#i had sleeping problems but listening to his sooting voice helped me a lot
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rjshope · 3 months ago
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clareguilty · 3 years ago
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Coal Fires and Snowstorms
This was a request fic that was originally for the Overwatch cowboy but I changed to Arthur Morgan for... apparent reasons Arthur Morgan/F!Reader (reader also has big enby vibes) Rating: Mature | No Warnings Word Count: ~2,200
Arthur wakes with a wheeze, bolting upright and smacking his chest with his fist as he tries to pull in enough air.
He’s shirtless, but a woven blanket had been draped over him while he was unconscious. A ray of light cuts through a grimy window. The angle is harsh enough that it’s probably late in the evening.
The last thing Arthur can remember is the dark of the night and the clamoring of the law on his heels. So he’s been out for at least a day.
His lips are dry and cracked, and his muscles groan in protest with every movement. God, his head is pounding like he was hit by a damn train.
A door creaks open, and there’s a squeak of surprise. “Oh! You’re awake!”
Arthur blinks in the harsh sunlight that’s streaming into the small cabin. Whoever is there is bundled up in furs and a jacket with a bow over their shoulder. They’ve got two armfuls of game practically swallowing them.
“Who are you? Where am I?” He means for it to sound rough and demanding, but it’s more croaky and pathetic when the words pass his lips.
“I’m not really anybody, and this is my cabin up in Cumberland. The law chased you a long ways from Annesburg didn’t they? You must have done something real bad.” The hunter dumps all the game onto the table and rushes to the bedroll where Arthur lays. “You aren’t hurt too bad or nothing, but you’ve got a real nasty cough. I’ve got tea and herbs that should help. I bandaged up all the bleeding bits as best I could”
Arthur is bewildered. He knows there had been a fire in Annesburg -- the coal had gone up in a pyre in seconds. Somehow, he had gotten separated from Dutch and the others. The smoke had taken him like crows to a carcass, and he was lucky to make it across the ridge with the way his eyes and lungs were burning.
The last thing he remembered was the pinkertons still on his heels and the darkness of the trees as he tried to hide in the brush. He must have made it to cover before the smoke and the soot finally got him.
He flinches as the hunter sticks an open flask under his nose. “Tea. It’s bitter but you’ll need it.”
Arthur sniffs the mouth of the flask, but it sure does just smell like weeds and water. He takes a sip and wrinkles his nose. But the flavor is a small price to pay for the way the liquid soothes the burning in his mouth and throat.
“Thank you,” he says. “You could have left me in those woods to rot. I appreciate you dragging my sorry ass back here.”
You grin and pat the bandage on his arm. “It weren’t much trouble, but you sure are one large fella.” Arthur thinks you must be a young boy -- it’s hard to tell. Your hair is short under your cap but your voice isn’t all that low.
You turn to the game on the table and grab a knife from your belt. “I hunted enough for the both of us the next few days. It’s gonna be a while before you’ve got your strength back, and a snowstorm is rolling in off the Grizzlies anyways.”
Arthur frowns. “Bit early for snow, isn’t it?”
You shrug. “Winter never listens to me. At least the game was out. Everyone is trying to feed as much as they can before it gets too cold to hunt. That includes us.”
Arthur grunts and struggles to his feet. “I can help with those,” he offers.
You watch him with narrowed eyes, obviously skeptical of Arthur’s strength. “Take the small ones,” you offer up the rabbits and squirrels.
Arthur usually doesn’t have a problem skinning game, but the smoke must have gotten to him more than he thought because he finds himself having to take a rest after just a few minutes. He finishes off the flask of tea and sorts through his pack and weapons.
“My horse…” he asks after a while.
“She’s fine,” you say. “I found her not far from where you were unconscious and she helped me get you back here. She’s out back with my Old Girl.”
“Thank you,” Arthur sounds genuinely touched. “She really means a lot to me.”
You shoot him another smile. “You’re nothing but a big softie, ain’t ya? What could you have done to have the law chasing you all the way across the damn country?”
Arthur rubs the back of his neck, flushing in embarrassment. “My folks might have blown up Annesburg? I don’t actually know how much of it is left…”
“Ha!” you bark. “You’re with them van der Linde folks?”
Arthur’s silence is answer enough.
“I won’t judge,” you shrug. “You’re safe as long as you want to rest here.”
And rest Arthur does. He’s confined to the bedroll, rolled out on a warm pile of furs near the stove. You’re good company, witty and friendly and far too nosy for your own good. Arthur learns that you’ve has been living in these parts for a few years now, trapping and hunting and crafting to sell in town every few weeks. It’s more of a living than Arthur could ever ask for. Arthur thinks he might be sweet on you.
It’s another day before he’s got the strength to walk. He makes it outside to his horse, glad to see that she’s well taken care of. You had said you were going off to bathe in a nearby stream, and Arthur follows the sound of the water.
He’s not expecting what he finds. The water is shallow but fast moving, and he sees a familiar jacket hung on a branch by the bank.
You’re turned away, rinsing in the ice cold water, and Arthur can see the gooseflesh on your skin.
But when you turn slightly, it’s the swell of breasts and the curve of hips that catches Arthur’s attention. He averts his eyes quickly, darting back towards the cabin with his cheeks stained pink.
Now that he thinks about it, you had never said that you were a man. Arthur had simply figured it was most likely. The soft voice and gentle features make more sense now.
“You had better wash up if you want to,” you say when you return to the cabin. “The snow is coming in tonight. I can smell it. I stocked up on herbs for your cough and we’ve got plenty of provisions. I’m gonna split some more wood to bring inside.”
Arthur can’t help but find it attractive that you’re so knowledgeable and well prepared. He makes his way to the stream on his own and washes up in the frigid water, pushing through another coughing fit when the cold makes his muscles seize.
It’s already getting colder when he gets back inside. His weak breath fogs even inside the cabin and the little stove can’t do nearly enough to warm the small space.
“You’re going to freeze,” he tells you. He’s big enough to handle the cold -- spent a damn month up in the grizzlies without much of a problem -- but you surely won’t last the snowstorm.
“I’ve made it before,” you say with a huff and a glare. “I’ve got plenty of furs to keep me warm.”
“Put your bedroll beside mine,” Arthur insists. “We can share the blankets.”
The snow begins to fall, sticking to the ground in wet clumps, and you brace yourselves for the days to come. You’re practically strangers -- save for the fact that you had dragged Arthur out of the woods and saved his life. Now you have no choice but to rely on each other until the snow melts.
Arthur wakes in the night to your violent shivering under the blankets. He pulls you so that you’re pressed against his chest, tucking both of you under the quilts closer together. “I thought you said you’d made it through this before?”
You huff, teeth chattering. “I survived. I never said I kept warm.”
“Stay close to me. It’s my turn to keep you alive.” He drifts back to sleep to the howl of the winter winds.
The next morning he’s greeted by a bowl of piping stew that makes his sinuses burn. “I had some jarred peppers I keep for weather just like this. You’re in no condition for liquor so this is the best you’re gonna get.”
Arthur accepts the stew graciously. He’s not ready for the way you stand on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek when he offers to wash both of the bowls.
You pass the time snowed in with several rounds of cards. Arthur tells stories about him and the gang until his throat aches and he starts coughing again, and so the you regale Arthur with your life’s tale and a few stories you picked up over the years. You’re curled up next to each other in front of the stove, and you have no shame about burrowing against Arthur in a quest for body heat. He lets you steal as much as you want.
“I thought you were a boy when I first woke up,” Arthur says.
You shrug. “Most people do. I find it makes things easier a lot of the time. How’d you figure me out?” You don’t seem to feel too strongly one way or another about how Arthur and others see you.
Arthur hides his embarrassment behind a cough. “I, uh, caught you washing up in the stream.”
“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s pretty solid proof, ain’t it.” You’re smiling, not shy at all. “You’re not mad at me for lying, are you?”
“You never lied,” Arthur says. “I just came to my own conclusions. Doesn’t matter much to me anyways, whether you’re a man or a woman.”
You frown at that. “Doesn’t matter?”
“Nah,” Arthur ruffles your short hair. “You’re cute either way.”
It’s the right thing to say. The frown disappears and you settle back against him, humming contentedly.
He wakes in the night to the feeling of your breath on his neck. You shift and your lips brush against his skin. He can’t help the way his whole body tenses at the sensation. His arm is draped around your waist, holding you close because he knows you’ll freeze if he doesn’t.
He pulls you in closer. Every inch where your skin touches his feels oversensitive and hot. You’re still asleep -- he can tell from how slow you breath against his skin, but you reach an arm around his neck and burrow against him.
His heart begins to race. He’s flushed and half asleep and you fit against him so well in this tiny cabin that you’ve made your home. One of his hands slides down your back. You moan as his palm passes over the small of your back and the curve of your ass. His hand comes to the back of your thigh, but you shift again and rock your hips against him.
He gasps, then has to fight back a cough. He doesn’t want to wake you, but your quest for warmth has you plastered against him in a very compromising position. It’s starting to make his long johns downright painful, and he thinks he’ll combust in shame.
You rock against him once more, mumbling sleepily into his skin.
“Darlin’” he croaks. But the sound doesn’t wake you. He tries to wriggle an arm between you so he can push you off, but instead he winds up with a handful of your breast, and the most gorgeous sound he’s ever heard escapes your lips.
He freezes. He’s painfully hard now, and you’re still gently rocking against him in your sleep, perhaps even more so now that he’s got a hand on your chest.
“Arthur, please,” you whine.
He’s pretty sure you’re awake by now, so he readjusts his hand and rubs his thumb over the peak of your nipple. You let out another breathy moan against his skin. This time when he runs a hand over your ass he lets himself take a moment to appreciate how it feels under his palm, they way his fingers sink into the soft skin beneath your winter sleep clothes. He once again places his hand on the back of your thigh and pulls you so that your hips are lined up with his, straddling him under the blankets.
You whine against him once more and grind your hips downward. The friction does way more for him than he imagines it must for you, and his vision whites out momentarily at the heat and weight of you against him.
He loses himself in the motion of your hips for several long moments, but then your whines grow frustrated and unsatisfied and he knows exactly what your after.
Gripping both of your hips tightly, he flips you both so that you’re laying back on the bedroll and he’s kneeling over you.
Your eyes fly open.
“Arthur?”
“You were asleep?” he looks absolutely bewildered.
“I thought so? I was having the best dream.” Your eyes look past him as you remember.
“I don’t think you were dreaming, sweetheart,” he chuckles. He leans in to place an open mouthed kiss against your neck. You gasp and dig your nails into his shoulder.
“Then I think you had better keep going, cowboy.”
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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years ago
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You Love Me?
Summary: After Tommy accuses her of trying to take Grace’s place as Charlie’s mother, Y/n leaves the house, trying to forget the words he said to her. Running from her problems, Y/n decided to drink the night away and face her problems in the morning.
Request: 13 angst and 2 humor for Tommy as well please? I like your writing a lot!
Requested by @jenepleurepasbaby
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: language, alcohol, drugs
A/N: This is probabaly trash and after editing it, I could have done so much more with it but I’m lazy. And I know that I said I was taking a break this week, but I spent all day working on a lab write up and needed to write something I actually enjoy, so this is it. It sucks, but I don’t care. Oh, requests are open and I will be editing my fandoms list so, yeah.
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“I think you need to take a break, Tommy.” Y/n stood behind him, looking over at the papers he was hunched over. She ran her hands over his tense shoulders and decided to rub out the knots. “You’ve been at this for hours, how about you come join Charlie and I on our walk?”
A grumble was all she got in response before he through her hands off him. 
“Tommy, please. You deserve a break.” She was met with silence. Y/n huffed and walked in front of his desk. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Charlie. He misses you. You spend all your time in your fucking office and none with him. He needs his father.” Her words finally caused the man to look up, but there was nothing but anger in his eyes.
“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion,” Tommy stated. Leaning back in his chair, daggers for eyes stared back at Y/n. “How would you know what my boy needs, hm? Your not his mother, now are you?” 
The questions stung, causing cracks in her heart. Y/n never tried to be Charlie’s mother. All she ever wanted to be was someone the boy could come to in a time of need. Someone to support him and love him, but never his mother. She could never do that.
“All you are is my fucking whore! Nothing more, nothing less! Now fuck off, will ya?”
He didn’t have to ask her twice as Y/n ran out of the room, tears pooling in her eyes. She wanted to blame it all on stress from work, but how could she believe that when the words cut her so deeply. She had always thought of herself as more than just his whore, accepting the fact that he wasn’t quite ready for marriage. 
But he loved her.
Tommy loved her, that’s what she once knew. Now, dodging furniture and maids, with tears in her eyes, she was uncertain. Finally, upon the room she shared with Tommy, she quickly opened the door and shut it behind her. Sliding down the door, once she hit the floor, tears spilled out like a raging river. Sobs echoes through the room as she pulled her knees to her chest. 
Was she no more than a whore to him? Was she wasting her life on a man who would never want her? Questions as such ran wild through her brain, no answer in sight. How was she to know Tommy��s intentions when he never gave away much. 
“It’s alright,” Y/n whispered to herself, her head resting against her knee. Her eyes roamed the room, trying to grasp onto something, anything that could distract her. Then, out of the corner of her eye, the sun hit glittering fabric from the wardrobe. Wiping her tears, she pushed herself off the door and trudged over to the wardrobe. The door creaked as she pulled out the fabric, a glittering blue dress that Tommy had bought her. It was beautiful in the light, sparkling like a crystal ball, tragic that it had never been worn. 
Upon seeing the dress, an idea popped into her head. She wouldn’t spend all day crying over a fucking man, she would having more fun than that.
*~~*~~*
A smile broke out across her face as the band played a new song. “I fucking love this color,” Y/n ran her finger over the bar.
Her friend, Beth, giggled a reaction from one too many cocktails. “Yeah,” she drawled. “It’s… lovely.”
Y/n let out a sigh and leaned her head on the counter. She was unclear what time it was, vision hazy from the alcohol, but it was getting late, the sun setting outside. “We should go dancing!” she declared, raising her head up a little to fast.
Beth nodded, “We should. We…” Her sentence dropped off as a pair of men walked through the door. A nudge from Y/n brought her attention back to what she was saying. “We haven’t done that… in ages.”
Y/n slide off the barstool after chugging the last of her drink. She then grabbed her friend by the elbow and dragged her out of the pub. They were in the wealthy part of Birmingham, the part that wasn’t covered in dirt and death. People from this part of town didn’t die falling into machinery or from soot coating their lungs. These people usually died from consuming too much alcohol or drugs or in their sleep at the age of 85. Being in that part of town also meant that Y/n could do whatever the fuck she wanted.
No longer in Small Heath, she needn’t worry about the rage of Thomas Shelby. There weren’t Peaky Blinders or members of the Shelby family around every corner. There was no one to tell her to go home or to bite back the tears and leave Tommy alone. She was finally free. Free from the filth, from the looks, from the whispers that came from being with a dangerous man. 
For the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n like the person she used to be. 
The pair ented a club, one Y/n knew would give them the high they were seeking. Drugs were strewn on tables like leftovers and alcohol was soaking everything from the walls to the tables. If you wanted to forget something, it seemed, this was the place to go.
Dodging people too drunk to stand, Y/n made her way to the dance floor, Beth right behind her. Once in the middle of the floor, she couldn’t help but start dancing, grabbing a random person to dance with her. “I fucking love this!”
“Me too!” her friend shouted above the music. 
The danced for a long while, opting to dance with each other rather than the men around them. It was more fun that away, being able to express themselves with no other intentions but enjoying themselves. Both women were tired of being chased after by men to only become sex toys in their eyes. 
“I dumped Jack!” Beth yelled, throwing her arms in the air to the beat of the music. 
Y/n laughed, “About fuckin’ time! You should’ve dumped him ages ago!” The music picked up, much faster than it was before, causing her to let out a squeal as she started jumping around. “I love Tommy!”
Beth stopped dancing and grabbed Y/n’s arm, pulling her close. “You what?” Her friend said something, but even with their proximity to each other, Beth was unable to hear her. She pulled the two over to the edge of the dance floor until she spotted a table for them to sit at. “You what?” she repeated.
A little out of breath, Y/n rested her elbows against the table. “I love him, Beth. I love Tommy.” A waitress came over a collected their orders before she could continue. Once the woman was out of earshot, she said, “But I don’t think… I don’t know if he loves me.”
Beth huffed and leaned back in her chair. “Men are arseholes.”
“Yeah, yeah, they are.”
After a few drinks later and many tears, the two stumbled out of the club. Y/n didn’t want to go home and face Tommy, who she knew would be angry, instead, Beth insisted she stay with her. So, the two stumbled and giggled the whole way to her apartment, going on and on about how the needed to go back to that club. 
“I want a ham sandwich,” Beth muttered from where she laid on the couch. 
“Me too,” Y/n agreed, lying on the floor, before falling asleep.
*~~*~~*
The next morning, Beth and Y/n woke up, heads pounding, and made ham sandwiches before Y/n decided to leave. She didn’t want to impose and found it best to figure out her next moves on her own. 
On the streets of Birmingham, she walked all the way to Small Heath, watching the large shops and fancy restaurants change into dirty brick houses and factories. The closer she was to the Small Heath, the less she knew. All she knew was that her head felt like it had been smashed in and her feet ached from the long walk and all the dancing she had done the night before. There was no way she was ready to face her problems. 
Before she could compose herself, Y/n saw Polly walking down the street. The woman had yet to see her and Y/n wanted to keep it that way. With her head to the ground, she quickened her pace and prayed she wouldn’t be seen. God obviously wasn’t listening as Polly called over to her.
“Y/n.” The woman walked over to her. With a smile, Y/n lifted her eyes from the pavement, ashamed that she had to be seen with makeup running down her face, unruly hair, and yesterday’s clothes. “What happened to you?”
