#if you were upset about who died in chapter 1 be upset about who i end up killing off in future chapters instead!
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aaronymous9 · 15 days ago
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HII UHH IMPULSIVE FIC I JUST STARTED!! Don’t know how many chapters it will be?? Probably 10+ and I’m going to space out chapter releases because I’d like to see chapter 2 come out before I finish this one oops probably a bad time to start this but what the hell
Expect more oneshots and other fics soon I guess when I’m artblocked I can write again???
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63150688
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areyouwell · 7 months ago
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Nyctophobia
Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness
Ch.1
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)
Word count: 9.2k
A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go
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How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.
But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.
Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.
You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.
“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.
“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?
“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt. 
“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.
“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically. 
“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.
“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.
“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly. 
“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.
You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.
“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile. 
“Hey.”
“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.
“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought. 
But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.
“Logan!”
Ah, you guess that made sense now.
Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him. 
Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.
You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man. 
“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name. 
“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.
“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.
“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance. 
“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly. 
“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.
Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.
“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”
“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless. 
“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.
“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of. 
You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. 
“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”
Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?” 
“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.
“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned. 
“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level. 
“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”
“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.
“Never gonna live that down, am I?”
“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?” 
“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.
Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.” 
You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.
“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.
“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.
“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.
“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying. 
“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!
“Uh…” Storm started.
“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.
“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.
“You’re fucking kidding me?”
“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.
“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.
“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”
“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.
“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.
“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.
“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.
Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door. 
“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless. 
Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.
“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.
For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless. 
“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly. 
“Nah, not quite.”
“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering. 
Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.
“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”
You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.
“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement. 
“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man. 
“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.
“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.
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Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you. 
Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him. 
Literally.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here. 
He was in huge trouble. 
The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.
He had to remind himself of that. 
“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself. 
You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about. 
If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.
“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling. 
“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”
Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder. 
“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.
“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room. 
“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you. 
“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…
“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return. 
“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.
“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?
Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either. 
Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything. 
“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.
Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little. 
You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion. 
“Whaddya mean it made sense before?” 
“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped. 
“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone. 
“Get it now?”
Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features. 
You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck. 
Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?” 
You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never. 
“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met. 
He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.
“Sure.” He said, before closing the door. 
You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?” 
Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”
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Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it. 
“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.
Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.
“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head. 
“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail. 
“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.
“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more. 
“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation. 
“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.
“But in practice?”
“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths. 
Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.
You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.
“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited. 
Fuck’s sake. 
Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing. 
You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits. 
Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.
Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips. 
“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.
“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.
“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent. 
“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second. 
He really didn’t like you lying to him.
“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.
“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening. 
Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”
Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.
“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.
For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.
“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.
“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”
Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that. 
“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this. 
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It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!
He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking… 
With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time. 
“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?
Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”
You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. 
“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?” 
You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.
“You were a waitress?”
“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands. 
With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.
“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine. 
“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 
Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe. 
“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities. 
“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide. 
“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.
“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.
“Walked into that one…”
“Yeah, you kinda did.” 
You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself. 
“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”
The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.
You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”
“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence. 
“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.
Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.
You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill. 
But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.
“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought. 
Logan was right. That was a good thing.
“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one. 
Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you. 
“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”
Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features. 
“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance. 
“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”
“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.
“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care. 
“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.
“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young? 
“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.
“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.
Yeah. For science.
Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”
“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down. 
“Ya done?”
“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.
“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.
“So what?”
“How’dya make the pasta?” 
You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care. 
As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you. 
“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.
It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.
“I should probably–”
“Look, you should–”
You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care. 
You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours. 
Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.
“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all. 
“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.
But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.
Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.
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vhygoxo · 3 months ago
Text
Twilight New Age
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After inheriting her grandparents house in the Quileute reservation, La Push, Y/N moves to her home rez. Hoping to start a new life she is soon involved with what she thought were just old legends.
Paul Lahote x Reader
Romance | Fantasy | Drama | Angst | 18+
CHAPTER 2
<< CHP 1 | CHP 3 >>
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Y/n gazed out of her kitchen window towards the tree line. Her mind else where as she continued to wipe the same dish over and over. Kim took notice as she raised an eyebrow at her cousin.
“Y/n? Are you alright?” She asked curious making y/n snap out of it. Turning her head to see the worry on Kim’s face she smiled. “Sorry I didn’t get enough sleep last night” she explained easing Kim’s mind.
Kim was spending the night. Both wanted to pull up to the bonfire together. But also get a private visit before anything. Although it was all Kim could focus on y/n‘s mind was scattered.
It had been a few days since she first started dreaming crazy. Ever since that first night and the dream of the girl, Renesmee, she's haunted her mind since.
In the dreams she’s always lost in the woods behind her house. Unsure of why she’s there or what she should do. Stuck in an ocean of darkness until she finds moonlight. The feeling switched between being hunted down or else she was searching for something.
Each time her mind tried to focus on avoiding Renesmee. As long as her legs didn’t give out. She would just run and run until it felt time slowed down.
“So how do you feel about tomorrow? Excited?” Kim questioned her. “Yeah I mean it sounds like fun” although she didn’t sound as enthusiastic as Kim wanted. She wasn’t lying about being excited for tomorrow. It’s just her mind was elsewhere.
“That’s believable” Kim said sarcastically making y/n scoff. “I am Kim really. I need a break from all this packing and unpacking” y/n said with a deep sigh. All she wanted was her dreams to calm down. Kim knew what would perk up her cousin.
“Put down the plate and let’s go sit on the porch” she said holding a joint in her hand. Agreeing instantly the two grabbed blankets and sat down on the bench outside. After a few puffs between them they sat in comfortable silence.
“So how does it feel living here? Must be weird with gramma and grampa out of the house” Kim said as she took the joint back. Y/n nodded her head as she exhaled. “I thought so too but now that my stuff is here… I don’t know it’s just different. I do miss him most days” she said staring out into the field.
The topic of her grandfather brought up her dream last night. Again she was lost being chased by something, and as she ran, her legs began to falter. She knew she couldn’t let herself stop. But she fell to her knees and hands almost instantly.
Again darkness and more darkness. Trees and more trees it never ended she thought. ‘Get up! Get up!’ She cried to herself but to no avail. Like a newborn foal who couldn’t find its footing.
Frustrated she tore at the ground beneath her. Ripping out every root and plant in her path. Clutching down on pine needles she winced in pain. Looking down at her hands upset at herself.
“Are you lost girl?” A voice beamed throughout the air. Searching around she knew who the voice belonged to, her grandfather Quil, he stood in the shadows to the left.
When she spotted him he laughed stepping out of the shadows. He looked like the old man that he was before he died. As he walked past a tree he appeared as his young former self. Shocking y/n as he smiled brightly once more.
Walking deeper in the woods he disappeared into the shadows. His laugh morphing into a howl echoing everywhere. Hearing not two feet leaving but four heavy paws trailing off.
“I desperately need a break from everything right now… I’m excited for tomorrow. Is there anything I should bring?” Y/n said as she took the joint. Passing it back to Kim she smiled “Well I mean you could bring more of this” Kim showed the joint making y/n laugh.
“But other than yourself? No you don’t need to bring anything. Everyone else has it covered” Y/n raised an eyebrow as she finally put the joint out. “Everyone else?” Y/n questioned as Kim realized y/n wasn’t used to her lifestyle.
“I just mean that Emily and Sam usually cover the food part. Sam is mean on the barbecue. Emily does the rest. The boys all pitch in for drinks if they don’t opt to just make jungle juice” Kim explained.
In high school Y/n used to go to bonfire parties in the summer with Quil and Kim. From what she remembers they were lots of fun. One could say maybe even too much fun.
“Yikes I don’t think I’ve had Jungle Juice since highschool” she cringed remembering some unsavoury moments. Kim laughed with her reminiscing. The two enjoyed the rest of the night together. Opting to do skincare masks and pedicures to pass time while visiting.
“Aw I should’ve gotten more earlier” Kim said as she showed her empty bag of w*ed. “Jared usually buys me some but he also smokes it up” she sighed annoyed before pulling out her phone. “There isn’t any dispensaries open this hour” y/n said while looking at the clock it read thirty minutes after six.
“Oh I know I’m texting Quil. He always has” she said with a smile. It didn’t take long for Quil to reply. Letting the girls know if they come over quick he could. He was going to be gone soon so if they didn’t stop by soon they’d miss out. Kim vowed she’d pay him back when she can head into town.
Up for a late night cruise the girls hopped into y/n’s car. Picking a song and turning up the music the two headed out. Luckily Quil’s place was close to y/n’s. As they pulled up they noticed a different car sitting in the driveway.
Kim recognized the car right away. “Who’s car?” Y/n asked Kim as they parked. “Oh that’s Embry’s” she answered as she unbuckled her seat belt before jumping out of the car. Signalling y/n to come with her she felt a bit nervous.
“Don’t worry he’s a good guy. Watch” Kim assured y/n as she knocked on the door. But as quick as her hand left the door Quil answered. “Hey guys” he greeted them as they walked in.
Unsure she gathered herself to enter the living room. There Embry sat at the table, he was tall but had a more slim build, dark skin and hair his eyes looked kind. Her nervousness washing away as their eyes met. Although he still had an underlying intensity to him.
“Embry this is my cousin y/n. She’s just moved here” Quil introduced the two as he rose from his chair. For a slim build under his flannel you could notice his muscles. He grinned at y/n showing off his fangs.
“Hey I’m Embry” he said as he stood beside Quil. “Hi” y/n said as she couldn’t help but blush. Which Quil took notice of as he glared at his brother. Who could only keep his toothy grin on his face while staring at y/n.
“Don’t mind this guy he’s not used to new people” Quil teased obviously annoyed as he ruffled Embry’s hair. Causing him to push off Quil, the two started to laugh, and get more rougher with one another. Startling y/n despite knowing the two were playing.
“Alright—Alright!” Kim said as she pushed past the two breaking them up. “You idiots better smarten up y/n isn't used to your rough housing” The two broke up and smiled before laughing some more. Embry looked down at y/n catching her off guard.
“I’m fine” Y/n said following behind her as the two girls made their way to the table. “I had to wrap it tinfoil I don’t have any plastic bags” Quil said pointing to where it was. Kim picked up the tinfoil making a face of disgust as she scoffed.
Quil shrugged his shoulders as Kim continued. “But this makes it look like I’m a crackhead. Who carries a ball of tinfoil?” Quil groaned as y/n laughed. “It doesn’t look that bad Kim” y/n tried to convince her.
“Hey beggars can’t be choosers” He said to her. It wasn’t long before her eyes lit up again. “Can I at least get a smoke off you ?” She asked and even though Quil looked annoyed. He still grabbed four smokes from his cigarette pack.
Kim thanked him and said she’d get him back. But y/n knew Quil wouldn’t want anything in return when she’d eventually return the favour. Embry on the other hand was eyeing y/n up and down. Kim noticed his eyes as if he was inspecting her.
Embry snapped out of his trance. Putting on a smile on his face trying to ignore Kim’s stare. “So y/n what do you think of the rez so far?” Embry piped up trying to change the subject, while also getting to know y/n, she intrigued him. Catching y/n’s attention as they locked eyes once more.
Quil once more quickly butt in. “She’s been coming here her whole life man. It’s not like it’d be a big change right sis” he stood glaring at Embry. Who took note of Quil’s defensiveness of his beloved cousin. Y/n hardly noticed the interaction but Kim had taken note.
“It’s been great y’know? I’m glad to be back here. Excited for the bonfire tomorrow” y/n replied as Embry had a look of excitement. “Hey I'm glad you’re gonna be there. Yeah it’ll be a good time. Lots of food and drink to go around” y/n nodded in response as he spoke.
Quil and Kim could see the connection between the two. For Quil it pissed him off to see Embry basically ogle y/n. Kim on the other hand was excited for the two and was already plotting for them to become a couple.
The two continued to make small talk. Talking about what each other does for a living, etc. Eventually the conversation turned back to the bonfire party. “Do you play any sports?” Embry asked her.
“Uh—“ she said trying to answer somehow without disappointing Embry. She figured sports would be a great excuse to get close to him. The thing was she utterly sucked hence she was an artist.
“Soccer? Football?—“
“Sorry I don’t play sports. Not since high school” she answered as Embry instead of being disappointed simply nodded his head. “Really? No sports at all? Do you even exercise or move around? Don’t wanna get a hunch back from sitting all the time— Ow!” Quil said as Kim slapped him on his arm.
“I go for runs, Pilates, if I really want to switch it up I’ll do yoga. But not sports sorry not sorry” y/n raised her hands up. Earning a chuckle from Embry and Kim.
“Well that’s fine you can sit and visit with me! I don’t play sports with the boys anymore either. I’ve learned my lesson from last time”
Kim replied as she sat staring into the floor. A moment of silence fell over the three as they remembered what happened. Y/n raised an eyebrow wondering if she should even ask.
“Anyway!— I’ll finally have someone to sit on the side lines with me. Leah always plays and Emily is usually off with Sam when she can” Kim gushed excitedly. “Okay okay let’s save it for tomorrow. Sko’ outside and we can share this before we have to leave. Sam’s expecting us” Quil said as he held a pre-rolled j*int.
The three stood outside Quil’s front deck to light it. The two girls only had a few puffs especially y/n since she had to drive. After a great but quick visit the girls headed out. Bidding goodnight the two went back to the house.
As she drove off she noticed how neither of the men got into their trucks. Instead they ran towards the back of Quil’s house oddly enough. Kim and her spent the rest of the night together eventually falling asleep.
Before going to bed she hoped she would be able to sleep. She was constantly tossing and turning each night. But like every night since she’s moved in her dream was intense.
Sucked right back to where she was last night, on her knees and hands buried into the dirt, unaware of her surroundings. The moon wasn’t as bright as it was the first dream. Instead there were levels to darkness she didn’t realize were possible.
She wondered if her grandfather were in these woods. Or maybe the mysterious girl Renesmee. She wasn’t sure why she was always stuck back to this part of the forest. At this point it was starting to frustrate her. It alarmed her how more lucid it was all becoming.
It always felt as if she was meant to search for something. Find something or maybe even someone. Struggling to figure out what to do she took a moment to think.
Before anything she could hear twigs and leaves crunching. Hearing the weight of something moving beyond what she could see. What truly awaited for her in the dark? Frozen in fear she didn’t even want to turn her head.
She could barely see a few feet in front of her. But as the clouds uncovered the moon it revealed many pairs of eyes. All glaring back at her with intent y/n couldn’t read. All she could do was freeze hoping they wouldn’t attack her.
In front of her eyes she could see the figure moving towards her. Witch each step she clenched in fear. Heart beat rising rapidly, this was a dream, would it even matter if she was attacked or not? For her it all felt way too real.
Out of the shadows was a wolf, which was abnormally huge, it's fur in different shades of grey. It stood still with its head lowered. Their grey eyes intensely focused on her own. And for the first time in a while she felt truly calm. Like she was looking at a part of herself.
All the wolves including the grey one whipped their heads to the right. Noticing something that she couldn’t. A few took off in that direction, the ground shook beneath their paws, showing y/n how heavy these beasts were.
In unison they all howled causing y/n to panic. The rest of the wolves ran past her swiftly. The grey wolf stood still turning back to her. She locked eyes with the grey beast once more, a brief moment of where she felt it understood her, before it took a step towards her.
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She woke up gasping and in a cold sweat. Unsure of what it all meant and why these dreams kept happening to her. There was something bothering her but what was it?
The spirit of her grandfather and now wolves? She couldn’t help but question herself. All she could do is chalk it up to some crazy dreams. Although she hated to just ignore these issues her instincts told her she’d figure it all out soon.
Focusing on the rest of her day she went downstairs. Finding Kim scoping out the fridge. Bidding each other a quick good morning. “Do you have any coffee creamer? I can’t drink coffee without it” Kim asked.
“Ugh y’know what? I forgot to buy some last time I went. Should we just go to the lodge? I heard they have good iced coffee there” Y/n suggested making Kim perk up instantly. “Ou yes they do! I’m down” The two got ready and hopped into y/n’s car.
The lodge was a small diner on the reservation. Back in the day it served as a diner, you could find anything fried there, with a side of grease. But now it was reformed the menu having smoothies, teas, etc. Including a new cafe menu. Y/n hadn’t been there in ages.
The morning sky was beautiful as the sun still gave a warm tint. Orange, yellow, and blue hues filled the sky. There was still a bit of fog from the morning dew. It felt nice to drive around so early.
The two sat in comfortable silence for a bit. Taking a moment to look at their surroundings. While also waking up fully. Although it didn’t take long for Kim to break the silence.
“So~ Embry seemed to have an eye on you yesterday” Kim said as she looked up from her phone. Y/n’s face flushed pink as she smiled slyly. Before shaking her head in disbelief.
“No way you’re just saying that” she couldn’t help but gush at the thought. “I'm being serious! To me it looked like he liked what he was seeing” Kim although she was teasing she was truly being honest.
“Guess we’ll have to see at the bonfire tonight huh?” She said as y/n shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe” y/n said as she didn’t want to completely dismiss the notion of Embry liking her. She couldn’t deny he was handsome.
“You’ll be able to get to know him more after tonight. He’s always with Quil nowadays. This is coming from someone who’s lived here my whole life” Kim continued about how close Quil and Embry are.
As she drove she looked to the sides of the road. It felt like there was something in her peripheral line of sight. Moving along with her but every time she turned there was nothing. Hoping it wasn’t deer coming too close to the road.
“Look we barely met last night. He’s cute and all but I don’t think I have time for a boyfriend right now”
“Cmon y/n if anything you have all the time in the world right now! You’ve been crying around for a break well I think this is it. Wouldn’t hurt to have a boyfriend to have some fun with. Y’know? Stress relief?”
Kim said making y/n laugh but she knew she was being serious. “Is that what Jared is for? Stress relief?” Y/n teased as Kim immediately stopped talking and pouted.
“Hey me and his connection is more than just being sex fiends! We’ve been together for six—actually almost seven years now! We’re high school sweethearts—“
“Kim I just—“ Y/n tried to cut in and calm her down but Kim continued on. The shadow figure in the corner of her eyes flickered closer. Y/n’s attention started to focus purely on the road. She sat in a cold sweat gripping the steering wheel.
“I think our connection is something to be admired. Honestly! What me and him have is rare no one can tell us otherwise! I’m just trying to help you dear cousin find something close to what I have! And I strongly feel Embry might just be the one—“
With a sharp gasp y/n swerved off the road to avoid Renesmee. Who stood suddenly in the centre of the road. Kim whose head was turned looking at y/n missed the sight. The car swerved and turned as y/n pulled onto the side.
Y/n slammed the brakes and parked. “What the hell?!” Kim cried out as she sat in her seat shocked. Thankfully both were wearing their seatbelts she thought. Luckily they didn’t hit anything either or else it would’ve been worse.
“Did you not see that girl? Holy shit!” Y/n said as she panted heavily shaking in fear. Her hands sweaty, realizing how tight her grip was, she let go and rubbed her hands. “What girl?! There’s no girl?!” Kim said while scanning the area. There was no sign of the girl anywhere.
The two felt the after math of the whiplash of turning abruptly. Kim rubbed her neck sorely as she frowned. Y/n was still shaking from her shot nerves. She closed her eyes and shook her head thinking of what she just seen.
“I don’t know what the hell just happened. I swear there was a girl right in the middle of the road! She was just looking dead straight at the car. I thought she was going to jump! How could you not have seen her?”
“I don’t know! I was just—Well I don’t think we hit her… Did we?”
Kim questioned as the two looked at one another. Both went out and looked around. There was no sign of the girl anywhere including the car. With nothing on the grill Kim felt something was off. As the two got back into the car she questioned her.
“Did you see what the girl looked like?”
Y/n hesitated saying Renesmee’s name. How could she explain to Kim, “oh yes the girl Jacob was with”, without sounding crazy? “Tall, thin, and pale with brown wavy hair” y/n tried to be as vague as possible.
For Kim her mind started to turn. Y/n on the other hand was surprised Kim believed her. After a few seconds it clicked for Kim. There was no way it wasn’t Renesmee, after her and Jacob’s big arrival, there was only one vampire in town.
It wouldn’t be long before her family would follow. Kim knew she needed to alert Jared right away. Y/n noticed Kim’s behaviour change from surprised to serious. Kim turned to face her calmly, which in a strange way, comforted y/n immensely.
“Let’s just say it was a deer. Okay? I’m sure it was with how much wild life there is here… in the meantime we should get going… I needed my coffee like yesterday” Kim said finishing off with an encouraging smile.
Y/n who was still shaken up struggled to put her seat belt back on. But agreed with her nonetheless. She wanted to get away from this road at this point.
“Do you want me to drive?”
“No I’ll be okay. Just a bit shaken up but breakfast will cheer me up”
As the two gathered them selves for breakfast. Y/n pulled out and continued down the road. Although Kim felt her cousin was handling herself. In y/n’s mind all that she could think of was the cold eyes of Renesmee.
Kim struggled to think of why Renesmee would do this. She had hardly knew the girl. But she did know she was a vampire, that’s all she needed to know, all she could think was that she was hunting. Hoping she was a vegetarian like her family.
The thought of y/n somehow being on the menu for Renesmee terrified her. She knew she needed to keep y/n close to her side. At all costs even if y/n somehow got tired of her she decided.
