#freckles from guardian angels

[ellieluvr420]

𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

synopsis: A guardian angel getting wrapped up with the human she was supposed to be protecting, a double-edged sword bound to hurt. The memory of you, your calming presence in a time where everything was hanging in the balance haunted her. All she craved was to see you again. She was addicted, obsessed. She needed you in every way but you only appeared in her mind, you were never part of reality. You were her saviour, the blood running through her veins, all she wanted was you, that was all she would ever want.

TW: 13.6k words (be warned), SUICIDAL IDEATIONS AND ATTEMPTS, SPEWING OF GUTS (vomiting), DEPRESSIVE EPISODES

I highly recommend listening to this when it comes up in the fic btw!

divider creds

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

It was quiet, too quiet, like any sound that would’ve filled the almost-silence had been annihilated, there was nothing but white for miles in any direction, so pure and untouched it almost covered the sinister behind it. Her eyes fluttered open and the hazy figure above her came into view, the only interruption to the vast, white nothingness.  

“W-where am I?” She croaked to the smiling, almost-glowing figure above her. Her eyes blinking open only made you glow more, like with each breath she took dragging her closer to consciousness, it brightened the golden energy radiating off of you.  

“Shhh it’s okay, you’re going to be fine. Don’t panic, everything will be okay. You need to be more careful Abby.” Your voice was melodic, a pitch-perfect harmony to her ears that echoed around her, bouncing off of nothing and hitting her ears over and over again. She cracked her eyes open just enough to make out your face, your shining, radiant face littered with golden speckles that almost resembled freckles. There were golden streaks throughout your hair that sparkled in a light she couldn’t pinpoint the location of. Your skin was smooth, like feathers running over her skin as you cupped her cheeks. It was as if the pain that ached and ebbed throughout her entire body was being sucked away from her through your gentle touch, your hands gently glowing and warming on her cheeks. Your face was streaked with tears, golden, shiny, iridescent tears flowing down your cheeks, juxtaposing the beaming smile of your pearly teeth, peeking out from the plump softness of your lips. You were so inviting, so comforting, she didn’t even think to panic, she just wanted to stay here with you. 

“Who are you?” 

“That’s not important, you’re almost there.” Your words were cryptic, enchanting, she hung onto every word, paralysed by the awe of your beauty. “Don’t waste this gift, Abby.�� The last thing she heard you say before you leant down and pressed your lips to hers, exactly as soft as she imagined. You breathed life into her, breathed pure energy into her tired muscles, she felt her organs buzzing to life again, felt her body warm and as her eyes flashed open she was greeted by wings sprouting from your back, wings almost the size of you delicately flittering in the air before coming down and cocooning you both in their safety. The soft, white feathers tickling at her skin, her nerve cells registering every little flick.  

Her eyes fluttered closed again, the sound of you humming slowly causing her to drift off into sleep, pictures of you swarming through her mind, your voice still softly ringing in her ears until everything went black and all went quiet once again. 

“She’s waking up! She’s waking up, get the doctor!” A shrill voice compared to yours, it stung her ears and boiled her blood. There were bright lights seeping in through her slowly opening eyes but not like the warm glow that you exuded, harsh, fluorescents banging at her skull. She groaned as the pain that you had sucked away from her came rushing back but worse than she had felt it before. 

“Hello Miss Anderson, you gave us quite a scare, there’s going to be a bright light just relax.” Latex covered fingers dragging her tired eyes open and shining streams of light into her eyes, she gasped and groaned and then the fingers disappeared, replaced by a cool circle on her chest. She felt like she had been abducted by aliens with the way she was being poked and prodded but all she could think about was the image of you, kneeled over her, your warm hands cupping her cheeks, the feathered appendages shrouding her and enclosing you both in. The gold littered all over your appearance. She thought it was a dream, but it felt too real, her cheeks were still warm from your touch when she pressed a hand to them, a bruised hand. The sight of her hand and arm littered with scrapes and cuts, an IV in one, purple and black splotches replacing the ivory tone of her skin. She had been riding her motorbike one second and the next she was with you, all she wanted was to be with you again, the quiet calmness of your aura. But now she was here, in a hospital, head pounding and body throbbing with not a memory of how she had ended up here. 

“What happened?” She croaked, her voice hoarse and raspy. 

“You were in a crash, been in a coma for a couple of days. You really scared us, for a minute we thought we had lost you.” 

“My- my bike.” She whispered to herself, a Harley Davidson gifted to her by her late father. 

“Just focus on getting better love.” The nurse soothed but her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, all of their voices were because they weren’t yours. Had you been with her after the crash? Maybe her memory of you was just a hallucination created by her traumatised head, maybe you had been a person that came to her when she crashed. But you had kissed her, she felt the life being breathed back into her, the wings, your hands, you couldn’t be human, you were too perfect to be human. “Don’t try to move okay, just relax.” The shrill voice sounded again, she hadn’t planned too, she just laid there, shut her eyes and tried to take herself back to you. 

She slept a lot for the first week, only waking slightly when the routine checks were done on her, the morphine kept her lulled and comfortable, but it wasn’t the comfort she felt with you, so it wasn’t right. She stayed unconscious for almost all hours of the day, sometimes she was lucky enough to be graced with dreams of you, but they were never as good as the first time, never as real as the first time. The white of the landscape was never as white, the warmth of your hands was never as warm and the kiss of your lips against hers was never as soul-stirring. Sometimes she’d dream of her dad gifting her the Harley, dreamt of his heartbroken face at the news of it being destroyed. She’d always wake with a sob, a choked cry that constricted her chest and made it hard to breathe over the lump in her throat. She had cried for hours one night, restless from being laid up in bed and the slowly decreasing levels of morphine in her system making it harder for her to sleep, so she just cried softly, letting the tears roll from the corners of her eyes and into her hair. She felt hopeless, completely lost until a soft hand grazed her cheek, a hand radiating so much warmth, a slight glow catching in the corner of her hazy vision. Her head whipped to the side to see you sat on the edge of her bed, cupping her cheek with one hand, the other holding onto her hand that was closest to you, rubbing circles into it with your thumb. She stared, wide-eyed and dazed as you smiled, the golden streaks of your hair and the speckles littering your nose and cheeks sparkled under the harsh beam of the hospital room lighting. 

“It’s- It’s you.” 

“Shh, I don’t have much time, I’m not supposed to be here.” 

“I don’t unders-” 

“Abby, I need you to fight. I know you can, you need to fight to get better or you won’t. I know it seems hopeless, I can hear your thoughts, but it will get better. You’ll get better but you can’t give up. Please don’t give up.” Your voice was soft but firm and still it rang out like a symphony, the more you held her, the less despair ran through her veins. She watched as your hands glowed and tingled against hers, you were doing it again, taking away all her pain and anguish. Tears slipped from her eyes, and you came to ease them away. “Don’t cry now, you’ll be okay, promise me you’ll fight.” She couldn’t deny you, she couldn’t even think to deny you, the only thought bouncing around her sore head was that she’d do it for you, because you had asked her to. You smiled, it was radiant and gleamed like a diamond under sunlight as you leant down and kissed her cheek, leaving a burning spot of heat in your lips’ trail. “I knew you’d understand.” Her thoughts raced around her head at that, you could hear what she was thinking, her cheeks reddened, and she hid from your gaze knowing you knew what she thought of you. “I think you’re perfect too.” You whispered in her ear, your breath tickling her skin and causing goose bumps to raise all over her. With a final firm squeeze of her hand you were gone, she blinked, and she was all alone again, your warmth replaced by a cold that sent a shiver down her spine. You were gone as quickly as you came just like before and it only left her needing more, she craved you, craved your sweet scent, your loving gaze, your consolatory gaze. You were an angel, figuratively and physically, the fluttering wings on your back that were so big she imagined they’d drag on the floor when you walked were a testament to that. 

She felt lighter after your visit, even in your absence, she felt less weighed down by the resurge of grief for her father running through her veins, less panicked about the future and what’s to come, resilience replacing the despair. 

She learned she was hit by a drunk driver, that he got off almost completely unscathed while she was trapped in a hospital bed barely able to sit up on her own. She had extensive internal bleeding, a fracture to her left wrist, three broken ribs and a hefty concussion, he had scrapes and bruises, it boiled her blood until a quiet voice in the back of her mind told her he’d get his comeuppance when he was sentenced in court. It quieted the screaming rage flowing through her, dulled it down to a simmer and silently she thanked you, somehow, she just knew it was you, the voice of reason, of support. The doctors had said she was lucky, that a crash of that magnitude, on a motorbike no less, could’ve killed her, but the more they said she was lucky, the less lucky she felt. She was restless and aching to feel the breeze brush her hair over her skin and tickle her nose, she missed sunlight, natural, warm sunlight, especially now it reminded her of you. When she looked in the mirror for the first time since the accident she was horrified, her skin was pale, green and brown remnants of bruises making her feel like she was mouldy. Her cheeks and eyes were sunken in and the darkness under her eyes spread down to the apples of her cheeks, craters that she felt like she could fall into. Her hair was matted and frizzy, the grease in it making her want to chop it all off, she looked frail and weak and the complete opposite of how she typically looked. She could already feel her muscles decaying away, it was obvious to her when she looked in the mirror. Tears sprouted in her eyes, a choked cry caught in her throat as she pressed a shaky hand to her mouth but as she stared and grew to despise herself more, she remembered your words. I think you’re perfect too. You thought she was perfect, even like this, a fraction of what she used to be, you thought she was perfect. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

When Abby was released from the hospital two weeks later, Manny coming to pick her up, she felt like she had been freed, she stood on the pavement just soaking in the sunlight, letting the breeze force goosebumps onto her skin, she would’ve walked home if it wasn’t for her injuries. Even in the car, she had her head out of the fully opened window like a dog, garnering strange looks that didn’t faze her in the slightest. She watched as people went about their daily lives, milling about, rushing to their destinations, she wondered if any of them realised how quickly life can be taken away, how in the blink of an eye what was once a life, a person, a soul could be shredded into nothing, a memory that would soon be forgotten in history. 

“You okay Abs?” Manny sounded concerned; she had never been this quiet before in the time he had known her. 

“I’m okay, just happy to be out of that prison.” He snorted at her words. 

“You would not survive a day in a real prison.” 

“I’d make prison my bitch.” 

“Sure, sure.” 

“Whatever.” She sniped at his sarcastic remark with a small grin. She looked back out the window and her heart hammered in her chest as she thought she saw you standing on the pavement, smiling at her, a quick flash of pure light, she spun in her seat trying to see you again as they whizzed past and groaned at the sudden, foreign movement. 

“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt yourself.” 

“Jeez sorry dad.” He huffed. “Just thought I saw someone.” She muttered almost to herself, Manny blissfully ignorant as he hummed along to the tune playing through the car's speakers, she leaned forward slowly and turned up the music, ‘Heaven’ by Depeche Mode spilling out into the car. She never really listened to the words of a song, mainly liking them for the tune or their beat but as she listened to the lyrics they struck her, resonated with her, settled in her soul and entwined themselves with every part of you, making a home and laying in her to never be forgotten. 

Take comfort in my skin 

Endlessly 

Surrender to my will 

Forever and ever 

She didn’t hear the male voices singing the song, she heard yours, as if you were serenading her. She could picture you, hovering over her, cupping her cheeks and singing to her, the only people in the world were you and her, you had her entranced, trapped in her mind as she surrendered herself to you and all your virtue. 

I dissolve in trust 

I will sing with joy 

I will end up dust 

I’m in heaven 

Now she was singing back to you, a conversation in melodies, devoting herself to you, declaring her undying love and trust to you. The golden specks that dusted your face glistened and seemed to glow brighter, as did the streaks in your hair as your wings enclosed you both, you leaned in, hanging onto her every word, glowing brighter with each one. 

I stand in golden rays 

Radiantly 

I burn a fire of love 

Over and over 

You joined in, a siren song, hypnotising her, the words meant something different to each of you. Abby bathed in your light, igniting her love for you. You, the light, the sun, smiling as you sang about yourself though your face changed when you began the third line, golden tears shimmering over your cheeks. She didn’t understand why you were sad, but she couldn’t bare it, even the way you cried was beautiful, but it still struck her that you were sad. Why did her love make you sad? Was it her love you were singing about?  

Reflecting endless light 

Relentlessly

I have embraced the flame

Forever and ever 

You were quiet now, covering the sadness in your expression with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. She was almost begging you to just sing with her, she just wanted to hear your voice. But you didn’t, you just gazed at her, she needed you to beam that addictive smile as she chanted how she would be yours forever, but it never came, you only cried more, flaxen tears falling onto her face, the shimmering catching in her eyeline. You pursed your lips, and let the tears fall, gently rubbing them into Abby’s cheeks with your thumbs, letting your tears rejuvenate her pale skin and give it a faint shimmer. 

I will scream the word 

Jump into the void 

I will guide the world 

Up to heaven 

Abby’s words had you shaking your head subtly, but enough that her eyebrows furrowed, confusion and fear written all over her face until your hands started to glow. You never let her feel a despondent emotion, always baring the weight of them so she would feel lighter. Her eyes fluttered shut, every muscle in her body relaxed, even when she felt the silky press of your lips against hers, there was no shock, just pure light rushing through her, her hand coming to cup your cheek and swipe at the tears dampening it. Her bottom lip nestled between yours as she gently sucked, colliding over and over again, her hand that was on your cheek coming to gentle brush over the feathers that grew from your back, they twitched under her hand, each one raising to lean into her delicate touch, a small gasp being swallowed by Abby’s lips before you pull away and retract your wings from her touch. You looked culpable as you avoided her starstruck gaze, swallowing a weep despite the tears still flowing down your cheeks. 

“What’s wrong-” She tried to ask you, but you weren’t there anymore, she was back in the car driving through Seattle with Manny on her way home. She was clutching at the feeling, the memory but it was slipping through her fingers with every second, confined to only her mind once again as she failed to will herself back to you. 

“Hey, Abby, where’d you go?” Manny’s voice sounds like a screech in her ears and she winced. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve been tryna get your attention and you were just zoned the fuck out. You sure you didn’t fuck up your head?” 

“Oh, fuck you.” She forced a laugh, but it felt so foreign as she was haunted by the sorrow on your face. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

It had been three months since Abby’s accident and despite her body slowly recovering, her mental health was dwindling. She hadn’t seen you since the car ride home from the hospital and it was killing her. She dreamt of you every night, but the dreams were never the same as her conscious encounters with you, the dreams were hazy and blurred, your face never fully coming into focus, the glow emanating from you never quite right.  

Abby was walking through the streets of Seattle, a slight drizzle pattering down onto her, she found herself going on walks more and more often, she was on edge not being able to train or work, every day she bared to look in the mirror she swore she was seeing her muscles slowly dissipate, she was shrinking before her very eyes and it scared her, all her hard work over the years being washed away in a matter of months, so she’d walk for as long as she could before her body ached and her lungs burned. Her earphones were blasting ‘Heaven’ on repeat at full volume as they had been ever since the first time she heard it, she prayed it would bring you back to her, but it never did. You had abandoned her and she was spiralling. She walked, her face angled towards the ground, until she noticed the pavement had been closed off ahead of her. She huffed and turned towards the road and as she went to step out, she felt a hand on her arm yanking her back. The second she looked up a large lorry rushed past her, fast enough she would have been flattened in an instant had she taken that step, her heart jumped and when she turned to face the person that had saved her from impending doom, she was greeted by your unimpressed face. 

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to look both ways before you cross the road?” Her music was still thumping in her ears but she heard you perfectly, your voice cutting through all the background noise. She was awestruck as she stared back at you, she thought you’d never appear before her again, but you were standing right beside her, blurring the bustling city that raged on around you both. “You’re quite a handful you know.” Her cheeks heated under your pointed gaze as she willed her eyes away from you and to the ground. 

“Sorry.” She was ashamed, she had almost forsaken the gift you had given her, the one you specifically said not to waste and she almost squandered it because she was too busy being frustrated at road works and frustrated at you for wrapping her round your pinkie and then disappearing. 

“You’re lucky I like you.” She spared a glance at your face only to see the pearly white smile she had missed, that she had craved to see. “Your song was beautiful. You have a lovely voice.” She hadn’t noticed you sweeping closer to her until your breath hit her ear as you whispered into it before pulling away again to giggle at her stunned expression. 

“That was real?” She breathed out, it felt real, so real, when she had got home that day she noticed a faint shimmer to her skin but she needed to hear it from you regardless. 

“Well as real as it can be. I was there if that’s what you mean.” 

“Are you there in my dreams?” 

“Do you think I am?” Your question gave her the answer she already knew despite praying she was wrong. 

“I don’t understand. Why are my dreams different?” 

“I don’t control your dreams, they’re a product of your mind. There’s no need for me to be in your dreams so I’m not.” That look flashed over your face again, the same look she had seen when you pulled away from kissing her, guilt. She looked around to see if anyone was marvelling at you but no one was, no one batted an eye, so you weren’t really here, you weren’t in reality. If you were the wings that brushed against the pavement would have anyone stopping in their tracks, so only she could see you, part of her revelled in that fact, that you were hers and only hers, but it only reminded her more that you weren’t real, weren’t human.  

“Why did you show up in the car?” 

“I shouldn’t have.” You winced at the memory, the heartache that reverberated through you, it was an unfamiliar feeling, one that swallowed you, drowned you in its embrace. You barely glowed that week, the gold in your hair and splatter across your face was dull and lifeless. Your hands were colder than you ever remembered them being and your wings lost more feathers than you could count, you deteriorated as Abby grew stronger but to Abby you were as radiant as you had ever been. “I can’t stay, I’ve already been here too long. Stop wasting my gift.” 

“Wait, please-” Abby pleaded for you to stay, to make sense of all this for her but you couldn’t, you needed to lay down, you were tired and hearing her thoughts was only worsening your condition. With a blink of her eyes, you were gone and the music in her earphones was suddenly full volume again, her surroundings coming into focus, the constant stream of cars, horns echoing in the distance, the tall buildings that felt like they were caging her in, making her feel claustrophobic and short for breath, people pushing past her and mumbling about the weather, the rain had turned from a. drizzle to a downpour and she hadn’t noticed, hadn’t noticed her clothes clinging to her body as they became heavier with each droplet absorbing into them. She balled up her fists and shoved them into her pockets while storming home. She was tired, she just wanted to sleep, to see you again, even if it wasn’t really you. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

Abby was lying on the ground, the concrete scratching her back, every inch of her throbbing, there were sirens and so many overlapping voices she could barely make out what was going on. She was utterly disoriented, and panic rose within her as she realised the familiarity of the scene, she looked to her side and saw her bike, completely savaged laying on the road in pieces, then a light caught the corner of her eye and she turned to face it with a smile. Your face greeting her, smiling shyly though there was something manic in your nature, the glow around you pulsing. 

“You’re here.” She whispered as a singular tear slipped from her right eye.  

“I’m here.” Your hands cupped her cheeks like they often did and you brushed your nose against hers. You had guarded so many humans in the eternity of your being but there was no one like her, nothing like her, she made you take risks that you knew could lead to your condemnation, just so you could see her, feel her, the light inside you entwining with her soul.  

“But I’m dreaming.” 

“I know but I missed you.” 

“You missed me?” 

“I always do.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re special.” Your voice rang out, a melody perfectly tuned for her ears. Your words sweeter than honey dripping off your lips, it made her crave your lips against hers again, the sweetness, the silky pillows that consumed her every thought. You beamed, her thoughts clear as day in your mind, each one more satisfying to the next, she was a risk, a threat to your existence but she was entirely too good to give up. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to hers, absolving her of the pain she felt the first time, light rushing through her until she opened her eyes and saw the same glow that emanated from you, encompassing her body. You pulled away to observe what she had seen, your eyes widening, the sparkly white of your sclera shimmering in the city lights. You had no words, you had made her glow like you did and it stunned you. “I- I have to go soon.” You squeaked as the glow around her dulled slightly. 

“Why?” 

“You’re going to wake up soon, it’s not safe.” 

“W-what do you mean?” 

“They’ll know I’m here if you wake up.” 

“Who’s they?” 

“Never mind that, stay inside tomorrow, there’s going to be a storm.” 

“H-” You hushed her before you could speak by pressing your lips to hers again, you were insatiable, never able to get enough of her, but never able to take too much, it was torture, a strange feeling blooming inside you that you had never experienced, you could never describe it, it just was, it festered inside you growing worse with every encounter you had with her, desperate for more, desperate for your undoing. Abby melted into you, hands coming around your waist to brush against the feathered appendages that were twitching and fluttering. Her gentle strokes over them only coaxing them closer to her touch, that same breathy whimper left your lips, floating into hers at her touch before you craned your neck inwards, your forehead pressing against her lips that puckered and painted the skin with flaxen prints in the shape of her lips, your skin her canvas and her lips the brush, her fingers came to graze against the skin between the wings, tracing the indent between them eliciting a squeak before you bolted upright, ripping away from her touch. You swiftly rushed a hand over her eyes, and she was trapped into slumber, dragged away from you until her eyes fluttered open and her bedroom came into focus once again. She sat up, noticing the faintest luminescence of her skin and the burning heat pooling in her cheeks. She pressed tentative fingers to her lips and smiled softly, you smiled too as you watched, listening to her thoughts.  

I miss you. Please come back. 

Her last sentence saddened you, she had no idea the risk you had taken to see her when she sang to you, you had to be more careful, you had to show restrain though it pained you. You had never felt pain before her, but even the pain you felt for her, it was still overshadowed by the ecstasy that cascaded through you in her presence. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

Abby sat on her sofa reading ‘Oranges are not the only fruit’ by Jeanette Winterson, she had started reading it before her accident but hadn’t the energy or focus to pick it up since, her dream that you had visited her in was the sole catalyst for her return to it, suddenly feeling compelled to lose herself in the story. She only thought of you while reading, the sorrow in your features that day, your cryptic messages speaking of emotions long forbidden, how you kissed her like every kiss would be the last. Faint patters sounded against her window, starting softly, until they were repeatedly hammering against the glass, begging for entry, a storm, as you had said, a storm that made it hard to see in front of you from the torrential downpour and flurrying mist whipping up from the ground, the clouds closing in on the city, creeping further and further down as they blackened. It was five o’clock, it was always around this time when Abby would get restless, would spiral into a downfall of grief and panic, the uncertainty of her future, her lack of control on her life dawning on her, this was always when she’d leave the house in a hurry, desperate to escape the confines of her home that suffocated her, but she hadn’t today because of your warning, your captivating voice sounding in her head on repeat. It only made her crave you more, desperate to feel your touch, gaze upon your angelic face, taste the sweetness of your lips, she was tormented by her memories of you and her lack of control over when you came, though something clicked into place, you came to her the first time to breathe life back into her after her accident, you saved her from the lorry, you guarded her from danger, protected her and nursed her back to health, you were her saviour, she needed to be saved to see you. 

No Abby. 

Your voice, in her head, pleading softly, wrestling with the bellowing voices telling her to walk outside into the storm. She ignored you, she was determined, she slammed the book down and walked to her front door, slipping on her trainers but forgoing a coat, her hand reached for the doorknob as yours appeared, clamping over hers and dragging it away, interlacing your fingers with hers and tempting her back to the warm, safety of her living room. No matter how many times she drank in your features, the shock of your allure always silenced her, even the crease between your eyebrows as you frowned at her was entrancing, every golden speckle scintillating in its own rhythm, each feather quivering independently, your features had a mind of their own, each one alive as the next. Your hair swayed as if there was a gentle breeze as you led her back to her sofa. 

“Why would you do that Abby?” 

“I had to see you.” I needed you. Her thoughts weren’t as jumbled as they often were, the background chatter stifled to a gentle hum, you wished it wasn’t this way, that they were screaming and crashing over one another like waves in a turbulent tide but when you needed to not hear her sweet, painful thoughts, they were clear as day, titillating and tempting in the worst way. 

“You can’t do that, you can’t just conjure me up.” 

“But you’re here, aren’t you?” 

“You’re not being fair, I- We can’t do this, it’s forbidden, you can’t put yourself in danger to bring me to you, they’ll find out eventually, you need to stop Abby.” 

I don’t understand. 

“I know you don’t but you’re playing with forces that you cannot begin to perceive. Please just- you need to stop.” A glimmering tear fell from your left eye as both of your hands wrapped around the one you had been holding and delicately squeezed, the heat radiating from them causing her to look down and see the glow building between your soft flesh and hers. 

“Stop doing that!” She snatched her hand away as more tears built to a crescendo and streamed down your cheeks. “Y-you never let me feel the bad things, maybe if you did, I wouldn’t need you so much.” She snapped. 

“I-it's what I’m supposed to do.” You didn’t look at her, only your glowing palms that were dulling by the second, your voice meek and strangled.  

“And you’re supposed to come into my dreams and kiss me, sing to me, let me touch you?” 

“I shouldn’t have.” You said it so bluntly, it tore through her, caused her more pain than she had felt after her accident, and she knew you felt it too by the way you instinctively reached out for her. Her step away from you causing you to retract more as you silently wept. How could someone make crying such a beautiful action, mesmerising in its own cruel way. You were right, it wasn’t fair, to be faced with such radiant heavenliness and not be able to have it, it made her angry, the rage boiling up inside of her, making her skin tingle as her nostrils flared. 

Go. Her eyes clamped shut as she turned her face to the floor and when they cracked open, she was alone, the hammering of the rain the only sound in the room. She had quietly hoped you’d stay but her blaring begs for you to leave overshadowed that small glimmer of hope and you were gone without a trace, the dull, lifeless room seizing her breath from her lungs and drowning her in the darkness she succumbed to when you weren’t there. 

She yanked the book off her coffee table and hurled it at the wall, a guttural cry escaping her lips as hot, salty tears raced from her eyes. She groaned at the pain in her abdomen as she collapsed to the ground onto her knees, nose brushing against the floor, she wished she had never seen you, never felt your touch, that she had died in that accident because anything would have been better than the agonising torment she felt in this moment, she prayed for the sky to collapse on her, crush her under its thumb into dust, disintegrate her soul into nothing if it meant she never had to feel again. She stayed on the floor all night, curling into herself and passing into slumber that only tormented her still. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

You were so close to her yet so far, just out of arms reach though she could never catch you no matter how she chased. She stumbled and tripped but she never stopped pursuing you. You didn’t run, you weren’t frantic like she was, you sauntered and swayed away from her, your twitching wings dragging behind you leaving a trail of feathers in your wake, more and more detaching and floating to the ground the further you walked until there were no feathers left, only the bare bones of your wings, they curled round you and you stopped, Abby’s feet being glued to the ground despite her futile efforts to free herself and close the distance.  

You let out a bloodcurdling cry, the depths of despair heralding from within you. It couldn’t be described as a cry, you were wailing and shrieking at the sight of your naked wings, your whole body trembling and draining of its iridescent shimmer until it was a pale grey. The sand under Abby’s feet grew cold, froze under her sending excruciatingly bitter chills through her body, her teeth chattered as her body shivered. Her limbs slowly growing numb as a swarming storm gathered above her head and unleashed its wrath upon the beach she found herself on. The waves that were once calmly lapping at the shore lashed at her legs, icy assaults on her that were unwavering and only increasing in their power, she could barely stand against the force of them, fighting to stay upright until she was knocked into the sand that stuck to every inch of skin it found. She called out to you as the water engulfed her, choking her with its fury, her calls to you deafened by the indignation of the landscape. 

