emphasizes each word. “That. Doesn’t. Make. Anyone. Weak.”

“Miss Patty-”

“Hush!” She slices the air with her hand. “Do you think I’m weak?”

His curls fly as he rapidly shakes his head. “Of course not.” She’s one of the biggest badasses he’s ever met in his life, and he knows Senator Organa.

Patty crosses her arms over her chest. “And if I tell you I had nightmares for almost a decade after I was in a car crash that killed my sister?”

“What?” Poe tries really hard not to gape, but he can tell he fails.

“I would wake up screaming every night for years. I felt like I didn’t deserve to have lived when she’d died. And you know what?” Patty leans forward. “It took a long time, but I healed. I got help. I got a therapist. I still see her every single week, and that was twenty something years ago. And over time, after a lot of tears and a lot of guilt and a lot of pain, it got easier to laugh without feeling guilty, and thinking of her didn’t make me want to rip my own heart out. Poe-” She scoots off the bench and stands in front of him, both hands on his shoulders. “Being affected by trauma isn’t a weakness. And trauma doesn’t make you unworthy of anything.”

“I-”

“No, kiddo. You need to hear me. You’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to be in love. You’re allowed to laugh, and have fun, and be happy, and to be all those things with the woman you’ve loved your whole life.” She moves one hand to his cheek. “You owe it to everyone who isn’t here anymore to not live your life like you’re already gone, too.”

For one of the only times in his life, Poe is honestly speechless. He can feel his lower lip trembling. And even though he tries his hardest to hold back the torrent, it overwhelms the levees he’s built around his heart and he crumbles, his sobs coming from a place he’s kept buried so deep he has no idea how they find their way to the surface.

Patty wraps her arms around his shoulders as he weeps out his sins and his shame, not saying a word, just providing the presence and touch he needs to keep him grounded. And when his catharsis quiets, she rejoins him on the bench. “How you feeling, kid?”

“Like hot garbage.” And understandably, he reasons. Fuck, he’s cried more in the last hour than he has since his mom died. He glances over. “...but, thank you.”

She waves him off. “I’m a mom; when I see a kid crying, I’m morally obligated to provide comfort.” She winks. “Don’t think it means I like you or anything.”

“Of course not,” he says with a grin, already feeling lighter. After several moments of silence, he glances back at Patty again. “...so, now that you know my darkest secrets, can I ask you a question?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You just did.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that. I’ve wondered this for years.” He motions towards the doors to the dining room. “This place is called ‘Maz’s Cantina’, and you own it.”

“And?” She raises an eyebrow.

His grin is now devilish. “Is your name Patty? Or is it actually Maz?”

She doesn’t answer, just looks at him serenely.

“I knew it!” He can’t wait to tell you. If you’ll talk to him. Fuck. No, he’s not going there right now. “Okay, then, second question: how the everloving hell did you get ‘Patty’ out of ‘Maz’?”

“Who says ‘Patty’ is the nickname?” she answers, just as cheeky.

Poe tilts his head, considering. “Touché.” He pauses again. “....so, like, is it a middle name, or-”

“Get out of here, you donut.” Patty’s grin is fond.

“-maybe great grandma’s name?” He dodges as she elbows him. “Oh, no, wait, it’s the name of an ancestor who was a pirate queen, right? And she hey!” Poe ducks as she moves to smack him upside the head. “Fine! I’m going, I’m going.” He goes to stand but hesitates, uncharacteristically self conscious as he glances to his waitress-cum-confidante-cum-therapist. “...you think she’ll listen to me?”

“Kid-” Miss Patty, or Maz, or whatever she decides to be named- at this point Poe would call her the Supreme Leader of the universe if she wanted- pushes herself off the bench, pressing her hands on her lower back to stretch. “-if you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people. Fear, regret, joy; forget wearing your heart on your sleeve-” She taps the wire-rimmed frame of her glasses. “-it’s the eyes that show the truth of a person’s soul. And eventually, you learn to recognize the character of a person on sight.”

She regards Poe steadily through the spectacles perched on the end of her nose. “I could tell from the first time the two of you sat down at my counter: you’re both people who look at the world through eyes of love. The pair of you have hearts bigger than you know what to do with. But the way you two look at each other?” She whistles, low. “There’ve only been a handful of people I’ve ever seen with their hearts in their eyes like you. Love like that is once in a lifetime, and that’s if you’re lucky enough to find it.” Winking at him, she jerks her head at the side exit. “Go get your girl. And tell your dad I better see him in here soon for some cheesecake.”

“Yes, Miss Patty.” Poe catches her hand before she turns to go. “Seriously. Thank you.”

She pats his cheek. “Thank me by not fucking this up. That girl deserves all the happiness in the world.” She squeezes his hand. “Just like you do.” Heading back towards the dining room, she leaves him sitting on the bench, calling over her shoulder, “I better be invited to the wedding!”

As emotionally fried as he is, Poe still can’t help but grin.

His thoughts are still in a jumble, but his heart is finally starting to release from the stranglehold it's been in since you’d left.

Maybe, maybe, he can fix this mess.

He’s got to try.

“I need help.”

Finn doesn’t even look up from the laptop. “Clearly.”

“Seriously, you dick-” Poe pulls the office door shut and drops into the visitor’s chair, “-I fucked up and I need advice.”

Maybe it’s the tone in his voice, or maybe it’s that in the time he’s known Finn, he’s never, ever asked for help before. But something makes Finn look at him, really, truly look, and whatever he sees is enough to have him closing the laptop and giving Poe his full attention.

“I-” Fuck, admitting this to his brother-by-choice is going to be harder than he realized. “I told her.”

Finn laughs. “I’m sorry, I must have zoned out. It sounded like you said ‘I told her’.”

Poe doesn’t respond.

It takes about fifteen seconds for it to sink in. “Wait, you told her?!”

Poe scooches further down in his chair. “Yes?”

The look on Finn’s face is the perfect combination of disbelief, incredulity, and exasperation. “You told her. What the hell. Man, she’s engaged.”

“Shockingly,” Poe replies without malice, “I am aware of that fact.”

“You sure?” Finn crosses his arms over his chest. “Because it sounds like you waited to tell your best friend that you’ve been in love with her your whole life until after she found happiness with someone else.”

“I know.” Boy, does he know.

“Which probably made her feel like absolute shit.”

“I know.”

“Because you waited to tell her until-”

“I know, okay?!” Poe finally explodes. “I fucking know. And, for the record? I was prepared to go to my grave without telling her, because nothing in this universe matters to me more than her happiness.”

“You have a pretty fucking strange way of showing it, then.” Finn scrubs a hand down his face. “How the hell did it even come up?”

“She asked me, point blank, at dinner last night.”

“Wait, she brought it up?” Thoroughly confused, Finn blinks stupidly. “I don’t- why?”

“She said-” Poe has to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. “She said she doesn’t think it’s fair for us to stay like we are, to be so- that we need space if we’re not…” Goodbye, Poe. .

Finn is quiet for several long moments before he speaks, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “...she’s not wrong, you know.”

Poe sighs. “I know.”

Clearing his throat, Finn hesitates before standing to join Poe in the visitors chairs. “Do you want to tell me all of it?”

“Honestly? No.” Poe shrugs. “But it’s not like you don’t know most of it already.”

Finn exhales deeply. “Yeah, I do.”

“I-” Now that he has the opportunity, Poe doesn’t know where to start. “I know I told you when we were over there that I was going to tell her when I got back. And I was. Until- when Vanik-” He breaks off and makes himself take several deep breaths, refusing to hyperventilate for the second time in twenty-four hours. When he feels steady, he continues, “You know how fucked up I was when we came back.” Finn might be the only person in the world who knows.

His friend solemnly nods.

“I didn’t want to taint her with my bullshit.” He shakes his head as Finn goes to interject. “No, I know. I get it now. A very wise person knocked some sense into me last night.” He fiddles with his badge reel as he wryly smiles. “But that’s what held me back then. Before-” Running a finger through his inky curls, he huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Before that, I was just a coward.”

“I mean,” Finn concurs, “yeah.”

“Yeah.” Poe smiles sheepishly. “Sorry for being an idiot.”

“Hey, man. We all fuck up.” His brother-in-arms and closest friend- besides you, of course- shrugs and chuckles. “At least you two got it out in the open now. And it’s not like you guys hooked up or anything.”

Poe feels his ears start to turn pink.

Finn’s face is instantly wary. “Oh, God in heaven, please tell me you didn’t.”

“No!” Poe vehemently shakes his head. “Of course not.”

Sighing with relief, Finn clasps a hand over his heart. “Oh thank God. I knew you weren’t that much of a-”

“-we kissed.”

“You-” Finn’s face would be comical if the situation wasn’t so serious. “What.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Poe doesn’t say anything.

“Dude. Dude.” Finn looks like he might pass out. “What the fuck were you thinking? You’ve done some stupid shit in your life-”

“Love you too, man.”

“-but this takes the fucking cake.” Finn tips the chair back and covers his face with his hands. “You kissed her.”

Poe settles in for the (deserved) dressing down he knows is coming. “Yep.”

“I can’t believe you.” Finn shakes his head at the ceiling. “Actually, no, I am entirely unsurprised that you kissed her. Kissing her is the most you-thing I can possibly think of you doing. Because only an idiot would have kissed her in that situation.”

“Uh, hi,” Poe interjects, raising a hand. “I’m sitting right here?”

“Yeah?” Finn finally looks at him, clearly unimpressed. “And?”

“Helpful.”

“No-” Snapping the chair forward again and jabbing a finger at Poe, Finn is practically apoplectic. “Helpful would have been you asking her what she wanted to do-”

“-I did-”

“-and not fucking kissing- what the hell, man?!” Finn shakes his head so hard his dreads dance.