Arriving at the diner it was a comfort for y/n. The building held a lot of close memories for her. It was also nice to just sit down and relax. Kim knew she needed to call Jared sooner than later.
“So I was thinking about tonight, and I wanted us to have a bit of fun before we leave, how about I get Jared to drive us? He can be our DD and you don’t have to worry about driving?” Kim was sincere on this offer. Jared wouldn’t mind knowing him Kim thought.
“You sure? I mean it’s no issue…Did I scare you that much earlier? I’m sorry I just swear I seen that girl. She was so close to hitting the car I panicked—“
“No no you’re good there I believe you! I still trust you and your driving skills. But like I said I wanted us two to pregame at least. Can’t pregame and drive at the same time”
Y/n thought of it as Kim was already texting Jared. “Y’know what? Sure why not” y/n agreed as she smiled while Kim got up from her chair. “I’m gonna call and ask him now. The sooner the better with that guy” she joked while heading outside.
“I’ll be back in time to order” she said to y/n before Jared picked up. Kim quickly told him the situation, about how they seen Renesmee, although he didn’t show it Jared was stunned. Kim knew it as soon as he became serious.
“I’m going to be honest with you Quil told us about her already. But I’ll look into where Renesmee was this morning. I’ll be by to pick you guys up around six” he promised explaining where he was currently.
Y/n sat inside deciding what she wanted to order. With their coffee already served she enjoyed the hot cup. Although it was already a chaotic morning she didn’t want to let it ruin the day. She had a lot to look forward to.
Kim made her way inside eventually. The two ordered and enjoyed their breakfast. Sitting in a booth by the window y/n enjoyed the view. All until two figures came out of the distant fog. A woman and man both tall, broad, and skinny.
She looked curious at the two as they came out of the tree line. Walking on the road towards the diner, it was obvious the woman was getting after the man, who looked younger the more close he got. The two walking in a fast stride together as she roughed up the young guy.
The woman had short black hair and a beauty she’d never seen before. Wearing a black leather jacket and ripped jeans her figure looked flawless. Even under such baggy clothes her slim body looked like a models.
The young guy didn’t look a day over eighteen. With tan features as warm as his smile. He wore only a cut off sweat shirt and denim shorts. Despite it being the beginning of the year. It was hardly spring with how cold it still was.
It was funny watching the two obviously bicker and fight. But also it was so early where were they walking from y/n thought? The two wore regular sneakers so it wasn’t like they were hiking. She couldn’t help but be curious over the two.
Kim noticed the strange look on y/n’s face. Looking back she seen Leah and Seth Clearwater walking in. In her heart she knew why the two were truly there. “Hey guys” she greeted the two siblings as they came to the table.
“Good morning” Seth said as he wore a joyful expression. Y/n felt stunned by the two especially the woman. Who wore a stoic expression as she nodded to Kim. “Who’s this?” Leah asked while looking at y/n.
“Remember that cousin I was talking about? Well guys this is her, her names y/n, she just moved back. Y/n this is Leah and her little brother Seth” Kim smiled as the two eyed her down. Seth’s eyes were kinder Leah’s was defensive and curious.
“Hi” y/n said nervously as Seth grinned. “Hi I’m Seth! Good to see a new pretty face around here—“ he said before Leah nudged him with her elbow harshly. Making him cough as Leah finally smiled at her.
“Yeah It was nice meeting you y/n. Kim we’re just gonna pick up our food and head out. Do you…?” Leah trailed on hoping Kim would take notice. Subtly hinting around if she needed any help. Kim knew Jared must’ve sent her to check on them.
“No I’m good. We’ll see you later” Kim said trying to dismiss them before y/n noticed anything. “Hope to see you at the party later y/n!” Seth tried to get out before Leah pushed him around.
“Hey yeah I hope to see you there y/n. It’ll be good to have another girl to visit. I wish we could stay and chat now but we’re on a tight schedule” Leah smiled making y/n feel more comfortable. Smiling in return she made Leah’s heart skip a beat. “Haha yes I’ve heard that before. We’ll see you guys there” y/n joked as Leah was instead being pushed out by Seth.
“Let’s go before Sam notices we left” Seth ushered Leah as the two grabbed their bags. Sneaking a quick breakfast sandwich on their patrol shift. The two bid goodbye before walking back the same way.
“Where are they even going? They legit just came out of the woods” y/n questioned as Kim’s eyes widened. She didn’t think she would notice them. “Uhh well they like walking—“ Kim choked a bit on her food “They live close near here. Y’know it’s not that weird most people from the rez walk everywhere” she tried to explain.
Y/n shrugged it off as the two paid for their meals. Kim loves her dear cousin, it was horrible she had to hide who she was, and what type of life she truly led. She wondered how long before the veil comes off.
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The house was filled with music as y/n’s speaker played loudly. Luckily her closest neighbour was all at least 1-2 kilometres away. The two sat up in y/n’s room as she scanned through her closet.
“I feel like I need new clothes. I mean what can I wear? It’s so cold out you can’t really dress cute” y/n complained as she continued skimming through her closet. Kim sat on the edge of the bed filing her nails. She sighed and put down the file.
“True but I’m sure I can figure something out if you want me to look”
“It’s okay I think I got an outfit lined up. What are you going to wear?” She asked Kim as she perked up from her seat. “I have this really cute jacket I wanna wear. Some jeans and maybe a pair of boots” Kim continued. Eventually fading to background noise for y/n as she sighed.
In y/n’s mind the flashes of Renesmee’s eyes kept haunting her. How she appeared in her dream. All morning she had been trying to shake off the stressful feeling. It must’ve showed on her face since Kim looked worried to her.
“Don’t worry from what I’ve seen in your closet you’ll be fine. Actually I know you’ll be looking *fine”* Kim assured y/n as she grabbed her hips. Y/n giggled but then turned back to being serious.
“It’s not the outfit I’m worried about… it’s just this morning…” Y/n felt as if her mind was cloudy. All attempts of moving and brushing it off seemed futile. Kims eyes widened as soon as she mentioned Renesmee.
“That girl? Y/n—“
“Look I don’t expect you to fully believe me. I know how I sound…But it’s just I feel like everything is catching up to me”
“Everything?” Kim questioned as she looked upon her cousins weary face. She slowly approached her as y/n looked up. “I’ve been dreaming crazy lately. I don’t know how to explain it. But I’m having a hard time trying to explain and understand it all myself” y/n sighed this time more solemnly.
“Look I get it… Things have been crazy for you lately what with grandpas death, Inheriting this house to yourself, living in a new place. But I think you just need to take a moment. Gather yourself and let’s have a good time together. Right? When was the last time you and I had fun together besides last night? Tonight is just one night you can forget all your other worries”
Kim encouraged y/n which did help her a lot. Y/n looked up at herself in the mirror with Kim behind her. Who smiled as she hugged her from the back. Y/n held onto her arms as the two looked at one another in the mirror.
“You’re right… Everything in my life has been so serious lately. It’ll be a fun night tonight” y/n said honestly as Kim grinned brightly. “See? That’s the spirit! It’ll be great, I’ll introduce you to everyone, we’ll have a lot of laughs” Kim stepped away to grab one of y/n’s jackets off the rack.
“And I think you’ll look hot in this” she said making y/n laugh. “Well we should get ready soon right? Isn’t Jared coming by soon?” y/n said making Kim realize the time. She nodded as she pulled out her phone. Seeing her missed notifications from Jared.
“Very true. I gotta answer him actually he’s tried calling me once already” Y/n nodded as Kim left the room heading downstairs. Stepping out onto the porch Kim made sure y/n couldn’t hear. Once she knew y/n wasn’t in earshot she got her phone. After the first ring Jared had answered Kim.
“Hey”
“Hey there handsome. So what did you find?” Kim asked as she leaned against the porch railing. Jared sighed as he slammed the truck door. Tired as he walked inside Sam’s house.
“So we know Jacob and Renesmee are back in town. Sam’s all uptight because we know the Cullens aren’t far behind. I just got back from seeing Jacob actually” Kim cut in almost immediately. “What did he say?” She asked eagerly waiting for him to answer.
“—Well all I know is Renesmee has been with him this whole time. She hasn’t left his sight since they got here”
“What?” Kim asked confused, she thought y/n had seen her today, who else could move that fast? “Yeah Jacob swears she’s been home. I did my part and got the info out of him. Now you gotta explain why. Are you in trouble? Don’t tell me something happened with a vampire—”
Jared asked worried sick, because why would his beloved ask about a vampire, when he knew she could care less about them? Kim shushed him over the phone as she stepped further from the house.
“—Look we’re both fine! I can’t really explain at the moment. Maybe later when the timing is better. But for now thank you for the intel. And again we’re both fine! Perfectly fine! I’m busy with my cousin y/n right now remember? We’re tryna get ready for the party. On that note are you gonna—“
“Yes I’ll be coming by in a bit here to pick up the both of you. Let’s say in an hour? I still gotta do a patrol check before the other guys swap in” Jared answered before she could even finish. The two operated on the same wave length since forever.
For Kim it was always a lovely feeling when they were in sync. She smiled ear to ear as she thanked him. Before promising something special for him later tonight. Which made Jared smile the same way.
“But you’re sure you and y/n are okay? I can come by now—“
“Thank you! Love you I’ll see you in a bit” Kim said blowing a few kisses before hanging up. Jared sighed as he put his phone away. Kim decided to brush off the whole Renesmee ordeal. Because really it could’ve been anyone in front of the car. All that mattered to Kim was no one was hurt or killed.
On the other hand she was worried for her cousin. Kim knew she wasn’t crazy but something in her gut told her, y/n was going through something, Kim trusted she’d get to the bottom of it. Opting to watch over y/n closely from now on.
Jared arrived when he said he would. His pickup truck roaring loud announcing his arrival. Hopping in the truck y/n prepared herself for the whole ordeal. Wondering who else she’ll meet tonight.
The sky was filled with baby blues, soft orange hues, and pink highlights. As the sun was getting close to sunset it was already so colourful outside. The three chatting as Jared drove music blasting.
Pulling up she could see a group of people running around the beach. They were dressed as if it was summer. Shorts and hoodies some even wore cutoff shirts. Kicking around a soccer ball playing a game.
The three got out of the truck as Kim linked arms with y/n. Making her feel even more comfortable. At the main fire there were logs people were sitting on. One woman and one man sat together, rising up once they approached, the rest stopped playing and made their way to the fire.
“Hey guys” Kim said as the two people made their way to greet them. The woman had a scar right across her face but it didn’t affect her beauty. With dark soft straight hair, beautiful cheekbones, she was tall around 5’7. Y/n felt her self taken away by her beauty but was quickly overtaken by the man who was at her side.
The man was huge, at least 6’5-6’6 he stood with broad shoulders, looking fierce which made y/n feel intimidated. Black hair with eyes that matched he held the scarred woman close to her side. Giving off a very intense feeling to y/n.
“Hey glad you guys made it” the woman said as the two smiled. “Guys this is my cousin I’ve been talking about. Say hi~” Kim said as the rest of the group arrived. Rushing in as a huge pack they surrounded the three.
“Hey I’m y/n” she said as the group roared in excitement. From the group she could recognize was Quil, Leah, and Seth. No sign of Embry but a whole pack of rowdy boys eager to meet y/n. Before being able to mutter another word the boys spoke over each other.
“So you’re the new girl?—“
“Finally a new face pretty one at that—“
“New girl? I thought she was Kim’s cousin—“
“Do you play soccer?—“
The man with the scarred woman gave a glare to the group. Before anything they all straightened themselves out. As he turned back he gave a kind smile, so did the woman, as they reached out to give a handshake.
“Don’t mind these boys they’re just excited. I’m Emily and this is my Fiancée Sam” she said as the two shook y/n’s hand. “We’re glad you made it. Kim and Quil spoke great things about you” Sam replied. Both gave off a warm welcome making y/n feel more at ease.
“Thanks for the invite” y/n gave a small smile as the crowd was stifling excitement. “No problem. We’re happy to have new people around. Hope you’re thirsty and hungry there’s plenty to go around” Emily waved her hands to the area.
Before she could take another step Seth rushed forward. Blocking the way as he smiled brightly. The crowd of boys circled around him as an even bigger blockade. Kim and Leah expressed their annoyance with a loud “ugh” as Kim crossed her arms.
“So y/n these are my bros lemme show you. We got Brady, Thomas, and Damien here” Seth introduced the boys. All whose face showed their youth but their bodies showed otherwise. With stern expressions and tight lips they scanned y/n.
The three boys outside of Seth looked around his age. All had dark thick hair, with lean tall figures, and tan skin. Shuffling up to the front were the younger boys. Faces whose expressions were a mix of either excited or nervous.
“This is Colin, Don, and Lil’ Ricky” Seth said as he ruffled up “Lil’ Ricky’s” hair messily. “My names Rick you’re the only one who calls me Lil’ Rick” he argued under Seth’s rough housing. “Ricky Rick!” Colin chimed in as he joined Seth. Eventually the boys continued to all rough house on one another.
“Uh— Great meeting you guys” Y/n said nervously as she watched the chaos ensue. They didn’t look too different from one another, with boyish youth they were still small, lanky with lean bodies. Although they were quite tall for their ages they were still shorter than the rest of the guys present.
“Jesus Christ—“
“For fucks sake—“
Quil and Jared exclaimed as they cut them off quickly. Quil shoved himself into the middle of the blockade. “Alright that’s enough! You guys have to settle” he said before Leah joined in. “Yeah Seth chill out! Go play with these stink boys” she said as her and Jared grabbed them by the collars.
“You guys don’t even play right just straight dirty. My sis here doesn’t need you guys being rough with her“ Quil barked as the boys just bashfully laughed. “That’s this guy sending dirty kick shots” Thomas said to Don who began to argue once more.
Leah expressed her frustration by sighing, giving a glare to Seth, he took the hint. Shoving the rest of them in the direction of the play area. They just shrugged their shoulders and dusted them selves off. Still giggling and laughing as they went to continue the game.
“Sorry about that they’re usually not that… Well they don’t usually act like this” Sam said trying to excuse their behaviour. “It’s no issue. A little too much excitement maybe?” Y/n joked making the rest of the group laugh. “I mean I’m not much a soccer player anyways” she shrugged her shoulders.
“Great! You can sit with me and tell me all about yourself” Emily said as she ushered in y/n to the campfire. Settling into the campsite they all began to visit. Asking y/n where she’s from and what she likes.
“So you’re an artist? Professionally?” Emily asked surprised. “Yes it’s what I’ve been doing since I’ve been young, maybe 17-18, around there. I work and have trained to use most mediums”
Y/n continued since everyone seemed interested. Emily especially as she piped up in excitement. Which was a change from her usual nonchalant expression everyone else was used to
“That’s awesome. I’m an artist too” Emily said with a faint blush on her face. As Sam smiled with pride as he leaned on her. “Really?” Y/n asked glad to find a friend with similar interests. “Oh yes she’s one of La Push’s greatest artists” He proudly proclaimed.
“What type of art do you make?” She asked Emily earnestly. “I’m a weaver, I’m also a teacher, I teach kids weaving at the school here in La Push” Emily continued as Y/n was eager to hear more.
The two clicked together quite easily, finding a lot of each other in one another, in such a small amount of time. The rest of the group which was Sam, Jared, Kim, Leah, and Quil visiting one another. While the rest of the boys continued to play.
Eventually the group grew into a comfortable formality. The time passed like no other as the sun started to set among the horizon. The boys could no longer play without seeing. So they joined the others at the bonfire.
At this point all were fighting for the chance to talk to y/n. Kim and Quil had to remind everyone to settle every now and then. Since y/n sat being bombarded by questions. In all honesty y/n didn’t mind much, it was fun being around so much excitement, she appreciated how friendly and close everyone was.
“I heard you girls had quite the wild morning” Jared chimed in as everyone seemed to already know what happened. Given their reaction y/n could only nod in agreement. “Oh really?” Emily asked curiously as Kim gave a wild look to Jared.
Flashbacks of Renesmee’s eyes flooded y/n’s brain. So much for trying to rid herself of her worries y/n thought. Her anxiety about it all started to rise again. She wondered how much Kim revealed to everyone.
“Yeah it was crazy almost hitting that deer right y/n?” Kim said giving y/n the look of ‘just agree’. Y/n nervously laughed as she once again nodded. “It really was crazy I mean I’m glad no one was hurt” she said which was true for y/n anyways.
The group erupted once more with a hundred more questions. Intrigued by the idea of her and Kim “drifting” around early this morning. Kim and y/n stared at each other as Kim gave an apologetic look. A “Sorry I tell my boyfriend everything” type of look y/n would soon become familiar with.
“It all happened so fast I’m surprised y/n was able to stop safely” Kim continued as everyone looked at the two. “I’m sure you’re shaken up by that. I totally would be if I were you” Emily added as Sam pulled her closer.
Y/n hesitated to answer, trying to ease hee never slightly before she did, giving a reassuring smile to the group. “I mean I feel okay right now. I’d be way different if I actually hit the poor animal” she said causing Leah and Seth to laugh at the poor animal comment.
“Yep but they’re pretty shaken up I had to pick up these poor girls. Save them from driving and hitting another sucker” Jared cockily teased. Kim gutted him with her elbow making the group erupt in laughter.
“Oh please that was you crying to pick us up! Besides you’re just the DD tonight! Me and y/n are gonna have some fun and be drunk as fuck while we do it right y/n?”
“Wha?—Uh? I mean yeah—“ y/n said surprised before Leah cut her off “To getting drunk as fuck!” She yelled. Getting everyone hype even the young boys who couldn’t even drink yet. Emily and Sam gave each other a look before the two laughed shaking their heads.
Sam and Emily started to offer the group alcohol. Which had been sitting in the coolers on ice while they ate and visited. Different beers and coolers sat on the ice. Although y/n was wanting one she hesitated.
Seeing that some of the boys present weren't of age. She was nervous if the group would allow them to drink or not. Seeing the reaction Quil responded. “Don’t worry these boys are gonna go home soon. Just waiting for the rest to come before they take their rides home” as Quil finished one of them reached for a beer.
Before anything it was smacked out of their hand from Sam. “Smarten up these aren’t for you. I put Pepsi and other drinks in the other cooler” he sternly said as the boys pouted. Reaching into the cooler full of soda instead.
“Do you even drink y/n? Or are you just trying to be shy” Leah asked already sitting with an open beer. As if it were a challenge Leah stared down at her. Y/n laughed as she shook her head. “God no” she reached for a cooler making Leah give an approving smile.
In all honesty y/n had started to get that alert feeling again. She felt comfortable with the group. But she knew that wasn’t the cause of it. It was something else she couldn’t control.
Totally outside of her dreams, Renesmee, the nervousness of meeting new people, it was a different feeling entirely. At least this alcohol would help ease the weird feeling rising in her body.
As she cracked into it, the group of boys stood up suddenly, y/n didn’t notice until she looked up. Before she knew it there was a group of four men coming at them. Running across the beach from the tree line.
Y/n thought it was strange considering how late the hour it was. She felt the back of her neck tingle, the hairs on her body standing up all over, although she had yet to take even a sip.
The boys rushed out to greet the four men. But at closer look it was two young boys, Embry who finally showed up, and some other guy who she couldn’t see fully. Blocked by the crowd of rowdy boys in from of them.
The two older ones, the stranger and Embry, were talking with the boys. A gruff unfamiliar voice that scolded them about “getting their asses straight to their home base”. As Embry roughed housed one of the young boys.
To y/n the voice reminded her of an almost military command. ‘Good luck trying to get these boys to listen’ she thought as she took a sip of her drink. But to her surprise they all did as they all argued on who would drive.
Heading up to the trucks in a frenzy she watched in awe. Amongst them she could see the stranger but not clearly. As him and Embry made their way to the fire, their younger brothers rushing around them, the closer they came the more her heart paced.
“Don’t worry those are my brothers” Sam assured y/n sensing the uneasiness coming from her. She nodded as she awaited for Embry to at least join the group. One of the biggest reasons she wanted to come was to talk to Embry.
The rest of the group stood up to greet the four men as they approached. “They all may look big and scary but they don’t bite. Trust me” Emily said as a way of comforting y/n. She smiled to assure Emily but struggled to shake off the weird feeling she had.
As she stood up her line of sight met with him, breath taken away as he stared into her and her whole being, with intense black eyes and a wild look. Y/n stood frozen in place as soon as they saw one another.
She felt like a deer in front of headlights. But unlike the deer afraid of the headlights, and what they stood for, she welcomed it. For it was a feeling like no other. Wanting to bask in the light forever.
Time seemed to stop as she and this man looked at one another. Nothing else around mattered, it all drowned and faded out slowly, as she watched the man’s breath steadily become stronger like a pant.
Taking in his features he stood tall with strong broad shoulders. Tan brown skin with black coarse short hair. Full eyebrows that furrowed as he scanned her as well. He had rugged but handsome features. All which made y/n’s heart skip a full beat.
She had never felt such a strong intensity, such a strong need and desire, for a man like she did now. It was as if her feet and everything else were pulling herself to him. It was there and then she realized why she had been feeling this way for so long. Or at least her instincts told her so. He took a step towards her, lifting his hand slightly, everything in her seized ready for what was to come.
But upon seeing the man snap his head away, stepping backwards, his brothers tried to urge him to settle. She felt a tinge of pain and something that felt like rejection rush through her. As the men around him tried to make him stay.