“DON’T YOU SEE WHAT YOU’VE DONE?” You howled at her, finally facing her and displaying the gushes of thick, red pooling from your eyes and dripping down your neck, painting your figure crimson. You bawled as you collapsed onto your knees and lifted your face to the sky. Your scream thundered, echoed into nothingness as lighting struck down all around you both. Abby coughing and spluttering as the water invaded her lungs and froze her from the inside out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” She called between torturous breaths, but her apologies fell on deaf ears, the claret pouring from your eyes harder. The last thing Abby saw was your decaying body stained with blood, your ruined wings curling around yourself as you begged for redemption, your face blurred and distorted before the water pulled her under, her consciousness being ripped away from you and sending her tumbling into the darkness of the never-ending ocean. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

Abby woke with a gasp, clutching at her throat as she desperately tried to force air into her lungs, her body burning from the memories of her dream, the pictures still playing on her mind in a loop. The rain hadn’t cleared, it had only worsened, relentlessly pounding against her window with a might. She groaned and stretched her aching body before standing and rushing to the shower, she was trembling like a leaf in the wind, her skin cold to the touch, she turned the dial to the hottest it would go and waited the interminable minutes for steam to waft into the compact room so she could force herself under the burning waterfall and draw the warmth back to her skin. She let the shower muffle her sobs as she fought the nausea squeezing at her insides until it became too much, and she leaped towards the toilet to violently empty her guts into the bowl. Each hurl racking her body more, her throat stung and clenched causing her to gasp for breaths as tears flowed freely from her eyes. Her head throbbed and her vision was pulsating as she slammed herself against the wall pressing her face into her hands. Every feeling, every emotion, every sound and sight felt so real, she couldn’t shake the pounding of her heart, it was punishment, her punishment for banishing you so harshly that now when she needed you the most you were nowhere to be found, she strained to hear your comforting voice in her head but there was nothing, only your deafening wails. 

Please come back. I need you, I’m sorry. Please come back. 

You didn’t, you stayed hidden from her, hiding in plain sight, observing with matching tears, your hands itched to reach for her but you couldn’t, you kept them wrapped around you tightly, embracing yourself to keep from embracing her, the glow emanating from you barely a shimmer. 

₊.˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

It had been three days since Abby had seen you, since she had viciously lashed out at you, every time she pictured it, your downturned face barely hiding the scintillating tears, each time she recalled it she only imagined herself as more and more cruel. Manny picked her up to take her to physiotherapy and failed to hide his shock at her dishevelled state, looking her up and down with wide eyes filled with concern, she noticed a flash of pity though he was better at hiding that. 

He kept sneaking glances at her in the car as she remained quiet and still, never looking away from the window where rain continued to pour as it had for the past three days, tumultuous reminders of that day and the hell that followed her into her dreams. She had had the same nightmare every night, stuck in an endless loop that sent her straight to the bathroom to throw up until her head felt like it would explode. She barely ate anymore knowing it would all come straight back up in the morning, she was deteriorating, and you watched, you always watched.  

The opening notes of ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ by Joy Division played, the upbeat tune a sardonic juxtaposition to the words that she found herself relating to in a way that made her so ashamed she wanted to shrivel into nothing. She bit at her cheek and willed the tears to stay in her eyes until the song finally ended after a harrowing three minutes and twenty-six seconds, breathing a sigh of relief as the song faded to quiet. Her muscles relaxed until the opening notes of ‘Heaven’ by Depeche Mode started playing and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. 

“Hm that’s weird.” Manny’s voice broke through the ringing in Abby’s ears. 

“What?” She questioned, snapping almost. 

“This song isn’t on this playlist.” Her throat closed and her vision blurred, her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white, her lip bitten into so hard she tasted the iron of her blood. She focused on the road ahead, pleading her vision to refocus. The second it did though, she clamped her eyes shut again as she noticed a golden, glimmering hue to the rain, reflecting the minimal light the way your tears did, the sound of your sobs deafening her. She lunged forward and pressed the skip button as the familiar tune only acted as a backdrop to your wails, the lump in her throat making it hard to breathe. Manny shot her a look at her odd behaviour that made her feel like she was under a microscope. 

“I hate that song.” 

“Damn, it’s so good, you’ve got bad taste.” He quipped with a snort. 

“It’s depressing.” Her voice was gruff and strained, she barely sounded like herself, she just needed you to make everything feel okay again, but you were only sending her reminders that you wouldn’t do that, you couldn’t. 

Please come back. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

It was the same every day, wake up with a choked sob, a gut-wrenching despair and panic nesting within her, throw up until she felt like she had purged the memories of her sleep, though they never really went, wallow in her pit of sorrow until the sun went down and sleep would take her again, sometimes she’d force food down her throat when her stomach cramped and she could barely stand without dizzying, the never-ending downpour barely noticeable anymore. Manny called to check in on her, so did Nora but their calls went unanswered as she degenerated into a state of depression that was so deep, she no longer saw an escape, the darkness closing in on her without your light to guide her through. She had been like this when her father passed away but now she realised you were guiding her out of it, slowly baring the weight of her grief, now she was all alone, left to fend for herself against an enemy she cannot fight. 

She sat at her breakfast bar pushing around some food with her fork, failing to force herself to eat. It felt like too much effort, everything felt like too much effort, breathing was too hard, sometimes having to remind herself to, sometimes choosing to hold it until her vision blackened around the edges and she felt lightheaded, her body throbbing. 

You need to eat, Abby. 

Your voice, your perfect but melancholy voice echoing through her head. A tear sprung from her right eye before more fell until there was a waterfall streaming down her cheeks, pure, unfiltered relief washing over her that you had you had come back, even if it was to scold her, it was something. Anything was better than the radio-silence she had been subjected to for the past week. 

“I missed you. I’m sorry.” She whispered, her voice cracking and nasally. She waited for a response, her food went cold waiting, the clock on her kitchen wall counted three hours that she had waited, frozen, for you to say something before she dragged herself back to her room, the small amount of food she had pushed down in the hopes it would bring you back, irritating her stomach and aching inside of her.  

She laid in bed, sleep never taking over her body, still wide awake at three in the morning. The repetitive ticking of her clock driving her further into insanity until she sat up, she felt like she was watching herself from outside of her body as she floated from her bed to the front door of her home, slipping on her trainers and exiting the deafeningly quiet home into the unforgiving storm that had raged for a week without relent. 

She watched herself walk and walk, all the way to Discovery Park on Puget Sound, where she stood at the edge of a cliff as the sun began peaking over the horizon casting everything in a warm, orange hue. The front of her trainers hung over the edge of the cliff, the vertigo-inducing height spiking her heart rate. Heights had always been her main weakness, sending her into a panic attack that had her heart palpitating, but the fear was quelled to a mild discomfort, her only thoughts you and the possibility of her seeing you again. The wind whistled past her ears as her drenched clothes clung to her diminished body. The view was other-worldly, the rain, glowing in the sunlight that barely passed through the dense, almost black clouds, she admired it, took in the view for the last time before she took a step. 

Before she could topple over the edge, a pair of hands wrapped around her torso and yanked her back, landing on top of someone with a force that knocked the wind out of her. 

“What the fuck-” She cursed as she squirmed in their grip to turn, immediately falling quiet at your resentful face glaring back at her. “You’re here.” 

“Of course I’m here-” You were cut off by her lips pressing against yours with a fervour, igniting a fire in her that had long since been extinguished to ash.  

“I’m so sorry, please take it away, please I’m begging you.” She whispered onto your lips, but your hands were already on her cheeks, glowing brighter than they ever had, like there was fire in your palms, embers of flaxen glittering on your skin that was radiating more with each passing second.  

“Thank you.” She breathed out as a single tear fell from her right eye. You didn’t speak, too focused on unburdening her from the darkness that had loomed within her, so she leant forward and kissed you once more, a tender press of her chapped lips against your silky ones that took the last of her sorrow away. “I- Can you lay with me?” She noticed the hesitation painted over your features, panic rising in her. “Just for a little while.” You flashed a tight-lipped smile before nodding curtly, allowing Abby the comfort of resting her head on your chest and sighing as your arms and wings alike wrap round her, cradling her. She listened for your heartbeat, something that had always soothed her when she’d hug her father but there was nothing, dead-silence within until you giggled, the sound louder than thunder.  

“I’m not human Abby, I don’t have a heart.” 

“So what are you then?” You were physically holding onto her, you had physically dragged her back from the ledge, but you didn’t seem to have a body. 

“Pixie magic and fairy dust.” You replied monotonously, a snort erupting from Abby at your sarcasm, it shocked her to hear it, you seemed too pure for sarcasm, it sounded strange coming from your lips. “I learnt it from you.” You answered her thoughts, the sentiment making her beam. 

“Of course you did, but seriously?” She prompted you to give an honest answer to her question, desperate to understand more about you. 

“I’m an amalgamation of light.” 

“That makes sense.” She muttered eliciting a chuckle from you.  

I’ve never met anyone that comes close to your beauty. 

“So do you do what you do for me with other people?” 

“No, you’re my only one. I’ve had other people since I’ve been around since the creation of light, but you only ever guard one at a time. You humans are a handful. Especially you.” Your feathers fluttered against her skin, knowing she was your only person filled her with joy, your feathers responding to that surge.  

“Did you play Heaven in Manny’s car the other day?” 

“Yes.” 

“And the rain?” 

“That was me too.” Your voice had a sadness to it at admitting your part in the rain, if only she knew all the tears you had shed, although part of you knew she did. 

I missed you. 

I missed you too. 

With that, Abby sunk into a slumber that her body desperately needed, sinking into you and the warm embrace you enveloped her in, your wings acting as a blanket as the clouds cleared and the rain slowed to a drizzle until it stopped altogether allowing the sun’s bright glow to cast over the cliffside, illuminating the scenery to its full vibrancy. Nature springing to life and thriving as birds sang and a gentle breeze whistled through the long blades of grass you were situated on, resting both your weary bodies, your souls entwining and patching one another’s up. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

Your hand enclosed in hers, sand stretching for miles and enveloping her feet with every step you both took, warm, golden sand that mingles with the crystalline waves at the shore. The beach, but different, calm. She looked behind her to only see one set of footprints, hers but there was no trail of feathers following yours, your wings were plump and teeming with life as they twitched and quivered. You left no trail, weightless. It made her panic that you weren’t actually there and her hand that was wrapped in yours glowed, beamed with heat. She was entranced, just as much as the first time you did it until your free hand came to cup her cheek and pull her face up to meet yours. 

Your incandescent face that was explicit, every flaxen speckle, every lustrous strand of hair in complete clarity, the softness of your lips obvious just from looking at them. 

“I wanted to show you the beach how it’s supposed to be, I thought it might help your nightmares.” Your dulcet voice echoes, hits her ears over and over again. Your eyelashes that had sprouted golden spikes entangled with the others, fluffy and flittering as you beamed at her, the bright, blazing sun reflecting off of you and sending refracted light scattering around you both the way a disco ball would. 

“It’s so beautiful, you’re so beautiful. I was so w-” 

“Shh it’s okay, it wasn’t real, you know that, it wasn’t me there, it never has been. Your subconscious is a mean place, torturing you with things it knew would hurt. But I’m here now and isn’t it breathtaking?” You gestured to the serene landscape around you and she smiled in awe as she nodded. The sky was a pallet of pinks, oranges and purples. Clemetine stretching across the expanse to be occasionally laced with lavender etching itself into the sky with cherry blossom intertwining. Clouds that resembled candy floss few and far between. The breeze was warm, pressing ticklish kisses to Abby’s nose, caressing her face and running its fingers through her hair. The water that lapped at their feet completely translucent, the foam accumulating from the gush of waves the only colour that wasn’t. The water was cool but in a way that provides respite from the heat enveloping itself around you both. “Do you want to go in?” Your voice drew her out of her spell that the beach had casted to nod apprehensively at you, haunted by the memories of her previous encounters with the water. You released her hand to walk into the water, the creamy white gown that always cloaked your body dropping to your feet and laying abandoned as you saunter to the sea. Your form hidden by the cover of your wings.  

Abby rushed to the button on her jeans but when she looked down she was already bare, exposed to your eyes that flashed over your shoulder with a small wink full of mischief. She followed after you, desperate to feel your skin on hers again but when your wings flapped, each feather rippling in sync before the wings rose to the sky, unfolding like delicate gossamer, your feathers catching the light as they stretch toward the heavens revealing the silky smoothness of the sparkling skin that encases the curve of your back, the plump roundness of your behind, sculpted by the heavens themselves. Your leg stretched and crossed over one another as you swayed to the water until it concealed you from the waist down where you turned back to her, beckoning her in with you with a wave of your hand. 

She rushed towards you until she was stood inches away from your naked form, both drinking each other in, every curve, every line, every crease. Abby’s cheeks heated at the gesture until you slipped your hand in hers and walked her further in until she could no longer touch the floor of the ocean. You wrapped your legs around her waist and she felt entirely weightless, your wings that were held high above the water and flapping gently in the wind letting her float effortlessly.  

Her hands brushed up and down the expanse of your back, tracing every inch, committing it to her memory until they landed on your waist running up the smooth skin of your stomach, stopping just under the supple flesh of your bosom. You gently guided her hand upwards to palm them, nodded at her to say it was okay and gasping at the subtle squeeze of her fingers moulding the soft flesh like clay. Her thumbs dragged over your perky nipples and sent shockwaves through you, your wings mimicking the excitement evident in your features, the quiet huffs that escaped your perfect lips drawing her in to press against them. The kiss was heavy with need, your lips parting to let her tongue collide with yours, to savour the saccharine honey that invited her in more. Your chest arched into her touch, pushing closer together as a hand came to your back, right between where your wings grew to push you in closer to her. It was tender, unexplored territory being tread lightly, your bodies floating on the same rhythm, each lap of your tongues painting a song made only for your ears. Your hands found purchase round her neck and brushed through her braid until her hair was freed for you to weave your fingers through and scratch at her scalp. Her lips left yours to litter your neck with kisses to your collarbones. Golden prints of her kisses etching themselves into your skin. 

You hummed, the vibrations rippling the water and flowing through Abby causing a shiver to run down her spine. “Come here we don’t have long.” Your voice guiding her back to your lips, relishing in their warmth. 

“I never wanna leave. Can’t we just stay here?” She whispered already knowing the answer. 

“I wish it were that easy. You make me feel something I’ve never felt before, so many things. Thank you, Abby. You’ve shown me what it feels like to truly exist.” Your captivating voice murmured before pressing her cheek to your chest and smoothing down her hair, subduing her to silence as her breaths became deep and rhythmic. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

The sun poured into Abby’s bedroom, beckoning her eyes to flutter open, a smile plastered onto her face as she revelled in the comfort of her sheets. She didn’t remember getting home, falling asleep on the cliffside and finding herself back in the safety of her home that was brighter than it had been in the days prior. It was the first time she hadn’t woken up sick to her stomach in fits of hysterics. She pressed two fingers to her lips before licking at them slightly, your saccharine taste still lingering. Her hair was flowing freely over her pillows, and it shimmered slightly in the sun.  

She stretched within the comfort of her bed before walking to her kitchen to make some breakfast, the emptiness in her stomach twisting slightly and causing rumbles to echo around her quiet home.  

The sound of bacon cracking and sizzling interrupted the quiet, the smell wafting through the house and intensifying the rumbling of her stomach. She scrambled eggs and roasted some tomatoes util everything was ready for her to inhale, this meal being the first she had eaten to completion in a week.  

She hummed with contentment as the aching in her stomach subdued and the tremoring of her body that had become natural to her subsided. She brushed a hand through her hair and noted the almost-crunchy waves lacing through it, she wanted to leave it, as a reminder but it felt knotted from her sleep and dried as saltwater had always made her hair feel so she took to the shower to restore it to its silky condition. As she waited for the water to heat, she messaged back Nora and Manny, each message full of apologies for her disappearance and assuring them that she was okay before she clicked on ‘Heaven’ on apple music and jumped into the warm embrace of the shower. 

Memories of when she had sung to you interlaced with memories of the beach, every picture of your face deepening the smile lines around her lips. She could still feel your touch all over her like you had burned your fingerprints into her, she wished her skin showed your touch the way yours did, the outlines of her lips pressed into your skin, gold remnants shimmering under the sun. You were light, pure light and you exuded it in every sense of the word. She rubbed shampoo through her scalp until the salt was gone leaving only delicate, downy locks splaying over the expanse of her back. She treated the ends with conditioner and wove them into a bun at the base of her head while she rubbed her pine and cinnamon scented bodywash over her body, the pink under skin returning like it had never left. 

Her phone rang as she finished washing the conditioner out of her hair, so she reluctantly turned the shower off, scared to miss any more concerned phone calls. 

“Abby! You’re alive, I have some news.” Manny’s voice crackled on the other end of the line. 

“You got a girl pregnant?” She quipped. 

“Do you think I would sound so happy if I had? No, I’ve been talking to different mechanics about your bike and I’ve found someone who thinks they can fix it. She said it’s going to be a big job but she’s willing to try, she specialises in Harley’s. Want me to give her the go ahead?” A tear fell from her right eye as her body relaxed. 

“Yes, yes oh my god. I’ll pay whatever I have to if she can fix my bike.” 

“Okay chica, I’ll let her know and I’ll send you her number. You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, sorry for disappearing, you know how it is.” 

“That I do, I’ll swing by yours later with takeout, Nora’s dying to see you too so expect some company.” 

“Okay, thanks, I’ll see you later.” She hung up the phone as she laughed with relief, unable to comprehend that she might get her bike back, one of the last things her father had left her with before his passing.  

Thank you. 

She was sure, without a doubt, this was a gift from you, a promise that everything would be okay. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

“Hi Alice! Oh, I missed you baby!” Abby cooed at the German Shepherd that was leaping at her, Manny and Nora standing behind smiling with takeout bags in their hands. 

“Nice to know you’re more excited to see Alice than us.” Manny accused with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

“I dunno why you’re surprised, you know she’s my favourite.” Abby quipped as she stepped aside to let them both in. Nora hugged her before squeezing her shoulders and taking in Abby’s features with an obvious look of pity despite today being the best Abby had looked. Her hair was down, partly hanging over her shoulders, the majority of it sweeping down her back, the left side tucked behind her ear. She wore a grey sweatshirt that hung off of her slightly now as her muscle mass had decreased since the accident with black baggy jeans that sat low on her hips. She looked well, just as buff as she typically did and she had come to terms with that fact until she could rebuild herself back to what she once was.  

“I missed you girl.” Nora’s voice was soft as she smiled. 

“Yeah I missed you too.” 

“We couldn’t decide on what to get for food, so we got chinese and thai.” 

“Even better.” Abby led them to the living room where they all settled on the sofa and began laying out the various dishes that had their mouths watering, the different aromas each complimenting each other and making Abby’s head spin with excitement. Alice crept into the room before pausing and growling at the corner where Abby’s TV wasn’t causing them all to chuckle in confusion. Alice remained planted in her place, her growls unwavering until she whined slightly and moved closer where she barked and her tail began to wag furiously. She nuzzled into the air, her tail wagging so fast she could’ve taken off into the air before curling up and dozing in the corner, her tail still wagging gently.  

“Did you put some treats over there what the fuck? She’s always glued to our side even if we don’t have food.” Abby didn’t reply, instead staring at the corner in awe, she noticed the slightest shimmer in the air, almost completely invisible, and smiled knowing you were watching, soothing Alice the way you did her. She could picture you scratching behind the dog’s ears and humming serenely.  

“Maybe she’s just tired of being around you fuck face.” Abby chuckled as she replied to Manny, the pink muscle of her tongue poking from between her teeth in a cheeky grin. 

“Whatever, I bring you food and this is what I get.” He reaches forward and turns on the TV to find something to watch as Nora and Abby caught up. 

“Oh my god I almost forgot to tell you. Mel’s pregnant.” 

“No fucking way, has Owen ran for the hills?” Abby laughed, the sound music to your ears as you observed her enjoying her friends’ company, it warmed you to see her embracing life again, going back to how she had been before the accident, before your entanglement with her, eased the ache within you, an emotion that you couldn’t describe subsiding slightly from the powerful blaze that had roared through you throughout the week. 

“No actually, he’s kinda stepped up, we were as shocked as you are.” 

“Wow I’m really happy for them.” She genuinely beamed at the news, excitement flooding through her for them until something ugly picked its way through the glow of her joy, jealousy. Jealous that she could never have that with you, that she could never grow old with you, that your paths were not fated to cross like two humans were. She waited for your hands to take the suffocating feeling away but you didn’t, you let her seethe and wallow as Manny and Nora laughed at the TV only interrupted by a quiet whine from Alice that had her head snapping in your direction and glaring. The room felt colder all of a sudden, emptier, Alice moving from her corner to sit by Abby’s feet and that was an answer enough, you weren’t there anymore, you had left her with these vindictive feelings gnarling at her heart. 

Abby stayed quiet for the rest of the night, speaking when she was spoken too but nothing more and nothing less, eager to keep her friends’ worried eyes off of her, to stop them from prying away at the walls she so painstakingly guarded. She eventually claimed tiredness and politely ushered them out the door with hugs goodbye and kisses to Alice’s nose so she could sleep in the hopes you’d visit her and tell her everything would be okay. 

But she didn’t dream that night. 

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧   

Weeks went by without another dream, without even a nightmare, sometimes she found herself wishing for the nightmares to return just to get a taste of you, even the tiniest part of you, but nothing came, you never appeared to her, and her subconscious never conjured you.  

She checked in on her bike regularly with the mechanic, Ruby. She was beautiful, dark blue hair that turned electric in the sun, tight ringlets bouncing over her shoulders and framing her face. Her ebony skin was pristine and decorated with tattoos that sprawled over every inch that could be seen under her clothes. There were smudges of black over her grey tank top and overalls that folded over at the hip. There was no denying she was beautiful, but she wasn’t you. 

“Abby! Hey, thanks for coming, I’ve got exciting news follow me!” She hurried off to the back of the shop leaving Abby to follow with her heart in her throat at the thought of being able to ride her bike again soon. “I have worked day and night on this bike, she has been my baby.” Ruby squealed as she circled round the Harley standing in all its glory. “Come, hop on!” Abby hesitantly walks over to the bike and swings her leg over to seat herself, it almost felt foreign, she used to ride every day and she hadn’t in well over a four months now, almost two. “What? You forgotten how to ride?” Ruby giggled at Abby’s perplexion. 

“No.” Abby huffed before turning the key in the ignition and holding the start button with her thumb, the engine roared to life and her eyes widened until they couldn’t anymore before flicking to Ruby’s ecstatic face. “No fucking way! Oh my god, you fixed her!” 

“Oh yeah she’s running even better than she did before.” 

“Holy fuck, thank you so much, oh my fuck how much do I owe you?” Abby’s smile was hurting her cheeks as she turned the bike off and clambered off. 

Abby paid Ruby, a discounted price that ‘only the pretty girls get’ according to Ruby and hugged her for the magic she had so clearly worked. Abby was too excited about her beloved Harley being fully functioning again to notice Ruby’s obvious flirtation, though if she had noticed, she still would’ve shied away due to the mere fact that she wasn’t you. She was forgoing a beautiful human for an angel that she could never truly have, her heart clung to you even in your absence. 

She rushed back to the bike and let its powerful engine hum underneath her before she realised she hadn’t brought her helmet, half-expecting Ruby to tell her there was nothing she could do to save the bike when she had called this morning. Your face popped into her mind, the perfect scrunch between your eyebrows when you’d scold her for her recklessness, it was like everything became clear, you’d show up if she was in danger, so she’d put herself in danger. 

“Thanks again Ruby!” With that she was flying out of the garage and onto the streets, weaving in and out of cars leaving a cacophony of horns from disgruntled drivers in her wake. The engine revved and vibrated underneath her but it wasn’t enough, she couldn’t feel your soft guiding hand or see the subtle shimmer anywhere hinting that you were with her. You had still abandoned her. She revved the engine more and the wind whipped past her even harsher as she leant forward and took the bike as fast as it would go. Everything around her was a blur until she saw the blaring red light telling her she was about to smash straight into passing traffic. Her hand immediately slammed down on the brake lever, squeezing with all her might as she came to a squealing stop just ahead of the stop line. “Fuck that was close.” It was close and you still were nowhere to be seen, she had never felt so alone, the feeling ripping through her and tearing her heart to shreds. Her skin burned and her vision pulsed as the light flicked from red, to amber and then to green letting her speed off again with a different motive this time. She released all of her heartache, all of her rage into the bike, speeding through the smudged city until she arrived back at her home, seething that she was still in one piece, she wished she had been torn to shreds on that bike just to punish you for your silence. 

As she entered her home, rain began to trickle outside, then pouring and then hammering, it was a stark contrast from the bright sun that had illuminated her journey and Abby closed every curtain, shut every blind to shield herself from the sight of it. She clamped her headphones onto her ears and pressed play on her playlist setting it to the loudest volume to drown out the bombardment of the rain. She threw herself onto her bed and clamped her eyes shut, wrapping herself in the blankets to combat the eery coldness of her once toasty room.  

You could feel the resentment in her, the sorrow, the unfiltered anger, you could feel everything, she was tied to you, a spiritual tether that you couldn’t rip no matter how much you tried. You were stuck an endless lop of longing and distancing, a fight between selfishness and selflessness, a never-ending battle that you would never win. You felt her tears falling, your own cascading in tandem, your wings drooped and dragged, aching your back with an intolerable pain, whelping and wincing at their strain. They had never felt heavy like this before, always perched on your back weightlessly but now they were fighting against you, desperately trying to force you to the ground. 

You felt her drift into unconsciousness, felt the empty black void of her mind tormenting her, her subconscious laughing at her as her dreams lay dormant, never revealing you or the beach. 

You felt her pry herself awake, the nothingness becoming too much, felt the restless paces all over the house, the stomping steps reverberating through you. You felt her growl and shriek at the loneliness, a feeling you had come to understand in getting entangled with Abby, you had never felt lonely before, never craved what you didn’t already have, your role contented you but then she gave you a taste of something different, something human and now you felt lonely, drowning in your solitude. Selfishness or selflessness, a right and a wrong answer that got jumbled in your mind when you contemplated their meanings too much. 

You felt the hot water hit her skin, the bath full, almost overflowing as she lowered herself into it. The hiss of shock to her system that provided her the only comfort that even brushed what she felt with you. You felt her hold her breath, the water engulfing her as she anchored herself under it. You felt the miniscule air bubbles tickling her nose and eyes, her lips parting and letting the water invade her entirety. You felt her lungs constrict, deprived of oxygen, her heart quickening its pace desperately trying to keep her body alive. You felt the sting encompassing her organs as they functioned without their life source, the emptiness of her blood with only carbon dioxide to carry around in its stream. You felt everything, the fight between her body and mind, breathe, don’t breathe, let go, let the pain float away. You felt the determination, the decision that had been made the second she ran the bath. You waited and waited for her to relent, to emerge from the depths of despair but it never came, you waited for her head to spin and the light inside her to fade until there was no fight anymore because her mind had won. 

You moved quickly, dragging her body out of the water with inhumane ease and skill. You pressed your lips to hers, breathing light and life back into her before you compressed her chest in one powerful push that took every ounce of your strength. You felt the water rush out of her lungs, expel itself from her body, you spluttered as she did, water spilling out of your mouth the way it did hers, it burned your throat and it burned hers, but she wasn’t conscious enough to feel it. You felt everything for her.  

You waited for her eyes to crack open and the second they did you disappeared from her plane to hide in yours, still collapsed on the ground fighting for breath.  

She sat up, confused at first until she felt the hard, dry surface beneath her and noticed the bath next to her, water still rippling from the hasty movements.  

“I know you’re here! Stop fucking hiding from me!” She screeched, her throat swollen and voice croaky, a cough following her words as she struggled to her feet. “Are you fucking kidding me? Just let me die, you’re cruel for doing this to me and then stopping me from ending it. You’re cruel and vindictive, you’re a selfish bitch and I hate you! I wish I had died in that fucking accident so I never had to meet you!” She screamed. You felt it, the overwhelming feeling of betrayal, of rejection. You felt your own desolation, she was right, you had been selfish, what good did it do for you to be selfless now when you had already ruined her with your immorality.  

I hate you. 

I love you. 

She wailed, she screamed and cried because she didn’t hate you, she never could, she loved you just like you loved her but she had no control over the situation, she was a passive object of your love. She was your undoing and you were hers. 

