#he shouts and occasionally hisses when trying to get me to feed him
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Why does this small creature that lives in my house get so Hangry?
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Magic spit! -marko[tlb] x fem reader
Smut
WARNINGS-this fic contains acts of violence , teasing, oral sex and unprotected sex (rap it before you tap it) biting MDNI MINORS DONT INTERACT
Round about (2,300 words)
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Living in Santa Carla wasn't all bad but tonight, but tonight was a bad day. who would have guessed living in the murder capital of the world would lead to you almost getting killed?
your night had started pretty much like always You finished up your shift at the video store and rode the bus home, You couldn't like something in the back of your mind told you not to take the shortcut maybe then you wouldnt of ended up here trapped in an ally by a guy with a knife.
the man stood forward into the flickering street light he had a shaved head and a black eye.
"Your boyfriends aren't here to protect you now huh" he smirked stepping closer and closer to you.
looking closely at his face you realised he was the guy who slapped your ass while out with the boys your eyes widened in recognition and fear as he held the tip of the knife to your jaw slowly the man dragged it down your jaw causing your skin to split open you tried your best not to hiss in pain.
you kicked the guy as hard as you could in the knee causing him to topple over as he blindly slashed his knife around, unfortunately, slashing up your arms as held them up defensively before you began to run as fast as you could adrenalin coursing through your veins, you could hear the gruff man shouting as you run the sound of your blood roaring and your boots hitting the pavement rhythmically was the only thing you could hear as you continued to run, lungs burning, legs aching and mind racing. you only stopped running when you felt your legs give out under you so there you lay unable to move your face and arms pulsing in pain from the fresh wounds, Your heart felt like it was slamming against your ribs.
you weren't too sure how long you had laid on the sharp gravel unmoving and unwilling to in the silence, that was till you heard the crunch of someone's shoes against the floor like they had just appeared out of nowhere. you bolted up as fear struck down your spine like lightning hitting a tree.
"Baby?"
the familiar voice said gently causing your head to turn quickly to the source Marko, his blong curls matted with blood matching his shirt he moved to wipe his face of the evidence of his last feed.
"Marko" you breathed shakily Your eyes water as your gaze landed on his deep brown eyes
His eyes methodically studied your dishevelled and somewhat bloody form before roughly speaking his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed
"y/n...what happened" his leather-covered hand craidled your cheek as his thumb wiped away the blood from your jaw.
"Th-that guy from the other day attacked me, he had a..a knife " you cried
Marko gently lifted you from the ground his hands under your arms as he spoke darkly "Well sort him out don't worry"
His arms helped support you as he walked you home you occasionally let out a soft sniffle as you attempted to stop your tears. Marko spoke in a low soft tone as he tried to comfort you but the metallic smell of your blood seeping from your wounds had him going feral internally.
"I'm sorry I wasnt there to protect you" he grumbled lowly biting his lip as he took your keys from your shakey hands
his hands gently guided you through the threshold of your house he locked the door behind him as he helped you sit by the table in your cramped kitchen.
your eyes were glued to the tile floor trying not to focus on the dried blood on your arms and face.
"Stay here'll be a right back baby" Marko rushed out he had disregarded his jacket as he moved to your kitchen sink pouring dish soap onto his hands and scrubbing his hands and face to remove his victim's blood as quickly as he could his head kept turning in your direction his eyes soft with a darker look behind them.
"I should never have gone down that ally," you said trying to joke but failing miserably
"Maybe but I'm here and you're here and I'm gonna look after you okay Besides me the boys will make a nice meal of him" he declared as he dried his hands moving to crouch between your legs.
"Okay sweetheart ...uh umm you gonna have to trust me okay"
He chuckled comfortingly as he brought your arm to his face his cool skin sending electricity through your nervous system as he wetted his lips.
"What are you doing" you asked him softly your eyes sparkling with curiosity
"Just trust me" he rasped his voice low and hypnotizing.
Marko's tongue poked out from his mouth as he neared your cut-up arm, his wet tongue pressed flat against the tender wound dragging his tongue up the split skin You hissed at the foreign feeling of his tongue rough against your smooth skin,
He moaned softly the taste of your blood hitting his tongue felt like liquid gold, it felt like a gift from the gods to have your tangy blood hit his lips.
"fuck baby" he outwardly muttered as he kissed the cut it began to tingle and you looked at the once just-up skin now slowly meshing back together your eyes widened in amazement
"I got magic spit baby" he grinned devilishly as he stuck out his slightly pointed tongue
you let out an amazed sigh "Holy shit" you laughed softly as he brought your other arm up to his lips this time his eyes remained glued to yours as his lips slowly trailed up the cut his tongue slowly dragging over it as you bit your lip at the feeling while his eyes darkened his breath heavy against the skin of your arm.
"god baby if this is what your blood tastes like I can't wait to taste the rest of you" he darkly chuckled as he rose from his place crouched between your legs his hand grabbing your chin and tilting your face to the side giving him access to the small cut on your jaw,
Your skin prickled and your breathing hitched at the anticipation of his tongue hitting the raw sensitive skin of your jaw your face felt hot from his comment.
"look at you huh" he whispered as his cold rough tongue lay flat against the sensitive cut, his lips then enveloped the cut gently sucking causing you to let out a small squeak.
"Marko" you whined as he pulled away leaving your skin tingling as it healed.
His hand still on your jaw he looked down at you his eyes hungry, You felt a rush run through your body at his look, heat pooled in your stomach
"You look flushed baby" he teased in a rough tone his nails softly digging into your soft skin
his hand moved from your jaw and trailed down your neck his hand rested there feeling the way your heart rate quickened his cool hands a reminder of his deadly nature.
"What's wrong y/n Your heart is going like a hummingbird" he whispered in a raspy tone his breath hitting the shell of your ear as he leaned closer to you.
your breath hitched as you tried to formulate a response but the words were caught in their tracks as the blond vampire's lips trailed down your neck his teeth occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin
"ugh Marko" you groaned as you felt his lips pull into a smirk
"Use your big girl words" he teased darkly knowing the kind of effect that he had on you.
"Marko stop being a tease," you said in a high whiney toned his hand still gently on your neck
"But you're so pretty when you get all desperate" he laughed moving away from you as he did You leaned forward not wanting to lose contact.
"Come on," he said moving through your house to your small room
he gently pulled you into his chest his hand sliding down your waist his head leaning into your neck inhaling your scent with a huff before sliding down your body his face level with your hips.
his hands tightly gripped the loops of your belt as he tugged the clothing down slightly his lips trailing along your hip bone, his teeth grazing the highest point of your hip with a devilish laugh. you bit your lip at the euphoric feeling of his lips and teeth dragging lower as he shimmied your pants down your thighs.
"Marko" you panted knowing he was about to endlessly tease you
his mischievous smirk didnt let up as he squeezed the meat of your thighs before diving in like a starved animal biting down on your thigh with a loud and obnoxious groan in enjoyment.
the feeling of his teeth shinking into your skin caused you to slap a hand p over your mouth to stop the obscene noises from coming out.
"Aww come on baby don't be shy," he said darkly as he pulled away leaving your thigh with a perfect indent of his teeth, "Move to the bed" he playfully said as he helped move you to lay on your bed as he sperad your thighs apart so that he was situated inbetween then as he kneeled off your bed.
his hands looped over your thighs trapping you, he sloppily kissed up the inside of your thighs his young occasionally dragging along the soft skin until he reached your underwear, his breath fanning across the thin fabric felt like a sweet kiss from a raging fire or like a hungry animal about to pounce you looked down and locked your eyes with his, his eyes ever dark and lust filled begged for your approval, and like a great ruler about to bestow the people with a gift you caved giving his a shy yet Kurt nod.
that simple action was enough to uncage the animal that was Marko and with his hunger, he all but pounced forward shoving your panties to the side as his cool tongue ran through your sensative folds causing your boady to arch and squirm.
"oh fuck, god damn baby" he mumbled not moving away from your sensitive skin causing the vibrations to spread through you.
your hands shot down to tangle in his already matted and bloody hair You felt like he had set you on fire as he continued to devour you.
your body writhing and moving in pleasure
"Hmm, Marko please please" you practically sobbed as he darkly chuckled relishing in your taste.
"Ah ah ah," he said as he pulled away your body flooded with dissatisfaction no longer feeling like a fire was about to cover and engulf every inch of your body you let out a disappointed and high whine at the lack of contact.
"Oh I know baby I know, I was making you feel so good" he cooed mockingly as he stood from his place between your thighs his chin glistening in the soft glow of your bedside lamp a cocky smile eched on his face.
Marko towered over you as he removed his bloody white crop top and began to unbuckle his jeans, he gently moved forward lifting your hips and gently removing your underwear before less gently chucking them over his shoulder with a smirk causing you to let out a snort at his ridiculousness.
he leaned over you once more before helping you to remove your shirt leaving you in just your bra as he unzipped his old blue jeans and moved them down his thighs letting his dick spring from his jeans, your eyes trailed down his body admiring the curves.
"Like what ya see" he chuckled as he took himself into his hand giving his dick a few strokes before sliding into you with an animalistic growl his body now caging your own between him and the matrice his hips against yours his cold skin a welcome sensation against your burning desire.
you bit your lip hard to stop yourself from moaning while he rocked his hips into your own at a steady pace, his lips trailing along your chest up to your shoulder where his head stayed.
"oh fuck baby" he stuttered " you feel fantastic" he said punctuation his words with a thrust causing you to tip your head back in a full attempt to stay quiet
"that it let me hear you," he said moving his hips faster causing the small room to fill with the sickening sounds of slick skin hitting skin, the air felt hot as you tried to control your breathing at his faster pace. he continued trailing his teeth along your neck and shoulders as you panted and moaned at the rhythmic feeling of being surrounded and filled with him.
your moans grew in volume as his hips meeting yours became more more rough more desperate.
his teeth sank into your shoulder as his hips bucked wildly into your own the mixtrue of his continued despraite and sloppy movemnt alsong with the sharp and knife like feeling of his deeth sinking into you caused your entire body to shake, flood gates destroyed as you moaned his name over and over untill his hips slowed leaving you a slurring shaking mess.
he slowly pulled out of you with a curse.
"you did so well" he said kissing your head softly as he moved both your bodys into a more comfortable possition
"from now on you wait till me or dwayne or litrally anone is there to walk you home okay"he mumbled into your hair softly as you cuddled closer into his chest.
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jean-meowreau · 3 months ago
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Day 2 of Kinktober ft. Transdrew Minyard!
Polycule & Glory Hole: Andrew, Neil, Kevin, Jeremy, Jean, & Seth - Asexual Neil ♡
Future fic, all pro players! You can try Seth from my cold dead hands ♡ (full list of tags below cut)
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Andrew was comfortable with his new team. He and Kevin and Neil took the time to handpick the best of the best. The cream of the crop– the 𝘤𝘳é𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘤𝘳é𝘮𝘦 as Jean would so annoyingly say. He grimaces at the comfortable feeling that blooms in his chest as he thinks of everyone on their starting line - everyone in his stupid, weird polycule that he would give his life for. He thought handling Neil was a lot - now he had five dumbasses to keep in line. Kevin, Jean, Jeremy, Seth, and Neil. He grimaces once more as that comfortable feeling in his chest blooms and shuts it out with a solid slam of the bathroom stall door. He turns around, assessing the space, making sure it was aptly clean. Kevin had a knack for it, and it met Andrew's standards.
It was currently 0300, their facilities were empty save the six of them, and Andrew really wanted to get out of his head for their game in two days. He tries to stop fixating on all of the plays Kevin made him memorise as he unfolds his support bench and sets it up, perfectly in line with the two holes on either stall wall. A small one and a large one. He keeps staring at them as he undresses, hanging his clothes on the hook on the door, and lays across the board. First his stomach, and then he changes his mind and switches to his back. He really wants to relax. He rests his feet against the wall and then grabs his phone and sends a text to their group chat before relaxing against the cushions and closing his eyes.
He's not sure how much later it is when the bathroom door creaks open, but five sets of footsteps come in and then come to a stop. Andrew can't help smiling to himself as he shifts around. His lower half is perfectly framed, and he knows it when he hears Jean mutter, “Merde!”
“Andrew,” Neil says quietly. “Terms?”
“Any hole, just give me some warning before coming in. If you want my ass, you're prepping me.”
“Orgasms?”
“I want out of my head, Neil. I don't care.”
“Thank you.”
It's the last thing Andrew hears before there are two knocks to the wall where his thighs are settled. It's all the warning he's provided before a warm mouth is wrapped around his dick and sucking, a tongue dipping down to lick over his already glistening cunt. Andrew hisses in pleasure, writhing against the cushion, before he tilts his head back as he hears two knocks on the wall closest to his head.
Jean's dick pushes through a second later and Andrew hums happily to himself as he lays his head back and drops his jaw, feeding his length in his mouth until it hits the back of his throat and he gags. There's more quiet cursing from Jean before he pulls back and then fucks back into Andrew's mouth. He sets a steady pace, gagging him only occasionally, and letting out a steady stream of curse-riddled praise as his dick twitches against Andrew's tongue. He gets so lost in it, in the relaxation of having his mouth used, that when two fingers dip into his cunt he moans happily and arches his back.
Movement at both ends freezes momentarily before Jean hisses out another stream of profanity and snaps his hips forward. His cock buries its way down Andrew's throat and he makes an appreciative sound as he pushes himself closer to try and get it just a bit deeper. Jean stays there, nothing but heavy breathing as he relishes in every gag his cock milks from Andrew's throat, before pulling back suddenly. All Andrew is afforded is a quick shout before cum is hitting his tongue and dripping onto the roof of his mouth. He pulls back and wraps his fingers around Jean's length, giving barely there squeezes as he fucks in and out of Andrew's fist and mouth and milks his orgasm.
Andrew tries not to feel too depressed when Jean pulls away, but his dick is quickly replaced. Jeremy is there to follow, short but oh so wonderfully thick. His mouth is watering, and he's about to swallow Jeremy whole, when he feels someone's rather fucking huge cock push its way inside his cunt. A thumb is rubbing against his dick as he arches his back. “Fucking Seth, you piece of shit–”
“God, you sound good whining my name like a pathetic little–”
“Finish that and I'll rip your dick off,” Andrew mutters. His threat doesn't live long, not after Seth laughs and thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt, and Andrew collapses against the cushion, seeing stars. He wants to scream when Seth pulls out almost as quick as he filled him up, but he's speaking before Andrew can fire off a threat.
“Roll over so I can prep you for Kevin, princess.”
“Seth–”
“Stop fighting, baby. Just do it, we know you secretly want to be good for us.”
Andrew sits up and reaches through the hole, taking hold of Seth's balls and giving them a less than pleasant squeeze. The fucking masochist doesn't do anything but moan high in the back of his throat and grab Andrew's wrist before taking a step closer.
“I should rip them off, right now.”
“But you won't,” Seth says, and Andrew hates that he can hear his smirk. “You're going to be a good boy and roll over so I can finger and fuck you while Jeremy gets your throat. Because you like it, don't you? And you want us to take care of you.”
Andrew scowls and gives Seth's balls another squeeze before he lets go and does switch to lay on his stomach. He tells himself he hates the appreciative wolf whistle he gets when Seth grabs his ass and gives it a squeeze, but any fight is fucked out of him with Seth's massive fucking dick filling him back up and rendering him mute. He hates how breathy his moans are, how each snap of Seth's hips earns him another, but damn if he isn't good at what he does. And Jeremy gently nudges the head of his cock against Andrew's lips. He parts them without a second thought, moans now muffled around the beautiful weight of a thick cock dragging across his tongue.
Back and forth, to and fro, slowly pushing towards the back of his throat. The first time he gags, Seth curses loudly and snaps his hips forward before grinding deep. “Jeremy, do that again. He's like a fucking vice.”
“Andrew?” Jeremy asks quietly.
Andrew huffs through his nose and hollows out his cheeks, encouraging Jeremy. A swish of his tongue against the underside is the surprise pleasure point the blond needs, because he moans in surprise and then snaps his hips forward. Andrew gags, and Seth makes a noise akin to something feral. His fingernails dig into the meat of Andrew's ass.
“Fucking perfect, you two. Good fucking boys.”
Andrew feels a little jealous at the feeling of Jeremy's dick twitching against his tongue from Seth's praise, but again, he isn't afforded the brain capacity to be upset. Seth is rubbing lubed fingers against his ass, then two plunge inside in tandem with his dick and Andrew is choking around Jeremy's cock as his eyes roll back in his head. His palms slam against the wall, desperate to latch onto someone.
“Fuck, Andrew. God, you feel so fucking good,” Seth mutters. He repeats the same movements a few times before he switches to fucking his fingers into Andrew's ass as he pulls out of his cunt. Never leaving him empty. Just how he likes it…
Jeremy is doing a fucking stellar job, too. The drag of his cock against Andrew's tongue, the stretch of his lips wrapped around his girth, is slowly replacing his brains with cotton. Every fuck in, whether his mouth, ass, or cunt, is driving him further down into a comfortable cloud of nothing.
He doesn't react as viscerally this time to Jeremy hitting the back of his throat, and this time it's the blond's turn to mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath as he fucks down Andrew's throat again and again. Nothing but a barely there gag and perfect wet heat is wrapped around his dick, and it's pure fucking heaven. Andrew still doesn't pay much mind to Seth adding a third finger to his ass, but he does moan happily at the stretch and push his hips back. It earns him a harsh thrust from Seth before he pulls out and moans Andrew's name shakily. Cum splatters across the backs of his thighs and he lets his eyes fall shut. Everything is falling into place. Kevin is massaging his ass now, fucking between his cheeks and dragging the head of his cock against his hole and Andrew shudders, hips bucking into the touch.
“F-Fuck…” Jeremy whimpers, and Andrew moans happily at the knowledge he's pulled a curse from him. He hollows his cheeks out again, lifting a hand to wrap his fingers around the base of Jeremy's cock and add that last layer of pleasure to send him hurtling over the edge. Cum hits the back of his throat as Jeremy's dick gives a few valiant twitches against his tongue before he's stepping back and gasping Andrew's name as the rest of his load lands on his tongue.
As Jeremy pulls out, Kevin fucks in and Andrew melts against the cushion, trying and failing to hold back a shaky whine as he's slowly filled up again. Neil's scarred fingers poke through the hole in the door and Andrew makes another truly pitiful sound as he sucks them into his mouth. Neil hums happily and pets over his tongue, the wall shifting as he rests his weight against it. “I don't think I've got an orgasm in me. Is that okay, Drew?”
Andrew whines low in the back of his throat, trying to chase after Neil's fingers when he removes them so he can reply. “ ‘s fine… gimme…”
“And if I can't get hard?” Neil asks, and though he's teasing, Andrew makes a truly pitiful sound at the thought.
“Careful,” Seth teases, his voice now on the same side as Neil's, “he might think you don't like him any more.”
Andrew whines quietly before reaching through the hole and aiming his middle finger where he thinks Seth is. He hears laughter and feels mildly proud of himself, but it doesn't last long because Kevin has decided he's had enough time to adjust.
“Wait,” Andrew gasps out. “Lemme– lemme get on my back.”
Neil is the only person who replies, but Kevin seems to be pouting through his movements as he slowly pulls out. Andrew takes a steadying breath before he slowly stands and turns around. His head is spinning, but in a comfortable way, and when he lays back down, every muscle that had been starting to cramp no longer hurt. Kevin, impatient as he was, didn't give Andrew much longer than that before he was spreading his ass, thumbs dipping down to massage his hole, and rubbing his cockhead at his entrance. “Andrew–”
“Fuck me, yeah,” he huffs out, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. Neil's cockhead brushes against his lips a few seconds later and Andrew makes a happy sound as he opens his mouth. He's half-hard, which is a treat for unplanned sex, and Andrew hums around his length, hoping to convey his gratitude.
Neil curses quietly from the other side of the wall, and the stall creaks as Andrew assumes he leans his entire weight against it to fuck as deep as he can at the moment. It's perfect for now, his somewhat soft cock slowly filling out as he fucks back and forth across Andrew’s tongue in short rolls of his hips. From there, as Kevin slowly fucks back into Andrew's replaces any higher brain function Andrew may have with his dick, he slips into a comfortable fog.
He doesn't pay much attention except to appreciate the feeling of being used, of being of service, of taking care of while being taken care of. Even when his body starts shaking, when the support beneath him is creaking from the force behind Kevin's thrusts, Andrew can only care to clench around the cock splitting him open. Between his legs feels like white-hot heat, fingers now fucking into his cunt, a thumb circling his dick. And then that heat is wet, he can only assume it's someone's mouth, and he's choking around Neil’s cock as he yells through his orgasm. Neil dips his fingers through the slight gap, pulling back so he isn't fucking down Andrew's throat and he can yell as Neil strokes his fingertips against his cheek and offers him quiet praise.
Kevin is silent, but he's fucking into Andrew at a break neck pace, his nails digging into his ass as he holds him open.
“A-Andrew–” Kevin finally gasps out, thighs shaking as he steps in closer and the fingers fucking into Andrew shift to shorter movements.
Jeremy's voice is quiet as he coos praise at Kevin, encouraging his orgasm. Andrew moans low in his throat, a tremor running down his own spine at some of the filth being spewed. “Kevin– fuck. C'mon, inside!” Andrew demands through gritted teeth. It seems to be the encouragement Kevin needs, because he manages a few more sloppy thrusts before burying in to the hilt.
The fingers buried in Andrew are removed before the unmistakable feeling of Kevin's trembling fingers are pressing inside. He strokes against Andrew's walls, hips grinding forward at the wrecked noise Andrew makes in response.
“Do you have another?” Kevin asks– pleads, his thumb even trembling as he trails it against the underside of Andrew's dick before rubbing against the sensitive tip. He doesn't expect a verbal response, thankfully, but Andrew answers in kind as he curls in on himself and hits his fist against the wall, trying desperately to gasp out Kevin's name, to praise him for his good behavior, but a third orgasm is rendering him mute and all he can do is fling his arms up to grab the top of the stall and hold on for dear life.
He's allowed a few seconds of mind-numbing bliss before the door clicks open and Neil steps inside, wrapping an arm around Andrew's waist to support him. “Relax, I've got you,” he says quietly, massaging the backs of Andrew's hands so he releases his grip and collapses into Neil. He laughs quietly at the absolutely pitiful sound Andrew can't help when Kevin pulls out of him. “Get the plug, Day. Give the princess what he wants.”
“You can't… not you, too,” Andrew huffs out, but there's the barest hint of a smile as he tucks his face in the curve of Neil’s neck.
“Mmm, I'd agree if you didn't turn redder just now, somehow,” Neil says, trying to whisper so Seth can't hear. It's futile, because the door creaks open and said asshole is on the other side looking smugger than he really deserves to be.
“Can I carry the princess to the showers?”
Neil grins at Andrews’s faux annoyed sound. But the blond still holds his arms out to Seth after Neil steps out of the way. “Jean already has the showers going so it's nice and steamy. Let's go.”
“Bossy,” Seth huffs as he scoops Andrew up bridal style, making sure to hold him close.
“Yeah, but, like…” Neil waves his hand dismissively. “Everyone likes it.”
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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago
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"The Untamed", but Jiggy has a white cat whom he tells everything.- May or may not be sentient or 'spiritual' like Fairy in the book. (From an idea I've thrown around with my friend @yraelviii)
ao3
He found the cat in Qinghe.
“What are you doing here?” Meng Yao said, crouching down to try to scoop out the little handful of white fluff underneath his cabinet only for it to bare its infantile fangs and him and hiss, moving its butt around as if it thought his fingers ought to be running in fear from its fearsome pounce. “How did you even get in here?”
The cat – a kitten, really, small and scrawny, dirty and covered in ashes as if it had just run out of a forge, but no less passionate for it – squirmed in his hand as he picked it up.
“Who owns you?” Meng Yao asked, and the cat hissed viciously as if to shout no one owns me!
Something about that echoed in Meng Yao’s heart – no one owns me, he thought – and so he fished up some extra meat from his plate, filled a small platter with water, and used the sleeve of an old outfit that needed to be taken to be laundered anyway to wipe the grey ash off of the cat’s white fur while it was distracted by sniffing suspiciously at the food and water that it ultimately declined to consume.
“Just this once,” he told it.
-
Doing good work will often only bring you more work, Meng Yao reflected, and so it was with the cat as much as with anything else. He still didn’t know how the cat managed to get into his rooms, and he sometimes dwelled on paranoid suspicions that there were hiding-holes in his chambers designed to allow others to spy on him, just as there had been in certain rooms in the brothel – though even at his worst moment of uncertainty and doubt he didn’t really think so. He knew that it wasn’t Nie Mingjue’s style even if Meng Yao had been someone important enough to care about, and anyway he didn’t question his own ability to discovery such a thing if it had really existed. He’d checked.
At any rate, however it kept getting into his rooms, the cat was now a regular presence there, lurking around.
It didn’t want to be petted and greeted all attempts to feed it with utter disdain, but despite its general standoffishness it seemed to like being in the same vicinity as Meng Yao, enjoying nothing more than to settle haughtily by the window in his room and watch over Meng Yao as if it thought he might get lost without its supervision.
Meng Yao thought it was probably someone’s pet gotten lost, or maybe even just a feral cat from outside (Qinghe had a fair number of them) that had figured out that it could access the good life by going inside, but it was very hard to sincerely worry over the ill-intentions of a cat, and he was already very busy.
If he didn’t need to care for it, then it wasn’t adding to his troubles. Let the cat sit where it liked!
Meng Yao had found that life in Qinghe was both different and similar to life in Yunping, the only life he had to compare it to, and it amused him to think of the great and righteous Nie sect as an overly large brothel, with the main difference being that they sold their strength where women sold their bodies. In both places there needed to be order, someone to sort things out and tell people where to put things and what to do; in both places Meng Yao, with his quick mind and excellent memory, his sense of understanding people and anticipating their needs, was utterly invaluable in arranging such things.
He had, admittedly, expected it to take a little more time to climb up to the top – the only person he couldn’t understand in this place was Nie Mingjue, who was far too easy to deceive and smiled at him like he really thought they were friends instead of just being master and servant, who appreciated his talents and told him so, who shrugged off his mistakes and had faith that he would do better, who ignored his status instead of lording it over him the way Meng Yao had expected him to. Even when he was angry, when he shouted and slammed his hands against things, Nie Mingjue never once mentioned Meng Yao’s background, and the only things he seemed to hold against him were his own mistakes.
Meng Yao still didn’t know why Nie Mingjue would act so rashly as to promote someone he had just met to a position as high as viceroy, much less actually trust him, but it didn’t really matter. However quixotic his method of reaching a place of power, he was here and his next task was to keep his place until he’d made a reputation for himself.
Part of that he did through his work, good critical work that people needed and which had always won him gratitude even if not respect, but the other part of it was in cultivation. That was the way in which the Nie sect was not like a brothel: you couldn’t just be clever, you couldn’t even just be beautiful - to be respected, you had to cultivate.
Not that wanting to cultivate was a problem for Meng Yao.
He’d always had a memory like a sponge and a body that obeyed his every wish, his childhood of mimicking the beautiful dances of his mother and her ‘sisters’ serving him well in transitioning to learning the sword even if he was years behind everyone else; his mother had bought a thousand fake cultivation manuals for him and he’d learned them all, each one of them more useless than the next, and now that he was here in the cultivation world at long last, he was finally, finally, finally able to cultivate for real.
Using Nie sect methods, of course, even if that wasn’t what he really wanted.  
He’d started as soon as he could when he arrived, endlessly grateful that the Nie sect provided training sabers without cost, and he’d snuck one away back to his room so that he could practice on his own time, knowing it would take a long time to form his golden core. He’d debated with himself for a long time as to whether or not it was worth it to invest in a real one – if the training sabers were free, then real proper Nie sabers were somehow three times as expensive as the swords you could buy in the marketplace, and you could only put in a deposit without any notion of when you’d actually get the saber, apparently subject to the contrary dispositions of the spiritual weaponsmiths that made them.