Where was she to start? “Um, it’s a long story…”
“Does this have something to do with Tommy?” A nod confirmed her suspicions causing her to swear under her breath. Her nephews only knew two things: how to run women off and how to chose the wrong ones. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” her voice was gentle as she led Y/n to her house.
Y/n did nothing as Polly helped her clean up, wiping the makeup off her cheeks and comb the rats out of her hair. She sat there, blank face, and let her thoughts run wild. All her worries from the day before had vanished, no longer holding the weight they once did. She was at the point where she believed that what happened, happened. Whether fate was real or not was not up for debate, it didn’t matter. Life played out in odd ways and if things got better than they got better. If they didn’t then she would deal with it when that happened. 
“Polly, why weren’t you at the meeting?” Tommy’s voice boomed through the house. 
“Fuck,” Polly muttered, having forgotten the meeting as soon as she’d seen Y/n. “I was busy,” she replied from the kitchen, where she sat next to Y/n at the table.
“What could be-” His sentence faltered when he entered the kitchen and saw Y/n. She was cleaned up, but it wasn’t hard for him to see she was exhausted. “You’re here.”
“I was going to go back home, but then I remembered that you lived there too,” she said, eyes trained on the cup of tea that sat in front of her. 
A sigh escaped his lips, he knew he fucked up. Even before Y/n had left his office the day before, he knew. The harsh words that left his lips weren’t meant to meet the air. He was stressed and angry with work and should’ve never taken his frustrations out on Y/n. 
Polly excused herself upon seeing the tension between the room but didn’t leave until she made it clear that Tommy had to fix what he’d done. Y/n was one of the only good things in his life and she’d be damned if he messed that up. 
“I’m sorry for what I said.”
Y/n snorted. “Then why’d you say it?”
Closing the distance, Tommy strode over to the table, taking a seat next to her. He grasped her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull it away. “I should have listened to you, love. You and Charlie deserve better. And I know you do your best to respect Grace and I shouldn’t have said otherwise. You love Charlie like he’s your own and you don’t have to. You don’t even have to fucking like him, but you love my boy. And you love me even after knowing what I’ve done.”
Y/n gave him a small smile. “You love me?”
He rolled his eyes, “Is that all you got from that?”
“No.” She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer. “That’s just my favorite part.” She pulled him into a kiss.
*~~*~~*
@amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @the-anxious-youth @theshelbyclan @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @lucillethings @captivatedbycillianmurphy
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nitannichionne · 4 years ago
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If He Was YOUR Fan Chapter 26: Come What May
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CHAPTER 26: COME WHAT MAY                                         
You are not hearing this, you tell yourself, you are not hearing this! You envision the look on Henry’s face if you decide to tell him this—you have to tell him this. You shake your head, wanting to put your head over your ears as the doctor spoke. “What do you mean?” You ask the doctor. “It’s been eleven weeks, and I’m here, what’s the problem?”
“We cannot give you the injection until we know you are not pregnant.”
“But—”
“I know this is an inconvenience, but we took blood and urine and we see the depo provera is substantially weakened in your system and it hasn’t been twelve weeks. Come back in two weeks and test, and if you’re negative, we will give you the shot.”
You gasp. “Doctor—”
“Your injection seems to be weakening after an estimated eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks?!” your eyes fill with tears, shaking your head. “So—”
“So, you need to be careful after eight weeks instead of ten or eleven,” he nods. “I’m sorry, it’s the best we can do.”
 Stella calling your name breaks into your thoughts from earlier in the day. Your misting vision clears as you look at the ring on your hand. “Hey, you okay?”
You don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want to talk to anyone, not even Henry.
“You’re scaring me,” Stella whispers, taking your hand. “I won’t tell anybody.” She looks around and whispers even softer. “You and Henry fighting?”
We might be, you think.
“I see the way he looks at you,” Stella encourages. “I’m sure you will work it out, okay?” She smiles. “If not, we’ll beat him down with bags of potatoes!”
You hug her and she slowly brings her arms around you. “Thank you!”
“No problem,” she says slowly. “Whatever it is, it’s gonna be okay, alright?”
You nod, half believing her words. This was major.
You meet Henry at his trailer as you have every Friday for awhile now. You see him and you try to brighten.
He smiles and you smile, not quite trusting your voice yet. He kisses you in greeting and says, “Let me get my stuff. Stay here, Kal.”
“Hey, boy,” you say softly, petting him. “Hard day at the office?” You laugh softly as he licks your face in greeting.
He drives you to his home, and you sit as he starts a fire. “Did the shirts arrive today?”
“Uh, yeah, I got a notification on my phone.”
“You really want to dress for the party?” he asks, laughing softly, bringing you a glass of wine and going back into the kitchen.
“I thought it’d be fun,” you shrug. “Besides, we’re just wearing shirts, really.”
“Yeah, District 12 shirts.”
“I thought it’d be simple, and it won’t really feel like a costume, you dress up enough as it is.” You sit, thinking of the party next weekend. Would he even want to go? How is going to react--
“Okay, what’s going on?” He stands over you with a wooden tray of bread, butter and cheese with grapes.
“What?” you look up from your glass. Sometimes the man moves too quietly, you think.
“You’re remarkably quiet,” he smirks. “Everything okay?”
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Your eyes drop to your lap, and your smile fades.  How do you tell him?
“Wait, you had an appointment today, right?”
You can’t look at him at first, but when you do, you regret it. He looks upset and angry and you want to melt into the floor.
He sits next to you, and looks at the glass of wine in your hands. His jaw tightens. “Okay. Start talking.”
“I have to wait two weeks to take the shot.” You stare at the fire.
“Why?”
“Because the drug weakened in my system.”
“Shit.”
“Henry—” you reach for him and he stiffens. “Henry!”
“If you knew that the damn thing didn’t work—”
“Hold it,” You raise a hand. “You think I actually knew that?”
“How could you not?”
“Easy enough,” you say. “I don’t normally do this. I don’t sleep around!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I haven’t been in a lot of relationships, especially like we are.”
“You mean, unprotected-reckless?”
“Reckless.” You repeat. “So I’m a reckless choice?”
“I didn’t say that--” he shakes his head.
“I have my own shit, you know!” you snap. “I don’t need you-have a place of my own back home, and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you!” Tears sprang to your eyes, ruining your declaration of independence.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he says, coming close.
You back away, and he whispers your name as he extends his hand.
“I- I don’t want it like this!” You shake your head. “I want you to want me…” I hit my chest hard, making him flinch. “for me! I don’t want to be some burden, or a problem or—"
“What do you think that ring means?”
“I don’t know!” you say, wiping your tears furiously. “Stella gasped when she saw it, said she’d tell me later, but we didn’t have girl time this week—”
In two strides he has you in his arms. “I know you are not like that, alright? You don’t need me, but you want me.”
“Yes—”
He raises your hand with the ring on it. “Think, sweetheart, this is a—”
You look at it. “Triquetra.”
“Know what it means?”
“Father, Son, Holy Spirit.”
“Yes, that’s the Catholic definition.”
You take a deep breath. “Earth, sea and sky?”
“Well, that would be the pagans,” he smiles gently. “But this is a promise ring. It means you are exclusively seeing someone who loves, honors and protects you.”
“Not obey?” you joke tearfully.
He laughs. “Oh, that’s an entirely different ring!” He kisses your ring. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together, alright?”
You look up at him hopefully. You’ve never felt so vulnerable, so wonderful, thrilled and scared.
“Come here,” he purrs, closing his arms around you. You put your head on his chest and listen to the strong and steady beat of his heart. You close your eyes. “Now, what did the doctor say?”
“Going forward we should be careful after 8 weeks.”
“Eight?!” he repeats.
“Yeah.”
He takes a deep breath and sighs, “Alright.”
“What if—”
“Let’s wait and see, alright?” he says, looking down at you.  “Whatever it is, we’ll face head on.”
You cuddle by the firelight and watch random movies, much like last weekend-plenty of kisses and hugs, but no sex. You try to be understanding, realizing that abstinence or protected sex would be the way to go until the follow up, but you miss how he feels, and at a time like this, his touch would be the ultimate comfort. He took it easy on you when you dueled and introduced archery instead, something he promised he would do, but there were mixed messages all around. Was he not touching you because he didn’t want to-because now you represented a possible change in life? Was he not touching you because you are now precious and fragile, and he wants to be sure his seed stays intact? Was he being nice until he knew for sure and planned on making you his latest liaison?
During the weekend you kept looking at the ring. He gave it to you, didn’t he?
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After he falls asleep Saturday night, you lay awake. You inhale the scent of his arm, which is draped over you. You run your cheek along it, kiss his hand and close your eyes to sharpen your other senses since your sight doesn’t come into play.
Then he stirs.
You gasp softly as he turns you onto your back, and kisses you tenderly. You release a whispered cry of relief as your arms fold around him, welcoming him. Your heart aches for him. You rub your cheek against his stubbly one, and you are breathing hard. His body presses against you, his hips between your legs, his mouth at your throat, as your fingers stroke his back and neck. You want to say it, you want to, and you feel like a coward. You arch to him, tears coming to your eyes as your mouths finally meet and mate. He kisses them away.
He grinds against you and as you kiss, he unzips your hoodie and pushes it off your shoulders. You help him get his pullover and shirt off, and you return to each other’s kiss desperately. With one hand he unfastens and unzips his jeans to remove them, and before you can do it, he tugs successfully at your leggings, sliding them down your legs. You feel shy as the air feels cool between your legs, your panties already wet. He trails kisses up your legs, his fingers caressing you intimately and making you raise your hips and remove them. You spread yourself under him in offering, feeling emboldened by need, by vulnerability, by love.
He crawls over you slowly and kicks his underwear off. You hear the telltale sound of ripping packaging and feel him shift his weight. He kisses you deeply as he gently moves inside you and begins to move. He still feels so good—his whole body, every sight, feel, and scent, his touch—close as before. He will not leave you, you believe it now.
Though you appreciate his making the adjustment, you wish you could feel him again. You know how much larger the tip can be than the shaft, how he surged and glided inside you so deeply and your body clasped him even as he seemed to widen and fill you. You could feel his main vein sometimes, throbbing as he controlled it, taking you both higher till you exploded together. It held him back, held you apart, and you found his embrace tighter, his kisses and touch more passionate.
“Love, honor, protect.” He whispers against your lips before gently kissing your ringed hand. He intertwines his fingers with yours.
“Love, honor, protect,” you whisper back. You lean up to kiss him holding him with your other hand. And no matter what, you would. Come what may.
Thanks for the support! Let me know if you want to be added to the list. I look forward to your comments! 
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fluffykitty1999-blog · 3 years ago
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Burned Chapter 21- Epilogue
"Can we go home yet?" Ed rasped, voice still hoarse but bordering on whiny from where he sat on the hospital cot, swinging his legs impatiently.
Mustang cocked an eyebrow. "Has the doctor cleared you yet?"
Ed said nothing.
"then you have your answer." Roy supplied helpfully. Still, secretly he was a bit relieved. If Edward was complaining, then he couldn't be too badly hurt.
A few moments later, a woman in a white coat strode into the room, looking far too cheerful for the late hour of the night it now was.
"Hello there, Edward." she beamed at him. "What seems to be the problem?"
"My commanding officer dragged me here and won't let me leave." Ed supplied, fixing Roy with a glare.
The doctor's eyes drifted to Roy, who sat, still in uniform and arms crossed, looking unimpressed. "He was caught in a house fire earlier tonight. Keeps insisting he's fine, but he's also a habitual liar about that sort of thing."
The doctor's eyes widened, and she scrutinized Ed more closely- looking at his dusty clothes and the singed ends of his hair and frowning.
"How long were you inside the fire? Any trouble breathing?"
"Uh... I was inside the whole time... No trouble breathing." Ed supplied lamely.
The doctor looked him up and down, eyes still wide. She turned to Mustang. "Was this the fire on fifth avenue?"
Roy nodded.
The doctor looked at Ed once again, a mix of horror and astonishment on her face. "That house burned to the ground. How on earth are you standing here?"
"It's a long story. I'm an alchemist." Ed said, not having the energy to explain it all. He lifted his sleeve to his mouth and coughed- a raspy, pained sound, like a broken motor trying to start with a wet rag wrapped around it.
Ed's sleeve came back sooty, and the doctor frowned.
"He's been coughing up that crap for the last hour." Roy supplied, trying to school his features, though his concern showed in his charcoal eyes as he looked at Ed worriedly. All that soot in the boy’s lungs couldn’t be healthy- hopefully it didn’t make him sick.
The doctor nodded, going for her stethoscope. "Right. I'm going to need to listen to your lungs- can you take off your shirt for me?"
Ed shrugged off his rather sullied red coat slowly- at first Roy mistook the boy's slowness for reluctance. But Ed paused for a brief moment in only his black sleeveless t-shirt, took a breath as though he were steeling himself, and grit his teeth before he was pulling his shirt over his head.
The banding of black and purple spread out in a macabre fashion- veins or purple, bands of it, really- peering around from the boy's back and wrapping around his lower abdomen, some of the bruising stopping just beneath his ribs.
The doctor carefully replaced her stethoscope around her neck, nodding to Edward. "On second though- first I should take a look at his. Are you in any pain right now?"
"I've had worse." Ed said simply.
The doctor nodded. "Can you lay on your stomach for me?"
Ed shifted, moving rather slowly- but he managed to lay on his belly. Roy carefully stood- wanting to get a better look at the extent of the boy's injuries. The bruising on the front of the boy's torso was nothing compared to his lower back. His lower back- nearly all of it- was a deep, deep purple- an impossibly large bruise- like the boy had been in some sort of car accident, or been struck by something impossibly large.
"Do you know what caused this, Ed?"
"Beam of wood." Ed said simply. "Fell on me."
"Can you rate your pain for me? On a scale of one to 10, with 10 being the worst you've ever felt and 1 being the least?"
"4. I'll sleep it off."
Roy exhaled through his nose- unsure whether to laugh at such an Edward-esque response or be alarmed.
The doctor nodded, the surprise slowly disappearing from her face as she saw Edward's automail arm. She allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. "You automail patients always have ridiculous pain tolerances." she said quietly, almost as though she were speaking to herself.
She gently felt along Ed's spine, fingers moving with an expert but gentle touch to make sure that everything was in place and no bones were broken.
"Everything seems alright there- can you lay on your back for me now?"
Ed grunted in reply and turned over, a slight wince tugging at his features for a moment before it disappeared.
"It must've been quite the beam that fell on you, Edward. I'll need to feel your belly and make sure there aren't any other injuries. Are your ribs hurting at all? Any trouble breathing?"
"Ribs are bruised. Not broken. I can breathe fine."
The doctor nodded, before she was carefully reaching down to start to feel Ed's abdomen. Ed recoiled violently her touch, looking rather betrayed.
Mustang sat up straighter in alarm when he heard the kid gasp, fearing some unseen injury.
 "Your hands are cold." Ed said, looking annoyed.
"I'm sorry, I forgot to warn you about that." the doctor rubbed her hands together to warm them, looking down at Ed "may I continue?"
Ed nodded, and she continued her exam without incident.
She continued on to listen to Ed's lungs with her stethoscope, before she nodded, as though satisfied with her exam.
"Can I go home yet?" Ed asked, rather tired of the whole ordeal.
"In a moment. I'd like to speak to you" she nodded to Roy "outside briefly.".
Roy nodded, and he and the doctor stepped out of the room together, closing the door behind them.
"How is he?" Roy asked, not wasting any time. He knew Ed was good at hiding injury.
"Considering the situation he's been through- remarkable. Anyone else would be dead. That little girl in the other room came from the same fire and didn't have a scratch on her- it's amazing."
Roy nodded. "Edward is a very skilled alchemist. I have some idea of the rough deconstructions he used to partially stall the fire and protect them. But he neglected to mention a beam of wood falling on him." Roy could hardly keep the annoyance from his voice at the last part.
"That's the worst of his injuries, to be honest. He's certainly sore- the bruising is severe, but from my exam I'm confident nothing is broken. His back is, in less clinical terms, bruised to hell, and he'll certainly be sore for a week or so- but that's the worst of it. Normally, my first worry would be smoke inhalation- his lungs did sound irritated, but I didn't hear any fluid or sounds suggesting further injury. My next major concern would be internal bleeding from the trauma of the beam falling on him."
Roy nodded. "Will you be doing any scans or x-rays?"
"I don't think it's necessary. I can say with certainty that no bones are broken- they were all intact on examination. And I honestly don't think a scan would be necessary- with the kind of trauma we're worried about, there would be obvious clinical signs of internal bleeding, like a swollen belly full of blood. He looked right as rain when I examined him- I honestly believe he's just severely bruised."
"So he's alright? He's still coughing up soot." Roy admitted, looking to the doctor for assurance.
"Yes. To be honest, that's to be expected- better for him to get it coughed out than have it stay in his lungs- if it does, it might cause pneumonia. I'm going to write a script for some medicine- an expectorant- to make it easier for him to cough all that up. It'll also be easier for him if he drinks lots of water. And- I'll be writing a script for some cream as well. It's a gel that helps alleviate pain from bruises on his back to help him rest easier. I'll have the pharmacy fill them for you in a few minutes."
"So I can take him home tonight?"
"Yes, I don't see why not. He should be kept warm and quiet for the next few days- in bed and resting. He'll be sore for a week or so, but nothing that will last too long."
"He'll be glad to hear that."
The door behind them opened, and Ed- clad in his shirt and coat again- peered out at Roy, looking rather irritated and tired. "Can we go yet?"
"Go lay down." Roy said simply.
Ed fixed him with a withering stare.
"I'm sorting out some medicine you'll need from the kind doctor here. Once we have that we can go. Now lay down. The sooner I get this squared away the sooner we go."