Abby couldn’t breathe, she choked and hyperventilated over her tears until her cheeks felt bruised from the onslaught and her throat was raw. Something so perfect, so pure had bid its evil on her, dragging her into its arms and trapping her in a pit, strangled her with its love wrapping its claws around her neck and squeezing until it drew blood.  

The beach, it was a goodbye. 

It was a goodbye. 

It was a goodbye. 

Her thoughts swarmed and festered, repeating the same four words over and over, your voice merely echoing the thoughts.  

You can’t leave me, this is you’re fucking fault. 

She was right, you were to blame for her destruction, a being whose sole purpose was protection and you had destroyed the very person you had sworn to protect, demolished her heart, ripped her soul to shreds and then watched the aftermath burn and disintegrate.  

“I-I can’t do this anymore, I need it to stop. I need to make this feeling go away.” 

I need you. I need you. I need you. 

She crawled from the floor of her ensuite to her wardrobe, ripping open the doors and rooting around until her hands felt the solid, square shape of the shoebox she had shoved to the back and forgotten about. She dragged it out letting it clatter to the floor and tore open the lid, the way you had her heart. Her hands enclosed round the cool metal of the handle, and she relinquished the pistol that had been her father’s, the only one he had ever had. It had never been used, just sat collecting dust but it would get its debut now, its first and last shot fired.  

She checked the barrel and sighed when there were bullets in each slot of the chamber of the revolver, you shrieked at the sight of it until she placed it down again. She slipped on a tracksuit and ran downstairs to find some paper to write a note for Manny and Nora, it felt wrong to leave without even a poor explanation of why. She scribbled their names on the folded over bit of paper before walking upstairs and leaving it on the bed. She wasn’t frantic, her steps were calm and calculated. You watched her adjust her grip on the revolver and let out a sigh as she raised it to her head. 

“NO ABBY!” You let yourself be seen as you rushed towards her and knocked the gun from her hand. She grunted and shoved you away from her to scramble for the gun. “NO PLEASE DON’T!” 

“WHY? WHY DO YOU CARE?” 

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.” 

“NO YOU DON’T.” 

“I DO ABBY! I didn’t understand at first because I’d never felt it before but I know now, I love you, you made me understand what love is.” 

“I can’t keep living like this, I need to be with you.” 

“Doing this, killing yourself won’t let us be together Abby, it will only split us apart for eternity.” 

“WHY?” 

“If I fail to stop you from ending your own life I’ll be banished to live immortally on Earth. You’ll be dead and I’ll never be able to die. Please put the gun down.” Tears gushed down her face as she dropped the gun and collapsed to her knees, burying her face into her hands and wailing. You crept over to her and kneeled before her, cupping her face in your hands and looking directly into her eyes, a stare so strong she felt like she was being sucked into you. Your hands glowed but now so did your eyes as hers were transfixed. You felt the force of a thousand knives stabbing into you but you kept you gaze fixed on hers as you absorbed all of her turmoil, took everything away until it was a dull ache, she sat, completely numb until the glow of your hands and eyes, the glow radiating all around you flickered violently before dissipating completely. Your hands went cold and the colour in your skin drained. The golden strands of your hair turned black, and the flaxen speckles vanished as if they were never there. 

You felt weak, brittle and dark, the room blackening until only shadows could be made out. 

A sudden crackling sounded, a harsh, continuous crackling sounded until the room was lit up by the fire that had ignited at the end of your wings. Abby noticed it as you bellowed and bawled. You grabbed onto Abby’s shoulders with enough force to leave bruises in the wake of your fingers, curling into her, your body racking with indescribable pain.  

“What’s happening? I-I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry.” Your tears no longer shimmered, they glowed red, deep, thick red as you screamed and wailed from the pain. It felt like millions of tiny explosions were being set off inside you, it felt like the end.  

“I-I think this is my punishment.” You whispered before meeting her eyes, the fear, the guilt, the inexplicable pain all shining through them, burying themselves into your soul, it hurt too much. You lurched forward and pressed your lips to hers harshly, rushed and passionate as you savoured it letting it coax you through the pain. You pulled away with a groan and pressed your forehead to hers.  

“I’m scared Abby.”  

“I love you. I’ll always love you, I’m so sorry, I love you.” 

“Don’t apologise, you made me feel alive. I’ll love you for as long as there are stars in the sky.” She pressed her lips to yours again, her salty tears settling themselves on your tongue as you licked at her lips begging to taste her one more time. Your souls collided as your lips did and as quickly as she felt you in her arms, on her tongue, in her head, you were gone. A pile of ash that faded before she could realise what it was. 

You were gone. 

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 2: My Guardian Angel

Summary: Your first day back at work after recovering from your sprained ankle was normal, until it wasn’t. It turns out your first encounter with Wanda wasn’t your last.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: This is the last purely fluffy chapter for a bit. Angst and adversity is on the way.

Guardian Angel Masterlist

Once your doctor confirmed the sprain, you found yourself hobbling around your apartment for the rest of the week, with a small ice bag or a heat pack wrapped around your swollen ankle. Being cooped up inside your apartment was not your cup of tea, and you grew restless with each passing day. You tried to distract yourself by streaming every movie you could think of, but the boredom persisted. Finally, when you were able to walk more comfortably with the help of an Ace bandage, you felt a sense of relief. By the following Monday, you were eager to get back to work and resume your normal routine.

After graduating from college, you decided to open up The Candy Bar, an old-fashioned sweet shop that seemed like a dream come true. Your shop sold every kind of candy you could imagine, various ice creams, and had a soda fountain on site. In addition, you also made a handful of homemade treats inspired by candy recipes passed down from your great-grandfather, such as caramel-covered chocolate turtles, peanut brittle, and fudge.

"Would you like to tell me what happened again?" Your friend and business partner Harper asked you with a gentle tone while restocking the ice cream bins. The dark-haired girl with freckles had been your closest friend since college.

“I walked up to the counter to get my coffee, and suddenly, these two boys crashed into me. Before I knew it, a redhead rushed up and started talking non-stop. Honestly, I have no recollection of what she said. I think they were words. She was so beautiful that I blacked out.”

“This could only happen to you,” Harper teased.

“She helped me back to my apartment, got me some ice, and left. Then I sat there speechless for the next ten minutes.”

“She’s like your guardian angel! Like those stories you hear about mysterious strangers showing up in your hour of need and then disappearing as quickly as they came.”

You always admired Harper's optimism and belief in fate, even if you didn't believe it yourself.

“It doesn’t count if the guardian angel’s kids initiate your hour of need,” you replied.

*^~^*

Throughout the day, you diligently tended to your quaint little shop as a steady stream of customers flowed in and out, filling the air with the irresistible aroma of chocolate and sugar. The vibrant interior was a feast for the eyes, with a mesmerizing display of candy in every color of the rainbow, swirling and twirling around the store. As you looked down, the black and white tiled floor seemed to beckon visitors, guiding them like a yellow brick road toward the front counter. Here, an impressive arrangement of fudge and peanut brittle awaited, flanked by the refreshing soda fountain to the right and the tempting ice cream display freezers to the left. Finally, your customers' eyes would inevitably fall upon the charming vintage sweets display, which sat proudly on the back wall just beneath the menu.

In the late afternoon, the rush subsided, and you started preparing the homemade soda syrup for the soda fountain. Although it was a tedious process, it was still one of your favorite activities. While in the back kitchen, you heard the bell ring above the entrance.

“I’ll be right with you!” you shouted.

You wipe your hands off on a towel and walk back to the front of the shop.

“Welcome to The Candy Bar! How can I—”

As you turned around, your eyes fell upon the customer, who instantly caught your attention. She stood there wearing a pair of sleek black leather Chelsea boots that hugged her feet, complementing her light wash jeans and a white cable knit sweater. The long brown heather overcoat draped over her shoulders added a touch of sophistication to her ensemble. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back, framing her face perfectly. The sight was nothing short of mesmerizing.

“Help you,” you trailed off softly. “Wanda?”

“Y/N? Oh my gosh, what are you doing here? I thought about you all week! Are you okay? How is your ankle?” She rambled. It's so adorable that you want to squeeze her.

"This is my shop," you said proudly. "Thanks to your help, my ankle is much better now. I can't thank you enough for your assistance the other day," you added with a self-assured tone. Despite feeling a bit nervous, you managed to express yourself clearly and coherently.

“It's amazing!” Wanda exclaimed. “It reminds me of the candy stores from old TV shows.”

“As a child, I loved watching TV shows that featured charming, sweet shops where the characters would gather for root beer floats and candy.”

Wanda slowly turned around, admiring every inch of the decor as she exclaimed, "I love it!"

"Thank you. How may I assist you today?" you said with a professional tone and a raised eyebrow.

“I am searching for a sweet treat for my boys' birthday,” Wanda said

“Ah, the junior middle linebackers,” you joked. “How are they doing?”

They're good," she giggled. "I think they're finally starting to feel comfortable here.

“You just moved to New York?” you inquired.

“Actually, we just moved back to New York from a small town in New Jersey," Wanda said hesitantly. "I used to live here for work, but this is a new experience for Billy and Tommy. It's been challenging for us all to adjust to the change.”

You thought to yourself, 'The three of them.' You decided to file that information away for later.

“Well, welcome back!” you declared. What business are you in?”

“Public service,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“I'm not surprised! You've come to the right place, Wanda. Let's find something special for the birthday boys,” you said, rubbing your hands together. “How old will they be turning?”

"Eleven, I can't believe it," she said while running her hands gently through her hair.

“Let me think for a moment," you said, scanning the shop before guiding her towards the candy displays at the front. Your gaze moved over the colorful containers of candy, and you relished this part of your job. You picked out an assortment of sweets that you thought Billy and Tommy would like, including malted milk balls, jelly beans, peanut butter cups, chocolate-covered gummy bears, whirly pops, and some of your homemade fudge. As you began to package the candy, you offered a few pieces to Wanda to try.

“These are delicious, Y/N. I’ll have to stop them from eating it all in one sitting.”

"Wow, that's the best compliment you could give me," you said with a wink.

Wanda observed you working and couldn't help but smile. You were fully engaged in the deceptively simple task with unwavering focus, exuding the unmistakable radiance of someone who loves their job. It was magnetic.

You eagerly revealed your surprise with a broad smile by exclaiming, "Tada!" Wanda's eyes lit up with excitement as she saw the two beautifully crafted gift bags you held out to her. The bags were adorned with bold red and white stripes, and each one was elegantly personalized with the names of Wanda's boys written in a stunning gold calligraphic font.

“Wow, this is amazing! How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching for her purse.

You waved your hand dismissively and said, "It's on the house.

“Oh no, that's very kind of you, but I couldn't,” Wanda said.

“I made one for you, too, as a way of returning the favor for helping me last week,” you said, placing a third bag in front of her.

You could feel your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage as you extended your hand towards her with the small gift. She looked up at you with a grateful expression, her warm touch on your hand making you feel appreciated. "This is so generous, y/n," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you so much. I won't forget this." Despite your nervousness, you managed to smile back at her, hoping she couldn't hear the sound of your heart pounding inside your chest. The moment was etched in your memory, a testament to the power of a kind gesture.

It's my pleasure," you smiled. "Please tell the boys I said happy birthday.

"I will," Wanda assured, locking her gaze with yours. Her beautiful green eyes caught your attention once again.

I hope… I hope I see you again soon,” you stammered.

“I hope so, too,” Wanda smiled. Your eyes lingered on her as she picked up the three candy bags and left your shop.

For the second time in two weeks, you watched the woman leave. A few moments later, Harper joined you at the front counter.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“My guardian angel.”

*Chapter 3 coming soon*

Tag: @automaticdinosaurtaco

[mellybouboulove]

My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️

Chapter 1

Hey guys, this is my first fanfic :) I'm already working on the upcoming chapters, it's gonna be pretty long.

This is a Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC fic, it's out of universe and takes place in college, it's set in the 2000s.

Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapitre 5, Chapter 6, Chapitre 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau

Here's the first chapter <3

First Chapter

It’s October 31st and I have yet to find my Halloween costume for the upcoming party. I was never too fond of parties but my friends have been begging me to join them. I started feeling guilty for not engaging more with the social part of uni, am l wasting my life ?

9pm: My whole wardrobe was covering the floor of my bedroom. I was contemplating each piece I had to find anything that could work as a costume when I started to question if I should even attend. After a couple minutes, I decided to put on a red top and red thighs topped with a blue dress in a desperate attempt to recreate Wendy Torrance’s look in The Shining. By the time I got ready, Emily and Jonathan were here to pick me up. I was already feeling so tired from all the noise. Maybe wasting my life is not that bad after all.

As we parked I could already hear everyone screaming like raging animals. When we entered the house Victoria, one of Emily’s soccer teammates, greeted us and took Emily and Jonathan apart. I felt out of place and decided to head towards the bar to grab a drink. Everyone around me was dancing and smoking. I struggled to breathe and looked around me, spotting the backdoor to the garden. I paved myself a way in the crowd; as I reached the outdoors. I sat and took a deep breath of fresh air watching the sky thinking about my bed.

I started relaxing when I noticed a presence in the corner of my eye. I turned around and saw a girl smoking a cigarette leaning against the wall. She glanced at me and we stayed in an awkward silence for a couple seconds until she finally started talking. 

- Hey, do you mind if I sit here? - Not at all, go ahead. 

As she sits next to me I take a better look at her, I can’t help but notice her attractiveness. She has a cute button nose and small freckles on her cheeks, light green eyes and strands of hair falling in her face. She’s really pretty. She looked up to me and I quickly looked away in embarrassment. She smiled at my reaction.

- What’s your name ? I don’t think we’ve met before. - My name’s Maya Reeves, you ? I asked. - Ellie Williams. What are you doing here all alone? 

- I just needed some fresh air, I lost my friends and the music is so loud. Her face enlightened, then she confessed to me that she didn’t like these parties either.

- What are you dressed as ? I continued.  - What? - It’s Halloween, are you not wearing a costume? - Ohh no no, I hate this kind of stuff.. Are you wearing a costume ?

I got up and turned around to show off my outfit. 

- Duh?! Do you think this is how I normally dress ?? l said.

She chuckled and looked at me up and down admitting something was off. She continued.

- What are you dressed as ? -Wendy Terrance from The Shining. -Ohh cool.. I didn’t see it but you look good. -What!! you really should see it! -I'll keep it in mind, I'll think about you when I do. 

She smiled at me, put out her cigarette in the ash and got up to leave. On her way back, she greeted Jonathan who was coming out of the house. He looked at me surprised. 

-Did you get drug?  -No why? I asked surprised.  -She only ever talks to her clients. -What are you talking about?  -She’s my plug, she’s at every party just to do business.  -Ohh.

I guess she must’ve only talked to me to try to sell me drugs, I’m kinda disappointed, she seemed sweet. Emily noticed how bored and sad I looked and offered me to drink to get in the mood. After a couple drinks I felt better and managed to enjoy the rest of the night. 

Eventually, it was time to go home. Emily and Jonathan were both way too drunk so I took the driver’s seat. The road was dark and my hands a little shaky, my eyes started to close until l suddenly saw two big lights coming right at us and heard loud noises. l realized we just collided with a car.

------------------- To Be Continued..

[pherelesytsia]

Who did this to you? - 6

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing, Fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Puddles gathered beneath his shoes freckled by mud. Light flickered. The man was broken, frail, weakened by the weight resting on his shoulders. Thomas had imagined hundreds, thousands of scenarios, had expected the worst, but the sight of his wife beaten and bloody evoked tears and the desire to kill.

Alfie slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers, did not dignify the Shelby with a single glance, and walked without swearing towards the uninvited guest standing in the pool of dirt, in the remains, the debris of his marriage.

The men exchanged words, quietly, barely audibly, and Y/N tried to read the lips shaping into hush words, but she failed. The pain gnawing at her bones faded away. Her breath quickened. Her fingers curled into the dark leather of the sofa and the healing wounds running wild across her arms tore open. In the shadows, she sought refuge. Blood gushed in narrow lines along her skin. Believing she was trapped in the claws of a nightmare, she fought, opened and closed her eyes, attempted to awaken, and discovered the truth.

Desperately, Y/N searched for a way out. Her clouded gaze darted from corner to corner, but there was no door or open window through which she could escape into the depths of the starless night. Y/N guessed what had happened, cursed herself for her good nature, for trusting the man, fulfilling almost every tale she had heard about him.

Thomas stayed cloaked in silence, listening to the fading noise echoing throughout the endless hallways of the mansion. The yellowish light dimmed by the umbrella kissed his features. Y/N blamed the blood loss, thought the illusion of her husband with reddened eyes was watching over her, a guardian angel of the grey heavens pitying the suffering soul walking on earth. His face was pale, ghastly. The circles under his eyes had darkened. He shivered; the flames could not warm him. The robust fabric of tweed pants clung to his legs and the white button-down was translucent. Y/N´s heart ached at the sight of his eyes bearing the purest form of pain, an untold tale of anguish, a tragedy so terrible that even the most vigorous drowned in a sea of tears.

The Shelby cursed, whispered a bloody murder, hated himself for what he had not done, for not standing by her side to protect her from the unspeakable. Thomas noticed he was drawing closer to the sofa when the loose boards creaked beneath his feet. Wounds of different sizes emerged. The bruises, blue and purple, grew in size. He gulped, imagined, guessed what his wife was hiding under the slightly soiled bandages around her arms and legs. The water in the white porcelain bowl was murky, a pond in the uncharted forest cursed by witches.

Redness painted her cheeks. His eyes were fixed on hers, realised she was undressed, aware Alfie had removed her clothes and had touched her body as sensually and delicately as only a husband was supposed to do. The soaked rag rested on the edge of the table next to the unlabelled bottle and the open box filled with bandages was on the floor.

Hesitantly, Thomas approached his wife, fearing she would flee like a deer from the rays of the car driving past the fields. Wounds and unhealed scratches marked her flesh. He tried to count them but failed miserably. Thomas swallowed, knew she had tried to flee and the imprint around her neck, a noose made him gasp. Thoughts were racing through his mind, plotted plans, desperate to find those who had harmed his wife. He planned to kill and torture, to drive a knife through their skin, to make the worst dreams come true, to tear limbs from the torso, and even if they begged for mercy, longing for death, and prayed to him like to a good he would not stop.

Rising flames banished the dampness from his clothes but not the tears wandering across his cheeks. Thomas didn't dare take another step, rooted into the ground. Say something, he commanded, but he did not listen. The parched lips did not touch. The questions were unnecessary, knew why Y/N hadn't come home, why she hadn't called him and he feared the answer, the harsh unsweetened truth.

            "I'm sorry." was the only thing the man with a silver tongue whispered.

The wind whizzed through the chimney and fed the fire.

            "For everything," Thomas added.

Wet strands stuck to his face and Y/N wished to hate him, to drive a dagger into his heart, to make him feel the pain rooting deep in hers, but she couldn't, heard the words were not spoken to lure her into his arms only to drop her like a stone into the raging ocean.

            "Say something." Thomas breathed, could not bear the painful silence.

            "What do you want to hear?" Y/N spoke in a flat voice.

His gaze slipped to her lips, thought it couldn't be Y/N who was speaking in a voice mirroring the harsh northern wind, but no other person was standing in the richly furnished room.

            "You can see the answers to all your questions, Thomas. I suspect Peggy visited you. At least she wasn't home when I woke up and her shoes weren't there.” she answered.

She smiled weakly, lowered her gaze, did not want to show weakness, to reveal the tears streaming down her cheeks.

            “Why does everyone I know break their promises?" Y/N wondered.

            "Alfie has taken care of your wounds. I would have taken care of you. I would have done it. I would have helped you. I'm your husband." Thomas said.

She tried, attempted to believe him but the wounds his coldness, and the constant absence had left on her heart were too deep to be forgotten, torn open and fresh, oozing with crimson and his apologies failed to heal the scars and carry the pain away.

            "Alfie called you?" Y/N asked, ignoring the words sounding too delicate, too wonderful and poetic to be true.

Thomas nodded. His heart ached at the cold, lifeless tone of her voice, emotionless as the steel face of the mountain, not fitting the delicate woman with the features of a fallen goddess.

            "I was looking for you. My men searched the streets, but you were gone with the wind. Everybody was up. We were all worried about you. And suddenly Alfie called and said he has something I am missing, but it's still a mystery why you're here." Thomas repeated a second time.

The fingernails drove deeper into the flesh. Gashes, profound and agonising, sent a tremor up his spine. The words he had spoken left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. A response was on his lips, could answer his question, but he needed confirmation, needed to hear it.

            "Thomas, I wish I could believe you. And Alfie more or less forced me to come with him. I wanted to run away. Solomons promised he wouldn't call you and he kept his promise. He called you long before, promising he wouldn't contact you." Y/N commented.

            "Y/N/N, I would have taken care of you. I am your husband," he spoke, repeating what Y/N had ignored.

Moaning, Y/N sat back, holding her aching side, reminiscing, and chuckling, failing to recall the last occasion when Thomas had called her by her nickname. No warmth seeped through her fingers and coloured the sofa in darker colours.

            "My husband who forgot to pick me up, who wasn't there to protect me. You are many things, Thomas, but not a loving husband. A man who prefers to spend his evenings drinking with his family, forgetting about his wife sleeping in the bedroom and laughing at the jokes directed at my inabilities. You can spend time with your family, but at least you could spare a few minutes of your day and be with me." Y/N said, saw clearly, not blinded by fear.

            "I love you," Thomas interjected.

The laughter sent a shiver down his spine. He wished to embrace her, tell her how deeply he loved her, devoted to her heart and soul, how he could not imagine a world without her, but he was far from the greatest husband under the firmament kissed by the sun after a bleak night.

            "If you love me, then you have an uncommon way of showing it, Thomas Shelby." Y/N said.

            "I'm wearing the ring." Thomas reasoned.

            "It would be enough if you held my hand during long rides. I do not demand a lot. Let me fucking know that you love me. Don't bring me roses, bring me the flower I love the most or tea. Don't buy me jewellery, diamonds and gems, I don't need it, I don't long for these riches. I long for your love and affection. Embrace me, hold me in your arms, don't come to the bedroom to satisfy your desire for flesh, to fulfil the duty of a man. A child will never find its way to us, for a child cannot be born into a non-existent family, into a loveless marriage. That's what our marriage is. Loveless, if you can even call what we have a marriage." her voice broke, shaking, but the weight fell from her chest, voiced all she had never dared to say.

Arrows rained on the weakling, bearing no shield nor armour.

            "And despite everything you have done, even though you haven't done anything, I still love you. You ignored me. You and your family treated me like a piece of rubbish and I haven't done anything to receive such treatment and if yes, I apologise." she continued without mercy.

Y/N found too many stories, greyed and cobwebbed, memories of lonely nights, of mornings at the dining table when nobody spoke to her, pretending she was not among them, a ghost, a lost soul caught in the walls of the mansion.

            "On the contrary, when a child was sick, I took care of them. When Arthur had problems, I offered him help, but your brother ignored me. John is quite nice." Y/N sarcastically remarked.

She chuckled and shook her head.

            "And before I forget. I brought my husband tea every night for the past weeks and sometimes even liquor, his favourite, and when he was sick, I was up all night looking after him as he refused to see a doctor. Once, last week to be accurate, I baked a cake and my husband didn't arrive from work so I delivered the cake to his factory but what do you think, he told his secretary that he doesn't have time to greet his wife standing at the door. For a moment, I was convinced he was playing with a skirt, entertained by the beauty of the night." Y/N uttered.

Thomas froze. His arms hung lifelessly beside his body as if they did not belong to him. The words awakened horrid memories, remembered what he had forgotten, realised what he had done, all the mistakes, how he had behaved.

            "My husband is a very busy man, but it would have taken five minutes to take the cake, hug me, maybe even kiss me, but no, he had other far more important things to do than waste his precious time with me." Y/N breathed as softly as the fresh spring breeze.

His mouth opened a crack but not a word, not a sound, not even a letter did he utter in shock and he realised all the things he had done wrong, all the times he had come home late and sent her away to work in peace.

            "Don't apologise." she silenced the Shelby harshly, guessing what he was about to say.

Tears clouded his vision.

            "Please, don't promise anything you can't keep, Thomas. Don't promise you'll do better, that you will love me differently, come home early, eat dinner by my side and go on dates twice a week. You should have changed a long time ago, and you have promised me all of these things. Do you remember? It was sealed by a kiss. You promised me on our wedding day that you would respect, honour, and protect me." she screamed, crying a river.

            "I beg your forgiveness, forgive me. Please," he begged.

Bones threatened to pierce his skin. Tears flowed in torrents. He collapsed like a house of cards under the pressure of the words in front of the sofa. The material sagged under his touch. Carefully he placed his hands on her body, didn't wish to inflict any more harm, had wounded her too severely, pressed her carefully towards him and Y/N did not resist. He buried his head in the nape of her neck. Warmth travelled down her chest and in shock she realised he was crying.

Thomas breathed words into her ear, soft promises, telling her how much he loved and adored her, sorry for everything he had done, knew how foolish he was, promised things Y/N had not said, mentioning her beloved flower, sang a poem about the beauty of her eyes, how much he needed her. The last wall of defence crumbled and turned to ashes. Ice melted away, and Y/N lowered her hands on his back, felt the burden resting on his frame, and brushed it away as if it weighed nothing.

Thomas prayed to the deity and cupped her cheeks with his sweaty hands. His fingers were shaking. Y/N returned the gesture and laid her palm on his cheek. Thomas smiled weakly, his gaze fell on her hand, felt a pleasant coolness, did not lose the last spark of hope, noticed she was wearing the ring mirroring his. Hearts collided, skimming waves, clashing torrents playing with the lost sailor, but the full moon summoning the horrific swells bit farewell.

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[kurogxrix]

Neteyam falling desperately in love with a metkayina girl that is already promised to someone but he doesn't know until he confesses to her 💔 how about that? Have a great day love ~

All The Stars

Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

IN WHICH you are Tonowari and Ronal’s eldest daughter, and no matter how much you and Neteyam love each other, you will always belong to another.

Warnings: ANGST, ao’nung being ao’nung, misunderstandings, loveless betrothals.

THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS, means so much to me🫀

Neteyam couldn’t exactly recall when he had fallen so desperately in love with you. He did know that he was infatuated with you ever since he and his family had set foot in Awa’atlu. You were the eldest daughter of both clan leaders, Tonowari and Ronal, so you shared more common traits than you could imagine. You were both just young adults that were overwhelmed with duties and kids who could only wish to fit into their parents expectations. 

Your brother had been the biggest jerk towards the omatikaya family at first, but you and your sister had both been their guardian angels. You just loved to scold your little brother for acting so badly towards the poor family that just seeked safety and peace.  

Even though you would be nice to the family, Neteyam couldn’t help but notice how you would stay away from them when it wasn’t time to train them. He thought that maybe you were just busy with your duties, but in reality it was way more than that. 

You just had to get away from the eldest Sully son, because you hated the way his luminescent freckles and warm yellow eyes made your stomach flutter. You just couldn’t allow yourself to fall in love with the omaticaya man, because you were already promised to another man. It was your duty to lead your people after the fall of your parents, and your mother had chosen the most suitable Metkayina man for your betrothal. 

Sayko was one of the strongest hunters among many, he wore his own Akula tooth proudly on his necklace, much like your brother. He was tall and well built, given his many years of hard training. Though he was an attractive man, you just did not feel any love towards him. You told yourself that maybe you were incapable of liking him because you were forced into a future relationship with him, but you knew that it was not that. 

The loveless feeling was reciprocated on both sides of the promise, but Sayko was a very competitive and possessive man, and what was his was his. It didn’t matter if he didn’t feel any sort of romantic feelings for you, if any other na’vi tried to sweep you off your feet, he would always be there to remind you who you were promised to. 