In the end he decided to go for it more or less on a whim, emptying out his hard-built savings to place the order, even though he knew he would one day need to discard whatever they made for him in favor of a sword.
The Jin sect would accept him one day. He would make them.
(If the Nie sect cultivation style was good for one thing, he thought as he went through endless drills of slashing and thrusting, it was that you could work out your anger while you were doing it. There was nothing quite like imagining the face of someone you hated and then bringing down the practice saber in a vicious slash, and oh, but Meng Yao hated so very many people.)
The cat liked watching him train most of all, although Meng Yao suspected it was because seeing him jump around panting was funnier than watching him sit at his desk and gracefully write out letters. It would occasionally start purring, a sound a little like a crackling fire, and eventually Meng Yao got into the habit of going to run his fingers through its fur as a reward for himself when he successfully completed a training sequence.
After a while, he started talking to it, too.
“That commander,” Meng Yao said as he brought the training saber down. His real saber was still on the order, probably stalled purposefully; the smith assigned the task was probably one of the people that thought they were too good to deal with him because of who his mother was, and it’d all been a waste of money in the end. Completely a waste, even if Nie Mingjue had smiled so happily at him when he’d heard about Meng Yao placing the order, his eyes warm and soft and how had that man survived so long in this wretched world of politics and pain, didn’t he know he would always be deceived and betrayed?
Why should he be the exception to the rule, when everyone else had to suffer?
Meng Yao threw away the unhelpful thoughts and thrust the saber forward, as if piercing his invisible opponent straight through the chest.
“That commander.” He minutely corrected his form and stabbed again, this time as if piercing through the belly: a gut wound, a slow and awful way to die. “He’ll regret what he said to me.”
The cat’s purring intensified.
Meng Yao briefly had the wild thought that it approved.
“I just –” Another thrust. “– need to figure out –” An overhead slash. “– how.”
-
Meng Yao ended up taking the cat with him when he left Qinghe.
It probably was someone’s pet and he was opening himself up to a charge of stealing, a charge he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against now that he no longer had Nie Mingjue’s protection –
(Nie Mingjue who had wept tears and blood at what Meng Yao had done, betrayed at last after having finally encountered a deception he could not swallow, who had banished him from the Unclean Realm even after everything Meng Yao had done for him – who had, despite it all, still hidden an entire bag of gold and Meng Yao’s favorite Qinghe snacks in Meng Yao’s things with a short note claiming that it was for unpaid wages. As if Meng Yao had ever let a single pay period go by without claiming exactly what he was due. As if Nie Mingjue still cared despite throwing him out, as if he worried about how Meng Yao might live, as if he hadn’t given up the privilege of caring about things like that – )
He didn’t really care.
He wanted the cat, so he took it. It was the least Qinghe could do for him.
The cat spent all its time in his new rooms in the hotels he stayed out as he traveled: in his bedroom and study, the little gardens that, when available, he liked to use to train in the mornings and evenings. It would even follow him when he took a bath (although that was with great reluctance on the part of the cat, and only if Meng Yao were taking an especially long time in the bath and the cat was worried he’d drowned, yowling angrily as if it could revive him through the power of its voice). If it had once belonged to someone else, it now belonged to Meng Yao, and Meng Yao didn’t give away anything that was his.
“I’ve made worse mistakes,” he said defiantly to the cat, which blinked at him from its side of the carriage he’d used some of the gold to rent. “It’s only that I don’t want to review them in order to think of which ones those might be.”
The cat got up, stretched its back, and walked over to butt its head against Meng Yao’s hand before turning and going back to its spot by the window.
Meng Yao wasn’t sure if that was a sign of agreement or if the cat just thought there was a treat in his hand. Not that the cat had ever accepted treats from his hand.
He still wasn’t sure what the cat ate, actually, but he was sure the cat would make its feelings known now that they weren’t somewhere with a dependable kitchen, though he supposed there was always the possibility that it would start picking up hunting.
“Wen Chao said that they’d aimed at the Cloud Recesses,” Meng Yao said, deciding not to dwell on the things of the past. There was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do about Nie Mingjue’s betrayed eyes or the snacks he hadn’t even known Nie Mingjue had known he’d liked, about the hand-me-down guans and trinkets that Nie Huaisang had insisted were part of his wardrobe when he’d helped him pack even though he knew Nie Huaisang still wore them sometimes, about the fact that he should have been ordered to take the Nie sect’s braids out of his hair when he passed by the gates for the final time since he didn’t deserve them anymore but the two disciples there had just nodded at him and let him pass without a word – nothing to do about the saber he’d ordered, still on the list to be made, and maybe if he made something of himself out in the world alone he would one day come back to claim it at last. “That’s where we’re going now. Lan Xichen might be in danger. I have to help him.”
The cat made a sound like it was considering hacking up a hairball.
“He was kind to me,” Meng Yao said, feeling defensive. “The only one who never judged me –”
Since he’d decided to forget about Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, wiping it out of his mind as if it had never been, that was even true.
“– and he’s a proper gentleman, a good man. I’ll help him.”
That Lan Xichen was also a powerful man was something he wished he didn’t think of, but he couldn’t help the way he was.
“After I help him, I’ll figure out what to do next,” Meng Yao said, like a liar, and the cat looked at him like he was stupid – which he was being, because of course he’d already planned out what to do next, figured out his next move, and there was no point in lying to a cat about it. Meng Yao had skills that were only useful in management, not labor, and the only thing he left to sell was information about the sect from which he’d just been ejected. “No one owns me, right? Let it be the Wen sect.”
The cat did not purr, but it didn’t condemn him, either.
That would have to do.
-
It was a good thing that Meng Yao’s cat was self-sufficient, he thought, because he had neither the time nor the stomach to feed it during his time at the Wen sect.
If he had thought he had worked hard at the Nie sect, he now knew differently: at least there the worst he had faced from his colleagues had been disdain and not outright murder attempts, back-stabbing and undercutting to try to show off to Wen Ruohan, and all the while the man himself demanded more and more from him without the slightest care for his own well-being. He was grist to the mill for Wen Ruohan, no matter how much the Chief Cultivator enjoyed having another man’s prized deputy as his own – Wen Ruohan might had been very nearly driven insane by the Yin Metal, but he still remembered old grudges – and it was night and day away from Nie Mingjue’s reliance on him that was based on trust, rather than reluctantly satisfied suspicion and paranoia.
Meng Yao had hidden the cat as best as he could from the start, thinking rightfully that people would try to use it against him, and to his relief it seemed that no one else had yet laid eyes on it and identified it as his own, despite its white fur standing out like a beacon to his sight. Unfortunately there were some people that had managed to figure out that he had a cat, even if they didn’t lay eyes on it themselves, and he’d had more than a few incidents in which someone had left poisoned meat out on the floor by his room in order to catch it.
The cat seemed as unimpressed with that as anything else.
Instead, the cat seemed to have taken up hunting as its pastime. It brought back the corpses of small birds, the Yin Metal-infused little spies, full of resentful energy, that Wen Ruohan had developed for his sons to use. At first Meng Yao worried about the cat getting somehow poisoned by them, but time went on and it seemed to be fine, even thriving. It had grown into a proper cat now, no longer a kitten, and it enjoyed licking its white and shining fur until it was gleaming.
It didn’t like Meng Yao’s training sessions as much – he trained with a sword now, two-faced just like him, and in a dozen different styles, Wen and Jiang and Jin, always Jin – so sometimes Meng Yao would go back to doing the old Nie sect style again, knowing the cat would recognize the familiar movements, and it was a surefire way to get the cat to purr.
The Nie sect style was also still the best for getting out anger, all aggression and sharp movements, and Meng Yao still had a lot of anger inside of him. He was starting to think he always would.
At least here in the Nightless City he could kill the people he hated, as long as he did so in low and dirty ways that didn’t trouble Wen Ruohan or interfere with his plans, and yet every time he did it, he felt no relief, only a vile and wretched stickiness that came, perhaps, from that awful Yin Metal that he had schemed over yet couldn’t seem to escape.
The cat didn’t like the Yin Metal one bit. It hissed and scratched, and in one notable incident seemed like it was going to pounce on it directly if Meng Yao hadn’t caught it mid-leap and shoved it into his sleeve before anyone had noticed it.
“You’re going to get me into trouble,” Meng Yao told the cat next time he trained, using the soft sword he’d hidden away for a time of need to hack and slash in the Nie way, which didn’t work with a soft sword at all but which made him feel strangely better. He was currently imagining Wen Ruohan’s head underneath a saber, his head and the heads of all those corpse puppets he’d created. “I will cut you loose if you do that.”
The cat rolled onto its back and showed its soft and fluffy belly, which only the truly unwise would seek to lay a hand on – Meng Yao still had scars – and Meng Yao rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “No one owns you, not even me. But do me a favor and don’t screw this up for me. Not when I’m so close.”
Lan Xichen had been accepting his letters and feeding them to Nie Mingjue, who trusted as blindly as he ever did. Meng Yao wished sometimes that he didn’t, that he would learn, that he would put some defenses up on that stupid reckless heart of his, but on the other hand it suited his plans very well that he didn’t.
Soon, he thought. Soon.
Soon he’d know what he needed to do.
-
“Now he chooses not to trust people,” Meng Yao complained to his cat. “Now. Now!”
The cat purred.
It wasn’t that Meng Yao (damnit, Jin Guangyao, he had a new name, he was Jin Guangyao now) couldn’t understand Nie Mingjue’s reluctance to trust him – fool me once, fool me twice, but three times seemed to be the other man’s breaking point – and in some ways he understood it more than ever now that he had been accepted back by the Jin sect, clothed in the gold he’d always deserved to wear.
Jin Guangshan hadn’t lost much in the war, not like the other sects, and the second it was over he was already scheming. Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – was pulled right into the thick of it at once, less for his spying capability than for his sheer disposability, the fact that Jin Guangshan wasn’t willing to burden his pure and righteous heir with black matters that he was more than happy to taint the son of his whore with. With Nie Mingjue, general and hero of the Sunshot Campaign, representing the only real threat to the Jin sect’s domination, even if he didn’t want to be, Jin Guangyao was bound to be in opposition to him.
It made sense for Nie Mingjue not to trust him.
It irritated him regardless.
Still, lack of trust or no, Nie Mingjue had succumbed to Lan Xichen’s impassioned arguments and had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, even if Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue’s primary motivation was to keep a better eye on him and scold him the way he did Nie Huaisang. It would be politically beneficial to Jin Guangyao to be tied in such a way to Nie Mingjue – it would suit his own desires as well, though that was less important – and so he had of course agreed as well, and he was planning on going to their oath ceremony in the outfit he had chosen for himself, gold from neck to foot, a sword he’d taken from the treasury since no one would order him one of his own, and a hat on his head like the ones his mother so admired to make up for his lack of height and to hide the Nie sect braids he still habitually wore underneath.
An old habit, and one he really ought to break, really. Ideally before Nie Mingjue figured it out and told him to cut it out.
There was a knock on the door, a familiar pounding, and the cat looked up, intrigued, even as Jin Guangyao sighed voicelessly to himself. Perhaps he had waited too long.
Perhaps it would be better to make a clean cut in this way, too.
He opened the door.
“Sect Leader Nie,” he greeted, thinking to himself that it would only be a few more hours before he was entitled to call the man da-ge as if they were nearly equals and how strange that would be. “Can this humble one help you?”
“Can I come in?” Nie Mingjue asked gruffly, his eyes lingering on Jin Guangyao’s uncovered and Nie-braided hair, just as he might have expected. Had expected.
Jin Guangyao nodded and stepped back, allowing him in, and closed the door behind him. “Could I get the sect leader some refreshments?” he asked politely, but Nie Mingjue seemed to have come to a stop right in the entranceway, surprise written all over his features. “Sect Leader Nie?”
Nie Mingjue was staring at Jin Guangyao’s cat.
“…Sect Leader Nie?”
Did Nie Mingjue not like cats? There were an endless number of feral cats in Qinghe, so it seemed implausible, and yet, here Nie Mingjue was, looking at the cat like he’d never seen such a thing before in its life.
Of course, at that exact moment, Jin Guangyao’s cat, the traitor, hopped off its pillow and went straight to rub itself against Nie Mingjue’s leg, purring like a little maniac.
Jin Guangyao stared at it, feeling thoroughly betrayed by what he would have previously said was his thoroughly unsociable cat, who had taken years to warm up to him enough to give him half the attention it was now bestowing freely on Nie Mingjue. Was this the heavens deciding to mock him for his earlier betrayals?
Alternatively, Nie Mingjue might just be very good with cats, which Jin Guangyao could believe. Perhaps he even carried in his pockets some of the Qinghe vine that cats were said to be so enamored of, although certainly Meng Yao’s cat had never once before shown an interest in such things before.
“…what’s its name?” Nie Mingjue croaked, voice hoarse. He was still staring fixedly at the cat, looking as though his entire world had shattered around him. He hadn’t even looked so unsettled when Jin Guangyao had so viciously mocked him at the Nightless City, and at the time he’d thought he was going to die and be turned into a corpse puppet to murder all his loved ones.
Jin Guangyao was tempted to say something rude or facetious, something like ‘I just call it Cat, why, do you name random cats?’, but the cat had been a good companion of his for a long time now and he couldn’t do that to it, even if he was currently planning on taking an extra long bath to force the cat to miserably linger by the door to the bathing room, screeching in unhappiness at the wet, but bravely (if grumpily) supervising him to make sure he didn’t drown.
“Hensheng,” he said, because that was in fact what he’d named it – it meant hatred for life, which was not exactly an auspicious name but which had stuck from the very moment he had thought it up – and waited to hear Nie Mingjue’s judgment. “It’s not normally quite so sticky,” he added in an attempt to save some face. “With most people.”
“Well, it’s me, that’s different,” Nie Mingjue said, and maybe the man really was just the human incarnation of the plant cats liked so much. Meng Yao really wouldn’t put it past him. “You...you cultivate in the Nie sect style? Still?”
Jin Guangyao blinked, surprised by the change in subject.
“Yes,” he said, a little hesitantly. He cultivated many styles now, although it was always the Jin sect style when he was in public. But he still had all the anger in his belly to vent – even more so now than before, anger at his father, anger at Madame Jin, anger at his brother born to a blessed life, anger at all those disciples that sneered at him even after he’d been legitimized, anger, anger, anger – and the Nie sect style had always been the best for that.
And anyway, it made the cat purr.
“Is that a problem, Sect Leader Nie?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Nie Mingjue said, and when he turned to look at him his eyes were warm and soft the way they’d been all the way before the fiasco with Xue Yang, shimmering with tears of joy and a smile that seemed to come straight from his heart, the foolish easily deceived man. It was so unexpected that Jin Guangyao actually took a full two steps back, his jaw dropping a little. “I’m happy for you. Very happy.”
He actually wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, dashing away the tears.
“You should come back to the Unclean Realm to pick it up when the brotherhood ceremony is done,” he added nonsensically. “I can’t imagine how long it’s been waiting for you.”
“…what?” Jin Guangyao said. “Pick up what?”
“Hensheng,” Nie Mingjue said, which – what? “Your saber. Hensheng.”
His saber?
The saber he’d never gotten, having been banished from the Unclean Realm before the order was finished, the one he’d spent all his savings on just in putting in the deposit, the one he’d never actually finished paying off? He remembered it, of course, and sometimes it still itched under his skin that he’d never gotten what he was owed because everything that was owed to him he deserved to get in the end. But…
“Hensheng is my cat,” he said.
Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “That’s not a cat,” he said. “That’s a saber spirit.”
Jin Guangyao’s gaze dropped down to the cat.
The cat that never seemed to eat anything or drink anything, that never once fell for the poisoned meat or accepted his offers of treats, that no one in the Nightless City had ever seen with their own eyes; the cat that could consistently get into his rooms despite there being no holes for it to enter, as if it had simply passed through the walls like a ghost.
Like a spirit.
The cat, which purred whenever Jin Guangyao practiced the Nie sect forms, swinging a saber with rage in his heart.
The cat to which he had confessed all his anger, all his frustration, all his rage, all the feelings he never gave to any human being around him – the sabers of the Nie sect thrived on such emotions, those feelings that encouraged them and strengthened them, developing the saber spirits that made each one of them a spiritual weapon unlike any other, with power and rage infused into the very blade.
Saber spirits, which only those born into the Nie sect or adopted early, raised in their ways, one of them, could form.
“A saber spirit?” Jin Guangyao said weakly, and his knees suddenly didn’t seem strong enough to hold him; he swayed and Nie Mingjue stepped forward quickly, catching him by the shoulders to steady him. “I cultivated a saber spirit?”
“The saber is back in the Unclean Realm,” Nie Mingjue said, not without kindness. “It was only ever waiting for you to pick it up once you developed the spirit, so that you could introduce the two.”
“It hasn’t been – I would have thought it would have been thrown away, or repurposed –”
“It’s a Nie saber, Meng Yao. It won’t obey anyone else ever again, not in this life; it is yours, yours alone. When one day you die, it will be buried with honor in our saber halls, just like all the others.”
The cat looked up at him and purred.
No one owns me, Jin Guangyao thought – the first thing the cat had said to him, and he’d always had a good understanding of what the cat wanted from the very first. No one had owned that wild spirit then, but it had stayed by his side, at first from curiosity and later from habit, and it was his now.
His, and no one else’s.
“Will you come pick it up?” Nie Mingjue asked, hope in his eyes. “Will you come home, if only for a little while?”
“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said. “Yes, I will.”
-
Later, Jin Guangshan told his son to kill Nie Mingjue, that fool who trusted too much and didn’t know when he was being deceived, finding him in his rigidity and righteousness too much of a burden on the power he planned to wield.
Jin Guangyao bowed as deep as he could, a smile on his lips, saying nothing, and the next day, when Jin Guangshan went to the brothel as he always did, drinking tea served by his son the way he always did, he never did figure out why his heart had stopped.
(The saber Jin Guangyao began to wear openly after the funeral – a gift from his sworn brother, he said with a smile, in remembrance of his time at the Nie sect – purred in pure satisfaction.)
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thunderthighs77 · 4 years ago
Text
Tendou and Semi Cuckold Part 1
**Part 2** IF THE LINK DOES NOT WORK, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. PART 2 CAN BE FOUND ON MY PAGE RIGHT NOW ANYWAY  
CW/TW for Pt. 1: Fem Reader x Tendou + Semi, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mentions of weed, cursing, vaginal play, smoking weed.
Y/N comes home from college to her bf’s house. He’s rooming with Semi, who’s always had eyes for Y/N. That doesn’t bother Tendou. In fact, it excites him...
(Basically, Tendou is lead dom here)
CW/TW for BOTH PARTS: Fem Reader x Tendou + Semi, spit roast (tag team), double penetration, voyeurism, exhibitionism, vaginal/anal play, shotgunning, (smoke), oral sex (giving), mentions of weed, cursing, pussy rubbing?, whining, creampie, praise/degradation kink.
18+ MINORS DNI
You were so fed up with midterms. 5 exams this week. 5 e x a m s. You just wanted to go home and get away from this fucking campus. You left your class and checked back into your dorm to empty out your book bag of notebooks onto the floor.
You pack a few clothes and your wallet. Your roommate had left for the weekend to her girlfriend’s house and so, you locked the door and left. You took the 11 up west to where you lived and walked home with your headphones on. 
You stopped in front of a mini market and figured your parents hadn’t cooked dinner since they worked nights. It was already evening time, so you decided “what the hell.” You walked in and walked out with some instant ramen, a bag of jerky, and a Reeses, Tendou’s favorite candy. 
Speak of the devil, your phone buzzed. It was Tendou asking if your midterms went well.
“They were fine. Thanks for asking, babe. I’m home rn” You typed as you bit a chunk out of the piece of meat. 
“Ooo. Want me to pick you up tonight?”, he texted. 
You were really close to home. The market was just down the street. As you made it to your front gate, you saw a note at the front that said, “Gone for the weekend. Say hi to Tendou from us if you decide to stay over.” 
“Say less!” You shout happily. 
“No, I’m heading over rn,” you type quickly. Tendou was also nearby your house. You walked down the quiet neighborhood as you ate your jerky and listened to your vaporwave. It was rarely a nice day in March; a good 68 degrees. Odd in the early spring where you lived, but a nice change from the dreadful winter you had suffered during the fall semester. 
You knocked at the front door and was greeted by a tall blonde face you recognized from your boyfriend’s high school volleyball team. He has on some black sweats and a white tank. He opened the door while his head was turned to the side, completely focused on the volleyball game on t.v. “Hey, Y/N,” he said as he just turned his head for a second before it swung back the side to focus on the t.v. He stepped aside as you walked past him. 
You walked in to the faint smell of weed, smoked probably a few hours ago. You set the grocery back down and hung your jacket at the front. The house was dark. It was 6:43 pm to be fair, the sun had almost fully disappeared. The tv’s glare and Tendou’s computer screen were the only source of light at the moment. 
You walked to where Tendou was sitting. Shirtless and in some grey sweats, he was shouting in his headset. “Come on, you motherfucker! He’s right there!”, he shouted as he pointed to the computer screen at his game. He felt your warm hug around him and he looked back and leaned into your kiss. 
“Hey baby,” he said. He turned back and yelled to the set again, “Come on, you dick! Oh my fucking-” 
You chuckled and backed away to let him continue playing. Semi was on the couch and glued to the game on the tv. His knees were spread and you climbed over to sit down on the other side of the couch. Your passing did not faze him at all. He kept his focus on the game. “Yes!”, Semi shouted as the whistle blew on the tv. It was some random college game. You sighed and scrolled through your phone. 
The coffee table in front of the tv was messy. An ashtray of burnt out cigarettes and blunts, leaves of weed sprinkled throughout, and empty beer and redbull cans. Keys, wallets, a few bills here and there, and a charging PS4 controller. 
You shut off your phone and asked. “Can we order some takeout?” You figure the 2 packets of ramen weren’t enough to feed all three of you, and you knew Tendou nor Semi couldn't cook, or even have food in the fridge, except for drinks and the occasional condiment or two. 
Tendou sighed in relief at the screen as “YOU WON” appeared in green and he took his headset. “Sure, babe,” he said as he held the power button to shut off the computer. “Semi, do you mind takeout?”, Tendou asked. Semi shook his head no. You walk over to the kitchen and try to find a menu. “That place over on 5th is really good,” you shout back to them. 
You get no response as you burrow through Tendou’s messy kitchen drawers. You can’t find any takeout menu as you look through them. “Babe?”, you call out. “What?”, Tendou calls out from the living room. “Where are the take out menus? They’re not in the kitchen.” 
“Check the bedroom, hun,” Tendou said. You swish your lips as your stomach growls. That jerky wasn't enough to hold you. You hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Exams ran through your lunch period so you were starved the whole day. You look through Tendou’s room and into his closet to find a pile of menus. “What the hell are these doing here?”, you ask yourself. 
You get a pile of your favorite restaurants’ takeout menus and flip through them, trying to find your favorite one. Suddenly, you felt a finger slide right between your folds and you yelp. Tendou wrapped his elbow right on top of your breasts and held you in a choke hold. He continued to slide his finger in between your folds on the outskirts of your tights, and then two fingers. 
You bite your lips and roll your eyes back. Tendou chuckles and sinks his kisses right under your ear. You close your thighs, tightening his fingers and making him rub your clit more. You bend your knees and grind against his groin, him following the motion and grinding back with you.
It has been 3 months without sex since winter break. No orgasm whatsoever. You couldn’t even touch yourself in the dorms. Senior year was brutal with classes and internships. You were just exhausted and starved. Tendou let go of his chokehold and cupped one of your breasts. “Jesusss,” he hissed and he kissed your cheeks and squeezed it. 
“Tendou,” you let out in a breathy moan. “We gotta...eat…” You could barely form a sentence. “I missed you so much, baby,” Tendou says in your ear. His fingers are going ham in between your folds. He stops and pulls you by your arm and pins them behind your back with one hand while he bends you over the dresser. Your tights were thin, and therefore, made your pussy easy access. 
Tendou took his index, middle, and ring fingers and rubbed your pussy from the back. You let out a few tiny moans and close your eyes at the feeling. You quiver and throw your head back. 
“Where is my charger?” Semi asked himself as he looked around the outlets in the living room. “Ah shit!” He realized it’s in Tendou’s bedroom since he needed it last night. Semi walked over only to stop at the door. It was slightly cracked open and he heard moans. He figured you and Tendou needed some alone time. 
Semi turned away and wanted to wait until you two were finished. “Ahhh fuuuck!”, you shouted in such a pretty whine. Semi paused in his steps. He looked to the side and sighed. “Just a peek,” he told himself. He turned back and looked into the door. The tent in his pants was pitched just from your moan. 
Lord, were you a sight. He knew you were his best friend’s girl...but damn...you can’t blame him. You were just his type, and you were always over during winter break. He could hear your moans all the time. And he didn’t mind. You were fun to listen to. He always jerked off to your moans at night. And whenever he had sex with his one night stands, your vision was what he saw sometimes. It haunted him. He felt so guilty being Tendou’s friend knowing he had such thoughts. 
“HAHAHAHA!” Tendou let out a belly laugh as he threw his head back when Semi opened up to his best friend about his guilty conscience. Tendou took an inhale of his blunt and blew it out with another slight chuckle and a sigh. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious, man. I feel awful. And I’m so sorry,” Semi said sentimentally. Tendou shook his head and smiled. 
“You don’t get it, do you?” Tendou asked. Semi made a confused face. Tendou smiled and scratched his forehead with his blunt still in his hand. “You see….” he began as he leaned in. “I like to...how do I say this…” he paused as he began to think his words carefully.
“I know my girl is hot, Semi. I know guys look at her all the time. I don’t worry, though. In fact, it’s kind of hot to think everyone wants her, but only I get to have her.” Tendou wasn’t wrong. Every event you came to for their high school, like a volleyball meet or an elegant sports dinner, a lot of guys were over you. Not to mention, Tendou always asked for you to wear tight cocktail dresses or ones that showed off your tits or ass a little. He got off on guys eyeing you as you walked in. 
He watched from a distance as guys would ask you, “Can I buy you a drink?” “Can I hold your coat?” “Can I get your number?” Nothing dangerous or unwelcomed, of course. Both you and Tendou liked the attention. And Tendou was always there to make sure everything went well, as he swooped you in last minute and gave you a deep kiss in front of all the guys, making them sigh in despair as they knew you were taken.
Tendou smiled as he watched Semi’s mouth gaped in confusion. “I still don’t get it. You’re not mad at me?” Tendou shook his head as he inhaled his blunt. Semi began to stutter; “But...but...but I imagine Y/n-”
“Don’t you get it?”, Tendou said as he cut him off and leaned in. “It turns me on, Semi. I get hard thinking someone likes Y/n.” Smoke escaped Tendou’s nostrils as he smirked. Semi backed away, almost disgusted.
 “How?”, he asked, horrified. Tendou leaned back into his chair and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just hot. I know she’ll always be mine. But, I always had a fetish of her fucking someone in front of me. Or at least a threesome, you know? What’s that shit called?” 
“Cuckolding?”, Semi asked. “That’s it!”, Tendou shouted joyfully at Semi recalling the word he forgot. 
Semi shook his head at the past conversation he had with Tendou. He was leaking pre cum from his pants as he watched you quiver at Tendou’s hands. “Se-Semiiii!“, you let out whined. “Ah fuck,” Semi whispers as he grabs his hardened crotch. 
“What’s that, baby?”, Tendou asked as he leaned in your ear. “Se-Semi might hear,” you whine as you furrow your eyebrows and close your eyes at Tendou’s pace. Tendou smirks and looks up in the mirror and at the doorway. He sees a figure moving in the lit hallway. He forms a cheshire grin. 
Semi freezes in fear, but then realizes Tendou is probably loving this. Tendou smiles in the mirror while glaring at Semi and rubs your pussy faster. You quiver and release yourself from Tendou’s grasp and grip the sides of the dresser. Your head is pressed down by Tendou’s hand and you tremble from your orgasm creeping on you. 