“I said, I did ask her what she wants.” Poe’s irritation is starting to rise. “I asked what she wanted, and she said she didn’t know.” The look on your face when you said that will be burned into his memory forever.

Finn’s eyebrows shoot up as he gapes at Poe. “She said she didn’t know? She didn’t tell you to go fuck yourself?”

“Not in so many words.” The same desperation he felt yesterday starts to rise in his throat. “She said she’s loved me the whole time, too.”

“Well, duh.” Finn snorts as Poe’s jaw drops. “C’mon, buddy, neither one of you was very good at hiding it. The two of you were probably the only two people alive who didn’t see it.”

“I-” Poe fiddles with his badge reel again. “...I asked if she was still going to marry him.”

“And she… fuck.” The look on Poe’s face is enough for Finn to guess the answer. “I’m sorry, Poe. That one I didn’t see coming.”

“No, it’s okay,” Poe says, and he’s both stunned and mollified to realize he’s telling Finn the truth. “It’s- it’s her choice.”

Finn’s already crossing his arms before Poe finishes speaking. “No. Nope. She’s out of her mind, yes, she is, Poe! I get it, she’s hurt, you’re both hurt, she feels like she can’t go back on her word, whatever-”

“Yeah, cause it’s not possible she actually loves Jarek.” Poe’s sarcasm is thick.

“I’m not saying she doesn’t love him. I’m saying she loves you in a way so profoundly different it probably terrifies her.” Finn leans forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. “Look- I’m sure she cares for Yeager. I hate to say it, but he’s a solid guy. And he clearly adores her. But that doesn’t mean she wants him more than she wants you.”

Poe blinks. “This sounds like the plot of a Hallmark Christmas movie.”

“You shut your dirty whore mouth about Hallmark Christmas movies, they’re art and I won’t be debating this topic.” Finn’s love for cheesy holiday romcoms is well established. “Now, focus.” He’s dropped into the tactician mode that earned him copious accolades during his military service.

Poe knows better than to interrupt again, and with a deep exhale, gestures for the good doctor to continue.

And continue, Finn does. “I would bet you anything that she doesn’t necessarily want to stay with Yeager. I would bet-” He counts each point on his fingers, “-she’s beyond hurt that you lied to her for so many years. Two, she’s ashamed that she’s also lied to you for so many years.”

Poe bristles and has to suppress the instinctive need to defend you.

“I’m not saying you both didn’t have your reasons, so stop looking at me like that, but it doesn’t change the facts. Three, if she calls off things with Yeager, she’s basically admitting she knew there wasn’t a future with him so long as you’re in her life, so now she feels like she’s lied to both of arguably the two most important men in her life. And four-” Finn levels a significant look at Poe. “She might not feel brave enough to take the risk of giving up a pretty-much guaranteed happy future with Yeager if she’s not absolutely certain that you’re in, no doubts and no reservations.”

Feeling his chest start to tighten, Poe digs his fingers into his thighs and breathes deeply, trying to force the feeling down. “There is nothing in my life I regret more than not being honest with her as soon as I realized how I felt, how I feel about her. I was scared, man, I didn’t- fuck, I didn’t- I couldn’t lose my best freind, Finn. I couldn’t lose her.”

He’s pleading and he doesn’t care.

“Being with her the way I dreamed wasn’t worth the risk. I didn’t, I still don’t care how she’s in my life. Okay? If she’s my friend, if she’s more, I don’t give a fuck, as long as she’s there, I just, it doesn’t fucking matter. I want whatever makes her happy. And if she-” His voice breaks and he has to take a moment to collect himself. “If it makes her happier- if she doesn’t want me there at all anymore, that’s- she gets to make that decision.” It’s hard to swallow around the words, but he knows he’s speaking the truth. “I’ve made enough decisions for her.”

Finn listens, ponders for a few moments, and then takes a deep breath.

“You are, without a doubt, the biggest fucking moron I’ve ever met.”

Okay, now he’s getting pissed. “Fuck you, man, I-”

“Will. You. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. And. Listen?!”

The edge in Finn’s voice makes Poe do just that.

“You say you don’t want to make decisions for her,” Finn continues, “but that’s exactly what you’re doing if you don’t give her all the information before asking her to choose.” His face is serious. “All the information, Poe.”

Shit.

Even if Finn’s right, it’s a conversation Poe hoped to never have with you.

“You both need to talk, and not while wound up and in the middle of a restaurant. Let each of you get your side of things out, and then, and only then, either let her make the choice, or come to a decision together.” Finn regards him impassively. “If her friendship means as much to you as you say it does, don’t you owe each other that much?”

The same fear Poe felt that day at the creek fills his heart. “I’m scared,” he finally admits, knowing there’s no hiding his vulnerability from Finn.

Finn nods. “That’s how you know it’s the right thing to do.”

You words won’t leave his mind. Isn’t it time to be honest with each other?

He chews on his lip. It’s not like he could fuck up the situation any more that he already has.

Isn’t it time?

Several minutes pass before Poe looks up at Finn, who is waiting patiently, like always. “Thanks.”

Finn shrugs. “You’d do it for me.”

“Yeah,” Poe agrees, “I would.” He reaches towards Finn. “Hands.”

With an eyeroll but accompanied by a grin, Finn clasps Poe’s offered hand. “Hands.”

“I mean it, Finn.” Poe nods, sincerity etched on his face. “Every single one of them has the exact same plot.”

“Okay, one, fuck you, and two, no they do not!”

“Someone always comes back to their poedunk little town-”

“It’s called sentimentality!”

“-and there’s some tension with an old flame-”

“Romance, you dick, it’s called romance!”

“...uh, fellas?”

The two men glance towards the office door, where Rose is watching the show.

She jerks a thumb over her shoulder. “There’s a whole clinic of ankle-biters out there, in case you forgot?”

Poe stands and hefts Finn out of his chair as Rose heads back to the reception desk. “Better get cracking, Doc.”

“Just make sure you remember the Bluey bandaids today, okay?” Finn loops his stethoscope over his neck. “I cannot hear one more kid complaining that you gave them a Paw Patrol one instead.”

“Duh. Everyone knows Bluey bandaids make shots hurt less. God, what useless crap did they teach you in med school?”

Poe’s grinning, but Finn must read something on his face, because he pauses halfway to the door before turning back and clasping Poe on the shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay, alright?” Finn assures him. “She loves you. She’s going to listen.”

God, Poe hopes he’s right.

Series Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 4

A/N: Poe's panic attack is an almost exact description of how my own manifest. They're terrifying, especially when you're alone, and for me, include hyperventilation and feeling like I'm going to die. If you also suffer from panic attacks, I am sending you the biggest hugs I have. They are awful and I wouldn't wish them on anyone.

If you or someone you know suffers from PTSD, please seek help.

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dragon-fics · 4 years ago

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(The Dragon Prince) A Different Life (Mentor!Aaravos X Apprentice/Reader)

Online classes had me very bored, so I started to think back to my original prologue of HA and here is the basic Idea I had, in first person.

This is partially based on @kurizeria‘s OC Naymora and her story with Aaravos.

Chapter summary: You are Aaravos’ elven apprentice in a time before Dark Magic, the Mage Wars, the division of Xadia and, Aaravos’ imprisonment.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Centuries before Aaravos’ imprisonment

“Master? Where are we going?” I whined, chasing after him.

Aaravos sighed. He’d started to do that a lot recently. Was I becoming annoying because I was a teenager?

He spun around, his dark cloak whipping behind him. “(Y/N), we’re going to Elarion. Like I said this morning?” he said, as if he were trying to jog my memory.

I placed my hand on the strap of my satchel. “You didn’t mention anything this morning,” I muttered, “you just said it was time to leave.” He had become very forgetful recently and almost presumed I had telepathic powers like dragons do—and I am not a dragon.

Aaravos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right... I’m sorry. I’ve just been very busy with Ziard’s project.”

We started walking again. “The ‘project’ he so desperately needs the Archmage to help him with? Why can’t he just do it himself, if he wants the ‘project’ finished so badly?” I was becoming irritated with this human ‘mage’. He visited almost every day and made demands about the project, asking Aaravos to have it done quickly, when he had done all but nothing to aid its completion—whatever it was. And every time he’d visit, he’d eye me disgustedly and insist I leave, even if it was in the middle of a lesson.

He drew in a sharp breath. “(Y/N), you need to calm down. Once the project is finished, Ziard will be out of our lives, I promise.”

Crossing my arms, I said, “I don’t like this, Aaravos. I can see such darkness in him. Whatever this project is, I hope it doesn’t bring more harm than good.”

“That makes two of us.”

I glanced at him. Was that regret in his voice?

“So, what is this project?” It was a question I had been wanting to ask for months.

Aaravos hesitated. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

He glanced at the long object on his back, wrapped in burlap and string. “It’s best you don’t know.”

I looked at the path ahead of us, Elarion was just beyond this hill, I had travelled enough times to the city with Aaravos to know where it was from here.

Aaravos looked up at the hill and reached inside his cloak, pulling out a small bag of coins. “Go to Elarion and find somewhere to eat, I’ll catch up with you later.”

I followed his gaze. “You’re meeting him here?”

“Just take the money, (Y/N). I’ll see you in Elarion.” He placed the coins in my hand and started up the hill.

I frowned and did I was told, tucking away the bag under my cloak.

*-*-*-*

Aaravos’ stead galloped ahead of mine as the moon lit our path dark overgrown forest path.

“Master, what’s happening?” I called out. He had woken me up in the middle of the night in a panic, saying someone was coming and that they knew everything. He muttered about his regret in making something and making something for ‘him’.