Now that Neteyam had arrived and had practically swooped you off your feet, it was hard for you to explain to the man how you were already taken. Soon enough, you had begun meeting Neteyam in the midst of Eclipse as you both rode your ilus towards a new destination everyday. He couldn’t deny the feelings that you brought out of him, how your doe-like aqua eyes made him feel things that he believes he shouldn’t. 

You had to physically refrain yourself from telling your little sister about your infatuation, squealing like a little girl as you recalled everything that you both had done. You knew that if any of this got out and through the ears of your mother, she would probably restrict you from seeing the boy, in any way that she could. So you continued to meet in the middle of the night, and tonight, he had told you that he had something special to tell you about. 

You were excited, nevertheless also anxious. Because this meant that tonight would have to be the night that you come clean to him about your betrothal, and you feared what his reaction would be. 

You had not even arrived by the sandbank when something had ‘attacked’ you. The figure wrapped their skinny arms around your waist, stuffing their face into the dip of your neck. You laughed loudly at that point, already knowing who it was. Though you brought a hand to your mouth in an attempt to cover up your laughter, because you were supposed to be sneaking out right now, not informing the whole village of it. 

“Must we go?” he told you, digging his face deeper into the crevice of your neck. His warm breath fanned over your neck as he stayed there for a second, his arms still wrapped around you. Your ears flicked back at his affection, feeling like a swarm of butterflies were flying through your stomach. Cross that, a whole group of Akulas were, because butterflies were not enough to describe the effect that the Sully boy had on you. 

At times you felt undeserving of his attention, because you had found yourself falling hard for the boy. You feared what your mother would tell you if you revealed those feelings to her, because Ronal was no easy woman. She would probably tell you to suck it up for the sake of the clan that you would then have to guide alongside Sayko, that your feelings for the boy were temporary. 

It didn’t help the fact that she completely despised Neteyam’s family with her whole heart. She hated them for being descendants of a demon and the trouble that followed their tails constantly. Though she had lumped it because of your father, it didn’t mean that she had accepted them with open arms into her home. 

“You good?” he questioned when you didn’t respond, too busy overthinking the issue in your head. You smiled at his concern, thanking Eywa for having gifted you such a man. God, you would fight tooth and nail anyone that even dared to try and take him from you. You turned around in his arms, making them fall off from your waist to join the side of his body. 

His gaze on you felt overwhelming, stuffing you with emotions that you could not even describe. He looked like an angel, hand-moulded and assembled by the hands of Eywa herself in nirvana. The soft breeze made his braids sway as his beads clanged together. His warm yellow eyes were like pools of honey and they held much more emotions than he could express. 

You moved your finned-hand to grip onto his bigger one, dragging them between the both of you. You watched as his ears raised at your touch, swiftly dropping back down as he was embarrassed of getting caught being so enamoured by you. 

“How about you get running, forest boy.” he had not even had the time to process your words inside of his brain before you had set off running towards the forest. His eyes widened once he had caught on to your little game, a cocky smile making its way onto his face as he watched you disappear through the many bushes. 

-

“What’s up fish girl, too slow on land?” Neteyam yelled from before you, running backwards as he faced you. He was about an impressive distance in front of you, but that was the props of being a jungle boy. You were fast in water and he was fast on land. Though that was an obvious verity, he couldn’t help but tease you for it.

The forest here in Awa’atlu was nothing like back home for Neteyam. The trees were smidgen and the branches were comparably thinner than the ones back in the rainforest. The trees were taller and fuller at home, bushes full and lands covered in moist moss. Though it was the closest that he had to his birth land, and that would do for now. 

You, on the other hand, were struggling a bit to catch up to him. Through the many plants that kept hitting relentlessly against your skin and the rocky path, there was little that you could do to catch up to him. He didn’t even seem to falter at each obstacle that would present itself before the both of you, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t put on a good show either. 

You dropped both of your hands down on your knees once you arrived, bending over to catch your breath. You wondered how the forest na’vis did this every single day, and you could sweat your ass off at the mere thought. The sound of his soft chuckle was what had got you looking up, only to meet his amused gaze. 

He raised an eyebrow bone at your struggling and you could only roll your eyes at his teasing. Your breath stuck in your lungs as you viewed the scenery before the both of you. If the previous part of the forest that you were both running through had reminded Neteyam of his home, then this definitely made him feel at home. 

The bioluminescent vines enveloped the place with a soft multicoloured gleam which reflected perfectly off of his skin. He looked so adorable as he stared longingly at the nature between you both, making a surge of feelings rush in your stomach. 

“Did you even know where you were going?” you breathed out a laugh as the boy shook his head no. 

“I was only running away from you, because you ran oh so fast.” he laughed at your struggle earlier, and you broke out in another eye roll. Though you couldn’t help but laugh with him, because you had already made fun of him for being slow in the water. God, he really needed swimming classes because you were sure that an akula would get his ass square and fair if he ever breached the reef. 

Neteyam picked up the pace as he started investigating the place, and you could only stay back and watch him with curiosity filled eyes. You watched as he picked up stones, observing them like he knew some sort of hidden meaning behind them. But rocks were just rocks, and he was just a curious kid. You had to bring a hand up to your mouth to stifle a giggle as you watched him throw a flat rock onto the land before him, imitating a ricochet. 

He looked so carefree that you didn’t have it in you to bother him in his curious time. Though somewhere at the complete back of your mind, you could hear the faint sounds of a clock ticking, getting closer and closer the more time went. It was a foreign sound to you, for, you had never heard such ticking until now, and you pushed away the obnoxious feeling at the back of your thoughts. 

Neteyam started moving again, exploring parts of the Awa’atlu forest that he had never seen before. His footsteps led him behind big bushes, or even behind the old trunk of an aged tree. 

Suddenly he stopped before you, and there was something else then curiosity that filled his eyes. There was something deeper than just interest, there was love. A love that he had failed to express to you from the day he had known that his heart was beating for you and you only. It swirled in his eyes like no other feeling, and Neteyam could only wish that you saw through him like a piece of clear glass. 

“Listen, Y/N I-,” he cut himself off, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your stare. He knew that you had no expectations of him, that you appreciated him for who he really was, but there was always this nagging feeling at the back of his head that told him that he wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough for the chief’s daughter and no matter how much he tried to prove it, he would never be. 

You raised your eyebrow at him as he hesitated with his words, the clock ticking to no ends. You were both running out of time without even knowing it, the final sand grains falling from the hourglass that tied the both of you together. The sky had now fully darkened, leaving space for the bank of stars to shine light onto your land. 

The sky was clear and full of them, painting space like a beautiful art piece. Though, through the millions of tiny stars that illuminated the night skies of Pandora, there was one star that shone brighter than all others. It captivated you like no other, making your eyes strain away from Neteyam for longer than you would’ve liked them to. 

Once you felt his palm resting on your cheek, your gaze had immediately turnt back towards him. The upside down smile present on your face made him aware of your shyness, and the closing of your eyes could only solidify his observation. His thumb ran comforting circles upon your cheek, making you lean lovingly into his palm. His actions spoke more emotions than his words could ever. 

Though his touch was gone just as fast as it had arrived, and the booming voice of a third party had erupted through the fond atmosphere. 

“Get your hands off my woman, forest scum.” 

his nickname for Neteyam sounded belittling than the one that you had for him. Both yours and Neteyam’s ears dropped at the boy’s interruption, his voice disturbing all peace nearby. His presence was unwanted, and Neteyam was not afraid to make him aware of such a fact.

“What’re you doing here? Following us around like a freak,” he threw back the words that your people had carelessly thrown at his family, calling them freaks for things that they could not even help. Your chest tightened with guilt as you thought of the way that they had been treated, before focusing back on your current problem.

Your betrothed was now standing before you and the boy that was about to confess his everdying love to you. The fear of getting rebuked by your parents quickly caught up to you, and your breathing picked up as you thought of all the ways your parents would punish you for breaking your promised path. Sayko looked like he was overflowing with anger as he stared between you and the Sully boy, clearly not liking as the boy was so closed to his future matez 

Just then, the words seemed to have clicked inside Neteyam’s head. Sayko’s confession was like the final sand grain that hit the bottom of the hourglass. It grounded you, made you feel bitterness for not using your time like you had to, like you could’ve. It left you feeling empty as you gazed towards the boy whose heart you had just involuntarily broken, the same boy who’s heart had learnt to beat for you. The same boy that you had shown a whole different definition of life to. 

Of course you were already someone else’s, how could he have been so stupid. You were the chief’s eldest daughter after all. Everything was laid down before you and you could have anything that you wanted, including the attention of many warriors and townsmen. Though he knew that it wasn’t truly like this, that you had worked hard for where you were today, anger clouded his judgement before he could even do anything. 

“Neteyam…I was going to tell you, I promise.” you tried, but it fell deaf to the warrior’s ears. 

“No,” Neteyam breathed a humourless laugh out as he pinched his nose bridge between his fingers in conflict. “We are not even together, I am stupid for getting upset at you. You are allowed to live the life you want to.” he tells you, as though it was truly your choice to be with Sayko. He looked at you with a foreign look in his eyes, one that you had never seen him look at you with before. 

His glare was not hateful, but the trace of betrayal was overpowering. It swarmed his iris that was once filled with love, both feelings that you had inflicted upon him. Neteyam turned to look between you and your betrothed in an attempt to depict if you were pulling some kind of joke on him, trying to catch if this had been all fake.

But no, all that was fake was the moments that you had spent together. All that was fake were the scenarios that you would replay in your mind as you imagined a future where you would be happy with the boy, but life was never that easy. 

“Your parents are waiting for you at your marui, i’m sure your mother will be glad to see you ma Y/N.” the nickname threw you off, but the fact that he had already made your family aware of your little escapade made you sick to the stomach. He really had the audacity to not only stalk the both of you, but also make your parents aware of it? It made you want to recoil as he brought a hand to lay down you back, pushing you forward. Your eyes burnt as you turned back to look at the crestfallen Neteyam, who he could walk behind you both and watch as your future mate escorted you back home. 

Sayko’s touch felt like fire upon your skin, but not the good type of warmth. His hand felt like the ravaging flames that only brought devastation, and you4 growing hatred towards the boy could counter that heat. You wanted nothing more than to rip the hand that laid against your lower back, but you knew that you were already in so much trouble, and your parents' wrath was not something to be messed with. 

Your heart soared with guilt and resentment as you didn’t have time to properly explain anything to Neteyam before Sayko had pulled you away. You feared that you would never have the time to explain anything to him, because you knew that your mother would keep a sharp eye on you to prevent you from escaping to meet the boy once more. 

-

You had not even had time to properly enter your family’s marui when your mother had begun to bombard you with questions. The marui was vacant of anyone other than your mother, your betrothed and yourself because your father had escorted everyone outside. Tonowari knew that Ronal would’ve been better at dealing with this situation herself, so he left her to scold you. 

Neteyam had not even had the chance to enter with you because his own father had grabbed him by the base of his ear tightly, punishing him like he was a little kid once more. You did not know what was bound to happen to the both of you, but you did know one thing, and it was that your mother was standing fuming before you. 

“Is this true?” your mother seethed as she stood next to Sayko. The man looked down at you, his tall figure towering over you. Your ears flicked back as you looked down, unable to look at the fierce glare that your mother had casted upon you. 

She curtly grabbed onto your finned-arm, pulling you towards her as she forced you to meet her eyes. Your lips wobbled at the sheer disappointment in your mother’s eyes, because you were just as sensible as your little sister and a mother’s discontentment hurt more than any wound could. 

“Is this true, daughter?” Ronal repeated again, more stern with her tone. You nodded slightly, intimidated by your mother’s dominance. Many were scared of Ronal in your clan, and thus why she made a perfect leader. A single tear ran down your soft cheek but her eyes failed to soften at your vulnerability. 

Not even an hour ago, you had been sharing a special moment with the boy that you were so in love with. A man that you could picture a future with, unlike the warrior that was currently towering over you cowering frame. You wanted to tell your mother all of Neteyam’s accomplishments, how he was already trained to lead a clan, or how he was the second best warrior after his mother. Though you knew that she’d just shut you down, because there was nothing more important to your mother than duties, not even your own heart. 

It didn’t matter to her if your heart was beating for another, she’d pull it out with her own hands and pump it manually if she had to. Your silence was enough to tell Ronal what she needed to know, and her disappointment was practically flowing freely off of her. You had never seen her this angry, not when Ao’nung had gotten in any fight, or when Tsireya had returned home late because she had gotten lost in time while looking for pretty shells. 

It was unfair, everything was. You wanted to be able to love who you wanted to, and have a future together. You wanted to move into your very own marui with Neteyam and decorate the place together. But you couldn’t for as long as you were the chief’s daughter, and nothing in this world could change that. The Great-Mother couldn’t rebirth you as another even if you begged with your entire will, and she couldn’t fix what had happened between the both of you either.

Sayko had been dismissed immediately after your confirmation of the events, not without Ronal informing him that she’d talk to him and his family once everything was resolved. She stood before you now, her pregnant belly being the only matter of space between the both of you. 

“You have disappointed me daughter,” she stared into your shaky eyes, running a hand down her face. She was exhausted from her duties, and your betrayal to your betrothed was not how she had expected her night to end. “I plan out your future, give you an easy life and this is how you thank me, by affiliating yourself with those demons!” 

You couldn’t even defend Neteyam even if you wanted to, because you knew the bigger grave that it would dig you. You couldn’t even say anything as the rest of your family had re-entered the tent, silence suffocating you all. You couldn’t even get yourself to shift your gaze towards your little sister that had called out for your name, distantly hearing your brother telling her to leave you alone.  

Tonight you had lost someone very special to you, and death was not even in the frame. The feeling of hurt enveloped your heart and squeezed it so hard that you were sure you could physically feel your chest tightening with anguish. Now nothing could undo what was done now, not your apologies, not your begging, and surely not your lies.

As you laid on your mat at night, you couldn’t help but observe the night sky through the open window of your marui. Tears running freely through your silent sobs, staining your delicate skin as they flowed unceasingly. You couldn’t help but be entranced by the stars on this night, noticing how they seemed closer tonight. 

Neteyam was just like a star, beautiful and bright from afar just as from up close. Though he was only meant to be appreciated from afar because he burns when you’re at close proximity. But that never happens, because you never get close enough for it to burn, and so you’re left with the resenting feeling of never being able to get close enough. 

-

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part III: blackwater ii

originally posted on 1 march 2023

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 10k

summary: disaster strikes while you're working a real estate scam with Arthur and Hosea. A job gone wrong leaves you with two options: flee or die.

a/n: chapter three!!! This is a big chapter, and a very important one! This is our last chapter in blackwater. Reader discretion is advised while reading this. Please look at the warnings and decide for yourself whether or not you want to read. As always, thank you to my beta reader @margowritesthings

warnings: gore, death, animal death, wounds, trauma, mentions of post traumatic stress, reader discretion highly advised.

SERIES MASTERPOST

The camp is quiet tonight, well this morning to be exact. Mostly everyone has gone to bed already. With the ferry job in Blackwater coming up, the gang has been working extra hard, counting for early mornings and earlier nights. The dark blue sky is littered with stars and constellations, and you lean back against the log on the ground to look up at them. They freckle the sky, and you gaze up at them in wonder. You’ve always been amazed by the stars. Your momma used to teach you about the constellations. She would lie on the grass with you, not unlike you are right now, hand intertwined with your own while the other pointed up at the stars. Sometimes your Pa would come out too, sit on the other side of you, sandwiching you between your parents when you were just a girl. Your favorite has always been Lupus, ever since childhood the constellation has stuck with you, watching over you like a guardian angel. The stars string together, making the perfect form of a howling wolf. It takes you a little bit, but after some familiar searching you finally find the collection of stars.

The warm campfire heats you despite the chill of the night, warming your bones and keeping you content even as wind rolls across the plains tousling your hair. You could lay here forever, watching the stars. It's quiet, peaceful. You crave time like this, time to get back to your roots and feel free. As you watch the constellation, you wish that you could throw back your head and howl with it. Your momma always called you her little star, and shit, it's no mystery as to why. You’re aflame, fiery and burning brighter than the sun, your personality shines, you’re bold and beautiful. A silent tear drips down your cheek, and you hastily wipe it away, watching as a white streak shoots across the dark night. A shooting star.

"Hey, momma…" You whisper up at the sky, laughing despite the tears in your eyes. You close them, thinking of a wish to ask  of the star. What do you want? Of anything you could have, what should you wish for?

A throat clears beside you, and you startle, instinctually reaching for the wooden handle of your knife and unsheathing it half way.

"Hold your horses there, dont go pokin' holes in me just yet, I brought you a beer for chrissakes." Arthur chuckles, resting down beside you against the log. You slip your knife back into its sheath, muttering a small apology as you gratefully accept the glass bottle from his extended hand. He's already popped the cap for you, and you press the rim to your lips, savoring the unfortunately warm alcohol. 

"So… ya settling in alright?" Arthur asks, bringing one knee up to rest his elbow on. The firelight dances in his soft eyes, matching the fire in your own as he looks to you under the brim of his hat. He’s wearing a black stand collar shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and he must have just taken a bath in town. You notice the sweet smell of lavender on him, and his freshly trimmed beard. It makes you release a laugh under your breath, the thought of him using oils in a bath. 

"Yeah.. I think so." You answer honestly, watching the burning logs in front of you. 

"What’s your plan then? Should be well enough on your feet… you- you leavin'? Or-" Arthur looks down to his lap as he asks, not wanting to look into your eyes for fear of seeing your response. You sigh, thinking over what you should do and what you want to do. You don't want to go, not in the slightest, but you should. 

"I don't know… Maybe I'll just stay a little longer. Not like I have anywhere else to go, or any family to go back to." You whisper, setting your beer on the dirt and pulling a few pieces of grass out from the ground to distract yourself from thinking. Arthur nods, bringing the neck of his bottle to his lips and swigging back some while contemplating your words.

Arthur doesn't want you to go, he can't place why- he doesn't want to label why, but he wants you to stay. Arthur knows what staying means, staying means risking your life every day, being on the run every day. It's no life you asked for, it's no life you deserve. He wants you to get away, to live a life with a husband and a family. Not to turn out like him. And at the same time he's so driven to be around you, to talk to you, be with you. It's a dilemma that frequents the pages of his journal. 

"If you're leavin', you'll wanna be long gone before this ferry job comes round." Arthur whispers darkly. 

You know he's right. If you're mixed up with the Van der Linde gang during the ferry robbery you'll never get the price off your head, not alive anyway. 

"Yeah…" You mumble, biting your lip and pulling at the grass. 

Arthur notices the shift in your mood, the uncomfortable feeling that's come over you from thinking about the situation. He wants to comfort you, tell you it'll be okay. But you both know he can't promise that. 

"Ain't no need to rush a decision. Ferry job's a ways out yet. Just think on it." He says, resting his hand on your leg in a show of comfort. Immediately your eyes shoot to his hand, it rests a little above your knee, warm and comforting, a show of support. It's been a long time since someone has cared for you in the way Arthur has. And shit, you barely know him.

"Okay." You smile.

Arthur squeezes your knee gently before placing his hands on the dirt and standing up. He brushes some dirt and grass off his jeans before placing his hands on his belt and looking to you one last time. 

“Think I’m gonna turn in for the night, you?” He asks, grabbing his bottle from the ground.

You could go to bed now, but the stars are so beautiful, and you have a lot to think about. You need to make a decision before the robbery, which is approaching all too quickly. 

“Reckon I’ll stay out just a bit longer…” You whisper, laying down against the log again to look up at the sky. Arthur nods, tipping his hat to you lightly.

“G’night, miss.” He whispers, taking a few steps back before turning and heading towards his tent. He glances back at you a few times before he makes it there, watching as your eyes sparkle, just like the stars you’re watching.

You have nowhere to go, and no means of making money besides whoring. And you will not sell yourself to the sleazy rats that occupy the town. You have no quarrel with the women who choose that path, you understand their limited options in the workforce, but you can’t. And if you do go, you’ll have no one. Your Momma and Pa are gone, you’ve left your hometown on account of lawmen tracking you down, and you’ve lost your damn horse. The only people you have now are those who have welcomed you into the gang: Arthur, Hosea, Abigail, the girls and Jack. 

So you’ll stay.

— — —

You snatch an apple off of Pearson’s table, crunching into it as you make your way over to the table. The fruit is sweet, a perfect breakfast that wakes you up and satisfies your early morning sweet tooth. Well, fairly early. You slept in a bit later than usual, until about 9am, and by the time you'd thrown on your outfit for the day , a white shirt and black pants, it’s about a quarter after. So far no one’s given you trouble for your little slip up, but you expect some hassle from Grimshaw later. 

“Come sit, there's still some room, we saved you a seat so we didn’t have to sit by Uncle!” Jenny hollers from the table across camp. Seated at the little round table are Jenny, Abigail and Marybeth. With a small smile you head over, chuckling as Uncle yells something from his spot on the ground in front of the fire. 

“Mornin’ ladies.” You offer, sitting down at the wooden table and resting your elbows on the top. Marybeth is invested in a book, with a cup of coffee that's sitting on the table. Jenny sits with her boots resting up on the tabletop, sharpening her knife, and you and Abigail share an amused glance at her behavior. 

“We was just talkin’ about how Jenny’s getting pretty serious with Mr. Summers.” Abigail prods, raising her eyebrows a little and nudging you with her elbow. Jenny rolls her eyes, jokingly glaring at Abigail for a second before returning to sharpening her knife.

“And so what if we are? You gonna offer me some advice or somethin, with you bein’ married and all?” Jenny asks, looking across the center of camp to where John is talking with Arthur, Dutch and Hosea. Your eyes linger on the four men for a moment, as their conversation looks heated. Hopefully everythings alright. You’ve noticed the stress levels have been especially high in camp with the ferry coming soon. It's only a few nights away. 

“We ain't married. Well not really anyways, not officially.” Abigail looks downtrodden by the fact, and you try to quickly change the subject to ease her heartache. You’ve seen the tension in their relationship, and heard her quiet cries at night when John sleeps by the fire instead of in their tent. 

“You’re askin’ for marriage advice? Are you two tyin’ the knot?” You ask, to which Jenny quickly shushes you, clamping her hand over your mouth with wide eyes. Marybeth has shifted interest from her book to your conversation, fully leaning in with a big smile. 

“Have you talked about it? My lord- marriage, what a dream!” Marybeth beams, leaning in towards the table with hopeful eyes. 

“We did,” Jenny releases her hand from your mouth with a chuckle. She's blushing and you couldn’t be happier for her. “After this ferry robbery we’re heading down to Tumbleweed. There’s a minister down there who agreed to do it, he’s a rather progressive fella, doesn’t know about our career choice, of course. God, we’re gonna be married.” 

Marybeth squeals at Jenny's admission, jumping out of her seat to engulf the blonde girl in a hug. You and Abigail share a glance, giggling at the girls. Jenny deserves marriage. It’s not something you’d imagined that she would see value in, but you can see the joy in her eyes. The way she looks at him, like he’s her whole world. Love isn’t something you’ve thought much about. You’ve always figured that if it happened, it happened. You’ve never sought it out, you’ve always been too busy surviving to worry about it. But what Jenny and Lenny have, you admire. 

Amidst the quiet celebrations, a throat clears itself. You’d missed the approaching footsteps of Arthur, but you now turn to find him standing by your chair. 

“Ladies,” Arthur greets, dipping his head lightly before turning his attention to you. The girls’ chatter quiets down to hushed whispers and giggles as Arthur buckles his gun belt over his waist while addressing you. 

“Ride wit’ me?” He asks, a hair falling down into his face as he clasps the golden buckle.  Arthur hasn’t asked you on a job with him since you’ve arrived. In fact, you haven’t left except to run errands since he’d brought you back just a few days ago. Your brows knit together as you sip at your coffee, setting it down on the table before standing up. 

“Uh, sure, what’re we doin’?” You ask. 

Arthur begins walking towards the hitching posts of camp, rolling his sleeves up in the warm sun. You follow after him, grabbing your hat from its nail in your tent on the way out and following him to the horses. As you approach the hitching posts, you watch as Arthur runs a brush over his mare, getting her coat in pristine condition and offering her little treats as he talks.

“Hosea and I’ve been cookin’ up this little real estate scam. Could use another person, and I dont trust many of these fools.” Arthur glances around the camp, eyeing Micah and Bill in particular, both have purple bruises blossoming along their cheeks from your fists, and Arthur chuckles for it.

“Just gotta keep this feller tied up for a while so Hosea can work his magic, I’ll explain on the way, c’mon.” 

Arthur pulls two cigarettes out of his satchel, offering one out to you, which you gratefully take. As you grab the premium roll, your hand brushes lightly against his own, and you blush, noticing the warmth, and the sheen of sweat to his forearms, 

“...Sorry.” You mumble, not understanding your flustered state. Arthur only chuckles at your blush, leaning down to strike a match against the bottom of his boot. 

“Here.” He whispers, and you place the cigarette between your lips, leaning in towards his match. The end of your smoke catches and you inhale the tobacco, relishing in the subtle ease of your anxieties. 

“Thanks.” 

Arthur tosses the spent match onto the ground, stepping onto it for good measure before grabbing the saddle horn and hoisting himself onto Boadicea. Following his lead, you pat your unnamed buckskin before climbing up onto him. You miss your horse, the bond you shared, and you notice the way Arthur adjusts himself in his seat, taking any extra tension off the mare’s back. He keeps his reins loose, and his hands steady, giving the mare her head in a show of trust. As you both pick up a trot heading away from camp and towards Blackwater, you listen to the quiet affirmations that he whispers to Boadicea, the flies that he swats away from her ears and neck. He really loves his horse. Your heart warms at the sight. 

“So this job…” You start, hoping to gain some insight on what the plan is. Arthur had mentioned real estate. You had seen in the paper that there’s a run down shack for sale with a decent bit of land, but you can’t imagine that this scam has anything to do with it. It’s called Beecher’s…. Something. But it’s run down and the ground is full of rocks. Only an idiot would ever use it for farmland, assuming that's what this is about. Arthur turns his head a little to the side in order to yell to you as you canter from Tall Trees towards the town. 

“Yeah, there's a piece of land for sale round here called Beecher’s hope,” ah, Beecher’s Hope, that's it, “It’s goin’ up for auction. There's an oil man nearby who wants the rights to the land for a rig, but he don’t wanna pay full price for it. His names’ Cornwall. Now we ain’t actually met him, he just sends his errand boys out, but the money is good.” Arthur yells over the sound of pounding hooves. 

“Okay, what’s that got to do with us? Could you explain this a little more before you drag me into town without a goddamn plan?!” You yell, pushing the buckskin faster to catch up with Boadicea. 

“Calm yourself, woman. I got a plan. There’s another feller that wants the land just as bad as Cornwall, apparently he's in town just waitin’ to bid on this place. He’s Gavin Clifton, never heard of him, but Hosea says he’s big business out west, a direct competitor to Cornwall.”

“Okay? I'm still waitin’ to hear our part in this...” You say, more confused than you were two minutes ago. 

“Cornwalls payin’ us to find Mr. Clifton and keep him from getting to this auction. It’s a win-win. We get paid, Cornwall gets his land and everyone goes home happy.”

“Except for Gavin Clifton.” You joke. 

“Yeah, well at least he’ll be alive. He’s holed up in the saloon, been spending the night there while in town. We go in with masks, just hold him in his room till it's over, in and out.”

“Okay, can do.” You quip, slowing the buckskin to a trot as you head into town. They’ve fixed Blackwater up in the past few years, replacing dirt roads with pavers, and started putting up a town hall. Although the fresh coats of paint and hooves clicking against the road is nice, you miss the simplicity of how it used to be. They’ve brought electricity to Blackwater, and it's becoming far too ‘city-like’ for your tastes.

“Saloons’ right up here. Have your mask ready. We don’t wanna alarm anyone so we slip them up right before we get to his door.” 