You beg and ask for permission. “Oh god! Pleaseeee! Please, sir! Please!” Semi is pulling on his crotch outside the door, thanking Tendou telepathically for leaving a slight crack in the door to peek at this show. Semi was full on hard, and he whipped his cock out and stroked it as he watched you melt in Tendou’s hands.
Tendou suddenly pulled away at your dismay. “Fuck!”, you yell out. “No,” Tendou said sternly as he smiled. Semi realized Tendou had just edged the both of you. Tendou’s fingers were pruned, and a bit sticky from your wet pussy. Your juices had leaked through your thin panties and tights, and onto his fingers. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and caught a whiff of your heat he had just violated. 
You slide down to the floor and breathe heavily. Your clit was pulsating, beating rapidly, like a heartbeat. Your hair was a mess and your face was flushed red. Tendou knelt down to your height and kissed you. “Nice to have you home, baby.” You smile and let out sighs before you see a shadow move in the hallway. You gasp as Semi suddenly disappears. Tendou looks back and smiles. He stands back over you and lends a hand to help you stand up. 
“The menu was on top of the fridge, baby. “ You smiled gently as you exited the bedroom first and entered the hallway into the living room. Semi was on the couch with a pillow on his lap and scrolling mindlessly through his phone. Tendou was on the phone while you sat down next to Semi. You looked over at his flushed face. How cute. 
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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years ago
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Don’t Look! [Part 4]
<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->
Frederick Chilton x Reader
@we-are-all-just-a-bit-crazy’s lovecraftian horror AU, with a bit of my own twist on the origin story. Emotional hurt/comfort. Body horror. Hugging your body-horror monster boyfriend. 
3,386 words
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Once upon a time, there lived a man who had everything: great wealth (built on the backs of exploited workers), a grand estate, a beautiful wife, and many mistresses waiting in the wings. Yet after years of trying, he failed to produce an heir. Determined that his money could buy anything, the man scoured the world, searching for a solution. One day, his extensive resources brought him to an ancient castle in Lithuania, where the last descendants of a noble bloodline offered him a devil’s bargain—a book, a summoning ritual. He did not ask questions. His wife was finally with child.
The Chilton legacy was secure.
The moment Frederick was born, the life was sucked from his mother—a human sacrifice for his soul crossing into this world. That was what his father told him, at least. Frederick had no memory of clawing his way through the veil between worlds, of being anything other than an ordinary child with a distant father, a young, blonde stepmother, and nannies instead of friends. Until the changes began. Allison (or was it Kayla at the time?) fainted in the living room when he staggered in, screaming as smoke boiled from his skin, begging for help. His father only wrinkled his nose with disgust and calmly explained what he was.
“You must learn to hide this, Frederick. Never let anyone see you this way, or it will destroy the family name.”
And so, he learned the transformation’s schedule. Prepared for it. Knew how to hide it away and never let anyone get close enough to see the real him. But it wasn’t good enough. Try as he might, nothing Frederick ever did met his father’s expectations for the perfect son he had gone through so much trouble to produce.
Frederick grew into a bitter and lonely man with no one to care about, or who cared about him. He kept the world at a distance, hiding his shame behind expensive suits and lavish decoration.
Never once did he consider that he was not alone in this world at all.
 ***
I see him as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals. They feed it, keep it warm, but they don’t put it on the machines. They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal. Nobody can tell what he is.
This is how Will Graham describes the Chesapeake Ripper.
Every therapy session with Graham, every conversation overhead, the puzzle became clearer. At first, Chilton merely believed that Dr. Lecter was guilty of unethical practices—manipulating Mr. Graham in the same way he had manipulated Gideon. He felt such kinship with Hannibal. Learning a bit of dirt on him brought the ever-so-superior doctor down to his level, gave him something to lord over him—a little implied blackmail to strengthen their friendship.
They both had secrets to hide.
Dr. Chilton never would have guessed the final puzzle piece to convince him fully that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper would be the one everyone else laughed at.
“I brought you here to bear witness,” Graham said to Gideon through their adjoining cells.
“To tell Jack Crawford that I sat in Hannibal Lecter’s cobalt blue dining room? An ostentatious herb garden, Leda and the Swan over the fireplace. And you, having a fit in the corner.”
Chilton perked up and quickly shared the audio feed to one of the junior therapists assisting him. You were reliable at editing his audio files, clipping and exporting segments he wanted to keep, but he was avoiding you at the moment. This was proof—irrefutable proof that Gideon had met Hannibal Lecter the night he went searching for the Ripper.
After his conversation with Graham concluded, an assistant was sent down to coax more information from him while Chilton’s research team listened in, keenly taking notes.
Gideon was not finished dropping bombshells.
With a casual lilt to his voice as if talking to a friend over dinner, he began to describe the Chesapeake Ripper. Skin like volcanic ash, reflecting no light. A red glow to his eyes. Black claws as long as steak knives. Antlers breaking through the inside of his skull, punching through the skin. All black as night—a form that shifted in the shadows, ever tricking the eye, unwilling to be known.
He’s the Devil, Mr. Graham. He’s smoke.
“Great. Gideon is delusional,” one therapist snorted. “On the bright side, this completely undercuts his malpractice case against you.” She patted Chilton’s shoulder. Chilton flinched.
“We should start him on antipsychotics. What do you think? Doctor?”
Chilton’s face turned ashen white. “Y-yes, certainly,” he muttered, staggering to his feet.
He moved for the door, but crumbled halfway there, pain ripping through his leg as sharp thorns grew beneath the skin. It was daylight. No. No! The transformation should not be starting for hours—he had plenty of time! He gasped out as another shock tore through him, barely containing a cry. His body convulsed.
“Doctor!” A therapist and a guard rushed in to help him to his feet. “Where does it hurt? If this is a complication from your surgery, we need to get you into intensive care right away.”
“No,” he brushed them off. “Only… psychosomatic. I need to— ah!” He gritted his teeth, mind racing to the one person he did not want to turn to, but the only one he could, and barked, “Get my secretary!”
 ***
Smoke was rising off of his burning skin by the time you rushed into Chilton’s vacated office. His eyes were wide with panic, but greeted you when you entered with—not relief, perhaps, because he was every bit as terrified as before, but with the anticipation of being rescued. His eyes pleaded.
“H-help. I cannot make it stop.”
You managed to get him into your car. The sun’s orange rays seemed to chase the beast away, clearing his skin and stopping his wracking convulsions long enough to cross the employee parking lot without drawing stares. He insisted on taking the back seat so he could hide—and to put more distance between you in case he lost control.
His chest rose and fell like a rabbit in a cat’s mouth.
“The way he described Dr. Lecter—anyone would think it was a metaphor! That he was crazy!” Chilton’s breath was raspy as you drove, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. He kept trembling, small patches of scaly skin appearing at random then swirling back inside. One pupil was a pinprick. His tongue occasionally became serpentine and got in the way as he frantically spoke. “But it was too specific, the details. Familiar. I always knew there was a connection between Dr. Lecter and me—a reason we were friends. It all makes sense now!”
“Hey, it’s OK,” you said, trying to sound soothing, though you had no idea what he was talking about.
“Don’t you understand? Lecter is like me!”
“That’s good, isn’t it? That means you’re not alone.”
“Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper!” he shouted, and a spine tore through a seat cushion. “A cannibal, if Will Graham is to be believed, and loathe as I am to admit it, Graham is an excellent profiler. If the Ripper and I are the same… then that means I—”
“You are nothing like that!” Forgetting the damage his demonic tantrum was doing to your faux-leather interior, you had faith in him. He was a little withdrawn and more than a little vain, and it had garnered him an icy reputation around the hospital, but now you understood why. He wasn’t evil or malicious. He was frightened.
“God help me,” he murmured.
 ***
As soon as the garage door closed behind you, he scrambled from the car (scratching the handle), and retreated inside. He didn’t invite you to follow him home. But he didn’t forbid it, either, and you wanted to be there. All you had were panic-scrambled memories from the first time that made his transformation worse in hindsight than it was. Or maybe better. You didn’t know, and you wouldn’t know until you saw it again with clear eyes.
The electric kettle rumbled on its stand, hissing steam as you searched through Frederick Chilton’s surprisingly extensive tea collection for something herbal and soothing. Chamomile, you thought. With honey. Surely that must be good for demon-monster-werewolf things?
The sun was about to set and he was still reeling over Hannibal, and just as much from the premature transformation the revelation had triggered. And every time he cried, “This is not possible. How can this be possible?” the next convulsion was more intense.
He would probably just burn himself on tea.
A painful whimper came from somewhere in the house, and you followed it to a tiny panic room that opened behind a bookshelf. It was only about seven by nine feet with concrete walls and floors, bare except for deep scratches of varying age, like an animal trying to escape. The few chairs inside were metal. Difficult to break. Frederick faced away from you, staring at a hand that was too large for the rest of his body, capped with long black claws.
“Oh no, this will not do at all,” you tutted, shaking your head at the barren space. “How about I bring in some blankets? Let’s get you comfortable.”
His whole body shook. “You should go.”
“No. No way, not after seeing this prison cell. I am not leaving you like this.”
“I do not want to hurt you.” His shoulder jerked. A spike tore through his shirt.
“You won’t.”
“Seeing it again… will not be therapeutic for you,” he hissed, another spike breaking through. “Go before it is too late.”
“No!”
“Damn it! I am a monster—there is proof of that now! The FBI has no idea what it is dealing with!” Chilton began to pace the small cell, thoughts racing, features morphing into something grotesque and alien. “Does Hannibal know about me? Can he sense it? Is that why he confided in me? I always thought it was professional respect—hah! God, what if he…” A painful convulsion halted his pacing and brought him to one knee, gripping his side. His attention snapped back to you. “This is… dangerous,” he warned, then hacked violently. Fleshy, snake-like projections spewed from his mouth, and he quickly turned away again, hiding his face. “You should… you should be nowhere near all of this! You should not be here! Why did I let you inside?!”
A roar of anguish ripped through the air with enough force to push you back through the panic room door, just in time to avoid being impaled on half a dozen spines as they shot from Chilton’s body like lances. Chips of concrete clattered to the ground as they penetrated the walls. He screamed again, writhing to get free, but found himself trapped by his own violent transformation. Like an animal, he struggled and clawed at himself as if his rational mind had been overtaken by raw, volatile emotion.
“Take it easy. You’re going to hurt yourself,” you tried to calm him, but you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking.
This was worse than last time. You were sure his spines weren’t half as long when you saw him in his office—even Chilton seemed surprised to be pinned.
You lifted your hands, palms toward him in a steadying gesture, and took a step back into the concrete room.
“Stay back!” he howled, thrashing. “Get away!”
It was tempting. Every muscle in your body wanted to follow his advice and run far away from the indescribable horror before you. But his eyes were still green. Were still terrified. And you had an inkling of why it was worse this time. Maybe he would hate you later for imposing, but it seemed more important right now not to leave him feeling… like a monster.
“It’s OK.” You took another step closer.
“No!”
“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you. Shh, shh… I’m not afraid, see?”
Rigid spines sprayed from his back and shoulders in a 180-degree arc, leaving only his front accessible. You ducked under one and followed its trajectory to where it met the wall. It wasn’t just pinned by pressure—it had struck the wall with enough force to dig into it like an iron rod. Sawing through might be the only option for getting him unstuck. You wondered if that would hurt. Were there nerves in his spines? You stepped over the next one as you drew nearer.
“You should be afraid! I am just like him!” Chilton tried to turn his head away as you traversed his network of thorns and stood in front of him.
His face was almost entirely inhuman. Tentacles cascaded down from where a nose should have been, and when he opened his mouth in a snarl, they parted like wriggling eels—each with a life of its own—to reveal a jaw that split his face open vertically, crowded with rows of sharp white teeth. The more agitated Chilton became, the more dramatic the effect. Each time he spoke, you caught a flash of teeth that sent shivers racing down your spine. But you continued to move closer anyway, within snapping range.
“Hannibal and I… we are the same. Please—I do not want to become him. Do not let me hurt you!”
“You are not the same. You’re not a killer.”
Chilton let out a choking cry that was all too human. “I killed that nurse,” he said. Concrete groaned as his spines grew longer. A crooked horn sprouted from his head. “I killed Elizabeth Shell.”
“You… you didn’t kill her.”
His breath quickened again. Tentacles sprouted and died and resprouted from his face in a constant fevered motion. “I knew Gideon would kill! I lowered security! I knew what would happen—what I needed to happen to prove that he was the Ripper! I may as well have plucked her eyes out with my own hands and… and feasted on her organs. God… I am the Ripper,” he wailed.
“No…” It never occurred to you that Dr. Chilton would have done such a thing knowingly. Maybe there was something dark inside him that this creature was reflecting. It hurt to acknowledge, and yet maybe you both needed to. “You made a mistake. You did a bad thing, but… Gideon was already a killer. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I drove him to it, manipulated him… I am just as responsible as he is. I am a monster.”
“A monster wouldn’t feel this guilty! You made a mistake, but you won’t make it again, will you?”
Tentacles and spines stopped sprouting. His form stabilized as his wet eyes looked off thoughtfully. He seemed so pathetic… so innocent, almost. Despite the intimating spines and claws that added danger and height to his appearance, his body had the same mass—leaving his frame gaunt and frail, with ribs sticking out prominently. Hollow.
You wanted to protect him.
You knew that was your job at BSHCI. You knew that was why Dr. Chilton suddenly needed a personal secretary when he never had before. Someone to sit outside his door, take his calls, and warn him when visitors wanted to see him. You’d never met the doctor before he was attacked by one of his patients, but you recognized the signs of trauma—the way he flinched easily, avoided contact at first, then the way he clung to you when you earned his trust. The awkward little smiles. The way his cheeks turned bright red when his fingers brushed yours as you delivered his coffee. You couldn’t help feeling protective. Falling in love, even.
Though it was closed for the moment, his mouth was a dangerous black hole with alien arms ready to pull prey inside. It seemed impossible to get close without being dragged into its teeth by instinct. You couldn’t imagine putting your face anywhere near it.
Another step, and your forehead touched his.
“I... I do not want to hurt you,” he pleaded.
“You won’t.”
You leaned into his arms, a hand reaching up to stroke the side of his face. It was covered in fine scales that glistened as if they should be slimy, but were smooth to the touch, like a snake. Sharper thorns sprouting from his skin seemed to retreat before your caress.
He trembled with inner turmoil, hot breath puffing against your chin. Your eyes darted toward the motion of one of his claws rising behind you, and all you could focus on were the way each sharp talon caught the light. You couldn’t be sure what he was thinking—if he was going to return your embrace, or prove to you that he was a monster. Would he slash you just to drive you away?
“I smell your fear,” his voice hissed accusingly.
For some reason, of all the reactions you could have had, you started to laugh. It was nervous and tight at first, but then building in confidence at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“You’ve got giant claws! Of course I’m afraid! But I’m not running, am I?”
You slid your hand from his cheek and trailed it over his bony neck and the ridges and spines of his shoulders, finding a path for your arms to twine around him. Cuddling closer, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hardly bothered by the writhing tentacles that draped down over you.
“I know you would never hurt me. You’re just going to have to keep showing me there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Shuddering, he breathed in your scent. All his senses were heightened by this form, and he was surrounded by you—your pheromones, your electric field, the radiant heat of your skin. It was like sinking into a warm bath with a glass of fine wine in his hand. He opened his palm and let his predator’s hand sweep harmlessly down your back, holding you close. He could sense the fluttering of your heart in his embrace. It was slower than a creature in terror—slowing the longer he held you. You were not afraid. And he could not imagine hurting you. Whatever he had been worried might happen, whatever awful things he might be capable of, he could never imagine hurting you. You were right. You didn’t have anything to fear.
He exhaled a long, steady breath of surrender. The long spines retracted, pulling out of the walls as they returned to their usual size. He could move again, but didn’t. Not for a long time.
“It’s OK. It’s OK,” you sighed. The scent of your hair was intoxicating.
Eventually, you had to part. Chilton’s eyes darted away as you did—the inky scales on his face emitted a soft bluish starlight, which you were certain was blushing. You could not coax him to leave his concrete prison cell, but he told you where to find some blankets he could live with damaging—linen closet, second floor, third door on the right—and let you make a cozy nest on the bare floors. You made tea, and only cringed a little at his attempts to drink it. It was late, then. You were sleepy, and he was exhausted. Emotionally drained. His mind still raced over everything, still not certain of your presence and inexplicable kindness. You sat in the pile of blankets and had him rest his head in your lap.
“Give me your hand,” you asked, extending yours.
A clawed, scaly hand slid tentatively along the floor. You took it. Held it gently, first observing the long talons protruding like daggers from each finger before slotting yours between them—nothing sharp there. You let out a long sigh and leaned back against the concrete wall. His breath hitched.
He’d never had his hand held in this form, you assumed.
He’d never had his hand held at all, in fact. Not in many years.
It had to be a trap, he thought. No one had ever loved him before. No one could—not like this. Yet, as he fell asleep to your fingers massaging his temple and the soft murmuring of your voice, he let himself believe it. You were always there, protecting him. Smiling at him in the morning.
When you woke up, Frederick was human again, still fast asleep in your arms.
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago
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𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒/𝐎
Requested by: @seacottons
❄𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
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Hongjoong smiled proudly at his work of art. He carefully picked up the gingerbread house and held it up.
"Look look baby!" He exclaimed, bouncing lightly on his feet as he showed you it.
"Oh my God! It looks amazing!"
The smile on your face that was happy for Hongjoong soon turned to a pout though as you stared down at your own creation. Hongjoong peeked over and noticed why you were sad. Your gingerbread house was falling apart, barely standing up, and the frosting was smeared all over the place, including your face and hair.
"Awww sweetheart come on." Hongjoong cooed as he began to wipe some of the frosting off your face.
"I suck and I hate Christmas." You huffed softly, your arms crossing over your chest.
"Stop you don't mean that." He said cupping your cheeks.
"Tell you what? How about we go back to the store and I buy you that spongebob gingerbread house you wanted and build it for you?"
Your eyes lit up at his comment.
"Really?!" You squealed.
Hongjoong kissed your frosted nose, licking some of it off and then winked at your blushing figure.
"Come on baby. We want to get there before it closes."
❄𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
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"Baby baby look!"
You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend once again got sidetracked from your task and began pulling you to see some of the items on display.
"Seonghwa! We're supposed to be shopping for gifts for the boys." You reminded him.
"I know, I know...but look how cute these are!"
Seonghwa couldn't help himself as he picked up some of the baby mittens and hats. He giggled as he held them out to you.
"Seonghwa? Who are those supposed to fit? Yunho?" You rolled your eyes.
"No silly! But I was thinking....you know.."
Seonghwa wiggled his eyes suggestively at you. When you caught onto his meaning, you smacked his arm and started walking away.
"You're....ugh!
Seonghwa quickly put the stuff down and walked behind you.
"Why are you against this?! I thought you wanted to give me what I wanted for Christmas and I want a positive pregnancy test!".
He cried out then quickly turned cause something caught his eye.
"Look this is perfect for Mingi!"
You sighed as you realized it was gonna be a long day.
❄𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
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You and Yunho were currently putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree. You felt so proud at the color combination you picked out. You tilted your head when you heard a cluttering sound.
"Oops?" Yunho smiled shyly as he began to pick up some of the glass balls that he had accidentally dropped on the floor.
"Yuyu careful. I don't want you cutting yourself." You said as you helped him pick them up.
"I'll be fine love. They didn't even shatter." He assured you.
After you guys picked up the ornaments and finished putting them up, you both began clapping and jumping up and down.
"It's almost finished."
You picked up the last item, a shiny gold star to put on the top of the tree. You happily walked over to the tree.
"Baby? Need me to do it?" Yunho offered.
"I can do it!"
You reached up but unfortunately couldn't reach all the way to the top. You stood on your tippy toes, but still couldn't place the star on the top. Defeated, you turned with a pout to Yunho. He merely chuckled as he took the star away from you.
"Don't worry love. It's what I'm here for."
He kissed your cheek before proceeding to lift you up on his arm.
"Come on. Let's finish decorating the tree together."
❄𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
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"Yeosang. Can you please take out the cookies from the oven?" You asked as you assembled the frosting and the piping bags.
Making sure to put on oven mittens, Yeosang carefully took out the sugar cookies from the oven and placed the tray on the counter, fanning them out gently.
"Perfect! Now we can start decorating them!" You handed a bag to Yeosang.
Yeosang and you quietly began decorating the cookies, adding different figures and cute designs on them. You felt Yeosang tapping eagerly on your shoulder so you stopped what you were doing to see what he had done.
"Hehet." He chuckled as he showered you a blue cookie decorated with a white Hehetmon.
That wasn't the end, he then held up a cookie that resembled an angry bird.
"It's Seonghwa Hyung!"
You bursted out laughing at how cute your boyfriend was. You were so caught up in your task of decorating the cookies, you almost..... almost didnt notice the hands that swindled one of the cookies.
"Yeosang did you just ate one of the cookies?" You placed your hands on your hips.
Yeosang turned to you with a shocked look on his face.
"Nnno..." He muffled a lie, mouth full of the pastry he stole.
You shook your head and tried to hit him with the nearby whisk, but he quickly evaded you.
"You know I have a sweet tooth!"
❄𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
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San made sure not to hurt himself as he hammered the nails onto the wall. It wasn't easy considering a certain furry feline decided it was a good time to start rubbing her body on his leg.
"Byeol, babygirl. As soon as I'm finished I'll give you cuddles ok?" He smiled down at the cat.
The cat however glared at him. Hissing softly, she left to join you on the couch, where you were busy trying to finish filling the stockings with goodies and candies. Byeol began meowing at you, sprawling her body across your lap.
"Byeol, sweetheart. Soon ok?" You said as you gently put her down, which she did not appreciate.
Soon both you and San were finished.
"Ok. Let's hang them up now."
You two slowly placed two stockings first, testing the waters to make sure they wouldn't fall off or rip. You both stepped back and let it stay for a few seconds before deciding it was ok.
"We did it!" San clapped as he turned back to you and gave you a high five and then pulled you in for a hug.
"All right. Let's finish putting the others-"
You couldn't finish your sentence when you two turned around and saw that the rest of the stockings had been ransacked through, some of them even with a couple of tears. You guys then witnessed a very angry cat perch itself on the top of the couch, daring you to say something.
"Ah come on Byeol! We worked really hard on them!" San complained but was met by a low hiss.
You giggled. "Come on. Let's just drink some hot chocolate and give snuggles to our child before she decides to tear up the Christmas tree."
❄𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
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Mingi hopped from one side of the stove to another, peering down at your task of slowly stirring the boiling pot in front of you. He turned his face, bringing it really close to yours.
"Is it ready yet?"
You sighed as he asked for the 6th time in less than 2 minutes.
"Mingi, I told you the hot chocolate will be ready soon." You repeated to him.
He whined and shook his shoulders slightly. Rolling your eyes, you handed him the spoon.
"Stir this for a bit. I'm gonna run down to the bathroom for a while."
Taking off your apron, you made a quick stop at the restroom. As soon as you came out, you head Mingi yelp from the kitchen. Quickly pulling out the first aid kit, you ran back to see what happened. Mingi's bottom lip quivered as he held out his hand.
"I accidentally burnt myself." He whimpered softly.
You tried to be as careful as possible while you rubbed ointment on the red patch on his skin and finished bandaging it up.
"There. All better?" You asked.
Mingi smiled shyly. "Can you kiss it to make the boo boo feel better?"
You giggled and tenderly kissed his hand. "You know you're such a dork..."
Leaning up, you pecked his lips.
"But you're my dork."
❄𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
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"Wooyoung. Press start now." You urged him.
"No! I'm not starting the movie until the popcorn is ready." He wouldn't budge.
"You won't miss much of it." You shook his arm.
"I am not starting a movie until all the required snacks are in place."
Right at that moment, the microwave beeped and Wooyoung quickly sped over to retrieve the popcorn. As soon as he set it down, he jumped back inside the pillow and blanket fort you two created, effectively tackling you down, making you groan and complain when he began adjusting around.
"Cuddle me! I wanna be the little spoon." He grabbed your arms and wrapped them around him.
You rolled your eyes but nonetheless cuddled up to Wooyoung as you started your Christmas movie marathon. Wooyoung would occasionally make you feed him popcorn or chocolate, or he'd end up throwing some at your face when you thought he'd feed you as well. He'd laugh every time you smacked his hand.
"Look baby! You're on tv!" He pointed to the screen when the Grinch came up.
"You're so annoying!" You exclaimed as you got up and let go of him.
Wooyoung wasn't having it though. He quickly pulled you back down and wrapped his legs around you, making you the little spoon this time.
"Come on baby. You know I'm kidding. I love you so much." He confessed as he attacked your cheek with kisses.
❄𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
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Jongho carefully patted some more snow onto the snowman you were currently building. You had gone inside to get a hat and scarf to wrap around it. When you came back out and notices how focused he was, you decided it'd be fun to mess with him. Picking up some snow, you made it into a tiny ball before throwing it at the back of his head.
"Hey!"
Jongho screeched as he turned around, but was met with another snowball to the face that you threw at him. You giggled at him as he stared at you unamused. He bent down and picked up a large handful of snow and began walking towards you. You let out a squeal and began running as fast as you could, trying to escape your boyfriend's revenge.
"Get back here Y/N!" He shouted from behind, a smile plastered on his face.
Jongho ended up discarding the snowball and instead tackled you down onto the snow before proceeding to roll you guys around on it. He ended up pining you down and both of you were giggling like crazy.
"Oh..." You stopped laughing and looked at the tree above you.
Jongho followed your gaze to see a mistletoe hanging by one of the branches right above you guys. He looked back at you and smiled softly.
"I mean.....it is tradition." He mused as he bent down to tenderly kiss your lips.
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners
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stillebesat · 4 years ago
Text
Christmas Eve (3/5)
Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk Taglist in Reblog To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2 
He supposed it was the shock of Roman actually helping him that allowed his Ex to drag him halfway through the store before Janus remembered he didn’t have to be complacent in this. 
“Seriously.” He rasped, jerking his arm, finding it difficult to focus on anything more than the burning grip of Roman’s hand around his wrist. “You don’t have to do this.” 
It sounded so flimsy soo--so trite. So insincere. Even to his own ears. Roman had to be dissecting his words and tone even now, searching for the trick--the manipulation he had used as easily as a fish breathed water all throughout his--well his entire life, even if Roman had only experienced it first hand for a couple of years during college. 
With that sort of bad history between them...of all the possibilities that had flashed through his mind when he and Roman had made eye contact...having him actually help them had never--well it had--briefly. Very very briefly. Crossed his mind. But it had been a fool’s hope. Not when their relationship had ended more explosively than the grand finale of a firework show.
“I--” He swallowed trying again as he adjusted Pattey’s weight on his hip. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured them meeting again. He wasn’t ready for this. “We really can just leave. He’ll understand.” His son knew all too well about his history with the Prince even if it was just through bedtime stories. “You don’t have to--”
“Shut up, Dragon Witch.” Roman growled, tugging him around a corner. “I don’t want to either. But I’m not heartless.” 
“You’re not.” He agreed. Roman was anything but that. He was good. He’d been the best thing that had happened to him before Patton came into his life, and Janus had taken advantage of that in the worst ways possible, using him and then tossing him away like so much trash without realizing what a treasure Roman actually was. “But you don’t have to force yourself on my--” Janus cut off as a small hand covered his mouth, his son’s bright eyes filled with excitement. 
“Shh, Daddy.” He patted his lips. “You told me if a Prince offers to help you, you let him help! You don’t say no.”
Yes. But he hadn’t meant that to apply to himself! What he’d done--it could be considered unforgivable. No one should be treated how he’d treated Roman--or well, any of his former relationships. It had taken Patton’s birth to get him to...stop. To want to change. To be better. 