Ed nodded, still looking rather irritated, and shut the door behind him.
Roy sighed. "Sorry about that. Edward dislikes hospitals immensely."
"I can see why. He does spend a fail bit of time in them. I like to read the medical records of my patients before I see him- he has a file like a phone book." the doctor was smiling, though. Ed had that charm about him. "I'll go write up the medicine for your charge, Mr.... ?"
"Mustang. But you can call me Roy." suddenly Roy was aware that it was well after midnight, he was covered in grime and dirt, and in front of a rather beautiful young doctor. He ran a hand through his dusty hair, trying to smooth it, and the doctor smiled.
"Well, Roy- that certainly is some young alchemist you have on your hands. I'll go gather up that medicine for you."
And she was gone.
Roy was about to go back into the exam room and give Ed the verdict when the sound of running feet stopped him.
"Roy! Hey, Roy!"
Roy turned to see an equally filthy and bedraggled looking Hughes trotting over, though the man was much more cheery than he was at this late hour.
"Hughes. How's Elicia?"
"Incredibly cute. That's all the doctors could say. Not a scratch on her. But the doctors have given her princess bandaids anyways because she's so cute, and it's adorable and I have photos but I haven't been able to develop the film yet." Hughes smiled, holding up his trusty camera.
"That's good." Roy ran another hand through his hair.
Hughes smiled. "How's yours doing?"
"Bruised and cranky. But he'll live. They're writing up some medicine to help him cough up the crap he inhaled and some cream for the bruises and then we're out of here. They want him to rest for about a week."
"Knowing him, he'll be up and about in two days." Hughes said with a grin.
"Not if I have anything to say about it. Doctors orders. Lord knows I have enough trouble wrangling the kid into the hospital when he is hurt- if I let him make himself worse then we're both screwed." still, Roy couldn't shake the slightly fond note from his voice.
"Are you and Gracia alright?"
Hughes nodded. "We've already made arrangements to stay with her mother across town. We'll figure something out. It's no big deal, really- a house is a house- things can be bought. Edward and Elicia are the only things that can't be replaced. Although-" Hughes frowned slightly "I lost all of Elicia's baby pictures. But it's okay. I'll take more photos of her."
Roy nodded. A nurse came over with a small white bag of medicines for Roy, and the two said their goodbyes.
Roy headed back into the exam room to find Ed laying on the exam table, half asleep.
"Ready to go, shortstack?"
"Finally." Ed swung his legs over the side of the table, brows furrowed in annoyance. "And don't call me short."
The kid really must've been tired. He hadn't even yelled.
Edward spent that night and most of the next day sleeping. It was comforting to see the boy resting, but unnerving that he was willing to do so without complaint. In Roy's mind, it only solidified that the boy's body needed to do more healing than it let on. He dutifully woke his annoyed blonde teenage alchemist to give him some of that medicine- an expectorant, the doctors had called it- to help him cough up whatever soot he'd inhaled.
Edward insisted his back was fine, but he was sleeping on his stomach, which informed Roy that the boy was lying. While he was asleep, Roy managed to smear some of the pain relieving cream onto the boy's back, and he seemed to rest easier after that.
On the third day of bedrest, however, Ed had decided he'd had enough.
Roy found him in the kitchen downstairs, trying to make scrambled eggs.
"You shouldn't be up."
"I was hungry."
"You could've called. I'd have brought you something."
"Mustang, as much as I like having you as my loyal manservant, there's some things a guy has to do by himself." Ed paused, stopping where he was using a spatula to stir his eggs and coughing, spitting a mouthful of soot into a nearby coffee mug he'd been using for an impromptu spittoon. Roy cringed, taking the mug from the boy and dumping it down the sink.
"Bed." he pointed upstairs.
"But my eggs!"
"I'll cook them and bring them up to you. You're still coughing up soot. The doctors said rest for a week."
"But I'm not tired!"
"Then read. Al has brought you plenty of research from the library. And I've got him working on a project for me as well."
"But I'm bored!"
"I have a project you can help me with too. But I'm not going to tell you what it is unless you go. Rest." Roy hadn’t stopped pointing with one hand, as he took the spatula with the other and kept cooking the eggs.
Ed was a mixture of grumpy and intrigued as he stomped upstairs and climbed back into his bed.
A few minutes later, Roy came upstairs with a plate of scrambled eggs, which Ed eagerly devoured.
"So- what's this project you want my help with anyways?" Ed asked between mouthfuls of food.
"Actually, it's the same one Al is helping me with. He should be back with the materials soon."
They fell silent, the only sounds for a few moments Ed demolishing his eggs.
Roy simply watched him. "Were you scared?"
Ed looked up, golden eyes questioning.
"In the fire. After everything you've been through, being trapped in a fire is probably the last thing you'd need. I was frightened watching it. Knowing you were trapped in there and I couldn't get to you." Roy admitted.
Ed nodded, setting down his fork. "Yeah. I was scared. But Elicia- she was talking. crying, actually- and I realized I couldn't fall apart. I tried to breathe deep, even though there wasn't a lot of air, and I just had to keep going. So i got us downstairs in the flooded bathtub, and then I put us underground. And I just waited. Elicia was really scared, and so was I, but I just tried to be like you, when you calmed me down before, and it seemed to work out alright. I should've been more scared, towards the end- I was too tired to use my alchemy to get us out from underground. But I wasn't, because I knew you'd find us- I wasn't on my own anymore."
Roy nodded, looking pensive for a moment. He looked up, meeting Edward's eyes.
"I'm proud of you, Edward."
The door opened downstairs, and large, hollow footsteps let them know that Alphonse was home and climbing the stairs.
"I got the materials you asked for, Colonel. It took awhile- there was a lot more than we thought, I talked to nearly everyone in Hughes's office." Alphonse set down a rather large box on the floor, and a shopping bag beside it.
"This is that project you guys were talking about?" Ed sat forward in bed, looking interested.
Roy nodded. "Hughes mentioned all his photo albums of Elicia's baby pictures were lost in the fire." he said seriously.
"But luckily the Colonel knew that Hughes has shown people so many pictures and given them away that there were a lot out there. We just had to gather them up from everyone who's gotten some. Including us, brother-" Alphonse held up a few photographs.
"So I just need your help sorting them out and putting the album together." Roy opened the shopping bag, pulling out a large red photo album with gold trim.
"Sounds easy enough." Ed sat up in bed, and Alphonse moved to open the large box of photos, which they started to spread out on the bed.
One hour turned into four like nothing- there were little pictures, of Elicia when she had just been born, wrapped in a blanket, and cute pictures of her in a ladybug outfit and various baby clothes as she grew up. They decided to order the album chronologically- starting with the youngest pictures and moving to the oldest. It was fun to see not only Elicia, but also themselves grow- there was a picture of Ed holding Elciia as a newborn- he'd only been 12 at the time- and one of a toddler Elicia chewing on Al's gauntlets, and pulling Roy's hair. In one photo, Elicia was clinging to Roy's leg while he did paperwork in his office, green eyes impossibly big as she gummed on the very end of Roy's pantleg. She'd been teething.
It was also fun to see themselves in the background. In one of the pictures, Elicia crawled on the carpet of Roy's office, reaching towards the camera, while in the background, Ed had just thrown a chair at Mustang- the chair was mid-flight towards Mustang, who was making hasty retreat after calling Ed short.
The door downstairs opened. "Anybody home?" Hughes voice drifted upstairs, and the man himself followed, holding something steaming in his hands.
"Hey guys! Ed, I see you're resting up nicely." Hughes smiled, holding the steaming pan in his hands higher. "Elicia's resting at home with Gracia too, but they wanted me to bring you this apple pie!"
"That's great, Hughes." Roy said, looking up from the snapshot in his hand.
"We have something for you too." Ed said, holding up the closed and finished book in his hands.
"What's this?" Hughes set the pie on the dresser and stepped closer, taking the book from Ed and opening it.
When he saw what was on the first page, he gasped, turning to the next, and then the next, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
When he looked up, a few tears were on his cheeks. "This is amazing! I thought I lost all her baby pictures in the fire." he breathed, lips trembling.
"You did. But luckily you were always giving the spares and extra photos to anyone who'd listen." Roy admitted calmly, smiling.
"It was the colonel's idea." Alphonse said, nodding. "We just gathered them from the people you'd given them too and arranged them".
"It's perfect." Hughes set the album on the bed with shaking hands and pulled Ed and Roy into a hug with one arm, reaching for Alphonse with the other.
"You guys are the best!"
"We know. Now quit with the mushy stuff already and let's eat some pie!" Ed exclaimed.
Done! One big, happy ending!
But I'm not finished writing FMA fanfiction. I'm think of doing more Ed angst and whumph in the future- mainly, a fic where Ed has to go into a warzone when war breaks out and fight. And looses his innocence along the way. Or another idea I've been toying with is Ed gets put in a dangerous position by a military officer superior to Mustang and holds his ground and loyalty. These are just ideas I'm playing with right now. Let me know what you think!
And as always- if you enjoyed this story, if you’d spare even $3 for the coffee fund, it would make my week! :)
https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12
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henryobsessed · 4 years ago
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The Borrower and Her Bean - Part 13
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Summery: Kal is hungry, but Henry has to meet the family before they can get him help.
Word Count: 1200
Part 12 - Part 14
Greg could not understand how Melina slept in her room. For the last week, he and Carson had been sleeping in her shelter near the vent to prevent Henry from talking to her. They had covered the hole with material to prevent him and the light from waking them up too early. However, they were not been able to silence the bird that seemed to like to sing right outside the vent. Groaning he rolled over and put his pillow over his head, but it was no use he was awake now. Sitting up he looked over at Carson. His brother was sleeping on his stomach, one foot hanging over the edge of the bed along with his arm, snoring away. How can he sleep through all that noise, was the thought that ran through Greg's mind? Shaking his head he moved out of the room in search of food.
Walking into their little kitchen he noticed his mother pottering around making breakfast. Each action was familiar to him as she broke a bit of cheese off the large triangle that sat in the corner of the room. She bought it to the table and sliced it into small pieces to add to the fruit and large crumbs of bread on the table. However today her actions were not as direct, not as bubbly as if she was thinking about something else other than what she was doing. Taking a seat at the table he asked: "Are you, ok Mum?" she turned from pouring juice into their thimble cups her bottom lip quivering. "Your sister went out borrowing and hasn't returned. Dads checking the other houses first as she wouldn't have gone into his house. I'm worried, it's not like her to be gone this long." Greg tried to think when he last spoke to her, it had been just after sundown yesterday, an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach.
By mid-morning Dad had returned and the whole family was now meeting in the kitchen. All worried they realised that she must have gone into Henry's house. Greg was beginning to worry that they had trusted the bean too soon. What if he had captured her and refused to let her go? what if in his anger he had hurt her. Panic was setting in for all the families as they began to put together a rescue outfit. Greg and Carson along with the Pam, Elisha and their Mum and Dad's were all meetings now in their kitchen debating fleeing as was the borrower way or going to rescue Melina. Both the Dad's were having a heated argument when there was a voice from the doorway. Turning Greg breathed a sigh of relief then astonishment as he saw Melina with Henry standing awkwardly behind her. His hands were placed on her shoulders as if he needed the added courage.
All Borrowers staired not a sound could be heard but for the birds singing outside as Melina and Henry walked into the already crowded room. Greg watched Lina who looked excited compared to the flustered look on Henry's face "Great you're all here, I know this might be a bit of a surprise and I know you will have lots of questions but we need your help first before we can answer them." the silence continued in the room as a sign they were listening but the furrowed look on her fathers face alerted her that she needed to speak quickly. Taking a large breath the spoke "Last night Henry rescued me, it's a long story but let's say I made a big mistake and he helped me out of a near-death situation. Something happened whilst I was unconscious and I woke up next to the Henry you now see. The problem we have is now we have to work out how to look after Kal with us being this size. He needs to be fed, so first, we need help getting to Henry's phone so he can contact his puppy sitter. Then we need to work out how his being this size will not only affect him but us as well."
Thankfully they were already set with their climbing gear so the now 10 person party headed out into the wall cavity leading out into the living room. Once they found the whole they unblocked it and one by one they walked into the open space. Henry could see Kal who was now lying next to his food bowl head down whimpering. His mate was needing his help and he hoped this would work. Once they were at the table Elisha's dad used his grappling hook shoestring set up and tossed it effortlessly up to the top of the table. The hook slid until it seemed to catch on the ornate etching on the table. Then Melina's dad followed together they Climbed to the top and secured the rope. Together they climbed until all 10 stood looking at the flat communication device.
The teens had already seen it in action however the adults had not so it fascinated them when Henry hit the side button and the screen lit up. One problem that he first encountered was it would not recognise his face or fingerprint as both were too small. Then he had to remember his pin which he had not had to use in a very long time. Thankfully the iPhone recognised the touch of his hands. Once the phone opened the last hurdle was the battery life which was sitting at 15%. He quickly opened messenger and looked at the keyboard it was going to take him ages to type this, "Lina can you help me, I will call out the letter and you need to touch it." she nodded in agreement and together they made quick work of sending the message ' had to rush out to an emergency, Kal needs food, also I know this is a strange request but could you put the fresh fruit, meat slices and cheese on the counter? I know this is short notice but I would really appreciate the help thanks sandy ..... Hen."
They waited with bated breath, then "..." three dots appeared, after a moment the message followed "sure thing Hen, you sure about the food, that can attract mice. anyway no worries be there in 5." as he typed "Thanks" and hit send the screen dimmed and then went out. Seeing the worry on Henry's face as he looked back down at the phone Melina said, softy "don't worry, we can hoist the phone down then the men can help you carry it to the charger." At that point, Henry breathed a sigh of relief grateful also that his charger was at floor level. After 20min, the group had managed to move the phone off the table hoisting it down using the ropes. Then they all followed. As they were walking the phone towards the charger they heard keys in the door. The borrowers froze then ran for cover all except for Henry who was desperately trying to move the phone under the side table. Melina called out to him but he would not listen as the door swung opened. Seeing he would not listen Melina ran to the stubborn fool "Henry we have to hide."
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jawabear · 4 years ago
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Stay (Elliot Alderson x Reader)
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Not my GIF
A/N: So, here is my Elliot fic. You don’t necessarily have to have watched Mr Robot to read this because I didn’t add any other characters or specifics into it. But I hope you enjoy reading it. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Warnings: mentions of death, fire, sad Elliot but what else is new, a whole load of angst
Summary: Elliot doesn’t know what is real anymore...
What a way to find out. 
Elliot was never one to really watch the news on tv. He didn’t like to watch tv in general but something had stirred him to turn it on. He wished he hadn’t. 
“-A large fire broke out, the cause is yet unknown. Thankfully, no one has been reported dead. The building has been cleared of people while the fire department tries to contain it so it doesn’t spread to surrounding buildings. It is unclear how many have been injured but there have been reported of at least 17 casualties...” 
The rest of the report seemed to blur in his ear, the only thing that was in focus was the image of the familiar building that had been engulfed in flames.
No no no. This can’t be happening.
He fumbled to grab his phone, sliding quickly through his contacts to her name and slamming his finger down on it. The phone rang. And it rang and it rang. Each dull beep seemed to drag longer and longer. He tried again. His vision becoming blurry as did each dull beep. Everything was clouding in his mind. 
No. She’s...she can’t be. She’s fine. She’s...she's fine.
But there was a part of him that knew she wasn’t. It was that same part that had told him to switch the tv on. He knew. She was one of those 17 listed casualties. She was a fucking number to them. As she would’ve been if she had died. Just a number. A statistic for news reported to tell everyone about. No one cared about who she was. She was a number, one less contribution to society.
But to him she was everything. What was the point of even being alive if he didn’t have her to live with? She wasn’t just a number. She was a person. She was his person. His life. His love. 
He didn’t even bother to turn off the tv. He had to find her. He had to know she was alive. He paid no attention to the way people stared at him as he sprinted to the subway. He didn’t care about them. They were all numbers the same as she was said to be. No one cared about them so why should he? Why should he give a shit about why they were staring at him? He cared about one person, and she needed him.
Elliot didn’t quite know how exactly he ended up at the hospital so quickly. He remembered waiting for his train and then suddenly he was outside the hospital doors. He had obviously got there the same time as the victims from the fire. 
New York traffic. Fuck you.
But he counted less than 17, only 13. Perhaps some had gotten in sooner. He ran into the hospital, he could hear beeping left and right, the panicked voices of doctors and nurses as they tried to give quick examinations of each patient who was wheeled in. He could hear the unmistakable moans and scream of pain. Clearly, severe injuries had been sustained. But the news wouldn’t report on that. No. All they would talk about is how much money it would cost to rebuild the apartment complex. That’s all it was about. Money. Not the pain that these people felt. The scars both mentally and physically they would keep forever. 
More money though. They would have to pay to have those scars fixed. Pay to talk to someone who doesn’t want to listen to their problems. Someone who will just repeat their words back and make it seem like they are making a difference. All for a paycheck at the end of the week. 
Elliot wouldn’t do that. He knew what it was like to have mental scars. He had enough of them. And she would stay up with him while he spoke to her about it. And she would kiss him, touch him, listen to him. She would do anything he needed her to do. And he was prepared to do the same for her. 
He made his way to the front desk where a receptionist sat. She didn’t look all that kind. She looked angry. Probably because she now had to work over time in calling all the patients’ emergency contacts to inform them that someone they know was in a fire accident. 
“Excuse me,” Elliot said quickly. She glared at him, he didn’t shy away though, he had more important things to worry about then the harsh stare of a receptionist “My g-“ he stopped himself from breaking down into tears “my girlfriend...she was...she was in the fire. Is she okay? Where is she? I need to see her” 
“Name?” She asked in an almost bored tone.