Time and reality came crashing down onto y/n. Sucking the air back into her lungs she could hear noise coming back to her. As Emily and Kim rushed to her side, not realizing she was staggering backwards as well, Kim latched y/n’s arm under her own.
“Y/n! Jesus are you okay? You’re basically stepping into the fire. And you almost dropped your cooler” Kim asked as y/n tried to understand what just happened. Hearing the yells of Quil and his brothers calling out for the man. She looked up trying to find him among the group of men.
“I’m gonna take these boys home. I’ll be right back” he answered as he walked up to the boys trucks. “Paul!” They continued to cry out loudly as he gave one last look to y/n. Stopping for a moment just to look at her.
She somehow wanted to stop him. Maybe if she cried out like his brothers he’d stop she thought. Before he shook his head in disbelief storming away to the truck. Y/n began to feel a deep ache in her chest as she sat back down. Reminded of how much a stranger she truly is to them all.
Emily and Kim attempted to comfort y/n as she watched him pull away. As if they knew what she was feeling exactly. Taking the group of boys home in a hurry, spitting rocks as he pulled out, the guys left behind groaned.
“And that was my brother Paul” Sam said defeated by his behaviour. Giving a big sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “He’ll be back” he added as y/n stared off into the distance. Trying to cope with what she all just experienced.
Y/n realized how crazy she seemed right now. Shaking her head in disbelief she couldn’t believe herself! Since when did she ever want to run into a man’s arms? A stranger at that. It was totally unlike herself.
Embry came and sat by her at some point. But she was too distracted to give him her full attention. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Left in a state of confusion. Instead she remembered Leah’s words from earlier. Continuing to finish the rest of her cooler drink.
Reminiscing the wild look in Paul's eyes her heart paced loudly. She hated herself at how much she craved to know him. Was that all it’d take for her to be impressed? She refused trying to keep herself in check.
All she could do was build up courage for when he returned. What face should she make? Should she even introduce herself? Why was she thinking about it all so hard? Most of all did he experience what she felt as well?
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End of chapter 2, we finally get to meet Paul, although I’m sure not much expected this reaction. I took some extra time in between editing with adding more characters to the wolf pack. Since we’re told in both the book and movie there��s around seven more members. But the only names we know is Colin Littlesea and Brady Fuller. More to come in the future with both the wolves and vampires. Don’t be shy to leave a comment in the meantime 🫶😌
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sashaisready · 4 months ago
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Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Series Masterlist
After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.
(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)
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Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.
🍂
It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.
Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.
You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:
Beloved parents taken too soon,
Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter
You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.
Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…
As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.
It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.
About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.
You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.
You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.
You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.
“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.
You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.
🍂
A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.
“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.
“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”
You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.
You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.
You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.
You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.
“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.
You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…
“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.
He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.
There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…
“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…
“Get away from there!” he snarled.
You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…
“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.
“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.
You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.
“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”
“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.
Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.
What was his goal here, exactly?
Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?
And where did you know him from?
Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!
“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”
“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.
You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.
Where had you seen that look?
“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”
You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.
He wasn’t from the market…
It was him.
Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.
Oh!
Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.
It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?
The Winter Soldier.
Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.
Barnes.
As in…son of Winnifred and George?
Ah.
He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.
“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.
You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”
You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.
You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.
You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.
As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.
🍂
Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…
But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…
You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.
You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.
You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.
You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.
“Hey,” it said.
It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.
It was him again.
“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.
He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…
…hot?
Fuck.
He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.
You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.
The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.
After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.
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so-so-woso · 1 year ago
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i wanna be the one | part 1
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Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.
Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol
Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.
Word Count: 3,284
London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.
Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.
You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.
It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.
You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.
That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.
“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.
You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.
“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.
“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.
“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”
“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”
You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.
Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.
The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.
By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“
“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”
A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”
“Four.”
“Two.”
“Three?”
“Two, McCabe.”
“Two and shots?”
“…”
“Two…and shots?”
“…one shot.”
“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”
A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.
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Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.
“You always this quiet?”
You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.
“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”
You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.
“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”
That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.
“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.
The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.
“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.
“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”
You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.
“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.
“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”
“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”
Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.
You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.
Yep. You fucked up.
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wasawattpadkid · 2 years ago
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Housewife
Part - 10
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, mention of suicide,
Part 1
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"Did Neil Prescott attack you with the ghostface costume on?"
"They've yet to close the case on the murders. Do you think Neil could've had a partner?"
"Was is hard watching your girlfriend die in front of you?"
The reporters spit inappropriate questions at Billy from the moment he stepped out of his car. He was more than happy that he got away with it but he found it a little annoying someone else was getting all the credit for his well executed plan. Billy threw his his backpack on barley missing the healing wound underneath his polo.
He passed by the reporters pushing some of them out of the way. Surprisingly no one bombarded him with questions when he entered first period. He heard whispers as he walked the halls. They didn't bother him at first. Billy lived through it, he got the front row seat most of them would kill to have. The boy kept his head down as he walked into his first period class. "It was Stu's house I know he had something to do with it." One of the boys said talking with his friends. Billy listened into the conversation. He was a nosey person by nature. "That doesn't mean he did it. I mean Sydney's dad was a wack job after his wife slept with half the town."
Billy nodded to himself. "I don't know something seems fishy with how close Stu and that new chick were." If you were close with anyone it was Billy. He was just careful about showing affection in public because shit like this happenes. People talk. "They were probably fucking and Tatum found out, everything went side ways." The group of three started laughing as the teacher shut the classroom door. Billy wasn't keen on hearing people talk about you or Stu but Stu had thick skin. Words never really bothered him much.
"You know we all would've died if Y/n didn't call the cops when she did." Billy snapped his tone a little too assertive. The class grew quiet everyone hearing what the boy had to say. Even the teacher was quiet not wanting to upset Billy more than he already was. "Class I know that these last few weeks have been traumatic for some more than others. However it would be beneficial to everyone if we continued on with our unit."
Billy went through the day with his keeping his eyes on the ground. He started to realize how hard it was to get through the day without Stu by his side going on and on about something he really didn't care about. The lunch bell rang and like clockwork all the kids flooded the hallway. For the most part Billy was completely ignored except for a few wide eyes stares in the hallway. For a second he forgot about what he had done. He saw the fountain being occupied by two girls. The freshman girls looked at Billy like he was a celebrity. "Oh my god Billy Loomis. I didn't think you'd come back so soon. Are you okay?" The blonde student rambled on stumbling over her words.
"Move." He was a man of few words. "I'm sorry about Syd- wait what?" She asked as her friend started picking her things up. "Are you deaf or something? Get out of my fucking spot." The girls hurried to grab their things. "This is where we sit everyday are you fucking blind?" He yelled causing people around to stare at the scene. "I-I'm s-sorry..." The kid stuttered scared of the boy in front of her. "Duh- duh- duh- get the fuck out of here." Billy spat nearly making the girl cry. Silently her friend grabbed her hand pulling her towards the building.
He could feel the eyes of those around him tearing into his slim frame. Billy sat on the concrete slab where he always did. No Sydney, no Tatum, no Randy, no Stu, and no you. His peers just watched the boy have a mental breakdown. It was lonely being alive. It wasn't the lack of people that was upsetting, it was the quiet. Running a hand through his messy hair he jumped up. "Fuck this."
You had never felt so good on a Monday. Your wound barley hurt with a little help from the pain killers. "Elvis really?" Stu questioned as you pulled the record out of it's sleeve. "You're not an American if you don't like Elvis." He pulled his lips into a straight line. "Consider me Canadian." Your rolled your eyes sitting the needle down. "Did you know he came in his pants during one performance?" Stu crinkled his nose at the unwante information. "That is fucking disgusting. Tell me more." You laughed laying on your bed next to him.
Billy blasted his radio choosing to listen to the burnt CD Stu made him a few weeks ago. Sad whiney alternative rock seeped through the speakers. It did nothing to help his mood but he wanted to sit and wallow in his self pity for just a little longer. It wasn't a very long drive to your house which saved him gas. If he had to guess you were probably laid up in pain waiting for someone to come and help you. And if you weren't going to answer his calls he'd do the chivalrous thing by showing up unannounced.
You held your sides as Stu danced around doing his best Elvis impression. "Stop it's so bad." You cried with laughter barley able to get the words out. You heard a faint noise downstairs grabbing your attention. "Wait, shh do you hear that?" Stu pipped down letting you concentrate. "Somebody's at the door." You rolled off the bed heading down the steps. "I'm going to pick the next record." Stu called from the bedroom. Making sure you looked presentable you opened the door. Billy looked up at you a smile playing at his lips for the first time in what felt like forever. "Hey." He said as you stared in shock. Your heart raced and you felt sick.
"Jeez don't get too excited." The visitor rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease his slowly building nerves. It was obvious to him you weren't as happy about seeing him as he was you. To him you were a breath of fresh air but that was because he was stealing yours. "Y/n please talk to me." He pleaded making you snap out of the trance you were in. "Go away." You thought it'd come out as a scream but it barley qualified as a whisper. Billy caught the door as it was closing. "You can't just tell me you're in love with me and then disappear." He walked into the house as if he owned it. You couldn't help but laugh dryly.
"That's what you got out of everything thing that happened Monday?" He raised an eyebrow unsure of what he was missing. "What else was I supposed to get? You literally pointed at gun at me saying you did all this for me because you loved me." You slammed your front door causing Stu to jump upstairs. "I was going to kill you." You said plainly done with the chit chat. "Excuse me?" You walked to the kitchen grabbing a drink from the fridge. "You heard me. When I saw that article and saw your smug face all I could see was red." Billy took a seat on your couch deciding to take his shoes off as if he was staying longer.
"I did love you, you're right but that was years ago. For a second there you had me fooled I'll give you that. My original plan was to get close to you and then kill you. Simple as that. Stu made that hard considering you were two attached at the hip." You refrained from making a joke you knew the boy upstairs would appreciate. "Why didn't you just kill him too?" With the look you gave him he knew that wasn't a good question. You took a swig of soda setting the glass bottle down on the counter. "It might be a shocker for a heartless bastard like you but I don't just run around killing people that inconvenience me."
Billy was actually kind of hurt by the comment. "I found out you two were planning to murder a group of kids so I sat and waited for you two to get yourselves put in prison or better yet you'd kill yourself." Billy swallowed what little spit he had left in his mouth. He was uncomfortable. "I'm not stupid, I knew you were going to kill him. He was simply collateral to you. That's what really pissed me off. You hadn't changed at all. I couldn't kill you now because he loved you and I couldn't bring myself to hurt him. Does he know?"
Stu sat upstairs knees to his chest as he tried not to cry. He was dumb he knew that but he was okay with it. He didn't think he was think oblivious though. All he was to Billy was a disposable accomplice. Something he could throw away once he was done using him.
"I wasn't going to kill him. We were going to run away together." You laughed shaking your head in disbelief. "Watch out Loomis, you're starting to sound as delusional as me." The whole scene really played out like two parents in the midst of a divorce. "Why'd you come here?" The defeated sound in your voice made Billy regret his decision in coming here. "I wanted to see you." He muttered. "Well you've seen me." You held out your hands making sure he could get a good luck before he left.
"I love you." Billy looked up at you making sure your eyes met when you heard the words. You hated the way he could easily manipulate you. Maybe it was because you wanted him to. You enjoyed how the lies made you feel so you chose to believe them. "If you think that's what I want to hear it's not. Love bombing is a big red flag you know?" Billy slammed his fist on the couch arm in frustration. "What the hell do you want to hear then?" You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I can't explain every little thing to you Billy. It's not my responsibility to teach you how to be a decent human being. I just need time. We both do. If you still feel the same way next week we can talk okay?"
Billy bit his lip till it started to bleed. "Okay." He was yet again defeated by you. You weren't keeping score but he certainly was. "If I call will you at least answer? Please." The idea wasn't bad but you knew it was only a matter of time till this sense of clarity wore off. You'd take him back in a heartbeat because you're the same easily impressed girl you've always been.
"I'll think about it." You'd kiss him right now if he as much implied the idea. One whimper from him and you've would've started making the bastard a sandwich. "Thank you." He said as he put he shoes back on. "How are you?" It was a question you thought he didn't care enough to ask. "I'm feeling better. Thank you for asking. How are you doing?" Billy's wound didn't even bother him at this point it was his mental state that was in decline. "I miss you and Stu." That wasn't an answer to your question but you proceeded with caution.
"I'll be back to school next week. Why don't you stay home this week too? School is not exactly the best idea for us right now." All things considered that is. You didn't understand how much Billy despised his "home." Since his mother left him his house became a prison. A padded cell would be cozier. "I would rather go to school all day than go home." You felt for him but that's as far as your sympathy went. Slowly he stood up waiting for anything to keep him here a bit longer.
"I'll see you Monday, Billy." You walked over to him ready to open up the front door. Swallowing his pride he wrapped his arms around you burying his face in your neck. The strangely intimate act was not in Billy's character. "I'm sorry." He whispered to himself more than you. You weren't even sure if he knew he said it. Your arms wrapped around his back and he let you just hold him for a second. If this was some sort of manipulation tactic he was better than you thought. Billy cleared his throat as he pulled away.
"I guess I'll see you Monday." You nodded not trusting your voice. "Call me if you need anything." Billy added as he walked outside heading towards his car. "Bye." Your voice cracked and you quickly shut the door locking it. Instead of sliding down the door like they do in the movies you laid face down on the couch. Screaming you lungs out into the throw pillow seemed to attract the attention of the boy upstairs. "You okay Betty Crocker?" Stu said almost jumping down the stairs. "You want to go cliff diving?" You asked as you carefully rolled off into the floor.
Stu joined you on the carpet. "Can we drive off the cliff Thelma and Louise style?" You smiled cuddling up into his side. "Absolutely." You wanted to ask if he heard your discussion but with how red his face was you assumed he already knew. "Is Y/n your real name?" There was a calming sincerity to his voice. "I wouldn't lie about that. Well actually that's a lie, yes I would." He laughed covering his eyes with his arm. "But no I'm not lying about that. I've got my birth certificate somewhere around here or I could just give you my social security number." You smiled up at him. "That works too."
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Stu played records as you and him cleaned the kitchen. He felt betrayed by his best friend and he desperately needed the break. Stu would forgive Billy eventually, he always did. He knew you'd forgive him too if you hadn't already. That's just what Billy did. Ignorance is bliss, Stu learned that a long time ago. In the meantime, Stu was busy playing house with you.
(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)
Part 11
Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum
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loveanddeepspice · 4 months ago
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𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖
✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.
✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader
✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)
✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)
✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.
✞ chapter:  6 / ?
✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)
✞ ao3 link:  here
✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde
✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6
Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!
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Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 
He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”
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You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 
Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.
The word ethereal came to mind. 
Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 
And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 
Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 
Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 
“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 
You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.
“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 
If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -
 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 
Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 
“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”
How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 
Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 
Well, fuck. 
There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 
"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 
Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 
The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 
“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 
“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 
Oh God.
 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.
“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 
He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 
Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 
“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 
Everyone except for you. 
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“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 
Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 
“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 
“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 
“How would I do that?” You asked. 
As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 
You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.
As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 
Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 
Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 
“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 
You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 
“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 
Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 
Dinner. Shit. 
“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.
You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -
“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 
Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 
This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 
“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 
The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 
“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 
Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”
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It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 
Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 
You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 
For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 
Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.
Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 
The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 
The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 
Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 
“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 
Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 
But, maybe - 
Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 
“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 
Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 
“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 
It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 
Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 
He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 
That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’
It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 
“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 
“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 
After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 
“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 
His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 
In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 
Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 
Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.
He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 
A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 
“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 
You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 
Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 
“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 
“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 
Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 
He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 
He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 
“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 
He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 
“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 
The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 
“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.
“Sylus, I’m -” 
“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 
At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 
Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 
You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 
As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 
“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 
Of course you did. More than anything. 
But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 
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He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.
“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 
No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 
“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.
“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 
Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 
After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 
Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 
And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 
“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 
It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 
“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 
It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.
Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 
“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 
You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 
“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 
The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 
“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 
It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 
“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”
His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 
The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 
“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 
It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 
When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 
“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 
You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 
He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 
One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 
When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 
And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 
You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.
“You okay?” 
A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 
“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 
“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 
“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 
You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.
Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 
A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 
“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”
He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 
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Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91
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stevie-petey · 1 month ago
Note
Hi! I love your writing, it’s seriously impeccable. I was wondering- remember the part where you wrote in the first chapter for season 4, where Chrissy gave reader a daisy (or daisies ?) when everything happened in season 1? Whenever you can, I was wondering what that would have looked like, like a mini little blurb.
:}
yes !!! chrissy was a sweetie i like to imagine her and bug were friendly and admired the other from afar </3
enjoy !
"excuse me?"
youre in the library trying to catch up on all the work youve missed these last few weeks, and youre so lost in your readings that you jump when you feel the girls hand gently tap your shoulder. "jesus!"
the table thuds, knee coming into contact with it in your terror, and your heart stops. memories of the demogorgon still fresh on your mind, any touch from someone sets you into a spiral.
"sorry!" the girl squeaks in embarrassment, and when you look up, you see chrissy cunninghams cheeks flushed. "i-im sorry! i didnt mean to scare you, i promise-"
your heartbeat settles. placing a hand on hers, you placate chrissys anxious thoughts. "its alright. no harm done." you smile at her, winking, hoping to dispel any remaining tension. "just a bruised knee."
yet chrissys face pales now. "oh, no. thats even worse. i really didnt mean to make you jump like that."
"it really isnt your fault." you reassure her again. "honestly, anything these days makes me jump."
"because of will?" chrissy asks you before she can stop herself. she flinches at her own question, similar to a small deer scared of its own shadow, and your heart aches for the girl before you. "i-im so sorry. that was a rude question-"
"would you like to sit?"
its not that you interrupt chrissy because youre bored of her. you interrupt her because you know what its like to spiral into anxious thoughts and uncertain boundaries. chrissy has been your classmate for years, but the two of you were always divided by a line created by social hierarchy. she chose cheerleading, and you chose jonathan.
but despite this divide, youve always watched chrissy in awe. shes kind. kinder than anyone youve ever met, and her soft demeanor juxtaposed the charisma needed to become head cheerleader at only sixteen. and yet youve never seen her cruel to anyone.
"well?" you beckon chrissy towards the seat next to you. "since youre here, might as well keep me company, right?"
chrissy nods, silent, and softly sits down. everything she does is soft. she smells of rosebuds and her doe eyes remind you of your childhood.
as she sits, you notice something white poking out from her bag. curious, you peer over the table. "whats in there?"
she stiffens at your questioning. everything you seem to do frightens her in some capacity. as if shes afraid any minute she'll upset you, and you try not to read into it, you really do, but her shy demeanor concerns you.
"chrissy," you gently grab her hand, eyes finding hers. shes warm to the touch, skin as soft as she is. "im just an annoyingly inquisitive person who cries watching ants get stepped on."
she laughs, and the cadence of it rings like bells. "ants?"
"im fond of bugs." you shrug at her, only knowing the true meaning behind your words.
she doesnt question you, though, and instead loops her arm through her backpack and places it on the table. you watch her with patience as she unzips it, unsure what she's doing, until she's pulled out freshly cut daisies.
you gasp. the flowers are lovely. "theyre beautiful!"
chrissy smiles shyly. "theyre for you, actually?"
"me?"
"mhm," she hands them to you, a sudden boldness to her once petrified nature. on her face is a proud smile, eager to have done this one nice thing for you, and for a second you see your reflection in her eyes. "here."
you hold the flowers close to your chest. they smell like spring and laughter. "i... why?"
"theyre for you and will." chrissy fixes one of the stems, delicate and deft. "when i heard about his disappearance, when he died..."
its your turn to look away. the reminder of seeing what you thought was wills lifeless body only days ago. how small he looks now in the hospital bed. how els body isnt next to his.
chrissy clears her throat, anxious she's upset you, and tries to ease the sting. "but hes alive now, and i figured you and him could use some flowers after everything youve been through."
she picks at a daisy, watches the small plant with fondness. "flowers. funny how something so frail can bring so much hope."
something about the way she says it, the way her words twist, makes your throat close up. pressure builds behind your eyes and you have to quickly wipe them before chrissy sees and starts to worry again.
"thank you," your voice cracks. "i... will hates how dull the hospital walls are."
chrissy laughs, leaning into you, and you cant help but laugh with her as well.
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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 9 months ago
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The Fuck Up Chapter 1
Summary:  Bucky fucked up.  A few times.  Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?
Warnings: language, smut, mentions of war, injury, pregnancy
Next chapter
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Y/N and Bucky had been best friends since they were teenagers. They met on the first day of high school in English, both groaning over the fact that the assigned reading was The Grapes of Wrath, considered an American classic but an incredibly boring read. They were paired up in a project together and became inseparable ever since. Y/N had no family, having been passed from foster home to foster home until finally being placed with the family she was with now who were willing to keep her. She had a hard time trusting people, and Bucky liked a challenge. They quickly became the most important people in each other’s lives. They were teased about dating each other, and as much as they each had moments of having more romantic feelings towards the other, nothing had ever come to full fruition. Bucky’s family took Y/N in and treated her like their own. Even with her new adopted family, she had never felt so loved in her life.