He said nothing, just kept moving.

“Aaravos!” I called.

“The Mage Council is hunting me,” he shouted above the steads’ hooves and the sounding his cloak.

“Why?”

He didn’t respond. What had he done?

I reined my mount to a stop. He released a snort of displeasure.

It took Aaravos several moments to notice I was missing. “Why did you stop?!” he demanded, turning his stead around and rejoining me.

“What have you done?!” I retorted. “What have you done that has not only placed you in danger, but me, your apprentice, your child?!”

Aaravos hung his head in shame, something I have never seen him do before. “I’m sorry.”

“What. Did you. Do?” I said, irritated.

“Ziard is dead. Before Sol Regem killed him, he told Sol Regem that I had given him the staff. The staff was his project.” He looked up at me.

“You started all this? The Dark Magic, the humans being banished, the Mage Wars! You...” I paused, unsure what else to say. “You created that... weapon.”

“(Y/N), please... It was supposed to be a gift, and act of equity from us to humanity.”

I held my face in my hands. He had talked of this ‘act’ since I was an elfling and I knew very well he had never meant to hurt anyone or bring such destruction and hate.

I lowered my hands and drew in a breath. “So, what are we going to do now?”

“Hide.”

“They’ll find us, no matter wh—.“

“You. You need to hide,” he said solemnly.

“What about you?” I moved my stead closer to his.

He raised his hood and looked back at the trail, to the sound of heavy paws and shouting coming closer.

“No! I’m not leaving you to them! They won’t hesitate to—,“ I cut myself off, unable to finish my sentence.

Aaravos placed a hand on my cheek and kissed my brow. “I rather you be safe.”

“They won’t stop at you, they’ll think I’ll know something as well.”

He paused and turned his mount around. “You’re right. So,” he turned to face me, “are you with me?”

“Yes, Master,” I breathed.

We started off again, but our steads weren’t as fast as the hunters’. With every second they got closer and our path was getting harder to traverse.

“Can’t we teleport?” I asked over the hoofbeats of our steads.

“No, they’re too close and we’re moving to fast and the search parties are everywhere right now.”

I looked on at the path ahead. There had to be some way to get rid of them.

But then they yanked me from my saddle and pulled to the ground. I yelped and grunted as I hit the ground. I looked at my arm, a metal whip was wrapped around it.

“(Y/N)!” yelled Aaravos.

“Keep going!” I shouted.

He hesitated for a second before his stead ran off.

I was about to draw a rune to cut the wire when they pulled me up onto another stead. I elbowed the rider, but they drew a sleep rune and I fell limply into their hold.

*-*-*-*

It had been centuries since I had last seen Aaravos.

And now he had been captured.

I followed my new master, and Aaravos’ former master, Kalani. An elf so tall and old I was sure he was older than the eldest tree in all of Xadia. He had the most beautiful pale skin and horns that shown like gold that were as large and as detailed as a moose’s, just more curved and elegant looking. A mass of blue robes that faded from pale blue to the darkest night sky, hung on his body with such a long trail that I often tripped on in—and often his hair as well.

We were beside the Moon Nexus, on a full moon, surrounded by dozens of Moonshadow mages.

“Are we ready?” Kalani asked the master Moonshadow mage.

“Yes, Archmage.”

The name he gave him made my hands curl into a fist. How dare he call that arrogant elf that?!

But I stayed as stoic as I could until Kalani turned around. I mimicked his action.

“Bring him here!” he ordered. They pushed a mirror towards us, it was bronze and gold with runes around the glass. Some hunters came forward, their weapons nudging forward... Aaravos.

I looked down, forcing myself away from his bruised and cut face, torn gown and damaged jewellery. He was leaning forward, his hands bound behind him.

“Kalani!” he growled as they pushed him forward. “Why am I here?” His eyes drifted over to me, and I forced myself to look at him. I wanted to rush over to him and heal him, but I couldn’t.

His ears dropped. “(Y/N)!” he forced himself upright and turned to Kalani. “Why is he/she/are they here? He/She/They shouldn’t be punished for my mistakes.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, and he/she/they have been an excellent student,” he twirled a lock of my hair. “So, he/she/they won’t be joining you in your prison, Stella Carcerem,” he looked to the mirror.

Some mages pushed Aaravos towards it and began chanting, as did Kalani. The runes on the mirror glowed, and the glass looked like it was made of liquid. I forced myself to watch as a yellow hue left Aaravos’ body and was pulled into the mirror. His spirit.

He fought it, standing in a meditative state to keep his spirit inside him. But to no avail. Before the last of his spirit disappeared, he opened his eyes and gave me a small smile. And he was gone.

The runes on the mirror faded, and the glass became solid again. “It is done,” Kalani said.

I stepped forward, looking at the mirror; it was blank. Kneeling by it, I placed my hand on the glass. “I’m sorry, Father.” tears spilled from my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The mages slowly dispersed and left me with the mirror.

“We’ll meet again, Master,” I whispered. I softly chanted a reincarnation spell, one that would allow to meet up with him again and free him. My skin became luminescent.

“I’m sorry future me, but you need to do this. For Aaravos,” I looked at my reflection, though I thought I could see Aaravos looking at me before my body flashed.

And then—

Darkness

#the dragon prince #his apprentice #maybe a prologue before the prologue?#aaravos x reader #aaravos #mirror prison #tdp #tdp aaravos #startouch OC #the dragon prince fanfiction #fanfic #short story #one-shot

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years ago

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You Gave Her Your Sweater

Heather Series Part 11

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Bonus!:Readers Card Confession Bonus!:To Hold On, To Let Go, Spencers take Bonus!:Series Playlist

Summery: Reader runs into Heather while wearing Spencer’s sweater, solidifying the difference in their relationships.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, mentions of cheating