People are screaming in pain, they’ve just been through horrific trauma and that’s how you talk to someone who’s clearly in a state of panic? They could be dying and all you’re worried about it not getting home earlier enough to watch reruns of the same shitty shows just to get you through the week.
“Name?” She asked again. Clearly Elliot had blanked a little.
“(Y-Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)” He said clearly. He was choking back the anger that swarmed his body, he wasn’t going to make a scene, not in a place like this. 
He heard the clicking of keys as she typed her name into the system, then cross-referencing the name on a pad of paper with scribbled letters, which he guessed were names, on it. 
“You’ll have to take a seat and wait” she sighed.
“Wh-What?” 
“A seat? Take one. We have to make sure everyone is secure before we allow visitors. Someone will be with you shortly” 
Shortly. That’ll be the day.
Elliot gulped and nodded and went to take a seat in the corner of the waiting room. Whilst he waited, more and more people came bounding into the hospital, clearly they had heard the news. They cared for their loved ones as much as Elliot cared for her. And they were all told the same thing. To take a seat and wait. 
He could hear the soft cries from mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, girlfriends, wives, husbands, boyfriends, and damn kids were sitting there waiting. But Elliot didn’t cry. He felt he should’ve. He must’ve looked strange. Sat in the corner of a hospital waiting room with a bunch of grieving people and he showed no inch of emotion. 
Instead, he pulled out his phone. He opened his photos, he didn’t have all that many, the majority he did have she had taken herself, once she had sent to him or when she had taken his phone just to take pictures with. He clicked on the most recent one. Of course, it was of her. She had sent it to him that morning. Her outfit for the day. It was cute. The colder weather was starting to creep in so she had wrapped up warm. She wore black leggings with brown ankle boots. A long brown coat and probably a hoodie under that. And she wore a scarf, the one he had bought her for her birthday a few years ago. It was white with black lines. She adored it. 
He couldn’t tell her how much he loved it. He didn’t have the words. She looked amazing in anything. All he could say was ‘you look nice’. Now, he would have laughed at the reply. 
You look nice. That’s it? That’s what you’re leaving her with? 
The guilt started to fill his mind. Forming a lump in the back of his throat that he desperately tried to swallow down. He hovered his thumb over her face, wanting desperately to stroke her cheek again, to see her smile as he did.
It had to have been at least two hours until names of victims started to be called. One by one, families were taken to their loved ones. And Elliot waited on. Each name only filled him with more and more dread and anxiety. 
The first one there, and the last one called.
He jumped up when her name was called, quickly following after the doctor who led him to her bed. He thanked him with a nod and the doctor left them alone. 
Elliot hated the beeping that came from the heart monitor she was attached to. He hated seeing all the wires that were stuck into her precious body. What monster would want to stab into her soft skin like that?
“E-Elliot?” She stuttered as she turned her head to face him. He was quickly at her side, taking her shaking hand in his which were just as shaky, but he guessed for a different reason. 
“I’m here” he assured her quietly with a nod “I’m here (Y/N)” 
“I’m so glad you’re here” her voice was hoarse and weak, she had probably inhaled a lot of smoke back there. He wasn’t surprised. He noticed how her eyes were red and her face had black marks of soot on it, dirtying her beautiful face.
“Me too (Y/N). But just rest, okay?” He told her softly as he sat in the chair beside her bed “save your energy” 
“You’ll stay?” She asked him.
“Yeah” he nodded “of course, I’m not ever leaving you” 
“Don’t cry” he hadn’t realised he was crying. How long had he been crying for? He quickly wiped away his tears “talk to me Elliot” 
He didn’t know what she wanted him to say. Was she just looking for a reason to stay awake? Did she want him to talk her to sleep? Or did she want him to tell her what he was thinking? How scared he felt wondering if she would make it or not.
“I love you” he settled with, his voice becoming shaky as the tears now seemed to fall in their own accord no matter how many times he told them to stop. “You’re my everything. I don’t...I don’t know what I’d do without you”
“You won’t ever be without me, my love” she smiled gently at him “no matter what, I’ll always be with you, for as long as you need me”
“I’ll always need you. I can’t live without you. But you need your sleep. Rest. I’ll be right here, I promise” he pressed a long kiss to her hand. 
“I love you Elliot, you made my life a happier place, you’ve made me a happier person. I’m so grateful to have known you” 
“I love you too, (Y/N). More than I love anything” it wasn’t all that much longer until she had fallen asleep. His eyes felt heavy but he didn’t want to give in. He had to be awake for her. What if she needed something and he was too busy sleeping to help her? What if something went wrong? What if someone came in and he wasn’t able to protect her? 
Regretfully, he had been taken by the sweet lure of sleep. His hand was still attached to hers, he couldn’t let her go, he wouldn’t let her go. He was going to hold her hand for every second of his life. He wasn’t never going to allow her to slip away from him.
But she did. 
The beeping had stopped it’s annoying pattern, and had changed into one continuous beep. He lifted his head and saw the flat green line. He panicked as he slammed his hand against the assistance button over and over again, desperately saying her name while shaking her, trying to get her to wake up. But she didn’t.
And when the nurses and doctors came rushing into the room, they confirmed the worst.
She was gone.
The next few days, he didn’t have much memory of it. He remembers crying, a lot. He was in and out of consciousness a lot. He didn’t go to work. He couldn’t even get out of bed. He didn’t eat anything, he didn’t drink anything. He was glad he wasn’t the one who had to tell her parents the news, they came to visit him. He felt so incredibly selfish, that he was there in her final moments and her own parents weren’t. He apologised to them and they didn’t accept, they said he had nothing to be sorry for.
“She wasn’t alone, that’s all that matters. You made sure someone was there for her right until the end” her mother had told him. “All we can do is thank you for loving our little girl as much as you did” 
He did love her. So much. And her last words to him were telling him how much she loved him. And he said how much he loved her. 
Her funeral was the day after. It was a Saturday. It was rather sunny considering it was November. It wasn’t hot by any means, but it wasn’t raining or cloudy. It was...kind of perfect. He knew she would love it. She was more fond of the cold than the hot, that’s something they had in common.
Elliot didn’t have the strength to stay for long. He knew he should’ve but he just couldn’t. How could he? His source of his strength was lying dead in the ground. He didn’t want to stay there any longer.
Sleeping didn’t come naturally to him after that, not that it ever did in the first place. His anxieties only got worse. The little sleep he did get was not worth it. All it was was a nightmare, one continuous nightmare from which he could not escape.
Elliot didn’t know what had stirred him from his sleep this time. Once again, he had been drifting in and out of consciousness. Maybe it was his anxiety again, maybe it was his body finally starting to protect him from the hellish realm of his brain. But he didn’t hold out much hope for the latter to be true. His room felt cold. His windows were frosted. He would breath and he would see it cloud in front of him before disappearing. But he didn’t feel cold. He wasn’t wearing much, all he was wearing was a pair of boxers, only his bottom half being covered by his semi-thick blanket. And there was a strange atmosphere in his room. 
He wasn’t alone, he could feel someone else was there, but he didn’t know who. There was a greyish-blue hue in his room, like the streetlights that were usually a muted orange had changed colour to fit with the cold weather of winter. He kind of liked it. It was a calming colour to him, not like the orange that signified happiness in his mind when there was none. This greyish-blue was a neutral colour and it suited him well.
But he still had no answers as to why he had woken up, and why he was in this strange reality of his room. It was his room, yes, but everything seemed off. It seemed different. He wanted to know where he was.
“Elliot?” Came an echoed voice from the foot of his bed. It was mixed, a combination of so many different voices from his friends or family or his enemies, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly who it was, and they were blurry in front of him. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes to clear his vision but it didn’t work, he would have to wait.
His brain was trying to figure out who to send to him. Which person from his life was he to be presented with? Or tortured with? He watched as the shape of a person morphed around, he could vaguely work out the shape of a few before they changed into someone else. 
And the person slowly began to form. 
“Elliot?” They said again. This time, their voice was clearer, he could pick out who it was. His brain had been cruel to him tonight. But he was blinded by his feelings to realise it was all a trick. 
“(Y/N)...” he breathed. 
There she stood. Her soft hair hanging loosely from her head, her eyes big, bright and (E/C). She wasn’t wearing much, it looked like she only wore a pair of panties and one of his dark grey shirts. She always had a thing for wearing his clothes, but he didn’t mind, it would smell like her, bringing him peace if ever he wore it again. 
“You must be cold” he whispered to her. His body was stuck in place. He wanted to reach out and grab her, pull her into bed with him and hold her against him forever, but he couldn’t move. But luckily she moved to him instead. 
“So must you” she crawled onto his bed, practically sitting on his lap, her warm hands coming to rest on his bare arms, rubbing up and down slowly to warm him. He noticed her smiled softly and her eyes met his “You’re warm” she commented quietly “you’re always warm” 
“(Y/N)” He choked out again. She shushed him softly and lifted her hand to carefully brush one of his dark curls from his forehead. Her hand then dropped to his cheek, she ran her thumb over it lightly. He leaned into her touch, desperately wanting to close his eyes to just enjoy the feeling again but he didn’t dare do that, if he closed his eyes, there was a chance she would disappear forever. 
“You’re so beautiful, Elliot” she whispered as her eyes scanned over his face, his eyes were glued to hers though. He didn’t want to miss a single opportunity to stare into them like he used to. “You haven’t changed at all. I can still see that look of fear and uncertainty in your eyes” she told him, her eyes meeting his again. “What are you afraid of, my love?”
My love.
Those words burned into his brain as she said them. His throat tightened, like he was being strangled, and his heart clenched in his chest. All knowledge of words had disappeared from his mind, the only ones remaining were those two words she had said. 
“Are you scared of the world?” She asked him. He opened his mouth to try to formulate some sort of sentence but nothing came out, not even a sound. It was as if he had been completely silenced, his ability to speak had been ripped from him. “Are you scared of people? Of society? Of how they see you, what they think about you?” Again, he could say nothing. His body was locking up, shutting down almost. He couldn’t even shake his head ‘no’ as an answer to her questions. “Are you scared of...the voices in your head?” She rested her hands either side of his head, he was still frozen. But he managed to gulp and that was enough of an answer for her. “You don’t need to be scared of them, Elliot” she told him “they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them” 
“But-“ he stopped himself suddenly, trying to come to terms with the fact he was now allowed to speak again “you’re not even here...” he muttered sadly. 
“I’ve never left you, Elliot” she assured him “I’ve always been in here” she brought her forehead down to rest on his. He let out a shaky breath at the contact, he felt like he was connecting with her or something. Like all their memories were being channeled into his mind, trying to push out all the negative emotions in there. 
“How do I...how do I know I can believe you?” He questioned slowly. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he also needed to know that she wasn’t going to hurt him. 
“Do you trust me?” She asked him. He managed a nod “then believe my words. I would never do anything to hurt you” she shifted on his lap and his hands quickly flew to her hips thinking she was going to leave him, he wasn’t ready for that. 
“Don’t go” he begged quietly “please...”
“I’m not going anywhere” she leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his, finally, in a gentle kiss. It re-started that fire that had been out for so long within him. He had greatly missed the feeling of that love inside him, the feeling that her lips gave him. “I love you, Elliot” 
“I’ve...I’ve always loved you” He scrunched up his nose and looked down, he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes “I let you down...I wasn’t...I should’ve tried harder to help you...save you. I’m so sorry...” 
She lifted his chin and wiped away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks “it’s okay, my love” she smiled “you could never let me down. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to me. You don’t ever need to say that you are sorry to me” his arms slipped around her and he buried his head into her neck and cried against her. He hadn’t meant to, he wanted to stay composed, but he couldn’t hold it in, the weight was becoming too much to bear. He had to let it all out. And he did. He cried, and he cried, until what felt like he couldn’t cry anymore. 
He fell back onto the bed, bringing her with him, but she didn’t try and leave, if anything, she pulled him closer. Her fingers were gliding through his soft hair, soothing him, calming him down from his crying. “I’ve been so alone...” he whimpered “so alone...” 
“I know” she whispered with a nod “I know you have, my love. But you don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m here, and I’m not leaving you” 
“Please” he begged again, louder this time “please don’t ever leave me, I don’t want to live without you anymore” 
Why did you have to be so cruel? 
Apparently he had fallen asleep again. But something felt odd when he was woken up again by his mind. Something he couldn’t quite place. Something that felt more...real.
Elliot felt disheartened as he stared up at his ceiling. He was lonely. He was cold. He hated himself, he hated his brain for projections such a cruel and horrible image into his mind while he slept. He hated that he felt happiness with it, with the dream of her.
But it was so real. He could feel the warmth of her hands on his face. He could hear the softness of her voice. He could see the stars in her eyes. She was really there. 
But she wasn’t there at all. It was all in his mind and he hated it. He wanted to hold her again, even if it was just for a moment, he needed to hold her again.
“Elliot?” He heard her voice again. It was clear, clearer than it had been in his dream. He sat up and looked to the foot of his bed where she was standing. He was even more confused now than he had been in his dream. Was he still dreaming? Or was he awake? Or maybe he had died...
“Elliot,” she began as she came and sat beside him on the bed. He just stared at her, he didn’t know whether to believe his eyes or not. His mind could still be playing tricks on him. “Are you okay? You were crying in your sleep” she said softly as she lifted her hand to rest against his forehead, he was a normal temperature.
“Y-You...b-but...” he struggled with words again. He didn’t know what to say. He was just so confused as to what the hell was happening. 
“What is it?” She asked him quietly, now turning her body to face him completely. She looked extremely concerned and worried for him. And he just looked confused.
“You’re-You’re Okay?” He breathed in disbelief.
She nodded, now it was her turn to be confused “yes, I’m okay” she whispered.
“You’re real?”
“Elliot, what’s going on?” She asked him “talk to me”
“I-I-“ he stuttered around for a second, trying to fathom a response for her without sounding crazy. But by now, she must’ve been used to crazy. Being Elliot’s girlfriend meant she had to be used to it, he was pretty used to it, “you...it was so real...you died...th-there was a fire...and-and the hospital...I feel asleep and you died...and-and I-I should’ve tried harder to save you. I failed you. But...y-you came back in a dream, and you t-told me I would never be alone again...but...I thought that was the dream. You were dead...for real...that was...was that all fake too?” He asked her. She felt her eyes water as she looked into his eyes, she brought her hands to rest on his cheeks.
“Yes,” she nodded “none of that is real. I’m here, I’m okay, I’m alive”
“H-How can I be sure?”
“Do you trust me?” He drew in a sharp breath as she said this. He nodded slowly and gulped “then trust my words”
“That’s what you said in my dream” he told her.
“Did you believe me then?”
“Yes”
“Then believe me now, my love. This is happening, this is real. We are here in the world at this time together. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here”
He grabbed her wrist in his hand as he leaned into her touch “stay with me”
“Of course” she smiled before leaning in to press a kiss to his quivering lips.
Masterlist
21/07/20
114 notes · View notes
perriewinklenerdie · 5 years ago
Text
Be honest with me (Ethan Ramsey x MC)
Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC
Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! Guess who's back? Back from dead? Just kidding, I'm still dead. My brain hurts so much, but I needed a break or I would go crazy. I started writing it a few days back and just now got the inspiration to finish it, so here we are.
Also, guess who got totally addicted to Endless Summer (thanks, K. K., I know, I was stupid, you can taunt me with it any time you want, hun :D <3) and Jake is basically my husband now
AO3 link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495037
Enjoy! <3
Tag list:   @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352 , @aloehasrose , @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie,@choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @yesimacerealkiller, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h
----------
“Give me all the food I can get.” She stated as she sat down by the table, the music playing in the bar blending with her words a little. Sienna pushed pizza her way, grinning as Bryce tried to grab a slice.
“Ah, ah, ah. No more pizza for you. She had a long day, she earned it.” she shook her head, swatting his hand to the side. His face twisted in mock pain, sliding away from her.
“Herondale likes me, so one slice won’t be a problem, right?” he asked, pleading her with his eyes, to which she laughed, biting into the first slice, indicating a ‘no’ with her movements.
“Nof a shanse.” She spoke with her mouth full, letting the conversation around her resume.
They had a long day behind them. A massive accident, lots of victims and lots of work. Their hands were full of people in pain and in despair. It was only normal for them to go out, despite being tired, on the verge of falling asleep, even if only to eat and have one drink. It was getting late and they were beginning to lean on each other, laughing with last bits of their energy. Claire’s phone screen lit up before an incoming call flashed across it. She grabbed it, swiping her finger to take it, excusing herself from her company.
“Hello?” she muttered, yawning, rubbing her fingers over her closed eyes, trying to stay awake. She was met with a long moment of silence, nothing could be heard, and she was about to hang up, when she heard the softest sound.
“Claire?” a voice on the other end slurred, most definitely drunk and tired. She didn’t have time to look at the ID of the caller, but one word was enough to tell her that Ethan was on the other end of the conversation. Her heart sped up without her consent, her skin tingling at the sound of his voice.
“Ethan? Are you okay?” she asked, more sober and awake now, her senses tuned to him and what he was saying. He laughed, a sound of glass hitting the table in the background.
“I’m fine… I think… You know what, no- I’m not.” He stumbled over his thoughts, pausing a couple of times, most likely to take a sip of whatever alcohol drink he was having. “I miss you.”
“Ethan-“
“I love you, Claire. It’s just that… I don’t even know what… why do we… why do I have to restrain myself… damn me and my self-control.” he confessed, stunning her into silence. She listened as he continued to talk, not sure what to say or how to react.
She wasn’t sure when it occurred to her that he basically confessed his love for her. Maybe it was when he started speaking without any sense, maybe it was when he repeated it, at least five times. Her eyes got wide when through all the layers of tiredness, alcohol and fear the realization settled in. He said he loved her.