After high school they had planned to go to college together, but the housing market crashed and Bucky’s parents, Winifred and George, had to use his and his sister Becca’s college funds to keep their house, and no companies were giving out scholarships as they all tried to protect their assets. Y/N had been able to use a grant system to get into college. Bucky came from a military family, and although he had had no plans of ever joining, it seemed he had run out of options. He enlisted in the Marines. Y/N was upset, not wanting him to risk his life, but understood. She supported him as he went through boot camp and then the rigorous special operations training, but the military was hard on him. Bucky had always been an emotional person, and Y/N hated watching him have to deal with the PTSD and the group mindset that the military instilled in him, changing him from the happy-go-lucky kid she’d known to an anxious, trauma-ridden mess. She finished college and got a digital marketing degree, working for a major online company while doing some photography as a side hustle.
Twelve years later they were both in their thirties, barely getting to see each other but keeping in touch. Bucky had had a few close calls while on special ops the last few years and his family was pushing him to not re-enlist.
“Please, Buck, no more,” Winifred begged him. “You’ve served your country well. You’ve almost died three times over the last few years. Please stay,” she cried as he looked at the re-enlistment papers.
“I know, Ma, I know,” Bucky sighed, setting them down. “I…I just feel like I got one more tour left in me. I need to do this.”
“Hey everybody!” Y/N called as she entered the house.
Winifred spun around. “Y/N! Come here please!”
Y/N followed her voice to the kitchen. “Hey Winnie…wait,” she looked between them. “What’s wrong?”
“Bucky is thinking of re-enlisting,” Winifred said, sniffling sadly.
The look on Y/N’s face when her head snapped towards him made him flinch. “You…” she stuttered, her eyes wide and her brow furrowed. “You just got back.”
“I know, honey,” Bucky walked up to her and grabbed her arms. “I just need to do this. One more tour.”
“No,” she replied, pulling away from him. “You said you were done. We wrote to each other about it. You promised me,” Y/N’s eyes started to fill with tears.
“Please don’t cry, Y/N,” Bucky begged. “I can’t handle it when you cry.”
“Well that’s TOO DAMN BAD!” Y/N screamed at him. Bucky stepped back, surprised by her reaction. Winifred gasped, also shocked by her outburst. Y/N was not one to normally get emotional or react out loud to things. Y/N shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to breathe normally as her hands clenched at her sides. “You promised me,” she whispered.
Bucky sighed and bit his bottom lip. “Y/N, please understand—”
“No, you need to understand something,” she interrupted him, her eyes opening and glaring at him. “I don’t know where this weird obsession came from with you wanting to run into danger. You joined the military so you could get help with college. But then you re-enlisted, and re-enlisted. And now you have this codependent relationship with an organization, in a government, in a country, that doesn’t care about you!” She walked closer to him until she was toe to toe with him. “You are just another body to them. If and when you die, they’ll easily replace you. We can’t replace you!” She gestured to Winifred and herself. “I need you,” she cried, the tears finally falling down her cheeks. “You are wanted, appreciated, and loved here, at home. Why is that not enough?”
“It is enough,” Bucky said, blinking rapidly to stop any of his own tears falling.
“Obviously not,” Y/N whimpered, her chin wobbling as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. “I can’t…I can’t do this,” she whirled around and left the way she came.
“Y/N, hey wait,” Bucky called after her, following her to the front door. “Come on, honey, please don’t leave, let’s talk about this!” Y/N didn’t answer him, continuing to walk through the front door and out to her car. “Y/N…honey please!” She didn’t even spare him a glance as she got in her car. He tried opening her door, but she had already locked it. She quickly backed up and left his parents’ house, her tires screeching as she peeled down the street. “Fuck,” Bucky grumbled, running his hands through his hair.
He knew she was right, that it was stupid of him to re-enlist and put himself in harm's way. He had made a lifelong friendship in the military, and through some misguided idea of brotherhood had promised his friend he’d come back for another tour and join him for more special ops. But he had also promised his girl he’d be done after this last time. His girl?
**picture found on Pinterest...can we all agree that A.I. is dangerous just for this picture alone? #buckywiththelonghair
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detectivestucks2 · 5 months ago
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Escape with the Cursed King II
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Pairing: F!Reader x Sukuna
Summary: After surviving the mission you begin to feel confused about your savior. Questions about why you were saved overwhelm you and you seek out answers but that's not the only time you seek him out.
Warnings: public touching, struggles with being revived from the dead. Mostly fluff.
Word Count: 4.2k
Art Credit: @akirasukuna
Chapter 1 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13
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Chapter 2
A knock can be heard at your front door and you drag yourself out of the warm comfort of your bed. With hazy eyes you stumble to the door and slide the chain latch open wondering how it relocked itself after last night’s intrusion. You hardly cared in the moment as you were more annoyed at the prospect of who was disturbing your slumber. 
“Rise and Shine Sweetheart!”
“Saturo, it’s a school day. What are you doing here?”
“I could say the same about you.”
“I already hired substitutes for the rest of the week. What excuse do you have?”
“You think I left without arranging substitutes?”
“Considering how many of our classes got canceled cause of your missions…yes.”
“Well maybe I canceled class to come see you. Is that a crime?”
“No but it’s silly to do so. I’m fine.”
“You died.”
“And now I’m alive.”
“But Sukuna-”
“Saved my life.”
“It’s more than that. He overtook Yuji’s body. If Sukuna has plans for you, you’re not safe. Yuji can’t contain him.”
“If he had plans for me, he would’ve let me die but he didn’t. He revived me and mended all my wounds. Whatever Sukuna’s deal is, I no longer think he’s coming to hurt me.”
“Just yesterday you were freaking out about being near him and now after he went on a rampage you’re suddenly okay with his fixation on you?”
“Just yesterday you thought Sukuna was harmless inside of Yuji’s body and now after he saved my life you suddenly think it’s not okay. How is that any different?”
“Cause, you didn’t see or hear what happened after you died.”
“I saw the aftermath.”
“So you can gather how violent it was.”
“I can, but he didn’t harm anyone on the team. Plus it seems he has a need to protect me, not harm me.”
“But what if that need to protect you spreads to more than just curses or life threatening circumstances? What if he views anyone who threatens you or so much as upsets you as a reason to level the entire University?”
“Then I will give Yuji a wide berth so he doesn’t have to witness anything.”
“What if gossip gets back to him? You know how college students are. They make mountains out of mole hills every day.”
“Similar to what you’re doing.”
You know it was snippy, but you were starting to get annoyed with his persistence. You were tired and didn’t ask to have a heated discussion before so much as a cup of coffee. 
“I am not making a mountain out of this. I am being completely reasonable.”
“It sounds like your pride is hurt. You couldn’t save me when Sukuna could.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The next words fall out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. You’re not sure what snapped in you but something just gave.
“It means you’re jealous. Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with me. I’m not stupid.”
“You are just–” Gojo growls with annoyance. “You’re letting this go to your head.”
“And you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend. Which you’re not.”
“I know I’m not your boyfriend, okay!”
“Then stop acting like it!”
“Fine! You want me to stop caring, then have a good day.”
“Fine!”
Gojo slams down the coffee he brought you and strides out of your apartment with only a few steps of his long legs. Once the door closes you exhale and small purple vapor-like daggers clatter to the floor before disappearing.
You aren’t even sure why you provoked him like that. Are you feeling defensive of Sukuna? The monster just saved your life and killed the Special Grade curse running amuck in the process. He even came over to check on you after the fact. Maybe he isn’t as bad as the legends say. 
The spinning sensation of too many thoughts returned. A feeling you were growing more and more accustomed to over these past 24 hours. 
You wanted to see him. Talk to him. You had to know why. What was he thinking? What about seeing you lifeless brought him strength to overpower Yuji and destroy the Cursed Spirit? Was the warm embrace actually Sukuna hugging you? Holding you as he healed your body? You had to know.
You sit down on your living room couch, sipping the macchiato Gojo provided. You whip out your phone and cashapp him for the drink with a note: ‘Sorry. Thank you for the coffee.’
A short moment later you receive a text from the blue eyed man: ‘I forgive you.’
Once you felt yourself fully awake you get dressed and ready for the day. Without realizing it, you put a little more effort into your appearance than usual, layering on extra mascara and curling your lashes after tying your hair up in a twisted updo, pulling out a few strands to frame your face. 
You left your home in search of Yuji and figured you’d start with his dorm room. You step up to the door and lightly rap on the wood. 
A sleepy Megumi cracks open the door before pulling it all the way open upon seeing your face. 
“Professor, What are you-”
“Is Yuji here?”
“No, he left for the quad.”
“Thanks Megumi”
“Professor, are you sure it’s a good idea to go looking for him?”
“I need answers Megumi. Surely you can understand.”
“I guess, but it seems like it could be dangerous to entertain Sukuna.”
“It may be equally as dangerous to ignore him.”
Megumi shakes his head as if to say ‘your funeral’ before wishing you luck and closing the door.
You turn on your heel and head towards the campus quad. You pass several students, many of whom smile and nod at you. A few even cat-calling you, reminding you of why you don’t normally dress nice. Yuji looks up to see what the commotion is about and upon seeing you he turns away.
“Yuji, wait!”
“Professor no. I shouldn’t”
“Please Yuji, I need answers.”
“It’s not safe. You don’t know the things he thinks.”
“I want to though. Help me understand.”
You can see on Yuji’s face that his is upset. He wants nothing more than for you to heed his warning and run.
“He can’t be trusted. Don’t believe the words he says.”
“Then tell me, what are the things he thinks?”
A rosy tint emerges on the boy’s cheeks and you can tell he is not liking the turn of this conversation one bit. With a deep sigh he gives in.
“He…he thinks you’re beautiful.”
You’re almost floored by this news but after a moment you realize that last night he did call you princess. So you guess it’s not far fetched plus you know you’re cute. You just got whistled at as you walked here.
“Is that a bad thing? It’s not like it’s unheard of for a guy to think I’m pretty.”
“Yeah but, it's not always appropriate. Sometimes it's really…messed up. The things he thinks…about doing…to you.”
You snort with laughter. “So he’s a kinky curse. Got it”
“It’s not funny! It’s twisted.”
“...aaand a little funny.”
“Not if you knew.”
“So what else?”
“He is constantly trying to take over my body to be near you.”
“How come?”
“Probably to sleep with you. Which I’m a student so that’s a hard no.”
Despite your amazement that the mighty Sukuna was infatuated with you, you laugh again. “Last I checked, you don’t save someone’s life just so you can sleep with them. There has to be more. Why me?”
“Yeah, yesterday was…it was scary. I had no control. I felt this fury inside of me that I had never felt before. It was like he wanted to scorch the earth and when he held you in his arms… my arms, it-it was like nothing else mattered. I couldn’t stop him. I tried. I thought he was going to kill us all to save you. Megumi, Kugisaki, Gojo, all the prisoners, the guards, and the curse. It was amazing that any of us survived.”
“Something tells me he wouldn’t do that. Kill everyone I care about.”
“As his vessel, I assure you he would.”
You bite your lip refusing to believe him. You pause for a moment before you finally ask, “Can I talk to him?”
“Willingly let Sukuna have control of my body?”
You hesitate and lower your gaze, realizing how selfish and potentially stupid it was to ask to let the king of curses have free reign of his vessel.
Suddenly a mouth appears on Yuji’s cheek and you hear a voice shout your name.
“Princess! Let me talk to her, you sack of flesh.”
Yuji slaps his hand over the mouth trying to silence it. Only a second later he yelps in pain, “Ow! You bit me!”
“Yeah brat. How dare you try to muzzle me!”
“I’m not letting you out.”
“The lady wishes to talk.”
“And you just incinerated a prison yesterday!”
“So you know I can take over by force!”
Yuji huffs and looks towards the sky as if asking for strength. He closes his eyes and slowly tattoos bleed onto his ivory skin. A deep husky voice greets you as he grabs your hand to kiss the back of it. “Princess.”
“Sukuna.”
“You seem rested.”
“I am, thank you.”
An all too charming smile graces his face and you feel a twinge in your chest. He seems to notice but he doesn’t comment. 
“Sukuna.”
“Your King.”
“Huh?”
“You will address me as your King.”
“I uh-as you wish. My King-”
“Much better.”
“Why did you rescue me?”
“Because there is potential in you.”
Your suddenly more confused. You’re talented, yes, but you thought he saved you cause he liked you. What the heck is he talking about, potential? You do your best to cover your confusion with your next statement.
“There is potential in many.”
“Not like there is in you. Even the discerning eyes of Saturo Gojo have seen it. You are unlike any other sorcerer of your age.”
“Yet one would consider Gojo and Geto to be much stronger.”
“They may be, but you walk amongst them with grace and intelligence beyond your years.” You hold your breath as you feel his fingers lift to trace your face.
“If I was so intelligent then why’d I get myself killed yesterday?”
“Cause that idiot Gojo left you alone with a special grade.”
“I’ve killed special grades by myself, you know. That’s how I received my rank and earned my position.”
The tattooed man chuckles at your defiance.
“No need to be offended. Not all Special Grades are equal. For example, I myself could not be killed by just one sorcerer. Not even the mighty Gojo.”
“You say that like it’s a challenge.”
“Maybe it is.”
“Careful now, that’s one of my best friend’s you’re talking about.”
“He wants to be more than friends. I see how he looks at you.” There is anger in his voice and you realize he is jealous.
“So? You seem to want to be more than friends too.”
“And you? What do you want?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“You want Saturo?”
“No! I don’t want Gojo. He’s my friend.”
“So it’s me that you want.”
“...I…uh.”
Sukuna continues his smug chuckling
“What’s so funny my King?” you say emphasizing the last two words.
“You.”
Your face twists into a look of distaste at being made fun of in such a way which only serves to further humor him as a booming laugh fills the back corner of the quad.
“It’s not funny!”
His laughter echoes louder and you can’t stop yourself from lightly shoving him to get him to stop. His laughter ceases as his arms quickly grab you by your biceps and he squeezes hard enough that a small whimper of discomfort passes your lips.
“Careful doll, just cause I saved you doesn’t mean you can do what you want.”
“Sorry my King.” you say meekly, realizing the mistake you made. You can’t treat this man as if he’s Gojo. He most decidedly is not. He is far from your friend.
He hums happily at your response, pulling you close to his side and wrapping an arm around your waist.
“I think you’re afraid to admit that you want me.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“Cause clearly you want me.”
You scoff and turn away to which his finger hooks your chin and turns your head to face him. You can’t stop the way your breath hitches and becomes shallow as you look into his eyes. 
“Am I wrong?”
Your gaze falls to his lips as he speaks the words. He was not wrong. You wanted him. But that’s crazy. To yearn for a Curse. To feel this need for him. To desire a dangerous being such as him. You are a fool to feel this way. 
“You’re wrong.”
“Don’t lie to me, Princess.”
“I’m not lying.”
He slaps your face and once more your breath hitches as he tugs your jaw closer to his face. 
“I said don’t lie.”
You start to close your legs, trying to provide some form of relief to the sudden need in your core. 
“I-”
“Yes, Princess”
“I can’t”
“You will.”
“But… I shouldn’t”
“Is that going to stop you?”
You feel dizzy from the heat flooding your body. You drop your head to his shoulder, hiding your blush.
“You can’t hide from me Doll.”
You bury your face in his neck in response, eliciting another chuckle from the man.
“I’m not hiding.”
“There we go with the lying again. Do I need to punish you?”
You gasp and lift your head off his shoulder. A mischievous grin spreads between his ears.
“My King, we’re in public.” you whisper as your panicked eyes dart around.
“Yes, and you’re lying to me here in public. I can’t let these onlookers see me let you get away with such behavior. What kind of King do you think I am?”
The tips of your ears grow hot. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted to be punished here in front of your precious students.”
“No my King. I have no desire to lose my job.”
Sukuna’s hot breath fills your ear as he whispers seductively “That’s what your mind is saying but your body is saying something different.”
“Please stop” you quietly plead, feeling hot all over. You rub your legs together and turn away from him.
“Don’t run, Princess.”
Sukuna pulls you back towards him by slipping his hand between your legs and cupping your heat as he slides you back to his side. A heated gasp escapes you and you hide your face by turning your head away. His fingers begin to rub circles around your nub and you plead for him to stop. Your fingers wrap around the edge of the bench and you fall forward from the stimulation.
“Will you promise to stop lyin to me?”
“Yes, my King.”
His speed increases and you feel yourself clench, your back arching.
“Good girl.”
Sukuna withdraws his hand and you catch your breath. A derisive sigh cuts through the air before the pink haired man laments,
“The brat is screaming to come back out.”
You turn to gaze at his face. “Will I see you again.”
A low chuckle comes from his mouth, “Who’s gonna stop me?”
A smile of relief tugs at your lips and you feel stupid for even being excited about seeing this monstrosity but something about him has you wrapped up in his spell and you are happy nonetheless.
“See you soon, my King.”
He simply smiles and traces your cheek with his thumb before the tattoos fade and an apologetic Yuji returns. 
“Professor! I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t worry about it Yuji, really.”
He gives you a questioning look and you place your arm on his shoulder to reassure him.
“Thank you Yuji, for letting me get my answers. I deeply appreciate it.”
You get up and walk away feeling satisfied but albeit flustered by your conversation with Sukuna. Yuji sits on the bench behind you confused by what just happened but relieved that you are alright.
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Though Gojo is more suspicious than ever, constantly on high alert, worried about Sukuna,  Yuji starts to be a little more at ease around you. He no longer avoided you like you had the bubonic plague but he did look more exasperated than ever.
“Yuji, are you okay?”
“Yeah Professor, I’m good.”
“You look a little tired”
“It’s nothing. He’s just been more demanding than usual.”
You giggle with a small blush, “Sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault.” You catch him on the cusp of rolling his eyes when he makes up an excuse to shuffle off to class. 
You’re left feeling a bit victorious with a twinge of guilt. You love knowing the effect you have on one of the most powerful beings to ever exist but feel bad that poor Yuji is caught in the middle.
You still love going to your weekly coffee date with Gojo but they’re different than they were before. He used to be more light hearted and while he still carries himself with child-like wonder, it is tainted with an undertone of worry and stress. He is extremely concerned about Sukuna’s interest in you and he did not like that you were taking the situation so lightly. He especially didn’t like that you seemed to enjoy it. 
How could you be so naive to let your guard down around a special grade that can level an entire city with a snap of his finger? It was unlike you to be so wreckless.
“How are your classes?”
“They’re going well. I’ve got a couple first years who think they’re hot stuff but it’s nothing a nice Grade 1 curse can’t fix.”
“That wouldn’t have ever worked on me.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah” he says with a stretch, “I was just that awesome. No one will take me on.”
“Really…I’ve heard differently.”
“You have?!”
“Mhm” you nod
“Liar.”
“A certain name comes to mind…a Toji I think.”
Gojo’s face drops and he looks to his lower right. “Megumi’s dad.”
You spit out your coffee in surprise. “THAT’S Megumi’s dad?!?!”
“Indeed. He told me about his son as he bled to death from the hole I carved into his chest.”
You’re stunned into silence. 
“He was a powerful man. Quick and invisible. I almost lost my life”
His eyes pan back up to meet yours.
“But, I’m here and he’s not, so it all worked out good.”
The quick shift in his attitude back to his usual chipper self almost gave you whiplash. You blink a couple times to mentally catch up.
“Is that when you took Megumi in?”
“I sought him out after that. He didn’t want to come with me but I stopped by plenty. Kinda like a fun uncle.”
“Well isn’t that sweet of you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah”
A flash of a smug grin runs across his face and his usual spirited demeanor returns.
“Thanks Sunshine, but it was the least I could do. It’s not like it’s a big deal.”
“Says you.” This leaves Gojo blushing and you start to realize that Sukuna was right, maybe there is more here than friendship but that’s not what you wanted. He was your professor and now your colleague. He has become your best friend. You don’t want to ruin that with a silly date that you’re not even sure you’d enjoy. 
You paint a pleasant smile on your face as you take another sip of your latte and redirect the conversation back to your classes while your mind continues to wander in the background about what Sukuna might think of your weekly coffee trips. 
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Asleep in your bed you dream of a warm embrace, a strong hand tracing your forehead and cupping your cheek. The feeling of a certain cursed being reviving you from the dead. You were dead…actually dead… You wake up with a start at the memory. 
Heart pounding with an empty feeling filling your chest and gut, you look around the empty room deciding what to do. Your fingers sink between the fabric of your blanket as you pull it up to your chin, tucking your knees to your chest. You feel alone and out of place all the sudden.
I shouldn’t be here. I should be dead.
It was a dark feeling that you couldn’t shake. As if by existing you have altered the timeline and the future is uncertain. 
“Sukuna really likes to play god, doesn’t he…” You mutter sarcastically into the darkness
As you think of the inked man you can’t help the flutter in your stomach. You start to remember his smirk and the way he touched you. How he likes to take charge and how dainty you feel by his side. The flutter turns into a twist as you realize your need for him is increasing and you can’t believe what you’re thinking of doing. 
You slide your covers off and reach in your nightstand to pull out a pair of fluffy socks. You slip them on and your toes touch the floor. You grab your robe off the hook on the back of your door as you swiftly walk towards your apartment entrance.
Opening the front door, you step into the hallway of the dorm, tiptoeing to the floor where the second years stay and glide down the corridor towards Yuji’s dorm room. 
This is wrong. This is wrong. I’m really doing this but it’s wrong.
You can’t stop the internal dialogue full of panic in the back of your head but you also couldn’t stop yourself from seeking him out. You get to Yuji’s room and unlock the door with your masterkey. 