Roman had the gall to smirk at him as he stopped in front of a display of cages, letting go of Janus’s wrist so he could fish out a set of keys from his pocket. “Correct, little man. It’s a Prince’s duty to help all those he encounters in distress….even if the fair damsel turns out to be a---.”
“Aaraog!” Patton piped up.
Roman froze, looking nonplussed at the nonsequir. “Aaraog?” 
“You can’t trust them. They’re Evil.” Patton said solemnly before bouncing in Janus’s arms as he stared eagerly into the cages. “Daddy says that even though the Dragon Witch is a jerk, he still occasionally helps the Prince! And so they can’t be meanies to each other all the time like Aaraog sooo if the Prince can help the Dragon Witch then you, Prince--” 
“Roman.” Janus said softly, the name feeling like he was tasting the forbidden fruit as it rolled off his tongue. He looked away as his Ex shot him a dark look. Yah...he didn’t think they were on first name terms anymore, hence why he only ever called the Prince...well Prince. But Pattey had been upset that the Dragon Witch always fought with the Prince and always lost...so he’d told a slightly different story from the usual, using a giant spider as the villain instead. It’d been... a kind of self wish of his. Where he hoped things would eventually...maybe...work out.
“Prince Roman! And my Daddy can be friends today too as you help!”
Ha. That would be the day. He wasn’t a fool enough to believe them rekindling any sort of...friendship...would ever actually happen. Even if he wanted a redo...he was pretty sure he’d burned that bridge and then buried the ashes in a pit a hundred feet deep back in college.
“I--I--don’t think he’s...uh...I’m sure the Dragon Witch can be...nice.” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.
And Janus was a platypus. “Liar.” He mumbled. Roman had only ever known his manipulative nice. Not his genuine niceness. How could he? Janus had only learned how to be so after Patton had said his first word. Years after everything had...ended between them. 
“You’re one to talk.” Roman hissed. 
“Yes and?” 
Pattey looked between the two of them, before deciding that comforting his Dad was needed. His little hands squished Janus’s cheeks. “But Daddy isn’t a true Dragon Witch!” He said firmly, maintaining eye contact before he flashed his hundred watt smile, succeeding in melting Janus’s heart once again. “He’s the bestest Daddy in the whole world! Even if he doesn’t think so.” 
Janus flushed. “Liar.” He repeated. He was sure there were plenty of other Dads who were far better than he could ever be.
“Truther!” Patton grinned. “The best best best BEST Daddy!!” 
He shook his head as Roman scoffed, hoping his face wasn’t as red as a tomato--this awkward encounter was only going to get much worse if he didn’t hurry this up. Janus quickly set his son down, pushing him towards the cage his Ex had unlocked. 
“Go pick one you like.” He encouraged, staying crouched to discourage Roman from talking to him even if it did mean his Ex would be hovering over him like the Sword of Damocles. It wasn’t ideal, but it would hopefully keep himself from saying something he would regret and get them kicked out before he could buy a Frogmin for his son.
After all, Roman had to only be helping him on Patton’s behalf. If his kid hadn’t been here he was sure his Ex would have taken one look at him and thrown him right back out, no questions asked. So the sooner they could get out of here the sooner they both could forget this whole encounter. 
Not that Janus would be able to forget. Not when Pattey usually demanded a Prince story for bedtime. 
“Oh!!!” Patton pressed his face against the glass where little multi-colored frog-like humans crouched among the branches inside the cage. “Look at them, Daddy!!! LOOK! FROGMINS!! They’re here! AWWWWWW. Look at their cute little spots!!”
Janus let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. Finally. After fifteen stores he could finally make good on his promise to his son.
“Careful. You don’t want to scare them.” Roman said, also kneeling down, keeping Pattey between them as he pointed to the half dozen Frogmins inside. “While they have frog characteristics, it’s easier to think of them as mini people. And some of them can get really scared when a giant face suddenly appears in front of them.”
His son’s eyes went wide. “Noooo. I don’t wanna scare them!” Pattey leaned back, wrapping his arms around himself as he twisted back and forth. “They’re just sooo cool! And so Princely! Cus if you kiss one they can turn large and save the day! Like the stories! But I want mine to remain small, so I’ll be very careful in my kisses. And they can hop and climb walls like--” Patton made a face and Janus had to bite back a smile at his son’s reluctance to say Spiderman. “Like superheros!! And they eat bugs! Like...like!!!....like….spiders.” He shivered. “I don’t like them.” 
Roman tilted his head, amber eyes flashing with understanding. “So you’re looking for a Frogmin to protect you from spiders?” 
Pattey nodded hard enough he looked like a bobble head. “He’ll keep me safe while I sleep!”
Roman chuckled. “A good reason to get a Frogmin. Though not all of them like to eat spiders. Just like some little boys don’t like to eat their vegetables.”
His son grimaced. “But carrots are icky!!”
“And some Frogmins think spiders are icky too.��� He said gently, opening a small hatch in the side of the cage where three of the Frogmins had already gathered. “While you can just pick one that you like the look of...you could also come over here and hold out your hands--don’t reach in, but hold out your hands and ask them if any of them would like to come live with you and eat spiders...or well, like to have them as a treat as I’m sure you don’t want to feed them dried ones.” He glanced over to Janus as he spoke.
Ha. No. While he did have some dried spiders waiting at home, there was no way he’d pull out any of the creatures...even dead ones...where his son could see. One meltdown at the first pet store had been enough to convince him why having his Lilypatton see spiders--dead or alive--was a bad idea. 
Janus let out a slow breath as Pattey eagerly moved closer, his small hands held out to the opening. 
“Do you guys like to eat spiders?” He whisper-shouted to the group. “If you do, we have plenty of them at home and I really really REALLY want you to eat ALL of them. Please? Pleeeease.”
And now Roman was going to think they lived in a haunted house or something. Really, it was more of an issue of all the spiders in their backyard instead of inside. 
Janus shook his head, holding up a hand. “I have a variety of other dried insects to choose from at home if the one Pattey picks doesn’t like spiders.” He said, glancing at his Ex before turning his attention back to the cage, watching as more Frogmins crept out of the leaves towards his son. 
Sure, he knew that Pattey wanted the Frogmin mostly for their ability to eat spiders--and their connection to Princes--but he wasn’t a fool to expect that to be the only food source.
Though knowing his luck, whichever one his son picked would be extremely picky and want to eat only the most expensive of the bugs. 
Roman raised an eyebrow. “You already have everything else as well? The cage?” 
Janus rolled his eyes. Nooo he’d just spent months preparing and all day searching for a Frogmin and totally forgot about getting the creature a home to live in. “Yes.”
Roman pursed his lips, an obvious indication that he didn’t like the answer and stood, tilting his head down the aisle to where a variety of cages sat on the shelves. “Show me.”
To Be Continued. Part 4
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spc4eva · 4 years ago
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Star-Burned: Chapter One
Ok, honestly, I couldn’t stop myself.
So this is my first reader insert. I am hella nervous. There will be no Y/N included, but pet names (and nicknames) given out by Paz that will act as Y/N. Additionally, feel free to imagine yourself in the shoes of the character, but I am going to include a few features that she has - to include very, VERY Merida curly red hair. Honestly, I'm gonna treat her more like an OC, but since it's a reader insert - imagine yourselves how you want QUEEN.
There's gonna be smut. But plot. I promise.
Summary:  A Mandalorian crash lands on your planet with severe injuries. You're a moisture farmer who's handy. It's been a long time since you've had company other than your massiff, Jumbles. You take the Mandalorian in because you're a bleeding heart, not realizing what danger you've put yourself in. But the Mandalorian doesn't forget and he's more than willing to repay his debt and protect you.
Word Count: 5,398
Rating: M (18+) explicit sex scenes
| Chapter Two |
Cross Posted on AO3
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Someone had crash landed.
Which, for this quiet hovel a planet, was the most action you'd seen in foreverrrr. Maybe ever to be honest. You were used to dealing with Jawas, the occasional drifter, and patching up your moisture farm as best as possible. Was honest work, pretty lonely since your folks had passed away, but it was all you had. Not entirely of course, there was the local wiley massiff that you'd feed scraps and talk to, as if it were a kindred soul, eying you with those beady little eyes before salivating over its disconcertingly large maw. Yeah, you should have been worried that it might've been sizing you up in case you didn't come out with a meal for it, but at least you did have a blaster. Would've been a sad day to have to put Jumbles down - yes, that's what you had named it. For no particular reason other than it had spontaneously fallen out of your mouth and the creature seemed to listen to it.
So when Jumbles trotted up with its spines quivering, baying and leaping around, you half expected it was going to lead you to another rotting womp rat corpse. What you were not expecting was to see smoke peeling from between the canyon walls, dark and sulfuric. Your years patching the farm up, making repairs to any scraps you had laying around - to include droids at times - had made you rather handy. You had to be when the nearest town was a two day ride on your speederbike. Self sufficiency was necessary, because it cost credits to get fuel and to ride out that far. Additionally, you had to plan for it... months ahead. 
Jumbles sprinted ahead, wagging a tailless rump before glancing back at you with bounce in his paws. Follow. Come quick. 
Now that you had an idea of what it was, your strides lengthened until you were chasing after the massiff. Between the terracotta walls and around a bend, until you were face to face with a crashed starship that had smoke rolling off the main engines. You winced at the carnage, a good portion of the hull smashed inward and splattered open, storage containers and supplies dashing the sand like organs splayed from a chest wound.
Jumbles woofed, approaching the wreckage. 
"Not a good idea, boy," you started to say. Even if it was a dangerous wild creature, you still worried about it and this mess was still smoking. Who knew if it was about to explode, there could be fuel leaks in tandem with hanging wires and-
Jumbles went inside the ship.
"Ah!" Your legs churned after it. Even if you had to drag the massiff out of the carnage, you would. Jawas would find it soon enough and have their way with the supplies. Could be a good amount of things to take, but even if you were friends with Jawas, you didn't really like picking the bones of others. 
Wires snapped and hissed like tiny snakes around your ear, threatening to singe your barely restricted hair as you ducked. The ship was in an abysmal condition, but the upper echelons of the craft were still intact... Warped, but intact. Your mechanic eyes began discerning the issues, locating the biggest issues first, which was-
Jumbles barked, your neck snapping fast enough that you thought you pulled a muscle. Palming your neck, you trailed forward and saw what... no, who the canine was standing over. Maybe he thought it was a droid. Hell, you thought it was a droid for a moment until you bent down to get a better look and saw that it was breathing. Jumbles yipped again and you blinked, realizing that the massive armored creature was a living person and looked hurt. 
"Hey," you started, poking into the man's shoulder where the blue steel didn't meet. "Hey, you need to get up. This ship might go-" Maker, he felt like metal underneath all those layers. Could be a droid then and you were just wasting your time. "C'mon get up!" But you couldn't leave someone here to die on their ship as it leaked fuel and ignited itself. You rarely saw people as it was and what if the last person you ever saw with this guy and you let him become a toasted human inside his armor?
Hooking your fingers into the pauldrons of the armor, you made a valiant attempt at trying to drag the figure out of the ship. He didn't budge. Face down, unconscious, and weighing an absolute ton. Your heart was pumping by now and panic made your hands shake as you desperately glanced around for a solution. Just... anything, a repulsor lift, a speeder... a speeder? Jolting to your feet, you spotted the storage area, having been thrown haphazardly around like a pinball during the crash landing, but still intact. 
Now, the issue would be getting this man onto the speeder. You couldn't even drag him, how in the Maker's name were you going to hoist him over? You brought the speeder over and chewed your lip at your plight, hopelessly glancing from bike to fallen warrior. 
"Hey," you tried again, hoping that maybe you'd get an answer this time. "Hey, c'mon are you in there?" You knocked on the helmet as if it were a door, your knuckles screaming in immediate protest. That was the least of your worries, because a hand flew out, grabbed your ankle, and ripped you off your feet. Back smacking on the steel floor, you groaned as the metal giant finally stirred. Despite the brazen display of insane speed, the figure was barely able to move more than a few centimeters... but he was alive, so he had that going for him. "Maker-" Scrambling back to your feet, you gave him another look over. "If you can hear me, I'm going to try and get you on your feet. I need your help though, can't pick you up myself."
You positioned yourself around him, finding his arm and slinging it around your shoulders before popping a squat. Now, you weren't very big or very strong. Just strong enough to lift things when you needed to, but you had lifts to do the heavier jobs back on the farm. Your knees quaked as you tested the pressure before sucking in a greedy breath. "Alright, one, two, three-" Exploding upward - or making an attempt to explode upward - you made it about a foot and a half before your calves died on you and your back buckled forward. "AH!" It didn't feel good, the absolute loss of control over your body as you expected to fly face first into the side of the speeder. Unfortunately for you, you didn't have a helmet protecting your face.
But it never came and you chanced opening an eye to look. The man was trying to stand, alleviating a brief amount of pressure as you widen your eyes. Swallowing the huge lump in your throat, you quickly thrust him forward and unceremoniously onto the bike. He grunted, but didn't manage any words before lolling, stomach first, onto the seat. 
There would be no comfortable way to ride this bike, you saw that now as you tried to shove him over the tail a little better, squeezing yourself tightly into the thrusters, almost off the seat entirely as you kicked it into gear and backed out through the massive tear in the hull. Jumbles ran along dopily as you very carefully - at almost a gruelling pace - brought the bike through the ravine and up the ride toward your moisture farm. Now came the second issue.
Getting him inside. 
"We have to walk again," you warned him, the light of day revealing the color of the man's armor - a deep ocean (or from pictures you’d seen of oceans) blue accent with marigold yellow. Didn't quite strike you when you were panicking, but you saw it now as the haze of strife cleared. A Mandalorian. You had pulled a kriffing Mandalorian from the wreckage of his ship. Fuck. That ship definitely had carbon scarring on it - indicative of a dogfight.
Too fucking late now.
"6PO can you get the lift?" You shouted for the protocol droid, an old rusted out piece of crap that you'd reprogrammed to help around the house. There was too much for you to do with just your own hands. The droid could manage the more mundane tasks, but still made a piss pour cup of caf. 
The droid stuttered out - having never learned to talk properly - gave you a blank look, and then started waddling toward the work shed where the lift would be. 
"Alright, mando, can you hear me?" you bent over, turning his helmet so that the visor was sort of looking up toward you. "Your ship crashed. Where are you hurt? I can't see that much with all that armor on." Part of you was asking this so you could tend his wounds and then send him packing. "6PO?" you raised your voice irritably, Maker that droid was always slow right when you needed it to be fast.
"W-where?" Finally he spoke, his strangled voice translated through the modulator in his helmet, breathy and in pain.
You told him the planet, pretty backwater and without much activity. There was a spaceport on the other side of the planet, but nowhere near where he was now. Finally, 6PO came over with the lift, cocking its head as you sighed. "About bloody time," you grumble, dragging the lift up and devoting your attention to your charge once again. "Gotta get up again."
This time the Mandalorian was more receptive, putting weight on his legs as you eased him onto the lift, which sagged until his weight. By the way he was cradling his abdomen you were guessing there was some sort of trauma there, but it was hard to tell. You weren't a medic, you weren't even pretending to be as you brought him into your home and slipped him onto your bed since it was the biggest one in the house. But what you did have was bacta, because if something happened to you where you crushed an arm or broke a bone, you needed to be able to fix it. Wasn't often that you had to use the concentrated shots, but it was always better to keep one on hand (even if it cost a fuckton of credits for it). Better to spend the money than die with it in your pocket.
Should you use it on the Mandalorian? That was the question, wincing as he drew rattled breaths in the bed, holding the shot in your palm as you really considered how many credits you had spent on this last year. 
"I need to take a look. Can I remove your armor?" Very carefully you approached like a womp rat before a nexu, almost afraid that one of the very many weapons on his belt might soon be tilted toward you. Of course you knew the stories about Mandalorians and having a behemoth one in your modest home didn't make you feel much better. But he was still a person.
"Not... not the helmet," he grunted eventually.
Everything but the helmet. Alright, that could work. You didn't know how armor worked, so removing the armor was a shitshow of fumbling, your fingers catching buckles, pinching flesh, and other times was fastened so tightly that you had to put some weight into getting the kriffing things off. Took the better part of an hour, but you managed to remove the armor - aside from the helmet - and leave the Mandalorian in just his flight suit and boots. Now this next part felt a bit intrusive, but you convinced yourself that this was in for the better health of the mando.
Unbuttoning the top of the flight suit, you started to peel it down, a rush of heat playing across your cheeks as you revealed the muscular and well hewn figure of the ailing man beneath the beskar. You looked a little too long, but doubted the fellow was even conscious enough to catch your ogling. Biting your lips, you pushed the undershirt up and took your medical scanner to the constellation of bruising against his ribcage. Oh, it didn't look good and the scanner came back with a result that made your legs weak, but not in a good way.
"You've got three broken ribs, lacerations to your spleen and kidneys--" ok you didn't know medical stuff, but the device was blinking indicating that he needed treatment immediately or face going sepsis. Your brain nearly exploded with panic as you tripped over your own feet and sprinted for the bacta infusion, which jumped between your nervous, sweaty hands. "Th-this isn't g-gonna feel good," you stammered, uncapping the three pronged syringe. Maker you hated looking at it, the thing looked like a torture device. 
Or go sepsis---
You shanked him with the infusion, pushing the plunger down, expecting him to recoil in pain. Actually, he didn't, which made your head turn slowly and a cascade of fiery curls follow as you just stared, in more distress than the severely wounded mando. "I-I will leave you to rest."
---
The infusion had been enough to stave off sepsis and repair the Mandalorian's organs, but he was still recovering from the broken bones. From your readings, the bacta had set them back into place, but he required more time to naturally heal the rest. What that meant was that you had suddenly become his caretaker, which consisted of feeding and helping him over to the fresher because he couldn't take his full weight on his injured side. For a Mandalorian, you didn't think he was that mean or callous. If anything, he was pretty gracious that you'd put the effort into struggling to get him back to your ranch.
But work didn't stop. In fact, you still had to run the farm while periodically checking in on the Mandalorian. Despite it, you tried not to seem bone weary when he asked for him. Wasn't his fault. If anything, it was your fault for helping him in the first place. He did answer a few questions, rumbling in a deep voice that sounded like thunder hinting at lightning on the horizon. 
"What's your name?" "You can call me Paz."
"Why did you crash land?" "I was shot down."
"Why though?" "Made some Imps upset."
"So you can't take your helmet off?" "Not in front of anything living."
"Oh so, it's fine if they're dead." "I try not to remove it unless I'm alone."
"Why is it blue?" "Why is what blue?"
"Your armor? Why choose blue?" "It's my favorite color." 
“Mine’s gold. Kind of like the yellow there on your armor.” “Your what?” “My favorite color.”
"You think those Imps are going to come looking for you?" "My ship crash landed, so I doubt it."
That ship, you had actually gone back to one afternoon to cordoned off from the Jawas. You knew them and decided that you liked the Mandalorian enough you weren't going to let his belongings get looted. Since it was close to your farm, laying claim to it - by Jawa code - was not difficult. You left them signs in their tongue, warding them off, before finding yourself taken aback that the thing hadn't exploded while you were gone. It needed a lot of work and probably a proper spaceport where it could be hoisted up and repaired from underneath. 
Your stupid bleeding heart meant that you went and fixed a few wires in your spare time, soldering them off, and cleaning up the worst of the wreckage. The engines would take more time, but they weren't too dissimilar from what you'd worked on in other vehicles, including your speeder and tractor. Peeling open a few holobooks, you would hum yourself to sleep at night in your childhood bedroom, blinking away sleep as you contemplated how else you might help this... Paz. Being generous was not forlorn to you. You'd helped drifters passing through, offered to lodge them up for the night, fill their bellies before sending them off... This planet wasn't that bad aside from the arid landscape and mischievous Jawas. 
Not like you had to worry about raiders or skugs. So your tenderheartedness hadn't come to bite you in the ass yet and aside from wanting a replacement to the bacta shot, you weren't expecting payment. It was called being a good human being and you pride yourself on the fact that you'd done something so nice. Plus, the added bonus was you didn't only have Jumbles to talk to. Now there was a living, breathing person who could hold conversation with you. Course, wasn't really to his will, but you tried not to pester him too much even though you were incredibly curious about what he did. Plus he seemed to get bored being pent up in that room. 
"Tranyc," he'd taken to calling you that in some mysterious language you didn't know, as you hummed into the bedroom after knocking, carrying fresh caf and breakfast. Weeks had passed and he was almost well enough. "I think I might be able to walk on my own. Do you mind-"
Mind keeping an eye out for him? You nod, setting the tray down on the nightstand before preparing yourself. Now, you were a master of helping the blue Mandalorian on his feet, keenly aware of where you fit and could support him from without being crumpled like tin foil. He threw his legs over the bed, testing his feet on the floor as you stood guard, poised like a goalie ready to catch the ball in front of a net before the big shot was made.  Admittedly, you were a little too silly for your own good, but being on your own for so long had done that. You would talk to yourself, make funny gestures, and do ridiculous things just to chase away the loneliness. Those mannerisms hadn’t really faded in light of your new acquaintance.
Paz pushed off the bed and stood there, towering over you at full height. You relaxed, glad to see that he was able to hold his own, but also sad about that. A pit welled in your belly, the realization that these few weeks had brought you a lot of happiness in having the company of another. And... you kind of liked him. Not in a companionable sort of way. No, you thought he was attractive --- from his voice, to his sturdy body, to the calm manner he'd talk to you. Despite all the stories you'd heard about Mandalorians, he was very warm and patient. Even if there was no face to place with all of that, attraction was more than just appearances, wasn't it? Then again, you'd been shocked by your sudden arousal on the first day of his arrival after just brushing his muscular chest.
Living alone didn't help your touch-starved addled brain.
And then he took a step forward and your spine jolted, darting forward as he winced for his side and wobbled. "Ah-hee!" a strange noise came out of your mouth as you tried to stop the tower of a man from tumbling and honestly, he tried too. But the result was still a mess of limbs, and you tried to take the brunt of the fall, cushioning him so that he didn't hurt his ribs again. Maker, that was your first mistake, thinking that you could take the weight of his body.
All air was crushed from your lungs, vision spinning as you made impact with the carpet. And it wasn't coming afterward, your throat bobbing but the pressure on your ribcage still too much that you were suffocating and unable to see at the same time. "Maker!" it wasn't your voice, but at the sound of it, the air whooshed back into your lungs and you sputtered hoarsely as someone sat you up. Not someone. There was only one other person on this farm. "Tranyc? Hey, can you hear me?"
"Y-yup!" you squeaked, the frayed edges of your vision swimming hazily back into focus as you saw that Paz was sitting on the floor with you, propping your semi-noodley form up. "A-are you ok?"
He sighed, the noise crackling out of his helmet as you trembled, sensation returning to your muscles. "I nearly crushed you. What were you thinking?"
"T-trying t-to he-help," you stammer, taking big gulps of air in between each word. Now you could feel a bit better, rolling your neck as you took account of what had happened. You had jumped to his side before he fell, taking the brunt of the fall directly on top of you. Not very smart at all. Then, he'd turned, picked you up and you were --- you were on his lap. "Wha--" Lancing like wildfire across a dry field of brush, blush erupted up your neck and face. "I-I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? I fell on you," Paz pointed out, his helmet tilting to the side as your ears began buzzing. "Are you certain you're ok? I nearly flattened you."
"C-couldn't b-b-be be-better," your tongue was betraying you, thick and clumsy as you pushed against his chest -- oh Maker, the chest without the armor and only the flight suit. You could feel the grooves of his strong pectoral muscles beneath, the color on your face heightening to as bright a red as your hair. "I should... I should leave you to eat. Breakfast is on the ta-table."
You got to your feet, the weak wobbly limbs shaking, but not because you had been used as a pillowy landing for the Mandalorian. No, a heat radiated around your tummy and laddled lower into the abyss between your legs. A very, infrequently ventured area that had been visited once or twice by drifters, but never for much longer than an evening. Anyways, the Mandalorian wouldn't be interested in anything like that. You were just being hormonal and touch-starved. A little alone time could help you with that, right? 
Pushing back your mop of hair, you trotted into the kitchen, glanced at the time and then rolled over onto the couch from behind. You flopped onto the cushions, hair flying everywhere again before you stared blankly at the ceiling, wishing you weren't so terribly horny right now after just grazing a man's chest. How pitiful was that? You were an adult, had been for a good amount of years, and all it took was a deep voice and strong body to make you lose all sense of yourself? 
A soft whimper parted your mouth, the ache so desperate and painful that you gripped the fabric of your coveralls over your crotch and pressed into the sensation. Well, he couldn't walk anyways and you were the only one who lived in the house, so there was no risk in just relaxing here, was there? Despite it, you grabbed the nearby blanket and kicked off your overalls, returning a hand to the ailing point between your thighs. 
Cheeks flushed, neck cocked against the arm rest, you spun circles on the fabric, your pads picking up the wetness through the material. Maker, you were absolutely dripping, soaking through your panties, and making your fingers tacky. Hooking underneath the textile, you run your fingers along the warmth, licking your lips and closing your eyes -- the first thing coming to mind being Paz. The mystery of the man beneath, the muscular pillars of his body, the golden blonde curls against his broad chest. 
Your fingers move up to the bundle of nerves so desperate for attention, nearly screaming at you as you finally lavish attention. His voice, the deep rumble and attentiveness as you talk from where you sit in that chair beside the bed -- your bed. He was sleeping in your bed. Would it smell like him after? Would you ever wash the damn blankets after he left? Probably not. Edging yourself closer, you imagined his thick fingers plunging into your heat, reaching up into your molten core and--
"Tracyn?"
You nearly fell off the couch, clutching onto your sex for dear life as you froze. Your whole body vibrated, muscles stiffening as you fought off the white hot surge of an orgasm. How the fuck had he gotten out of the room? 
Tufts of your long hair were sticking out from the couch. No matter how far you slumped down, tried to hide beneath the edge of the blanket, your fucking hair was a blinding curly beacon and fluffing out as an admission of betrayal. 
You couldn't hold your breath any longer, the guttural whine hitching as the orgasm pittered into a woefully unsatisfying leap -- like a bird that had flung itself over a cliff with a broken wing, somewhat flying before it plummeted to the earth below. He came around the couch, still clutching his side, and paused. Now, the blanket was in the way, but your coveralls were crumpled on the floor and your face was deliciously flushed. 
Oh, stars you looked awful. You absolutely knew how dirty you felt by assuming that he'd not walk out and find you, hand slicked with your own wetness and too embarrassed to move. 
"What are you- Did I hurt you?" he asked, reaching down to snare the blanket away.
"N-no!" you gripped it with your free hand, but half of it was pulled away to reveal the outside of your bare leg, and the arm that was still hiding down there. 
"Were you...?" his helmet tilted as you both just remained where you were for a beat. Heart racing like fathiers on a track in Canto Bight, your lower lip trembled in shame, waiting for him to throw the blanket back over and return to the room. He was walking. He could just leave and let you wallow in your own miserable chagrin -- drown in it at this point... "Did you finish?"
"W-what?" you squeaked, face managing to deepen another shade of crimson. 
"Did you finish, mesh'la?" he repeated, sitting down on the couch by your feet, a tanned palm tracing the top of the foot. His skin was calloused, rough, and sandpapery. The foreign sensation made you shudder in his grasp, but it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, you liked the way his hand slowly coasted your calf in a soothing manner. "All alone on this big farm. Not another soul aside from Jumbles."
True, not another soul. You gave a quivering nod in agreement as his hand reached to graze the back of your knee. Still so gentle, with no insistency or malice. 
"Doing everything all on your own. The farm, helping me, taking care of yourself," his hand moved higher, framing the outside of your lower thigh, which caused you to jump. "You haven't once asked me for anything. No repayment or deal despite using that bacta... Couldn't have been cheap. This is just a moisture farm, you're not raking in credits..." He paused, grazing your upper thigh now, daring to push the blanket over a bit more. "For weeks now... Helping me... Did you finish?"