They weren’t together. They agreed to put a stop to this, almost two years now they’ve been walking the line with a wall between them. If she had to be completely honest, she wasn’t sure how she felt anymore. They were friends, that much she knew. Ethan was her person, her partner in crime, even if not literally, and she knew he considered her the same for him. Endless and countless nights, hung over piles upon piles of paperwork, patient charts, copious amounts of coffee and chocolate, falling asleep by the desk only to be woken up by the sound of the hospital being brought back to life after a long night. They always lingered a moment too long when they were separating, smiles were always just that much softer, gestures that much gentler.
He was a different person when he was with her, and he was beginning to admit it to himself. Deep inside he knew that he might never get over his feelings for her. During the day he managed to keep his raging emotions at bay, except for every single time he so much as saw her. In moments like those, his heartbeat would pick up, his face would get flushed and he would have to take a few deep breaths to calm down. It seemed ridiculous, the fact that no matter how much time has passed or will pass, he couldn’t become immune to her. She was like a disease that he couldn’t cure, or maybe he didn’t want to cure himself from her.
No matter the reason, here he was, calling her, drunk, and confessing his love for her. Claire was still as confused as she could possibly be, but he kept on talking, mumbling, taking long breaks before speaking again. In the meantime, she bid her friends goodbye, giving them some lame excuse about being tired and wanting to get some sleep. She continued to listen to him as she drove back to her apartment, as she opened the door, as she sat down on her bed with a cup of steaming tea.
“Ethan?” she asked when he stopped talking and remained silent for more than ten minutes. It was more than probable that he simply fell asleep or his phone fell from his hand and he was too unstable in his movements to pick it up.
Her line of thoughts was interrupted by a doorbell, cutting through the silence. Without even thinking about it, she moved to the hall to answer, thinking that it was her friends, simply too wasted to get their own keys. Door fell open and her breath got taken away. She’s never seen him this drunk or tired, he looked like he was running and he was soaked from the rain that started to fall from the sky as soon as she got home. His breathing was labored, shoulders slumped, his hair stuck to his head, falling onto his forehead. He was looking at her with that heavy gaze, his eyes shining brightly in the night, piercing through her from beneath his thick lashes, sending a spark through her.
“Claire-“ he took a hesitant step towards her, falling towards her, his arms wrapping loosely around her waist. She grabbed him tightly, preventing them both from falling. Pressing the door shut, she steered them towards her room, bumping into the doorframe once or twice, wincing in pain.
When she finally managed to get them steady, she took half a step back, just to see him looking at her already. There was something hidden in his eyes, something deep and intense, swirling there, catching the scarce light in the room. He lifted his hand to her cheeks, stroking her lips with his thumb, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“How I long to kiss you…” he whispered, his voice breaking , getting smaller and softer. He embraced her once more, burying his face in her hair, pressing a lingering kiss to her neck.
Claire stroked his hair in a soothing manner, unsure how to react. He was saying all the things she wanted to hear from him, but he was also drunk, so it was more than likely that he would not remember it the next day. He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent like it was all he needed to live, before leaning back, kissing her cheek and then forehead, his eyes falling shut.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed, you should get some sleep.” She muttered, pulling him by his hand, sitting him down and helping him lie down. He laced their fingers together, squeezing them tightly before he fell asleep.
She sat down by his side, covering him with a blanket, looking at him, deep in her thoughts. It must have been the most bizarre night of her life in the past few years. She wondered what caused that reaction, what prompted him to call her, what was the reason for him come here, to open up to her, to tell her everything without any inhibitions or hesitation. He seemed to be so sure, so determined to let her know that…
He loved her.
There was no way of knowing how aware he was that he told her that. Time would tell, in few hours he would wake up, see where he was and decide what to do next. Decide if he wanted to take that back, pretend it never happened, or if he wanted to own up to his feelings and act upon them.
Claire sat down on the loveseat, picking up another blanket and drifting off to dreamless sleep.
--- --- ---
The first thing she could feel the next morning was the soft breath, tickling her neck, and a pair of arms, wrapped securely around her. His scent reached her senses, overwhelming her immensely and she got even more confused. She also noticed that she was lying in her bed, covered by the same blanket she covered Ethan the night before. Her whole body became tense as she wasn’t sure what to make out of the situation she found herself in.
“I can feel you being awake, Rookie, you don’t fool me.” He muttered into her ear, his grip on her tightening. Her muscles relaxed a little, only slightly, when she didn’t hear even a hint of embarrassment or anger in his voice.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, refusing to turn around to face him. As soon as she would do it, they would have to face the reality of the previous evening existing in their history and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.
“My head hurts way less than I expected it to, and I did manage to get some sleep, which is definitely working in my benefit.” He responded, and she couldn’t see him, but the smug undertone of his voice was clear as day.
“How did I get to bed? I remember falling asleep in the loveseat…”
“I woke up in the middle of the night, at first very confused, until I remembered where I was, and then I saw you there, in the most uncomfortable position ever known to human kind. I couldn’t bring myself to let you suffer. And besides, it is your bed, you have more right to sleep in it than I do, so it was only fitting that I move you to get some proper rest.”
Silence fell upon them, as heavy as fog in the middle of the night, clouding their minds. They got dressed without speaking one word to each other, and it was killing them from the inside. They’ve been through so much together, and yet, when it came to their feelings, there seemed to be this roaring chasm that separated them, seemingly impossible to cross.
Or so it seemed. Because she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So are we just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?” she asked in one breath, her words fast and for the most part incoherent, but he understood them all too well.
His stomach squeezed as she confronted him about his actions, staring at him with equal parts boldness and uneasiness. A tempest of emotions they felt around each other was the strongest sensation either of them have ever felt, like a magnet that pulled them towards one another.
“I-“ their eyes met as he tried to justify his behavior, tried to come up with a believable excuse for his slip of control, but the damage was done. He told her he loved her, there was no coming back from it. A point of no return. “I don’t know what to tell you. What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me the truth.” She took a step towards him, then another, until they were face to face. Green met blue and his hand flew up to cup her cheek in his palm, much like he did the night before. “I want you to be honest with me. That much you owe me.”
“Honest about what?” he chose to play dumb, something he hated in other people. She made him act recklessly, with his heart instead of his head. She was messing with his head, and he would let her do it, time and time again.
“Us. Was what you said true?” she asked quietly, searching for answers in his blue irises. They stared at one another, waiting for the other to make a move. “Do you love me?”
“I do.” He answered before fitting his lips to hers in a softest of kisses.
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kinda-iconic · 5 years ago
Text
You’re all I ever wanted (pt II)
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Summary: Christmas arrives in New York, and Adrian and Amy decide to spend their first official Christmas as a couple in the sanctuary of the penthouse.
Author’s Note: So, my original plan was to post this fic in one full post… but my windows keeps crashing (it’s playing up every minute or so), thus making me decide to split this fic into 3/4 parts - the second part being was meant to be posted on Boxing Day (26th Dec), however, there was a delay. 
This fanfic takes place between ‘Guilt isn’t always a rational thing’ and ‘Truth doesn’t always set you free’. 
Taglist: @nk-writes @queerchoicesblog @shelley-parah @bhavf @galaxyside-0 @galaxy-of-rosess @flyawayboo @octobereighth @katyagrayce @mangoruby @desiree-0816 @dr-brianna-casey-valentine @lovemychoices @hhiggs @flowerpowell @theclanless @iplaydrake @choicesfannatalie @adrianadmirer @krishu213 @perriewinklenerdie @timmagicktoad @femmeshep @drakesensworld @mfackenthal @the-soot-sprite @whenyourheartskipsabeat @luckyferrero @emceesynonymroll @adrianrainesworld @omgjasminesimone @dadrianraines @msuhailey @slaymesayeed @caroldxnvxrs @lexilooloolovesadrian @allaboutchoices @bbchoices​ @cora-nova​
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Half an hour passes, and there has been no movement from the bedroom; after speaking to Amy, Adrian made his way into the bathroom, preparing himself for the events of the day. He switches on the shower, the hot water hitting the tiles rather swiftly; he waits for a moment, allowing the temperature to climb before entering. The mirror begins to steam, yet Adrian’s focus remains on the bathroom door. His eyes fixate on the handle, his ears twitching ever so slightly as he tries to listen out for any sign of movement. 
But he hears nothing. 
‘Amy?’ His voice is soft, yet loud enough for her to hear, ‘is everything alright?’ He listens out for an answer, but his ears betray him. After a couple of minutes, he switches the shower off, preventing any noise from distracting her from the sound of his voice. He speaks again, his tone more stern and worrisome. 
‘Amy? Are you okay?’
He doesn’t wait as long this time, his muscles tensing slightly as his concern intensifies. He steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist before opening the door to the bathroom. He peeks his head into the bedroom, his eyes darting to the four corners of the room before gazing at Amy; her sleeping form remains motionless, her arms tucked under her pillow as she falls further into her slumber. 
‘Amy...’
He makes his way over to her, perching on the edge of the bed; he rests his hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake.
‘Amy...’ she stirs at the sound of his voice, reaching up to wipe the sleep from her eyes, ‘Amy, sweetheart, it’s time to get up.’
She sighs contently, her eyes fluttering open. 
‘Mmmm... I slept through my alarm, didn’t I?’
He nods. She places her arms at her sides, lifting herself to sit upright. Adrian places a supportive hand on the small of her back. 
‘You did, my love.’
She frowns slightly. 
‘Why didn’t you wake me? I only wanted five more minutes...’
‘Because you look so peaceful when you’re sleeping,’ he strokes her hair, his hand falling onto her cheek, ‘and I thought that you deserved a lot more than five minutes.’
‘That’s very considerate of you, Mr Raines.’
He smiles bemusedly. 
‘For you, I try to be,’ he adjusts his position on the bed, moving himself closer to her, ‘did you want me to get you anything?’
‘You’ve asked me that already...’
‘Well, your answer might have changed since then.’
She slowly wraps an arm around his waist, nestling her head into his chest; he reciprocates, his arms constricting around her torso. 
‘I’m alright,’ she whispers, ‘but thank you for offering.’
He kisses her forehead.
‘You don’t need to thank me, Amy; you’re everything to me, and I just want to make sure that you’re happy and comfortable.’ 
‘I am,’ she looks up at him, smiling faintly, ‘I’m nice and warm... but there’s just one little problem.’
‘Oh? And what is that, exactly?’
‘You’re soaking wet,’ she glances at her pyjama top, ‘you could have at least dried yourself off before coming in here!’
He chuckles. 
‘You weren’t answering me; I had to make sure that you were alright.’ 
‘But you could have at least dried yourself off a little bit; now I’m just drenched in shower water.’
‘We can fix that.’
‘How?’ She narrows her brows, a confused expression etched on her face as she gives herself a once-over, ‘I’m guessing your plan involves me getting dressed again?’
His arms tighten around her, drawing her closer to his chest; he presses a tender kiss to her forehead.
‘Yes, but it’ll be worth it.’
                                 ----------------------------------------------------
Adrian sits beside the bath, the hot water lapping against the sides as it begins to rise. He waits patiently for a moment before adding the bubble bath, pouring it directly into the stream of water as it leaves the tap. He fills the bath halfway, adding a few rose petals to the tub.
‘Amy?’ He calls out to her over his shoulder, ‘could you come in here please?’
‘Just a second!’
A couple of minutes pass before Amy enters; her hair is disheveled from sleep, and her pyjama top is still damp from their previous embrace. She begins to speak, her voice calm and giddy with curiosity.
‘Is everything okay? It seemed that you were pretty desperate to -’ 
She glances down at the tub, her brows furrowing in befuddlement as she spies the soapy water; she points to the bath. 
‘I thought that you’d already taken a shower?’
‘I have,’ he gestures to the petals, ‘this isn’t for me.’
‘Is it for me?’ Her eyes widen as she focuses on the bubbles, the sweet aroma of apple and spice filling the air as the water continues to steam; he buries his face into the crook of her neck, kissing her shoulder.
‘It is indeed,’ he places his hands on her hips, swaying her slightly, ‘I used the bubble bath from your holiday set… I hope you don’t mind.’
She shakes her head.
‘Of course I don’t; I’ve been meaning to use them,’ she turns to look at him, a joyful smile blossoming on her face, ‘and the bathroom smells divine!’  
He chuckles softly, reaching up to caress her cheek, his touch gentle and light.
‘And the smell isn’t too strong?’
‘Nope! It’s lovely… though I do feel like I’ve walked into Santa’s workshop.’ 
His brows furrow in confusion, causing her to tilt her head in intrigue. 
‘Is it too strong for you? With your heightened senses…’
‘A little bit.’
‘Oh,’ she pouts slightly, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘There’s no need for you to apologise to me, Amy. I chose to use them, therefore, if the smell is too strong for me, then it’s my fault. I must have just poured too much in.’
She wanders over to the tub, perching on the ledge. She dips her finger into the water, testing the warmth before collecting a handful of bubbles. She opens her palm fully, blowing the soapy suds in Adrian’s direction, glancing up at him with a cheeky smile.
‘Do I really smell that bad?’
He shakes his head in amusement, reaching for the box of matches. He lights a few candles, placing one on either side of the bath.
‘You smell amazing, my love,’ he smiles up at her, extinguishing the match, ‘like sunshine and happiness.’
She giggles, tying her hair in a bun.
‘Then why all of the bubbles?’
‘In all honesty, I don’t usually have bubble baths,’ he runs a comforting hand down her spine, his fingers ghosting the small of her back, ‘I only really started buying the supplies for them when your visits were becoming more frequent, so I don’t know the right amount of mixture to pour into the water.’
‘Really? But surely you’ve had a bubble bath, or have prepared one for someone else.’
‘No,’ he pauses, ‘I usually take a shower; I’m not normally a ‘bath’ kind of guy.’
‘So you’ve never had a bubble bath?’
‘I have had one once or twice,’ he kneels before her, placing a gentle hand on the underside of her calf; he lifts each leg in turn, carefully removing the slippers from her feet, ‘but it’s very rare that I do.’
‘Then why don’t we change that?’ She smiles mischievously up at him, dipping her hand into the water, ‘this tub is big enough for two, after all.’
He shakes his head, meeting her smile with a loving grin.
‘I’ve already been in the shower,’ he rises to his feet, pressing a tender kiss to her temple, ‘but I might take you up on that offer next time.’
She sighs at the contact.
‘I’ll need to go and get a fresh set of clothes before I get in; I didn’t exactly bring anything with me.’
‘You didn’t need to.’
Adrian ponders over to the cabinet beside the sink; he opens the cupboard, retrieving a couple of freshly washed garments.
‘I went back into the bedroom and collected a few things whilst you were asleep… I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No, I… I don’t mind.’ She looks at the pile of fabric, her eyes fixating on each individual item; a pair of black leggings hang down from his arm. On top of them, a singular white vest and a green jumper. ‘I’m just relieved that you didn’t dig out my jeans…’ she gestures down to her stomach, ‘I’m not even able to do them up anymore.’
He laughs, placing the clothing on the stool beside him. ‘Well I’m afraid it’ll only get harder to fit into your old clothes as the pregnancy goes on, my love.’ He strokes her cheek affectionately, ‘I’ll have to go back and get you a pair of socks, as well as other things, but I shouldn’t be long.’
‘I can go and get them, it’s alright.’
She gets to her feet, but it isn’t long before he stops her, one arm carefully wrapped around her waist as he helps her sit back down.
‘Adrian… I’m fine, I… I can go and get them; it’s okay…’
He rests both hands on her forearms, holding her steadily.
‘No I’ll go,’ he smiles fondly at her, drawing soothing circles on her skin with his fingertips, ‘it was me who forgot them, it’s only right that I go and fix that.’
‘What do I do whilst you’re gone? Is there anything else you need, or…’
‘Amy…’ he stops her mid sentence, running his thumb across her bottom lip, ‘I’m meant to be taking care of you, remember? You’re carrying my child; I want to do everything I can to ensure that you and the baby are alright.’
‘And that includes running me a bath?’
He nods, his grin widening.
‘Baths… late night trips to the store to sate your pregnancy cravings…’ he places his hand gently on her abdomen, ‘endless cuddles and kisses. It’s all yours, Amy.’
She inclines her head towards him, kissing him softly. He smiles against her lips, his hand reaching up to tangle itself in her hair; he starts to speak, his voice calm and soothing.
‘Did that make you feel any better?’
She nods, looking down at her hands, her fingers clasping onto the fabric of her pyjama bottoms.
‘A little bit.’
‘Good,’ he rises to his feet, his hand never leaving her forearm, ‘I’ll be back in a minute; if you need me for anything, just call for me, alright?’
She places her hand atop of his, giving it a comforting squeeze. 
‘Okay.’