You mentally smack yourself for not realizing it until now, but you pat your satchel and remember that your best robbing neckerchief is tucked away right on your bedside table in camp. You curse under your breath as Arthur pulls Boadicea up to one of the iron hitching posts and tosses her reins over the keeper. 

“Arthur-” You somewhat whisper, jumping down from the buckskin, not even hitching it and jogging after the outlaw. You grip his bicep in order to get him to face you. It’s not exactly a conversation you wanna yell out for everyone to hear. When he turns around, his eyes scan over you, as if he’s expecting an injury.

“I don’t have anythin’ to cover my face with.” You whisper, letting go of his arm, and letting your own fall to rest on your belt buckle. 

“And here I thought you was a bigshot outlaw, miss?” Arthur jokes, immediately placating you when your face falls into a scowl. You can’t hold your frown for long, as Arthur’s smile causes your own to slip free, but you still swat him on the chest for the blow. 

“I ain’t nothin’ of the sort, now give me somethin’, please.” 

He flips up the leather flap to his satchel, reaching in and pulling out a plain black neck slip. You’re about to take it from his hand, but instead he lifts it up, carefully removing your hat. His finger brushes against your cheek as he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, before he carefully slides the neckerchief mask down over your head. He straightens the cloth so that it rests between your collarbones before he gently places your hat back on your head. You blush, unsure of why it felt so intimate.

“W-what was that?” You ask, readjusting your hat a little as Arthur rests another cigarette between his lips. 

“Nothin, just gettin ya fixed up is all.” Arthur says, striking a match against the brick wall of the saloon before lighting his smoke. His relaxed eyebrows and inattentiveness to your shock prove that to him, that move was normal. You’re not used to being around gentlemen, let alone gentlemen that are also masked killers. It throws you for a loop, and you’re left reeling as he pushes the door open to the saloon. The glass swings back shut in your face. What in the hell has gotten into him? You settle your nerves for a few seconds before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

 The Blackwater Saloon, much like the rest of the town, resembles a wannabe city. The walls facing the road are made of glass, with gold printed words advertising the place, and the inside is fashioned with nice, sit-down tables and a room length bar. A few patrons sit around, some drunkards who are using the afternoon as an opportunity to get wasted, others who have stopped by for a decent meal. The poker table sits unused, chips lying around with no one to bet them, a shame, you think. You could make good use of those chips, outplaying every man in the bar, you’re sure. 

You find Arthur, once again, leaning on the bar, just like in Tumbleweed just a week or so ago. This time he has no drink in hand, instead he’s chatting with the bartender, discussing the rental of a room. You step around the round tables, spurs clicking against the wooden floor as you make your way next to him at the bar. 

“You got any real nice rooms? Big ones that someone might rent out for a week or so?” Arthur asks, subtly inquiring about Gavin Clifton’s whereabouts. Arthur doesn’t want to barge in on the wrong room, he needs to know exactly where Clifton is, and he’d be staying in a suite of course. Nothing but the best for a big oil man. 

The bartender, a tall, skinny feller with light blonde hair and a mustache the size of Texas, puts down a few glasses that he had been wiping down. The glass clinks against the freshly waxed wooden bar as he  puts them down, focusing on Arthur.

“Yeah, we got one. Real nice room, I’m afraid it's taken for the time being.” The bartender squints, eyeing Arthur up and down, focusing on the revolvers that hang from Arthur’s hips. Arthur is well dressed, and it's clear to anyone that he doesn’t work an honest job. The bartender gestures his hand at Arthur before picking up another wet glass and drying it down with his pearly white towel. 

“Well whatchu need it for? If you’re lookin’ to pay for a woman there’s other rooms. There’s a girl works here often, and damn she's got a fine way of-” ‘

The bartender’s nasty grin is cut off as you reach across the bar, grabbing the man by the collar and pushing his head down against the bar with a slam.

“Just shut the hell up and tell us which room it is.” You growl into the ear that's not smashed against the wood. The bartender raises his hands as much as he can in the position, whimpering for release from your small, yet mighty fists.

“Room two-B, now please, Miss!” The bartender cries, and immediately you release your grip. He springs back up with wide eyes, glancing between you and Arthur as he rubs at the new ache in his neck. He points a finger at Arthur, looking shocked and afraid. 

“Y-You better learn to control your wife mister!” The bartender yells. 

You’re surprised to watch as Arthur’s smirk falls into a deadly glare. It’s threatening, scary if you didn’t know him. He takes a step towards the bar, and the tender steps back. 

“You best watch your tongue, boy. I hear you talkin’ about any woman like that again I’ll put you in the ground.” Arthur growls. Even you are thrown off at this point. The bartender has the fear of god in his eyes as he nods coyly at Arthur. Gone is his earlier confidence and nonchalance, replaced by pure terror at Arthur’s threatening stance. 

Without another word, Arthur heads in the direction of the stairs. You’re once again left reeling and catching up to him.

“Hey, you okay?” You whisper, jogging up the steps behind him. 

“Yeah, just can’t stand fellers like that one. Goddamn fool.” He says, passing a few women for hire as he climbs the staircase with you. Trying to make light of the situation, you nudge Arthur with your elbow, chastising him lightly. 

“All these women here, I’m surprised you didn’t take his offer.” 

Arthur apparently doesn’t find your joke funny. He’s in such a sour mood today, and everything feels off as he turns a little to address you. 

“Just cause I run with a bunch of degenerates don’t mean I’m one too. I ain’t never bought a woman, never seen a woman as something to be bought.” Arthur hisses, irritated as he walks up the rest of the stairs without you. You sigh, shaking your head a little as you follow after him, leaving some distance between the two of you. 

As you reach the top, sliding your hand along the wooden railing that overlooks the bar down below, you pull your mask over your nose in time with Arthur. He approaches the door, labeled “2B” in fancy gold lettering.

“Mr. Clifton?” Arthur hollers, lightly knocking on the door. His other hand rests on the grip of his revolver, just in case. 

“Uh, yes? Is this about the mouse? Please I told them I’d pay extra if you’d get this vermin out of my room. I paid good money for this place and I will not tolerate rodents.” The accent that reaches your ears through the doors is one of European descent. A British man, you assume, come to make his fortune in the West. Well, it worked. He struck oil, as they say. Arthur turns and glances to you with a hilarious look on his face of confusion, on account of the mouse dilemma, you assume.

“Yeah, we’re here about the goddamn mouse, now open up.” Arthur says, patience clearly growing thin with the man. 

You can hear the room’s lock click before the door slowly opens, just a crack. Arthur pushes his hand against the wood, forcing the door open with a slam. 

“Gavin! Good to meet you. Now me, you and the lady, we’re just gonna have a little chat the rest of the evening. Just until about..” Arthur stops, pulling out his golden pocket watch, not the platinum that rests on your nightstand from Tumbleweed, “what do you say? Eight o clock? That sound good, mister?”

Arthur’s acting is on point, threatening the man without ever speaking a word of violence. From an outside perspective it sounds like he’s just talking to an old friend. It’s played up and sarcastic, but hell, it's effective. The room is big, with a large red comforted bed in the middle of the room. Opposite of the bed is a set of glass doors, now covered with curtains, but if pulled back there’s a balcony overlooking the docks. The room has a small counter with various expensive liquors and a yellow sofa with an ottoman.

Clifton is a short, chubby man with little glasses resting over his beady eyes. His outfit is expensive, and his hair, what's left of it, is neatly combed to the side. He stumbles back, completely flustered, confused and afraid. The backs of his knees hit the king sized bed that rests in the center of the room, and he sits in exasperation on the mattress. 

“I- I have someplace to be! I have to be at an auction in just thirty minutes! Listen, whatever you yokels want I can get you, but if you kill me, you’ll never escape the bounty hunters.”

Arthur chuckles at this, pulling his lasso out of his satchel and stretching the rope a little to check its tightness. You watch as he moves to the bed, tying Cliftons hands behind his back. 

“Well y’know, I’ve been running from bounty hunters my whole life and they ain’t got me yet. But don’t you worry, I ain’t gonna kill ya. Unless I have to… am I gonna have to? Mr. Clifton? Arthur asks, once again playing up his charisma for the benefit of the job. Clifton shakes his head rapidly, sweating in fear as he looks between you and Arthur. 

“No! No, you’re not going to-” 

Clifton thumps against the bed as Arthur knocks him out with the butt of his pistol. His arm is so fast, you barely noticed it until Clifton was knocked out cold. Arthur holsters his gun, and you can see as his charismatic facade falls away. Gone is the witty, threatening, sarcastic outlaw, and returned to you is Arthur. He turns to you slowly, pulling his mask down around his neck. 

“He ain’t wakin’ up for a bit. We can just wait here until Hosea gives us the go ahead. He’s gonna ride by when the auctions done, whistle up to the deck,” Arthur nods in the direction of the glass doors before walking over to it and opening it.. “I’ll leave one open so we can hear when he comes by, should be over just after dark. Once Cornwall has that property he’s gonna send us the money in the mail.”

You nod, glancing at Clifton’s unconscious body once more before sliding down the wall to rest on the wooden floor. After Arthur fixes the door, he comes over to your spot. He sits down against the wall beside you, careful not to poke you with his spurs as he does so. 

“Here.” 

Arthur pulls a little burlap sack out of his satchel and hands it out to you. Curiously, you peek inside of it. To your surprise, it's almonds, and you reach down into the sack to pull a few of the sweet nuts out. Arthur does the same, and for a few minutes you sit in silence, chewing on your snack and watching the waves on the lake through the open door. Watching the water piques your interest, and the question bubbles up before you’ve even thought about it. 

“When’s the ferry supposed to come anyways?” You say somewhat quietly, as if your voice could break the serenity of the afternoon. The sun is just beginning to dip below the lake, casting the town, and Arthur in a beautiful golden halo. You find yourself staring, wondering if it’s the golden light that is making Arthur look so handsome right now, or if it’s just him. With a blush, you shake the thought out of your head. Arthur brings his fist to his mouth, dropping a few almonds into it before answering your question. 

“About three days, I think. But ferries can be unpredictable. We’ve got one of our men, Javier, set up in a camp nearby watching for it. If he sees it, he comes and gets the rest.” Your eyebrows pull together as you try to recall Javier from camp, and you deduce that you haven’t met this particular man yet. Arthur’s demeanor shifts,  you see the slouch in his shoulders, and the downcast look of his face. Slowly, he brings his eyes up to yours. 

“You leavin’ before then?” Arthur asks almost sheepishly, as if he’s afraid of your answer. 

You look down at your feet, watching the golden light reflect on your spurs.You don't even have to think about it. Earlier, you’d already decided to stay, but you can feel your reasoning change. Leaving the gang would not only leave you on the streets, it would leave you without family, and as you look up to meet Arthur’s gaze, you realize that you can't lose them- you can't lose him.

You’re terrified by what it means, and you shove the emotion deep down to answer his question. 

“No… where would I go? You lot are all I have now. Jenny, Lenny, Abigail and the girls, John, Jack, you.”

Arthur brings his right knee up, digging his heel into the wood floor as he rests the back of his head against the wall. 

"You know what you're gettin' yourself into then…?" Arthur whispers. You chuckle a bit, thinking of the gang. So far from who you've met, they're some of the kindest folks you've ever known. 

"Arthur, I was a wanted woman long before I met you." You remind him. 

"I know, but it's- it's different. We're a target. And sometimes we gotta do things that-" Arthur pauses, thinking over his words for a moment, "I just don't want you gettin' mixed up with us and then regrettin' it." 

"Arthur, I won't regret it. Now if I went off on my own, gettin' taken advantage of and selling myself, instead of staying here with you lot? I'd regret that for the rest of my days."  You counter, watching the gentle lapping of water at the bank of the river, and the kids that are kicking a ball around the deck. It's not that Arthur wants you to leave, he wants you to stay but he knows this life. He knows the pain of loss and fear and grief that running with them will grant you. If you stay and plan on running with the men, you'll have to kill. There will come a time when it's someone else's life or yours and by god he can't have you out if you're not ready to make that decision. 

"The man you killed- why you're wanted. Tell me what happened." Arthur asks. At the mention you look down to your hands. 

"Well my momma was real sick, she died when I was about fifteen. And then it was just me and Pa." You chuckle lightly, "and my daddy, well he didn't know anything about teenage girls." 

Arthur laughs at the thought, surely you were a handful as a teenager. 

"And he tried, he tried so hard to raise me good, but after momma he just couldn't. He drank. God- Arthur he drank so much that if he weren't killed he would surely be dead by now." A few tears fall down your cheeks and you hastily wipe them away, not wanting to be seen crying. 

"And he spent all our money on liquor. Brandy was his preferred poison, but once he ran out of money he drank anything he could get his hands on. He was different. He was meaner and nasty, but deep down inside I knew he was just my daddy, and he was hurtin' just as much as I was." 

Arthur watches the few tears that drip down your nose, and his heart breaks for you. He knows the feeling all too well, unfortunately. 

"He started takin' out loans, and after the bank wouldn't give him any more he started goin' to loan sharks. Nasty men came by the house all the time, givin' and takin' money. They took all mommas jewelry, they took my things…" 

Arthur's full attention is on you as you toy with a wrinkle on your jeans, distracting your body from the turmoil in your mind. 

"And one day we had nothin' left to give. He gave it all away. And so this man came in, busted the door down and beat my Pa, right in front of me Arthur, like I wasn't even there to see. He wasn't movin' and I tried to get him up, I tried so hard, but he was gone." 

The tears flow freely down your cheeks, and you don't try to stop them this time, letting them silently trail down your face as you recall the nightmare of a time. 

"I knew how to track, and I took my daddy's gun that he had hidden away. I followed the man's horse, till I came up on a little camp that he must have just set up for one or two nights… and I- I killed him." 

Arthur doesn't move a muscle, fixating on the pain on your face and wishing that he could take it from you. But the hurt runs deep, it won't go away, not ever, and he knows from experience. 

"After it was done I found a note in his pocket… My daddy's debt was fifteen dollars. Just fifteen goddamn dollars for his life. I would have done anything to have had that money." 

Arthur leans over, and much to your surprise, he envelops you in a hug. You tense up for a second, unsure, but instinct takes over and you melt into his touch. His arms are strong around you, respectful of course, as Arthur is nothing short of a gentleman. And as you shed quiet tears into his shirt you let out a held in breath. You needed this. It's been far too long since you've been embraced by another. You wrap your arms around Arthur's torso, sniffling lightly. You feel so small in his arms, wholly covered and protected by him. You’ve been watching out for yourself for so long, it feels nice to have someone to watch your back.

"I'm real sorry, I know how this-"

Arthur stops and tenses at the sound of whistles. Carefully he lets you go, and rushes towards the open door, placing his back against the wall so that he can peek outside without being seen. You follow his lead, glancing out and gasping at the sight. A large ferry is pulling alongside the docks, huge and white with shimmering gold rails in the streetlights. You can make out a few silhouettes of people along the docks, and you wonder if Javier has already alerted the gang of its arrival. 

“Ferry’s here folks!” You hear a man call out from the dock, to which some claps and cheers sound out. The ferry is full of rich passengers, who’s pockets will soon be left empty thanks to the Van Der Linde Gang. 

“Arthur, what do we do? Are they down there?” You ask, anxiety causing your heart to beat quickly as you scan the dock in search of familiar faces. He is doing the same, and you glance over, not missing the worry on his face. When he feels your eyes on him he attempts to comfort you with a small smile.

“It’ll be just fine. They’ve got this.” He whispers, but you can see that it’s a facade, you know he’s worried.

You both watch out the door for a while, a few passengers have started to straggle off the boat, and then you hear the first gunshot. Gasps and shrieks of fear from the boat cause your stomach to turn, and your knuckles turn white from the tension. You need to do something. Your friends are down there and you have a bad feeling about the whole situation. A few moments after the warning shot is fired, lawmen’s whistles begin to go off, and you watch as men with shiny gold deputy stars on their chests run onto the docks. 

“Arthur I gotta go do something, we can’t just stay up here.” You plead, and he purses his lips as if greatly thinking over his options. 

Arthur kneels down against the door, staying out of the way of any wandering eyes from the street and dock down below. 

“Okay someone’s gotta warn Hosea. You know where the property is. Take Bo, she's faster than your buckskin. I'm gonna head back to camp and warn the others. They gotta start packin’, if this goes south we gotta get outta here fast.” He says, glancing to where Clifton is still knocked out on the bed. 

“And him?” You ask, gesturing to the oil man. 

“We leave him here, ropes ain’t tight he can get himself free when he wakes up. We got bigger 

problems right now. Let’s go.” 

With that he stands up, and moves to the door. You both rush down the steps, attempting not to look suspicious despite the rushed walk. The bar holds more patrons than it did earlier, and you can slip out easily enough by walking between the crowd of people. Arthur pushes the saloon door open ahead of you, holding it until you’re out before running to the hitching posts. 

“Keep your head down, ride fast, and be careful. Don’t get hurt, alright?” Arthur asks before jumping onto the Buckskin and spurring him towards camp. You watch the dust that the horse kicks up before moving your attention to the docks. There’s a few lawmen on the docks, guns aimed at the ferry. They haven't shot yet, not wanting to miss and kill the passengers who are being robbed inside.

You’re frozen in a state of shock, as a shot goes off from inside the boat, and the front half of the ferry explodes into a fury of flames. You gasp, stepping backwards towards Boadicea, who you should be on and far away with right now, but you can’t force your muscles to move. There's so much yelling coming from the boat, and fiery pieces of  debris fall down into the water, sizzling and steaming. Flames erupt over the front of the boat, along with fearful screams. The noise and sight of the explosion has spooked all of the horses nearby, and you watch as a few of the gang members' horses that were hitched on the dock run away. 

“Shit, Shit, Shit.” You curse, knowing that you have to help them. Hosea is safe where he is, but who knows how bad the explosion was? You glance to Boadicea, petting her neck lightly. 

“I'll be right back girl.” You promise before running towards the ferry. Your heart pounds in your ears as adrenaline pumps through your veins. There’s a handful of lawmen on the deck, and you sneak behind stacked crates to avoid them, pulling your revolver out of its holster just in case. In the windows of the ferry you see Dutch and Micah approaching the door, along with a man you presume to be Javier. 

“They’re coming out, shoot to kill! The detectives should be here soon!” One of the lawmen, presumably the sheriff yells, and you stumble backwards at his statement, head going dizzy from all of it. 

The detectives? 

Dutch bursts the ferry door open, guns raised as he fires. There's a saddle bag hanging off of his shoulders, stuffed to the brim with cash and gold. Your eyes boggle at the thought of how much must be in it. Three lawmen go down from his shots, giving you the opportunity to run to the boat. You break for it, ducking from the haze of bullets and heading straight for the edge of the dock. 

“We are getting out of here!” Dutch yells out, silencing a few more yelling lawmen with his guns. 

You run past Dutch, through the door of the ferry and gasp at the sight. Many of the passengers are dead, both from the explosion and the guns of the Van Der Lindes. Your jaw falls slack and you look up in disgust at a chuckling Micah. He also has a full saddlebag over his shoulder, and a sickening grin on his face. 

“Oh we’re just gettin’ started missy.” He chuckles, and you recoil at the sound. There’s a small group of passengers still in their seats, trembling in fear and ducking down. It makes you sick to see what they’ve done and for a moment you deeply regret coming back to help.

Javier follows Micah out of the door silently, and then you see Charles and Jenny, struggling with a body. Charles is groaning with pain, and you notice the bloody burn that covers his hand before you recognize the body he’s helping to carry.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, hands clasped over your mouth as they struggle to carry Davey out of the boat. 

“We need to get out of here, right now Dutch!” Charles growls, angry, challenging Dutch’s decisions. 

“Clearly!” Dutch yells, shooting down the last of the lawmen before making a run for the horses. You do the same, running to the saloon’s hitching post and grabbing Boadicea’s reins before jumping into the saddle. You grimace at the sound of Charles throwing Davey onto Micah’s horse. 

“Where’s Sean? Mac?” Javier calls out, jumping onto Boaz. 

“I don’t know, son, but we will come back for them.” Dutch hollers out. 

Just as you’re about to spur Arthur’s mare, you hear the sound of pounding hooves. It's like a war chant, the rumbling of hooves slamming down the roads towards town. The ground shakes with their power and you canter towards the other gang members, terrified. 

“They got the goddamn Pinkertons on us! Bastards!” Dutch practically screams, looking feral and as if any form of rationality has left him. You don’t even recognize him, and you try to ignore the blood that is staining his hands and once white shirt. You don’t know what happened on that ferry before you made it down, but it was something awful.

Everyone, including you, pulls out their weapons and starts firing. You watch a swarm of men in black suits gallop down the slope from the plains, brandishing carbines. 

“Look at me, we’ll be okay honey. You stick with me, alright?” Jenny calls to you, and you nod your head, leaning off of Bo for a moment to squeeze Jenny’s hand. When she releases, you pull your revolvers out and start firing at the swarm. 

Pinkertons fall, alongside their horses. Your stomach aches, your head is pounding from the adrenaline and the trauma. As everyone shoots, a hole opens up and you all spur your horses to break for camp. 

“Everyone get goin’ now! Leave none of them breathing!” Dutch screams over the shots. 

Shots continue to ring out as you push Boadicea past the church and towards home. You try not to think, kissing and begging the mare to keep running as you turn to take down as many Pinkertons as you can. You aim, taking down three men quickly. Their horses continue running, as if oblivious to their riders' deaths. 

Jenny is galloping her horse beside you, and she curses as she fires the last round from her revolver. 

“Goddamnit!” She yells, and you try to hold off the detectives as much as you can while she reloads. 

Another shot rings out, just like the hundreds that are being thrown across the plains, but this one doesn’t miss. Warm, crimson blood splatters across your face and you gasp, watching as Jenny’s limp body slides down to the ground off of her horse, 

“NO!” You shriek, sliding Boadicea into a stop and leaping down from her. 

“Jenny- no, no, no… you’re okay, you’re alright.” You coo, pushing your hands over the wound in her chest. Tears fall from your eyes, landing on her body that is growing colder by the second. She weakly grabs your hand, looking up to you with teary eyes while shaking her head in protest. Bullets are whizzing above your head as you lean over your friend, begging a higher power to stop this nightmare.

“Get back please- don’t… don’t stay out here. Please get back, please tell,” Jenny chokes on a sob, red coughing up from her lips, “Please tell Lenny how much I love him.”

You nod, tears dripping from your eyes as the shots quiet. The Pinkertons have all been killed, and the gang stands around on sweating, steaming horses in shock. Everyone’s eyes are on you and Jenny in horror. Jenny’s grip on your hand grows weaker by the second, until it slips away from your own entirely. Your breath hitches as you look up to find her eyes glassy and unmoving, her chest has stopped rising. Everything is still, and you sob, shaking her shoulders and begging her to get back up. Her long blonde hair falls around her head, turning crimson from the blood that is soaked onto your hands. It’s everywhere, everything, all you see is red.

“No… no, Jenny p-please, we have to go please get up. No- no, no!” You scream into the wretched night, leaning your forehead against her arm and crying. You don’t even care that the gang is watching, your only concern is your friend. The once giggling girl who’s carefree, bubbly attitude shone around her like a halo. She was good, and now she's gone.

“Oh not sweet Jenny too… Goddamnit! Put her on your horse, we have to go right now!” Dutch yells, and you look at him with pure hatred. This is his fault, and you hate him with a burning passion at the moment, but you know he’s right, you have to go.

“I can’t- I’m not-” You cry, and Javier notices, jumping down from Boaz. He picks up Jenny carefully, and your eyes follow after him as he puts her body on the back of his horse, like she's a bounty, or a damn hunted animal. Everyone begins galloping back, save for you and Charles. He’s noticed that you’re frozen in shock in the dirt, and he won’t leave you here. You’ve not seen much of him, but if Arthur trusts him, then so do you. You’re frozen on your knees, and Charles slides down from Taima, beckoning you to leave with him from a few feet away. Boadicea is still standing at your back, seemingly uneasy and afraid.  Her tail swishes, and her ears are pinned from fear and frustration, as if she wants to help you, wants to get you out of here.

“Hey, I know this is hard, but we need to get out of here, c’mon.” Charles insists, voice calm even in the chaos. You nod quietly, finally standing up and moving towards Boadicea. You pet her neck, wiping your tears before gripping onto the saddle horn. 

“O-okay” you whisper, numbly. 

A shot rips through the once quiet night, landing at your feet and you whip around to see one last Pinkerton hiding behind a lonely oak tree on the plain. 

“Shit!” You curse, pulling out your revolver and taking aim. He’s in a spot that’s hard to aim at. His position behind the tree is perfect for him to pop in and out, firing shots without taking any.

You squeeze the trigger and the bullet whizzes past his head. The finely dressed man pops out from the tree, quickly shooting his weapon. 

You gasp as a searing, burning pain shoots through your thigh. The force causes you to stumble backwards and fall onto your butt, and you grip at the shooting pain. Boadicea steps forward, putting her nose to the ground to nudge at you, as if checking if you’re alright. You cry out, pushing down on the wound to stop the blood that is gushing from it. Unbeknownst to you, the Pinkerton still has his sights on your head. Charles aims, shoots, and kills the Pinkerton…but he is a split second too late. 

A squeal reaches your ears, and a loud boom as Boadicea rears, and then falls to the ground at your side. 

“NO, no no. Please, not you too. No-” You sob, crawling over to her and ignoring the scorching, shredding pain in your thigh as you lean over the mare’s neck. 

You pet her, watching her eyes grow weary and her breaths get weaker. Her legs kick out lightly, of course she’s still putting up a fight, even in death. Her chestnut coat is turning dark with blood, seeping from her neck and pooling on the ground. Your hands are the same shade of crimson, alongside your shirt and pants. Whether it’s your own, Jenny’s or Bo’s, you’re not sure. You stroke her neck, pulling the bit out of her mouth and sliding her bridle off amidst broken, strangled sobs. You’ve lost too much today. Not her too. Charles steps over, revolver in hand with one last bullet in the gun’s barrel. You know what has to be done, but god, you can’t watch, and you're not strong enough to do it yourself.

Charles' hand rests on your shoulder, and you whimper, turning your head around and covering your ears to soften the shot that will surely ring out in a moment. You squint your eyes shut, anticipation running through your body and causing your hands to tremble and shake over your ears.

The last gun that is fired tonight doesn’t end the life of a lawman, or a pinkerton. No, the last shot that pierces the silent night ends the quiet suffering of Arthur’s beloved Boadicea. When you open your eyes, she’s gone, put out of her misery by Charles’ smoking gun. Tears fall down your cheeks silently, as Charles helps you to your feet. You cry out, grasping at your thigh. It's bleeding heavily and you put pressure on it as you walk. 

“Cmon, I'll put you on the back of Taima.” Charles whispers, calling the appaloosa over before picking you up by your waist and helping you onto the back of his horse. The  outlaw mutters apologies as you grimace in pain. 

The ride is silent, save for Taima’s hooves and your groans of pain as the galloping pulls at your gunshot wound uncomfortably. The reality of what’s just happened settles, but you can’t seem to rid yourself of the shock. In a way you’re grateful for it. The adrenaline makes the shot through your leg bearable, and keeps all the emotions you’re going to deal with at bay for now. You glance down to your left thigh, scowling as you get a good look at it for the first time. The wound is big and messy, the bastard shot you with a goddamn rifle. 

You don’t even realize you’ve made it back to camp, mind still reeling with horrendous memories from the night. Some of the adrenaline has worn off and your thigh throbs in pain. It has bled down your leg, soaking your sock and boot in the sticky red liquid, along with Taima’s back leg. It hits you that you’re back when Charles dismounts. A flurry of people are rushing around camp, tearing apart what used to be your home. Tents are packed into wagons, but crates and pelts and belongings lie abandoned in the dirt. Your eyes follow the things that are being left behind. Jack's books, people’s pictures, clothes, your watch from Arthur in Tumbleweed, they all remain abandoned as everyone files into wagons and onto horses. Charles helps you down off of Taima, and you cry in pain when your feet hit the ground, sending a white hot stab of pain through your leg.