You had, but it hadn't been any good. Your stupid head bobs anyways, sending a few curls tumbling into your face. 
"Maybe-" he was drawing his hand back, the warmth of his scratchy fingers receding and you actually whined because of it, his helmet tilting back up to look at you. "Maybe," he was stronger now. "I can repay you a little for all you've done."
Maker, not a word came out of your mouth, you were nearly gnawing on the blanket from how nervous you were, but also from how much your core began aching again. 
"Do you want me to, mesh'la? I won't touch you unless you want it. I don't want to overstay my welcome, I just thought that-" he trailed off and you wondered what he had thought. Had you been so obvious about liking him? You didn't think so, you thought you had been your usually, dorky but polite self.
"I want you to," you insisted, releasing the blanket so that the rest could slip off and pool on the floor. You still had your shirt on, but you were nude from the hips down, fronds of hair curling over your mound that matched the drapes. This felt oddly... exposing, even if it was only the lower half. And the fact you couldn't read him didn't help, just a blank mask of a face that was drinking you in and you had no idea if he liked or disliked what he saw. What if you were not at all what he had been hoping for? What if he didn't like what he saw?
He groaned, his palm returning to your leg, sliding up and burning a blistering wake of fire before he curved into your hip and jerked you toward him. "Oh, mesh'la," he moaned. "A desert gemstone hidden in these canyons. How did I get so lucky? Of all the planets and places-" he touched you down there, the very sensation of hands not your own making you jolt and your neck tense. Fuck --- it really had been a long time. "Wh-when the last time... have you ever... ?"
"A fe-ew ye-ears now," you admitted as his fingers scissor up between your folds. "Be-been on m-my ow-own for si-six. N-not ma-any t-t-travelers."
"So wet," he muttered, bringing the slick up and pinning two fingers on your aching bud. Back stiffening, you bucket at the sensation, grounded by his other palm pressing into the hollow of your hip. You were halfway tugged onto his lap as he watched on with fascination, the curve of your left leg hooked against his hip. "What were you thinking of? Before I found you?"
You blush deeper, if that were at all possible, turning your face away from him as he continued to draw lazy circles on your clit. "Y-you."
His groans again, a growing hardness against your leg -- a hardness for you. It's hard to decide what is more startling -- the fact that Paz is here getting you off or that he's aroused by the fact that you'd been playing with yourself while envisioning him. "I'll take care of you. You deserve it mesh'la. After everything you've done for me. I'll make you feel good," he promised, increasing his pace, dipping in his ring and pinkie finger while he continued to oscillate against your bundle of nerves. His fingers stretched you, just as thick and delicious as you'd imagined -- no, it was better than you imagined because it was real. Pumping into you gently, reaching so much deeper than your own small fingers can. "Tight. Maker, you're so tight."
Squirming on the couch, you grabbed onto the cushioned as he pleasured you, coaxing you toward the end of days, making you see stars beneath your closed eyelids. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, a warbled cry strangled completely as your legs locked out and walls tightened to vice grip his fingers. 
"Cum on me, mesh'la. Let it all out, come on," he encouraged, his fingers quickening over your clit, your soul absolutely rending as you as ecstasy drowns your senses, your muscles clench, and the scenery of the house falls away. You're floating, physical body panning away from you as you bliss out and disconnect from your breathing and deflating heart rate. You'd never had an orgasm this heart stopping, so utterly piercing that you couldn't even tell where you were anymore. 
Finally, you blinked out of your stupor, expecting to be left laying cock legged and messy, but instead you're in bed. Your actual bed, not the twin one that you had been sleeping in the past few weeks. Rolling your head to the side, you didn't see him, but you heard him in the adjoining fresher. You had underwear back on and a pair of pajama bottoms. 
What the heck was happening? Did it matter? You just hoped it wasn't ending anytime soon.
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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years ago
Text
don’t forget to sing
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 4,973
summary: You meet someone new in the most unlikely of ways during the quarantine in New York City.  An alley is six feet apart, right?
chapter warnings: swearing, mention of sickness
masterlist
a/n: Let me know what you think!
This was just fucking perfect.
Of course.  Of course you’d move to New York City three weeks before a fucking pandemic.  Cities were a cesspool for illness, and the Big Apple was no exception.
Your dreams of going out and exploring the city and finding little spots that you could call your own now that you were a real New Yorker and not just a tourist anymore were gone.  You’d been so busy unpacking and getting set up at your new job that you’d only gotten to go out for groceries.
And now all of New York City was shut down.  Broadway was closed, for heaven’s sake.  You couldn’t remember a time when that had ever happened in your lifetime.
It was mildly terrifying.  And by mildly, you meant extremely.
Thankfully, your job was primarily online anyway.  You were a playwright and you were basically an intern and assistant for Tony Kushner, possibly one of the greatest playwrights of all time.
But you were lonely.  At least before you were ordered to stay home, you could go out and get a little human interaction at the grocery store, even if the cashier was just telling you your total.  But now, everyone at the grocery store eyed each other warily.  Like you’d infect them with the virus at any second.
Which, it was possible.  It was why you only went late at night in order to avoid most of the crowds.  And also why you’d sewn a mask out of an old t-shirt in order to protect yourself.  And also why you’d stocked up on groceries so you wouldn’t have to go for about two weeks.
“I don’t know,” you said as you held the phone to your ear, wandering back and forth in your tiny little apartment.  Your best friend was on the other side, a thousand miles away.  “It’s getting really bad here.”
And, of course, she could try to understand, but Hope was all the way across the country.  She’d gotten a job in her hometown in California after graduation.  “I think we’re starting to head that way, too.  Are you going to be okay?”
“I think so,” you said, trying to be cheerful as you sat at your desk, pulling your knees up to your chest.  “I’m used to being alone, remember?  I’m a writer.  All I need is coffee and my laptop and I’m ready to hibernate.”
Hope let out a sigh, and you could hear the creak of her bed as she laid down.  “I don’t know.  I just think that maybe you should come out here.”
“I can’t.  I don’t have that kind of money.  And I just got here.  I don’t want to run away at the first sign of trouble,” you said as you opened up your laptop.  “Besides, I’m probably safer here locked away in my apartment by myself than I would be in your big house with you, your parents, and Scott.  Your parents work in a lab with hundreds of other people.  They have no idea if any of them have it.  It’d probably be safer for you to come stay here with me.”
“Me in that shoe box?” She scoffed.  “As if.”
Your laptop whirred to life as you ran your finger back and forth over the mouse pad.  “We talked about this.  You’re a California girl.  I’m New York.”  A smirk settled over your face as you cradled the phone between your ear and your shoulder, typing in your password.  “Two households, both alike in dignity—”
“Jesus, theatre kids are the worst,” she muttered.
You barked out a laugh as you pulled up your latest word document.  “I’m a grown woman, you know.”  You reached over your desk and opened up the curtains, figuring you could use a little change of scenery, even if it was just the apartment building across the alley.  The red brick was illuminated by the setting sun, the sky painted in shades of orange and gold.
There’s a tense pause between the two of you.  There’s a lot of unspoken words.
The both of you know that this is serious.  People are dying and there’s nothing the two of you can really do except hope and stay inside as much as possible and wash your hands.  And this is the first time the two of you have lived apart since your sophomore year of university.  It’s a big change and of course, all this happens right when you’re on your own.
“Are you going to be okay?” Hope asked, her voice cracking.
Taking in a shaky breath, you rest her head in your hand.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I’ll be okay.  You just worry about staying healthy yourself, okay?  And take care of your parents.”
Her parents were both a little older, and they were at risk with everything going around.  They’d become your second family in the years since you’d first met Hope, and had even let you live with them for a while after graduation while you saved up for your move to New York City.  Hell, they’d paid for you to come spend school breaks with them.  They were your family.
And now you were all alone with no way to get to them.  Even if you did want to fly, all incoming and outgoing flights were being canceled.  They hadn’t officially announced that they’d be closing the airports, but it was coming.
A light in the apartment across the alley from yours flicked on, and your eyes were immediately drawn to it.
“Oh…,” you breathed out, accidentally cutting off what Hope was saying.
“What?”
“There’s a…  There’s a man.”
“A man?!  We are in a pandemic!  There’s no dating in a pandemic!”
You went quiet as your elbow rested on your desk, your chin in your hand.  “He’s… gorgeous.”
And gorgeous, he was.  He looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower, with the towel swung low on his hips.  Dark hair was smattered across his broad chest like some hero on the cover of a trashy romance novel.  He ran his fingers through his long, damp hair as he opened up the drawers of his dresser, picking out boxers and sweats.
“God…  He looks like he just walked off a photoshoot with, like… Vogue,” you said quietly.  Drool was starting to drip from the corner of your mouth, you were so entranced.
“Wait…  Really?” Hope said, her voice rising.  “I need details!  Now!”
Brows furrowed, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.  “You have a boyfriend.”
“Who I haven’t gotten to see in over a week.  Scott is the love of my life, but I need to live vicariously through you,” she said.  “The most romance we have right now is when his internet actually works and we get to FaceTime.”
You were in a trance, just watching him move around his room.  “You know how cute I thought Jimmy Woo was?  He was in my Econ class and then we went on, like… two dates?”
“Yeah.”
“I would feed Jimmy Woo to a pack of hyenas if this man asked me to.”
But of course, nothing good could last.  Your elbow slipped off the edge of the desk and your face slammed down onto the wood.  “Oh, my god,” you groaned as you fell to the ground, clutching your mouth.  “Holy fuck…”
Hope was shouting at you through the phone, demanding to know whether or not you were okay.  She was more frantic than you’d ever heard her.
Pulling your hand away from your face, you winced as you saw the dark red blood.  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit…”  You didn’t think you’d knocked out a tooth, thank god.  You were sure that you’d be able to feel that.  “Yeah…  I think I’m okay.”  You started to pull yourself up, glaring at the blood that was on the edge of the desk.
But when you found the Most Handsome Man in the World staring at you from his window, looking just as worried as Hope sounded in his towel, you quickly ducked back down, willing him to go away.  You don’t think you’d ever been so embarrassed.
“Hope, I’m going to throw myself from the Brooklyn Bridge,” you hissed into the phone as you sat on the floor, leaning against your desk.  “He saw me bust my face open!  Or he heard it!”
There’s a pause, and then a snort.  “You have to admit, it’s kinda funny.  And the type of thing that would only happen to you.”
“Gee, I’m so happy you’re having fun with this,” you said.
You stayed down there for an extraordinarily long time, hoping to whatever god was out there that he’d stop looking.  When you finally emerged from your hiding place, you found that he was watching a movie with his bedroom light off, his eyes completely focused on the television.
And there was a whiteboard leaning against the window, messy scrawl in blue marker.
Hope you didn’t hurt yourself too bad!!  And I’m glad you enjoyed the show ;)
More than a little appalled at how blatant he was, you grabbed a piece of notebook paper and a Sharpie, writing out your reply before sticking it to the window with a piece of tape.
Nothing but a busted lip and broken pride :(
You shut your curtains, carefully cleaning your wound before getting to work on your latest writing assignment.  Though occasionally, you could remember the strange interaction and a smile would creep across your face.
Which would then cause you to wince in pain as the cut on your lip came open again.
Right before you went to bed, you peeked out of your curtains to see if he’d replied again.
Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what I saw :)  Goodnight!
You quickly wrote out a reply, taping it up before heading to bed.
Pinky promise?  Goodnight!
When you woke up, there was already another note left for you, and the man seemed to be gone.
Good morning!  I hope your lips feel better!
You had no idea when he’d be back or why the hell he’d left.  It was a pandemic after all.
Granted, a lot of people still had to work in this whole mess.  It was ridiculous.
Feeling a little bold, you wrote out a message.
You wanna kiss it better?
But you quickly crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it away.  Despite the fact that you’d seen him almost completely naked the night before, you didn’t know him.  He’d only said three sentences to you so far, and they were written out.
It was the quarantine equivalent of sliding into someone’s direct messages on Twitter or Instagram.
Should you even reply?  He was…  He was the kind of guy you saw on Love Island.  Too perfect and too ripped and sweet and mysterious and friendly, all at the same time.
You’d been getting into a lot of shows you wouldn’t have watched before while quarantined.  You’d watched the entire first season of the American version of the show, and you’d probably start the United Kingdom version sometime that day.  It wasn’t like you had anything better to do.
“Have you written back to him?” Hope asked as you set up your laptop on your desk, pulling up Spotify.
“What?” You asked, your phone cradled between your ear and your shoulder.  “No.  It was a one time thing.  It’s done.”  Before she could reply, you said your goodbyes and hung up.  You really needed to clean and that wasn’t going to happen if you chattered away on the phone with Hope like you usually did.
Music blasted from your laptop’s speaker after you hit play, and you threw open the window, letting the late winter air in.  It had started to get really stuffy in your apartment and you needed something to do other than work and binge watching or you’d go insane.
You didn’t even notice that your neighbor that lived across the alley had come home, and was watching you with a delighted smile on his face.
You were half-dancing, half-cleaning, belting out the lyrics without a care as you got more and more into it.  “Didn’t even know it!  No punches left to roll with!  You got to keep me focused!  You want it?  Say so!” You sang, twirling around with your trash can in hand as you picked up all the various little items.  “Let me check my chest, my breath right quick!  He ain’t ever seen it in a dress like this!  He ain’t ever even been impressed like this!”
Unseen by you, the mysterious stranger took a few steps forward, grateful that he’d left his window open.
“Prolly why I got him quiet on the set like zip!  Like it, love it, need it bad!  Take it, own it, steal it fast!  Boy, stop playin!’  Grab my ass!  Why you acting like you—”  You turned around, breaking off with a squeak as you saw him standing there watching you, your trashcan and an empty mug in hand.  You were completely frozen as he stared at you with a slight smile, leaving you a deer in headlights.
Suddenly, you were hyper aware of just how awful you looked.  Your hair hadn’t been washed, or your face.  You were wearing a men’s two XL hoodie that you’d stolen from some guy you’d fucked for a few months in college and a pair of sweatpants that you’d had since you were on the middle school track team that were still too long in the feet.  You’d done shot put and discus.
Why the fuck were you thinking about shot put and discus?  You hadn’t thought about it over twelve years.  It wasn’t like you were ever any good at it.
The Most Handsome Man in the World was staring at you, holding a takeout box at a mug of tea.  But at least he was fully dressed, even if that didn’t awake away from how attractive he was.  “Hey,” he said with an easy smile.
“Hi.”  Your voice cracked as you spoke, and you’d never wanted to slam your head against the wall more.  How could you be this much of a fucking loser?
“I like your music choice.  Who is that?” He asked curiously as he set his food on the bed, kicking off his shoes before sitting down.
Yeah, he was definitely just as attractive fully clothed as he was naked, which was truly a feat in itself.  Surely there was some kind of award for that, right?
You realized you’d been staring at him in silence and coughed, replying, “Doja Cat.”
“How’s your lip?”
“Good.”
“Good.”
The two of you stared at each other, him happily munching on the chicken nuggets he’d picked up.  You hadn’t moved an inch.
“I’m James,” he said after swallowing.  “But my friends call me Bucky.”
You gave him your name as you slowly moved a few steps closer, sitting down in your desk chair and pulling your knees up to your chest.  “What kind of a name is Bucky?”
He chuckled, dipping his next nugget into the sweet and sour sauce.  “My middle name is Buchanan.  My best friend, Steve, started calling me Bucky when we were in kindergarten, and I don’t know… it just stuck.”
“I mean…”  You shrugged, wrapping your arms around her legs.  “‘S alright.  I like James though.”
“You can call me James.”
“Oh.  Okay.”
It felt intimate, somehow.  Calling him by his first name.
The quarantine was forcing people to revert back to Victorian ways of social conduct.  If you were lucky, you’d get your own Mr. Darcy.
But with the sweats you had on, it was more than likely that you’d end up an old spinster.
How did he find it so easy to talk to a complete stranger?  Granted, you were a lot less intimidating than he was.
“How’s your lip?” He asked, his head tilting to the side as he peered over at you.  ��You don’t need stitches, right?”
There was an unspoken worry there.  Needing stitches meant you’d probably go without, since all the hospitals were so backed up with those that had fallen ill.  And going to the hospital just meant you’d risk your own health by coming in close contact with those going to get treated for Covid-19.
“If you do, I have a first aid kit I keep here in my apartment with the stuff to do stitches,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “But I wouldn’t exactly be able to come over there to help you.  You’d have to do the stitches yourself.”
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.  “Why do you have the stuff to do stitches in your first aid kit?  I did see this one episode of one of those crime shows where they used safety pins to hold a gash open, but I can’t remember what show it was.”
Mirth sparkled in his eyes as he watched you.  “I’m a nurse.”
“Oh,” you said, relaxing.  But then you remembered, and your heart sank.  “Oh.  I… James.”
James looked rather sheepish as he looked down at his feet.  “It’s nothing really.  But I can’t use the elevator since it would risk someone being in an enclosed space with me.  So… you know.  I don’t really need leg day, right?”  He let out a weak laugh, clearly trying to blow it off.  “I’m not allowed to use the gym anymore.  Not that I would.  I don’t want to risk infecting anyone, even if I don’t have it yet.”
The way he said ‘yet’ hurt your heart.  He knew the position he was in, how dangerous it was.
There was nothing you could really say to him.  What the hell could you say?  Thank you for your service?  Technically, you could, but you remembered how your dad had felt about it.  He’d been a field doctor over in Afghanistan until he’d died on his fifth tour.
“I was just doing what needed to be done, sweetheart,” he’d said to you when you’d asked.  “Trying to save as many people as possible.  I don’t need thanks for that.”
But fuck.  James was going out everyday to fight an opponent that he couldn’t see.
“My lip is fine,” you said eventually, breaking the silence with a weak smile.
“Good,” he said, clearing his throat.  “I’ll let you get back to your solo concert.  I’ve gotta shower.”
Things went on as normally.  Or, at least, as normal as things could be in a time like that.  Only now, you had someone to talk to that wasn’t Hope every night.
He wouldn’t tell you about what it was like at the hospital though.  He’d get this far away look in his eyes and his face would pale.  “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, darlin,’” he’d croon, a sad smile on his lips.  “You let me worry, and you just keep yourself safe and inside, okay?”
Sometimes you’d miss him.  He’d be at the hospital for days on end, sleeping in on-call rooms and eating from vending machines.  That’s when you’d leave little notes all over your window for him to read when he got back.
But then one day he came home and you could just tell that he was more worn down that usual.
“James?” You called out softly as you pushed the window open.  You hadn’t seen him in two days.  “Are you okay?”  You leaned half out the window, your elbows resting on the ledge.
He took in a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he willed himself not to cry.
“James?”  You’re about to repeat your question when he looks up, staring blankly at the wall.
“Steve has it,” he said quietly, his voice cracking.
Your heart stopped inside your chest.  “Oh.  Oh, James…,” you breathed out.
A few tears slipped down his cheeks, his hands clenched at his sides.  “I went into a room in the ER and there he was.”
You’d heard so many stories about his best friend since childhood that you felt like you knew Steve already.  Bucky had met him when they were just five years old, on the first day of kindergarten, and it’d been history from there.  But Steve had been sickly and small up until they were about seventeen, when he’d undergone some revolutionary clinical trial.  Fixing his heart and lungs had kick started his entire system and it was like everything magically went away.
“Not even that stupid treatment prevented him from getting sick,” Bucky said quietly.  “He looked…  He looked like he was on his deathbed.”
You paused, before crawling out of the window and out onto the fire escape.  “James, take my hand.”
You knew it was stupid.  It was really, really stupid.  He was around those with the virus daily, but he needed you.  You’d risk it to give him a little bit of comfort.
“What?” He said, looking at you like you’d grown a second head.  “No.  No.  I can’t.  What if I give it to you?”
“Then we’ll figure it out,” you said, insistently holding your hand out to him.  “Take my hand.”
Sniffling, he reached his hand out of his window and took yours, your fingers intertwining.  He took in a shaky breath, a fresh wave of tears coming on as he squeezed his eyes shut.  “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted after a long moment just holding your hand.  “I’m so fucking scared.  I don’t want to go in there day after day.  I know people need me but I…”  He looked up at you with sea glass eyes.  “I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to,” you said firmly, with as much conviction as you could muster up.  “You hear me?  You’re not going to die, and neither is Steve.  We’re going to make it through this.”
“Sometimes I just… hold their hand,” he said, so quiet you could barely hear.  “They’re dying alone.  Their family and friends aren’t allowed in to see them.  So I just… stay with them.  So they have someone there.”  Bucky lets his head fall into his chest, his shoulders slumping.  “And then I have to call the family to let them know.  And I just hope that maybe…  knowing I was there with them helps a little.  But it’s not the same.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, not daring to look down because you’re several stories up and if you lean a little too far, it would result in a trip to the hospital you can’t afford.  You haven’t been outside in days.
You don’t realize that you’re crying right along with him until you taste the salty brine of your tears on your lips.
“We’re going to be okay, James,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.  “This won’t last forever.  And I’m going to be here with you, okay?  No matter what happens.  I’m here.  I’ve got you.”
He squeezed your hand once more before letting go, nodding for you to go back inside.  “Go wash your hands.  Now.”
A smile creeps across your face as you surrender to his wishes, crawling back through your window.  “Yes, sir.”
He’s touch and go the next few days.  Sometimes he seems upbeat, positive even, about the whole situation.  Others…  Well.  He had plenty of reason to be down.
“You know, you’re a pretty good singer,” he commented one night.  He was sitting against the window, leaning his head against the frame.  You had climbed out onto the fire escape again with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.  “That night that I heard you singing to that song…  The Doja Cat one?  You’re good.”  His head tilted to the side in the way that a puppy might.  “Why don’t you sing more often?”
“I used to,” you said after a deep sigh.  “I used to sing a lot.  I was going to be a musical theatre actress.  But I got told so often that I was better at writing than performing so… I don’t know.  I guess I just decided it’d be better to pursue something I was better at.”
His lower lip was caught between his teeth as he looked at you.
You’d never had someone look at you the way he did.  Like he wanted to see all of you, like he craved it, needed it, even.  It was exhilarating.
“That doesn’t mean you stop singing.”  He moved to rest his chin in his palm.  “Even if you don’t become a performer professionally, you don’t stop singing.  Especially in times like these.”
“What?  Like those fake videos of people in Italy?” You asked with a snort.  A breeze wound through the alley and you tightened the blanket around you.  “The one that Katy Perry retweeted?”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said with an eye roll.  “My ma used to sing around the house.  Hearing you…  It made me feel like I was home again.  Just for a little while.”  He smiled slyly.  “And you have pretty sick dance moves.”
Groaning, you climbed back into your window, shooting a glare at him.  “You promised not to talk about my dancing!”
“It was cute!”
“Was not!”
“Was to!”
You took in a deep breath as you stared at him with narrowed eyes.  “No,” you said, pointing a finger at him.  “No, it’s not.”  Before he could reply, you started to shut the window, calling out, “Goodnight, James!”  The window shut with a definitive click and you winked as he flipped you the middle finger.
Steve came home three weeks later, completely clean of the virus.  The quarantine finally ended on May 22nd, 2020, the amount of cases down to maybe a hundred that were contained within the hospital.
In that time, you’d gone outside a total of six times to get groceries.  You’d gained ten pounds, even with the basic exercises you were doing in your apartment to keep you active.  You’d also saved up two thousand dollars, since you weren’t going out and you’d put a parental lock on your laptop and phone so you couldn’t go online shopping until further notice, but you were lucky in that way.  You had an extremely well-paying job that you could do online, and your boss wasn’t an asshole.
Millions of New Yorkers flooded the streets, crying and hugging and touching everyone.
You hadn’t been touched in so long.  The last time had been when you’d held Bucky’s hand on your balcony, and that had been the only time he’d allowed it since he didn’t want to get you sick.
He’d been lucky that he didn’t get it himself.  Most of those that had fallen ill were healthcare workers.  Overworked, tired healthcare workers.
You stepped out of the front doors of your apartment building, feeling an overwhelming sense of elation.  You’d already talked to Hope that morning on FaceTime.  Her and her parents were celebrating by going to their favorite restaurant that was allowing dine-in again.
Tears pricked your eyes as you watched the people around you.  It reminded you a little bit of those pictures of V-Day in New York City at the end of World War II.
But where was Bucky?
He’d been at work yesterday, and since you hadn’t seen him, it probably meant that he’d passed out in an on-call room instead of coming home.
But you needed to see him.  You didn’t care if he was all gross and greasy.  You just needed him.
You loved him.
Your eyes locked in on a familiar head of long, brown hair sticking a little bit above the crowd.  He was awful tall.  When he turned his head, it only confirmed it.  “JAMES!” You shouted, trying to break through the roar of the crowd.  “JAMES!”
His brows furrowed, his head turning a little towards the sound of his voice.  When his eyes landed on you they went wide as saucers, his lips forming your name even though you couldn’t hear him over the people.
The two of you pushed through the hordes of people, trying to reach one another.  When you finally broke through, you threw yourself into his arms, your arms wrapping around his neck as he twirled you around.  The both of you were crying happy tears, wide smiles on your faces.
“We made it,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “We’re okay.”  You pulled back enough to cup his face, so many words you wanted to say getting caught in your throat.
But before you could say them, he pulled you into a kiss, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your hip.  Grinning against your lips, he dipped you just a little, holding you tight.  To passerby, it was a remnant of the iconic V-Day kiss.  But you couldn’t think about that.  All you could think about was Bucky.
“Hi,” he said softly as he pulled away, breathing heavily.
Your nose nudged against his as your eyes fluttered open.  “Hi.”
He stole another kiss, your heart skipping a beat inside your chest.  “You better not stop singing now that this is over,” he said quietly as he held you to him, refusing to let go.  “Can’t go a day without hearing your pretty voice.”
“You’re a sap.”
“Your sap.”
“My sap?!”
He had a cheeky smile as he looked at you, cupping your cheeks.  “Does this mean I can take you on a date now?”
You were lucky.  You knew people who got the virus, but none of them had died.  Others didn’t have the same luck unfortunately, and it was a tragedy.  But you don’t stop singing during dark times.  You just sing a little louder.
931 notes · View notes
jabbajambler · 4 years ago
Text
20
Human
The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC
Word Count: 2,267
*GIF by @gffa​*
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         "That doesn't make any sense." Din sighed as we walked back through the entrance to the hangar. "You're contradicting yourself."
         "No... All I'm saying is that while facial hair is attractive, it can get really annoying and scratchy when you're kissing and stuff." I explained while waving my hands around my face.
         It was a strange topic of conversation, sure, but he asked what made me so 'attracted' to Toro and I had to make something up. It got me thinking though. Does Din have facial hair? When does he shave? Does he cut his own hair or does he grow it out?
         "You've kissed someone before?" His voice lowered as he stopped and turned towards me.
         "Oh, Din." I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows. "I've done a lot more than kissing before."
         I heard him let out a quiet, shaky breath before walking up the ramp of the ship. I giggled as I ran after him. It was fun when it was just the two of us goofing around. It reminded me of my earlier years here on Tatooine.
         Of course I enjoyed teasing him as well. It was hard to break through his shell. Now, I wanted to see how far I could go.
         This was dangerous territory, us traveling together. Since the beginning I felt this...passion. Passion was dangerous for Jedi, that's what they were told.
         I was thankful that I was no Jedi. At least, I wasn't trained to be.
         My thoughts were interrupted by Din running over to me and grasping my forearms tightly. His breathing was heavy and his hands seemed to shake.
         "The kid... He's gone, he- Hey!" He shouted and ran towards the woman in her glass office.
         "I'm awake! I'm awake!" The mechanic, Peli, had come out of the room with the crying child in her arms, trying to shush him.
         "Where is he?" Din growled, threatening the droids. I quickly snatched my blaster, readying it to fire.
         "Quiet!" Peli approached up, bouncing the sniffling child. "It's okay... You woke it up! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it to sleep?"