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in-tua-deep · 6 years ago
Note
you cant just bring up an au where animals survive the apocalypse and not elaborate?????
v a l i d
okay so in this au, thirteen year old Five jumps and ends up in rubble and ruin and find his siblings and realizes that he is alone in the universe at the end of day
except Vanya didn’t destroy the moon in take one of the apocalypse, instead she was so angry at humanity for betraying her in every way - hey father, her siblings, even leonard in the end - that she decided that humanity didn’t deserve to exist. Her powers were a targeted strike, and they killed every living human before tearing her apart as well
so the animals are alive, the dogs, the cats, the deer, the rats, all left alive
and five is crying and gasping and looking at the dead bodies of his siblings and he hears a bark, and he turns around and it’s dog. it hasn’t been that long since the apocalypse, it knows humans, and it’s friendly, so it approaches this sad sad boy who is crying salt tears and tries to lick them away and be helpful and five is frightened at first because he’s never been around dogs but,, it’s a good dog, a nice dog, and he ends up curling around this dog and just bawling his eyes out
and he follows the dog. he doesn’t have anything better to do. and the dog leads him back to - you guess it, more dogs
and look, they aren’t going to attack him. they aren’t hungry. it’s an unfortunate fact that there is… currently plenty of food to go around, for the meat eaters among them at least, and they don’t even have to hunt it. It’s not a source of food Five could ever touch, of course, but the people of the city are dead so it’s not like they really care anymore
the dogs of the city adopt him, and so do the cats when Five goes out exploring. He gives them good scratches and they like rubbing themselves against his legs. He likes very much when they sit on him and rumble loudly and they’re very soft. 
the animals of the city quickly realize that their boy has human hands and can open things, so Five spends a lot of time following intelligent animals and prying open buckled in doors and gates and freeing trapped animals and also opening up cans and other food items that get brought to him because he has clever fingers and can open up things like that
Five talks to them a lot at first. He names them all and can recognize them, grinning and asking them how they’re doing and pretending they can respond to him in a way he understands. He talks a lot, because his is the only voice left in the apocalypse, save for barks and meows and growls
slowly he incorporates those into his vocabulary as well though, as the years pass on. A growl to tell someone to leave him alone, sharp yips when tiny teeth go too far, throwing his head back and adding to the baying howls when everyone is being noisy at night, figuring out how to make the rumble in his chest right back at the cats
he sleeps wherever he wants, surrounded by friends and feeling safe. Puppy piles and stinky breath, kittens pressed into his side with the mother cat curled up next to his neck as he sprawls out. he learns to associate sleep and safety with a dozen other bodies pressed against his own, warm and alive and noisy and beautiful
he still looks for equations, still reads in the library. Sometimes the only times he uses his words anymore is when he’s writing on the walls and explaining his equations to a dog with floppy ears and wise eyes who can help him catch any problems. a bit like rubber ducks and programmers
food isn’t as big an issue as the original timeline. Five learns to hunt, learns to wait and wait and then POUNCE and snap and then he has rat-mouse-bird whatever for dinner! the pack and the colony share what they can and Five is no different, he doesn’t keep all of his prey for himself and often scavenges what is left of people-food as well, also picking out plants and berries and other things to supplement his diet with
It’s not just cats and dogs either, Five learns to whistle-chirp at the birds in the morning and mimic their songs. He likes to sing to them when they sing back to him, it’s a little bit like having a conversation as they change up the tune and mimic one another back and forth, back and forth
Five has a hundred thousand conversations in the apocalypse, but none of them are human
well, only one of them is
He’s old and very close to a breakthrough when the Handler comes for him. He’s lived through generations of dogs-and-cats, his original companions long since passed. He’s a given fact of the pack-and-colony now, there isn’t an animal in the city who doesn’t know him and he them. She comes and she offers him a job, and Five hasn’t used his words in a long time but he knows the promise behind her smile. Knows he doesn’t have a real choice in this matter. If he says no, she will kill him to be sure that he never completes his equations. If he says yes, she will take him away from his pack, his colony, his family. It’s an impossible choice, but Five always did know that he wanted to go back, to save his siblings, he was still loyal-loyal-loyal and cared far too much
so he agreed. he spent a few more brief hours running through the city and whining his goodbyes to his family, hands reaching out and petting fur and bodies as they pressed against him. He grabbed the vanya-book he’d been keeping his equations in and passed it off as sentiment (his old family, the one he still loved so so much, he’d never found vanya’s body just her book)
He doesn’t sleep well in the commission. He would say it was the killing, but it’s not. It’s the loneliness. It’s the absence of a dozen bodies pressed against his own, warm and breathing and noisy and alive. It’s the absence of claws catching in his clothes, of wet noses pressing against his skull, of tiny heads headbutting him when he wasn’t paying enough attention for their liking. He’s so used to noise that the silence is unnerving
he gets his equation, and he seizes the opportunity with both hands. He falls-falls-falls into the courtyard and stares at the faces that he only knows from finding their bodies and he is jubilant, he howls his joy and it takes him a minute to realize that this is not-his-body
(he bets if his friends had been there to listen he would have caught whatever error he made, but the commission took all of his friends away from him)
he throws himself at his siblings with all the simple joy of family reuniting, and it feels right and good to once more be able to press himself against warm-living-breathing-loved bodies and he’s pulling out all the stops to say “i’m here! i’m home! family! i love you!” and he barely even notices that it isn’t human-verbal-words and that he’s rubbing his head against Klaus’s chest and rumbling like he would to greet a colony member after a long absence
The siblings are, obviously, very confused at this tiny-five-in-a-big-suit who is purring and howling and hasn’t spoken to them yet but is clearly so overjoyed by them being there
someone mentions food and Five’s attention is immediately caught and! Kitchen! he remembers the kitchen! his family might be hungry! and Five is a good provider and he’s still kind of caught up in the fact that his family is right there so maybe they’re confused when Five grabs a bag of marshmallows and tears it open with his teeth and then deposits a handful of marshmallows on everyone’s laps before going to town on his own portion. He missed marshmallows! A whole lot!
“Hey Five what the fuck” someone says “can we get an explanation here holy shit”
and Five remembers his mission oops he swallows his marshmallows and opens his mouth and makes human words come out and he asks them for the date. Eight days! Eight days until the apocalypse. He never did figure out what happened, all the structures had crumbled and all the humans had died but… how? He had the eye he took from his brother’s corpse, and a newspaper with the date it had happened, but he hadn’t been able to find much more
and this is a five who knows how to share, he’s spend forty some years (he doesn’t know his age, doesn’t know how long he was there, he stopped keeping track and brushes off that question when asked) basically sharing everything he had with a whole bunch of animals. What was his was theirs and what was theirs was his. So he shares with his siblings. He presses himself against Diego’s side and curls his arm around Allison’s and produces the glass eye and tells them proudly that Luther had it
everyone looks at Luther and he’s like “uhhh what? no i didn’t stop looking at me guys”
and Five frowns and is like “No not this luther, dead-Luther.”
and that does not help one bit
and with prodding Five basically reveals that he jumped to the apocalypse and found all their dead corpses (except for vanya’s! and ben’s! but he knows that ben was dead before now because of the book) and pried this gross crusty bloody glass eye out of Luther’s dead hand and everyone is horrified but Five is nodding and all like “Yes! How I recognized you! Look the same, because it happens in eight days. But we’ll stop it! No one dies!”
and he also presents Vanya’s books which is still stained with soot and ash and clearly beaten up to all hell and marked up with a whole bunch of equations that Five is clearly very proud of and you know what?? suddenly this apocalypse thing doesn’t seem too farfetched because Five is sitting here with vague proof and like, if Five didn’t go to the apocalypse then where did he get this shit and he must have gone SOMEWHERE after that dinner
(they do ask about his age and he looks very put out and is like “messed up! supposed to be older.” but when they ask how old, Five shrugs and is like “grey hair old? achey bones old.” and no one can get more of an answer out of him bc five just,, literally doesn’t know)
and you know what i’m going to say that animals are fucking amazing and that five gets to meet some old friends or that some old friends find him because of his gleeful howling/yelling in the courtyard upon arrival. if animals can see spirits and recognize people through reincarnations then i say they can be chill with time travel
so five goes outside and is tackled by a cat who immediately begins grooming his hair and five is just like !!! it’s mama cat! she was one of the first to find him in the apocalypse! she had babies! does she have babies now? and he’s purring and pressing his face against hers in greeting and his siblings are there like whhaaatttt
and it doesn’t help that he turns around and introduces them and is like “!! Mama these are my siblings! Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, and Vanya! this is mama!”
Mama cat eventually exits only to return carrying one of her jelly beans to Five’s absolute delight. He doesn’t remember them all being so small! He introduces the kittens to his siblings as well
one of them he actually named Allison in the apocalypse, and she’d been one he say frequently. They’d evolved over the years from calling her Allison to the more playful name of Allie-cat for the pun though, so that’s what he introduces that particular kitten as and they’re none the wiser
of course, he still leaves the house. But his siblings follow him. Five isn’t going for coffee though, doesn’t care about Griddy’s diner, because if Mama Cat remembers him then maybe - 
he gets out of the house and down the street before he’s tackled by a big dog and his siblings shout in alarm and run towards him but they quickly realize that a) the dog is not biting him he’s very enthusiastically licking Five, and b) Five is yipping in laughter and very enthusiastically greeting this stray dog
he actually does introduce the dog as diego earning a baffled squawk from human Diego and Five realizes the issue. After a quick nonverbal consult Five is like “Brother? This is Brother.”
the siblings quietly realize that oof, Five was in the apocalypse until his hair was White (bc he hasn’t talked about the commission yet) which is presumably a long time and he showed up growling and purring and has already introduced them to several animals who seem to be familiar with him and,,, just having some realizations over there
(diego is actually v touched that Five named one of his apocalypse companions after him but he’s not going to admit to that)
and then the hit squad show up and five kills them and Brother fucks up one of them and the other hargreeves quickly square up and also wreak havoc and eventually they’re all back home +1 dog and like “what the FUCK” and five is in a sharing kind of spirit and mama cat is already depositing one of her babies in his lap so he solemnly informs the squad about the commission and that they stole him from the apocalypse and made him heel
(he didn’t talk much in the commission, but they didn’t mind. He’d growled once when the Handler got too close to him, and she’d made a joke about him being a dog and being brought to heel. He hadn’t liked it, but he’d stopped growling and tried to be on his best behavior so they wouldn’t be suspicious of his activities)
basically there’s a lot more information sharing and belief in this au
the squad is like “you know what? we’ll deal with this in the morning. no one goes off on their own until we deal with the fuckin,, time travelling assassins and i can’t believe that phrase came out of my mouth”
and so everyone goes to bed
and five wavers because everyone goes to separate beds and that’s not right, is it? (though if he does think back, he does remember the lonely nights in lonely rooms, of suction cups against his forehead and nightmares gone uncomforted) 
and being a tiny bastard is like “well this won’t do right brother?? right mama cat?” and decides he’ll just have to show his siblings the PROPER way to sleep and so grabs vanya and tows her to klaus’s room where klaus drops something looking slightly guilty and five pushes vanya at the bed, brother needs no invitation and immediately hops up which klaus protests, and he’d have mama cat up here as well but she isn’t too sure about bringing her babies up on the bed yet which he understands. and it’s a tight fit because five shoves klaus into the bed as well and climbs in, ignoring any questions and protests, but it’s warm and safe and five actually feels like he can sleep for the first time in a long time
and eventually the protesting dies down when it becomes clear that nope, five isn’t going to be letting anyone leave the bed because it’s sleep time, everyone said so, and so they all settle down eventually and brother is lying half on Five’s leg, heavy and solid, and Five had hooked his free ankle around Vanya’s foot and is pressed against her and he’s got his hands fisted in Klaus’s shirt and everyone is here-safe-warm-alive
and they just go from there. they know about the apocalypse way earlier. vanya says she has to go to her apartment and five is unsure and eventually asks her if brother can go with her to keep her safe and she agrees (and brother HATES leonard the first time they meet and is very vocal about it leading to the cancellation of the lesson whoops)
hazel and cha-cha have far more difficulty finding five this time after five digs out his tracker (which horrifies all his siblings but 100% convinces them he’s telling the truth holy shit)
Five meets more animals he knows/knew though lots of them are actually pets and have humans which are alive!! he thinks that’s neat even as their humans are apologizing for their normally well behaved pets bowling down this 13yr old with enthusiasm and licks and delight
The siblings keep having to remind Five to ‘use his words’ when he huffs or growls or grumbles, and his siblings can’t read body language for SHIT which is certainly annoying. Brother and Mama Cat sympathize with his plight at least.
but yeah honestly maybe the apocalypse is averted by vanya having a dog which despises the very air leonard peabody breathes which alerts five to something hinky and, upon investigation, he finds the journal in leonard/harold’s possession and immediately presents it back to the family like “yes! see! brother isn’t being unreasonable!”
“five did you break into a man’s house because your dog didn’t like him”
i have a bad feeling that at least one animal is harmed in the making of this au and that they sacrifice themself for either five or one of the siblings oof
but yeah vanya doesn’t cause the apocalypse by virtue of everyone trying to figure out how to deal with their semi-feral little brother and his menagerie of animals and the rest of the time travel bullshit that follows along behind him
also orange idiot shows up at some point as well because i’m the maker of this random universe and i say so and five ALSO recognizes him and is absolutely delighted that apparently diego is orange’s human which makes them double family and diego is honestly in shock that orange idiot is sitting on five’s chest and purring like a steam engine because diego has never once heard that animal do anything more than hiss and growl before this day
i haven’t thought through the end as you can tell but hey maybe hazel and agnes end up adopting a nice big dog or five teaches hazel some of the birdcalls he learned in the apocalypse idk i like hazel
five rotates between his siblings for sleeping and they just learn to accept this and accept it if he selects them to dogpile in with at night. the kittens grow bigger because they live in the house now so it ends up being like, three humans, one dog, one cat, and four kittens in a bed each night where there is NOT enough room but they learn to deal because otherwise five just doesn’t sleep 
also five learns to take cues from the cats to figure out where ben is and include him in conversations
mr. pennycrumb also shows up at some point idk when
that’s all i got for now but i’ll probably come back to this
inspired by my cat who won’t stop trying to trip me up and headbutt my face and step on my stomach because he loves me
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phoneboxfairy · 5 years ago
Text
Winter Warmth ch 12 - Natsu’s Quest
Ao3 link to the full fic (with intended formatting)- https://archiveofourown.org/works/11603859/chapters/26084934 (Jeez I am on a ROLL this weekend with writing.)  Wanted. One wizard to help with a desperate situation. A golden gate key and five hundred thousand jewels are your reward.
Desperate situation? Natsu had no idea what that could mean. He really didn't care. All he was concerned about was finishing the job, collecting the reward, and getting back home.
It turned out that "desperate" was subject to interpretation.
"You want me to get rid of all the dead plants in your yard?"
"Young man this is not a yard; it's a garden."
Grrrr.
"Okay, my bad. So you want me to get rid of of the dead plants in the garden."
"That is correct. I simply cannot host my candlelit garden dinners when my garden is overflowing with dead filth. What would the chancellor say?"
Natsu had no idea what the chancellor would say, nor did he really care. He wasn't about to say that out loud, though.
Do it for Lucy. That thought is what motivated him that entire afternoon.
It kept him from swearing up a storm as a thorny vine slashed his hand.
It kept him focused on getting this ridiculous job done.
And honestly it kept him from just burning the entire yard (garden) to a crisp out of frustration.
Only love could get Natsu to do such a tedious job. His entire plan depended on getting it finished to the rich lady's satisfaction.
Sure, he did burn away some pesky brambles that wouldn't budge otherwise, but the woman didn't seem to mind. He ignored the obvious sneer as she took in his muddy clothes and soot streaked face.
Clearly she noticed the way his eyes lit up when she gave him the money and the key.
"Might I ask why you wanted this drab little thing?"
"My girlfriend's a celestial witch. Best in Fiore." Proud grin, flashing fangs.
"Oh, the Heartfilia girl? Good family. Despite your horrendous fashion sense you seem to have some taste. Good day." Another sneer as she closed her door, leaving Natsu and Happy free to leave.
"Sheesh, what a snob. Why are some people like that?"
"I dunno. Guess they think being rich makes the world spin around 'em." Shrug. He smirked.
"Good thing Lucy's not like that."
"Anymore!"
The cat chuckled. Natsu was tempted to lash out, but Happy was right. She had been a little brat at first...thankfully she had grown up a lot since then. Grown into the strong mage he knew and loved.
They both had grown quite a bit, in fact.
The thought made him smile.
After lunch the pair focused on the other component of the trip: picking out a ring for Lucy. Truthfully, Natsu wasn't really worried about the price. He only wanted to find something that would suit her. Playful and fun rather than extravagant, with a touch of elegance.
That was easier said than done.
This town had an entire row of jewelry shops, each with what seemed like millions of rings to choose from. He spent what seemed like hours looking and growing increasingly irritated when Happy chimed in with an idea.
"Why don't you ask Mira?"
"Because I didn't think about it, that's why, buddy." He ruffled the exceed's fur, pulled out his lacrima, and called Mira.
Of course, as fate would have it, something caught his attention just as she answered.
"Natsu? What's up? Is everything alright?"
"Everything's great. I think I found the perfect ring."
"Ooooo! I want to see!"
"Huh? How?"
"Oh, tap the camera button."
"Okay..." Tap. The screen changed to display the counter in front of him. He moved his hand a bit so that the ring in question was plainly visible. “Is it the  one with the blue stones?” “Yeah...think she’ll like it?” Natsu blushed, suddenly feeling shy. Mira squealed.
“Of course she will! You got the key, right?”
“I got it. Still can’t believe Aquarius’s key ended up in the hands of some crazy rich lady...” “What matters is that you have it, and you’re giving it to Lucy. Now, buy the ring and hurry back home, alright?!”
He could have sworn he caught a glimpse of she-devil in her eyes. Gulp. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t forget to call Lucy tonight!”
Blip.
The call ended before Natsu could retort that he would never forget something that important.
Some time later…
Dragon slayer and exceed were lounging around next to their tent and a roaring fire. They had just eaten dinner and now Natsu was contemplating when to call Lucy.
And of course Happy was egging him on.
“What are you waiting for? I know you loooooooove her.”
“Duh. Everyone knows that by now. What if she’s busy writing?”
“Like that’s ever stopped ya before!”
Natsu grinned at that.
“I guess you’re right, buddy.”
Mere moments later the lovebirds were chatting away quite happily. Lucy had indeed been writing her novel for most of the day, so Natsu’s call was a welcome break.
It was a long conversation. They talked about her writing, how her latest novel was going. As he did so very often, he encouraged her.
They talked about the job. Lucy had a good hearty laugh at Natsu’s impression of the stuffy rich lady.
Then they talked about the goings-on at the guild. He listened to this intently. He would never admit it but truth be told he felt a bit lonely, even with Happy traveling with him.
“I wanna show you somethin’.”
“Huh? What?”