“Charles?!” A voice calls out- a familiar one. You see Arthur, dismounting your buckskin a few feet away. He looks panicked, probably on account of the blood that has soaked through all of your clothes. Unbeknownst to him, most of it isn’t yours. 

“What happened?! Shit- are you alright?” Arthur runs over, gently placing his hands on your arms and scanning over your body.  You can’t bring yourself to nod, to lie. 

“No…” You choke on a cry as Arthur envelops you in the tightest hug you’ve ever been held in. Just for a moment, when his arms are wrapped around you, everything is okay. It’s over far too quickly, as someone across camp calls out to him for help. 

“Hosea, I-” You whisper, remembering your original task. It hits you like a wall of bricks, you were supposed to warn him and you failed. Arthur nods, glancing down to your thigh. 

“Don’t worry, I know. We got him. When you weren’t back I sent Uncle after him, he’s good for somethin’ at least.” Arthur says, glancing back to Grimshaw who is yelling after him. 

“Now, look at me. We gotta go right now. You’re strong, I know you are. I need you to hold on to that strength just a little longer for me, okay?” you nod, bloodshot, teary eyes glancing up to lock onto Arthurs, “I'm gonna put you up in the wagon with the girls. They’ll get your leg fixed up in no time, here.” Arthur pulls his dark neckerchief from earlier over his head, and kneels into the mud. 

“This is gonna hurt, I'm sorry but I gotta make it tight.” He says, wrapping the cloth around your thigh, careful not to touch you other than where he needs to. He ties the cloth just above your wound, pulling the neckerchief tight. You grip onto his strong shoulder, digging your nails into his shirt as the tight knot pulls uncomfortably at the wound. You groan at the pain, trying to push it away. 

Once Arthur deems the makeshift tourniquet tight enough, he stands back up, ushering you towards the wagon. The girls are already inside. All but one… Abigail, Tilly, Marybeth and Karen are all huddling together, whispering to Jack who is crying into his little fists. His cheeks are red and raw from the salty tears that have traced down his puffy cheeks. 

“Johns gone to scout ahead and clear the roads, took Micah with him” Abigail explains.

There’s no time for further explanation as Arthur’s hands grip onto your waist, carefully hoisting you up into the wooden wagon. He apologizes as you wince, settling you down before glancing behind him, as if looking for something. 

Oh…

“Where…where’s Boadicea?” Arthur asks, looking to you like he already knows the answer but is just hoping for a different one. 

Your face crumples into tears yet again, and you wipe them away while trying to look Arthur in the eyes. 

“She didn’t-” you shake your head, “She didn’t make it. Arthur, I'm so sorry.” You hiccup. 

A pain, old and deep, flashes across Arthur’s face for a moment as he bows his head, jaw clenched in pain as he hides the emotion behind his hat. He nods, fighting back something deep within himself before growling a bit, deep in his chest. 

“Did she-” Arthur gestures towards Blackwater with his hand, and you don’t miss the tears that have welled in his eyes, although he refuses to let them fall, “She suffer?” He asks, looking up at you with an emotion so raw, that it has you crying. You shake your head, knowing that she didn’t. Charles stopped that from happening and you’re grateful that he was there.

Arthur nods, pushing down the emotion like he always does. He attempts to comfort you with a small smile, but it is broken and painful. 

“You need anything’, anythin’ at all, have someone come and get me, okay?” Arthur whispers, before turning to head back towards Charles. 

You scooch yourself back against the wood grain of the wagon, wishing that you could fall into the earth and be swallowed whole. Your typical hellfire attitude has been broken today, beaten down by the traumas that you’ve been handed. It will come back, and you’ll be okay. But now? You’re not. 

Abigail leans over towards you, letting go of Jack with one arm to wrap it around you. You lean into her touch, closing your eyes as Tilly and Mrs. Grimshaw gather around you with Strauss’ medical kit. 

They pull and prod at your leg, forcing the bullet out and sewing the flesh back together. When they dig the bullet out with sharp metal tongs, ripping and tearing through your skin, you cry out, screaming for all of the Van Der Linde gang to hear as they start the journey north. But no one complains. It’s preferable to the deafening silence.

The pain you feel is nothing compared to the constant ache of loss as you numbly stare at Jenny’s body that had been stacked on top of Davey’s in front of you for the trip north. They’ve been covered with a white sheet, but the all too familiar crimson has soaked through the material, staining it and forever ruining its purity.

It’s much like the blood that has soaked into your clothes, splattered across your skin. You could scrub it away for hours on end, but it will never really be gone. Not in the way you want it to. The memories from today are burned into your mind, like a sickening brand that you’ll carry with you for years.  

Now, sitting in the back of the rocking wagon, stained with blood and tears, surrounded by the soft cries of your friends, the bodies of friends, you know why you’ve put up your walls. When Arthur rides past to check up on you, and the horse under him is a spotted appaloosa instead of the familiar, warm chestnut mare, you know why you haven’t allowed yourself the comfort of a family… because good people die.

[lynlyndoll]

𝔚𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔡𝔦𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡𝔰

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: possibly fluff?, frustration, drinking, kissing

𝔴𝔠: 0.4k

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: angel! felix x demon! reader

𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰: hell and heaven are mentioned, so, if you are sensible at them, I'm sorry!! the opposite of a guardian angel is a demon, so yeah.

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You've always admired from afar your co-worker, the beautiful guardian-angel. But what if he liked you as well?

𝔞𝔫: hi, guys! I'm sorry 4 posting this today, BUT i had (and still have) many tests this week. however, tmrw is the last day i have tests and then i go in a trip w my bestfriends, so I'll have plenty of time to post. The thing is that I will indeed have delayed posts as this one, especially the Han one. So please be patient! Thank you!!💕😚

Life is unfair, you did admit it. How come the prettiest boy you ever saw was on the other world? Why were you even into him, afterall? His stupid face with his stupid freckles, his stupid deep voice and that body.. his stupid cute personality that you always adored. You never intended to fall in love with him, especially because of the different worlds that you came from, but also for the fact that your relationship was purely for a collaboration of supervising your assigned human.

Your human was pretty good, a kind person who rarely broke the rules. However, once in a while, Felix saw how bored you got, so he let you influence the human with whatever you wanted.

Tonight, after the 4th drink you had while supervising your human's 20th birthday at a bar, you sigh.

"Y/n? You okay, little devil?" Felix looks at you. You sigh and look at him, his eyes fixed on your face.

"Yeah, it's just that.. we never have fun." You look then at your human, who dances with her friends.

"But we have each other." He smiles, taking your hand in his.

"Not enough. We are from different worlds, Felix." You sigh, taking your hand off his. "We are not supposed to be friends or anything else."

"Anything else...?" He asks.

"Forget that, sorry."

"No, no, no. I mean... I don’t want to forget it. If-" He bites his lip. "If you want to be something else, I want it too." He nervously says, checking his pulse for a few seconds - one of his nervous acts - which you find adorable. Your eyes go wide. Maybe it's just from the drinks you both had, you didn't want him to say something like that, knowing that it could pay both of you. "Plus... aren't demons supposed to break the rules?" He laughs it off.

"Yeah, but..." You breath, only realizing now that his face was way closer than it was.

"But...?" He asks, his eyes focusing either on your eyes, either on your lips. "Please, Y/N..." He whimpered only for you to hear, your mind foggy from both the informations you got and the drink. So you kiss him. And he kisses back.

You really shouldn't be doing this, you know it. No demon should fall in love with a guardian angel. He knows it too. He knows that it's probably going ti cost bith of you your jobs in Heaven and Hell, but as long as you could be together, you had to fight for it. That's a thing both of you knew and were ready to fight for.

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱:

@agi-ppangx @lisaaassophhhieee @hyunjin-lover20 @deadgirlwalking3 @kittymaryam

[avanatural]

That Simple

Part 5

Series summary: Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new Sheriff gonna get the date that he’s hoping for?  

Pairing: Beau Arlen x female Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 2.7k

Chapter warnings: Nudity, mentions of sex

A/N: Welcome to part 5! I hope you enjoy! Wanna be on my Beau tag list? Send me an ask ❤️

Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Beau Arlen Masterlist | Part 6

Main Masterlist

His chest rose and fell with steady breaths. His body was covered by warm sheets, his head resting on a soft pillow. An invisible curtain of ease and safety was floating around him, shielding his body from the troubles of the outside world. With his eyes still closed, he smacked his lips together. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable in his own bed.

Then, suddenly, the mattress moved. Instantly, one of Beau’s mossy green eyes squinted open. One glance to the side, and he spotted Y/N next to him, curled into a little ball of limbs and bedsheets.

Last night’s memories came back to life in his head. With grinning lips, he fully opened both of his eyes. He wasn’t resting on his own mattress. Y/N was sharing hers with him. Beau squirmed closer to her, crossing the invisible line to her side of the bed.

His girlfriend felt the vibrations of his movements. The smile reached her face before her eyes were even fully open. Gladly, she let her partner pull her into his strong arms. His bare skin radiated heat, engulfing her in a cocoon made of tenderness.

“Mhh,” she hummed, creeping further into his embrace to escape the cold morning air that came pouring inside through the window, “Good morning.”

“Mornin’, beautiful.” He cradled her to his body, rubbing his large hands up and down her back, making her rock softly in his arms. “Sleep well?”

“I haven’t slept that well in ages,” she confessed. Her words were followed by a quiet yawn. “You?”

Puckering his lips, he pecked her temple. “Me neither,” he muttered, his voice still raspy.

A short, high-pitched sound echoed through the bedroom. Y/N had put her phone on silent the night before, so she knew it had to be Beau’s.

He pointedly ignored the fact that he’d received a text message. His deep green orbs observed his girlfriend, roaming every single angelic feature of hers. To him, she was the true definition of a saint. She was generous, humble, and kindhearted. In her presence, he felt nothing but cherished. How had he gotten so lucky?

With an absentminded smile, Y/N ghosted her fingertips along his chest. Beau was all muscle, strength, and freckled skin. On the outside, he was a guardian of the law, a bit of a goofball, and a male model. On the inside, he was filled to the brim with love. How had she gotten so lucky?

His phone dinged again. Y/N saw his gaze flicker to the side for a second, but once again, he seemingly decided against taking a look.

Her fingers continued their wanton journey across his chest, moving slowly from his firm pecs to his soft stomach. When she reached the happy trail leading into his jeans, he held his breath for a second.

“Y/N,” his husky voice ripped her out of her trance.

She peered up at his face, and was met with a look of pure adoration.

Beau’s fingers grasped her chin, his thumb shamelessly grazing her bottom lip. Tilting her head towards him, he pressed his mouth to hers. His hand snaked to the hallow of her throat, his grip gentle yet demanding.

With their lips sealed in a sensual kiss, Y/N’s fingertips wandered south. They brushed against the bulge in his jeans, and she felt him shudder against her. Would he shiver the same way if she made him come? Would he moan, grunt, or even cry out? The anticipation was killing her.

Much to their dismay, the two of them were interrupted by his phone making yet another dinging sound.

Beau froze against Y/N’s tempting lips. Begrudgingly, he pulled away and met her gaze. He shortly shut his eyes with annoyance. “This can’t be for real.”

Chasing his touch, she leaned forward to nuzzle his jaw with her nose. “You’re the Sheriff,” she stated, basking in the heat he was radiating, “This town can’t go without you.”

“Not even one goddamn mornin’?” Sometimes, he felt like he was biting off more than he could chew. Y/N was the only cure he currently had for his self-doubts.

“I’m afraid not, baby,” she muttered, wanting nothing more than to selfishly keep him by her side. But when you dated the Sheriff, you agreed to share him with your hometown.

With a grumpy little frown on his face, Beau tore himself away from his girl and reached for his phone on the floor. As he held the device to his face, his gaze skipped back and forth across the lines on the screen. “Hoyt wants me to meet her in the office. Says she’s got a lead.”

Y/N sat up against the headboard. “That’s good, isn’t it?”  

“Technically.” The scowl stuck to his face. All he wanted was to stay in Y/N’s bed and savor being in her loving presence. He glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. With one theatrical dive backwards, he let himself drop on the mattress. “It’s too early to be dealin’ with criminals.”

The creases around Y/N’s eyes deepened playfully. “And here I was, thinking Beau Arlen was a morning person.”

He wriggled closer to her and shifted on the bed so that he could place his head in her lap. His beautiful emerald orbs blinked up at her through his long eyelashes. “I’m a let’s-make-out-in-the-morning person. Not a let’s-solve-a-murder-before-breakfast person. Meanin’ I don’t wanna leave this bed till you kick me out.”

Y/N enjoyed the weight of his head on her thighs. She ran her fingers through his disheveled hair, gently caressing his scalp. “Well, I kinda have to kick you out now. What type of citizen would I be to take the Sheriff away from my fellow townspeople?”, she inquired, knowing that her dutiful boyfriend probably wouldn’t need much more convincing.

“Ugh, alright,” Beau groaned and reluctantly rolled off of her, away from her caring touch, “Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Sure. Just look through the cabinet and grab any products you need.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He smiled a breathtaking smile and got up from the bed, giving Y/N a spectacular show of the flexing muscles in his broad back.

She brushed back her unkempt hair to give herself a better view of his toned body. “You mind if I take a shower while you’re in there?”, she asked.

His brows rose up as he grabbed his shirt. “Uh, no. Go ahead.”

When Y/N stepped into the bathroom a few minutes later, Beau was standing by the sink. He’d found her pack of toothbrushes in the cabinet and was currently brushing his teeth. He acknowledged her with a little smile in the mirror.

A deep sense of contentment filled her heart. She could get used to shared mornings with her partner. His presence put her at ease, and at the same time, it drove her wild, making her feel alive. She couldn’t wait to move forward with their relationship.

As he kept brushing his teeth, Y/N walked over to the shower and pulled her tank top over her head.

Beau’s curious green eyes darted to that one spot in the mirror where her bare back was visible. Soon after, the same eyes looked away, finding shy interest in the white sink before them.

As soon as Y/N was naked, she stepped into her open shower. She turned on the water, separated from her boyfriend by nothing other than a thin wall made of glass.

Hot water soon cascaded down her body, relaxing her muscles, making her release a low hum.

What she didn’t notice was the way Beau’s Adam’s apple bopped in his throat. Unbeknownst to Y/N, that little moan of hers made him want to drag her out of the shower and toss her on the bed. He quickly spat out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, willing himself to behave.

What Y/N did notice, though, was that he didn’t spare her a single glance. Almost as if he was trying really hard not to take a peek. Then, realization hit her that, despite already having used his oral skills on her, he still hadn’t seen her fully naked.

Her heart throbbed in her chest as she realized he was being respectful of potential boundaries. Now, it was on her to let him know that he didn’t have to be a full-time gentleman around her.

After taking a breath, Y/N stepped out from behind the glass wall. Her heart sped up as she pushed out her hip and placed a hand on her waist. “Beau,” she caught his attention while putting herself on display for him.

He reacted with a fleeting sideways glance. “Hm?”

“You can look at my body, you know.”

His head tilted slowly, until his stunned gaze met hers.

“Actually…,” she continued, studying his reaction closely, “I want you to.”

Was he dreaming? Beau just blinked at her a few times, glued to the spot, dumbfounded.  

Then, finally, after searching her eyes, his gaze started to wander, moving from her feet all the way up to her face. He took his sweet time enjoying the sight of her legs, her pubic mound, the swell of her hips, her stomach, the droplets of water that ran down between her breasts.

Y/N’s lower lip disappeared between her teeth. She held her breath as he examined her bare body. Her hopes were soaring. Did he like what he saw?

A wholehearted sigh escaped him, visibly letting his chest rise and collapse. “You want me to be late, is that it?” His eyes became hooded, and a smirk stretched across his lips. “You’re plannin’ to overwhelm me with all that sex appeal.”

An enamored chuckle lit up her face. Her insides were buzzing, making her feel like she was falling in love for the very first time. “Well… You’re more than welcome to join me.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, tossing his head back, “Don’t give me naughty ideas right now, darlin’.”

Y/N smiled and briefly glanced at the floor before looking at Beau’s face again. “Next time?”

“Oh, you better count on it.”

Very pleased with his determined reaction, Y/N sent a wink his way and went back to taking her shower.  

This time, he didn’t keep himself from stealing glances at her through the glass wall. In fact, he could hardly contain himself, sending her approving looks and smoldering smirks. Her raw beauty was a sight to behold, and he was now granted permission to freely savor it in all its glory. He could definitely get used to mornings with Y/N.

Y/N pulled open the front door for him. A cool breeze hit her wet hair, making her shiver slightly. “Promise me you’ll get some proper breakfast on the way.”

Beau stepped up to the door and swallowed his last bite of the granola bar that she’d shoved in his hand. “Yes, mom.” As soon as she narrowed her eyes at him, he lifted his hands, and swore, “I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. She didn’t want to part ways with him yet, but luckily, they’d already planned their next date. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, about that…” He shifted on his feet and rubbed his palms together. A spark of nervousness rippled through him, making his mouth feel dry. “Emily’s comin’ over tomorrow.”

“That’s great!”, she exclaimed instantly. She knew how much he longed to spend more time with his daughter, and Y/N never wanted to get in the way of that.

He caught his plump bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it for a second, subtly nodding his head. “Do you…” He paused and extended his hands, gesturing towards Y/N. “Any chance you wanna… Ya know, meet her?”

She felt like her jaw was about to hit the floor. Since they’d agreed to take things slow, she hadn’t expected this kind of offer from him anytime soon. “Wh- Meet Emily?”

He rocked back and forth on his boots, tilting his head ‘yes.’

“I… Are you sure?” Y/N couldn’t hold back the surprised tone in her voice. “I mean, is she gonna be okay with that?”

“Actually… She suggested it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently…” Beau’s anxious fingers scratched the back of his neck. “I talk about you a lot.”

Y/N’s soul was floating. Ready for takeoff, we’re headed straight to cloud nine. “I would love to meet her,” she said with a delighted smile on her lips.

As her response entered his ears, a wave of relief washed over him. He’d been terrified of being too straightforward, of moving too fast for Y/N’s liking. The last thing he’d wanted was to scare her off by reading her boundaries wrong. “That simple?”, he inquired.

“That simple.” Her shoulders twitched casually, but her Y/E/C orbs were shining with a cheerful glimmer. “Just text me the time and I’ll be there.”

“Awesome.”

The couple grinned at each other for a few moments, glowing with joy like two beacons of light.

Beau’s feet carried him close to her, so close that their bodies pressed together. He took a hold of her waist, letting his touch travel under her shirt. His fingers sank into the smooth skin that was hidden there. He leaned down, prompting his girlfriend to lean up.

Y/N circled her arms around his neck and puckered her mouth against his. His soft-lipped kisses never failed to take her breath away. The taste of his tongue made all her thoughts go quiet, made her revel in the passion that she felt for him. She wanted more, wanted all of him, but sadly duty was calling her charming Texan.

Beau hummed into her mouth and broke away from her. He had to end their kiss, otherwise he was pretty sure he would never make it to the station. He stroked a hand through her damp hair and pecked her forehead.

Just then, Beau’s cab arrived in Y/N’s driveway. Actually, it was deputy Poppernak, saving his boss the trouble of having to get his own car on foot.

“Alright, gotta go,” Beau said, “Hoyt’s gonna kill me if I don’t show up at the station soon.”

“Take care, okay?”

“Always.” After squeezing Y/N’s shoulder, he crossed the threshold and walked outside. “I’ll call you later.”

She watched as his bowlegs trudged down her porch steps. Her feet felt like they were barely touching the ground. She was going to meet her partner’s daughter! Immersed in her thoughts, Y/N zoned out. Should she bring a gift for Emily? What was she supposed to wear? What kind of small talk did teenagers engage in these days?

She didn’t even notice that Beau slowed down and turned back around to look at her. “Oh, and Y/N?”, he called out.

At the sound of his voice, she picked her gaze up from the floor. “Yeah?”

His pink tongue snuck between his perfect teeth as he grinned at her. The tiny dimples in his cheeks deepened gleefully. “I love you, too.”

“Wh-“ Y/N’s consciousness said goodbye for a second, making it hard for her to process his words. Her eyes went wide when she realized he must have caught her confession from the previous night. “You heard that?”

“I sure did.” He smirked and proudly nodded his head. When Y/N had whispered to him that she loved him, he almost hadn’t believed it. A woman like her falling for a guy like him? It almost felt like a dream, too good to be true. But judging by the way she behaved around him, how much affection she provided him with, he owed it to her and to himself to accept the truth. “Music to my ears, darlin.”

Beau’s grin faded a little when his phone started to ring in his pocket. He pulled it out, and sure enough, Jenny’s name lined his screen in angry bold letters. With one last wink in his girlfriend’s direction, he picked up. “Hoyt… Yeah, I… Would you let me explain?”

As he bickered with his colleague on the way to the car, Y/N remained in the doorway, blushing to herself. Her cheeks felt flaming hot despite the cold air that surrounded her.

When the car drove by with both Beau and Poppernak waving at her, she waved back with a smile. Aside from her rosy cheeks, she looked rather calm on the outside. But on the inside, her spirits were flying high.

Beau Arlen loved her.

Part 6

Tag list: @spnwoman​ @waynes-multiverse​ @akshi8278​ @aria725 @deansbbyx @mrsjenniferwinchester @waywardnerd67 @nt-multi-fandom​ @may85 

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Someone Who Doesn’t Want To Be Saved

Author: RedCraneFalling

Artist: Callion

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/ Dean Winchester, minor Andrea Howl/ Sam Winchester

Length: 49000

Warnings: Temporary Major Character Death, Child Abuse, Implied/ Referenced Underage Prostitution, Canon Typical Violence, Homophobia/ Parental Homophobia, One use of the F slur

Tags: Childhood Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, Wing Fic, Grace-Soul Bonds, Loss of Virginity, AU - Canon Divergence, Parental Guardian Gabriel, !Kid Sam

Posting Date: October 2, 2023

Summary: A child shall be born of twice-tainted blood, the eldest of two and the two soldiers’ son. A saint’s soul emerges, yet a hunter is made. Born martyr from love, built killer by pain. On his hundredth season, the lock he will break, as Mother kills Child for her Father’s sake.  All God’s angels shall perish by creatures of ol’ ‘less a Seraph gone wayward does hopelessly fall Fledgling angel, Castiel gets in an accident shortly before his seventh birthday, and quite literally falls out of the sky and into Dean’s lap. The two quickly become close, but both of their families are hiding dark secrets. Dean’s in the form of an absent father who seems to drain all happiness from his two children whenever he’s around, and Castiel’s in the form of a prophecy which unites the two boys, but may ultimately tear them apart.

Excerpt: Dean starts climbing and Castiel waits for him to be about halfway up before he flaps his wings twice and jumps to the branch. “Hey no fair!” Dean calls after him, “I forgot you could fly. Flying is cheating.” “You didn’t specify no flying when you made the rules,” Castiel calls back laughing from his perch on the branch.  Castiel watches Dean climb the rest of the way up, his muscles stretching and coiling under the skin of his arms. He’s strong and lithe, graceful and sure of his movements in a way that Castiel can only imitate in flight. On the ground, the calculated angular movements of an Angel make him look robotic in comparison. He is unnatural where Dean is at home, as a true son of the Earth. And God took clay from Earth’s four corners and gave it the breath of life. Man is better than angel. Created for more than just the divine. Their perfect imperfections leave room for beauty. When Dean gets up to the branch he’s huffing with exertion. There’s sweat on his brow where his hair sticks to his forehead, and his cheeks are bright red around his freckles. The flush brings out the green in his eyes.  “Cheater,” Dean accuses when he sees Castiel’s cocky grin. He reaches out and gives Castiel a light shove.  Castiel moves exaggeratedly with the shove, and falls sideways off the tree branch.  “Cas!” Dean yells in alarm before he realizes that Castiel is simply floating in the air slightly under the branch with one leg still hooked over it. “Gonna give me a heart attack,.” Dean grumbles.  Castiel laughs and uses his wings to right himself so he’s sitting on the branch again. He straddles it, facing Dean.  “Would you like to race back down?” he says with a cheeky grin.  “No,” Dean pouts, crossing his arms “You’d probably just jump, Mister I-Can-Survive-a-Tornado.” Castiel laughs boisterously, and it seems his laugh is contagious because Dean starts laughing as well. They both smile, looking at each other. The sun dapples Dean’s skin with patches of light through the leaves.  Castiel walks with the brothers back to the nearby motel they’re staying at. Dean is in an uncharacteristically carefree mood, skipping and chattering on like the first time Castiel met him. When they reach the motel, Dean’s face falls as he looks at a big black car parked outside their room. He picks up Sam and turns towards Cas frowning.  “You gotta go home now, Cas, but we can watch Scooby Doo another day, okay?” he says. Castiel is confused but agrees and flies away.  The next time he sees the Winchester brothers, Dean has a black eye. He won’t tell Castiel where it’s from.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[ink-flavored]

for pride and justice: 3, 4, 16, 19

thank you!! yay i get to talk about Them <3

3. What were their first impressions of each other? How does that compare to their impressions of each other now?

Justice's first impression of Pride was "oh no a demon is trying to get through the gates, I have to stop him!" and Pride's first impression of Justice was "oh fuck i'm getting chased by an angel that's not good!" So. They had an interesting meet-cute.

They go from that to "annoyed but stuck together because they're on the run" to "begrudging respect that I will not admit is care" on Pride's end and "genuine desire to understand" on Justice's end, all the way to "gay love ride or die forever."

4. How would they describe each other if asked? Physically? In personality?

Pride, about Justice: "Tall. Obnoxiously tall. Long hair. And the rest of him is like... cherub-face. Not, like, baby face, but you know. Round. Soft. The smiley approachable type. Absolutely no edge, except when he's swinging the sword around. And he does it in the living room, which is probably the worst idea he's had since chasing me down to Earth. Although I guess I get a bit of a show, with the whole swordsman's body thing, so it's not totally annoying. And he's got freckles everywhere...

Anyway. Uh, he's nice! Kind of too nice, if you ask me. He doesn't know when to quit it with that shit, you let him do one nice thing and it's like he can't stop. I can't even count how many times we've had to stop in the middle of the street to let him fix some rando's problem. Even the other angels got sick of him, which... would be funnier if it wasn't my fault, I guess. Don't tell him I said that.

Justice tries way too hard. He can't stop trying too hard. It's kinda scary? I don't really give a shit if he wants to spend all his free time playing guardian angel, but you start to feel bad for the guy. It's like he can't turn off the little voice that tells him Big G is gonna be soooo mad if he doesn't meet his Virtue Quota. It makes being a demon seem like the better option.

I don't know. He needs to get a little more selfish. Prideful, even. Don't tell him I said that either."

Justice, about Pride: "Pride is colorful, in language and mannerisms. He always wears the flashiest thing he can find, I honestly can't tell if he's going to the store or going to a bar with his friends most days. It's... a lot, but also wonderful in it's own way. I don't think there are a lot of people who are even half that confident about their style as he is. I like his piercings, too, they really suit him. And the goatee, messy hair—he's very rough around the edges, and I think it's on purpose that he looks the part.

I wish we got along better, honestly. I think—I know he's been hurt a lot in his life, so I don't blame him for being distant with me. We're from completely opposite worlds, after all. I just hope he isn't so driven by his pain that he thinks he can't heal from it.

Pride is so angry, and it really breaks my heart sometimes. I don't want to say that to him, because I know he'll take it the wrong way, but it's just how I feel. It's awful that he's had to go through so much alone. He doesn't ask for help because he thinks can't trust anybody but himself.

I wish he would trust me. Again, I don't know how to say that without coming off like I pity him. I just want him to be okay. I'm not sure if he knows I can feel his pain, but... I want to help make it stop."