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

A/N: Okay guys, the next chapter is the last one! And I promise its gonna be so fucking long, and so fucking cute it’ll give you cavities. I’m gonna give you the good shit. The next couple weeks I might be a little slower at posting because I submitted an application for an apartment me and my sister want, and I’m fairly certain were gonna get it, so I’ll be busy packing and stuff. Thank you for your continued support!

~~~~~

I never liked grocery shopping.

I know it’s essential, but the task itself is so draining, so boring.

Even still, I can’t help but wander around, buying shit that looks good that I absolutely do not need.

I know you’re not supposed to go when you’re hungry, but I can’t help it.

I guess that’s an upside of being married to the man I am.

While one of his hands is situated in the back pocket of my jeans, the other holds a piece of paper that holds our grocery list, and he is a stickler for keeping to it.

He’s subtly leading me down the aisles as I push the cart, which is already half full of what we need.

Grocery shopping with Spencer is different.

It doesn’t feel like a chore when he’s with me.

It also cuts the time by at least half, because he doesn’t let me stray from the list.

But I’ve had a special circumstance these past few months.

“You know what sounds so good right now?” I ask him, as he begins to lead me down the cereal aisle.

“What’s that baby?”

He removes his hand from my pocket, reaching up to grab a box off the top shelf.

“Shrimp. With cocktail sauce.”

My mouth starts to water just thinking about it.

He laughs, walking back to me, placing it in our cart.

“You hate shrimp.”

I roll my eyes. “I also hate pickles, but last week I couldn’t stop eating them. And besides,” I run my hands over my growing belly. “It’s not my fault.”

He smiles, shaking his head, coming forward to rest his hands on top of mine, leaning down and kissing the tip of my nose.

“I’ll go get you some. While you,” he slips the list into the front pocket of the sweatshirt I’m wearing. “Continue shopping.”

“Thank you, Spence.”

“Anything for my girls.”

His hands come to lift the hood over my head, pulling the string, shrinking it around my face.

“I’m never gonna get my sweatshirt back am I?”

I shake my head. “I’m gonna be buried in this thing.”

He rolls his eyes before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

“It looks better on you anyways. I’ll be right back.”

He turns and walks back down the aisle, only to turn back and say “Don’t stray from the list!”

I raise my hands defensively. “I won’t!”

I watch as he disappears around the corner before reaching into the cart and pulling out the box of cheerios, doing my best to place it back on the shelf.

“How can he like cheerios? Fuckin’ weirdo, Reese's Puffs are where it’s at.”

I grab the orange box, only pausing when I feel a kick against my side.

“I’m gonna assume you agree with me. Cheerios are nasty. Don’t worry, we’ll make daddy see.”

Another movement, and my hand finds the place against my side, pressing lightly. “Okay, baby girl, mama still has to shop.”

“You’re wearing his sweater.”

I pause my movements, my hand still resting on my stomach.

It can’t be.

I mean it can, you do live in the same area that she does.

I turn, to see Heather standing in the middle of the aisle, her gaze falling down to my stomach, and then back up to the lettering across my chest that says ‘CalTech’.

I shove my hands into the front pocket, not really sure what to say.

“I was cold, and I forgot mine at my place when he gave it to me.” I take my left hand out to brush some hair out of my face, letting her see the diamond ring that rests on my finger.

“He never offered one to me. Even when I forgot mine.” Her hands are in her front pockets of her jeans, and she doesn’t meet my eye.

I shrug.

Is that supposed to make me feel bad for you?

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that, Heather.”

It’s quiet for a moment, as much as it can be in the middle of a grocery store.

She’s the one to break the silence. “How far along are you?”

None of your fucking business bitch.

“6 months.” I cradle my stomach with my hands, smiling down at it. “We’re having a girl.”

She shuffles from side to side, running her hands over her jeans, her arms, through her hair.

I can’t help being proud of the fact that even six months pregnant, I still make her nervous.

“You know, we talked about having kids. Or well, I talked.” It’s then that she finally meets my eye. “He told me he didn’t want any.”

I let a smirk slide over my face. “Spencer loves kids. Even before we got together he always said he wanted kids.” I look her up and down. “Guess he just didn’t want any with you.”

It’s been three years. It’s been a long time, and I know Spencer’s over her. I know I should throw her a bone, ease up on the sarcasm and poison laced words.

But she hurt him. She broke him. It took months for him to fully admit that he did love her in some way, shape or form, and that the betrayal of that love hurt.

I would never forgive her for that, no matter what she did. No matter if he does.

The look of hurt passes over her face, but then a crying child is heard behind her and she turns.

I look over her shoulder, and the man I saw that night at the bar is walking towards her with a spitting image of her in the seat.

The child is crying over something I couldn’t really decipher, and I see her shoulders tense as his eyes meet mine.

I take in the ring on his finger, the one on hers, and finally look at how old her daughter is.

She knows, and turns back to me, panic slapped across her face.

“How old is she?”

She swallows, and her husband is trying to get her to stop crying. “She’s two and half.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that implies.

It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it?

“You gotta be kidding me. Are you fucking serious right now?” I cross my arms over my chest, cocking an eyebrow.

She starts to pick at her cuticles. “I didn’t find out until after the divorce was finalized. My doctor said I got pregnant at the end of April.”

She was pregnant with another man's baby for almost 2 and half months, while being married to him.

Buckle up baby, I’m about to rock this bitches shit for a second time.

“You were going to pass it off as his, weren’t you? You were going to fuck him, and than two weeks later tell him that you were pregnant.”

I take a step forward, anger boiling in my chest. “You know he’s a fucking genius right? He’d do the math in .2 seconds and figure it out? What is with you and thinking you can get away with this shit?”

He must have sensed a disturbance in the force, because not two seconds later he comes around the corner, holding my snack in his hands, only to pause when he takes in the scene.

His eyes flicker to me, then to Heather, the baby, and finally the man, who is puffing his chest to try and appear like the alpha male he thinks he is.

His hands tighten around the container of shrimp, before walking past all three of them, coming to stand behind me, tossing the container into the cart, one hand back in my back pocket, the other in his front.

He stares down Heather, his eyes going back to the child every couple of seconds.

I know he’s doing the math in his head, and he figured it out probably faster than I did.

“Unbelievable.”

She pinches the bridge of her crooked nose, looking up to say something but I cut her off.

“Don’t. You have nothing to prove to us. You made your choice, now you have to live with it.” I look at the man behind her.

“Not even half the man.”

Spencer turns towards me, his chest moving to contain laughter at the look on her face.

Not giving her a chance to get the last word, I turn, and push the cart down the rest of the aisle, turning it as I hear her start to yell at him and her daughter.

He pulls me into an empty one a few rows down, turning me to face him as he leans down and kisses me.

I wish I could kiss him forever.

“I love you so much, you don’t even know.”

I grab his hands and place them on my stomach, where our daughter was making herself comfortable. “I think I have an idea.”

He laughs, his eyes not leaving my stomach as he feels her movements.

After a few moments, he removes his hands, grabbing one of my own as he turns me back around to keep shopping.

“Really?” He points to the box of Reese's Puffs.

“What? The list said cereal, Reese's puffs are cereal!”

He shakes his head, kissing the top of my head.

“Whatever you say, dear.”

Permanent Tag List: @criminalcow @pinkdiamond1016 @eternityofaxiom @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @marvels-gurl @theamuz @write-from-the-heart @sungieeeeeee @mjloveskids666 @chococerealmilk @itzsoff @gia-kerks @doctorspencereid @imsuperawkward @andreasworlsboring101 @itsmoony @cielo1984 @heistmaster69 @nevvvv @theseuscmander @complementaryvacuum @waywardswain @lindaze @urie-bowie-mercury @spencerreidsimptime

Heather Tag List: @drsoftboyreid @racerparker @avaholcombe @rodgertayloroof @stephanieisgay330 @swiftspaperings @rainsong01 @darthseph @liaabsurd @tracyn910 @holypicklelightnickel @pianofirepirate @radtwinkie @madcrazy50 @bweakmybonez @constantlywishingonstars @l0ve-0f-my-life @expressiodepressio @flannelpjpants @x-midnight-violets-x @kwyloz @todaynotseen @caitlin-f @mylovehes @yoongi-holland @vamp-army @realimbo @stardream14 @magicbeanssss @jessaminelovelace @darthvadersturd @nikkilikewhoa @mellifluouswildbluebells @lex-rodgers-sheild @crist1216 @voguekristen @doctorspencrreid @girlwithcrocs @harryscherrymoon @cherriesnwatermelons @heyitssomegirl101 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @colorfulsunflowerx @falcon-arrows @hereforbeebo @legallyplatinumblonde @thatsonezesty13

#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x Female!Reader #criminal minds series #criminal minds #cm #mathew gray gubler #song fic #heather #conan gray

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years ago

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Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 4 (Waves)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, suggestive content, mentions of marking, angst (kinda maybe sort of?). Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Author’s Note: So I’m trying to not make every story super depressing. At least for now. So I took a shot at some average fluff for Jihoon’s chapter. Let me know what you think! It’s a bit short, but I’ll edit it some more to juice it up when I have the free time.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

☁️

Lonely Together Masterlist

Chapter 4: Waves

You were still getting used to everything, which no one could blame you for. You weren’t used to being around humans let alone lovey happy couples all the time. It was all… disorienting to you. You understood why the rest of the pack acted the way they did with their mates, in a way you also felt some primal need to be the same with Jihoon. But it was just… quite a big adjustment for you.

It wasn’t bad by any means! You knew you’d get the hang of most of it eventually. But there were some things you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to. Like the constant PDA of the couples around you. You didn’t understand the need to be that close to someone all the time or need to be that handsy. You always wondered if maybe Jihoon wanted to be like that, but you never really had the courage to ask in case you wouldn’t like his answer.

You also knew you’d never really like the fact that the pack seemed to refer to you more as a mate than as a wolf. You grew up being a wolf above all else, you considered yourself a wolf first. Now, you were Jihoon’s mate. Just one of the girls. You ate with them, you hung out with them, and you were treated like them even though you were just as strong if not more so than most of the males. Soonyoung didn’t get treated that way even though he was technically Seungcheol’s mate. It seemed unfair. That thought seemed to leave a bitter metallic taste in your mouth, but you just dealt with it because that’s just how it was now.