The lights are off and complete darkness blankets the room. You’re relieved to hear light snoring from the second year so you feel confident to whisper into the room, “Sukuna…Sukuna, you there?”
You squeeze your eyes shut at how ridiculous this entire course of actions is. You’re insane, legitimately insane. You are trying to summon a dangerous special grade who may even kill you for demanding anything of him, including asking for his presence. Furthermore you broke into a student’s dorm room which is completely inappropriate, and what if Yuji wakes up and not Sukuna? How would you explain yourself? What if he gets uncomfortable and reports you?
Just as you decide this is a bad idea and you turn to leave, you hear the deep commanding voice of a king respond. *Enchain*
“Ah, she seeks me out again.”
You stand up straight and turn around, bumping into Sukuna as he approaches you. 
“My King…”
You feel his hands reach for your arms and slide up your shoulders and neck, before cupping your cheek in the most endearing touch you’ve ever felt in your life. You exhale and relax completely as you stand before the cursed being. 
“Is everything okay, Doll?”
“I was feeling…out of place. Like I no longer belong cause I was supposed to die.”
“So precious. You were meant to live, Princess. If you were meant to die, you would’ve stayed dead. Come sweet girl.”
You lean your head into his hand, letting its weight rest in his palm before he steers you towards the bed and has you lie down before he gets in next to you. You can’t believe how he’s holding you. The terror of generations, pulling you into his chest, laying next to you and allowing you to sleep in his arms. 
“Sukuna?”
“Yes my Princess?”
“Have you cuddled before?”
“A long time ago.”
“Did you like it?”
“Not enough to do it with anyone else.”
“And now?”
“Shh, relax Princess.” His voice was comforting but you didn’t understand.
“Why me?”
“You know why.”
“My potential?”
“Yes.” he says with a soft pet of your hair, lulling you into a stupor, no longer worried about how walking among the living is impacting the events of the universe. The insanity of the idea that you were sharing a bed with the mighty Sukuna completely wanes as sleep tugs at your lids. All you are left with is the blissful feeling of strong arms coveting you in their clutches. A feeling that pulls you into the swirling vortex of blissful sleep.
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The next morning you once more wake with a start, terrified that you fell asleep in a student’s dorm bed, cuddling with them while they were unconscious. You would absolutely lose your job if Yuji woke up before you. But as your body sits up, the sunlight streaming in from the window next to your bed serves as a reminder that somehow you are in fact between your own sheets. At some point Sukuna must have carried you back to your own home. It surprised you that he would be so considerate but you were starting to learn that when Sukuna cares for someone, he will treat them well. 
You hug your knees to your chest and rest your chin on top of them as you gaze out your window at the squirrel running up the tree and bounding along its branches. You must be going mad. Why else would sleeping in Sukuna’s arms bring you so much comfort? You were diagnosably insane. There was no other explanation. You went from fearing this man above all else to seeking him out when you needed comfort. 
…this is not gonna end well. I just know it
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Chapter 1 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13
Masterlist
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iamnot-crazy · 1 year ago
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Stowaway Chapter 1
Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader
Info: This is my first time posting a story on Tumblr and my first time writing a x reader.
Summary:
The reader is a slave to a nobleman due to her devil's fruit ability which allows her to control the emotions of the people around her. She flees to bump into Trafalgar Law and boards his ship.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11
Context:
*Reader is a devil fruit user of the feel-feel fruit. This fruit allows the user to control the chemical balance inside of someone's brain to control their emotions. But it isn't easy to control and starts off as when she touches someone she shares her emotion with them. She starts wearing gloves laced with sea prism to avoid transferring her emotions to everyone she touches. later on, she will learn how to control which emotion she is transferring to someone without having to feel that current emotion. In the rare case of her being extremely upset, she can send out a cloud of emotions that can give a particular emotion to a large group of people but using that ability takes a lot out of her. 
*Reader found the fruit when she was 5 and playing in the forest with some friends. Her mother was very supportive and tried helping her control her new ability and when she couldn't she saved up to get her the gloves laced with sea prism so she could play with her friends again. Her mother died when she was 10 and her father remarried when she was 12. Her stepmother had spent all her father's and mother's money on clothes and jewelry leaving her father overworked and unable to provide for his hungry daughter. When the reader turned 14 her stepmother took her to Sabaody for a fun vacation with just the two of them. Her stepmother brought her to the auction house where the reader would be sold for a large amount for her devil fruit ability.
*The reader for the next 10 years would be a slave to a world noble, she would follow him around changing to help him feel relaxed or to force the other slaves to feel particular ways for him. She was treated better than the other slaves because of her ability and her master would rarely let her out of his sight as he constantly bragged about the perfect slave he found. 
*One day the reader was able to slip past her master and the guards and make her way to the harbor.  It took three days to make it to the harbor unseen. You couldn't risk getting caught and sent back knowing the punishment for escaping would be worse than dying of starvation.
Chapter 1
At the harbor, Trafalgar Law and the heart pirates were docked collecting supplies.  You were looking for a boat to stow away on and were ducking behind the supply crates and stealing the occasional fruit or two to munch on. You were hiding behind a stack of crates trying to pry open the one that said "APPLES" when someone sat on top of the crate closing your opening. You hissed and pulled your hand away and looked angrily at the man who looked at you questionly. "Is there a reason you are trying to steal my crew's provisions?" He asked.
"I just wanted an apple." You admitted looking away from the man. The man nodded and muttered some words before an Apple appeared in his hand which he stretched out to you which you greedily took. 
"What are you hiding from?" He asked as you devoured the apple. As you were about to answer your master's guards came down from the mansion and started shouting at people if they had seen a girl matching your description and showing your image. The man nodded in understanding, "So what did you do to piss off the noble?" 
You finished the apple leaving only the stem, "I stole something... But it didn't belong to him and he had no right to take it."  You stated as the Man brought another apple to his hand to pass to you. You took it happily not knowing why you trust this man so much, "I just need to find a boat to stow away on but I haven't eaten in 3 days and your crate of apples looked so good." He examined you seeing your beaten-up features, shaky eyes, and deathly skinny figure. 
The man sighed standing up, "You can board my ship and we can drop you off at the next island." Your eyes light up and you almost jump up in excitement but when your eyes landed on the guards you ducked behind the crates again. "But your trip will not be free you will assist my crew with their daily chorus." You nodded as he handed you another apple and you finished the second one he gave you. He looked over at the guards who were making their way closer to your location. "I'm going to transport you to my medical room on my ship don't be alarmed and stay there until I come and get you." He states before making a quick movement with his hand and you are teleported into a white room with shelves filled with books and medical supplies. 
You couldn't help but peek out the window to see the guards now approaching the man who just assisted you they exchanged words before the guards left and the man turned on his heels and began boarding his ship and exchanged words with a large polar bear in a jumpsuit. That is when it hit you that the man that you were speaking to was none other than Trafalgar Law. Seeing him speak with the large polar bear man that the captain of the Heart Pirates is often seen with and the large sword he carries around is what tipped you off. He was a pirate and you are aboard a Pirate ship.
Your thoughts began to swim on one hand he was kind to you and gave you apples and helped you escape your prison on the other hand he was a famous pirate with a bounty of 200,000,000 berries. You crouch down and hold your head in panic. The door slammed open and the captain of the ship walked in. He paused when he didn't see you sitting on the medical table that he transported you to and his eyes darted around the room till he saw you shaking in the corner of the room. He sighs and continues to walk into the room closing the door behind him, "I guess you realized who I am?" He asked as he walked towards the sink to wash his hands and pour you a glass of water, "I am not going to hurt you." He assured turning around and sitting on the rolling stool that was placed near the medical table. He rolled his way over to you and handed you the glass of water. You looked up to see his inked hands holding the glass and followed up to his eyes that despite having the largest dark circles beneath them looked kind and trusting. 
You took the glass of water and finished it in one gulp. Satisfied with you drinking the water he turned around and rolled his way back to the medical table. "Now if you don't mind I would like to conduct an examination." He gestured over to the table which you slowly walked over to and jumped up onto. You handed him the empty cup and he nodded before turning around to fill your glass up and grabbing his medical tools. 
"You are Trafalgar Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates?" You asked as he handed you the now full glass of water.
"Yes." He responded bluntly before gently pulling up your sleeve and placing a weird tool around your arm. The tool inflated causing a pinch in your arm as he listened closely to your heart rate. 
"Why did you help me?" You asked as he took the tool off your arm and wrote down something on his notepad. 
He looked up at you and you looked into his yellow eyes before he shrugged and spun around gathering another tool. "I don't know." He admitted before turning back and sticking his new tool into your ear looking closely before sliding over to your other ear, "What did you steal from that noble?" He asked as he wrote down something new in his notes. 
"It was something that belonged to my mother." You partially lied which the captain picked up on but chose not to pry. He gestured for you to open your mouth so he could look into it with his tool. 
He turned to his desk and wrote down some final notes before returning with a cup with two pills in it and another glass of water. "You have a very severe case of dehydration and a forming bacterial infection. take these and tomorrow I'll give you two more and you should start feeling better in 3 days." He stated as you took the pills and water with confusion you were so worried about getting caught that you didn't even notice how fatigued you felt which he seemed to notice just from looking at you. 
Unsure of what to say you looked up at him who returned to his notes and was removing his gloves, "thank you" You spoke softly not sure if he could even hear you. 
"You can stay in here for those 3 days there is a hammock that can be pulled out from the ceiling that you can rest in. I'll have my first mate bring you provisions tonight and I'll come by tomorrow morning." He got up and pulled the hammock down from the ceiling and pulled out some blankets and pillows from the closet. 
"You said earlier that I would need to assist with daily chores?" You questioned as he made the hammock comfy for you.
"You will but after you recover. We are going to set sail tomorrow morning and it's going to be a 10-day trip until we reach the next island. Once you recover I'll introduce you to the crew and give you a list of daily tasks." Tears began to fill your eyes you have no idea how you became so lucky to have found someone like him to help free you. 
Law turned around and made his way to the door but paused, "What is your name?"
You paused at that question you haven't heard your name out loud ever since you were bought by your master who just referred to you as slave. "It's... Y/N" You smiled saying your name out loud for the first time in 10 years. 
Law nodded, "Y/n." He said before closing the door. With the door closed you finally let the tears fall from your eyes and a smile covered your face, You were free.
***
Over the next three days, Law kept his promise of arriving in the morning to provide medication and to conduct a check-up to ensure you were recovering. Law would keep his visits brief conducting his check-up asking you if you are feeling better then leave. Bepo would become your number one company as he would visit you with food twice a day. You would ask Bepo questions about his captain and why he was being so kind to you and he would tell you it is because Law is a softy and can't turn away a patient. For the most part, you spent your time sleeping and recovering. Bepo borrowed a uniform from a crewmate named Ikkaku and showed you the shower room when no one was around so you could shower in private. While you showered you looked at the red tattoo that sat on your hip indicating your ownership and you whinced at the memory.
On the third day, you were itching to get out of the medical room. You folded up the blankets and attempted to put the hammock up but it was too high up for you. You then waited patiently on the medical table for the doctor to arrive and clear you to leave the room. 
When Law entered the room he looked exhausted rubbing his eyes. He jumped back a little when you cheerfully wished him a good morning and was sitting on the table kicking your feet. He laughed slightly before walking over to the sink, "I see you are feeling better." He commented as he washed his hands and began his routine.  
"I'm ready to get out of this room." You admit as he began his examination while you followed the movements without him needing to ask. 
He nodded and wrote down a few notes, "You still seem to have some lingering effects from the infection but you seem in good health now but don't take things too hard. Bepo has arranged a bed in the bunks for you to stay in until we arrive at the next island and I have given him a list of tasks you can do together." 
You nodded rolling your sleeve back down as he got up and led the way out of the medical room. You walk down the metal halls both scared and excited, if the rest of the crew is as kind as Bepo and Law then you know the next few days will be easy if they aren't then you fear that the next few days will be hell. 
The two of you walk into a cafeteria of sorts and around 20 crew members where eating their morning breakfast. All eyes darted to the captain when he entered the room followed by you and he instantly had their full attention. "Listen up, this is y/n they will be staying with us for the next few days until we land on the next island. I expect you to treat her well." He then walked out of the room leaving you with the crew looking up at you and you began to panic giving a quick wave. Everyone then turned back to their food and their conversations and you sighed in relief.
You sat next to Bepo who brought you into their conversation. He then showed you where you would be bunking which was the bed directly above his, and then the two of you got to work mopping the floors and cleaning the bathroom neither were hand tasks as the crew keeps everything clean for the most part. 
Over the next couple of days, you completed cleaning tasks around the ship and began to become closer to the crew. Ikkaku was the most excited about your visit as she was no longer the only girl on the ship Penguin and Shachi were much harder to befriend but it turned out they just wanted to haze you with a prank before becoming friendly towards you. You would take showers at night while everyone slept so that you could keep your mark hidden. Law being the insomniac that he is would be the only one who notices you sneak away to the showers each night as you pass his office.
When the tenth day arrived you were surprised to find yourself upset that you would be leaving but you were even more surprised to find Ikkaku, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi standing in Law's office begging for them to "Keep" you as if you were a pet they didn't want to set free. Law kicked them out of his office stating that the decision is up to you not him. The four then pouted outside of the office when they spotted you on your way to Law's office to give him your thanks but you quickly turned around as the four started to run after you begging for you to stay. 
Before you could say anything to the group the ship began shaking. You fell to the wall to brace yourself while everyone around you pushed off the walls to head to the deck to find what was wrong including Law who jumped out of his office dashing down the hall. Once you recovered and got back to your feet you also began to run down the hall following the crew. You ran up onto the deck almost falling to the floor when the ship took another hit causing it to shake again but you held steady on the door frame. The ship was docked on a beach near a town and right out front was a line of Marines who were shooting at the ship and had a large cannon that was aimed at the ship. 
Law stood at the top of the deck using his powers to deflect the bullets while the crew got ready to jump off the ship and attack. You approached Law at the front of the ship who immediately shouted at you to get back but you ignored him as you removed your gloves. You reached your arms out and your eyes began to glow white and a cloud of mist floated out of your hand and towards the Marines who started to fall one by one as they inhaled the mist.
Law's eyes went wide as he watched you easily take out 50 Marines. When the last Marine fell your eyes fluttered back to normal and you began to fall. Law quickly caught you before you reached the ground and lifted you into his arms. You panted into his chest feeling dizzy and tired after using so much of your power.
The crew members jumped off the ship to investigate the fallen Marines and shouted out to their Captain that they had fallen asleep. Law stared down at you in amazement before ordering the crew to prepare to set sail before the Marines woke up. The crew followed their orders and the ship began to move away from the beach but not yet going underwater as Law and you sat on the deck to prevent any decrease in recovery that might be caused by going underwater.
After a few minutes, you finally caught your breath and Law gave you no time to begin asking you questions. "What was that?" he asked curiously as you sat up.
"The Feel Feel fruit. I can make people feel anything just by touching them." You showed your gloveless hand that had 5 dots on your fingers that glowed and shifted colors based on the emotion you were transferring. "I recently learned how to create the emotion mist but it takes a lot out of me." 
Law grabbed your hand curiously and examined it, "How does it work?" He asked.
"At first all I had to do was feel an emotion and touch someone then I learned how to control which emotion was being transferred and my hand changes colors based on that emotion will be transferred. For instance, if I feel sad it will turn black, if I am feeling happy and social it will be Blue, for calm it is grey."
"Like a mood ring?" He asked as he watched the lights shift colors. "What does Gold mean?" He questioned as your hand shifted to gold and stayed there.
"It means a large range of emotions too much for it to pick up on?" You reply but are surprised to watch him place all five of his fingers on top of the glowing dots. His eyes widen as he begins to feel your emotions and when your emotions shift to surprise and the color shifts to Brown his eyes mimic yours shifting in curiosity and surprise. You yank your hand back releasing him from your spell before any other emotions can be transferred to him. But emotions tend to linger so you shifted the color to grey and grabbed his arm shifting his emotions back to calm. 
He shook his head back and breathed calmly now feeling a sensation he had never felt before truly calm and relaxed. "Wow." Was all he could say as he closed his eyes relishing in the moment before it fell off him like a wave.
"Emotions tend to linger even if I were to pass out or end the connection they will remain until the person can calm down and their body starts producing its own chemicals again." You state placing your glove back on your hand knowing how addictive the powers can be. 
You watch Law take a deep breath before returning to his own emotions, "So you aren't just making people feel a particular way you are shifting the chemicals in the brain to make them think they feel a particular way. Interesting. I tried to do that with my Op Op powers so that I wouldn't have to use sedatives on my patients and risk a reaction but the process is extremely complicated with my abilities." He then got off the ground reaching his hand out for you, "Y/N would you please join my crew?" He asked.
You paused you have been used your entire life for your powers and the addictive nature that comes with them but you look up at Law curious and anticipating eyes. "Law...." You start but pause to take a deep breath, "I didn't steal an item from the Noble." You surprised yourself with the confession and you yank your eyes away from the captain looming over you. "I... I stole my freedom... I was his slave." You finally admitted and tears flowed down your eyes. Law noticed and bent back down to your level and pulled your face toward him so he could see your eyes shift black. "He used my powers to control his emotions and became addicted to them, I can't join your crew if that's what you want me to do."
"Y/N I asked you to join my crew because everyone has taken a liking to you. your powers are amazing but you never have to use them when you don't want to. If you join my crew I will never ask you to use your powers in a way you don't want to." You nodded believing his words, "However, because you were once a slave I suggest you take my offer. The world will not be kind to you and the world government will try to return you if you join my crew we can protect you."  He stood up and offered his hand again which you took and he pulled you up to your feet.
The two of you walked into the ship and as soon as the door closed the ship began to sink below the waterline. 
***
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sebastianswallows · 2 years ago
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Beautiful memories — Chapter 1
— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)
— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.
— WARNINGS: angst, just a lot of angst (eventually there will be fluff and smut, but in later chapters)
— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k
— A/N: This fic is for a prompt by @pugsnotdrugs92, and I was also asked to write a similar fic by at least one anon.
Sadly, since she gave me that prompt, Pugs has deleted her blog. I have just learned this tonight and I am... pretty damn upset, I'll say that (not at her of course 💗, but at what caused it).
I will just say that if you get hate from anyone, block them, block indiscriminately until you have peace. I hope that Pugs (and anyone who deleted their blog as part of this mess) will make an account on this hellsite again one day <3
Anyway! On with the fic. Hope you enjoy it, my dears 🌺
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Nobody had any idea who turned Sebastian in. It came so unexpectedly that they almost didn’t believe it when he happened. After all, it had been two years since Solomon’s death, and everyone in Feldcroft believed he died in his sleep.
“I know it isn’t me,” she said tearfully to Ominis one day, “and I know it isn’t you.”
“And it wasn’t Anne either,” said Ominis with a shake of his head.
“Are you sure? She still isn’t speaking to Sebastian.”
“She protected him this whole time, why would she report him to the ministry now? She might not forgive Sebastian, but she wouldn’t do this to him…”
Their suspicions fell on Leander, or the goblins, or any number of rivals Sebastian had made, but none of their suspects were likely to even know the truth about what happened that day in the catacomb. It therefore stood to reason that someone had overheard them speaking about it at some point, but that did little to narrow it down — for all they knew, one of the portraits had heard them and reported it to the Headmaster.
Ultimately, it didn’t matter who told the Aurors about it. The trio rushed through their N.E.W.T.S. half-heartedly, with Sebastian unsurprisingly scoring lower than he ever had, and in their spare time they spoke of nothing but the upcoming trial.
They’d even arranged for a solicitor for Sebastian, and visited him via floo in London, but he only spoke to his client in private. And every time Sebastian walked out of the wizard’s office, he looked more discouraged than the last.
The trial took place during summer, right after their 7th year ended. Both she and Ominis attended it every day. Imelda came sometimes as well, and Poppy, and Lucan — even Garreth attended on two occasions. He’d never liked Sebastian much, but he seemed to put aside his feelings throughout all of this.
“They don’t mean to send him there, do they?” he whispered as they sat outside the courtroom one sweltering afternoon.
“Where else?” said Imelda. “They closed all the other wizarding prisons centuries ago.”
“But he’s supposed to have done it while he was still a student…”
“What d’you expect? That they’ll give him detention for murder?”
“No, but…”
“You don’t think he really did it, do you, Imelda?” asked Poppy, leaning over Garreth.
“He didn’t,” said Ominis without even glancing their way.
“That’s right,” she said from beside Ominis. “Sebastian’s done nothing wrong.”
The trial went badly almost from the start. The judge was a grey old wizard in a funny wig, and there was no jury to speak of. He seemed to treat the death of a former Auror, even one of such ill repute as Solomon, quite seriously. The Prosecution leaned into that every chance they got.
Anne was called to give testimony in the first week, and she confessed under oath what she had found when she reached the catacombs, which was enough to shock the court. Sebastian’s friends took courage from the fact that she had not actually seen what killed Solomon, but it was only a matter of the judge drawing a line between a quick succession of events.
Ominis was called to the stand as well, but lied shamelessly. Even the threat of Veritaserum from the Prosecution didn’t sway him. He knew none of them would dare submit a Gaunt to that — a rare occasion of his family name amounting to something. However, him being Sebastian’s oldest friend cast doubt upon his entire deposition…
And then, she was called to give testimony as well. Unlike Ominis, she was not sure she could afford to lie, but nothing could get her to betray Sebastian.