16. Is one of them keeping secrets from the other? Why? How would they react if the secret was revealed?

For a long time, Pride was keeping the secret that he'd literally die if his demon contract couldn't be fulfilled. At first, it was because he didn't want an angel to know his one fatal weakness, but the longer it went the more he just... didn't want to think about it. "I will ignore the problem and then it'll go away," type. He didn't want to ruin this perfect never-before-experienced love by reminding himself and admitting to Justice how much danger he's truly in. He eventually reveals it himself, but if it had been discovered early he would have panicked and tried to flee the situation (he would fail)

Justice's secret is that he used to be very emo teenager (or the angel equivalent of a teenager anyway). He's keeping this secret because it's so so embarrassing. When Kindness reveals this secret to Pride behind his back the first thing he does is crumble into a pile of dust.

19. Are they satisfied with their relationship? Do they wish they were closer/more distant?

For a long time, Pride fought the idea that he even wanted to be friends with Justice. He didn't want to admit he wanted an angel to like him, it felt like debasing himself. At the same time, he had so many feelings about Justice that would not let him be normal. When they get together, the only thing Pride wants is for them to be physically attached at the hip so he can have attention whenever he wants.

Justice was far more able to accept how he felt about Pride, but kept it to himself because he thought Pride wouldn't want him that way. He did secretly yearn for a deeper friendship, if nothing else, because he could tell there was more to Pride than what he saw on the surface. When it turns out Pride wants him back, he is more than happy to spend every day of the rest of his life at his side. So they're both pretty satisfied with that!

[send me a couple ask]

[gamerkitten]

Reunion

He had to be dead. 

Maybe he had caught a bullet from a lucky merc and this was his brain tormenting him in his last moments.

"Shepard?" 

"Garrus, is that you?"

She looked the same. Same dark hair, piled atop her head in a bun; sweat pasting escaped tendrils to her face. Her eyes were the same shade of amber, her face marred by a few scars but still sprinkled with freckles a slightly darker shade of brown then the rest of her skin.

But she was dead.

The message reaches him at home, on Palaven, his omni-tool beeping frantically. Seeing it's from Joker, he ignores it with a mental reminder to reply later. Right now, he's in the middle of cleaning his rifle.

"Garrus!"

His sister, Solana comes rushing into his room and he knows that something is wrong.

"Sol, what is it," he rises, leaning the gun against the wall, "is it mom?"

"Garrus," her voice is steady but her sub-vocals tell him she's anything but," Garrus, I'm so sorry-"

"What is it?" He snaps

Wordlessly, she crosses the room and switches on the television. The news is on and in the corner is a photo of...

"Shepard."

He struggles to make sense of what he's seeing, what he's hearing.

"It is a dark day for the galaxy," the news anchor says mournfully, " the Normandy has been destroyed with multiple casualties, including Commander Cassia Shepard, who defeated the rogue specter Saren Arcturis on the Citadel 1 month past."

The world falls away and he nearly falls with it, legs buckling beneath him only to be caught by his sister and led to his desk where he is lowered into his chair.

"Garrus-"

"I-I'm fine Sol," he hears himself say, "I just need to be alone."

"Are you sure-"

"Out."

It comes out as a growl and she takes the warning and leaves. Once she's gone, he flings a datapad across the room, tears blurring his vision.

He had just talked to her, what, two weeks ago? 

And now she was gone. He felt cold, numb. This couldn't be happening.

Tapping at his omni-tool, he pulled up Joker's message.

"Garrus, I- fuck," Joker's voice comes through, raw and ragged with greif, " I didn't want you to find out through the news. Shepard's gone. She- she got spaced when the Normandy was attacked. She saved me and- fuck man, I'm sorry."

He couldn't say what exactly happened in the weeks following that message, most of it was blurred by the wonderful amnesiac qualities of Turian brandy. Eventually that wasn't enough. He couldn't stand it, the way Sol constantly checked up on him; seeing the face of his best friend on every tv screen, knowing that he would never see her again. Never...

He returns to the Citadel and C-sec, but it isn't the same. How could it be?

The red tape that merely annoyed him before now adds to a slowly simmering rage. 

He tries, spirits, does he try. 

He tries to push against the official line that the war is over with the defeat of the Geth and Sovereign, tries to do good, tries to do his Commander proud.

Something in him snaps.

The catalyst is a smuggler, bringing red sand and spirits knows what else onto the Citadel. Red tape, too much for him to bypass, stops him from getting to him so he quits, much to his father's immense disappointment.

A little squeezing produces a name. A little more produces a place: Omega. Garrus is on the first shuttle out.

Upon landing he immediately takes down a Vorcha mugging an elderly human with a well placed hit with his rifle butt. The woman is thankful, calling him an angel;some type of human guardian spirit.

Later he finds another Turian at the Afterlife while drowning his sorrows and the two decide to take the fight to Omega's gangs.

After that, more join up until he has a squad, 12 strong, helping to clean up the streets of the space station and earning both the adoration of the locals and a new nickname: Archangel.

Adoration isn't the only thing their war earns them; credits roll in as well. His men want to take it easy, slow down, but he won't hear it. Partly because he knows they're doing good work and partly because he doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn't have a target in his scope.

 He pushes too hard.

Sidonis's betrayal catches him completely off guard. Lured away with a lie of an operation, he returns to carnage. His crew lies dead or dying throughout their hideout and Sidonis is nowhere to be found. As he does his best to keep the survivors alive, he can feel the old rage coursing through his veins as he clears out the invading gang members one by one. 

Sidonis is going to pay.

He's exhausted. The bodies of his crew are starting to smell, and he's running low on ammo. He pulls the trigger and another merc falls, they've long since stopped sending their best and he's long since stopped feeling bad about the inexperienced cannon fodder being sent after him.

Still, it won't be long now.

Moving into cover, he opens his omni-tool and does something he hasn't done in a long time.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dad."

"Garrus? What's that sound?"

He peers through the scope and drops another merc.

"Target practice."

"Then call back later."

"I-I don't think I'll be able to do that," he sighs, "too many targets."

"...I see."

Another merc falls but there are four more coming to take his place.

"Listen, Dad, I don't have a lot of time left," he says, popping out the heat sink, "I just wanted to tell you, you were right. About everything. I'm sorry we fought so much."

"Don't worry about that now," his father replies, to an untrained ear he might have sounded calm, "these...targets? Are they moving fast?"

"Not fast enough," he's looking through his scope again and notices a group who seem to actually know how to use cover, " but they're learning."

"Thermal clips?"

"Could always use more."

The group is on the move again, and he spies something that makes his heart skip a beat. N7 armor.

" No matter how bad things are," his father continues, " so long as you have one bullet left, you can still finish the job. Understand?"

"Yes sir." He mutters, shooting a concussive round at the mystery soldier. It knocks their helmet off, revealing a pile of raven-dark hair.

"Good, and when you finish up there you come home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

 His focus is now squarely on the squad making their way across the bridge; he can see her clearly in his scope, right as she fires a round into the back of a merc's head.

"Yeah, we do," he says, relief washing over him, "Dad, I've got to go, but don't worry about me. The odds just got a lot better."

"I thought you were dead."

He resisted the impulse to touch her, to make sure that she's actually real and not some pre-death hallucination, opting to sit down on a nearby crate instead.

"Garrus, what are you doing here?" She asked, her eyes bright and alive.

"Good to see you too."

She smiled up at him and he felt his stomach flip, " I'm just surprised to see you."

"Well, that makes both of us." He replied, " Still, it's good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

"You shot me."

"Concussive rounds only, didn't want the mercs getting suspicious."

She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in that oh so familiar way, "yeah, right."

His mandibles twitched in a smirk, "If I wanted to do more than take your shields down, I would have done it. Besides, you were taking your sweet time, I had to get you moving."

She had questions, he was sure, but so did he. Not that they had time for that, not with the mercs en route. 

The decision was easy, they would hold their position and with the help of Shepard and her two companions they should be able to make a dent in the merc's resistance and haul ass out of the base.

"Alright," she said, with a grin, "let's spill a little merc blood."

"Good to see you haven't changed."

The battle was desperate, even with the help, but Garrus found himself reinvigorated; watching Shepard aim down the sights of her own rifle to his left. It was her usual spot, and he hadn't fully realized how impossible it had been to fill until she was back in it.

He took aim, and had a merc in his sights but before he could pull the trigger, their head snapped back and they dropped to the floor. 

"You stole my kill, Shepard."

"Ya snooze ya lose Vakarian," she shot back, laughing over the sound of gunfire, " besides, you've had them all to yourself, don't be greedy."

"Me? Never."

She stayed by his side for most of the fight while the other humans took out anyone that made it past their bullets,there weren't many, or made entry on the lower level. It was only when Blue Suns started streaming in that she switched to her SMG and ran off to get rid of them while he kept picking off anyone stupid enough to try and cross the bridge.

Then came the gunship.

"Damnit," he growled, reloading, "I thought I took that thing out."

A hail of bullets flew towards him as he turned to fire, taking down his shields and forcing him into cover.

"You think you can screw with the Blue Suns," taunted the pilot, "this ends now!"

Swearing, he made for cover on his left just in time to see a rocket fly in his direction. The world exploded around him and he felt himself become airborne before landing in a heap, excruciating pain radiating through his body as his vision began to darken. Somewhere above him, he heard someone screaming his name.

As he lost consciousness, he only had one thought.

I just got her back.

[jokerislandgirl32]

New Beginnings: A Wild Violet One Shot

Okay so I’m super behind in the game, but I wanted to complete at least a couple pieces for the Drabblecember challenge, and even though it’s the 29th of December, I decided to go ahead and share this piece with you all. It became more of a one shot than a Drabble, I hope that it okay! It is a very important piece to me because it signifies a very special moment in the relationship between my f/o Zach and s/i Violet. And this is the first fanfic piece I’ve posted in forever, so yeah! I can write again!

The prompt I am using for this piece is Day 1: Winter Weather.

Word Count: 1,662

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Mentions of loss of child, mentions of pregnancy, morning sickness, light angst, one mild curse word, kissing/makeout session, a few suggestive comments (but nothing explicit/nsfw). If any of this triggers you please do not read! I don’t want to hurt anyone!

Placing the story below a cut, there is a second part, so I may update this post/link it at another time! Enjoy!

Selfship Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed 😊):

@snailchans-imaginarium @crunch-crunch-eat-a-bunch @changingcore @bitchywitchheart @stoatsapphic @3qu1us-main @kittycatkissez @benreillyswife @creativegenius22 @genderqueer-bithing @serenitytodd1234 @mailiow @celestetheseaunicorn

POV: This takes place during the Under Frozen Pond Episode, so here are some Zach screenshots from said episode 🥰!

The cold weather of the winter season enveloped me as I lay in the snow. I wore my husband’s scarf and trench coat, my own gray gloves, and a lilac hat that once belonged to my mother. I looked up to the bright blue sky, and breathed deeply, closing my eyes as I exhaled.

I’d run away from Zach after we’d had an argument about my recent health concerns. Zach was bound and determined to keep me confined to the plane until we returned to the city for me to see my doctor, but I was tired of being cooped up all day.

To be fair he’d gotten his way most days for nearly two weeks because I’d been too sick to even leave our bedroom, but today I’d felt well enough to join him while he surveyed the location for the Annual Villain’s Meeting.

As Zach was wrapping his former winter coat and scarf around me my hopes of breaking free from my confinement to enjoy the cold weather were crushed when I’d gotten sick to my stomach yet again. I narrowly avoided becoming sick all over his shiny winter boots, and Zach grimaced and gagged for a few minutes until my sick spell subsided. He composed himself after I’d come up for air from the trash can he’d ordered Tan to bring to me while Cro cleaned up the mess.

Zach pulled a box of mints out of his pocket and emptied a few in my palm, something he’d started doing nearly two weeks before when I’d first started getting sick, “We’re going to have to get you to the doctor, Vi, you should’ve been over the virus by now, I was over it after a day….this isn’t normal.”

“I know,” I whispered, itching to tell him my suspicions, but I just couldn’t face it, not yet, not after what had happened in July.

I opened my eyes, looking to the sky again, wondering if she was looking down on me with those green eyes so like her father’s, the red hair like her grandmother’s, and my face with the freckles Zach and I both had during childhood.

If she was here things would’ve been very different…but I knew it was best not to dwell on that, it would just depress me again. I tried to focus on the positive: she was now our guardian angel. And if what I suspected was happening, I knew we needed her protection now more than ever.

Zach’s shrill voice met my ears as he called out my name. I lifted my head up far enough to see him slipping and sliding his way toward me over the ice. I laughed and sat up, not wanting to miss the opportunity to see him fall flat on his ass. It reminded me so much of when we’d gone skating the first time a couple years before. I’d never skated in my life and Zach had very little experience himself so it was quite a comical sight.

While he wobbled his way toward me, his curses becoming louder by the second, I thought how much I’d like to go skating with him right then, but I knew with what was happening to me that it probably was not the safest option.

Zach finally reached me, and I flopped back down on the snow, exhausted from my uncontrollable laughter. Zach loomed over me, his legs spread so that my legs were between his, if I’d reached up and pulled him down it would have been a very compromising position.

Zach didn’t seem to notice because he was so absorbed in his own anger, he planted his hands on his hips and took the opportunity to yell at me, “what’s so funny?”

“You trying to walk on the ice, you’re as graceful as a hippopotamus,” I laughed, trying to catch my breath and wiping tears from my eyes.

“I am far more graceful than a hippo platter mouth or whatever,” he hissed, not amused by my comments. Zach turned away and walked in the direction of the plane motioning for me to follow him, “come on and get up, it’s freezing out here…”

I sat up with the full intention of following him, but a wave of nausea stopped me in my tracks. I slowly lowered my head back to the ground taking calming breaths, Zach had turned back to yell at me, “VIO…Vi?”

“I need a minute,” I whispered, covering my mouth with my hand.

Zach crunched his way back over to me through the snow and sat down beside me, his brows knitted in concern, “are you okay?”

I shook my head and he took my free hand in his, wrapping our gloved fingers tightly together, he laid down on his back beside me and we held hands, looking at each other silently until I was able to speak again.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, smiling weakly at him.

Zach lifted his head, and pulled his hand free of mine, “no you’re not, we have to get you to the doctor and find out what’s going on, Violet…I’ll call Donita and Gourmand and we’ll reschedule….”

“No, Zach…” I whined, I covered my face with my hands to hide the tears that threatened to escape, “I’m fine…I’m just sick is all, it’s because, well…Zach…I think we’re pre…”

I pulled my hands away and looked at his face, etched with confusion and curiosity, I couldn’t tell him here, not yet…I had to be sure…so I quickly changed the conversation, “do you remember when we first went ice skating a couple years ago?”

Zach’s face went slack for a minute, and his eyes widened, he lowered his head to the snow again, staring at the sky in confusion before he looked back at me, “uhhh, yeah?”

I quickly covered my near omission, “I think we’re perfectly happy like we were then…yes we’ve had sickness come our way, but we’re not going to let that stop us from being happy and doing what we need to do, right? We’ll just get up and try again after falling down, we can’t let this sickness stop us from enjoying our day…”

Zach’s face contorted with bewilderment again, “so…uhhh, you wanna go skating?”

I giggled, pulling his gloved hand into mine and kissing the top of his hand, “No, that’s not what I meant…even if I wanted to I can’t, but no, no, no…Zach, that’s not my point, my point is, we can’t let me being sick ruin our day, I’m just a little sick that’s all, after today I’ll get a doctors appointment, and we’ll take it from there…one step at a time.”

Zach, nodded his head slowly, still looking unsettled by our situation and conversation, “okay…then….”

I released his hand and grinned, waving my arms around me in the snow, “that’s settled!”

Zach snickered, “are you making a snow angel?”

I stopped moving my arms and glanced to either side of me, I hadn’t done it intentionally, but I indeed had a pair of snow angel wings started, “I guess so…wanna join me?”

“Join you?” Zach scoffed, moving to stand up, he rolled his eyes, “it’s childish, frivolous…”

I resumed waving my arms and moving my legs to complete the angel, “it’s fun…one of my favorite cold weather activities…”

Zach huffed and grabbed my hand, plopping into the snow beside me, he reluctantly started making his own snow angel, “this is humiliating…if Donita and Gourmand see us…”

“They’ll think it’s cute,” I giggled, and I sat up long enough to give him a peck on the cheek.

I peered out of the corner of my eyes and snickered as a blush crept across his pale features that were already tinted red from the cold, “oh no you don’t,” he hissed, moving from beside me to straddling me within seconds.

I could not stop giggling as Zach’s flustered face hovered inches from mine, his hands on either side of my head, “think you can just tease me and get away with it, do ya?”

“N-no!” I gasped between laughs, Zach smirked and closed the space between us, kissing me. My giggles subsided as he deepened the kiss, I reached my hands up and grasped either side of his face, pulling his face closer to me, earning a moan from him, “minx,” he mumbled against my lips. He then trailed his lips across mine and from my nose to my chin. He gave me one quick kiss on my nose and sighed. I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He whispered, a grin spreading across his face, he shook his head and stood up, “come on, let’s get you back to the plane, laying in this cold weather can’t be good for you.”

I relented and sat up, I held my hands to him and he helped me to my feet, I bounced slightly as I stood up, earning a laugh from Zach, “always enthusiastic…”

Zach released my hands and offered his arm to me, I giggled and wrapped my arms around his bicep, “such a gentleman,” I teased.

He smirked, “I try.”

We started walking back to the plane, and I abruptly stopped. I untangled myself from Zach’s arm and walked back to our snow angels, Zach called out, “what’s wrong?”

I stood in front of the snow angels and whispered a quiet prayer, “please protect this one,” I placed my hands into the middle of my snow angel, fanned out to look somewhat like a butterfly, I felt a tear trickling from my eye, and I brushed it away.

I quickly rejoined Zach who’d raised an eyebrow at me, “was that for Alexandria?”

“Maybe,” I whispered, biting my lip, Zach continued giving me an awkward stare, but he wrapped his arm around my waist, resting his hand on my stomach, unknowingly answering his own question with the simple yet touching gesture.

[original-character-championship]

Bracket B Round 1

Poll 32

Felix (@oopsie0503) vs. Luna (@goblinoid-wretch)

127. Felix (@oopsie0503)

He/They

They're my favorite traumatized transgender homosexual little creature. He is so tragic. He is such a kind little soul who wouldn't hurt a fly, he just wanted to be accepted for who he was! His family didn't accept him when he came out as trans and he was in a horrible place when the God of the Sun came along and told him he could give them a better life. Of course when a God, respected and worshipped, offers to give you the life you've dreamed of, you'd take it. Then a lot of really shitty stuff happens to him, I won't get into it here because some of it's really sensitive but you can find all his lore on @lux-loquitur plus some other characters from his lore. He's got two kids, and he loves them both unconditionally even if they are both in some way direct results of his trauma. He gets betrayed by his husband (Moon) who saved him from his abuser, (Sun) and he ends up trapped in a 'star room', or a depiction of his last movements which were so confusing and tragic in so many ways that they ruined his afterlife. He is stuck here for centuries, unable to interact with any of the objects in the room including pictures of his daughters, as well as himself and Moon. He can't figure out why he'd killed him, it's lost on him. Slowly he goes insane, his mind snapping, until he is summoned by Moon after the God finds a strange orb (which the universe itself may or may not have had some role in delivering). Felix, now the only Lux to ever visit the living realm from the afterlife, is more powerful than even the God of Creation, killing Sun, his abuser, and taking on the position of God of the Dead and the Stars.

Felix is a part of a species called the Lux, with dark skin, freckles, a long tail with a tuft of fur at the end, and long pointed ears. His eyes are a vibrant electric blue, matching with the glowing bits of his antenna. His hair is cut halfway down to his neck and is a dark brown. His usual attire consists of a crescent moon choker, a sleeveless crop top, and a pair of dark blue shorts and an arm band depicting hearts. After death he comes back as a spirit (and eventually becomes the god of death) and he is a slightly opaque, vibrant blue. His eyes are a dark cyan and parts of him which once gave off light are now dark. His death wound on his neck as well as his mouth and nose bleed for centuries. His arm band depicts broken hearts and he is able to have either a wispy, genie like body or legs as he pleases.

128. Luna (@goblinoid-wretch)

She/her

I have put her through enough goddamn trauma for both iterations of her life. She has suffered through capture by the faux-SCP Foundation of my universe, had like maybe five years worth of time with her brother before he got killed because she let her guard down for a second, spend maybe another year trying to come to terms with this (with the support of her girlfriend <3) before she was forced to kill her girlfriend (</3), then got like a week to start processing all of this before the end of the universe.

AND THEN THE UNIVERSE RESETS BECAUSE THE CORRUPTED GOD FRAGMENT (there are 3 creator fragments btw) ABSORBED ANOTHER ONE OF THE FRAGMENTS AND MADE A FLAWED AND NONSENSICAL REPLICA OF THE OLD UNIVERSE!!! So now Luna has to deal with inexplicably working for the Foundation after escaping as a D-Class equivalent years before while being haunted by a strange anomaly that she can never remember (her brother acting as a guardian angel). She gets a different girlfriend this time around, who is also helping her through her problems, but because it's the Foundation where everybody has to have something wrong somehow, the girlfriend is intrinsically linked to an exploitative demon that takes control occasionally, exploiting the weaknesses that Luna has shared to further damage her mental state. She also has to cope with their weird hollowness left over from the unresolved feelings pre-universe reset, so there's that.

She just desperately needs a win right now. She's got the anger of a poorly-adjusted teen trapped in the body of a 20-something year old, a theoretically biting wit that often fails her whenever she's trying to make any sort of clever remark, and a seeming curse of absolutely horrendous luck.

She has been my main failgirl-poor little meow meow-scringo for the better part of 4 years now after countless character developments (she started off as the child of two fnaf ocs when I had a brief intersection between interests in fnaf and scp and she just stuck around forever) and I just desperately want her to have some kind of award before I spring the third universe reset on her (sorry luna).

Being demonic in nature, she has dark grey skin, black eyes, and red pupils. Her hair is white, as is her brother's, and she dyes it with orange streaks. She has two horns that break through the hair which extend about three inches out from her forehead and curve. Each horn comes to a slightly curved T-shape split, where the arms of the T extend about an inch below and five inches above where the horn sprouts. Her blood is blue, a color which comes through when she blushes. She has acne scarring on her face across her cheeks and her nose, as well as down her back and on her shoulders. She also has several scars from various battles on various parts of her body. She has a fairly muscular build, though when she initially returns from the Foundation she is somewhat malnourished. She stands at approximately 5'7, a good 7 inches shorter than her brother (a fact that he teases her about regularly), and weighs about 164 pounds.

In the initial timeline, she always wears a black jacket with grey faux fur that her brother got her when she showed up st his doorstep immediately after escaping, which she continues to patch up and wear to this day. She tends to wear cargo pants (for more pockets), sneakers, and t-shirts of various designs, though while going off on missions under the guidance of the fragments she tends to don her old Foundation jumpsuit (inexplicably - she seems to have fond memories, or may be wearing it because of a promise.) Her hair is fairly unkempt,  and tends to fall over her left eye.

Post-reset, she wears her hair pulled back in a low ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. She uses makeup to hide the acne scarring on her face. What she wears changes depending on her mission, but most of the time while she's on the job she wears a black two piece suit with a white work shirt, black dress pants, black dress shoes, and a black tie (the standard uniform for agents within the site where she works.) Her casual wear tends to be the same as pre-reset: t-shirt, cargo pants, sneakers. She also wears a black hoodie as opposed to the pre-reset back jacket, as her brother technically never existed post-reset. The hoodie still makes her feel remorse and nostalgia, though she can't quite place why.

[aph-mable]

Superphantom: The Ghost King, three hunters, and an Angel.

Eros_Creature17

Chapter 4: When Time strikes, Death waits.

__________________________________________________

Danny stayed frozen still as the Angel glared at him while he was still being cuddled by a sleeping Sam.

Cas sighed out knowing that the conversation might be difficult to discuss in this current moment but it was the only time they will have.

With a snap of his fingers both Danny and Cas were teleported into the Impala back seats, making Danny start frantically moving around.

Once the teen had calmed down Cas started to talk again, which hurts Danny's head as he could hear both voices at the same time.

"I need to know who your guardian is, this could mean the matter of life or death for you".

Danny barely raised an eyebrow, was that a threat or a warning.

Cas noticed the teen's reaction and was quickly trying to make himself clear.

" Look, you have been badly injured from the ghost attacking you and even though I tried I can not heal your body. Which is bad but also means that you have a guardian who has taken the main authority overhealing you, and if I don't get their permission I can't help you even when you really need it as you do right now".

Danny finally understood what the angel guy was talking about, but it was a bit hard to explain since Danny is both in a unique position with the 'guardian' thing and because he can't talk in his human form.

He decided that the angel should at least know since he was going to be the last one who would even try to shoot at Danny, including since he didn't even have a gun on him.

Danny tried his hardest to warn the Angel ahead since he knew that most freak out when they first see his ghostly form, but it needed to be done, plus if he showed the crown it might give a hint that he's a bit of authority which could lead to a better outcome.

Danny waited for a moment to see if the Angel beside him even understood what he was trying to say, but when he only got a confused frown Danny knew he just had to go for it.

In a flash of dull white two rings in circle Danny's body and changed his form.

The Angel's eyes grew wide as Danny turned from a scared pale skin 14-year-old, with black hair and piercing blue eyes, and into a young teen with snow-white hair, darkened skinned with earthy green freckles, neon green eyes, and a flaming crown that spun slowly around Danny's head.

The moment Danny finished transforming he looked back over at the Angel, and......

Danny had to try so hard to hold in his laughter and keep things on track, but he just couldn't help grin as his laugh stifled out.

The Angel was backing up to the other side of the seat, wings fully fluffed out as he looked like he was going to nearly yell from the shock he had from seeing Danny.

Danny chuckled for nearly a minute before finally talking to the scared man next to him.

"Okay since I got my voice back but I don't know how long I should keep in this form. I'll make things quick, first off I'm not a threat to humanity and in fact saved it a few times, secondly yes this is a real crown".

Danny stared at the angel to make sure he was listing which he was, he was also trying to open the door but kept missing the handle.

"As for my 'guardian' situation, it is complicated since technically in the middle of an ongoing custody argument, from what I can tell right now C.W and long Nose is working out different times or seniors they have guardian authority over me if that makes sense?".

All the angel did was shake his head but was too frightened to say a thing.

"Well since your questions are now over I'll be turning back to my human form, oh and one more thing"

Danny smiled his sweetest smile he could as he floated off the seat,

"I can promise you no matter what I will not harm your humans, I know what it means to lose the one you care about and I don't ever want to do that to you".

With that, Danny turned back into his human body which was a little more healed up now.

It took a few moments for Angel guy to calm down but he understands now, Danny wasn't a threat to him or his human family.

Both reentered the house through the front door, Danny made sure it was locked again as he went over and grabbed his locked journal, as he did so he saw Sam was just waking up.

Mr. Sasquatch freaked a tiny bit when he saw Danny wasn't in his arms and let out a relieved sigh when he noticed Danny was standing beside him.

" whew kid you scared me, I thought you had disappeared again".

Danny watched as the tall lumbering man stood up from the couch and was heading towards the kitchen, "want anything to eat? I think Bobby has down cereal and milk left".

Danny smiled and followed behind, even though it's been only a few days he really hopes that the angel will let him stay and not tell the others, at least not yet.

Danny wants to tell them when he's ready to and only told the angel so he knew Daniel wasn't a threat to him or the kind people around him.

_____________________________________________

~Cas's pov~

______________________________________________

Castile looked up at the ceiling while laying in the uneven bed.

He still didn't really understand the meaning of sleep but he stayed since it meant Dean would cuddle him.

Last night he had to put a blessing to make sure no one could hear them and the power was now slowly fading away as dawn kept into the darkened glass.

Cas waited till he knew Dean wouldn't notice he had gotten up before leaving the bed, once up he quickly put on his clothing but 'mistakenly' had put on Dean's shirt.