And you knew you’d NEVER understand the need to give your partner sweet little gooey nicknames. I mean, who the hell decided it was an adorable idea to start calling the person they fuck baby? How the hell was that SUPPOSED to be cute? It was creepy to you. You could tell it visibly bothered Jihoon that you hadn’t called him anything other than his given name, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to call him by anything else. Every cutesy petname you could think of just felt… wrong to you. Sweetheart? Shit didn’t make sense. Hearts were NOT sweet. Sugar? He wasn’t composed of glucose or fructose so that wasn’t right. Prince? He wasn’t royalty, well, at least not that neither of you knew of. Daddy? Even creepier than baby. So you just opted to leave it at Jihoon.

As for you and Jihoon, you’d been doing alright. You were still rather shy around each other, but you were definitely more obvious in your affection with each other. For instance, at breakfast you always seemed to find yourself scooting your chair as close to his as you could manage. And he always made sure you were within his sight. You weren’t sure why. Where could you have possibly gone when you were stuck with a bunch of wolves? But it did make the chambers of your heart constrict extra whenever you noticed him trying to look for you. You had to admit, It was kinda cute.

There was still one problem. You two hadn’t… consummated your bond yet. You were still unmarked even though it had now been weeks of being in the same house together. He hadn’t even tried to sleep with you. It had you confused, shouldn’t he have wanted to have sex with you by now?

“Dude quit being a little bitch and just do it already!” Soonyoung groaned at his younger brother while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

You were currently outside learning how to play soccer with Somi, just far enough away to where you couldn’t hear what was going on inside. They were all watching you guys from the window. You felt someone staring at you so you looked up from the ball next to your feet towards the house. Your mate was eyeing you and had a fond smile flashing brightly at your from his spot. You gave him a sweet one back with a little wave added before you continued on with your fancy foot maneuvering past the younger girl and scored a goal, causing you to jet your hands in the air in celebration. God he loved you.

Jihoon looked away to sigh and he ran his shakey hand through his slick hair, “But how am I supposed to do that? You fuckers are here every second of everyday and she can hear everything that goes on the same as I can. You’re all way too distracting. If she’s anything like me-” He was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Which she is.” Mingyu stated with a giant grin on his face while crossing his arms over his chest.

“IF she’s anything like me, she doesn’t want you guys listening in or around when we’re going at it. She’s too private for that” Jihoon emphasized, trying his best to contain his annoyance at the taller boy for his smugness, “Plus, you’re all too lovey with each other, it makes us both awkward and uncomfortable.” He admitted.

Joshua laughed and slapped his hands on his knees where he was sitting down at the table, “So you’re telling me that WE make YOU GUYS uncomfortable? Have you ever even been in the same room with yourself? You’re both ridiculously intimidating to the girls because you’re so quiet. WE know it’s because you’re just shy. But THEY all think you’re some sort of psycho killer dude!”

“Yeah if looks could kill, we’d all have been long dead by now!” Snorted Wonwoo, who had his arm wrapped around his mate possessively.

Jihoon raised his chest out defiantly, slightly annoyed at his pack mates for making fun of his cold exterior, “Yeah? Well at least I can keep my hands off my mate for more than a split second!”

He never really understood the need to keep partners away from other people. That is, until the other day when Chan had accidentally brushed up against your front while trying to reach for a plate. He all but chewed him up and spit him out for it, though you didn’t know that as he did it once you had gone up to bed. He couldn’t help it. His inner wolf just snapped at the poor kid. Though looking back, he’d still do it again. No one should be touching you but him.

“Not for long. You’re getting soft. You’re laughing more at the things she says, you’re joining us on errands more because she goes with, you’re getting more and more protective over her because she’s not marked and you don’t want anyone taking her away from you” Mingyu proudly spoke up much to Jihoon’s shock. He happy that he had taken the smaller wolf off guard with his statement, “You’re getting just as whipped man. You want my advice?” He asked, seeming pretty genuine with his question.

Jihoon nodded at him. Mingyu was surprisingly one of the few who could actually keep a few feet’s distance from his mate. Out of everyone in the pack, he would’ve DEFINITELY expected him to be the one most likely to be attached to his lovers side. But he when he found his mate, he didn’t get possessive over her at all. He just let her do her own thing with relative freedom. He figured he must have had some sort of secret behind being able to control himself and, for your sake, Jihoon figured he should take any help he could get before he got bad.

“Mark her as soon as you can. It helps. You wont get as jealous, at least around us, because we’ll smell you on her.” He shrugged towards his elder, quickly going over and kissing the top of his mates head who was sitting on the ground braiding Josh’s mates hair.

The thought of marking you sent a weird feeling through Jihoon’s veins. He WANTED to. But the real question was, would you LET him? “I don’t know. It could help I guess. But again, you bitches are always here and if I EVER want to do anything with her, you assholes can’t be anywhere near or she’ll refuse.”

“Okay okay! What if we were to all go visit Taeyong’s pack later? Then would you get the stick out of your ass and just fucking get it over with?” Seungcheol interjected with a heavy chuckle.

He was just as glad that his younger brother found you as everyone else. He really needed you in his life, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So he knew he had to help him figure out how to finally make things ‘official’ with you.

Jihoon thought for a moment. There didn’t seem to be a reason why that couldn’t work. He’d just have to make sure you knew to stay behind which, considering how touchy feely the others were, you’d probably be more than happy with that, “That’s….. actually a good idea.”

“Yeah no shit Sherlock. That’s why he suggested it” sneered Jeonghan. Jihoon sent him a small warning growl before Hannie went and collected the other mates and boys to tell them the new plan for the day.

He couldn’t lie, he was super fucking nervous. Other than that day you found out you two were mates, he hadn’t been left alone with you. At least not completely. There was always someone how because of how many people that lived in the house. He didn’t have much experience with girls. He had more experience than you did, but he was still trying to grasp the whole ‘mating’ thing. He didn’t know where to even start. He couldn’t just go up to you and go “hey I need to mark you or I’m gonna go crazy so we need to fuck like rabbits.” I mean, what kind of loser did that? He had to start thinking of a more subtle approach.

And, as if on cue, in came you and Somi from outside after Jeonghan had called for you both from outside. Your cheeks were a bit flushed from being in the sun and your hair that was once put up in a neat ponytail was now falling out in locks towards the rest of your face. You had grass stains on your knees and you had a bit of dirt on your forehead. You looked like you had gotten into a fight with the ground when in all reality, it was just your first time playing a child’s game.

“So, we’re going somewhere?” Somi ran up and kissed Chan on the cheek before he cuddled her in his arms.

“Yeah. WE are. THEY’RE staying here.” He let a playful grin plaster on his face as he pointed at your and your mate.

You cocked your head to the side in confusion, “We are? Why’s that?”

Chan gulped down his dry throat and shifted his eyes towards Jihoon, who was now staring daggers into him, “Oh… um- well… because…”

“Because we’re gonna be doing coupley shit over at Taeyong’s today and Jihoon said you wouldn’t want to watch us make out.” His sentence was quickly interrupted by the oldest alpha, much to your mate’s relief as his answer seemed to satisfy you.

“Ew yeah no. I’ll stay here that sounds gross,” you shook your head and scrunched up your nose in disgust, “Though I think I’ll take a shower. I feel almost as gross as you all are together.” You chuckled as you mad your way up the stairs and to the bathroom.

A little while later after everyone had got themselves together and understood why they suddenly had to leave, they began to head towards the door to depart. You were now upstairs in your bedroom, a towel tightly wrapped around your body and hair as you read a book to work on your Korean. You were pretty good with the actual speaking portion of the language, minus your accent of course, but you were still having a bit of trouble with the spelling and reading. And since it was the native language of most of the people who lived in the house, you figured it was best you study up on it a bit more to become more fluent.

Before you knew it, the others had left. You began focusing on a page of plural ways of speech and were brought out of your gaze by a soft voice near the doorway of your bedroom, “How’s the studying coming along?”

“It’s going about as well as dealing with humans after centuries of avoiding them.” You figured, putting your book down on the bedside table and looking at your mate who was now moving to sit at the end of your bed.

“That bad huh?” He joked while bringing his hand to touch your naked thigh. It brought a light pink blush to your cheeks, but you did your best to avoid it as much as possible and continued the conversation.

You shrugged the heat one your face away, “It comes and goes in Waves. Besides, It could be worse”

“And how’s that?” Jihoon questioned, giving you a tilted head in response.

“I could have had to go watch all the other suck face all day with another pack.” You laughed in amusement at your own joke.

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before he responded, “Well… yeah… about that…” he trailed in an effort to avoid the situation.

“What about it?”

“Wellllll….” He took a deep breath in so he could finish his sentence, “They decided to leave for me- well for us- so we could… have some time alone together…” he brought his newly hot face down to look at his lap so he didn’t have to look you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Alone time?” You bit your lip to hold back a knowing grin. You knew exactly what he was trying to say. But you really wanted to HEAR him say the words. Half to confirm your suspicions, half so that he would squirm a bit.

“Uh yeah. Alone time…” he started to pick at his nails to distract himself. He had never really been this nervous before. Why was he even nervous? You were his mate. It’s not like you’d have an issue with it all… right?

Your pulse was starting to race. The thought of what could happen was heating your body up to the point of concern. You weren’t sure why you were reacting this way, maybe it was because he was your mate, maybe it was because now you could go into heat, you didn’t know. But you did know that if he was going where you thought he was going with his sentence, you’d definitely not be complaining.

You gave him a wondering look, “What do you mean by alone time?” You faked innocence in your question, playing with the edge of the towel wrapped around your body.

He groaned in frustration and threw himself to the bed, landing on his back with a light thud while his hands found their way to his face, “They all left so I could mark you okay?? I knew you wouldn’t want to do anything like that with them here. But I knew I needed to do it soon so that my jealousy wouldn’t get the best of me. So Cheol agreed to have everyone leave for the day so we could just-get it over with” He sighed out, hands still covering his eyes so he could ignore your no doubt astonished face.

But instead, you found yourself straddling him in your easily droppable attire. His hands automatically sent themselves down to hold your hips once his body realized what was happening.