All that she could remember was that Solomon attacked the both of them, and both she and Sebastian felt quite threatened by him, and then somehow, between the flying curses and roving Inferi, Uncle Solomon fell dead. But that happened, after all, more than two years ago, Your Honour, and it was in a dark and gloomy cave — and oh, what were they doing there? Objection. Relevance?
Ominis and the others congratulated her on well she held her own, but deep down, she felt like she had let her best friend down — her statement didn’t put the blame on Sebastian, but neither did it exonerate him.
By the time the trial was approaching the end, their former classmates had stopped coming, and only she and Ominis were left.
“He looks so —”
“I know,” said Ominis, not wanting to hear her describe him. This was on the last day, and the judge would give the verdict.
Guilty. Six months in Azkaban.
The courtroom reverberated with murmurs from the crowd — some in approval, others in outrage.
It was a horrible sentence to hear, but it was not as bad as their worst fears — people were often given life imprisonment for the Unforgivables. Fortunately, in Sebastian’s case, there was not enough conclusive evidence either way. Still, if they were to appeal, it would take longer than six months to even have a new judge assigned to the case, so they were left with no choice but to accept it.
As the Aurors led Sebastian away, she and Ominis stood together and called out useless encouragements to their friend, telling him to have courage, to be strong, have faith that he would soon be free, but he went with the guards without looking back at them…
Most of their former classmates were shocked but seemed to think the six-month sentence would pass quickly. They knew Azkaban was pretty horrible and could remember a few things from their DADA class, but none of them was truly educated on the nature of Dementors. Ominis was. He’d been in their presence when he and his father went to visit an uncle of his who’d been sentenced for murdering a muggle. He claimed it was the worst experience he’d ever had in his life — worse than Crucio, in its own way. He still remembered how the despair lingered inside him for days.
And as time passed, she became aware of something lingering within herself as well…
By the fourth month, she had to use concealment charms around her waist when she went out in public. Ominis figured it out on his own — it was probably that echolocation spell he used to get around. He’d merely been suspicious at first, but by the fifth month…
“Can anyone else see?!”
“No, and they won’t if you just stop —”
“But this could ruin your reputation!”
“Don’t you think I know that?!”
“I can’t believe you! How c—”
“Ominis, shut up,” she hissed.
“But you —”
“It’s Sebastian’s!”
“… Oh. I suppose that makes it better, then.”
From then on, Ominis supported her and helped her in any way he could — which admittedly wasn’t much, as he was still getting used to living on his own after being freed from his family’s clutches. And either way, the first few months were gentle enough on her that she could cope well enough on her own. The only help she needed was preparing her small flat to host two people — and eventually three — which meant some creative furniture transfiguration to fit everything in too small a space.
Christmas arrived in the meanwhile, then the New Year. They had tried writing to him every month by then, but the authorities kept sending their letters back — none were allowed for fear of concealed enchantments, they said, and no visitations were allowed either for lower-class prisoners. It broke her heart to know him all alone throughout those rotten months and all through the holidays. Neither she nor Ominis found it in them to celebrate anything that year…
Sebastian was released in February. They wouldn’t be allowed on the island of Azkaban, but they could see him at the Ministry, where he would be transported before he was officially freed.
She and Ominis got there at sunrise, and waited for hours.
Sebastian’s assigned solicitor couldn’t be there, as he had another case, but he sent a house elf to sign the release form in his name. Anne hadn’t come either, but that was hardly a surprise…
The two of them sat alone in a busy hallway, watching witches and wizards pass through — some going in, some going out — until finally, late in the afternoon, the Auror at the front desk told them that inmate Sallow would be arriving within minutes.
“Here, here, they said this will be the exit,” she said, pulling on Ominis’ sleeve.
Two large wooden doors lay open out of which a long dark hallway extended like a neck, and on either side were doors being shut and open of ministry workers travelling through. There was constantly a small crowd of people darkening that space even further.
“I think that’s him,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes when she spotted a dark ruffled head of hair.
“Alright, stay calm,” said Ominis, taking her hand to settle her. Since he’d realised that she was pregnant, he was instinctively more protective.
“Oh, it is! It is him!” she said with tears in her happy voice.
Sebastian was led out of one of those side doors — dressed in a grey and black prisoner’s uniform, his hands and feet chained, terribly thin and tired and bent at the back, and looking as if he hadn’t slept for days…
“Sebastian!” she called out, waving to him with the hand that wasn’t in Ominis’ grasp. “Over here!”
He looked up slowly, as if doubting that he’d heard his name called. His eyes searched blearily through the crowd ahead, not really focusing anywhere, but then they fell on her. She grinned brightly when she caught his gaze.
“Y-you came?” he said, looking at the two of them like they were a dream come true.
“Of course,” she said.
“Surely you didn’t expect anything else,” grinned Ominis.
“I… I need to go somewhere, they’re taking me to… to…” He didn’t have time to explain before Aurors led him around the corner and to another room, for processing.
“We’ll be here,” she called out after him, “we’ll wait for you!”
“How does he look?” whispered Ominis. “He sounded quite weak.”
“He looks… the way he sounded,” she said, “but he’ll be alright… He has to be. We’ll make sure of it.”
Less than thirty minutes later, Sebastian stepped back outside. He was now dressed the way he was when they arrested him: a faded green sweater and black trousers with worn old leather shoes. The clothes hung on his lanky frame, his face was all angles and shadows, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a wash in the whole six months. He was, of course, without his wand as well — they’d broken that after his sentencing.
But there was a still little light still left in his eyes, and it shone when he saw his friends again. He called out her name and Ominis’, and walked toward them with feeble brisk steps.
“I can’t believe it,” he grinned weakly, his steps growing bolder the closer he got to his friends. “I never thought —”
But then he noticed their joined hands, and her swollen stomach, and it nearly stopped him in his tracks. He only caught the sight for a second before she let go of Ominis and rushed to embrace him.
“Seb,” she cried out as she jumped into his arms. She clung to his neck like a lifeline. “I’ve missed you so much…”
“I’ve… missed you too,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.
She buried her face in his neck while Sebastian’s eyes fell to Ominis — who embraced him too from the other side in an uncharacteristic display of affection, before he stood back timidly.
“How… erm, how are you?” he asked with a nervous smile, feeling more happy than he cared to admit, and relieved to have his friend back in one piece.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sebastian. Gently, he dropped the girl from his arms and slowly pulled away.
“Of course,” she said, wiping her tears and stepping back, but keeping his hand clasped in hers. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to say anything. We just came to take you home. It’s alright now… You’re free, you’re finally back. We’ve missed you so much…”
“Home?” said Sebastian, looking between her and Ominis coolly. “Whose home is that?”
“Well… whichever one you want,” she said. “Yours or mine or…”
“I don’t think I’m ready to see Feldcroft again,” said Sebastian. “But I wouldn’t want to… impose on either of you.”
“What?” frowned Ominis. “Don’t be stup— I mean, don’t worry about that, Sebastian.”
“Oh, is there something to worry about?” he asked.
“Well —”
“We don’t need to discuss that —”
“— here.”
“— now.”
“… I see.”
“Don’t concern yourself with anything,” she smiled, stepping up to him again and embracing him loosely. “Let’s leave this horrible place first…”
They made their way out of the ministry building and through the cold London streets toward Diagon Alley, and his friends talked to him excitedly about the things that had happened: what their former classmates were doing, what they knew about Anne, even the latest Quidditch matches.
They probably felt less cheerful than they seemed, but their enthusiasm was overflowing as they prattled on about all the normal things people their age should care about, almost as if nothing bad had happened at all. They laughed, and smiled, and rubbed his back, and all the while there was in Sebastian’s gait much of the same imprisoned and defeated look as there had been when he was led out of the courtroom at his sentencing.
“We wrote to you while you were there,” she said as they approached the Leaky Cauldron.
“But the damned guards never delivered them,” said Ominis.
Sebastian listened in silence, and they tacitly agreed it was because of what he had been through. He would open up to both of them in time, they were certain…
They decided to have lunch at the Cauldron since neither of them had eaten anything since morning — and they didn’t even wish to think of the food in Azkaban. They ordered sausages and eggs and mashed potatoes and a great big serving of pickled pumpkin.
Sebastian ate the least out of the three of them — and what he didn’t finish, she devoured. Ominis hid his chuckle behind a cough, while Sebastian could barely look at her. If she noticed it, she didn’t say. She just kept smiling and laughing along with Ominis…
More than ever in Azkaban, he wished he could dig a hole for himself through which to disappear. The Leaky Cauldron was noisy and crowded, the smell of food made his stomach turn, and every scrape of a chair was like a scratch across his brain. Even sitting down was uncomfortable, his muscles too thin and his back too weak to hold him. He moved uncomfortably from one position to another, and let his friends prattle on to fill the emptiness between them.
After almost an hour, they decided to leave, and Sebastian nodded in agreement.
“I’m seeing someone at the ministry next Wednesday about a position,” said Ominis as they walked toward the fireplace. “But I can stop by afterwards if that’s alright.”
“Of course,” she said. “You’re always welcome, you know that.”
“Do you have enough chocolate at home? I can bring some more.”
“Shelves full of it,” she laughed. “But more is always a good idea. I suspect we’ll need it.”
“Well, I’ll bid you two goodbye for now, then,” said Ominis as he waved them off, blissfully oblivious to what was going through Sebastian’s mind.
“Goodbye,” she said with a tearful smile, letting go of Sebastian for a brief while to hug their friend once more.
“I’ll let you know before I arrive on Wednesday.”
“Not to worry, Ominis. We’ll be alright… Everything will be alright now.”
“I hope so…”
“And good luck with your interview!”
“Thank you… Although I’m not sure I want it.”
“Thank you, Ominis,” said Sebastian tiredly. “For… everything.”
“Don’t be silly,” he smiled. “I’m glad to have you back. We both are. Just focus on getting well again…”
Sebastian nodded, not feeling that any of their kind words were true. He disappeared in the green flames with her, wishing for once to not appear on the other end.
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thecrazywriter7182006 · 19 days ago
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The journey of Batman (Also on my A03) chapters 1-3
Chapter 1
Bruce was looking at the batcomputer about the orphaned Dick Grayson…
”Master Bruce what are you looking at” Bruce turned around looked at Alfred “When I went on my date a couple days ago…a family who was involved in the circus…the parents died and their son was left orphaned” Alfred looked sad “That poor boy…seeing his parents die” Bruce nodded knowing the damage that could cause.
”Master Bruce are you think of adopting the boy?” Bruce looked shocked “What…no I” Alfred cut him off “I help raised you…I know your face when you are determined to do something” Bruce looked down “Money won’t be a problem but we must get things ready for the boy…a room, school, hiding this” Bruce nodded “I know Alfred…I’m going to get everything started”
Bruce worked on getting the room ready and he had everything he thought the boy would like, Alfred smiled watching Bruce do this…Bruce hadn’t shown a lot of emotions since his parents but this had made him come back to his emotions that Alfred missed…maybe being a dad could be a good thing for Bruce.
Bruce was nervous at the adopting agency “Mr. Wayne…follow me” Bruce followed the woman into her office “You wish the adopt Richard Grayson…do you know what had happened to the boy” Bruce nodded “I was there when his parents passed” the woman nodded “Being a parent to a child like Richard will need a lot of attention…no more partying”
Bruce nodded “I know…I want to take care of him” the woman nodded “Well something must be done first like a wellness check to make sure your household is appropriate for a child, paperwork, and meeting the boy” Bruce looked slightly excited and nervous to meet the boy “I can arrange for you to meet the boy now, if you wish” Bruce nodded.
After an hour, the woman brought Bruce to Richard “Richard we have a visitor for you” Richard looked at him “W-who are you” Bruce smiled and walked over and sat down “I’m Bruce Wayne…it’s nice to meet you” Richard looked at Bruce’s hand that he had out to shake and Richard reluctantly shook his hand “What..do you want” Bruce smiled “I wanted to see how you were doing I was there that night” Richard looked upset at the mention of the night and Bruce hugged the boy “I’m sorry..it’s going to be okay”
The woman watched how Bruce was with Richard and smiled.
“Be on the look out for the wellness check” Bruce nodded and left…slightly happier than he had been since his parents died.
Chapter 2
The wellness check had went well and everything else was perfect so now, Bruce had legally adopted Richard.
Bruce was driving home with Richard “So Richard…I’ve got a room set up for you” Richard looked at him and nodded “I will have to get you enrolled at an elementary school” Richard nodded “You hungry?”
Richard shook his head, Bruce nodded and just drove home.
Bruce walked Richard in “Ah Master Bruce, welcome back and…this must be the new young master” Bruce nodded “What’s your name little one” Richard looked at Alfred “Richard but I prefer Dick” Alfred nodded “Young Master Dick, welcome” Bruce smiled and showed Dick to his room.
“Here you are Dick” Dick looked shocked “You called me Dick” Bruce nodded “You told Alfred you preferred being called Dick and I want to make you happy” Dick nodded slowly.
During the night, Bruce heard Dick screaming and he rushed into his room and saw him tossing and turning on his bed screaming.
Bruce grabbed Dick and woke him up and Dick just cried and Bruce held him “Shh…it’s going to be okay” Dick just cried in Bruce’s arms “I’m here…your not alone” eventually after a while Bruce and Dick fell asleep together.
Chapter 3
Bruce looked at Dick as he played with his food only eating some food…Bruce was worried for his new son…son he liked the sound of that.
Bruce had gotten back from school and saw Dick playing with toys “Hey Dick” Dick just waved at Bruce.
“I liked the toy cars growing up” Dick nodded “There cool” Bruce nodded “Yeah they are”
Dick just played as Bruce watched smiling, Alfred watched from a far…he was happy Bruce had found something that brought joy to his life.
Bruce was still doing his Batman thing fighting criminals but he hated leaving Dick…was this what all parents felt he knew everyone that had a kid said that being away hurt but….like this…it was almost too much for him.
Eventually Bruce decided to give Dick an allowance “Dick come here please” Dick walked over looked at Bruce “Y-yes” Bruce handed Dick 800 dollars “Here’s your allowance” Dick’s eyes widen “800 dollars?”
Bruce looked worried “I knew it wasn’t enough, I’m sorry” Dick shook his head “No thsi is just a lot…thank you” Bruce sighed and smiled “Your welcome”
Bruce took Dick to the mail so he could spend his allowance and as they were shopping, paparazzi ran up to Bruce and started taking photos of him and Dick and Bruce hid Dick.
“Bruce who is that?” A reporter asked and Bruce looked at her “A minor that’s who and if you have a pictures of him and you post them, I will buy your agency and fire you now leave us alone” The reporters backed away scared as they had never seen Bruce like that before.
As they continued to shop, Dick looked at Bruce “Who were those people” Bruce sighed “Vultures that’s who, don’t worry I won’t let them bother you okay” Dick nodded.
Late at night, Bruce was on the phone with his PR manger “No! I don’t care that I’m famous I don’t want my son blastered all over the Gotham times and other news stations! If one photo is posted with Richard in it, but the entire company immediately” the PR manger just agreed.
“Everything alright Master Bruce” Bruce looked at Alfred “Yeah just some paparazzi took photos of me and Dick and I don’t want him to go through what I did..growing up in the spot light isn’t the best” Bruce looked at a scar he had on his wrist.
“I won’t let Dick go through that, no matter what he won’t go through that shit”
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ladykailitha · 1 year ago
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Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 10
Just two more chapters to go and then this little story is done. I'm glad I wrote it. It was very cathartic for me. I hope it brought some comfort to you too.
Here we find out who Steve has been grieving this whole time and that Eddie mourned them too.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
****
Steve was quiet and contemplative on the trip back. And Eddie let him be. That was quite the roller coaster of emotion he had gone through and he knew Steve needed time to sort out all of his thoughts and feelings.
As they neared Ashland, Eddie asked, “Are you okay? It got pretty heavy back there.”
“Sorry,” Steve murmured.
“I wasn’t asking for forgiveness,” Eddie admonished gently. “I was asking if you were okay.”
Steve sighed. “I guess I just had so many things bottled up that it all came out in a rush.”
“So talk to me,” Eddie said softly. “I know you think you can’t talk to anyone else because they’re all younger than you. But I’m not. So spill.”
Steve let out a long shuddering breath as if he had been holding it in for years.
“It’s just there have only ever been two adults involved in the whole Upside Down shit,” Steve murmured. “Well, there have been others, but either they haven’t been trustworthy or they’ve died. And I’m not going to lie and say I’m not bitter about Mrs Byers taking her family out to California and leaving me as the remaining adult.”
“Oh shit,” Eddie said softly. He hadn’t even thought about that. “That wasn’t right. I get she was trying to get Will and El as far away from Hawkins as she could, but considering the frequency of the U.D. coming back, it does seem selfish when looked at from your point of view.”
“El wasn’t the only one grieving Hopper’s death,” Steve spat out. “Why were only her feelings taken into consideration? Why was his funeral ‘a private family’ affair instead of one benefiting a hero where the whole town could attend? Why was El the first one that got to see him? Why did it take days before anyone else was informed?”
Eddie saw a shoulder and pulled off onto it, the Bimmer crunching the gravel as it slowed to a stop.
“It must have been so hard on you,” Eddie murmured. “You mentioned back at the diner that he always looked out for you and then suddenly he was gone and no one thought to ask you if you needed time to grieve, right?”
Steve nodded. “I just felt so stupid after it was announced that he was alive, you know? Like how dare I mourn someone who hadn’t even died. But I thought that once everything settled down we would get a chance to talk, but nope. He went off to California with the Byers. They’re supposed all be back before school starts, but who knows if that’s even true.”
“Steve it isn’t stupid you grieved,” Eddie murmured. “But I bet if you told him what you’ve been feeling, he’d pretty upset that he hurt you like that.”
Tears started streaming down Steve’s face. “I just want to be loved as much I love them, is that really too much to ask for?”
Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him in for a hug. “Of course it’s not. And I don’t doubt if you stopped to really think about it you can name at least a half a dozen people who love you as much as you love them.”
Steve let out a watery chuckle. “I could probably fill up all ten of my fingers, if I was honest to myself.”
Eddie wiped away his tears. “There you have it, big boy. But it’s okay to cry and if you feel like you need to fall apart, call me. I’ll come over with beer, weed, and bad horror films to mock until you laugh.”
Steve wiped his nose on his arm. “You promise?”
Eddie leaned back far enough to hold up his pinkie. “I pinkie promise.”
Steve hooked his finger around Eddie’s and shook on it.
“You ready to face the road again?” Eddie asked.
Steve nodded. After a moment or two of silence, he spoke up. “You remember when ‘fake’ cried for Keith?” He used his fingers around the word fake to put it into air quotes.
Eddie, who was about to pull into traffic again, cut the engine. “Holy shit. It was Hopper, wasn’t it? That’s who you were remembering.”
Steve nodded. “It’s easy to cry when thinking about him, you know?”
“Because it’s new and even though he’s not dead, you never got your resolution?”
Steve nodded again. “I just feel so selfish about the whole thing, you know. He wasn’t my dad. I wasn’t related to him in anyway. But I thought I meant something to him, you know?”
Eddie turned the car back on and eased into traffic. “I’m sure you meant a lot to him, but there could be extenuating circumstances that prevented him from expressing that. Like I said before, I bet if you told him how you felt he’d be gutted.”
Steve just shrugged.
Eddie glanced over at him and then back at the road. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll tell Dustin about the time you flirted with his mom to get the brownie recipe.”
Steve’s went wide. “That was not flirting! I was just buttering her up a bit. That’s not the same thing.”
“Oh I know that,” Eddie said with a grin. “But would Dustin know the difference?”
Steve thought about it for a moment. “You drive a hard bargain, Lord Eddie.”
Eddie giggled. “You know, sometimes I forget you like ‘Star Wars’, you just aren’t great with their titles.”
“The third one is my favorite, after all.”
Eddie cleared his throat. “So back when I was just little metalhead, dealing for the first time one of my best customers was the Chief.”
Steve blinked. “Oh wait, I think I did hear something about that. I’m surprised he wasn’t fired.”
Eddie shrugged. “He wasn’t up for re-election. Sheriffs are elected. And small town like Hawkins, change is difficult. Hop would have to straight up murder babies in town hall and smear their blood over the church walls to get people to not vote for him.”
Steve snorted. “I doubt even then. It would take him being soft on homosexuals before they ousted him.”
Eddie laughed. “You’ve got me there.”
Steve smiled at him.
“So,” Eddie continued, “the reason I bring it up is that despite what people think, I’ve never been arrested for dealing and Rick hadn’t either until Hop ‘died’.”
Steve straightened up in his seat. “What do you mean?”
“Hop always said it was better to steer Rick away from certain places because he could,” Eddie said, “then it was to arrest him and have an all out war with the new supplier.”
Steve’s eyes went wide. “That’s why Rick didn’t get arrested until Powell took over because he didn’t have the same philosophy that Hop did.”
“Right in one,” he said. “And it did get bad with people trying to fill the void he left behind. Uncle Wayne convinced to stop selling once I was out until Rick was released because I couldn’t trust the new suppliers not to cut their shit with something dangerous.”
“Holy shit, yeah,” Steve agreed. “So why are you telling me this?”
“Because Hop looked out for me, too,” Eddie said. “Especially when my old man rolled into town. He would make sure he got to the carnage first and made sure I never got a record.”
Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “That makes since I always wondered why the police or Jason never brought up your arrest record. It’s because Hop made sure you never got one.”
“So this is me saying,” Eddie finished, “I get it. I get mourning him. Because in my own way I mourned him, too. Because between Hop and Uncle Wayne they made sure I could get out of Hawkins when the time came.”
“This is exactly why I pushed for a public funeral,” Steve grumbled, sinking back into his seat and crossing his arms. “I don’t know who had the final say on that, but it makes me mad that just because they didn’t have a body people in town wouldn’t want to come see anyway. It blows.”
“Here’s that,” Eddie agreed.
Too soon they were pulling up the Nelsons’ and the sun was starting to set.
By silent agreement they both got out of the car and sat on Steve’s hood to watch the sunset in a beautiful array of blues and purples until the sky darkened and the stars came out.
“Thank you for today,” Steve murmured. “For all of it. Getting me out here, taking me to my grandmother’s grave, sitting with me when I talked to Uncle Percy. Helping me with my grief even though yours is far more fresh and painful than mine.”
“Grief is grief, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. ��You don’t get to decide when it heals over. You were there for me when my dad showed up, so I was more than happy to return the favor with your family.”
“Thanks, man,” Steve said.
“So...” Eddie said. “You want to tell me why you and your uncle weren’t keen to let your other uncle see you?”
Steve snorted. “He’s the one that was the most against my mom getting any kind of inheritance. He didn’t think she should have gotten anything because she was a girl child. He kept saying that she got her money in the form of the lavish wedding she had when she married my dad.”
He ran his fingers through his hair.
“He’s sued her at least three times that I know of. If he had seen me he would have started screaming about how my mom didn’t deserve that money and that I was just as complicit in its ‘theft’ as she was.”
“But he got the house or whatever it was, right?” Eddie asked.
He nodded. “Yeah and the two acres of land it sits on. If he were to sell it would go for at least a few million, easy.”
“I’ll bet,” Eddie said, whistling long and low. “Which means Percy got the business?”
“Which another thing that upset Uncle Jasper,” Steve said. “But Uncle Percy is the oldest and had the best business sense, but he can’t let it go that he thinks his siblings got the better deal.”
“I heard this quote once about how some people are content in life, but that others just can’t be. That they will always seek more. Nothing will ever be enough.”
“Uncle Jasper is definitely one of those.”
Penny poked her head out the front door. “Come on in, boys, it’s really getting late.”
Eddie and Steve stood up and walked back into the house, feeling lighter then they had since before March.
****
Pt 11|Pt 12
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster @r0binscript @awkotaco24 @ilikeititspretty
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tiddygame · 6 months ago
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Ghoap god type au part 6!
Ao3 /// part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7 /// part 8 /// part 9
hello once again beautiful people! like i said, new chapter much sooner. the next one might be a bit more of a wait as it's not even fully drafted yet, but fuck it we ball :)
there will be 11 chapters on here [10 on ao3 as 1 and 2 are combined over there] so we're just at the halfway mark! I think this chapter might be my favorite so far, i hope you enjoy it as well!
@imjustheretofightforlove / @pieckyghost / @life-as-a-gamergirl
[and lmk if you want to be tagged!]
“Any more injured soldiers who need rescuing?” Ghost asked, not looking up from sharpening his hunting knife.
“None that you could help,” Soap answered, ignoring the sarcasm in Ghost’s tone and joining him by the fire. He was somehow completely dry despite having walked in from the downpour outside.
The little overhang he had set up his camp under didn’t offer much protection from the rain. It looked like mother nature decided to give up on making a cave as soon as she began, but it was enough cover that his meek fire and (incredibly ungrateful) horse would have at least some protection from the encroaching storm.
Ghost didn’t respond, instead choosing to focus on keeping the correct angle as he dragged the blade along the whetstone, the grating noise muffled by the rain. Taxes snorted her own greeting but still sounded rather upset that Ghost had the audacity to put her in a situation where she got her coat a little wet.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Soap pet Taxes and run his fingers through her mane, walk around his hastily put together camp, look out at the rain, and eventually meander back to sit across from Ghost. Soap’s leg was bouncing; he obviously wanted to talk about something that had him antsy, but Ghost was perfectly fine to let him stew in his anxiety.
Soap managed to sit still for one whole minute before he tried to start a conversation. “You’ve been doing that for a while…?” he prompted, hoping Ghost would want to talk about his current task.
“Yeah,” he answered, still not looking at the god nor for conversation. The edge of his knife had rolled a few days ago and it was not a quick task to grind it back and resharpen it. Lightning crackled and Ghost counted the time between the boom of thunder; As viscous as the rain was, the storm was still a ways away.
Soap nodded slowly and began tapping his fingers on his leg, turning from him to look around at the rain, almost intentionally awkward. “So…” Soap drew out the word, apparently finding a new topic to try, “What are you doing camping in this weather?”
Ghost wasn’t in the mood for whatever the god was trying to pull and grunted dismissively, “Could ask you something similar.”
“Aye, but I asked first,” Soap childishly retorted.
He paused his sharpening and scowled at the god but eventually acquiesced. “Hunting.”
There was a moment of silence, Soap expecting (and hoping) for more information, but Ghost stopped there. He let the silence linger before continuing his sharpening, cutting through the quiet and giving a clear indication that he was done with his answer.
“Well, what were you hunting for?” The god asked, still trying to have a conversation. His effort was admirable, though likely ill-fated.
“Food.”
Soap bit his cheek and tried for the fifth time to prompt him into a chat, “Yes, what kind of food?”
“Edible.”
Soap groaned loudly in frustration, his accent heavier in his annoyance, “Yer a pain in the fucking arse, Ghost.”
“Thank you.”
His gratitude didn’t help and Soap huffed and crossed his arms as he glared at Ghost. 
Soap, the god of death, was pouting. Ghost determinedly stared down at his task, trying not to laugh at the display. 
Gathering himself, he figured it was about time he got his weekly kindness out of the way and answered, “Stocks were running low — I offered to go hunting and the general agreed, but the rain caught me off guard.” 
Soap was disproportionately happy at the fact that Ghost was humoring him, excited that Ghost offered more than a one word answer.
Then again, he was the only one the god could talk to, so maybe it wasn’t disproportionate for someone who’d— No, no. He was not going to be tricked into feeling bad for a fucking god of all things. Even if he did feel oddly compelled to talk to the god after seeing how happy he got at his simple reply.
“Did the general actually agree or…?” Soap asked, knowing Ghost’s tendencies.
“He did. And no, I don’t know why either.” Considering his last “hunting trip” ended in a he-said, she-said shouting match he was just as surprised that the general agreed, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Are you sure it’s not a trap?”
“No.”
His simple answer got a small chuckle, though one tainted by worry. He didn’t care if it was a trap, he got the go ahead to be away from camp for four whole days without a search party going after him. There were very few punishments that could make him regret agreeing to that.
Soap sat in thought before he asked, “You really don’t like him do you?”
Ghost scoffed, “The general? Fuck no. I hate that bastard.”
He could see the question Soap almost asked before he changed his mind and switched to a less intrusive question. “You always call him general—”
Ghost grunted in affirmation, inspecting the freshly sharpened edge on his knife. Still unhappy with it, he added a bit more water to his whetstone and got back to sharpening.
“—Why?”
Ghost was confused for a moment before he remembered that he was talking to Soap and not just obsessing over getting his knife to his impossible standards.
“He never cared to learn my name so I never cared to learn his.” It was unfortunately not a joke. He thinks he might have known it at one point, but his passive aggressive response had gone on for so long that he genuinely did not know his name.
Soap asked, “He doesn’t call you Ghost? What does he call you?” 
“He does call me Ghost,” he corrected with a confused glance.
Soap tilted his head like a confused puppy. “Is… that not your name?”
“No?” Ghost more asked than said, confused. “What the hell kind of a name is Ghost?”
Soap began, “Well I dunno—”
Ghost huffed a small, quiet laugh and when he saw the god looked embarrassed he clarified, “It’s just a nickname.”
“So this entire time I’ve been calling you Ghost…” Soap looked more than embarrassed, horrified at the idea that he had been calling Ghost by the wrong name. 
Ghost tried not to chuckle but the abject horror from the other over such a simple thing made him snicker. When the god’s face fell further, he did not feel bad for him, but he did decide to throw him a little bit more kindness and clarified further, “I’m being petty towards the general. You didn’t get my name wrong.”
Soap heaved a sigh of relief but still looked put off by the revelation. It was hard to hold onto his fear of the god when he always seemed so… so earnest. For fuck’s sake, it looked like he was going through the worst day of his immortal life over a possible nickname mishap.
“And no,” Ghost added before he could ask, “I’m not telling you my name.”
Soap slumped, even more put out and Ghost certainly did not smile at his apparent disappointment.
He continued his sharpening in silence, or, well, neither of them were talking at least. The rain was still hammering away with occasional lightning and thunder. The wind was harsh, pushing in and making sheets of rain look like curtains billowing in the breeze.
Ghost examined the knife again and was much more pleased this go around. He stood slowly, his joints popping along the way, and held the knife under the rainfall, rinsing it off. He rolled up his sleeve and tested the sharpness by shaving some hair off of his arm, satisfied to find it was able to cut through with ease.
He carefully wiped off the knife and found his holster, safely storing it away. He dropped it by where he had been sitting and grabbed his dagger from his satchel,  inspecting the edge on it as well. It wasn’t as bad, but he might as well sharpen it while he has the time.
He turned to go back to the fire but stopped when he saw Soap had scooted over, examining the hunting knife Ghost dropped. It was a basic knife, the only interesting thing about it was the shitty construction of the handle that led to the wood below the last pin chipping off on one side. It seemed to have Soap enraptured nonetheless.
Deciding not to bother with asking, Ghost took his place by the fire once more, making sure to give Soap space, lest he suddenly get any grand ideas with that knife. He rewet the stone and got back to work, keeping the god in sight.
When Soap was done with his inspection, he turned to watching Ghost work, surprisingly content with watching the simple task in silence. Which meant it was time for Ghost to return the favor of disrupting the peace.
“You never said why you decided to grace me with your presence,” he pointed out, sarcasm dripping from the regal phrasing with the raspy noise of the dagger dragging across the stone punctuating his sentence. The god had leaned closer in his curiosity, watching the slow process like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
“Hmm?” Soap asked, looking up from where he had hunched, not paying attention but processing the question before Ghost had to repeat it. “Oh, right… I just felt lonely.”
He would have believed it if the god weren’t refusing to even look in his general direction. That was the other thing that made it hard to cling to his fear — the bastard was an awful liar.
Ghost paused his handiwork and stared him down, admonishing, “Soap.” He didn’t add anything else, he didn’t need to. Soap squirmed a bit but cracked quickly.
“You didn’t leave an offering this morning,” the god mumbled, looking down at the ground. 
Ghost had to think for a moment, only then realizing that he forwent breakfast that morning to get away from camp as quickly as he could, meaning he also forwent leaving an offering when he ate “with” the god as he normally would have done. 
Soap didn’t look angry, but if he came down from the heavens expressly because of a missed offering, then maybe Ghost had misjudged him. Maybe Soap was actually a fantastic liar and just carefully crafted these supposed slip-ups to make Ghost lower his guard. Maybe Soap was—
“I was worried,” Soap said, still refusing to look at him. If part of his preplanned ruse was to look like a kicked puppy, then he nailed it.
Staring him down, Ghost dropped his tools and blindly reached for his bag, searching for one of the apples he brought for Taxes. As soon as his hand wrapped around it, he threw it to the god with a little too much force for how small the distance between them was.
Soap was unprepared and caught it against his chest. Once he realized what it was, he, if anything, looked sadder. Ghost was unsure if Soap was disappointed in the meager offering or disappointed that he lost the potential leverage over him.
Thunder bellowed. 
“This… is not what I meant,” Soap sighed, “I thought you had given up on food offerings.”
Ghost shrugged, “You’re not getting my knife or my whetstone.” He punctuated the sentence by dragging the knife across the whetstone slightly faster, making the noise just a bit more audible under the pounding rain.
“That’s not what I meant either.”
“Sucks for you,” Ghost retorted like a petulant child, inspecting the edge. The dagger wasn’t perfect, but it was better than it had been and his hands were starting to cramp, so good enough. “I don’t have anything to offer.” 
Ghost let the white lie roll off his tongue with ease. He wanted to see how the god would react to such a blatantly false statement. Everyone always had something that could be taken if it was not given. “Take it or leave it.”
“Leave it,” Soap said, throwing it back with notably less force than Ghost had. He caught it and stared at the god, unimpressed, before dropping it to the floor uncaringly.
Soap stated with conviction, “I didn’t come down here to collect my dues, you don’t owe me anything.” Then he added on as if he were reluctant to admit, “I was worried about you.”
“Why?” Ghost asked simply, busying his nervous hands with cleaning off the dagger.
“You’ve given me offerings every morning. I was worried you got hurt and I didn’t notice or something even worse,” the god replied, managing to dodge answering the one and only question Ghost asked. “I think you’ve spoiled me,” Soap said with an almost sad grin, “One morning without an offering and I’m a mess.”
Ghost did not match the smile as he asked more pointedly, “Why were you worried?”
Soap was lost on how to answer, “Because I… didn’t know if something was wrong? I’m— I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why did you—,” Ghost huffed, giving up on pursuing an answer as soon as he began. “Forget it. You’ll get your offering in the morning.” He stood, taking the apple over to Taxes, who was thrilled at the development and ate the rejected offering happily.
He didn’t know what answers he wanted nor which questions to ask to get them. But he did know very well that when ignorance and vulnerability reared its ugly, stupid, unwelcome head, impudence made for a fine replacement.
“I’m sorry? Have I done something to upset you?”
It was said with an air of sincerity; It was far too kind of a reply for the brashness he had undeservedly received. 
Ghost needed to be suspicious of Soap, he needed to keep his guard up and always be on the watch for whatever tricks he would try to play. He reminded himself of that fact every time he left an offering or entertained a chat with him but it had yet to stick. 
Soap was making it very difficult for him.
“I’m sorry if I said something wrong—”
For the first time in his life he was unable to cling on to the mistrust and suspicion that had kept him alive thus far. Anger took up where they failed.
There was a voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like someone he used to know, telling him that directing his anger towards those who didn’t deserve it wouldn’t help anyone. But that someone was dead and had been for a long time.
“I… I know you don’t trust me, but I—”
Something snapped. He seethed at himself for the truth behind his own words as he admitted with too much anger, “No, my problem is that I do trust you and I don’t fucking know why!”
“...I’m sorry?”
“Just shut up.”
And the worst part yet? He did. The god of death abided by his request.
Soap was surprised at the outburst, shock and… and not fear because he’s a god, the god of death, he has no need for survival instincts and time wasters like fear. Yet he held his hands up in surrender like Ghost could hurt him anyway.
Ghost was significantly more human and all of the emotions he had felt bubbling up ever since he first left that apple at the feet of a forgotten shrine were finally spilling over, making the fire within his brain crackle and pop at the unwanted intrusion.
“Why?” Ghost demanded, marching forward slowly as he grabbed his newly sharpened dagger. “Why, why, why do I want to trust you!?”
The god didn’t say anything, just kept his hands up while making a vague shrugging motion. Soap stood carefully like he was being cornered by a wild animal and took a few small, slow steps back. 
“Why have you decided to fuck up my life!?”
Soap stayed silent, somehow looking even sadder at his harsh statement. Soap shouldn’t be calm, he should be angry. And yet, he did not fight back. The storm carried on. Ghost was advancing faster than Soap was retreating.
“I cannot kill you, I cannot hurt you, so why do you fall back!?” 
Ghost held the length of his dagger up to the god’s throat, threatening to break the skin and reveal whatever was underneath his guise. Soap froze, standing stiff and looking up at Ghost with eyes full of emotions he couldn’t even begin to decipher.
His anger had pushed them both to the edge of the overhang; Soap was fully in the rain yet still dry while Ghost had some cover but was getting soaked. It only made his tempestuous emotions worse, the painfully obvious display of the divine differences between them.
“Why do you act like you’re scared!?”
Even with him raising his voice, Ghost could barely be heard over the rain. Soap looked at him with something that wasn’t patronizing enough to be pity but he didn’t want to risk trying to put another word to whatever it was.
Soap confessed, “I’m scared for you.”
The anger was failing now as well and he could feel that old snake vulnerability slithering up his spine. “Bullshit.”
“Is it?” Soap asked, with concern, tenderness, sympathy— every emotion he needn’t feel for himself written plain across his face.
“Don’t you dare condescend to me. I may just be a stupid, puny mortal in the eyes of ‘Death almighty—’”
“You’re not—”
Ghost pressed the blade closer. On anyone else, any human, blood would have been welling up. 
“—But I know a hungry animal when I see one. If I die, you die too, isn’t that right?” Ghost asked, an air of enlightenment in his voice, like he could pretend hard enough that he found the answer he’d been seeking. He felt no such relief or realization.
He laughed humorlessly, “Gods, you’re like a bloody vampire aren’t you? Poor little thing has to keep a mortal alive to get offerings from!”
He felt like he could barely breathe; He wasn’t sure he could lie to himself that it was just anger making him tremble anymore. Soap remained silent. Ghost needed him to say something, anything, he didn’t care what. He could feel the last strings holding him up snap as they sat in silence.
They had yet to break eye contact, Ghost continuing to stare down at him. Soap carefully reached up, wrapped his hand around Ghost’s, and slowly moved the knife away. He didn’t even take the opportunity to disarm him, just played along like Ghost was capable of defending himself against the god of death.
Soap grabbed his arm with his other hand, gently pushing Ghost out of the storm’s wrath like he was something delicate.
Yeah, no shit dumbass. You pulled a knife on him for being nice. Of course he’s treating you like a ticking time bomb.
“Come on,” Soap muttered with that stupid fucking look of not-pity. “You’re gonna get cold.”
Ghost’s brain misfired.
He’s gonna get cold. Says the god. The god of death. Whom he just antagonized. And threatened to stab. In the neck. With a knife. 
You’re gonna get cold.
What the fuck is happening?
Ghost doesn’t know if he said that out loud or if he’s just that easy to read, but Soap, the god of death, answered the unasked question, “If you want to slit my throat, that’s fine, but do it by the fire where it’s warm.”
Unable to vocalize his thoughts in any articulate way, Ghost asked in a voice that was as accusatory as it was stupefied, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Soap laughed too kindly for the statement that caused the reaction, “A lot, probably.”
He could do nothing but watch, puzzled, as the god sat him on the ground next to the fire, adding on another log before joining him. Ghost hadn’t even processed that he was cold when Soap draped something over his shoulders, a cloak— his cloak, and scooted just a little closer.
“Can’t have ye’ getting sick, right?” Soap asked with a smile that might have been charming if Ghost didn’t feel like his brain was actively imploding.
“You… are not attacking me,” Ghost pointed out. He couldn’t tell if he was thinking too fast or not at all. Either way he was lost.
“No, I am not,” Soap confirmed, “And I do not plan to.”
Ghost was exhausted. He felt tired and sad, he wanted to pass out, he wanted to slam his head against the rocks, he wanted to make sense of reality again. None of which seemed to be within his wheelhouse.
“I’m sorry I cannae give ye’ the fight you want.”
His last string snapped, and he slumped in on himself, his head hanging low. Perhaps the others at camp were right. Maybe he was the bloodthirsty monster they feared.
They had both been accused of the same, but where Soap actively defied humanity’s accusations, Ghost only ever seemed to validate them. Here was someone, not human but a person all the same, who was trying to show him kindness and he attacked them for it. Ghost tried his best not to be their beast, but maybe his best wasn’t enough. Maybe violence was the only thing he was capable of.
The monster who refused their labeling smacked him in the back of the head. Soap said not unkindly yet still firmly, “Whatever it is you’re thinking, quit it.”
Ghost slowly turned with a scowl that lacked the anger he was clawing at, upset at having his brooding interrupted, and demanded, “Why?”
“Because,” Soap huffed, “I can’t even read minds but I can hear you sulking from here.”
‘From here’ was right next to him, but Ghost wasn’t in the mood to argue pedantics. Mostly. Somewhat. Kind of.
“I’m brooding, not sulking,” Ghost corrected. He was always in the mood to be a pain in the ass.
Ghost shivered slightly, his now wet clothes chilling him through the cloak. Soap put his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. It was only then that Ghost realized they’d been sitting that close ever since Soap dragged him over, close enough to be well within arm’s reach. 
While the god had plenty of warmth to share, his body heat didn’t. The air always seemed a little bit warmer when Soap was around, the biting cold fading to a comfortable level, but he still was not a living being. Beneath his skin might have been flesh and perhaps a bone or two somewhere in there, but he had no heartbeat, there was nothing within him to provide physical warmth the same way a human would have.
Ghost wondered if it was part of an ages old reflex, pulling someone closer to keep them warm.
“Yer not a damn bird…” Soap corrected back, absentmindedly running his hand up and down Ghost’s arm, assumedly another reflex from a time long since passed. 
Ghost didn’t mind; A prideful bastard he may be, but he had never experienced a true cold a day in his life. He knew good and well he should be thankful for the warmth, and considering he was almost soaked to the bone while it was cold as balls, Ghost would let his pride take the hit so long as it kept him hypothermia free.
“You do have a lot wrong with you, don’t you?” Ghost asked as if it wasn’t obvious from the start.