Oh well he didn't have a lot of time to question Danny before Dean or anyone else woke up and it was a needed discussion between just the two of them.

Cas made sure to make no sound as he moved around the creaking house and made his way over to Sam who was snoring away like usual but with the small black-haired boy tucked into his arms almost like a cat would to keep warm.

As Cas waited he saw a faint glow of fire above the boy's head when he first saw Danny he almost mistook him for a demon or a benevolent spirit that had taken passion over the kid's frail body, but now it could be that his guardian has been using him as a vessel.

Cas had witnessed it before, a powerful guardian uses their ward as a body in a time of need or convince.

He waited till Danny woke up which had startled the boy, Cas wanted to apologize since it was a bit of a habit but there wasn't much time.

Once Danny was no longer cuddling up to Sam, Cas teleported them into the back seat of 'baby'.

"I need to know who your guardian is, this could mean the matter of life or death for you".

Cas looked at Danny to make sure he was listing and waited for a response, basically forgetting for a moment that Danny had bandages around his neck and wasn't even supposed to be talking, but after some silence, he realized his mistake and had to remind himself that people don't heal as quickly as angels.

When the only response he had gotten from the teen was a raised eyebrow Castile tried to make himself more clear.

" Look, you have been badly injured from the ghost attacking you and even though I tried I can not heal your body. Which is bad but also means that you have a guardian who has taken the main authority over you, and if I don't get their permission I can't help you even when you really need it as you do right now".

After the blurb of info stopped he noticed Danny was trying to communicate by other means but he wasn't understanding him at all.

Danny sighed and was thinking to himself for quite some time, and in an instant looked over at Cas with a different look in his eyes.

Before Castile could even react to the change the boy in front of him transformed in a flash of dull white, which made him quickly move to the opposite side of the seat near the car door.

What was in front of him he couldn't understand, where once there was a small pale boy with black as night hair and bandages was gone, he was replaced by a being that glowed with neon green vines, hair white as snow, a black and white bodysuit, and a flaming crown.

This creature that was using the boy's body and pulsed with the energy to fill the cosmos looked at him with vacant green eyes and chuckled at his fear.

What spoke to Cas wasn't anything human, his voice softly echoed as sensation kept into the car, it felt like he was trapped in a frozen wasteland with this thing as it spoke nonsense.

"Okay since I got my voice back but I don't know how long I should keep in this form. I'll make things quick, first off I'm not a threat to humanity and in fact saved it a few times, secondly yes this is a real crown".

Why would he care if the crown was real or not?

Was he always in control and is using Danny's body as a meat suit or was it just at random?

And how could this powerful being not be a threat to humanity, but there was no way to fight it.

Castile kept on trying to find the car handle so if things got bad he could leave, but his hand kept missing as the inhuman being kept on talking.

"As for my 'guardian' situation, it is complicated since technically in the middle of an ongoing custody argument, from what I can tell right now C.W and long Nose is working out different times or seniors they have guardian authority over me if that makes sense?".

All Cas could do was shake his head no, none of this was making sense unless...

Those were obviously code names, but what would C. W and long nose or more of who are they.

Was it possible that Danny was part if some three-way share holds between these powerful creatures, where they are taking turns on using the teen's body?

No that wouldn't make sense since any powerful being would ever share a body vessel, but Cas needed to get to the bottom of this.

Cas's mind was going in every direction trying to figure out what was even going on the creature talked again.

"Well since your questions are now over I'll be turning back to my human form, oh and one more thing",

Cas didn't like the sounds of that, what was he going to threaten Castile with.

He saw the ethereal being smile much more softly at Cas.

"I can promise you no matter what I will not harm your humans, I know what it means to lose the one you care about and I don't ever want to do that to you".

Oh great at least this one was making a promise not to harm his humans which was at least good!

That just left him and the rest of humanity to be possible targets!

With those last passing words the powerful immortal being lost possession over the boy's body and let him drop to the soft leather seat, Cas didn't even realize that Danny even floated up from it till now.

Both went inside, Castile needed to start thinking of a plan or at least get some information on whatever has control over Danny's body, he needed to act promptly for the sake of humanity.

Wait, should he tell the others?

Cas shook his head no, he didn't want to risk them and as long as Danny was close by that thing could take control over again, and if Castile himself couldn't even know what the creature is he doubts the hunters would know.

It would be safer this way, and he needed, WANTED, to keep Dean safe, he couldn't risk losing him again.

_________________________________________________

________________________________________________

~Danny's pov/ time skip~

________________________________________________

__________________________________________________

It had been nearly a week and a half now, and whatever the Winchester's and Bobby were trying to find was obviously not around anymore.

A few times Danny tried to see what they were trying to hunt but that always stopped him before Danny could get too close to even seeing the pictures Bobby had taken.

By now Danny had gained his voice back for his human form or more of he did on the second day but kept quiet till the end of the week so as not to scare anyone.

Danny noticed Cas -he finally heard what the angel guys name was after he finally heard someone say it-, was acting a little standoffish since there 'talk' but Danny wasn't going to complain about it.

Now that Danny had his voice back he had to try really hard not to say thing under his breath just in case anyone was listening.

During the days he was left alone he would update his notebook about what he read on spirits from Bobby's library since it seemed pretty useful.

Danny was talking to himself as he was rereading some entrees and updating them, Danny wasn't paying much attention around himself as he did so.

"Okay so I know now that I've been classifying some of these wrong, echos are at the bottom of the power chain, most spirits are actually unable to float or cause much damage, and a few are attached to their items".

Danny shivered as he thought back to both the ring lady and the dragon ghost, both had similar get-up but difference in power level.

Danny smiled at his new chart, feeling a little happy that he finally had some pieces fit more together.

" huh who knew the box ghost was more powerful than a lady in a nightgown".

As Danny finished up he closed up his notebook and was about to lock it back up when he was suddenly held by the scruff of his plaid shirt by Dean, who looked almost unimpressed but Danny knew he was going to give a lecturer again.

He waited for Dean but instead, he took Danny's notebook, letting him fall back onto the couch as he started to read through it.

The only thing Danny was relieved about is that when he mentioned himself in the book he didn't use his actual name but his nickname Phantom so it would be way harder to figure out who it was if something like this would happen.

Danny waited for about five minutes, five minutes of Dean just moving around the room and soon sitting across from Danny as he handed it over to Sam.

He looked at Dean's face who was actually smiling, not the happy go lucky smile, the smile of 'I just found something that I would have liked to know twenty years ago'.

Dean moved forward to grab his drink and sit back, still looking at Danny with the smile.

"Well kid, from the looks of it you have some explaining to do, I mean it's one thing to have weapons that are very obviously homemade but professionally, and another to have a complete book about, what was it, oh yeah a ghostly dimension, mapped out and all".

Danny swallowed hard, this was going to be hard to explain, including since he wasn't sure if Dean had read through all of it or just skimmed it.

Danny was about to speak until Dean put up one finger.

" but before you say anything I want you to answer the main questions that I have, one of which is how the hell you got all this information in the first place".

Daniel sighed, he knew this was going to be fun.

____________________________________________________

End of chapter 4

[002yb]

Current thoughts: the titans 2018 tv show understandably has to deviate from dc’s messy comic timelines for coherency - and thus the need to rewrite a major part of everybody's origins- but i wanna see what would happen if everything was comic adjacent timeline wise - other then the titan's timeline. I.e. dick and Jason meet far before, Nightwing being far more established when the titans come together again and how this affects the narrative.

Basically established relationship dickjay but they don't really recognize it as anything relationship-wise (platonically or romantically), they just have this notion of “hes mine - im his” so it comes naturally. Their natural functional codependency and how Jason’s death leads to far more drastic reactions. (Because Dick Grayon hallucinated Jason for a while - just to talk to him, keep him sane, just to have his little wing back for a minute. Because Dick Grayson beat the joker to death for uttering Jason's name.)

Unironically this started because pre-crisis red-head Jason is very dear to me and he had to dye his hair to emulate dick, but I also need people to dip into the potential of him having to wear mascara and other makeup to hide other features. Just a scene of Dick watching him in the mornings, red roots and freckled face stumbling about - purely Jason - before he hides himself from the world. Maybe Dick is a bit mournful that he has to go through this length, maybe he's humored at the sight of Jason struggling with mascara so early in the morning, maybe he gets a lick of possessiveness at the fact that nobody will see Jason the way he can. And then it expanded to (everything else). (And maybe after it all he has the fleeting thought of how pretty he is in his mind, and if Jason is strangely flushed under his stare he doesn't comment.)



Also : @coffeestainsonpaper - nothing posted yet though…but there are plans i promise :,,)

Oh~ pre-established dickjay with a loosely defined, companionable relationship? Sign me up, this sounds lovely. Especially with this being their starting point! Having zero context to explain their closeness and the intimacy they share, leaving everyone to sum it up to being a 'Robin' thing, lol. This is a really cute and sweet concept, for real.

Sort of related but kind of not, but like - an AU where Dick finds his own replacement (Jason). No animosity, no drama, no angst (in the sense of jealousy or insecurity or inconsideration). Because Dick recognizes that he's outgrowing this mantle and identity he's created; it's something he sits with and stresses over for some time. Resentment growing only because he feels stifled, obligated to care for one city (Gotham), one person (Batman). It makes him feel cagey, clipped. Even still, he's resigned because discipline is in his blood, but duty was beaten into him after a decade long career of vigilantism.

And Dick just sort of spirals, losing sight of what it is Robin means to him - what it should be to this city. How he can change, adapt, grow within a cage.

And it's not that Dick passes the responsibility to Jason so that Dick can get gone - he would recognize that Jason is different. He's like Bruce (with that close relationship to Gotham), only more (because Bruce was hurt by Gotham; Jason was born from it). Jason cares for and understands the city, it's community. He knows how it works in a different way than Bruce. Jason wants and tries to help (via crime to help himself, a growing community of transients, working girls, streetkids, etc). Jason stands up for those in need although he's a runt, less than a hundred pounds soaking wet - a firecracker, steeled and gritty and wonderful.

There's something hopeful about Jason, though Dick doesn't doubt that the kid will get himself killed with how he throws himself into fights he can't win.

Which leads to Robin being a bit of a guardian angel with looking out for him.

And like. Takes of Jason being prickly at that sort of attention is cool and all, but what if he was just a sweetheart lol. Just very !! at Robin coming to defend him because guess what? Robin has been his hero for so long. An inspiration. A hope that people like Jason can be safe and protected and cared for.

Needless to say, Dick comes to love him. Quietly. With so much affection.

Jason is kind and caring and compassionate. He's tough and scrappy and resilient - always standing up after getting knocked down, always trying again and again -

Of course Jason was going to be Dick's legacy.

And uh. Yes. So much digressing here LOL. But basically Dick and Jason having a good relationship before Dick leaves Gotham and even after. Jason is Dick's Robin, after all. So they stay close. And when Dick calls, Jason comes. And it's easy between them; they're fond of each other and happy because at the core of their relationship - they see hope in one another.

Hm. Another digression mid paragraph?? Idk where the thoughts are anymore but hahaha love your idea of pre-established nightwing/robin!!

As for red-head Jason with the makeup - that could be fun! Anything with Dick quietly admiring Jason and contemplating him while also potentially being all possessive over what people do and don't see of Jason I'm all sorts of down for hahaha. Possessive!Dick is top tier.

I feel like a lot of people (I've only talked to like, two people ever so maybe not LOLOL) like red-head Jason, so potentially a hot take, but~ I'm fond of dark haired Jason because like. The comedic potential of someone asking Dick if he's attracted to Jason because Jason looks vaguely similar to him is so fucking funny to me ahahahahaha.

Sorry this took so long to reply to, anon. Life is a time. ;U;

edit: hello, hello all the best with the tumbling @coffeestainsonpaper ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯I forgot to reply to this portion of the ask whoops I hope I was the first follow though LOL

[hext00ns]

Outrunning Karma

Chapter 3: dungeons and decisions

Ships: Stylenny

Warnings: (Non-permanent) Main Character Death, Cults

AO3 L!nk in Comments!

Kyle needed to start taking his own advice. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like that was going to be happening anytime soon.

He tapped the pen on the tip of his lip in thought as his eyes scanned the report on his computer screen. Searching information about a masked vigilante in Denver was both easy and hard at the same time.

Easy in the sense that there weren’t a lot of them. To be frank, there weren’t any at all. Mysterion was a one-in-a-million situation. And even then, when he was last active, he was only active in South Park. Not really Denver proper.

Hard in the sense that Mysterion was elusive. He took his secrecy seriously. He had a ‘hero name’ and a whole persona, but rarely let himself be caught enough for people to actually learn it. As if the vigilante persona was made more as a last case result in the instance that someone did start asking too many questions.

It frustrated Kyle when his searching came up seemingly fruitless. Though, he was also angry at himself for even doing these searches in the first place. Not after he had spent so long hammering it into Karen, now Stan, that they shouldn’t go digging around into the vigilante’s current adventures.

Kyle gave out a loud sigh and ran a hand over his face. Letting his chin rest in his palm. This was stupid. He was being stupid. Whatever Mysterion was doing wasn’t even his problem. He had nothing to do with anything.

His other hand was aimlessly scrolling through the dates of newspapers. Barely even realizing that his scrolling had gone far back past the dates he had started his search on. His eyes falling out of focus as his hand moved.

Twice. Mysterion had shown up twice. Once to save Karen and once to save Stan. All in two days. Was he watching over them? Kyle vaguely remembered Karen giving the masked hero the nickname ‘Guardian Angel’. Was that really what he was? Not a man in a mask, but an angel sent by some higher being.

But that also didn’t explain his disappearance for seven whole ass years.

Kyle gave out a low, annoyed groan. When he looked back at his computer screen, the article that his mouse was hovering over surprised him.

‘Small Town Vigilante Caught up in House Explosion in South Park’

‘Three Found Dead and More Injured’

Kyle frowned at the words. He forgot how wide the news had reached. South Park rarely made headlines in Denver. He supposed that night was big enough. Made a good story that people would actually buy a physical paper for.

Scrolling down through the article, he took a glance at the images. One was of Mr. McElroy’s house. Or what was left of it from that night. The rubble that remained from the explosion. The reports continuously thanked that the damage didn’t expand over to the neighboring houses. That the explosion was small but that it was the fire from it that took the house down the way it did. They were lucky that there wasn’t more damage.

There was no luck in that night to Kyle.

As he scrolled down the article, more pictures appeared. One of Mr. Adler, the shop teacher at South Park Elementary. Another of Mr. Nelson, an older man that worked with Stan’s dad at the Geology office when they were growing up. And the third one.

Kyle stared at the third image.

The bright, sky-blue eyes and wild blonde hair that always reminded Kyle of a lion’s mane. A large grin that most could only describe as “shit-eating”, made even more charming and youthful by the sizable gap between his front teeth. And his whole face covered in a mix of freckles and dirt.

The name under it read clear as day. ‘Kenny McCormick. 18.’

Kyle felt his gut twist uncomfortably. He remembered when the news broke out, so many people called for Mysterion’s head. Despite the fact that the hero’s cloak was found left in ruins at the wreckage. Most, for better or for worse, assumed that there was a fourth death that crawled away to preserve identity.

No one ever saw Mysterion after that night. So many people blamed Mysterion for that night.

Not Kyle.

Not the majority of South Park’s younger generation.

No one who knew Mysterion, who had been saved by him, helped by him, seen him nod at them from the top of buildings as he ran through the night since he was a small child.

None of them believed it was him to blame for that night.

However, the police found nothing. Not a single detective could come up with answers. No one was arrested, and they labeled it as an accident.

Most of South Park looked at those involved with an odd eye. A gaze that asked for questions at least until most people just forgot about it all.

They say time heals all wounds. Maybe for some. But for a good couple of people in South Park, time only caused more questions. Questions that most of them had, admittedly, given up on looking for answers.

Karen, now Stan, clearly saw this as an opportunity to rekindle those questions. Kyle could even feel a part of himself aching for the same thing. That was how he found himself knee deep in old newspapers. Of course, he came up with nothing new. Nothing but old wounds being digged at once again.

He leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

Maybe if he was lucky, this whole Mysterion thing was just some weird copycat hero who’ll give up on it all in a few weeks.

***

By the time Karen and Ike arrived at the Dungeons and Java, Henrietta and Firkle were already there. Karen gave them both an excited wave as they drew near the table the two had claimed.

“Jesus fuck, it feels like it’s been years,” Henrietta commented once the two had stopped before her. She stood and pulled Karen into one of her quick (and rarer than a blue moon) hugs.

Karen always loved Henrietta’s hugs. Even though the older woman didn’t give them out very often. She was awesome at giving them.

“I know,” winded Karen as they let go. “We should do these hangouts more often. It’s not like the Springs are that far away.”

Firkle chuckled at that comment, standing up alongside Henrietta. “I mean, if you wanna pay the gas and Ubers. By all means,” he said with a limp flick of his hand. He moved to pull Ike into a hug. Giving the shorter a quick peck.

Ike crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, fuck that. I’m content with video call dates.”

Karen only responded to the two with her tongue stuck out and a pout. Not that she was too surprised. It felt like that exact conversation happened every time they met up.

She took a seat next to Henrietta and Ike took his across from her. Both of them pulling out a notebook and tablet, respectively. Karen also brought a bag of some cheaper colored pencils. Ones she didn’t mind getting too ruffed up on trips.

“Okay,” Ike started up again. “What’s the session concept?”

Henrietta already had her own iPad out and ready, flipping through a few of her pages. “The setting is like, fantasy post-apocalyptic.”

“Like Adventure Time?” Karen asked with an excited raise of her brow.

The other woman gave a scoff at that. “Oh please, mines gonna be so much better. Mines gonna have fuckin’ dragon kings who crush vampires with their mighty fists.” She fisted her own hand and slammed it to the table for emphasis.

“I still can’t believe you convened me to join in on this,” Firkle mumbled with a humored huff through his nose.

She crossed her arms. “I’m still trying to get Micheal and Pete to join us. Micheal, that doucheface, said he would come but he wouldn’t play.”

“Maybe Stan would play with us?” Ike offered. “He and my brother’s friends used to, like, LARP or some shit when they were kids.”

Henrietta’s face grew a little warm at the comment as she gave a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, who do you think got me into this loser shit?” She admitted with a sigh. “Also, you guys are starting out as strangers, so, like, do whatever the hell you want with backgrounds.”

The four of them then set forth on their quest to make their quest fairing characters. Karen pausing to pick up everyone’s drinks before coming back.

While she was working out her own character with the others, she idly doodled her character’s design in her notebook. As she drew, her character started looking more and more familiar but didn’t click to her till Henrietta looked over her shoulder.

“You’re giving her the Mysterion hood?”

Karen startled out of her doodle daze and looked up at the woman. Her eyes went from Henrietta back to her drawing and blinked at it.

Ike and Firkle now also looking down at the doodles.

It was of a large, raven-haired orc woman with a long flowing purple dress that had golden battle armor over it and a dark hooded cape that wrapped around her neck and shoulders. The hood covering most of her face.

Karen couldn’t help the conflicted frown that came from the sight. “Yeah, guess so…”

Firkle and Henrietta gave each other a look. A silent conversation happening between their eyes.

“I mean, it’s definitely cool and mysterious,” Firkle nodded to it. Trying to bring her back.

Ike shook his head. “It’s not that,” he said, knowing what they thought. Karen was close to Mysterion when they were all kids. There were whispers of Karen’s ‘guardian angel’ around school before the name ‘Mysterion’ had hit any of their ears. When Mysterion disappeared seven years ago, it was just another straw on the camel’s back that was the young girl’s life. “He showed up the other night.”

“What?!” hissed out both goths.

The Canadian nodded. “He saved Karen from some kinda mugger or something on Colfax near Casa Bonita.”

“He’s fucking alive?” Henrietta choked out, eyes wide in surprise.

“He also saved Stan from being kidnapped by some lady downtown,” Karen mumbled.

Henrietta leaned back in her chair. Her surprise still visible on her face as she rubbed a hand over her neck.

Firkle, whose expression mirrored the older woman’s, leaned his arms on the table. Still looking between the other two. “The hell is he doing in Denver?”

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Ike huffed.

Karen was lost in the sight of her drawing. She said nothing, but the cape was not the only thing that was familiar. To her, at least.

She was brought back to the present when Henrietta put a comforting hand on her back with a worried frown. Karen only shook her head in response. Leaning back in her own chair with a sigh. “I wanna find him again.”

The other three looked up at her. Despite their surprised expressions, they should have seen such a declaration coming. They let her continue.

“If Mysterion is alive, then he has answers. He would know what happened that night.”

The silence stretched between them. Long and heavy. Everyone agreed with her thought, but how were they supposed to respond? Deny Karen McCormick answers to questions that she’d been suffering over for seven years? Let her go after a man whose whole existence and profession screamed danger? Neither were options the others particularly enjoyed.

Ike had already had this argument with her.

The night she had first seen the masked vigilante, and he had gotten home to her on the phone with his brother.

“Dude, I saw Mysterion today.”

Ike had hardly had the moment to even put down his coat as he came through the doors of their apartment. Seeing Karen on the couch, looking at him from the phone pressed against her ear.

“WHAT?!” he screeched out. Dropping his coat and running to her. He gave her a close look over. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?” He placed a hand on his forehead. “Jesus, he’s alive?”

Karen only gave a couple of nods. Her phone coming away from her ear a little as she listened to Ike’s frantic questions.

He noticed the device and raised a brow. “Are you on the phone?”

She nodded again. “It’s Kyle.”

“Let me talk to him,” Ike demanded.

“No way dude, we’re talking you literally have your own phone,” she hissed back, keeping the device out of his much shorter reach.

“My phone died at work. C’mon, Kare!” He hissed out, trying to reach over her body to it.

“That sucks, charge it!” She snipped back instead. Kicking at his knee.

“Fucker, let me talk to my brother.” He grabbed her ankle mid-kick and started dragging her down the couch seats.

“Ike! Stop it, you assmuncher!” She went in for a left hook to his arm right as he jumped atop her. Causing him to fall onto her side at the hit and her dropping the phone off the side of the couch to their wooden floor. “My phone!” She cried.

Finally, Karen took the smaller boy by the shirt collar and slammed him into the couch next to her. Giving her room to bend over and grab the device. “Dude, if you broke my fucking phone, you’re buying me a brand new one,” she hissed as she started opening it back up. Thankfully, though the call had dropped, there wasn’t a scratch on it.

She turned to him with a lighthearted glare. “You’re so fucking lucky, Broflovski. Cause I absolutely would have made you get me the newest iPhone.”

Ike pulled himself up to the couch seat with a huff and a cross of his arms. “Stop using fucking apple. They actively shorten battery life on older devices.”

“Fuck you,” was her only comeback. Along with her tongue stuck out at him.

The two sat on the couch next to each other in silence for a moment. Karen quickly texting Kyle a quick message about how much his brother sucks and to have a good night.

Ike looked over at her with a frown. “Did he say anything to you?”

Karen scoffed humorlessly. “Hardly. He made sure I was okay and then told me to go home before running off.”

There was another soft pause before Ike asked, “you are okay, right?”

She nodded. “I almost got like mugged or something. He saved me. I tried to get him to stay. To just tell me where the fuck he’s been this whole time…” she shook her head sadly. “But he barely said five words to me.”

Ike nodded along at her story. Still quiet, not sure what to say. It wasn’t like Mysterion had come back and handed them a bulleted list of what the fuck goes on. He knew Karen told him just as much as she knew.

“I have to find him again.”

“Huh?”

She shifted to look directly at the younger. “I have to find Mysterion! He has answers, Ike. He knows what happened that night! He… he would know what happened to my brother.” Her head drooped down with her words.

Karen would never say out loud how alone that night made her.

She had Ike and Kyle and Stan and even the goth kids. She had people who loved and cared for her and would continue to stay by her side even after that dreadful night. But all of them knew and understood.

Without Kenny, Karen McCormick felt alone.

It was an unspoken understanding that fell on the minds of every person in South Park that knew the McCormick family. When Kenny died, the only family she had left were her parents. Which was a situation all on its own.

Ike knew this. Kyle and Stan knew this. Even the goth kids and the adults knew this. If he hazard a guess, he would say even the McCormick parents themselves knew this.

Time helped her cope. She came back out of the shell she had closed herself off into. Slowly, but surely, she began to live her life again. But time didn’t do the one thing it promised. It never fully healed her. It never took away the burning questions. The sorrow that became anger. That became more and more questions. Sleepless nights full of nightmares and not an answer in sight.

Now, before her, fell the man who might just have that closure for her. The one person who could possibly put all that pain and suffering to at least some ease.

Ike knew that must have been how she felt. She saw Mysterion as her answer. As her closure.

“Kyle said it was too dangerous to go after him.”

He focused back on her from his thoughts. He then gave a shake of his head. “Kyle’s right,” he sighed. As much as he hated to say it.

Her face fell. “I know,” she mumbled. “But he always protects me. He’d never put me in danger and if I was, he’d get me out of it! Maybe if I can just get him to talk to me-”

“No way!” Ike hissed. “Yeah, he protected you this time and sure, maybe from bullies and shit when you were a kid. But what if something really bad happens?” He reached over and put a hand on her arm. “Karen, what if he’s in deeper shit than we even know? He’s been gone from South Park for seven years. Maybe even from Colorado, entirely. Whatever he’s chasing, or god forbid, running from, we need to keep out of it.”

Karen snatched her arm away from him. Giving him a harsh look. “Look me in the eye and tell me if someone murdered your brother, and you knew one person had the answers to why that you wouldn’t go after him.”

Ike opened his mouth. But all the voice he had was gone. Only replaced by the horrible taste in his mouth at just the thought of something bad happening to his brother.

“Tell me, Ike. Say it to my face that you would just let his death stay a mystery for the rest of your fucking life.”

His mouth had gone dry at that point. Floundering for anything to say. “I… I don’t…”

Watching the way his face contorted in distress forced Karen out of her rage. She slinked down into herself and let her face fall to her palms. “Fuck,” she hissed lowly. She looked back up to him. Tears prickling at her eyes. “Ike, I’m sorry. That was too far. I didn’t… I don’t know. I’m sorry…”

He sighed. Wiped his eyes to keep anything from falling. He looked up at her with a tired, melancholy smile. Trying to be reassuring as best as he could. But he knew it only echoed the emotions that clouded their living room. “It’s okay. I’d say ‘I get it’ but I don’t. I really, really, don’t fucking get it.” He scooted closer and took the older girl into a hug. “But it’s fine. Listen,” he sighed, pulling away enough to look her in the face. “Just… don’t do something reckless or stupid. Don’t get hurt.” Ike gave her a much more comforting, though still a little sad, smile. “I’m pretty sure if any of us let you get hurt, Kenny would come back just to kick our asses.”

That comment pulled a laugh out of her. It wasn’t loud or very joyous. But it was a laugh, nonetheless.

Ike looked at Henrietta and Firkle. Calmed down but still showing some surprise and even confusion.

Finally, after such a long and heavy pause, Henrietta sat up and declared, “I’ll help you.”

“What?” hissed out both boys at the table.

Karen perked up at her. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Fuck him for being alive this whole fucking time and not telling us what the fuck happened. If anyone deserves better from him, it’s fucking you and I’ll help you track his loser ass down so he can give you just that.”

“Henry,” Firkle mumbled out. Leaning over the table, almost begging for her direct attention. “You can’t be serious.”

“I fucking am,” she hissed back. “Besides, Kenny was my friend, too. He was a lot of people’s fucking friend. That douchebag can’t just leave and let everyone think he was dead for seven years and then come back with not a fucking word.”

“Yeah!” Karen cried out. Her face lit up with a fire that Ike saw very rarely these days. Her hands clutched to her chest as she turned to Henrietta with large eyes. “We’ll find him and make him talk!”

Ike frowned. Turning his gaze to Firkle who’s worried look mirrored his own. He could only guess they shared a similar thought. That this could go very, very wrong.