“You know, you could’ve just said that to begin with you know” you seductively let out. His face was absolutely stunned at your sudden behavior change. What actual fucking alien world had he stepped in when he came into your shared room?

(Updated 9/16)

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt au #jihoon #seventeen jihoon #svt jihoon #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi angst #svt woozi #seventeen woozi

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mrs-gucci · 3 years ago

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The Angel, Chapter One: Intel {Flip Zimmerman x biker!Reader}

Chapter One: “Intel”

series summary. The Angels are the newest biker gang in town, looking to dethrone the current high-riders, The Sharks, a notoriously violent gang. Fresh off the Klan case, Detective Flip Zimmerman and his new partner, Detective Ron Stallworth, are tasked with finding out more information about this new gang. After a passionate affair behind the bar with a mysterious woman calling herself Siren, Flip discovers that perhaps he’s a bit closer to this investigation than he originally counted on. Can he manage to use this newly-recruited ally to not only take down The Sharks before they strike again, but perhaps use it to benefit his lonesome personal life as well? Find out all this and more in “The Angel”!

chapter summary. Flip and Ron head over to Ace’s, a local bar in Colorado Springs to gather intel on The Angels, the newest biker gang in town. The young detective gets more than he bargained for when he meets and beds a mystery woman named Siren. Except ‘Siren’ ends up being the last person Flip expected to get intimate with and now, he’s entangled in this case, both professionally and personally.

table of contents. Intel (NSFW) * Saint Siren Turned Sharks Intercepted Epilogue

(a * indicates where you are in the table of contents)

author’s notes: hello, hello! saw a few bikers as I was driving on the highway, and my mind decided that I wanted to write a multi-chap fic about flip with a biker gang reader love interest. I love exploring the whole ‘flip with an independent/dom fem reader’ trope. so, here I am, designating an entire ten chapters to it.

**this multi-chap will have 5 parts total (4 ‘story’ chapters and an epilogue). due to the shorter number of chapters/parts, expect each to be longer, usually between 4-6k words.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: smut. heavy flirting. swearing. a generous amount of dirty talk. degradation. oral sex. reader smokes. use of the term ‘pig’ to describe the police.

(possible) tw’s: tobacco use (as is canon for flip’s character). public sex.

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist. I’m also willing to do a series-specific taglist if enough people are interested!)

---

“Alright, everyone. Rumor has it that there’s a new biker gang in town, called ‘The Angels’.” Chief Bridges says. “We gotta be on top of this, make sure they’re not the violent type.”

Flip rubs his chin, stroking his beard as he listens to the limited intel the department has on this new group.

“I’m putting Zimmerman and Stallworth on this one. You’re gonna hang out at some of the local watering holes, see if you can gather some more information on this new group.”

His eyebrows raise and he looks over at his partner. “C’mon Chief, don’t you think our talents could be used elsewhere? It’s just an intel mission, a beat cop could do it.”

“This is incredibly important, Zimmerman, and I only trust my top talent to do the job right.” Bridges crosses his arms, staring daggers at the dark-haired detective. “It’ll be a quick job, I’m sure. No more than a week’s time. Now, get over yourself and do the damn job.”

He huffs softly, nodding as he looks away. “Sure thing, Chief.”

“You’ll head to Ace’s tonight, since that’s where they’re said to hang the most. Meeting dismissed.”

Everyone piles out of the small conference room and back out into the bullpen. Flip lights a cigarette as he sits down at his desk and continues typing up a report from last week’s home invasion-robbery.

Ron sets the ‘Angels’ file down on his desk a few minutes later, sighing as he sits on the edge.

“What are you thinkin’ about this case, Flip?”

“I just wanna get it over with, rookie.” He leans back in his chair, shrugging and taking a drag. “I think it’s nothing to worry about, since they haven’t done anything yet, but the Chief wants us to check it out so I guess we have to.”

Ron nods.

“Well, we’ll head over to Ace’s after work. Hopefully we’ll find something and then we can get back to finding the Sharks.”

The Sharks were the biggest gang in Colorado Springs, spreading violence and dominating the northern part of town. But, all of them wore masks or helmets with masks, so no one’s been able to identify any of them.

“Mmhmm.”

Flip hums, stubbing the cigarette butt out in the mug on his desktop.

Before he knows it, the clock hand lands on 6, and everyone starts packing up. Flip gets up and puts his freshly-typed reports on the Chief’s desk before heading over to Ron’s desk.

“You ready to go, rookie?” He asks, hopping up on his partner’s desk. “I need a fuckin’ beer.”

Ron laughs, shaking his head as he stands up and both men walk back to get the mics and listening equipment together. Flip clips the lauve to his white undershirt, then re-buttons his signature buffalo plaid flannel.

They head out and hop into Flip’s pickup truck. He pulls away from the station and heads down the freeway towards Ace’s while Ron sets up all the audio equipment in the front seat.

The parking lot of Ace’s is almost full when the two detective’s pull in, and when Flip puts the truck in park, he immediately catches sight of a series of bikes parked at the front.

“They’re here.” He says in a low voice, nodding over to the bikes. “I’m gonna go check the jackets to make sure.”

Flip casually gets out from the cab and walks over. He sees one of the jackets draped over the seats with the words ‘The Angels’ and a logo on the back.

“Yup,” He says to Ron through the window of his truck. “It’s them.”

Ron’s eyes widen slightly. “Well then, get in there, partner. See what you can find.”

He chuckles, sticking a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his lighter on as he walks into the bar. His eyes scan the room, looking for biker-like characters, but his attention is quickly drawn to a certain young woman sitting at the bar.

She’s not much younger than himself, if Flip had to guess, and her subtle smile was infectious. Flip was absolutely taken with her, but he maintained his cool, approaching the bar.

“Hey, Earl.” He says, leaning against the bar. “Get me a Miller, would you?”

“Sure thing.” The bartender nods, giving Flip a handshake before heading over to the beer fridge.

You can’t help but look over at the handsome man that’s leaning against the bar. His eyes move over to you, and yours dart away quickly. He smirks, and when you look back over, he gives you a quick wink.

Your cheeks warm as you and the handsome stranger make eyes at each other. You’ve only been in town for a little while, and you’ve certainly never seen someone like him around before.

Once the bartender hands him the dark brown bottle, mister tall, dark and handsome casually makes his way over to where you’re seated. His presence is intimidating in itself, patrons suddenly hushing their voices as he stands behind you.

“Like what you see?” He asks in a low voice, smirking. You chuckle.

“Perhaps, although you don’t have much competition. The human eye is naturally drawn to the most appealing sight in the room and quite frankly, I’m so damn tired of looking at old white men. You were the reprieve.”

“Mmhmm.” Flip laughs, sitting down next to you at the bar, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he flicks his lighter on. “I’m impressed at your ability to spin such a convenient story for your obvious ogling.”

“Don’t act so innocent, prettyboy. Your eyes were not keeping to themselves either.”

You huff softly, taking a drink, the smoke from his latest drag clouding the space between you.

“Perhaps.” He retorts, taking a sip of his beer before looking over at you. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I bet you’d like to know.” You hum softly. “You can call me Siren.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Siren, really? What, is that a nickname or something?”

“Something, yes.”

He’s intrigued by your mysterious and closed-off presence, your casual yet extremely confident demeanor. God, how he’d love to make you crumble on his cock, scream his name and beg him for release.

The thought has him stirring in his Levi’s.

“Phillip.” He says after a beat of silence, taking a drag off his cigarette. “In case you were wondering.”

Back in the truck, Ron shakes his head. “Did you really just use your own name, Zimmerman?”

Flip realizes his slight mistake, mentally kicking himself for not having an alias name already prepared.

Your finger swirls around the rim of the whisky glass. “I wasn’t.”

His eyebrows raise for a moment. He liked this game you’re playing with him, in fact, he loves it.

Finally, a woman giving him the thrill of the chase, making him work for it.

“Are you new in town, Miss Siren? I think I would remember seeing someone like you around here before.”

You nod silently. “Got here a few weeks ago. I’ve got some business to take care of, y’know, tie up some loose ends and such. Then I’ll be out of here.”

“What’s the rush in getting out of here? You don’t like it?”

Your lips curl up into a small smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, it almost sounds like you’re sad to hear that I’ll be leavin’ soon, prettyboy.”

He huffs softly in amusement, although his liking of your nickname for him is much greater than he anticipated or would ever admit aloud. “No, nothing like that. Just curious, is all.”

“I’m more of a city girl. All this fresh mountain air makes me sick.” You quip, smiling softly. “I like the polluted smell of New York much better.”

Flip laughs. “Oh, a city slicker. Yuck.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. He’s kinda cool.

“What, Colorado Springs isn’t enough to convert you, or at least open your mind to the idea?”

He takes one final long drag before crushing the butt out in the ashtray on the bar.

Your eyes linger on his seated figure for a moment before turning your attention back directly in front of you.

“Well, now that I’ve met some more of the locals, I’m thinkin’ about it a little more.”

“Yeah?”

His voice lowers an octave as he leans in a bit closer, one of his large calloused hands now resting on your denim-covered thigh. You shiver slightly beneath his touch, the smell of cigarette smoke and freshly-chopped lumber intoxicating as it ensnares your senses.

“I think you’d like it out here, if you gave it a shot. We’ve got a few things New York can’t offer.”

You’re biting your lip as his husky voice rasps in your ear, his close proximity thickening the tension between you. You haven’t been this rattled by a man in a long time, and damn, it feels good.

“Oh really? And what is that, besides trees and grass, hm?”

His chuckle makes you squirm in your seat.

“Men. Real men. Not the city pussies that gel their hair up all fancy and can’t get a speck of dirt on themselves without throwin’ a damn fit. I mean...”

“Big,” He leans a bit closer. “Strong,” Closer. “Men.”

His lips are practically on top of your ear now, hot breath tickling your eardrum. He smirks. “And that’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it, slick? A big strong man to take care of you, protect you...satisfy your every whim and desire.”

You can barely see straight, vision blinded by the sheer lust rolling off his tongue. He’s so damn cocky, a real alpha male type, and you were eating it up. You couldn’t wait to break him.

“I’ll have to see it to believe it, prettyboy.” You say, voice unwavering as you turn to look him directly in the eyes with a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lip. “So why don’t you go ahead and prove it, hm? I’d like to see you try.”

His jaw clenches along with his fists, body turning lurching forward slightly to the edge of the chair, now fully facing your side.

“You’re walking an awfully thin line with that trap of yours, slick. I’d watch yourself, ‘cause the folks out here won’t hesitate, like city folk do, to make an example outta brats like you.”