         "Give him to me." I hissed and placed my blaster back on my thigh.
         "Not so fast! You can't just leave a child all alone like that. You know, you two have an awful lot to learn about raisin' a young one."
           Din and I both went quiet, silently agreeing with the woman. She was right. Neither one of us knew anything about taking care of a child. We thought that we would just figure out along the way, but it wasn't going so well.
         "Anyway, I started the repair on the fuel leak." She began, messing with a machine next to the ship. "There you go. I had a couple setbacks I want to talk to you about. You know, I didn't use any droids, as requested, so it took me a lot longer than I expected."
         Din sighed, trying to block out the rambling woman as he walked up the ramp to grab a bag of necessities for the both of us.
         "But I figured you were good for the money since you have your girl and an extra mouth to feed."
         The child cooed in response, gazing up at us. I practically melted under his loving stare.
         "Thank you." We said in sync, looking to each other before agreeing to say nothing else and walk out the door.
         "Oh, I guess I was right. You got a job, didn't you? You know, it's costing me a lot of money to keep these droids even powered up." She followed us, continuing her never ending rant.
         "Hey, Mando, Pretty girl, what do you think?" Toro sat against an old dingy speeder bike with another one across from him. "Not too shabby, huh?"
         Din set the back on the back of the bike, refusing to acknowledge either one of the people talking to him. I saw Toro's eyes watching me so I finally decided to stroll over to him.
         "My name's Myrah, actually, but thank you." I messed with the front of his open vest, cautious of my fingers brushing against his chest.
         Toro looked over my shoulder, presumably at Din who was likely staring at us with a disapproving look. He was protective as hell and for what?
         "What'd you expect? This ain't Corellia." He nodded towards Peli, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the green child. "Ma'am."
          He sat on his bike gesturing towards the extra space on the back. I sighed. "I'm sorry Toro." I looked back at Din who focused on fastening our bag. "I have to stick with my partner, you know? He wouldn't be able to do it without me."
         I could see Din's chest lift as he chuckled and swung his leg over the seat. I followed his actions and wrapped my arms loosely around his torso. He seemed to hesitate, his body relaxing in my touch. I would have relished in the feeling, but the sound of Toro's bike speeding off ahead of us brought me back to reality.
         "Are we going?" I teased as I laid my head on his shoulder. He scoffed and revved the bike's engine. Before I knew it, we were shooting off after Toro.
         We raced over the sand dunes, occasionally speeding ahead of the other. I laughed and tucked my face in his neck to shield myself from the flying sand. I wondered if I could see my old home from here.
         I couldn't help but enjoy the moment of freedom. Flying through the air with my hair flowing behind me made me forget that we were on a mission in the first place.
         As long as we were together, I was sure that any place could be as wonderful as Sorgan.
         Din raised his fist and slowed down our bike with Toro quickly following his actions.
         "What's going on?"
         "Look. Up ahead." Din pointed in the distance where a couple of large animals stood. I lifted my head and rested my chin against his shoulder, following his gaze.
         Toro hopped off of his bike and grabbed his binoculars. He gazed through the scopes and moved closer to the edge of the sand dune, his face scrunching up in disgust.
         "Tusken raiders. I heard the locals talking about this filth."
         "Tuskens think they're the locals." I loosened my grip on Din as he spoke, relaxing against the back of the bike. "Everyone else is just trespassing."
         "They're not so bad if you try to reason with them." I shrugged.
         Toro scoffed. "Whatever they call themselves, they best keep their distance."
         "Yeah?" Din spoke, his tone becoming more humorous and sarcastic. "Why don't you tell them yourself?"
         Toro spun around to be met by two Tuskens, their hands loaded with weapons. I snorted, watching him jump back in fear of the raiders.
         Din slid off of the bike and helped me down as well, his hand loosely grasping mine until we stood next to Toro. "Relax." He mumbled under his breath.
         He began communicating with the sand people through their native sign language. I was shocked that he could communicate so well with them, but managed to sound like an absolute idiot with the Jawas.
         "What are you doing?" Toro spoke, clearly confused by Din's actions. I guess if you didn't know their language, it would be a bit odd.
         "Negotiating." He spoke quickly before continuing the silent conversation with the two.
         "What's going on?"
         "We need passage across their land... Let me see the binocs."
         "Why?"
         Din gave him an annoyed look, tilting his head. He held out his hand, completely unwilling to argue about the situation. If this was their land, then my home couldn't be too far. Maybe I could pay it a visit.
         Toro set the binoculars in his hand while rolling his eyes. Din tossed them at the Tuskens' feet and spun on his heel, walking back to the bikes.
         "What- Hey- Ugh!" Toro sighed and threw his head back in annoyance. "Those were brand new."
         "Yeah?" Din asked. "They were."
         I laughed and covered my mouth in an attempt to muffle my giggles. I threw my leg over the bike's seat behind Din, unable to contain my laughter anymore resulting in a sharp look from Toro.
         Din revved the entire and almost immediately sped off, catching me off-guard. Before I knew it, we were already stopping again. This time, however, he immediately hopped off the bike.
         "Get down." He demanded.
         "What? Oh." Toro followed us as we crouched behind a sandy hill.
         It appeared to be a body on the ground, dragged by a grunting Dewback. Strange. Not exactly a normal sight in Tatooine.
         "Alright, tell me what you see." He told Toro.
         "Well..." He turned to me, a smirk evident in his features. "I see a gorgeous woman."
         I smiled and rolled my eyes playfully while Din gave us both a sharp look, his voice going monotonous. "I meant over the hill."
         "Dewback. Looks like the rider is still attached... Is that her? Is that the target?"
         "I don't know... I'll go." Din grabbed his blaster and looked between the two of us. "You two cover me. Stay down."
         He stood and jogged towards the large animal while Toro and I grabbed our blasters.
         "So, are you two not a thing?"
         "What?" I felt my cheeks grow warm at the question. "No, no we're just partners."
         "You two seem pretty close."
         "We've been through a lot together. I trust him with my life."
         He hummed. "You ever seen his face?"
         "No." I shook my head. "I haven't. It's against the code."
         "Don't you ever wonder what he looks like?" He questioned and leaned towards me.
         I opened my mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. I had thought about what he looks like. In fact, I think about it every time I talk to him. Every little piece of him was left a mystery and I both hated and loved it. It left me feeling like I needed to know more.
         "Well, is it her? Is she dead?" Toro shouted as he looked over the hill.
         "It's another bounty hunter."
         "Hey, I hope you don't plan on keeping all that stuff for yourself... Can I at least have that blaster?"
         I rolled my eyes and continued to watch my partner. The more time I spent with the newbie, the less attractive he became. Still, I couldn't ignore what my mind was trying to tell me. Was I supposed to be careful with him? Or was I supposed to play into this?
         "Get down!" Din yelled back at us.
         I heard the soft ding of a shot hit the beskar of his armor. I knew he was safe, that was the important thing.
         There was another ding and Din was flung over the edge of the hill. My eyes widened as I grasped his arms tightly in my hands, scanning over his body to check for any injuries.
         "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I asked, the panic clear in my voice.
         "I'm fine." He sighed and relaxed in the sand.
         "What happened?" Toro looked over, confused.
         "Sniper bolt." Din took another breath and crawled next to Toro. "Only an MK-modified rifle could make that shot."
         "Are you alright?"
         "Yeah... Hit me in the beskar, and at that range, beskar held up."
         "And thank Kriff for that." I let out a breath of relief, unable to take my eyes off of him. If he had gotten hurt, I don't know what I would have done.
         "Wait..." Toro paused. "I don't wear any beskar."
         Din shrugged. "Nope."
         "Well, so what do we do?"
         "There isn't much we can do right now." I put my blaster back in its holster. "When it's dark, we can go. She has the high ground here and trust me, she won't waste it."
         Din nodded and slid towards the bikes. "I'm gonna rest. You take the first watch." He pointed to Toro. "Stay low."
         I smiled and slid after Din, leaving Toro to stand guard alone. "Mind if I join you?" I watched as he sunk down and leaned against the speeder bike.
         He raised his head and shrugged. "Nope."
         I lowered myself next to him and rested my head against his shoulder. I cautiously reached for his hand, threading my fingers between his. "You're okay? Like, really?"
         "Yes, I am." He huffed and allowed himself to relax as he rested his head on top of mine. "You worry too much."
         "It's because I care... You know, this planet really isn't so bad." He hummed in slight intrigue. "I used to live here... On Tatooine. Before everything got chaotic and people began supporting the Rebellion. I lived with this kind couple and their little girl. She lives on Coruscant now, but I would love to visit her again."
         "Why did you leave?"
         "The man had to go help some boy, roughly my age, I guess. So, us three girls all left for Coruscant... Then we heard threats of the Empire coming to find us and I had to leave." I shrugged, my grip on his hand tightening.
          He sighed and began rubbing my hand with his thumb. I glanced down at our intertwined hands and felt a flurry of butterflies in my stomach.
         "I wish we could stay like this..." I mumbled.
         "I know."
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koko-doodle · 4 years ago
Text
FEM Shattered!Dream AU - The Black Apple
(This is my take on how Shattered!Dream came to be. In this version Dream is female and Nightmare is Male)
Nightmare smirked as he watched a version of Frisk decimate the entire town of Snowdin in a genocide run. He could feel the pain, fear, and pure agony fill him with energy. He let his leg swing back and forth over the side of the branch he was perched on. It was such a “pleasant” day for Nightmare, nothing but silent snow falling and the occasional scream of a dying monster. He let out a relaxed sigh and closed his eye.
“Hey, Boss!”
Nightmare opened his eye and scowled as he looked down to the base of the tree, there stood Killer giving a partial wave. He grumbled as he stood up and jumped down from his spot, landing in the snow with a loud crunch.
“What? I thought I told you not to bother me with your ugly face today” he hissed.
“Yeah yeah you need your ‘beauty’ rest today” said Killer, making a quotation mark gesture with his hands. “But you know I wouldn’t bother you without a good reason”.
“Well it better be a good one, for your own sake. What is it?” Nightmare said folding his arms and raising a brow while he waited for a response.
“I was out making my rounds when I came across this....” Killer pulled out a small letter from inside his hoodie and offered it to Nightmare. “It has your name on it.”
“A letter... you’re bothering me about a letter? Are you some kind of underverse mailman now?” he snickered and laughed. “Go do your JOB Killer. And DON’T bother me again today.”
“It’s from Dream, Nightmare.” Killer quickly retorted.
Nightmare looked down at the note being offered to him. On the front of the letter was his name written neatly in the center of the envelope. He snatched the letter and turned it over seeing the envelope sealed with a golden apple wax seal. Nightmare scoffed.
“She wants to be pen pals now huh? This is just getting ridiculously pathetic...” he chuckled making a move to rip it in half but paused. He hummed softly as he thought and stared at the note. “Well, maybe it will at least be entertaining” he said waving a hand at Killer. “You can leave now, go back to keeping an eye on that ink stain. I don’t want him giving any more AU’s hope or positive feelings.”
“Sure Night. Just try not to give yourself a paper cut, princess” Killer stated with a smirk. He vanished before Nightmare could land a tentacle on him.
“Tch... Smartmouth...” Nightmare muttered under his breath. He inspected the letter turning it over and back several times. After staring at the wax seal on the back for a few minutes he finally rolled his eye and ripped open the letter aggressively. He yanked out the note and unfolded it. The note was written with nearly perfect handwriting, almost as if it were printed. The paper was a soft yellow with a decorative floral pattern surrounding the boarder. Just the sight of it made Nightmare sick, it reeked of positivity. He sighed and leaned up against the tree as he began to read the note.
Nightmare,
I hope this letter finds you. I would like to speak with you, just you and I with no one else. I want to make a deal. If you come and speak with me I vow to never interfere with your business again. I just want to talk one last time as siblings, please. Then you won’t have to deal with me bothering your plans again. I’ll be waiting at our spot around dusk. I will be unarmed and will not draw any weapon on you. Please come...
~Dream
Nightmare chuckled as he read the note, Dream couldn’t be serious. The deal she wanted to make was outrageous, could she really promise something like that and actually follow through with it? Would she really stay away from him if he went to this ‘meeting’? Not likely. He sneered and ripped up the note letting the pieces fall into the snow.
“Yeah right... I’m not THAT stupid Dream. ‘Oh I just want to talk’” he said mimicking Dream’s voice. “That’s the oldest and dumbest trick in the book.... Idiot.”
He continued to think on the contents of the letter, reciting it over in his head. The more he thought about it the more he realized Dream could never actually pull off something like that. She may be clever and sly at times but setting a trap was not her style. Since breaking away from Ink after the whole X-Event, she has been working alone. He looked up and watched as the snow fell. The human in this AU was making their way out of Snowdin, he would have to move in order to continue feeding on the negativity. As he pondered on his choices, he finally unfolded his arms and stepped away from the tree.
“Alright Dream, fine. I’ll indulge you in your little game this time but only to watch you struggle as you try to apologize for the millionth time.” He looked down at the pieces of the letter laying in the snow. “Seeing you suffer will be worth the trip...”
________________
Dream sat alone in an empty universe staring off into nothing. She gripped a glass of juice tightly in her hands as she waited. She hoped with all her soul Nightmare found her letter and would come. This was her last chance to bring her brother back, if she failed there would be nothing left she could do. She would have to accept that Nightmare was truly lost to corruption. She rubbed her thumbs on the glass and stared into the liquid. She rehearsed in her mind some of the incidents where she had tried to stop him. They had almost killed each other several times but never took the final step. They knew each other’s limit and they had both pushed that limit to the brink of breaking.
“Hey airhead....” said a voice from behind. Dream quickly turned to see Nightmare staring down at her.
“Brother...” She made a move to stand up but Nightmare shoved her shoulder to keep her seated.
“DON’T move from that spot or I’ll leave, got it?” he said scowling. Dream gave a small nod in agreement and Nightmare sat down next to her, keeping a foot or two of distance between them. Dream reached behind her and grabbed a glass of juice off a tree stump and offered it to her brother. He stared at the glass confused.
“It’s just a drink Night, it used to be your favorite juice...” she continued to hold the glass. Nightmare was refusing to take it but Dream was not going to take no as an answer. He snatched the glass and inspected it. It looked fine, he brought the glass to his nose and smelled it. He took a small sip. It was cranberry juice, it had been one one of his favorite drinks the villagers made that he and Dream had made a weekly routine to enjoy.
“Really? You must be extremely desperate to pull this card on me” he chuckled. “Bring me back here to mom’s tree, my favorite drink, making a deal.... oh how far you’ve fallen Dream” he sneered and continued to enjoy his juice.
“.... Night...” she began softly but was cut off by her brother.
“That’s Nightmare to you DREAM, you haven’t earned the right to use that nickname anymore.”
“Right....” she said. Dream took a deep breath before speaking again. “Do you remember the fairytales we used to read together? There were so many adventures we went on, you always made them so exciting and real...” she smiled. “I remember my favorite one was the tale of the twins who were separated at birth, one was being kept slave to a dragon while the other fought to free their sibling. You could feel the love they shared for each other, even though they had no real memory of one another.”
“You remember they both die at the end don’t you? They spent only minutes together before both dying trying to save the other from the dragon. There was no happy ending in that story Dream” he hissed back annoyed.
“But they were both happy in the last moments they had together... It was a beautiful story.”
“Your point?” Nightmare growled.
“Nothing... I just miss the moments we spent together, I never wanted anything to change.”
“Exactly, thats why this whole mess is your fault. You were always so caught up in your own fairytale in your head that you refused to see what was really going on. You didn’t want to. You only cared about yourself and your dumb fantasies” he retorted frustrated.
“That’s not true...” Dream whispered to herself. Nightmare’s tentacles began to shift irritatedly.
“Oh it’s not? Let’s review the facts shall we? When I would come home with cuts and bruises every other day from being beaten and abused you did nothing. Sure you may have asked if something was wrong but anyone with half a skull wouldn’t have taken ‘I’m fine’ as an answer. Every Frisk in the underverse can tell when something is really wrong with their friends and they are just a child. But you couldn’t even see the pain and suffering I was going through. You’re own brother, you refused to listen to because you’re an idiotic toddler only seeing what you want to see.”
“I know!” Dream shouted. Nightmare glanced over at her surprised of the sudden outburst. “I was so caught up in everything, all the new experiences and new feelings I was blinded... everything was going so well, I thought we were happy... I didn’t want it to ever end...” she gripped the glass in her hand tighter and her eyes filled with tears. “I was weak and small minded... I could have done better, I SHOULD have done better.”
“Yeah you should have. Everything, all of this is your fault Dream. You couldn’t save me then and you can’t save me now. You only ever make things worse, even Cross is upset with you” Nightmare stated. Several tears fell to the ground and Dream looked the opposite direction from Nightmare. “Yeah I know about your little argument. I felt his anger and disappointment in you. You really must have done something awful for him to have such negative feelings towards you. It’s quite ironic since you are the guardian of positive emotions. You broke his fragile little soul, almost makes me proud of you” he laughed.
“I... I know... everything is my fault. I can’t ever protect anyone that matters to me...” Dream said softly between tears.
“Wait, you’re actually agreeing with me? I can’t believe it. Its taken you this long to realize how horrible of a being you are” Nightmare stated happily. Dream had never admitted to being wrong in all the years since Dreamtale had fallen. She had always blamed him for not telling her more. The fight with Cross must have really done a number on her and Nightmare was enjoying digging the knife in deeper.
“You’re right... I am horrible... I’ve made awful decisions that have hurt others. Others only love me because of my positive aura, not because I am a good person... I’m lost without you Nightmare...”
Nightmare couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It filled him with such pleasure to see Dream in such a low state, to see her suffer. While he loved what he was seeing and hearing, something wasn’t quite right. This was not a typical behavior for Dream, had she finally snapped? He knew where Dream was headed with the conversation, she was going to ask for his help but why should he help her? She never gave a second thought when he was suffering alone in agony. It’s only fair he return the favor.
“Lost without me? Oh how sad, look I’m crying” he said sarcastically making a crying face and laughed. “You’ve done this to yourself sis, what goes around comes around. You’re finally getting a taste of what I had to go through and it sucks doesn’t it?” Nightmare finished his drink and tossed the glass, watching it shatter on the ground. He stole the glass from Dream’s hands and stood up. “It’s time you grow up and take responsibility for your actions. I hope you have fun suffering all alone because you’ve lost everyone who would even care if you’re hurting. No one is going to even miss you” he sneered and drank all the contents in Dream’s glass before shattering it on the ground right next to her. “Have a nice life SIS.”
He laughed as he began to walk away. This meeting was completely worth every second. He got to see his sister at her lowest point and cause her even more misery. He couldn’t have planned it better himself and now, she won’t bother him in his business. At least until she breaks her promise but he should be able to get a good amount of chaos in before that happens. He reveled in the glory of finally winning over dream until he felt a strong pain hit his chest and stopped. The pain hit again even harder causing him to let out an audible cry. The pain started to spread to his entire body which made him fall to his knees.
“I know you will never forgive me for what I did to you... and continue to do. I only ever wanted us to be happy but because of me you’ve lost the ability to feel happiness...” Dream said standing up.
“WHAT did you DO?!” Nightmare shouted, he could barely manage to scream audible words at her. His whole body felt like it was on fire, he coughed uncontrollably and began to vomit black liquid. He felt as if his bones were sliding off his body but when he looked at his hands, he shouted in terror. The black liquid he was composed of was oozing out of his form, exposing his real bones. The goo formed a puddle all around him as it continued to vacate his body. The pain began to shift back to the center of his chest. He cried in agony as his soul and his right eye began to burn one last time, he raised a hand to his eye to try and keep the pain from spreading again. By the time the pain subsided and he opened both his eyes, Dream was right in front of him on her knees. She was saying something but nightmare couldn’t hear anything due to his ears ringing. Everything felt like a muffled blur.
“...! N-......! Night.....! Nightmare!!!” Dream’s shouts finally became audible and Nightmare shifted his gaze towards her locking his eyes with hers. Her eyes were filled with tears, she was crying uncontrollably.
“D....Dream...?” He said, only managing a whisper.
“Nightmare!!!!” She tackled him overjoyed. “It worked! I can’t believe it! You’re back!” She held him tight and he let out a pained gasp. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m just so glad to see you. The REAL you...” Dream let go and sat back wiping her tears away. Nightmare looked down at himself, he flipped his hands over and back then inspected the rest of his body. He was no longer covered in black ooze, he could feel solid bone.
“What.... what did you do?” Nightmare said horrified. He never thought he would ever see himself in this form again. Feelings of joy, happiness, and pleasure as well as all sorts of positive feelings began to fill his entire body and he couldn’t stop himself from crying.
“I brought you home brother...” she took his hands in hers and stared into his eyes smiling. “Welcome back...”
“But how... It’s not... I don’t understand...” Nightmare was overwhelmed by everything, he could barely form a sentence.
“Don’t worry.... I vowed I would make you happy again... and I am so glad I was able to be here to see it” she smiled and wiped more tears away.
“What do you mean?” Just as Nightmare asked the question all the black ooze gathered in one spot and solidified itself into a single black apple. They both stared at it, Nightmare was shocked. Before he could reach the apple Dream snatched it away from him. She held onto it and looked away from Nightmare’s gaze.
“It doesn’t matter.... you’re home now... can’t we just enjoy this one moment together?” Dream still avoided looking at Nightmare.
“Dream... what’s going on? Give me that apple” he said sternly.
“No... I’ve worked so hard to get to this point.... I just want to enjoy this last happy moment with you...”
“You have exactly 5 seconds to explain what the HECK you just did to me Dream!!!” Nightmare was frustrated and getting scared. She finally locked eyes with him then looked down at the apple before standing up with a deep sigh.
“I’ve been trying and trying to find a way to bring you back to me... and after all these years, I finally learned how to make a golden apple.”
“You what?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I knew if I did you would never try it... So I had to find a way to get you to eat it without actually biting it... So...” She looked back to the glass he had shattered right next to her, it had a faint yellow tint to it rather than red.
“You.... how did you know I would take your drink?!” he asked.
“We may not be close but you are still my brother... I know you...” she smiled a pained smile and took a few steps back. “I’ve learned throughout the years that you can’t get rid of negativity... we tried so hard to kill each other but we were missing the solution. Dark and light can’t be destroyed, they have to both coexist to keep the balance. While they can’t be destroyed they can be.... transferred.”
“What are you saying....?” He was starting to understand what had happened and he was terrified what Dream was going to say next.
“If I can’t make you happy, then I’m going to give all my happiness to you.... You’ve suffered for long enough Nightmare, its my turn...”
“You can’t be serious, it’s not possible you can’t just switch.... souls...” His eyes widened and he drew his soul from his chest. Instead of a black apple form it was gold with a black center. Realization and terror swept across Nightmare and he jumped to his feet. “Dream this isn’t funny! Whatever joke you’re trying to pull you can stop now!”
“It’s not a joke, you mean everything to me Nightmare! You always have. A sister should be willing to give everything up for their brother. Right? They should be willing to sacrifice their life for their family, for MY family.” Dream raised the apple to her mouth.
“STOP! You don’t know what your doing, this isn’t a game!” Nightmare shouted unable to move from his spot. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing from his sister and the tears wouldn’t stop.
“Its too late Nightmare, there’s no turning back now.... Besides, you said it yourself... No one will ever miss me...”
Dream took the first bite of the black apple.
Dream & Nightmare (c) Jokublog
Killer (c) rahafwabas
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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years ago
Text
A Place to Belong Chapter 17: Breath of Life
Chapter 16
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That night, the bairn was in the Laird’s room with Jenny and Ian. Fergus had refused to leave Claire’s side. Jenny almost hadn't either, but Ian insisted that she get a proper night's sleep after the trying day she’d had. Claire had been unresponsive to water or the broth. It was almost as if she were already dead, yet her heart was still beating.
Fergus had fallen asleep in the chair at Claire’s bedside, his head on the mattress, his hands each resting on her hand and upper arm. Jenny had left him, certain that he wouldn’t want to go to bed, but also knowing that he needed his sleep. He’d spent the day reading to her, singing French folk songs. Jenny didn’t understand, but he seemed to believe she could hear him. If it was a comfort to him, then who was she to tell him otherwise?
His sleep was not deep; his mind would not let his body fall asleep completely. The world was black, but he could vaguely hear sounds from the world around him; owls, the wind, a log falling over and thudding in the fireplace. It had all almost become white noise, a constant lull that kept him asleep and yet kept him alert.
Then there was a new sound.
Fergus slowly picked up his groggy head, unsure if he was hearing things.
That same tiny noise he’d just heard sounded again, and it was unmistakable. It was a pained moan from his mother’s lips.
“Maman?” He cried. “Wake up, Maman. Please wake up.”
She groaned again.
“Milady! Milord!” Fergus shouted. “Hurry!”
Fergus squeezed her hand, her shoulder. “Wake up, Maman. Please.”
The door burst open, and in came Jenny, her robe barely on. Fergus could hear Ian’s wooden leg not far behind.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“She’s waking up!” Fergus said.
Jenny sat down on the bed beside her. “Light a candle, Fergus.” She felt Claire’s face; still warm. She heard a groan. “Claire?”
“What is it?” Ian entered the room.
“She’s groaning, she may be waking up.”
Fergus held the candle in front of Claire’s face. “Claire? Can ye hear me, sister?” Jenny gently pushed her eyelids open. “Claire, look at me.”
She let out a pained, open mouthed moan. Jenny took the candle from Fergus. “Start feeding her the broth, lad.” He immediately obeyed, fetching the bowl and spoon from the table. “Yer boy is here, Claire. He’s going to feed ye some broth. I’m sorry it’ll be cold. Ye up and slept through supper.”
Claire’s eyes finally focused on Jenny’s face, and Jenny released her eyelids. “Can ye see me now?” A hissing sound was coming from her lips, but no decipherable words.
“Here, Maman,” Fergus said, holding the spoon to Claire’s mouth.
“Come now,” Jenny said, gently cupping Claire’s head and lifting it up so she could comfortably swallow. Like an obedient rag doll, Claire let herself be held up and fed. She got through several spoonfuls before Jenny could see the tears coming out of her eyes.
“Dinna fash, Claire,” Jenny soothed. “Ye’ll be just fine, now.”
“Do not cry, Maman.” Fergus knew exactly what was plaguing her. “The baby is alright.”
Something in Claire’s face changed. Her lips trembled with the effort of forming the words. “Alive…?” Her voice was small and croaky.
“Aye, Claire. She’s asleep down the hall.”
“She…?”
“Aye. She’s bonny.” Jenny smiled.
Claire’s head began tossing back and forth and Jenny lowered her back onto the pillows.
“Give me…my baby…”
“Ye need food, Claire. Yer still too weak…”
“Now.”
Jenny almost jumped out of her skin. Claire’s stare was wild, almost deranged.
“Fetch the bairn, Ian,” Jenny ordered. “She’ll no’ rest until she sees fer herself.”
“Maman, please eat more,” Fergus pleaded. Claire’s head slowly lolled from the left, where Jenny was, to the right, where Fergus was. “You must be strong to hold the baby.”
Whether it was her own willpower or for the lad’s sake, Claire nodded, and she allowed Jenny to hold her up again and Fergus to spoon broth into her mouth. They managed to get two more spoonfuls in before Ian returned with the bairn.
“Here she is, Claire.” Jenny beamed at her. “Help me, Fergus.” Together, they lifted Claire into a sitting position, adjusting the pillows as they went so she would not slump over. Lord knows she didn’t have the strength to hold herself up. Jenny took the bairn from Ian and presented her to Claire.
Claire let out a strangled whimper. In that moment, the rest of the world fell away; all she could see was the beautiful angel right in front of her. Ignoring the trembling of her arms, she reached out for her, and she was placed in her embrace. She bent her face down to hers until their foreheads were touching. She was warm. She could feel the breath from her tiny nose. She could hear the little snores in the back of her throat.
“She’s alive…”
“Aye.”