“Look...” He switched on the lacrima’s camera and pointed it at the night sky, so clear and full of stars. “It ain’t Stella but it’s still pretty cool.”
“It’s beautiful. Thanks, Natsu.”
“No problem. Wish you were here.” His voice softened with those last four words. Well, if it wasn’t for the big surprise, he would have brought her along…
“Could we watch it together?”
“Sure.” Anything for her, especially if it made her smile. He lay in the grass with the lacrima on his chest, gazing up at the sky with his girl. It wasn’t hard at all to imagine her laying next to him as she pointed out constellations and planets.
Immeasurable time passed. At long last Lucy’s voice caught his attention.
“I should go. We both need to get some sleep.”
“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Yawn, stretch. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”
Shit… He had NOT meant to call her that. Not out loud. Shit, shit, shit! No mistake, the slayer’s face was hot with blush.
“Babygirl…? I think I like that...”
“Y-you do?” Gulp.
“Yeah. It’s sweet.” Soft giggle. “Night, Natsu. See you tomorrow night.” Right as the call ended he heard something, three words someone without dragon slayer hearing might very well have missed. These three words touched his heart and made him want to get home to see his girlfriend as soon as possible.
“I love you.” ~~ Natsu and Happy were on the road early the next morning. They had a long way to go still and Natsu was determined to get back to Magnolia before nightfall.
They almost didn’t make it in time. About halfway home, walking along a river, they were attacked by a rather aggressive river monster.
Thankfully the beast was sent packing, or, well, swimming, with a well-placed Fire Dragon Iron Fist.
Back in Magnolia, Natsu stopped at their cottage first. This was mostly because he wasn’t about to meet up with Lucy looking and smelling like three days of travel. He washed up, got dressed, and listened to Happy giving him all kinds of hell about supposedly being whipped the whole time.
“Whatever, buddy. You’ll understand when you’re older.” Said with a chuckle. That was when Natsu took a long look at his reflection.
His hair had grown out a little. Nothing like the wild mess it had been after his year of training, but long enough to notice.
The stubble on his cheek was new. The entire look was scruffy yet mature. He decided that he liked it… and privately hoped Lucy would, too.
Lucy…
Thinking about her, especially their pending reunion, made the dragon slayer smile.
That smile remained on his face as he ran back to the guild hall with Happy clinging to his shoulder.
Soon…Soon!
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antarestyl · 7 years ago
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you would write a fic with more sansbyyy (obviously not in tbs),😂I know you have a fic but mah heart needs more
Well, have a small fic then. Dunno just yet how far I will go with this. I would think at least 1-2 more chapters the least, but this might develop into more like the UF!Sansby one. ;)
This will be like 90% fluff for everybody who needs this right now.
Something old, something new…    
AO3 link
Summery: Many things changed with coming to the surface. Grillby and Sans’s relationship might be one of these things.
Living on the surface came with a lots of plus points.
For one point, it was the SURFACE. There was a sky and the sun and the STARS in the night. It was a beautiful place, full of plants and animals and all kinds of human stuff. It was new and interesting and ever changing.
There was weather.
Humans were a bit confused when monster showed a pretty strange but enthusiastic joy whenever the weather changed. Be it sunny or cloudy, rain or snow, heat or mild temperatures, it would put monster in good moods.
Another strange but good thing was that apparently gold was pretty valuable to humans. So what was a meager savings for hard times before, was now a wealth great enough to live comfortably on for quite a while.
Grillby never hurt for money, his sold from his soldier-days was barely touched over all the time, but he enjoyed working in his bar. And now he could built his bar all new and just like he wanted. Also now he could hire some more employees so he had even more flexibility and could even take some days off work.
The problem was, that he didn’t really know what to do with himself once he had a day off.
While his new bar was constructed, he already took the time to travel a bit, visiting a near-by dessert and checked out all sorts of tourist attractions that could be found around his living space. He had been thinking about visiting other countries too but found himself a bit to nervous flying on airplanes over big bodies of water to really consider this.
So there he was, having one of his free days… and being pretty bored.
His apartment was pretty bare. There really wasn’t much he did in here usually besides sleeping and resting after work so he didn’t bother with personalizing it. There were a few photographs on the walls but nothing much else. It felt… empty. Lonely.
He did still have his niece but she had moved a bit out of town with Grillby’s sister and her girlfriend, so he talked mostly via texts with her. But now it was a weekday so she would be in school most likely.
Most of Grillby’s friends were regulars from his bar and friends was… a bit big of an word for that. He knew them and cared about them but he wasn’t really close with them.
Grillby’s flames flickered a bit lower when he finally concluded that he was just very very lonely.
He kind of missed Snowdin now. Long days at the bar, which was always filled with familiar faces. And of course, Sans, who came each and every day.
Sans had been a stable for some years for Grillby, a small skeleton monster with a way with puns and who never failed to make Grillby laugh. They had struck up an easy friendship, Sans being there to cheer Grillby up and Grillby being there to listen to Sans and help him if needed. The tap was a long-standing joke between them. Sans payed what he owned Grillby without a fail and Grillby would sometimes give Sans food for free, especially when he saw the small skeleton struggle with life in general.
Sans wouldn’t always tell him everything that was wrong but Grillby had the feeling that Sans told him more about the things going on in his life than to anybody else. Grillby in turn had the feeling he could trust Sans with everything in his life in turn.
They knew a lot of things of each other. Grillby knew about Sans struggling with money sometimes. He knew Sans lost his parents at a young age and that Papyrus doesn’t remember either of them. He knew Sans liked ketchup because the texture was nice to him and he hated raw carrots. He knew Sans was afraid of heights. He knew how much Sans loved his brother and that he loved the stars and longed to see them for real. He knew Sans used to be a scientist but that something happened and he is not one anymore. He knew Sans had a friend he had never seen face-to-face, a voice behind a door that shared puns and knock-knock-jokes with him.
He knew a ton more and Grillby had always felt kinda honored to know this much about Sans. It felt nice. When he called Sans his dear friend in public the eyes of the little skeleton had lit up brightly and Grillby had felt a flutter of warmness at the sight.
It all changed on the surface.
Sans now was heavily involved in politics, even if only behind the scenes. He took care of Frisk whenever Queen Toriel or King Asgore couldn’t, he was behind the scenes when his brother was speaking the to the humans. He sat together with the royal scientist Alphys at the tables as an representative of the science division of monster kin and he still acted like the judge whenever Asgore needed him to be. Grillby had heard that Sans had bought a house and a telescope, a real one, and had a year-pass for the observatory. He heard talk that the little skeleton could become a real scientist again, working on big projects about space and stars.
He didn’t heard any of this from Sans himself and hadn’t seen his dear friend in weeks. To be honest, it hurt more than he would have thought.
Grillby was old and had lived through a lot of years. He had seen monster come and go, whole lines of families in Snowdin went by in a blink of an eye. Sure, each death of somebody he knew hurt but nothing hurt so much than the notion that he had lost the one that was his closest friend for such a long time to the wonders of the surface.
A part of Grillby longed to be back in Snowdin.
He signed deeply, banishing the thoughts. No, that was not fair. None of this was fair.
He decided to spend the day outside, leaving his empty and cold department to go to a near-by park. Maybe that would banish his dark thoughts.
The weather was nice. Pretty nice in fact. The sun was shining, birds were singing and flowers were blooming in the little park that Grillby favored for his walks when his apartment seemed to be closing in on him. It was nice and relaxing out here, the air fresh with a small current in it that let Grillby’s flames dance a bit.
There were a few children with their parents out here, some people walking their dogs or couples relaxing on the benches. It was positively idyllic.
And then Grillby saw Sans. He was standing in the middle of the small road, together with the young human that freed all monster, laughing with them while he stacked up Hotdogs on their head. He was wearing his usual blue jacket but also a pair of ridiculous sunglasses in the shape of flowers and a straw-hat, black shorts and some sort of sandals on his feet.
The human must have noticed him because they turned around and waving at Grillby, prompting Sans to turn around too. There was always a smile on Grillby’s friend but this one seemed… more like any other smile he saw on Sans. More… more peaceful.
Sans was happy, truly happy, and Grillby wondered if he had ever saw Sans happy like this.
“Hey, Grillby,” Sans said as he came closer. “fancy meeting you here. Is this your day off?”
Grillby nodded slowly. “I was… talking a walk.”
“Nice.”, chuckled Sans while Frisk signed quickly beside him.
 //We weren’t at Grillby’s for so long! How are you?//
“I am quite well.”, said Grillby softly. “Thank you for your concern… I haven’t heard from you…. in a while too. It is nice… to see you.”
Frisk nodded happily while Grillby looked over to Sans who looked… slightly guilty?
“Hey, kiddo… how about you go and get some nice-creme and we’ll meet up at the playground in a bit?”, Sans said, handing Frisk some money. The human nodded happily, waving at Grillby and took off.
And just like this he was left alone with Sans.
Sans who looked… more and more uncomfortable? Grillby’s flames lowered a bit more. Friends shouldn’t feel uncomfortable in each others present… right? Did their relationship change this much already?
“Uh… hey again.”, mumbled Sans, laughing slightly. “Wow it… it has been a while.”
“A… few weeks.”, said Grillby. It were six weeks and five days, not that he was counting.
“Wow… time flies huh?”, chuckled Sans nervously before sighing and looking down. “Look, Grillby… I am sorry. I just… so much stuff happened and I… felt kinda bad just popping in on you when you got so much to do too.”, he tried to explain. “I really should have come over more, huh?”
“You are… not under any obligation to visit me.”, said Grillby, trying to soot his friend.
“Still… it… I’m sorry.”, mumbled Sans.
“… I missed you.” was out of Grillbys mouth before he could swallow his own words and Sans blinked, looking at him with wide white eye-lights.
“You did?”, he asked and Grillby was… confused. He sounded like he didn’t expect it.
“Of course.”, he reassured Sans. “I… missed you a lot. Even with… many thing going on… I… would have understood. And enjoyed your company greatly not matter the context and quantity.”
Sans now looked even more guilty and Grillby felt a bit more distress at that.
“Shit Grills, I… I am really sorry now.”, Sans said, sighing. “How about… I’ll make it up to you?”
“… how…?”, asked Grillby surprised.
“Well, I got the day off, you got the day off… I just drop Frisk off to Toriel after this and then we can… meet up? Catch up on stuff?”
Grillby blinked at the offer but felt compelled to take it. He never really met Sans outside of his work but on the other hand, there was barely a time where he was off work in the Underground. So he found himself nodding.
“Alright… How about 3pm at yours?”, asked Sans. “I’ll get you and we’ll figure out where we go?”
Grillby thought shortly about. It was around 11am right now so it was not an unreasonable time. He could finish his walk like this and wouldn’t have to wait to long for their meet-up. So he nodded.
“Alright.”, Grillby said, just to make sure, feeling a smile spread on his face with the realization that he didn’t lost his dear friend apparently. He was looking forward to meeting up now, rekindling what they had in the Underground.
“Nice, it’s a date!”, cheered Sans before winking and teleporting away, most likely to get Frisk while Grillby was left standing frozen again.
 A.. a date?
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themadlostgirl · 8 years ago
Text
Not Dead Yet (Part 32)
*Meant to have this up last week. Mainly set up. Next update quick to come!*
Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan
Warnings: language
The problem with being woken up in the middle of the night is that things that happen during that time have a tendency to be easily forgotten in the morning. You would think the fact that Peter and I made up last night and what almost happened after would have been better etched into my memory. I was so tired though and everything Peter had said last night was too good to be true. So when I woke up I thought that it was just a hopeful dream.
I left my tent and the sun was shining, the island was warm and the little birds were chirping happily. Neverland is actually acting like a paradise. After all the rain and cold wind this was heaven on earth. I met with the boys and talked them into going swimming while the weather permitted. We raced to the nearest lagoon. I was getting a lead on them when I was frozen in my spot. The others saw that I was stuck and merely laughed and kept running. “You jerks! Come back here!”
“I don’t think they’re going to listen to you.” Peter turned around a tree and walked up to me. “Sleep well?”
I didn’t respond. Peter’s eyebrows knit together. “Okay, very funny. Is it because I froze you?” He waved his hand and I was free to move again. “Better?”
I moved to go around him and catch up with the boys when Peter froze me again. “I’m sorry for freezing you. Was that what you wanted to hear? After last night I would have thought you’d be a little more lenient.”
“Oh right. I kinda thought that was all just a dream.” So I was wrong. Last night had been in fact very real.
“Not surprised, girls often say I’m a real life fantasy.”
“Nightmares are fantasies too.” I quipped and he smirked at me before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me alongside him. “You missed me.” I poked his chest.
“I believe we covered that last night. No need to bring it up again.”
“Well I believe that it does. I don’t let you near me for over a month and you bailout the second you realize you’re not getting laid? If you really missed me you would have taken what you can get.”
“You know the old saying, leave them wanting more.”
“Like I do with you?”
“As I said before, I could have you wanting me anytime.”
“Then how is it nothing has happened? Hmm?”
He dropped his arm from around me, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“You could come with me. How often do you really spend time with the boys?” I tugged on his hands.
“Hard to spend time when they’re all so annoying.”
“You spend a lot of time with me.”
“Yes I do. But I don’t think the boys would appreciate me pinning them to a tree trying to seduce them.”
“You are such a prat.” I pulled on his arm, “Let’s go swimming.”
“Maybe another time. I have something I need to do first.” He pulled a small pouch from his hip and withdrew the seer eye I had stolen.
“You haven’t used that yet? What’s wrong with you?” he’s had the answer to escape death for over a month and he hasn’t done anything about it? Does he have some kind of death wish?
“I had other things to worry about.” he put the eye back. “I’ll find you when I learn the face that goes to the heart.”
“You had better. See you later.” I turned to follow the boys.
“Hold on,” Peter spun me back around and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’ve missed being able to do that. Now you can run along.”
“I may?”
“Get out of here.” he gave me a playful shove before disappearing in a blink. I like him but he will never not be an a complete and utter arse.
I ran to catch up with the others who were already down to their skibbies and swimming happily. They made some cheeky comments about what held me up. I rolled my eyes and started pulling off my boots and coat before jumping in as well. I noticed Devin had tagged along with the group and was wading by the far end of the pond.
I swam up next to him and apologized for being kind of a bitch the other day. “So, do you forgive me?” I asked.
“I’ll have to think about it,” he dunked me under so fast I breathed in a heap of water through my nose. I broke the surface wheezing and coughing. “Yeah, I forgive you.”
“You are so gonna pay for that!” I tackled him. We wrestled pushing each other under the water. The others joined in and soon it was an all out huddle of bodies trying to dunk everyone else. I settled for stripping Devin of his trousers when he was busy keeping Nick at bay and fleeing. It took him about five seconds to realize what had happened and broke away from the group to chase me. I had already pulled myself out of the pond and was pounding through the jungle by the time he got to the edge.
Everything was finally starting to feel normal again. I had my boys back, terrible terrors were ringing through the jungle, and life was nothing more than a crazy game as it should be. That was for all of about ten minutes.
As I was running with a partly nude Devin chasing after me something seemed off. I slowed down as I caught a whiff of the air. Devin finally caught up and demanded his pants back. I handed him the pants as I sniffed at the air. Smoke? Devin smelled it now too. We exchanged an uneasy look. I climbed up one of the trees and saw a large column of black smoke billowing from camp. Our fires never smoked like that.
I jumped from the tree and informed Devin as to what was happening. We ran to camp and found it engulfed in flames. Several boys were running from the scene covered in soot. I stopped one of them and asked what happened. No one was sure. One minute the camp was same as ever and the next everything was catching fire and smouldering.
Peter can sense when there is unease like this on the island. This fire should have been put out the moment it started just with a wave of his hand. “Devin, grab the boys and try to put out this mess before it spreads further.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Find my idiot.”
~~~
Peter’s head was splitting. Using the eye had proved much harder than he had initially thought it would. It showed him many flashes of incoherent events yet to come. Faces he had yet to meet. There was no time to sort through them all. He focused on the Heart of the Truest Believer. Every scene was connected as if by shining spider silk, one affecting the other. One spindly line glowed brighter than the others. Peter followed it.
He saw a heart pure red and wrapped in tendrils of gold. This was it. Who was the boy? He saw a face morph from that of a cherub little baby to a child. The boy. The Truest Believer. Peter memorized every detail of his face he could. He tried to probe further for more details, a name, a year, anything.
The strain was too much. It felt as if his very skin was bubbling with the power of the eye. He closed the connection. The heated tingle in his skin still burned. Voices were echoing in his head but instead of fading they grew louder and louder. One above the others was shrieking through the hot white pain that threatened to make him cry out loud.
After a sharp blow to his cheek he realized that it wasn’t an echo of the eye at all still haunting his ears but Y/N hovering above him yelling at him to wake up. His eyes popped open which was a mistake as they immediately began to water with the sting of smoke constricting the air.
“--Idiot will you get up! Get up!” Y/N screamed at him. He coughed through the haze. “Make it stop! Make the fire stop!”
“Fire?” he rasped, “What are…” he could sense it now. A large fire all around him. Focusing through the pain Peter forced the smoke up above the trees. The flames died down into nothing more than faintly glowing embers among the charred camp.
“Oh thank goodness,” Y/N sat back on her haunches next to him. Peter inspected her more carefully and saw that she was covered in a fine layer of soot from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes. Her shining eyes bloodshot from the smoke. Tears streaked through the grime on her face revealing clean lines in their wake.
“What happened?” Peter turned to the camp. The trees were blackened, tents had been turned to ash and Lost Boys lay about hacking up their lungs.
“A fire started. We don’t know how.” Y/N was quick to explain. “We tried to put it out ourselves but it was spreading fast. I went to find you since I knew you were the only one that could put it out. I found you sitting in your tent sleeping calmly among the flames. I had to pull you out so you didn’t get roasted.”