Your eyes don’t leave his as you lean forward a bit, challenging him right back. “Lotta big talk from you this evening, prettyboy, but no action has come to match these claims. All bark, no bite, just like everyone else in this town.”

Flip is hard as a fucking rock, erection urgently pressing against the seam of his Levi’s, but he can’t even focus on that right now. You work him up like no one else ever has before, and he’s not about to let you just leave with the last word. No, he’ll have the last word tonight if it fucking kills him.

“You wanna see some fuckin’ bite, slick?” He growls, standing up and grabbing hold of your jaw, keeping a firm grip on it. “Talk to me like that again and see what happens.”

You grin deviously, wrapping your hand around his wrist, holding it as you remove your jaw from his grip.

“Heard it all before and nobody’s gotten me just yet. You’re no different, prettyboy.”

A twenty is thrown on the tabletop and then you’re leaving.

His blood is boiling, cock twitching with excitement as he lets you walk out of the bar, letting you think you can get away with this. Then, as soon as you’re outside, he strides across the room, flings the door open, and grabs your arm.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

He walks you to the side alley and pins you to the bricks, body caging yours in. You’re breathless and defenseless against him as his wiry whiskers tickle the side of your neck. His legs spread out and his large hands grip your hips as he scoops down, grinding his arousal against your ass with one long, rough stroke.

The denim-trapped bulge presses incessantly against your backside when he stills and lights up a smoke behind you, taking a brief drag, exhaling through his nose.

“Y’know, I work hard all damn day, seven days a week, bust my fuckin’ ass to get shit done.” He stands up again, kicking your ankle so your legs spread open. You gasp softly at his brazen moves, which only fuels his arousal. “I come here to kick back a few beers and have a few cigarettes, relax, unwind…”

His hands yank your jeans down your hips suddenly, then one curls around to cup your clothed mound, lifting up against you.

“But instead of that, now, I have to bring you out here and fuck some goddamn manners into your bratty cunt before I can go back in to finish my beer.”

You can barely formulate words at the moment, his every move dripping with pure power and unwavering dominance. You’re absolutely taken by him, but that doesn’t mean you won’t fulfill your own agenda.

Let him think he’s the boss, that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. It’ll only wreck him harder in the end.

The small jingle of his belt buckle being undone brings you back to reality, as well as his fingers swiping over your clit through the material of your panties. He pulls away for a moment, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, yanking them down far enough so that he can pull his length out.

Luckily, due to his massive body size and the fact that you’re in a dark alleyway behind a dumpster, nothing is too exposed in case someone happens to come by and see the little show about to unfold.

Your panties are torn down your legs quickly and his digits swipe through your warmth. He smirks when he feels how wet you are.

“Now I can call you slick for two reasons.” He chuckles darkly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I knew you liked this, dirty girl. Bet you’ve been wet all night since I came into the bar.”

His fingers trace over your clit, pressure on and off with his lazy circles, and within seconds he’s got you gyrating against him. Then, suddenly, he pulls away and steps back, hand on your shoulder. He flips you around quickly so that you’re facing him, then forces you back against the wall, flicking his abandoned cigarette away onto the black pavement.

“Why’d you turn me around?” You ask nonchalantly.

He smears some of your fresh arousal onto the tip of his cock, moving it around over his girthy length while his fingers force themselves into your mouth, grabbing and pressing on your tongue.

“I decided that I wanna ruin your disobedient little mouth first. On your knees, use my boots as padding if you need.”

Your legs close and you cross them at the ankle, leaning back against the brick wall freely, arms crossed over your chest. His eyebrows raise and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

“Did you not hear me or something?” Flip asks, voice low. “On your damn knees, slick, or I’ll put you there myself.”

Silence. You don’t move a muscle, watching the frustration fester. He leans in suddenly, face real close.

“I’m gonna give you one last chance to do as I say before I force you down.”

Nothing.

His hand wraps in your prettily-done hair, holding the roots just above scalp-level, yanking harshly. He steps back a bit quickly as you cry out, hand on your shoulder, pushing you down as the shock and pain weakens your knees.

Your knees rest on his work boots and his impressive arousal is lip-level, now. He loosens his grip on your hair ever so slightly, still holding you firmly as he rubs his head over your cherry red lips.

“Don’t make me take this from you too, slick.” He warns.

You offer him a cheeky, close-mouthed smile, batting your eyelashes teasingly. He snarls, pulling your hair again, and when you yelp in pain, he pushes his hips forward. His cock forces itself into your mouth and your eyes widen, choking immediately at the sudden intrusion.

Flip’s head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut as your throat contracts around his length. He holds your head, keeping your mouth wrapped around him, and he gives you a quick look of concern, breaking character for a moment.

Once you give him a quick wink and small smile, indicating that everything’s okay, he draws back before pushing forward again. He establishes a consistent back-and-forth rhythm, grunting softly with each thrust of his hips. You’re taking him so well, better than anyone before. Your choking and gagging has essentially ceased within the first minute or so, the quickest recovery Flip has ever experienced.

Look, he knows he’s got a nice cock, there’s no denying it, especially when he’s got women chanting it in his ear on a weekly basis. It’s long and girthy with a slight upward curve that gives him the ability to hit the g-spot almost every time. Plus, he knows how to use it properly.

But, women often have trouble taking him or making him feel good with oral sex because he’s always concerned that he’s genuinely hurting them. A lot of women are also very intimidated by his size, which doesn’t help him in feeling okay about it.

You, however, didn’t say a word, give it a concerned look, or hesitate even a bit when he put you on your knees. You’re something else.

He groans, fucking your mouth even harder, hands on the sides of your head. Your eyes are watering and tears have already begun spilling down your cheeks, but you’re not complaining in the slightest. He looks so incredible like this, restrain and composure slipping as the pleasure begins to consume him.

You do your best to establish a bit of suction on his length, and when a guttural growl emerges from above you, you know you’ve done it. His hips lose their rhythm soon after, cock throbbing in your mouth, meaning he’s close.

He’s panting heavily, spine curling as he fucks your mouth harder, shuddering every once and a while from the sheer amounts of lust coursing through his veins.

Just before his release, he forces himself to pull away, a strangled groan of agony rumbling through his chest as his shaft bobs angrily at the lost orgasm.

“Christ!”

You catch your breath for a moment, but that moment is brief because within thirty seconds, he’s got his hand wrapped around your jaw.

“S-S…” He takes a second to compose himself. “Stand up, turn around, take your panties off and spread your fucking legs.”

This time, much to his surprise, you obey, getting into position with little resistance. He smirks, giving your ass a quick swat before rubbing his head through your folds.

“Mmm, shit, you got wetter just from having your face fucked?”

His chin digs into your shoulder as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in quickly with a long, low groan, then settles inside of you to allow for an adjustment period.

Your eyes go wide and you whimper, walls stretching out to accommodate the large intrusion. Soon, you move your hips a bit, looking over your shoulder.

“You can m-move.”

Flip nods, drawing back before pressing his hips forward again, sighing through his nose as he picks up a steady thrusting rhythm.

“Fuck you’ve got a good little cunt, wrapped around me so goddamn tight.” He growls in your ear, mouth lazily kissing and nipping at your neck.

The burn of being stretched out subsides soon after he begins, replaced with copious amounts of pleasure, jaw slacked as your body jolts back and forth with each powerful movement.

“I can feel you clenching around me, slut...I know you like this. I wanna hear you fucking admit it.” He breathes. “Tell me how good I’m making you--fuck--feel. Tell me how much better my cock feels fucking you than any--goddamnit--other f-fuckin’ city slicker’s cock.”

When he doesn’t get a response, his pace suddenly quickens a bit and one of his hands comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing experimentally. “Say it, slick, admit it!”

“Y-You, you feel...okay.”

You smirk, eyes squeezing shut when he brushes against a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

Flip huffs. “You’re a fucking brat--god fucking damnit.”

He snarls, hand closing tighter around your neck, lips right up against your ear.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy you, slick. I’m gonna fuck your tight cunt so hard and stuff you so fucking full of my cum, make it run down your fucking thighs when you go home. You’re gonna have to walk into your fuckin’ house with my cum leaking out of you like the dirty slut you are.”

A loud whine comes from your lips, goosebumps spreading like wildfire over your skin at his words. You’re close already, the anticipation and sensations too much to hold off much longer.

“I know you’re lying, slick, I know you love this fucking cock, and I know you’re close. Say it, say it and I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you can’t see straight for the rest of the night.”

He growls into your ear, panting heavily.

“All you gotta do is--shit--say it and I’ll give you what you want, what we both know you want.”

Your walls clench and pulse around his shaft, preparing for your approaching orgasm. But, even though the temptation is sweet, you hold out.

“Eh, I’ve h-had better. You’re really--oh--not t-that big, prettyboy.”

“Fuck!”

His reaction is exactly what you were looking for, hips thrusting impossibly quick as his hands grab your wrists and pin your hands behind your back. Part of him liked this, being called ‘small’ and being taunted, although he’d never admit it to anyone.

“It’s your fucking loss, slick.”

“Oh, is it?” You smirk, adjusting your hips subtly until you find the right spot, crying out softly as you teeter on the edge of orgasm. “I don’t t-think so--fuck!”

“NO! Goddamnit, f-fuck...NO!” He tries to stop your climax, but it’s too late, you’re already there.

“Y-Yes, fuck...yes!”

You’re trembling as you ride out your intense high, his hips pumping you into a delicious overstimulation.

Your release gushes out around him and Flip feels his own climax rapidly approaching, hips starting to lose their rhythm.

Flip’s absolutely pissed that you made yourself cum, allowing his frustration to fuel his thrusts. His teeth sink into the muscle on the curve of your neck, drilling into you as hard as he can manage.

“Brat!”

He snarls against your skin.

“You’re a fucking d-dirty, filthy--yeah, so fuckin’ tight--naughty brat! O-Oh fuck, shit, gonna--fuck goddamnit--cum…”

“Are you gonna cum? Fill me up, prettyboy?”

You clench around him one more time, bringing him over the edge.

“Oh f-fuck, yes, gonna--unnhh!”

Being fully prepared to bury his load deep inside you, fill you up, it took him by great surprise when you suddenly pulled him out of you. His eyes fly open and a choked cry leaves his lips.

“FUCK, N-NO!”

He roars, load erupting out onto the bricks and alleyway pavement instead of inside you. His hips rut forward instinctively as he rides out his high, groaning against your skin.