Claire was suddenly aware that she was not holding her on her own; Jenny’s hands were still supporting most of her weight. She hadn’t even realized she was still that weak. All that had mattered was assuring herself that the child lived. And God, did she.
She had the same copper hair as her sister, as her father. Both dead and buried.
And yet both alive again in her arms.
“Ten fingers…” Claire panted. “And ten toes.”
Oh Jamie…she’s so beautiful…She’s alive, and she’s yours. Ours.
Claire began openly weeping, running her fingers over every inch of her precious face, tangling her fingers in her curls, kissing her head, her cheeks, her nose, her ears. Every inch of her flesh and blood, his flesh and blood.
Despite the utter exhaustion, the horrible destructive pain her body was in, it was nothing compared to the indescribable ache in her heart, pining for the father of this child to be there with her, adoring her as much as she did. She had never felt so wholly complete and yet so utterly empty at the same time.
She didn’t even notice when her arms gave out; she’d lost feeling in them a while ago. Jenny held the child close again, and Claire suddenly became aware of the hand that had been rubbing her shoulder. She turned her head away from the baby to look at Fergus.
“My sweet boy…” She croaked. “Take my hand…bring it to your face…” He obeyed, and she found just enough energy to stroke his cheek with her thumb. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks. “Come here, darling.”
He got onto the bed and gently wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her chest. She mustered enough strength to kiss the crown of his head, and then her head fell back onto the pillows, eyes closed.
“Claire?” Jenny said fretfully.
She took a deep breath before willing her eyes to open again, this time to look at Jenny. “Brianna.”
“What’d ye say?”
“Brianna,” Claire repeated, staring adoringly at the bairn. “After Brian, your father. I promised.”
“That’s…that’s fine, Claire. A fine name.” Jenny smiled. Claire sighed with contentment and closed her eyes again.
“Claire!” Jenny cried.
“Her heart is still beating, Milady,” Fergus said softly, curling up closer into her. Jenny sighed in relief, briefly caressing the boy’s head. She let Ian lead her and the bairn out of the room and back to bed.
——
The next several days were harrowing. Claire drifted in and out of consciousness, never staying awake for more than a few minutes. They practically force fed her broth and water whenever she was awake enough to swallow. Jenny’s milk was being spread thin between Brianna and Katherine, so they'd had to resort to Jenny holding Brianna up to Claire’s breast while she lay unconscious. She was practically fit to burst anyway, so it only made sense to use it. But it still didn’t feel right.
“It feels like milking a cow,” Jenny had said one day to Ian. “Taking what we need from her like an animal…” She sniffled, then exhaled shakily. “It’s just no’ how a mother is meant to feed her bairn.”
Ian had pulled her into a comforting embrace, not knowing what to say.
Jenny had been able to convince Fergus that they could take turns sitting with her; he needn’t always be the one to lose the night’s sleep. They rotated throughout the day, alerting the rest when she stirred, and took turns with the night shift. Claire had hardly said two words since that first time she’d woken up. They could always tell she wanted to, that she was trying, but it was as if there wasn’t enough air in her lungs. Sometimes if she tried too hard she’d even faint dead away again before they could get any water in her.
On the eighth day, Jenny was sitting with her, catching up on the mending. Occasionally she would chatter to her. She’d picked up Fergus’s habit of talking as if Claire could hear her. Perhaps she could. Jenny suddenly felt a chill, and over her shoulder she could see the fire was dying, and the December air was biting. She pulled another blanket from the wardrobe to put atop the others on Claire, then set to getting the fire started again. She patiently stoked the flames, and chuckled to herself.
“How do ye think Fergus is getting along wi’ the bairn just now?” She said to Claire, keeping her attention on the fire, knowing she couldn’t answer. “Yesterday he interrupted my shift wi’ ye to change her nappy. Instead, I showed him how to do it himself. He wasna too keen to do it, but I told him that’s what brothers do, and if he wanted to be her brother he canna keep the good to himself and let us old folk do the dirty work. How much would ye bet he’s talking Ian into doing it as we speak?”
“I’d wager quite a sum at that.”
Jenny jumped clean out of her skin, dropping the metal poker and slamming her head on the fireplace. “Och! A Diah…” She could not focus on her pain, however. She whirled around. “Claire? Was that you?”
“I don’t see anyone else.”
“Oh, thank Christ!” Jenny rushed to the bed. She was still pale, her eyes were only half open but she was awake, and talking. She took her face in her hands and laughed joyously. “Claire…Oh, thank ye Lord…thank ye…” Jenny firmly kissed her forehead and began affectionately rubbing her hair. “Oh, mo ghràidh…”
“It’s good to see you too, Jenny.” 
“I thought we’d lost ye so many times…I thought surely if a week went by…and ye still wouldn’t wake…I thought ye’d surely die…”
“So did I.”
“Aye, but here ye are!” Jenny kissed her head again. “Oh, the bairn! How’d ye like to properly meet yer daughter?”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Fergus!” Jenny scrambled into the hallway. “She’s awake! Really awake! Bring the bairn wi’ ye!” Leaving the door open, Jenny returned to her side and began helping her sit up. “Fergus has been beside himself. He’ll be so happy to see ye…”
“Maman!” Jenny reached for the bairn, knowing what Fergus wanted to do right at that moment.
“Be gentle wi’ her lad. Don’t be throwing yerself on her.”
Fergus nodded and hesitantly sat on the bed opposite Jenny.
“Hello, Fergus.” Claire outstretched her arms and the poor boy melted into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I’m sorry I scared you,” Claire whispered into his curls.
“It is alright,” Fergus said, releasing his grip so he could look into her eyes. “But will you not do it again?”
Claire couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll try my best.”
At that moment Brianna made a very distinct grunting sound. “Someone is impatient,” Jenny said. Fergus scooted over to allow Claire enough room to take the child in her arms.
“Hello, my angel,” Claire whispered reverently, finally feeling whole again after days of feeling the dull ache of her absence. She’d reached out for her in the black depths of her unconsciousness, called her name, heard the screams reverberating back in her head, but no one could hear her. Claire felt her eyes well up with tears yet again. She briefly wondered when she’d stop crying at the sight of her daughter.
This was the first time she’d seen her eyes. They were his, too.
“Fraser eyes,” Jenny said proudly, noticing how Claire became lost in them.
“They’re beautiful,” Claire said, not looking away from her.
“She’s been so well behaved for her Auntie,” Jenny said. “She’s a braw sleeper.”
“Are you now?” Claire beamed, bouncing her in her arms. “What a good girl.”
“She likes when I tickle her nose,” Fergus said. “Like this.”
He used his pointer finger to rapidly tap her little button nose, causing Brianna to squeeze her eyes shut, toss her head back and forth, and make adorable little squeaking noises. Claire’s laugh bubbled up from her chest, and it was the most genuine happiness she’d felt in so long.
“See?” Fergus said.
“You like your brother’s tickles?” Claire said, imitating what Fergus had done. “What about Mummy’s?” Claire’s heart soared at her baby, alive, alive enough to react to tickling. It would be months before she would really laugh, of course, but to see her react, in any way, to her mother’s touch, was beyond description.
“My sweet girl.” Claire gently rubbed her cheeks, watching as those diamond eyes popped open again, wide as saucers. “God, you are so beautiful…”
Claire became lost in those eyes, the same eyes that she’d woken up to beside her in bed time and time again, the same eyes that she could pick out in a crowd of thousands, the same eyes that stared at her with hunger, passion, love, adoration, the same eyes that captured her heart and possessed her very soul.
“She’s going to look just like him, isn't she?”
She felt Jenny’s hand on her back. “Aye, she will.” Jenny sniffled. “It’ll pain ye to look at her some days. It pains me already.” Claire finally looked up from Brianna to meet Jenny’s eyes. “But the love will always outweigh the pain, ye ken?” She reached over to brush her wee cheek.
Claire sighed shakily. “I already cry every time I look at her.”
“That’ll fade, wi’ time. It won’t always be every time.”
Claire looked back down at her again, unable to imagine looking at her and not being overcome with emotion.
“He would’ve been a fine father, Claire,” Jenny said, wrapping her arm around her frame and firmly squeezing her shoulder. “He wouldnae left yer side these past days, he wouldnae let the bairn out of his sight. He’d have loved her fiercely.”
Claire sniffled and swallowed thickly. “I know.” Her voice was thin and frail.
Jenny sighed, and rested her head on Claire’s shoulder.
“Oh Jenny…” Claire’s voice broke, and she rested her head atop Jenny’s.
“I know, mo ghràidh…I know.” Jenny rubbed her shoulders, feeling Claire’s tears dissolving into her hair.
The two wept on each other for a while, Fergus going back and forth between smoothing Claire’s hair and cupping Brianna’s head.
After a while, the door creaked open, and whoever it was paused in the doorway. Jenny turned her head from atop Claire’s shoulder.
“I heard ye were awake,” Ian said. “Wanted to see it fer myself.”
Jenny released her grip on Claire, and the two straightened up. “Hello, Ian,” Claire said.
“It’s good to see ye again, Claire.” He smiled widely. “How is my niece? She behaving as well fer you as she did fer us?”
“Yes, she is.” Claire smiled down at her.
“She’ll likely need feeding soon,” Jenny said. “Hasnae fed since this morning.”
“What has she been feeding on?” Claire asked. “Have you been bringing her to me?”
“Aye, for these last few days. I was feeding her in the beginning,” Jenny said. “Didnae think ye were strong enough fer it at first.”
“What about Katherine? Was there enough for her? You don’t have nearly as much milk as I do.”
“Dinna fash, Claire,” Jenny assured. “Kitty is just fine. I was spreading myself thin, to be sure, but everything is just fine now.”
As if on cue, Brianna began squirming and mewling.
“Alright lads.” Jenny stood up from the bed and began ushering Fergus out. “Some privacy if ye please.”
“I will come back, Maman?” Fergus called from the doorway.
“Please do.” Claire smiled.
With that, the boy disappeared down the hall. Ian approached the bed and pressed a loving kiss to the top of Claire’s head.
“God bless ye, Claire,” Ian said before giving Jenny’s hand a squeeze and departing. Jenny shut the door behind him.
Claire untied the top of her shift and brought Brianna to her breast. She briefly marveled at how incredible it was to be nursing her flesh and blood, to be literally giving her life with her own body.
“Thank you,” Claire said after a moment. “For feeding her.”
Jenny waved it off. “Ye’d have done the same fer me.”
“You saved her life, Jenny. Repeatedly,” Claire continued. “And mine.”
Jenny shrugged, winking at her. “I learned from the best.”
“How did you know…I mean, what did you do?” Claire shook her head, as if trying to shake the fuzzy images clear in her memory. “After the bleeding started I…I don’t remember much. Just the horrible pain, and the terror…but the specifics are gone.”
“Once she started coming, ye fainted dead away,” Jenny said. “I honest to God thought ye’d died on me. My only thought was the bairn. If ye were dead, ye were dead, and if the bairn didn’t come out, ye’d be dead anyway.” Jenny shuddered at the memory. “Then I remembered ye pulling Maggie out of me wi’ yer own two hands.”
“You…you pulled her out of me?” Claire said in disbelief.
“Wi’out yer pushing what else could I do? Her head was already out most o’ the way so I just…pulled her out. Gentle as I could.”
At that moment, Brianna fell away from Claire’s breast and began fussing. “Is your wee tummy all full then?” Claire said, smiling down at her.
“She needs burping. I’ll do it,” Jenny said, standing from the chair she’d been sitting in and approaching the bed.
“I can do it.”
“Ye think I canna see yer arms shaking?” Jenny said firmly. “Yer turning white as a sheet. She may no’ weigh much but in yer condition any weight is too much after so long.” Claire hesitated, her heart sinking. “I know ye dinna wannae part wi’ her, but there’ll be plenty of time to hold her when yer able.” Without waiting for permission, Jenny took the squirming bairn from her arms and put her on her shoulder. 
As much as it made her chest ache to see Jenny pacing the room, bouncing her, patting her back, whispering Gaelic to her, she had to admit she was grateful to finally have her arms free. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she’d become. She laid back on the pillows, allowing her eyes to close. She smiled to herself when she heard the little burps, and Brianna finally quieted.
“There ye are,” Jenny said. “I’ll put her down fer a nap here.” Jenny placed her in the basket by the fireplace. “We can move her cot in here if ye’d like. She’s been spending nights wi’ me and Ian, just in case.”
Claire reluctantly opened her eyes. “I’d like that.”
“ ’Course someone would be needing to spend nights wi’ ye both, seeing as ye’ll not be getting out of bed any time soon.”
Claire sighed in frustration at that. “Lovely.”
“Fergus would happily sleep on the floor in here wi’ ye both.” Jenny smiled, shaking her head at the boy’s stubbornness. “He adores ye, ken.”
“I know he does.”
“Speaking of, ye ought to be getting some rest. After ye drink some water, o’ course.” Jenny filled the glass on the nightstand and raised it to Claire’s lips. “Drink all of it, slowly.”
Claire gratefully sipped, again not realizing how much she’d needed it. When the glass was finished, she gratefully thanked Jenny. Jenny began fluffing the pillows behind her, adjusting the blankets.
“Jenny,” Claire said, but she didn’t stop. “Jenny look at me.” Jenny finished straightening the blanket, then she looked up at Claire. “Come here.”
She obeyed, sitting on the bed beside her. “Tell me more. What happened once you got her out?”
Jenny sighed and smoothed her skirt. “She was blue, no’ breathing. Ian rubbed her back and smacked her bottom until she finally started crying.” Claire threw an instinctual glance over to the basket, her heart seized by a moment of panic at the thought of that sweet, pink baby cold, blue, and breathless.
“Did the afterbirth come naturally?” Claire asked, knowing it had to be out of her or she’d already be dead.
“Ah, no. I pulled that out, too.”
Claire was gobsmacked. “You…how…how did you know to do that?”
“I remembered what ye said about…about the last time.” Claire’s heart stung at the memory. “I listened fer yer heartbeat, so I kent ye werena dead. But the bleeding wouldn’t stop, and ye were so pale, and feverish…I was scared out of my wits, ken.” Jenny took a breath. “I wasn’t even sure what I was doing. But I ken ye said that ye’d have died in France if yer friend hadn’t showed up and pulled it out. So I had to try.”
“Jenny…”
“Those days when ye were just laying there, unconscious or delirious, I thought I must’ve done something wrong.” She quickly sniffled and patted Claire’s leg. “But here ye are.”
Claire smiled, tears clouding her vision. She covered Jenny’s hand with her own. “You saved my life, Jenny.”
“I didna have a choice.” She shrugged. “My brother’d have struck me down where I stood if I let ye die.” They both chuckled. “No’ to mention I’d never forgive myself.”
“You did wonderfully, Jenny,” Claire insisted. “Jamie would be so proud.” Jenny nodded tearfully. “I am so proud. And grateful. I can’t wait to tell Brianna how her Auntie Jenny saved her life.”
“Oh, dinna fill her head wi’ that nonsense.” Jenny shook her head. “Can’t have her thinking I’m some sort o’ saint. She’s got to fear me, ken.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I know you won’t be disciplining her one bit,” Jenny teased. “Ye practically give my own bairns sweets after I’m through wi’ ‘em.”
Claire chuckled. “You’ll have to teach me.”
“Aye, that I will. But now,” Jenny stood up. “Ye need yer rest. I’ll let ye alone in here, but I’ll be in to check on ye while ye sleep.”
“Alright,” Claire said, already feeling herself drift away.
“Dinna even think about trying to get out of that bed,” Jenny said firmly. “If ye want the bairn someone will bring her to ye. Understood?”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Claire teased, her eyes closing.
“Right then. Sleep well.”
Claire attempted to thank her, but the only sound that came out was a breathy grunt, and then the world fell away into oblivion.
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monstaxdirtywonk · 5 years ago
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Love of the Moonlight
You still remember that night. You were wondering around, scared of your own shadow, trying to reach home as soon as possible. You thought you heard something, but you were too focused on walking, secretly afraid of turning your head to face whatever or whoever that might be. Your heart was beating fast, tinting your cheeks red, heat rising all over you, despite the cold night. You had to run as fast as possible, maybe, you thought, you were overreacting for no reason. You couldn’t hear footsteps approaching, but you were sure, all of a sudden, there were footsteps right behind you. You checked for a shadow next to you, there was none. Your blood ran cold as you slowly turned your head, and took the glimpse of a man. The moment he realized, he grabbed you by the neck in an almost paranormal speed and pinned you against the nearby wall. Your eyes grew wide, that was it, you thought. The man, placed his hand around your neck and applied pressure, one that danced against your pulse. He seemed to enjoy this as his delicate finger tracked the vein. His grin grew wider and he formed teeth longer than those of the average human. You thought you were seeing things. How is that possible, you wondered. Who is this man and what does he want? He hadn’t kill you yet, so why did he attack you all of a sudden. He hissed and went straight to your neck. You closed your eyes, frightened, wishing this was just a nightmare. When you opened them, your neck still in tact, you couldn’t believe he was gone. In fact, he was beaten up and laid on the street, approximately 2 meters away from you. Another man was in front of you this time. You flinched and he noticed. “Easy” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you” You didn’t know if you could trust him, saving you wasn’t enough. Despite looking mysterious however, he seemed friendly and gentle. He had black longish hair and a very intense gaze. His eyes were apparent even in this ebony colored night. “Thank you” you said carefully, trying to appear collected. You were far from that. “Ah my name’s Seonghwa” he raised his hand, proposing a handshake. You gave your hand too, making contact with his cold hand. It was the weather, you guessed. “Y/N” you replied. “I gotta go now. Thank you for that tho. You’ll call the police right?” “Yes I’ll do it myself” he said, proposing to get you home too. This was a very creepy idea, you didn’t want a random stranger to know where you live. “No thank you. I’ll be fine.” you exhaled deeply. He warned you to be more careful and you left after thanking him again.
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“How many times do I have to tell you fucker to not feed out of random people?” Seonghwa nagged while grabbing the other man’s shirt. “We were almost caught. Do you want humans to know we exist? They’re gonna impale us like in the Middle Ages. That’s why, you and your thirsty ass has to keep a distance from people.Understood?” The man nodded. He was inferior to Seonghwa and didn’t want to mess up even more. “Home.Now.” Seonghwa ordered and the man complied as if he was a trained dog. Seonghwa looked towards your side, you were far gone, but he was able to hear your heartbeat. One of the many superpowers his kind has. He didn’t want attacks from his clan. But maybe in your case, it was more than that. How can it be though? He saw you for a couple of seconds. Probably never to be seen again. He was wrong. Unable to keep the distance he so hightlighted before, he stayed hidden within the shadows, keeping an eye on you every time you were coming home late at night. Seonghwa knew that was much more than a friendly concern, but couldn’t control it. How can a creature of the night approach her? He’d seem terrifying in her eyes. Her savior, turned to a thread. Seonghwa let go. It was the only thing he had to do. There was no point in this. You belonged to different worlds and colors. The moment you were living, he was hiding and vice versa. But fate had other plans.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seonghwa was sitting in his office. The clan had a separate motel of terror, in which the members were living. It was comfortable but old, like them. There were some servants, abducted by the vampires and feeders. Those were the people that were doing the dirty work. Very few and faithful, they guaranteed their silence. He had a separate home as well, but spent much of his time there. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt lonely often. There was no point in being at home, it was a cold and inhospitable place. As he was deep in thought, he heard shouting outside and Jared, a member of the Clan, came in running and panting. “What is it?” Seonghwa asked. “They bought humans. As if feeders weren’t enough…” Seonghwa was a gentle and mature vampire. He had been ‘alive’ since the 19th century after all. However, he had some rare moments of anger, rare but filled with terror. His eyes turned red and he stepped outside, ready to fight and yell, even attack the fellow vampires. “How many times-” his voice was caught short when he saw you. He couldn’t believe in his eyes. He forgot everything and just stared, time stopped around him. “I’m sorry master but the feeders aren’t enough for us, our needs grow” the vampire said. “This..isn’t .. a reply.” he brushed his hair nervously and collected himself. “If any of you do this again, I’ll kick you out of the clan. Understood?” he yelled, making everyone flinch. Seonghwa wasn’t bad. Not at all. Actually, he got so mad out of his care for the others. Vampires were a myth of popular culture, they had to stay like that. Things were dangerous out there. Your breathing was irregular, panic taking over you. You were tied up, next to another man. He was tied up also, abducted, not a vampire it seemed. The vampire that just yelled, seemed all too familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. This was complete nonsense. As a sceptic, you’d swear vampires are fictional characters created by gothic writers. But no, they exist and they are right in front of your eyes. Seonghwa moved his hand, nodding for Jared to come closer. He whispered instructions in his ear, ones that had you in tense already. Jared came back, he untied the man’s rope and looked at him deep in the eyes. “If you tell anyone, we’ll come for your ass.” he threatened. The man nodded scared, but relieved he was free to leave. You spoke up, hesitantly. “What…abou-t me?” Seonghwa didn’t want to frighten you. You were scared enough. But he couldn’t let you go either. It was fate in his eyes. It meant something. He commanded everyone to leave and so they did. You were even more scared now.
“I’m sorry for that.” he said, coming closer. You flinched again. “Don’t be scared. I’m only untieing you” You extended your hands for him. When he moved closer, you remembered… “You’re the man…from the attack, right?” He didn’t expect you to remember him. “Yes” he replied, somehow excited you did so.
“That’s why you saved me then” you put things together, it made sense now. “Yes. I’ll do everything to keep us a secret.” “A secret I won’t reveal.“ you said "Just let me go.” He wanted to. He hated seeing you distressed but he couldn’t let you slip off his hand just like that. You stood up and went towards the wooden table. Your bag was placed there and that movement made his non existent heart to sink. “Please don’t leave” he muttered. Your bag opened too wide and a book fell off on the floor. “You read?” he asked, finding the opportunity for small talk. “Occasionally”. you responded. “ Will you read for me?” he asked softly while searching for the cover. It was an anthology of poems. “I’ll choose a random page.” Seonghwa said “47.” You opened the book and went through the pages in an aggressive pattern. Maybe even anxious, he thought. Seonghwa gave you some space, but you still felt threatened by him. He didn’t realize he seemed like such a monster in your eyes. Little did he know, it was the other way around. Seonghwa was too alluring for your senses. You tried so hard to keep your distance, but there was no clear line at this point. As you went through the pages, your finger got caught in a sheet’s corner and a whine left your lips. The white of the page, got tinted in red. You were truly scared by now. Seonghwa, like a shark, couldn’t help himself this time. He grabbed your hand and moved it closer to his mouth. Your heart was beating so fast, his extraordinary sense of hearing noticed this. He placed his tongue against your fingertip, cleaning you up with a simple swipe. “I’ve told you. You shouldn’t be scared” “How? I mean, they say that vampires get greedy with blood. I didnt know if you were real till yesterday, all I know is based on movies and I don’t even know if they are accurate.” “It’s kind of accurate actually. But it depends on age. I’ve been around for almost 3 centuries now, so I’ve learned how to pull back.” You admired his self control. He was scared he wouldn’t be able to maintain it around you. Seonghwa was wrong. Little by little you grew closer. You enjoyed his company and vast experience in life. He enjoyed your presence and cheerfulness. He felt alive again, you painted his world in pink. One night, while walking along towards your home, he found the courage to asked you out. “Will you be mine?” His question, awfully cheesy, but sweet and sincere, made you say yes. His signature bright smile, lit up his face. He wished goodnight and left, never crossing boundaries physically, but mentally, those had been destroyed by now. A gentleman of the old times. A wise soul, that made you see things in a frightened way. Even a monster after all, can better than most humans, you thought.
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thepeacetea · 5 years ago
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Broken Angels Ch. 5
Hi everyone! Sorry this one came out a little later, but here it is. Though I do have to say, I don’t know where you guys got the idea that Marinette is Jason’s sister. I don’t think I ever remember saying that. Oh well. Anyway, thank you all again for the likes, comments, and reblogs. I tried to tag everyone, but if I missed you, just send me a message and I’ll get you next chapter. You all really seemed to enjoy the last chapter, so I hope ya’ll enjoy this one! Again, if you have any comments, questions, or suggestions, let me know. Hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!
“I swear, if you don’t get out of my way right now, I will kill you! NOW. LET. ME. GO!”
It wasn’t the threat that caused the family to pause. No, they received death threats everyday. Nothing new there. It was the pure rage, desperation, and panic that radiated off Jason that caused them to hesitate. They had never seen him like this. Sure, they had seen him angry, they had even seen him worried. But they had never seen him panicked. Ever. No one, that is, except for Alfred. As he watched the young man yell and threaten his family, his brothers, Alfred was reminded of the one time Jason had displayed that same amount of panic.
It had been three weeks since the boy had been in the hospital. Three weeks since Master Bruce had found him in that ally beaten half to death. Three weeks since he had been in the coma. Alfred had been coming in faithfully for those 24 days like clockwork. He would arrive precisely at nine and leave when visiting hours where over. Bruce would occasionally come for an hour or two and Dick had dropped in once or twice, but most days it was just Alfred. Most days he would just sit in the room and read. Nothing changed for three, long weeks.
It was around 4:00 p.m. on day 24 that the boy woke. The subtle shifting was Alfred’s first indication that he was waking up. The soft groan that followed almost made the old man smile. If the boy was feeling pain, then that was a good sign. It meant he was healing. The boy forced his eyes open and for the first time, Alfred looked into the blue eyes of the newest member of the Wayne family.
The boy blinked a slowly a few time, carefully shifting in the bed to scan his surrounding, muttering something that sounded like ‘Nettie’. Confusion flashed across his face as he surveyed the hospital room before landing on Alfred. For a moment, Alfred let the boy just look at him, giving him a chance to collect himself before speaking. But he never got a chance to.
In a split second, the boy’s eyes went from clouded with confusion to recollection. Alfred watched as the boy’s eyes grew impossibly wide as panic leaped in.
“NETTIE! WHERE’S NETTIE?” the volume of the question was more on tune with a scream then a shout as the boy shot up from his position, fully intending on leaving the bed.
“Sir, you need to calm down. You’re in no condition to be walking.” Alfred stated, rushing forward to prevent the boy from getting up.
“NO! NO! I HAVE TO FIND NETTIE! SHE’S OUT THERE AND SHE WOULDN’T RUN! SHE WOULDN’T RUN AND THEY WERE GONNA HURT HER!”
The shouting caught the attention of the staff. Nurses and one of the doctor’s came running in a panic. They were greeted with the sight of the comma boy wide awake desperately trying to get out of bed, while his temporary guardian was trying to hold him down.
“Kid, listen. You need to calm down. You just woke up from a comma. You’re still healing.” One of the nurses said, rushing to help hold the boy down.
“NO, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I HAVE TO FIND NETTIE! SHE’S OUT THERE ALONE AND I NEED TO FIND HER! I HAVE TO FIND PIXIE! I NEED TO FIND MY SISTER! NOW! LET! ME! GO!” He ordered, the panic giving him enough strength to throw the nurse and Alfred off him and into the wall.  
The doctor used that momentary distraction to his full advantage. Moving faster then the boy, the doctor injected a sedative into his body. The thrashing he was doing speed up the reaction as his body started to relax.
“No, please. I have to find her. She needs me. She needs me!” The boy said, his voice cracking as tears made their way down his face. “. . . . I need her.” he whispered the last part before his body relaxed. Forcing him into a state of forgetfulness.
As the medical staff buzzed around the boy, Alfred just looked at him. The boy may be asleep, but he wasn’t forgetting. The whimpers proved that. He wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon.
“Jason, we are not going to let you go out to do god knows what until you tell us what is going on.” Master Bruce’s voice snapped Alfred out of his memory. “And I think a good place to start is how you know that girl.”
“Yeah, its not like you’ve cared about accident victims before.”
“Or anyone for that matter.”
The last statement was from Damian, who had said it in an attempt to snap whatever state of panic his brother was in. Though he may not admit it, he was concerned for his older brother. Panicked was not something Jason ever was, and it honestly scared the youngest. He knew that it would snap him out of panic, but no one was ready for what it snapped Jason into.