“I already told you tha’ much.” Soap said with that smile that you can only get after an emotional breakthrough, the kind that was genuine yet sad yet hopeful yet tired, all in one small smile.
Thunder roared loud enough that Ghost could feel the reverberations through the ground he was sitting on. Looking outside, the woodland was obscured by a haze of white, rain falling with such speed and vigor that it hid everything beyond their shelter. He watched the way the sky darkened even though it couldn’t have been noon; it would appear that the storm finally arrived.
Wind tried to blow the rain closer and closer but errant raindrops that should have been pelting him and threatening his fire never seemed to land and he knew he had the god to thank for that. 
Ghost had to take a moment to appreciate that the god of death, a being capable of unimaginable power that presided over the most prevalent part of life, had been demoted to an umbrella and space heater.
“I think you could kill me if you wanted.”
Soap’s sudden statement pulled him back, turning from the deluge outside to look at the god in confusion, slowly processing his words. Ghost scoffed, genuine in his demand but without the malice that would have been there a few minutes prior, “Don’t pity me.”
“I’m not!” Soap defended as if he were stating the obvious, “We both know damn well that if I fucked up and pissed you off, you wouldn’t stop until I was dead.” 
A grim statement made in a jovial tone with the manner of someone convinced they were infallibly correct. He acted as if he were offended by the notion that Ghost couldn’t kill him.
“A mortal going against a god is not a battle, it’s a slaughter,” he corrected. It was something he’d been told over and over when he was younger, back when he was still naive enough to have faith (albeit with rather different wording).
Almost every bedtime story he’d grown up with had the same lesson: Do not go against the gods. Story after story and tale after tale about supposedly greedy men that tried to take on the pantheon only to be sentenced to eternal suffering as punishment. Back then, it was worded in a little cutesy, kid friendly way but the lesson stuck. Ghost wasn’t that stupid… mostly… Regardless, he knew his limits, and killing an immortal being was certainly not within them.
“Yes, but for you, it wouldn’t be the mortal getting slaughtered,” Soap argued the point like they were debating over which color was the best, not Ghost’s ability to kill death.
Ghost scoffed, “Sure.” He had no idea what the god was getting at but he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.
“You know it's true, you just don’t want to accept the compliment!” Soap argued, annoyed at the dismissal.
“Is someone telling you that you could kill them a compliment?” Ghost asked, more curious for Soap’s answer than anything else.
“How would it not?”
Yeah, Ghost doesn’t know what else he expected from the god of death, to be honest. He settled back, pulling his cloak closer to himself, slowly drying off, and warm in spite of the freezing thunderstorm mere feet away. 
He still had hundreds of questions and half formed worries plaguing him, but well, as he said, he felt exhausted. Not physically, sleep was a long way off but he still felt like he could collapse.
Ghost tried to think but as soon as he grabbed at any thoughts, they slipped away into the mist. It was only after several minutes of silently watching the leaves shake in the storm that one question solidified into something more tangible. He didn’t know how to phrase it, but eventually gave up on finding the right words and hoped to stumble into them along the way.
“Shouldn’t I be…” Ghost regretted his plan immediately but it was too late to go back. “…Spreading the word? Singing your praises? Getting people to ‘worship’ you?” He felt weird even as he said it but he tried to keep the disdain out of his voice.
“No.” Soap’s reply was sudden and resolute, like he wanted to shut down the notion immediately. “No, please don’t.”
“No?”
“No,” he confirmed. “I… know that if I want to— to stay around then yes, but… No. Not yet. I don’t want to repeat what happened before.” 
The god had a sullen, far away look in his eyes, one Ghost had seen on several soldiers and fighters before and likely one that he himself has worn as well. It was the most Soap had ever talked about his time from before.
Ghost didn’t like the way Soap had said it and he liked the spike of sympathy even less, but he had a feeling he would have to get used to emotions he didn’t like so long as he continued following the god.
The words hang over them like a lead weight. Usually, Ghost didn’t mind letting awkwardness linger, enjoying the squirming of others but this felt different. It wasn’t someone trying to push Ghost beyond his limits, but instead more like the other way around, Ghost uncaringly pushing against a sore subject for the god.
For the god. You shouldn’t feel bad for him, he’s— 
Oh, shut up.
He’s well past the point of no return. Feeling bad for Soap was the least of his worries now, whether he liked it or not. Besides, if not pity, why else would he have continued offering Soap whatever he could get his hands on? 
It’s not like he’s on the precipice of doing something stupid, he already did the ‘something stupid.’ Ghost saw the edge of the cliff and the warning signs around it and still hiked on.
Ignoring everything in him yelling at him not to, he leaned into the god’s side. The words felt alien even to himself as he muttered, “Maybe someday.”
Soap smiled, and the edge of the cliff came closer as Soap muttered back, “Maybe.”
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lovebaela · 11 months ago
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THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH
Chapter 1: A New Life
masterlist l next
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(a/n) hello! I decided to restart my “Ice and Fire” fanfaction because I have so much more ideas for a better story :) even though it’s discontinued, if you would like to check it out here’s the masterlist! I hope you guys will enjoy this one 🤍 I’m working on the masterlist for this series right now!
UPDATED VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER IS ON WATTPAD
https://www.wattpad.com/1439910833-dragon-of-the-north-b-stark-𝐢-a-new-life
Divider credit: @dingusfreakhxrrington @valeskafics
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°❆⋆Bran Stark x Targaryen OC .ೃ࿔*:・ CW: fem!oc, betrothal (forced marriage), topics of abuse and racism, angst, a lot of fluff, smut (I’ll try lol), and murder.꙳·❅°*˖ Rating: Mature audiences - The mature moments will happen later on. In the beginning, it will mostly just be cute fluff.⋆⁺₊❅.
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Why must the gods be so cruel to me? What could I have possibly done to deserve this life? To be sold off like a slave by my own flesh and blood…I’ll never forgive Viserys. Without Dany, I am alone. Without love. I want to go home. But…where do I belong? The summer isles? No, that can’t be my true home, I never had the chance to live there. Do I belong anywhere?
Daughter of the mad king’s younger brother. Rhaella never knew her mother. She died after giving birth in the Summer Isles, killed by assassins under the command of the new king, Robert Baratheon. When he found out Rhaella’s mother was pregnant, he wanted both of them dead. Rhaella was smuggled out of the isles and sent to her cousins, the last Targaryens.
“I know you’re upset,” Lord Eddard Stark said, placing his hand on top of hers.“But please, believe me when I say this. I will never let anyone harm you. You are under my protection now.”
Rhaella gave him a weak smile back. Rhaella, the same name as the Mad King’s sister and wife. Daenerys gave her the name. Viserys despised the idea of his mother’s name given to the likes of a foreign girl. Even though she was still a Targaryen, he only considered her half and not pure. She took after her mother, with more summer isle features. Her skin wasn’t pale, instead, a light amber and tan that would get even darker in the sun. She had long silver curly hair, unlike her cousins who had straight silver blonde hair. The thing Rhaella hated the most was her eyes. Instead of being a pretty violet color, she had dark purple eyes that almost looked black.
Rhaella looked away from the carriage window to make eye contact with Lord Stark, “My Lord?” She asked, “Why did you accept my cousin’s offer to take me?”
“Well, you see,” he explained, “The rebellion caused great loss for everyone. So many people, loved ones, dead. Especially your family, unfortunately. I’ll never forgive him for his order of murder. When the king found out 3 Targaryens were still out in the world, he wanted you all dead. I wanted to prove to him that even though Areys was mad, that doesn’t mean you all don’t deserve to live. By taking you in and marrying one of my sons, we can show him that you are not our enemies. It took him a while to be fully convinced, but he agreed to let you live.”
”But, my eldest cousin,” Rhaella said. “He…he wants to take the seven kingdoms. I’m not sure how, but that is his plan.”
”I highly doubt he is a true threat,” Lord Stark said.
”you’re right,” she admitted. “He can be a big coward at times.”
That comment made him chuckle.
He has a nice smile, very warm and welcoming. Even though he did come off as cold before.
“Will I have to marry now?” Rhaella asked.
“Oh gods no!” He chuckled, “you are far too young, my son as well.”
“Will he like me?”
“I believe so, you have nothing to worry about. Bran is a good kid. He will treat you right.”
Once they made it through the gates, the carriage stopped. Lord Stark exited first so he could get the door for Rhaella. He gently held her hand as she took her steps down. Once Rhaella looked up from the steps, she saw the Stark family before her. Not letting go of her hand, Lord Stark approached his family to introduce their special guest.
“This is Rhaella Targaryen. As you all know, she will be with us now. Treat her as you would treat each other. If anyone disrespects her, let me know.”
They all nodded. A very handsome older boy approached her, “Hello, my lady, I am Robb,” he told her, “I hope you enjoy Winterfell and welcome!” Before walking away, he kissed her hand. That made Rhaella blush, “T-Thank you.” He had blue eyes and dark auburn hair. It was so dark you could barely tell if it was red. He had to have been the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen.
An older girl walked up to her gracefully, “Hello,” she smiled, “my name is Sansa. I hope we can grow to be like sisters! Maybe even brush each other’s hair, make dresses together, and so much more!” Rhaella gave a slight smile back, “I would love that!” Then a girl, who looked not too older than her, approached saying, “My name is Arya! Don’t worry, we don’t have to do girly stuff together. There are other ways to have fun!”
Then, she met Rickon, the youngest in the family, and their mother Lady Stark. “Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed, “aren't you just a lovely thing? Such a beauty.” Rhaella blushed at the compliment, thanking her.
She must be lying to me. I mean, just look at me! The journey to Westeros was so long that hair became wild and poofy.
”You must be frightened,” Lady Stark said. “Trust me, I never favored the cold myself. I still don’t, but you grow to appreciate it.”
Rhaella couldn’t keep her eyes off Lady Catelyn Stark’s features. Like Robb and Sansa, she had long auburn hair and pretty blue eyes. Her gown was also blue, making her eyes stand out even more.
“Where is Bran?” Lord Stark asked his wife.
“I told that boy to stop climbing,” she explained. “Brandon!”
“Sorry mother!” A voice yelled from above, “I’m coming down!”
When Rhaella looked up, she examined him. He looked to be the same age as her. He had dark brown hair and eyes with freckles on his face. He approached her and bowed, “Welcome to Winterfell, I hope you will take a liking to it.” “Thank you,” she replied.
The atmosphere quickly grew awkward. The two children didn’t know what to say to each other.
Lady Stark took Rhaella’s hand, “You must be exhausted, here, come with me.” She guided Rhaella to her bed chamber and had the handmaidens start a bath. After the bath, she laid on her bed for a quick nap.
After waking up, the handmaidens helped her get into a gown for dinner. The dress was purple with roses embroidered across the neckline. Then, they helped her with her hair. They clearly did not know what they were doing. They aren’t used to doing curly hair like Rhaella’s, but they managed to make something of it. They brushed out her curls, putting them in a half-up-half-down style. The ponytail was braided and put into a bun. After the handmaidens left the room, she looked at herself in the mirror.
I don’t even look like myself anymore.
Tears began to fill her eyes, I just want to go home.
She bolted out of the room, not knowing where she was going. She ran outside the big castle but didn’t dare to leave outside the castle walls. She eventually found an area that stood out to her. The whole vibe was strange as if something or someone was watching her. It was nothing but an old forest with no snow. In the middle of it, was a pool and a tree. A tree she’d never seen before. The huge tree was white with red leaves and a face carved into it. She stared deeply into the tree’s eyes for a while.
Is it staring back at me?
She snapped out of it, shaking her head, and climbed up the tree to sit on a huge branch.
Without Daenerys, I am lost. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying in the tree for, but she didn’t care. Winterfell wasn’t her home.
“Rhaella?” She heard a voice ask.
When she looked up, she saw Bran with a concerned look on his face, “w-why are you crying?”
She wiped her tears. “Sorry, I just miss my sister…how did you know I’d be here?”
“I like to go to the godswood, and climb up this tree,” he said. “Whenever I like to be alone and think. I’m sorry you had to leave your sister.”
“Well, she isn’t my sister, not really,” she admitted, wiping her face. “We are actually cousins. We just call each other sisters.”
He sat next to her, “my family was worried about you. They thought you might have ran away.” He nervously chuckled. “I…I know that we are to be married one day. The idea of marriage scares me.”
She doesn’t respond, only looking down at her hands as she fidgets with them. “I have something for you,” Bran showed her a beautiful blue flower. “That was the reason I was climbing.” He told her. “I wanted to give you something as a gift. I was going to give it to you at the dinner table but here. If I hurt your feelings not being there to greet you, I’m so sorry.” Rhaella took the flower and sniffed it.
“It’s called the winter rose,” he continued. “A rare flower that can grow around the castle.”
“It’s so beautiful,” she smiled. “Thank you.”
”You know, just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean we have to be in love right now or anything,” he said. “Let’s just be friends!”
”Yeah I’d like that!” She said.
”And just so you know,” he whispered. “I liked your hair better before. Your curly hair is much better.”
She laughed, “You and me both.”
”You’re laughing!”
”So?”
”This is your first time laughing here,” he said. “You have a nice smile.”
”Thanks, Bran,” she said. “You know, my eldest cousin ,Viserys, told me and Dany that you guys were evil monsters. But, you guys aren’t monstrous at all!”
Before Bran could respond, they both hear a voice from down below calling for Bran. An older boy who looked the same age as Robb. He was very handsome with black curls and dark eyes. “I found her Jon!” Bran shouted.
”Well, what are you sitting around for? They are all waiting for you two!” The two of them climbed down from the tree and walked with Jon.
“Forgive me, my name is Jon Snow,” he told Rhaella. “Welcome to Winterfell.”
”I never heard of the last name ‘snow’ before,” she confessed.
Bran began to explain, ”That last name actually means he’s a…well—”
”Bastard.” Jon said. His voice was cold and somber.
”I don’t know what that means,” Rhaella said. “But Viserys called me that sometimes, I assumed as an insult.”
”It means that my father, Lord Stark, had me with another woman. I wanted to meet you when you arrived, but Lady Stark thought it would be disrespectful.”
Rhaella couldn’t help but feel awful for him. There was something about Jon Snow that made him stand out. As if they had a connection. She wondered if Jon felt it too.
“You said that Viserys called us evil,” Bran said. “Then why did he want to send you away to us?”
“He hates me,” she answered. “He saw you guys as an opportunity to get rid of me…”
Once they all made it to the dining hall, all eyes were on Rhaella and Bran. “Well, aren’t you just beautiful?” Catelyn smiled. “Please, have a seat.” Bran escorted her to her chair and went back to his. Before Jon could leave the Hall, Rhaella asked, “Can Jon eat with us please?”
”Ah, I see you met him while you were gone,” Lord Stark said, amused. “Would him eating with us please you?”
Rhaella looked over at Jon, whose eyes lightened up. She looked back at Lord Stark and gave a nod. He looked over at Lady Stark, “What do you say?”
She looked into Rhaella’s sparkling eyes and sighed, “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”
Rhaella gave a big smile. Jon pulled a chair next to her whispering, “Thank you Rhaella.”
“I hope you like the dress,” Sansa said. “I made it myself! I wanted to test my embroidery skills and decided to make you one!”
“It’s beautiful,” Rhaella told her. “You should teach me!” Sansa nodded gleefully.
“You know, we all thought you ran off and escaped!” Arya laughed.
“I…I didn’t mean any trouble or offense, I apologize.” Rhaella announced, standing up from her chair and bowing her head. “It was rude of me.”
“No,” Lord Stark said. “You have every right to feel the way you do. Your life changed right before your eyes. But please, believe me when I say this, we are here for you.”
“Aye.” Robb agreed. “If you are having trouble with anyone or anything let us know.” She thanked the both of them for their kindness.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what was it like outside of Westeros?” Catelyn asked.
Rhaella told them everything. Even about the abuse Viserys had done to her. He always yelled at her for the littlest things. The worst thing he ever did was sneak into her bedchamber with a knife. He threatened to cut out her insides if she didn’t cooperate with his plan to send her to the North.
They all had concerned looks on their faces. The abuse never got to her until explaining it out loud. She really did have it rough.
“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Arya said. “You are with us now!”
“Safe and sound,” Sansa added.
Rhaella didn’t realize she was smiling.
”So, Rhaella…you said you were from the Summer Isles right?” Theon asked.
“Yes, why you ask?”
He smirked at Robb before asking, “I heard the women there are quite breathtakingly beautiful?” She could have sworn she heard him whisper “and have nice bodies.”
”Well, I’ve never actually stayed there, I had to flee because of the King,” she explained. “But from the books I’ve read and from what I heard from some servants in Pentos, yes, the women there are quite beautiful.”
”I also heard that they have a passion for love making,” he said. “Maybe I gotta visit there sometime-.”
”Theon!” Lady Stark snapped. “Don’t be disrespectful-.”
”Oh that’s okay!” Rhaella reassured her. “You’re right, Theon! They do have a passion for it. If I were to stay in the Isles, I would have been a prostitute myself!”
Sansa and Lady Stark almost choked on their food, as Robb, Theon, and Jon bursted out laughing at the table. She didn’t understand what was so funny, but she laughed along with them.
”What’s a prostitute?” Rickon asked, innocently. That made the boys start crying from laughter. Theon even fell out of his chair.
”Y-You’ll know when you’re older!” Lady Stark said.
”You’ll fit in with us just fine, child,” Lord Stark said. “Welcome to the family!”
°❀⋆Daenerys.ೃ࿔*:・
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Daenerys never felt more lonely. She missed Rhaella, her real family. She’d never forgive her brother for what he did.
“Daenerys!” Viserys shouted.
He entered her bed chamber, “do not tell me you’re still upset about that savage.”
She felt rage enter her body as he said those words. “She is not a savage, she’s my sister,” she replied softly. “And I don’t understand why you sent her to our enemies.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “We both know that’s not true. She’s our cousin. Daughter of our uncle and whatever foreign whore he married. She’s not a pure Targaryen like us, Dany. And she never will be. I gave her away because we need allies, even if they are enemies. The Starks are a strong house, and I knew that Lord Stark would gladly take her in. The fool won’t even know of my plans to destroy him and his dear friend Robert.”
Daenerys always considered Rhaella her sister, even if it wasn’t true. They spent all of their time together, never leaving one’s side. It felt like it was yesterday, the day Rhaella arrived in Braavos as a baby. Viserys wanted nothing to do with her while Daenerys cherished her. She had no idea why Viserys was so upset about naming their cousin after their mother. It was only a name after all. She always thought it was much deeper than Rhaella being a “savage.” She never dared to ask him though.
“I have good news.” He announced. She examined his face, his grin looked devious. Truly it wasn’t good news. “I found you a husband,” he said. “His name is Khal Drogo, Magister Illyrio said. A Dothraki savage. When you two wed, I’ll have his army. We can finally go home, sweet sister.”
Home.
All she ever wanted was a home. A home with Rhaella, where they could finally be happy together. With her gone, Daenerys wasn’t sure if it would be home without her.
“And what about her?” She asked him.
“The savage?” He scoffed. “Those Starks have her now. I don’t care what they do to her. As long as we have our alliance with the North.”
Daenerys wanted to cry, but she stayed strong. I will meet her again, one day.
°❆⋆Bran ೃ࿔*:・
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It had only been a couple of months, but for Bran, it felt like he had known Rhaella his whole life. Rhaella also grew close to his sisters but mostly Arya. The three of them were inseparable. Rhaella even taught them some of the Valyrian language. Some nights, the three of them would stay up and read history books about Targaryen history until they got caught by the Septa. For fun, they liked to go sledding and have snowball fights. The older Stark boys and Rickon joined them sometimes, but never Sansa. Ever since Rhaella arrived, Sansa and Arya fought less. It’s like wherever she went, she spread joy. That’s one of the traits Bran liked about her.
Now, everyone is preparing for the arrival of the King.
He overheard his father saying that the King was almost there. Bran felt sorry for Rhaella because she was so stressed out. “What will he do to me?” She asked. He always reassured her, “You are under our protection now, the King approved of you. Don’t worry about a thing.”
At that moment, it was time for Bran to practice his archery. He hasn’t been getting any better. He wanted to show his family he could hit the bull’s eye. First, only Robb was watching him. Then, came Jon and Rickon. Before he knew it, his parents came to watch as well.
“Keep practicing, Bran,” Lord Stark insisted. “Go on.”
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Jon leaned in towards Bran, placing his hand on his shoulder, “Alright, father is watching.”
Jon looks over and sees Rhaella and Arya watching as well, “and her…” he whispered.
Bran took a deep gulp. He didn’t like to get teased about Rhaella. They only do it because we are to be married. We are just friends, good friends.
Bran nodded and started to aim his bow and arrow at his target.
“Relax your bow arm…” Robb commented.
Just before Bran could release the arrow, someone else’s hits the target and another shoots right through it.
All of the boys turned their heads to see Rhaella and Arya giggling. “Hey!” Bran yelled. The girls both curtseyed but quickly took off once they saw Bran chasing them. The kids kept on playing until their father took all of the boys to see an execution. Bran was finally old enough to see one.
“Are you scared?” Rhaella asked him as he was mounting his pony.
“I’m not sure.” He answered honestly.
But I can’t be afraid. My father told me I won’t be a boy forever. I’ll be a man-grown soon. I mustn’t be afraid. I need to be brave. Like Robb and Jon. Wolves are never afraid.
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