You smirk, slipping out from beneath his grip, pulling your panties back up over your hips. He’s still panting and recovering from his climax, hands spread on the cool brick of the building, eyes catching sight of his seed dripping down the wall as he redresses.

Before you walk away, you run a hand through his silky black mane. You give it a gentle tug, earning a low growl from the handsome man.

“Told ya, no one’s gotten me yet and no one ever will.” You pat his cheek, giving him a soft smile. “Have a good rest of your night, prettyboy.”

You’re quickly overtaken, within the first few steps of walking back towards the front entrance, by a large set of hands. Flip turns you around in his arms and crashes his lips on yours, pulling you close to him.

At first, you’re taken by surprise, but that lasts for only a few seconds before you melt into his touch, melding your lips with his. He pulls away a minute later, a big smug smirk stretched across his face.

“Good night, slick.”

He walks back towards the side door, lighting a cigarette on his way, leaving you frozen in suspension for a moment. Every inch of your skin, every fiber of your being, is buzzing. You find yourself unable to wipe the small smile off your face as you walk back towards the front of the bar.

You look through the window of the bar as you slip your leather jacket on, then your helmet before swinging your leg over your bike. The engine rumbles, ground quaking beneath it as you pull out of the parking lot and onto the freeway, wind whipping around your body as you disappear into the cool Colorado night.

Flip is drunk on you as he pays for his drinks and stubs his cigarette out in the plastic ashtray on the bar. The damn bastard’s essentially grinning and giggling with joy as he walks back out to his truck, or at least ‘grinning and giggling’ by Flip’s standards, which pretty much just means a small smile.

It’s quickly wiped from his face when he sees Ron in the passenger seat. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that Ron was listening the whole time, and he can only hope that his partner took the headphones off before anything too explicit happened.

He hops up into the cab and immediately, Ron begins chuckling to himself.

“Oh, shut up.”

He says, frowning as he backs out of the parking lot.

“I hope you took the headphones off.”

“So, did you find out anything about The Angels?”

Ron asks, snickering.

“Or did you focus on learning more about the inside of her mouth?”

Flip growls under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Can it, rookie. We’ll go back tomorrow. And, for the record, I cased the joint when I walked in, and there were no bikers in sight. No one that seemed the type, y’know?”

“Well, the bikes were there. They had to be there, right?”

His jaw clenches, kicking himself for losing focus. Although, he doesn’t exactly regret anything he did with you, he just wishes he had worked the case a bit beforehand.

“They should’ve been there, but I’m telling you, there was no one.”

Ron gives him a look and Flip shakes his head.

“Look, I know what it looks like, but I’m serious. I cased the joint when I went in, and there was no one even close to the basic look of a biker gang.”

His partner sighs.

“I know, and I trust you, Zimmerman. We’ll go back tomorrow, like you said. We should go a bit earlier, maybe try and catch these bikers coming to the bar.”

“Agreed.”

Flip nods as he pulls back into the station, sighing when he puts the truck in park.

“Alright, let’s go report to the Chief.”

The Next Day

It’s another long ass day at the station, although there was a bit of excitement when the Chief went out to his squad car and found the window busted out.

Everyone chuckled to themselves as he flipped his shit, almost as if he’d temporarily forgotten that he was a police chief.

Flip and Ron went out to lunch at the local diner, discussing the ‘Angels’ case, and of course Flip’s back-alley hookup last night, much to the detective’s dismay.

He just resorted to sucking down as many cigarettes as he could while Ron fired off questions, hoping the nicotine buzz would get him through this all quicker. It didn’t.

Finally, with the Chief’s approval, Ron and Flip head out at five to Ace’s in hopes of spotting The Angels as they come to the bar.

Luckily, when they reach the bar, there are no motorcycles in sight. Flip backs the truck into a spot facing where the motorcycles were last night, putting it in park before lighting up a smoke. He and Ron pass the time with some casual chit-chat before the telltale rumble of motorcycle engines.

The first bike comes into view, the leader no doubt, and slowly rolls up to the front of the bar, foot planting on the pavement. There’s something so oddly familiar about this leader to Flip, the way they move, their demeanor in general, but he thinks little of it, determined to actually focus on the case this time.

Once the whole gang has pulled up, Flip grabs his notepad and a pencil, ready to write down the names on their jackets while Ron pulls out his camera. The bikers' engines all shut off almost simultaneously, pavement settling back into the dirt as they all dismount their bikes.

Flip looks at all the names on their jackets, each beginning with ‘Saint’, writing all five of them down before pausing when he reaches the leader’s jacket. It read ‘Saint Siren’, glitter-infused stitching catching in the evening sunset.

No, it can’t be.

Saint Siren reaches up to pull their helmet off, and when they do, Flip is stunned into utter and total silence. It’s you...you’re Saint Siren.

You're the leader of ‘The Angels’.

Ron’s snapping a bunch of pictures as the rest of the gang takes their helmets off, revealing the women beneath each. Both detectives were surprised to see that ‘The Angels’ were all women, considering the general ‘man-ness’ of biker gangs.

Your hair flutters in the gentle breeze as you hang your helmet on the handlebar of your bike, reaching into your jacket pocket for a cigarette and lighter, hand shielding the flame from the gentle breeze.

“Zimmerman?”

Flip faintly hears his partner say, but he doesn’t process it, too focused on the reality hitting.

“Zimmerman!” Ron says, shaking his partner’s arm.

“What’s the matter with you?”

His eyes dart over to Ron, a serious expression etched on his face.

“That’s her. That’s the girl from last night.”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m fuckin’ sure!” He snarls. “I only spent all night with her. I’m not that shallow, rookie.”

Ron stifles a laugh. “Uh huh. Well, now we understand why no one could ever figure out who this gang was. No one would ever suspect women to be bikers, much less in a biker gang.”

Your jacket is taken off and draped neatly over the seat of your bike, and Flip quickly tosses his notebook on the dash, clipping the lauve to his undershirt with a sense of urgency. His face is steadily turning redder the more he thinks about it, and Ron can almost see the smoke coming from his ears. He’d be whistling like a damn tea kettle if that were true.

“What are you gonna do when you get in there? Remember what the Chief wants, intel only.”

Flip huffs, buttoning his flannel back up before flicking on the microphone set on the front seat, tapping the top of the machine. “I know how to do my damn job, I know what Chief said. Just be sure to listen and write the important stuff down.”

He hops down, the heels of his work boots reverberating off the pavement as he walks, more like storms, into the bar.

Earl, the bartender, greets him, but he’s already closing in on you. He doesn’t even hesitate, just walking right up to the table you’re sitting at and putting his hand on the top.

“Can I speak with you a minute?” He says in the calmest voice he can muster at this point, staring daggers at you, teeth gritted. “Please?”

All the girls look up at him, then back over at you, awaiting your answer. You stub out the cigarette between your lips before gesturing for Gladys to scoot out of the booth. She does, and you slide out, standing in front of the familiar man.

“Lead the way, Flip.”

He spins around on his heel, then stops, stomach dropping. How do you know that name?

You giggle to yourself as you walk by and out to the alley. He’s hot on your tail, slamming the door shut behind him, bounding down the stairs.

“I figured it out pretty quickly.” You say, twirling your hair as you lean back against the wall, arms crossed in front of you. “After I saw the mic clipped to your undershirt last night. Looked through the yellow pages this morning and found the contact information for one Detective Phillip Zimmerman of the Colorado Springs Police Department. There’s only one other man by the name of Phillip living in this town, and he’s the guy down at the gas station.”

“Could’ve been a fake name.”

Your lips curl up into a smirk. “Yeah, coulda been a fake name, I guess. But I saw the way you reacted when you said it, looked like you wanted to kick yourself in the nutsack. The mic on your shirt tied it all together, and then when I did some surveillance on the station, I saw you.”

Flip isn’t sure if he’s more nervous or impressed by your ability to observe and fact-find.

“I’m not the only one that hid my true identity last night, Saint Siren. Nor are you the only one that did surveillance today.” He growls, standing in front of you. “You’re one of the ‘Angels’, the leader, in fact.”

Your face is unchanging, still wearing a neutral expression, before a small smirk tugs at your lips.

“Congratulations, Detective. I’m a little surprised you didn’t put two-and-two together last night when you read the name on my jacket.”

His eyes widen, which makes you laugh. Had your name really been on the jacket that he’d seen, and he just missed it?

“Saw you not so discreetly snooping around the bikes before you came in last night. You ought to check your surroundings a little more thoroughly before ‘casually’ sauntering by the bikes and leaning over to read the jackets...someone might see you.”

You laugh quietly, shoving your hands into your jean pockets.

He’s pissed, you can tell, but there’s also a sense of respect buried deep within his gaze, and perhaps there’s even a bit of desire mixed in, too.

“I...you’re…”

Suddenly, an idea pops into his head, and the rage suddenly melts away. He could use this to his advantage.

“Join me.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not. Think about it, it’s beneficial for both of us. You want to knock the Sharks on their asses and kick ‘em outta town, and I want to stop them from taking over the whole town. We both get what we want.”

You just burst out into laughter. “You’re a funny guy, Detective, thinking I’d ever even consider becoming an informant. Ha! Sure, I hate the Sharks and I wanna kick ‘em out, but I don’t need the pig’s help for that.”

His jaw clenches.

“You’re trying to turn her now, Zimmerman? What the hell are you thinking? INTEL, Zimmerman, we’re here for ANGELS INTEL, not the Sharks.”

He shakes off his partner’s words, staring deep into your eyes.

“You know this is a good idea, I know you do, slick. All we need are some names. It’ll be quick work, and in return, we’ll help you get rid of them and stay off your ass after they’re gone, as long as you don’t start or engage in any violent altercations.”

“Man, you gotta stop. You can’t make promises like that without the Chief’s approval. C’mon, Zimmerman, get outta there!”

“I’m not falling for that bullshit, and I’m not becoming a pig, even if it’s only for a few weeks.” You say, pushing off the wall and standing up straight. “G’night, Detective.”

Flip quickly grabs you before you can even take a step back towards the door, holding your arms as he steps up behind you.

“I never say things I don’t mean, and I never make promises I can’t keep, slick.”

He grabs one of his business cards out from his wallet, teasingly sliding it in your back pocket, giving your ass a quick squeeze. “In case you change your mind.”

Your skin has erupted in goosebumps as you walk back into the bar, overly conscious of the business card tucked into your back pocket, gently poking your bottom with each stride.

As you sit with your crew, drinking and chatting the night away, you can’t stop thinking about this proposal.

The thought of being an informant scares you. The thought of turning on the Sharks scares you.

What scares you the most, though?

You’re ready to get to work.

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