Jason’s eyes flashed from panicked blue to almost murderous. If looks could kill, then the family would have been turned to ash. Everyone, including Bruce, fought the urge to step back. Jason never was one to keep his tempter in check, and the family had seen many explosive episode, but none prepared them for what they were seeing. To see Jason go from laughing, to panicked, to looking ready to murder them, in under the course of a few minutes, was terrifying.
“How do I know her? Why do I care?” he hissed, his mouth pulling back into a snarl, eyes flashing dangerously. “She’s my f*cking sister! That’s how I know her!” He yelled, his words echoing off the walls of the manor.
“I thought . . .  I thought she was dead for seven years. Seven! Then I see her on the news after almost getting killed by that frecking driver looking like someone’s been beating her! So get the hell out of my way!” he shouted, his voice hitching slightly at the mention of her injuries.
“Jason, think rationally for a moment. It’s late. Even if she still was at the station, they wouldn’t let you in. They would be monitoring everyone who’d go see her. Only her legal guardians could, even then, they would be under scrutiny because of the state she’s in. If you go down there like this, with no form of prof of your claim, they could very well arrest you under suspicion of abuse.” Bruce said, physically putting himself between Jason and the door. He spoke low, logical. It wasn’t quite his Batman voice. No. But it worked better.
For a few, very long seconds, the two men stared at each other, neither breaking contact. Both tense, ready to fight. Jason’s fists shook with pent up energy, his entire body taunt. The silence stretched from seconds to a minute, with no one daring to move.
“ . . . you have a sister?” Dick finally asked, breaking the tense silence with the question everyone had.
“Nettie. My little Nettie.” The confirmation came almost without thinking, Jason’s eyes never leaving Bruce. “She was always so tiny. No matter how much I tried to feed her, she never grew. We were both convinced she had some pixie blood that prevented her from growing. But what she lacked in size, she made up for in heart. Tch, her heart was always too big, ‘specially when I first met her.”
“You look cold.”
The tiny voice startled Jason. He almost thought he had imagined it as it seemed to blend in with the wind. Looking up, he found an incredibly tiny two-year-old girl staring at him, wide blue eyes blinking slowly. The kid’s face was red from the cold as the bitter February wind tore through the streets of Gotham.
“What?” He hadn’t meant to ask that. It just slipped out.
“I said you look cold.” The tiny fairy said, waiting for an answer.
“That’s because I am cold.” Jason growled. He didn’t have the time or the patience to talk with this kid. He was trying to stay warm. He had gotten kicked out of his last place and he hadn’t been able to find a new one to hole up in. He didn’t want to spend time talking with an over curious kid.
A tug on his sleeve brought his eyes back to the girl. She was tugging on his coat sleeves, trying to pull him up. While she obviously couldn’t, Jason was a little impressed at the strength she did seem to have.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his brows scrunching together at the girl’s actions.
“Well, you said that cold so I’m taking you to my house. It’s not very warm, but warmer then out here.” She grunted, still trying to pull Jason to his feet.
“Thanks kid, but I don’t think your parents would be too happy with that.” He explained, gently pulling his hand out of hers. She seemed sweet. And caring.
“Oh, I don’t have parent’s, so they wont mind. An’ I have blankets an’ some food an’ you can stay with me.” She said, a cheer in her tone that caught Jason by surprise. This girl, this two-year-old was on her own and offering him, a total stranger, to stay with her.
“Kid, didn’t anyone tell you not to talk to strangers? And how old are you?”
“I’m five. An’ yeah, I’ve been told not to talk to strangers. But you’re nice. You won’t hurt me.”
“Really, and makes you think that?” Jason asked, momentarily ignoring the question of why a five-year-old looked so small, and focusing on why she thought he was safe. Her answer surprised him.
“Your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“Yup. You have good eyes. You . . . care even if you don’t show it. You’ve been hurt before, but you still care what happens to other people. And you don’t always follow the rules, but you do what you think is best. You do what you have to do. You’re good.”
That answer shocked Jason. This little girl. This tiny, pixie like five-year-old, was telling him that he was good, that he was worth something. She was too trusting. Too soft. Something tugged at his heart at the thought of someone taking advantage of her.
“Alright you pixie, I’ll come with you. But just for tonight.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even register what he was saying. The smile she sent him seemed to make the air a little warmer, but it fell after a moment.
“I’m not a pixie, though. Pixie’s are pretty, and nice, and magical, and I’m not.”
Seeing how she seemed to shrink into herself, Jason felt that tug again. Smiling, he knelt beside her, gently guiding her chin up to meet his eyes.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. You’re tiny, just like one, you have the most uniquely beautiful blue eyes. And you seem pretty magical to me. You where able to tell I was a good guy just by looking at my eyes. And you’re offering me a place to stay, and that’s really nice. So yeah, I think you’re my pixie.”
For the longest time, the girl just stood there looking at Jason, as if trying to see if he was telling the truth. Finally, that same, heart warming smile made its way back on her face.
“I . . . I guess you’re right. But if I’m your pixie, can you be my big brother?”
‘Big brother?’ Those word caused something to tighten in his chest. He didn’t know how to be one. He had no idea how to care for someone younger. He wasn’t exactly the safest person to be around. He was in trouble more often then not. But . . . she didn’t have anyone to look after her. And she was too trusting. She needed someone to look after her. He couldn’t just leave her after everything he just said. The coil in his chest just tightened, agreeing with everything his mind thought of. Glancing at her, he found her looking at him with so much hope shining in those eyes, that he knew there could only be one answer.
“As long as I get your name, pixie-pop.”
“Marinette, but everyone calls me Nettie. What’s your name?”
“. . .Jason.”
The smile that she gave him sealed the deal. He was going to be her big brother. He was going to protect His pixie.
“Well then Nettie, lead the way.”
 @mystery-5-5 @captainmac6 @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @mochinek0@sonif50 @zalladane @thebananathatwrites @schrodingers25 @kuroko26 @miraculousbelladonna @souleaterlicestein @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @ijustwannabecanadian @ellerahs @ranger-paladinikoe @xxmadamjinxx @derpingrainbow @sassy-spocko @vixen-uchiha @mjisntme @iggy-of-fans @violentbisexualprophecywriter @valeks-princess @crazylittlemunchkin @redscarlet95 @alexzandria-747 @ayuchan07 @whomthefyck @rhub4rb @constancetruggle @rikku052 @kurogaya913 @shizukiryuu @spicybelladonna @zazzlejazzle @luciferge @mewwitch @emotionalsupportginger @grunklestantheman  @my-name-is-michell @northernbluetongue @chez-pezeater @shamefullove @goggles-mcgee @gingerdaile @zebrabaker @tinybrie @bluefiredemon @tbehartoo @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @shyestofhearts @darkthunder1589 @fridayfirefly @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @yazi-ing @lunar-wolf-warrior @ladylb @vivilakitty @ghostcryptid @casual-darkness @yamadochie @thatrandomfandomgirl @mindfulmagics @myriad-of-passionate-pettiness @violatiger8 @seraphichan @synnesstra @friedchickening @kiara-rose-blackthorn
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bittybattybunny · 4 years ago
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Isssss a brain static day cuz everything hurts
soooooo
have a oneshot I wrote last night
(warning there is no spell check and this was a ‘in one go’ piece i wrote in 2 hours so there are MISTAKES but idk if I’ll ever flesh this out so instead of it rotting in google you can read it)
((also Hekabe belongs to Gin I just borrowed her))
“Where Wolf?”
11 pages, 4146 words
Enjoy! Maybe.
“Hey girl, how you doing today?” he asked as he looked at the white wolf in the cage. She huffed some as he reached to pet her. Her tail began to thump happily as he scratched her ears. He reached back, “Can I look at your foot?”
She whined some as he sighed.
“Come on let me see it,” he asked again.
“You talking to that wolf again, Ru?”
He turned to look at the older vet with a big grin.
“Maybe. I mean she responds to it. To think, there was an albino in our park.” he smiled softly as the wolf huffed. She shifted to stand and whined, nearly collapsing as she put pressure on her bad leg.
He frowned and shifted to look at it, “It looks less swollen, but clearly not great still.” he helped the wolf lay back down and she flopped her head on his lap. He laughed as he moved to sit properly on the ground and began to pet her, “ever meet a wolf this friendly?”
“I think you’re the only one she let’s do that. She snarled and barked at Johnson.” the vet rolled her eyes and shook her head, “I couldn’t set that leg until we got her sedated last night.”
“She’s not that bad. Look at this face!” he grinned and played with her cheek fluff. She stuck her tongue out and licked him. He laughed happily and nuzzled her, “I love wolves, they are such GOOD animals~!” he sang happily.
“I know that Ru. now come on, use your wolf whispering and help me move her to the exam table so we can recheck that leg. I don’t want to use enough tranquilizers to take down a moose. Again.” Hekabe laughed.
He rolled his eyes, “come on girl, let me up.” he blinked when the wolf put her front paws over his lap. She huffed annoyed. She rolled slightly onto him and whined. He stared at the behavior before laughing loudly and ruffling her chest fur as she lounged.
“She is VERY comfortable with you.” Hekabe knelt down and got a growl from the wolf when her hand went near her. She gave a soft smile, “I’m just as nice as he is.”
“Unless someone messes up!” he laughed when the vet whacked his head. He leaned down towards the wolf, “Okay, honestly missy. You need to let me move you. I have other patients to check on and the sooner I get your leg fixed, we can release you.”
She huffed and rolled off of him and let him shift to pick her up. He grunted some as he carried her to the table.
“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep that up.” Hekabe laughed as the wolf laid on the cold steel table and relaxed. She stuck her tongue out as Arulius began to pet between her ears. She growled and snapped her head when Hekabe moved her bandaged back leg. She huffed when the younger vet put his arms around her neck. She relaxed and as long as he held her the older vet finished adjusting her leg.
“That’s surprising.” she admitted, “I swore her leg was more shattered last night after she chewed her cast off in a fit.”
“Maybe it’s because you knocked her with a moose tranq. God the day I don’t work and I miss the fun.” he kissed between the wolf’s eyes, “who’s a good girl.”
“You know everyone’s going to think you’re some sort of wolf whisperer.” Hekabe laughed and readjusted the leg, “hopefully though she’ll be back out in a week.”
The wolf let out a sorrowful howl annoyed. Arulius laughed.
-------
A few of the rangers could only stare at the young vet tech as he worked on reading some paperwork. At his side the white wolf was standing with her back leg slightly up due to her splint. He’d occasionally reach down to pet her head making her tail wag before he walked down the hall, slowly, with her limping alongside.
“Wow.” The tall black haired ranger snickered, “Hey bonny look.” he pointed, “Looks like he’s got a friend.”
“I see that.” she whacked his arm, “don’t point.”
“White wolf huh. I’ve never seen her on rounds. Who found her?” He asked and shoved his hands in his over sized jacket.
“Oh I guess someone found her in a mudslide, leg was messed up, when she came too she nearly snapped someone’s head.” the shorter ranger scowled, “man i want that pelt. HEY DORK! IF THAT WOLF EVER DIES LET ME SKIN HER AIGHT?” she hollered.
The vet turned with a glare and shook his head before flipping her off.
“How rude.” he scowled as the wolf growled. He sighed tiredly and looked at his watch. She whined as he looked down, “Oh I’m okay.” he tried to assure her and rubbed his neck, “sorry Moony, I’m just…” he turned red, “I’m just worried about something.”
The wolf tilted her head confused.
“There’s this girl I like,” he spoke as he opened the door to the yard area and let the wolf walk outside. She sat down and waited for him.
“But I haven’t seen her past few days.” he turned a brighter red, “I-I’m not creepy! I swear it moony! But I almost always see her when I get home from work but I haven’t seen her since last week and it’s unsettling! I’m wo---” he stopped when she held a front paw up. He placed his hand under it and laughed, “are you trying to cheer me up?”
She gave a bark and limped in the yard and wagged her tail. He smiled softly.
“I suppose I am over worrying… it’s only been…” he looked at his hand counting off, “actually I think when we brought you in was the last day I saw her.”
The wolf’s tail stopped wagging and her ears went very alert.
He frowned, “what’s wrong, you okay?” he reached to pet her and she gave a small whine.
He gave her a smile and pet her cheeks. She leaned into his hands as he sighed and a small wind blew past them.
---------
“What? Moony isn’t eating?” he frowned, “who was in charge over the weekend?” Arulius set his bag down on the table before he went to get his lab coat. He smoothed his scrubs and headed towards where they kept the wolf.
“I think Nick was meant to feed her but I guess she’s been lethargic and hasn’t moved since Friday.” hekabe sighed, “and she snarls if anyone gets near her cage. So. Wolf whisperer if you would.”
“I see…” he sighed and headed into the room, “Moony are you being a bad girl?” he asked as he headed towards the cage. She was laying facing away but her ear perked up. He leaned over and opened the door.
She laid there tiredly and he frowned, “she really doesn’t seem well… wha---” he paused. He grabbed her dish and frowned, “who gave her kibble?”
Hekabe pinched her nose, “I told them not to do that she’s a wild wolf.”
“Let’s get her something e--” he paused when she bit his sleeve. He blinked seeing her standing properly. He grinned and started to chuckle, “look at you!”
She tilted her head and walked a bit.
Hekabe’s eyes widened, “her leg is better?”
“Maybe she needed rest.” he set the kibble on top of the cage to check her back leg. He removed the bandages and looked at the scar along it, “it doesn’t look bad at all!” 
She walked around him whining she tugged his sleeve and moved towards the door and got on her back legs.
“I think she wants out.” he laughed. He smiled, “Can you get her a proper meal? I’m going to walk around with her some.” he opened the door and let her lead the way.
As they walked he paused as he heard some of the rangers chatting. The wolf froze seeing the backpack one of them held.
“Guess some campers found this hidden in a tree. Got an ID and some clothing. Amaris Gaurd---HEY!” Cain gasped as the wolf snatched the bag in her mouth and growled.
“Ugh! Stop letting that thing wander! That’s dangerous!” Bonny hissed at the vet who had gone pale.
“W-who’s bag is that?” he asked shakily, “A-amaris…?”
“Not a common name, someone you know?” Bonny asked as she looked at the wolf and tried to get the backpack. The wolf backed up and looked around. She bit hard on the bag as her tail flicked angrily.
“Wolf talker, get yer damn mutt to give that back. It’s unconfirmed but no one has seen miss Guardian---”
“In two weeks…” he mumbled as he walked over to the wolf, “M-Moony can I…” he choked, “give. Give me that bag!” he pleaded, “I-If it’s Amaris’.... She could be hurt.. O-or…” 
She flattened her ears. She dropped the bag to lick his face reassuringly. She huffed when he paused and she grabbed the bag again. He stared confused and gasped.
“D-Do you know amaris?” he asked her.
The wolf looked away.
“It doesn’t understand you.” Bonny sighed, “it’s a damn mutt.”
“Wolves are smart.” Cain pointed out, “maybe she can lead like a scent hound!” he jested, “but Ru… you and Miss Guardian…?”
“S-She’s my neighbor.” he admitted sheepishly, “I-I don’t know her well but… she brings me food she makes if she makes too much and I like listening to her sing… honestly I’ve been debating asking her on a date but---”
The wolf yelped in shock. He turned confused. She had her ears bent back and was looking away. He sighed and pet the top of her head. He tried to get the backpack but she held it firmly.
“She… I’m not saying this creepy just. I think she’s nice but I had noticed she hadn’t been home in a few days. I figured traveling but… I don’t know…” he gasped as the wolf took off. She ran down the halls and he began to chase after her. She pushed the door open and fled into the yard before jumping the fence.
“S-Someone get that wolf!” bonny shouted and grabbed her walkie, “We have a white wolf loose, potentially has evidence of a potential missing pers---”
“I-I AM NOT MISSING.” came a voice from the tree line. A young woman with snowy white hair stuck her head around the tree as she panted heavily. Her face was bright red as she adjusted her shirt and walked towards the fence barefoot. She fixed her bag and winced as she walked. She lifted her leg with a frown, “I-I’m not missing! I-I just misplaced my bag!” she stated with a frown. She laughed nervously and tried to give a smile.
Arulius stared at her and turned red himself, “M-Miss Guardian… w-what are you d-doing o-out by--- D-Did you see a wolf?” he fretted.
“S-she’s fine.” she grumbled and tried to smooth her hair down, “S-She’ll be f-fine. Y-you people worry too much. She dropped my bag and ran. I-I’ve been… looking for it.” she looked away ashamed.
Bonny frowned, “are you really miss guardian? Amaris? Owner of that bag?”
“Y-Yes she’s my neighbor! I told you!” Arulius sighed and moved towards the fence to lean over it. “Were you traveling?”
“I hurt my leg. I had to… heal up some.” she admitted, “I just got… out.” she chewed her lip and looked up at him. He gave a small smile. He paused as he looked down and noticed the scar on her leg. He frowned, “are you okay? Where are your shoes?”
“O-Oh I um.. I was just.. So panicked and I forgot them and I um.. I just needed my bag cuz my wallet and keys are in it and I wasn’t able to go anywhere.” she laughed nervously, “T-the people caring for me couldn’t speak the same language s-so I wasn’t able to be like h-hey I’ll be okay let me go! B-But it was okay someone I-I kinda know was t-there and made it a bit easier.”
He frowned, “w-were you captive?” he fretted worried, looking at the two park rangers with wide gold eyes, “S-Should we---”
“N-No far from it just um. I uh…” her stomach growled loudly and she covered her face ashamed. “P-Please ignore that I-I haven’t eaten in a few da---” she gasped as he climbed the fence. She went to back up and tripped, whining as she hit her bad leg. He bent down and lifted her up causing her to yelp. She gripped his neck as he started to walk back inside.
Bonny sighed, “cancel that wolf hunt.” she spoke in her walkie and rubbed her eyes, “No missing persons either apparently.”
Cain stared at the woman in the vet’s arms and frowned, “werewolf?” he asked rather bluntly. 
She tensed up and wouldn’t look at him.
“Don’t be a shit head. Werewolves don’t exist.” Bonny sighed as they headed back in, “You idiot.”
“I don’t know.” Cain shrugged as he looked as Arulius set Amaris on a chair so he could look at her leg carefully. “A white wolf wouldn’t let anyone near her BUT Arulius. Miss Guardian states there was a language thing preventing her from getting out of treatment but she had someone she knew. Then the wolf gets alarmed we had Miss Guardian’s bag and ran off with it and when we order a hunt Miss Guardian is conveniently there and no wolf.”
“That just sounds like a story.” bonny shook her head, “god You need to lay of the no sleep forum.”
“Also heterochromatic eyes aren’t common.” he gestured his thumb at her, “Black and Blue. And snow-white hair.”
“I-It’s a coincidence!” she held her hands up, “T-Truly. W-werewolves don’t exist.”
Arulius took her hand in his with a heavy sigh. She looked at him and gave him a smile. 
“I’m okay. Really. Mr. Law.” she assured him, “I’m okay. I just need to get home and off my leg. It’s been messed with too much this week so it keeps healing wrong.” she sighed heavily, “if i just leave it, it’ll put itself back but when people mess with it even though well-meaning it shifts the bones wrong.” she raised a hand and debated a moment before she put it on top of his chestnut hair and pet it lightly, “I’m sorry if I worried you… I didn’t… I really didn’t think anyone would notice if a dog trainer went missing.” she pulled her hand back.
He gave a sigh of relief and got up. Walking towards reception he took a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled on it before walking back over and held it to her. She took it and turned a bright red.
“T-T-T-This is y-y-y-your!” she gasped as he scratched his cheek ashamed.
“I-If you get hurt again or something, c-call me okay?” he smiled back at her, “Do you want a ride home? You were limping…”
She frowned and held her bag and the number tightly, “I-I couldn’t ask f-for that. I-I can w-wal--”
“We live 10 miles from the park?” he frowned, “I’m not--- no. I may be a vet but that’s just dumb. I’ll drive you.”
“What are you doing? Where’s m--” Hekabe walked down the hall and saw the woman with the white hair. She blinked and looked at the rangers and then her coworker, “what’s this? Where’s our wolf?”
“S-She ran back home.” Amaris frowned, “gave me my backpack and ran.”
“R-Right.” Arulius sighed, “I guess. Um. Hekabe I need to drive Miss. Guardian home.” he rubbed his neck.
“So THIS is the infamous Miss. Guardian…” She grinned, “Now I see why you’re smitten like a kitten.” she purred teasingly as the young man froze. The woman on the chair tensing up the same way. She burst out laughing, “Oh young love!”
“H-He can’t love m-me!” Amaris blurted out, “U-Um I just. I-I’m fine I-I can walk, it’s fine I-I walked here… kinda…” she grumbled and rubbed her sore leg.
“Are we sure werewolves are fake?” Cain asked again as Bonny sighed and shook her head.
Amaris went to stand, rushing to leave but was grabbed by Arulius. She whined and struggled against him as he scowled.
“Let me drive you! We live in the same building!” he spoke forcefully, “you’re clearly in pain walking is going to make it worse.”
“B-But I w-won’t be f-fine!” she whined, “Y-You’re being t-too nice! I-it’s unfair!”
“She likes him.” Cain mumbled, “clearly, right?”
“Yeah. and he’s clearly has the hots for her. I’ve heard him talk in the break room.” Bonny sighed.
Hekabe shook her head and walked over, “Miss. Guardian, just let him drive you. It’s not like he’s asking to date you.” she gave a sweet smile as the young man started to sweat bullets. “Right, Ru? I mean unless you are planning to ask her. She’s cute, and I think you’ve mentioned y---”
She laughed as he pushed Amaris out the front door and into the parking lot before the vet could finish talking.
“He reminds me of my husband at that age.” she held her cheek with a chuckle.
“I still think she’s a werewolf,” Cain mumbled.
------
She held her bag as she sat in the passenger seat of the young man’s minivan as he got in the driver’s side. He tried to fix his hair in the mirror and started it as they sat quietly. He started to drive and peeked over at her as she looked at her feet.
The car was quiet. He cleared his throat getting her attention.
“D-Do you want music?” he asked sheepishly, “I have some CDs of violin performances?”
Her face lit up some, “please! I love violin!” she giggled, “well most classical. I love the sounds. I used to play piano before I moved.”
“We should duet!” he blurted out, “I-I have a violin and I-I’m a little rusty but if you like…”
She stared at him as he focused on the road. She buried her face against her bag.
“S-Sorry I shouldn’t have… Um just I t-thought to offer if you liked music and stuff…” he clicked the music on as he drove.
“I-It’s not that just… Um…” she mumbled, “S-Sorry t-this isn’t you.. You’re a really sweet guy… a-and thoughtful and… I’m not someone you should want to spend those t-types of friendly thoughts on…”
He pulled into their apartment parking lot and frowned, “what say that?” he asked as she unbuckled. He looked at her seriously. He took a deep breath, “this is the worse way to… Um.. you’re really cute and I want to know you better…”
She kept her face hidden and squeaked some. He laughed and she huffed. She peeked from how she leaned on her bag and saw him staring at her. She frowned and puffed her cheeks up.
“T-That’s not fair!”
“You said that at the station too. What’s not fair?” he asked, reaching over to unlock her door for her and unbuckled himself.
“You’re too sweet.” she opened the door to get out. She winced as she got on her leg. He walked around to help her towards the apartment building. 
“I’m really not.” he shrugged, “says the woman who gives me free food.”
She turned red, “I-I have eyes bigger than my stomach is all and I make too much a-and you’re t-too thin. E-even if you can lift me.” she huffed as he helped her up the stairs.
He smirked and scooped her up as she squealed. His cold hand on her thigh. She held on tightly.
“I admit I’m bad about remembering to eat so sometimes your meals are the first thing I’ve eaten those days.” he headed down the hall towards their apartments. She sighed seeing the mail in her box and groaned.
“Do you have any food allergies?” he asked as he set her down so she could unlock her door.
“Chocolate. That’s about it. I can eat most things.” she pushed her door open and grabbed her mail.
“Okay cool. Favorite pizza topping?”
“Meat lovers--- why?” she turned confused as the vet grinned.
“I get out at 6. I’ll bring Pizza.” he smiled. He rubbed his red cheek, “you feed me so can’t I do the same?”
She nearly dropped her mail and frowned as her stomach growled again, “w-why do you…”
“I want to know you.” he scratched his cheek, “I’ve spent two weeks worried about you. Y-You said you didn’t think anyone would notice… This sounds creepy but I noticed the first day…”
She frowned and was quiet, “you… really noticed I was gone?” she chewed her lip.
“I did…” he gasped when she pulled him into her apartment and shut the door. He blinked confused as she looked at him and leaned against it. He was confused as the lights were off but he could see her eyes clearly.
“He was right.” she admitted softly. “Knowing that do you still….”
“He…” he frowned in thought and gasped, “w-what Cain’s ramblings?”
She nodded, “M-Moony…. Me….” she gulped and put a hand to her chest, “I-I’m the white wolf you’ve been caring for.”
He stared at her as she fiddled with her hair. His smile twitched. He curled up to his knees and held his head.
“N-No way…”
“I-I know it’s disgust---”
“ARG I SAID SO MANY EMBARASSING THINGS TO YOU!!!” he lamented loudly. She blinked in shock as he stood up and leaned over her.
“W-waht?” she gulped.
“D-Do I have to say it if you heard it already?!” he asked her with a small huff, “I-It’s so embarrassing! I-If you’re really moony then y-you--- You know what I feel about you!”
“Y-yes w-well I thought.. Maybe kidding around with the dog in the clinic.” she played with her hair as she looked at the floor, “B-but… I guess I was glad someone… noticed…” she huffed some, “even if I’m a wolf do you still… want to go on a date…?”
He blinked and grinned, “I think you know this. But I’m a bit of a wolf whisperer.” he joked. She rolled her eyes some and looked up at him as he smiled.  
“So…?” he asked quietly, “Um…. did you uh…. Want to go out? Not until your legs healed but a stay in date…”
“Get extra bacon on the pizza. I have chips…. If they are still good… has been two weeks since I was home.” she smiled.
“I’ll get more. Soda?” he asked as he finally pulled away. He rubbed his neck sheepishly.
“Oh… no caffeine. I cna’t do anything with caffeine.” she scratched her cheek.
“Ah yeah that is bad for wolves huh… are your allergies all teh same?” he asked as he covered his mouth in thought.
“I can eat plants and veggies a bit easier than a real wolf and breads but Caffine gives me a headache and chocolate makes my break out in hives and i go into shock. I have an epi pen for that one.” she laughed, “I’m not born this way.”
“Really?” he asked curiously, “is it a bite thing… ah…. You’ve licked me…”
She turned bright red, “y-you were really upset!”
He got a sly grin, “Miss. guardian….”
“You can call me Amaris… or moony.” she huffed, “you guessed one of my nicknames.”
He turned bright red, “I-I actually just---” he turned red and covered his face, “I-I heard your brother call you Moony once--- and when I saw the white wolf i thought of you so Moony---”
She stared and started to laugh loudly. She stood on her toes best she could, “did you really keep that much of a watch? That’s a lil creepy. Arulius.”
She gasped when he kissed her forehead. She blinked and cracked a smile as she laughed and leaned against him. He shifted to put his arms on her waist.
“I-I said it wasn’t trying to be creepy. Our walls are thin.” he frowned, “i’ve been trying to think of the best way to ask you out… honestly the next time you brought food over I was going to ask if you wanted to eat together…” he placed his forehead on hers, “who knew I just needed to confess all my feelings to an injured wolf… is your leg okay?”
“It’s sore but if I get off it and live on the couch in human form for a few days i should be right as rain!” she grinned showing her fangs. She turned red, “also if you’re worried, no I’m not a bite and turn type. It was an accidental cursing thing.”
“Oh…. cure…?” he asked curiously and she shook her head.
“Well.” he smiled and grinned gently, “I like wolves.”
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