“Thanks,” he muttered as he dusted himself off. Peter winced as he moved. Despite Y/N’s rescue he had seemed to suffer quite a few burns as a result.
“You shouldn’t be moving so much.” Y/N forced him to stay still on the ground, “Half your body is blistered. We’re trying to help everyone that got hurt but everyone’s still in a bit of a frenzy.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Peter waved an aching red hand over his burns. The flesh evened out into fresh and healthy skin without so much as a scar in its place. “Go help the others and find Felix. I want to know how this fire started. I have something I need to put down on paper before I forget.”
Y/N nodded and ran off to help the other injured boys. Peter quickly grafted his skin back to normal and disappeared someplace quiet. This whole fire incident reeked of pirates but he couldn’t be bothered with them right now. He picked up a piece of parchment and let memory take over as he drew the face he had seen in the vision.
~~~
After everyone was properly tended to I found Felix and told him that we were in charge of finding out what or who caused this mess. We had just moved camp, it couldn’t have been the pirates. There’s no way they could have tracked it.
Felix and I questioned the boys that were in camp when the fire started. They all had the same story. They were playing around or sleeping when a large burst of flames erupted from one of the tents. The fire quickly spread from one tent to the next before anyone had time to react.
“Which tent did it come from?” Felix asked.
“The far one over there.” one of the boys pointed to where the biggest damage was.
“Of course it was,” I sighed when I saw the tent was mine, “Why is it always me?”
“What the hell did you have in there? Gunpowder?” Felix snapped at me.
“How is this my fault? The only thing capable of causing a spark is my lantern and I blew that out last night before I went to bed. Besides, it was an explosion of fire how could…” something in the pile of ash moved.
I bent down and dusted the ash away. Underneath the pile was the tiny face of a naked baby bird blinking a pair of sapphire blue eyes back at me. “Now where did you come from sweetie?” I carefully picked it up.
“What is that?” Felix stared at the baby bird in disgust.
“I’m not sure.” the little naked bird studied me for a moment longer before nestling against my chest. “It likes me.” I blew more of the dust off the little thing. I noticed that some of the tiny feathers gleamed white underneath with little hints of red. It also had a golden beak with matching thin legs that tried to stand in my hands.
“That’s just spectacular.” Felix rolled his eyes, “The rat thinks you’re its mother.”
“It’s not a rat. It’s some kind of bird.”
“What bird can start a fire?”
I shrugged. “Cubby knows a lot about animals, we’ll go ask him.” we found Cubby and showed him the bird.
“Yes, that would most definitely be the cause of the fire. It’s a phoenix. Phoenixes self combust into flame near the end of their life and are reborn from the ashes. Must of been what happened with this little thing.”
“But it was in my tent and I think I’d know if a nearly dead phoenix was nesting on my cot. Do you know where it could have come from?” I asked.
“It could also be that it just came into life. Although that could only happen if you had part of a phoenix and mixed it with some kind of life giving magic.”
I stared down at the small bird in my arms. “Oh crap…”
“What did you do?” Felix glared at me.
“I didn’t do it on purpose! I had a phoenix feather I got years ago and my emergency bottle of spring water must have fallen over and dripped onto it. I had no idea this could have happened.” I snapped back at him. “What am I going to do with it?”
“Well from what I know phoenixes have a tendency to imprint on the first face they see which I’m guessing from how fond it is of you, it saw you first.” Cubby gave the bird an affectionate scratch on the top of its head. The bird pecked at his finger in annoyance. “Yeah, she’s all yours.”
“How do you know it’s a girl?”
“The white feathers. Male phoenixes are all red and orange and gold. This beauty has mainly white feathers with reddish golden tail feathers.”
“So I have a pet phoenix now? Great!” I smiled at the little fuzzy bundle cuddled against me.
“Just be careful.” Cubby warned, “Phoenixes are unpredictable and independent creatures. Once it gets old enough who knows what it’ll do. There are tales that say phoenixes kill those with impure hearts. Keep an eye out in case that’s true.”
“I don’t think she’d hurt anybody.”
“She almost killed half of our remaining boys.” Felix reminded me.
“She didn’t know.” I defended my new pet, “She’s just a newborn.”
“A dangerous new born.”
“Well Neverland is a dangerous place. She’ll fit right in.” The phoenix gave out a small melodious chirp. “I think I’m gonna call her Candace.”
“You just become the mother of a powerful phoenix and the best name you can think of is Candace?”
“I don’t need your two cents, Felix. She’s my phoenix.” I took her away to find something to eat. What do phoenixes eat?
As it turns out phoenixes really like the blue berries that grow on the island. For us they make your tongue swell up but to my little Candace she gobbled them up without a problem. After the ash had been swept from the camp and the destroyed trees cleared we began to rebuild the camp. I went back to the remains of my tent and sighed. Everything was gone. My blankets, my cot, my extra set of clothes, even the drawing Peter had drawn for me. It was all gone. The only thing that remained was my little cracked mirror but even now it was too damaged to be used. I never used it much to begin with but still.
“I hope you’re happy.” I grumbled to Candace who was flitting around in the remaining ash, “Everything is gone which means that someone is going to have to leave to get all new supplies. And I just know it’s gonna be me because it started with you and you’re mine so that’s that. You don’t even care. You’re just gonna flap around in the ashes of my tent without a care in the world.”
“Talking to yourself again?” Peter gave a low whistle, “This place is a mess.”
“It’s always a mess and I was not talking to myself. I was talking to Candace.” I pointed to the baby phoenix, “She’s my new pet...she may have also started the fire.”
“Where did you get a phoenix?” he asked looking between Candace and I.
“Long story. Can I keep her?”
“You’re gonna even if I tell you no just make sure she doesn’t start anymore fires.”
“I make no promises.”
“I expected as much. Also you were right, your phoenix did this so you can go get us more supplies.”
“Great.” I looked back at Peter, “You wouldn’t want to come with me, would you? Some time off the island. We could ride horses again.”
He smiled, “That does sound nice. But I need to start bringing in more boys now that I have this.” He held out a roll of parchment. I took it and unrolled it. Inside was a detailed drawing of a young boy. The Truest Believer. “Can’t waste a moment. He could be out there right now.”
“Peter,” I gave him the drawing back, “Now you have to come with me. As a celebration for learning the identity of your saving grace. You, me, steal a couple horses, have a few drinks at the tavern, it’ll be fun.”
“You just want me drunk. I can see it in your eyes. You want me drunk so that you can harass me in the morning when I’m hungover.”
“That obvious?” I mirrored his smirk.
“Just know that if you end up drunk I am going to take advantage of that.”
“That’s the only way you’re getting any from me anytime soon.” I hooked my arm with his as we left to grab a magic bean.
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yoosungshoodie · 8 years ago
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I Found. | Katakura Kojuro (3)
GENRE: angst CHARACTERS: katakura kojuro, date masamune, mc. WARNINGS: none title inspiration from PART ONE AND PART TWO Author’s Note: 2.2k of words and it took me a while to write this because i have a hard time writing scenes when i’m not quite sure what drives a character. i don’t remember much from masamune’s route so it’s hard to write him because, frankly, i have completely forgotten how his character is like. i feel the need to brush up on kojuro’s characterization too. i had a lot of trouble writing this because i’m terrible at executing a character’s motives which is... my own fault, truthfully. nonetheless, please enjoy this, i worked pretty hard on it! tagging @jemchew and @frywen-babbles because if my memory serves correctly they wanted to be tagged. let me know if you’d like to be tagged too!
“You know what I want for you,” Masamune breathed. “You know this isn’t it.”
“You can’t tell me you’re unhappy with my decision when it works in your favor. And how many times have I said that what I want is irrelevant when it comes to you?” Kojuro spoke in hisses now, words firing from his chest without knowledge from his head and he knows he’s in too deep, he knows he’s foolish and awful for allowing a woman to reach deep inside of himself and unravel him. He knows all of this, and yet he does it—he can keep his temper for war councils that weighed on the lives of families and men but he couldn’t keep his composure over a woman.
Fate did not treat well the people who refused to take part in love’s games.
“She misses you, and I hope you’re greatly aware of that.” It’s all that takes for Kojuro to whirl around eyes wide, mouth half opened. Masamune stared back undaunted.
He said quietly, “I’m aware.”
And truthfully, it was the only thing he could manage. Why, he thought, did it have to be her? Because his heart goes through hoops when he sees her and her voice rings in his ears like gunfire, and he can’t stand it anymore when her destiny wasn’t with him—and he knew it, everyone knew it. The room was utterly quiet. He heard the buzzing of insects and the shuffle of the leaves and quiet murmurs of the wind. He swore that if he listened close enough, he would hear the sound of her voice too. Masamune let out a breath, one he hadn’t meant to push outwards.
“I know well enough… to not get into your affairs,” He begins slowly. “But you’re hurting her.”
“I’m painfully aware of that, you have no need to tell me as if you think I don’t know.” Kojuro responds and Masamune knows very well he’s treading as thin as the ice in the garden pond during their winters. He knew very well what he was doing to her because he felt the same kind of pain she did, in the same silent way.
“I wasn’t asserting that you didn’t know.”
“Then why feel the need to mention it?” Kojuro’s voice gets icy and that’s where they draw the line, when Kojuro’s lips took on the shape of something vulgar and alarming. It had been an expression Masamune had seen before on him when he was very much younger, when he knew he was giving Kojuro more trouble than he needed.
“I wish you would be more honest with yourself… and her.”
Hurt warred furiously against the confines of Kojuro’s chest. “I am being honest with her, and I’m doing what’s good for her, you, and everyone else.”
“Except yourself, right?” Kojuro isn’t sure he’s ever heard Masamune’s voice this quiet before. Kojuro turned over to scan the look over in Masamune’s eyes, lips pursed into a thin line of thought. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he knew how to respond to that.
He couldn’t deceive himself; he knew this was going to go around in circles unless Kojuro had put an end to it. It was a battle not worth winning, Masamune trying to push aside his feelings for the sake of Kojuro’s happiness when Kojuro had been doing the same. Tension bore down upon them like the heat of molten metal. What was the point if they both wanted to bow down from this? And what would become of her?
“You speak as if I have a choice in my say.” It’s there Kojuro’s well grown facade cracks, the mask of maturity that he was woven from years of experience allows itself to bend and splinter before his own hands.
“You know what I want for you,” Masamune breathed. “You know this isn’t it.”
“You can’t tell me you’re unhappy with my decision when it works in your favor. And how many times have I said that what I want is irrelevant when it comes to you?” Kojuro spoke in hisses now, words firing from his chest without knowledge from his head and he knows he’s in too deep, he knows he’s foolish and awful for allowing a woman to reach deep inside of himself and unravel him. He knows all of this, and yet he does it—he can keep his temper for war councils that weighed on the lives of families and men but he couldn’t keep his composure over a woman.
This was inexcusable behavior for even him. He was tired of hearing about how he was hurting her when he had known in his heart for so long, he was tired of being out of control when it came to her because it was true that it was all an act, he was tired of hearing about his choice because he already knew the levity of the choice he was to make. Fate did not treat well the people who refused to take part in love’s games.
“I’m trying to help you, don’t you understand that?” Masamune’s voice no longer resides in whispers and breaths. He’s mustered up a voice that even has Kojuro slightly surprised. “And I don’t understand why you’re not taking it, and why you have to be so difficult—”
“Because you love her.” Kojuro said. “Because you love her, so I believe it’s something you don’t seem to understand. Don’t tell me that you’re unhappy with how this all happened.”
Masamune interjects. “I’m not happy with how this is happening.”
“Do you think I do all of this because I simply want to, and because I do as I please? Because I do all of this for the sake of you, that’s the oath I took when I began protecting you. You know—should know—exactly why I’m doing this. And even if I did want those things, I wouldn’t want it like this.”
“Do you think I want it like this, too? She speaks about you so often that for a time, I thought I could serve as a replacement for you and be there for her, but I couldn’t be your substitute. That’s it, that’s what you missed while you were busy ignoring your feelings and hurting hers for the sake of your pride. That’s the only reason she comes to me so often.”
This was new information to Kojuro. He could hear the hurt in Masamune’s voice.
“What you are failing to understand is that she loves you, and you are hurting her for it.” The room fell into a deafening silence Kojuro didn’t even know was possible. It was as if the insects outdoors knew very well that this was a scene to be evaded and they had known better by now than to intrude. Tension bore down heavily upon him, pressing him as if it wanted him to speak more.
He didn’t.
“I’m sorry.” Masamune was the first to speak, voice filled with a tenderness that reeked of apology. Kojuro suddenly couldn’t stand the room any further, even if he’s endured much worse in the likes of running war councils and shaking hands with warlords. You’ve become weak losing your composure like that, he reminds himself. But maybe he had been all along, and he can feel the shame that burrowed down into the slope of his shoulders as he asks to be excused and he is.
He leaves and he finds himself sitting at the river again, the night sky being the only thing to comfort him yet again. Why did it have to be her? He echoed himself as he looked onwards towards the sky. He was right where he started, sitting in darkness and pondering at his own feelings. He wondered if it had anything in common with the fact that he too, was running in circles. Everything was coming in full circle and he still felt the same. His age had no wisdom to lend him yet again, and there’s a disappointment that comes with being unable to move forward and to come to some sensible conclusion that would fix all of this problems. This was much more complicated than war, he thought.
Kojuro finds himself being pulled by the night into sleep, and he follows foolishly like he always does.
“Milord… Milord… Kojuro-sama, please wake up.” A gargled murmur echoes and bounces off his ears. He’s not sure if he’s hearing things right, but he feels rather comfortable for someone who slept in the grass for the night.
It takes him a moment to realize that he wasn’t in the grass, and that what he felt under him was a pillow that cushioned over his head. There’s something—someone, rather—shaking his right arm in a frantic fashion. His eyes flutter open and of course she’s there, brows furrowed and eyes teary as she shook him.
Her breathing halted momentarily when she watched him come to. “You’re awake! What is wrong with you? Sleeping in the dirty grass by the river, who does that? Your bed was not so much as a minute’s walk away and you decide that the grass was a lovely sleeping spot, I was scared that you’d gotten hurt or sick.”
She speaks like a doting mother and he curses himself for thinking that she would be a fantastic mother. He doesn’t want to imagine who’s child she would bear. She’s angry, he knows this, but Kojuro can’t help but allow a laugh to cross his lips when watching her fuss over a wet towel. Her brows crinkle again and he knows he’s in for it
“You,” The words are spoken accusatory as a finger is jabbed in his direction. “Are not allowed to laugh at this. You’ve been ignoring me for so long and then you show up sleeping in soot when the sun rises. I don’t even want to think about your room.”
They both stop breathing. Kojuro knows well so that she masks her sadness at his abandon easily under her beautiful features, pushing it aside for the greater good—his health—in an act of maturity. Maturity that he lacked, so it seemed. He squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment. He could feel his pulse underneath his skin, and it was a discomfort he couldn’t quite seem to quell as the room fell into the same kind of fate.
“Lord Masamune told me something.” Kojuro sat up. He wished he spoke about something else, asked her how the maids were doing, what it was like in the kitchens while he was gone—she always had stories to tell about those—or if she ever got her favorite obi fixed. But his body betrays him and sets him far away from where he wants to be, his voice doesn’t seem to be coming from him anymore because he isn’t himself anymore; who was he?
Who was he, anyways?
“Lord Masamune tells you lots of things. What are we talking about, specifically?” She demanded, eyes glossing over in what he wasn’t sure was ice or fire.
There had been a silence that fell over the room, different from the one he had with Masamune. This was silence had been boiling patiently for weeks, slowly simmering with imaginations of what he would say if this ever happened between daydreams. But those words had only been in the confines of his imagination; and these words were alive and very real. The wind intruded in whispers again and the birds chirped ignorantly outdoors. Leaves dragged across the veranda outside.
“He told me that you love me.”
“That’s what Masamune had to tell you?” She was angry with him, and with a tinge of confusion sweeping over her brows. Kojuro found it somehow comforting that she seemed confused, as if he could find any solace in not being alone in the feeling.
“That’s what he had to tell you for you to figure out, that’s the grand finale? That’s the first thing you want to say to me after refusing to speak to me for so long?”
“He said that you were hurt.”
And she scoffed incredulously, because for all of his knowledge as a strategist he seemed to know nothing about the matters of his own heart.
“Of course I was!” She snapped. “I hear things by mistake and then all of a sudden you’ve decided to cut me out of your life like I don’t matter. You don’t tell me things and then you punish me for finding out, and now you want to confront me about something you’ve overheard when you don’t have any right being in my business; because you made a point to not be involved in it any longer!”
“I didn’t know how you felt.”
“Didn’t know how I felt?” She repeated, and there’s a hollowness to his chest when he hears her repeat his words in such disbelief. “You didn’t ask. You make assumptions for other people and then you assume that’s the right way to go about things, you’re not honest about your own feelings and then you’re dishonest with me. You can't even say your feelings towards me to my face and then you want to confront me about my feelings for you, like you have any right to.”
“I did what I did for Masamune, because I know his feelings towards you.”
“And you don’t know a thing about mine! I’m angry, and I’m angry because I don’t know what you want and I’m just following your orders on your whim. Masamune has feelings for me, you decide I should be with him, you don’t want to talk, we don’t talk! I am not someone you can just make decisions for in this, so stop treating me like I am! I’m not saying that you should fight for me, but what I am saying is that you don’t get to choose what’s good for me and what’s bad for me. I’m saying that I’m done being the last to know and I’m tired of not knowing you or what you want.”
Kojuro’s world pitched violently before him at her words. He took a deep breath. The world straightened.
“So what do you want me to do?” He asked finally.
“Talk to me. Tell me something honest. Tell me something real.”
He paused. Inhaled. Exhaled.
“I love you.”
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