#it's either months-long depressive slumps | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fortheloveofwonderland · 9 months ago

Text

Midnight | Chapter 19 | SR

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - a slight jump forward in time here. For the sake of this, Spencer’s mom lives back in Vegas.

Chapter Summary - after finding a new place to settle down, things finally seem like they might be looking up for you and Spencer. Meanwhile Luke refuses to rest while he continues searching for you.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - cleaning up a crime scene, burying bodies, fingering, handjob, swearing, vomit, brief mention of depression, penetrative, unprotected sex, lying.

WC - 5.7k

Chapter 19 - Stitch Me Up

Two Months Later

The desert city of Twentynine Palms, California was located in the Mojave Desert and sat on the northern side of the Joshua Tree National Park and promoted the motto “a beautiful desert oasis”.

It wasn’t small but it was huge either, with a population of around twenty five thousand, making it a great place for two people to hide in plain sight. And given its desert location, the temperature this time of year was over one hundred and five, a stark contrast from tiny little Colorado mountain towns.

Samuel and Violet Truman of Arizona had moved out west and rented themselves a little fully furnished three bed, single storey home on Chia Avenue in a quiet suburb of Twentynine Palms. They arrived two weeks ago after spending some six weeks travelling the states with their travel companions Jack and Lily Waters.

From the outside their home left a lot to be desired, with its rickety metal fence and lone palm tree in the sandy front yard. But the inside was so modern and sheek that the couple had signed a lease on the spot.

From the outside looking in, you and Spencer were the idyllic all American couple. And admittedly, from the inside you were also pretty damn happy.

Since fleeing Crested Butte in the middle of the night two months ago, things had changed dramatically. That night you’d waited until Luke had stopped patrolling your cabin before getting Mary’s body into the trunk of the Nissan. You’d scrubbed every single inch of the house until it was cleaner than when you’d arrived, tweezed the bullet out of the wall and filled in the hole left behind, before gathering all of your belongings and getting the hell out of dodge.

On the way out of town you had begged Spencer to make one last stop. He wanted to refuse, you could tell, but he was trying so hard to make you happy, to make up for the way he’d been treating you that he agreed and pulled the Nissan to a stop on the street outside of McGills.

It had been late and all the lights were off so you’d ducked down the side alley towards the door that led up to his apartment. You’d had no idea if he’d be there but you’d prayed with every fibre of your being that he would. And by some stroke of luck, he answered the door after you’d knocked twice.

“Rose,” he folded his arms across his chest and leant against the door jamb. “Or should I say, Y/N.”

“I heard Luke spoke to you.” You gnawed on your lip as Jesse regarded you like the stranger you were.

“He did. I have to say, I did not expect you to be FBI.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “It’s a long story. I just wanted to come by and apologise for everything. I probably really shouldn’t have let myself follow you out of the Nickel that night.”

“I’m glad you did.” He nodded, dropping his arms to his sides. “Even though it didn’t work out between us, it at the very least got me out of my slump. Maybe now I can actually put myself out there again, you know? Now I’ve gotten over that first hurdle.”

“You’re going to make some woman very happy someday.” You smiled, subconsciously taking a step closer.

“It’s a shame it couldn’t have been you.” He shrugged wistfully.

You swallowed thickly, glancing down the alley and noting that you couldn’t see the Nissan from this position, or more importantly, its occupant couldn’t see you. You stepped even closer to Jesse and cupped his cheek.

“In another life maybe.” You whispered. “I’m leaving town.”

“I figured as much.” He nodded as your hand wandered down from his face to bicep. “You could stay, you know? With me. You don’t have to go just because he wants you to.”

“You have no idea how tempting that is. But I can’t.”

“I know.” He sighed, suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “I’m going to miss you.”

Suddenly he’d slammed his lips against yours in a kiss so passionate your legs had buckled. If Spencer knew how you’d said goodbye to Jesse, he most likely would have gone back and killed him. If he’d known you’d let Jesse finger you in his doorway while you jerked him off in return, Spencer would have certainly murdered him and probably enjoyed it.

But clearly you had a better poker face than you realised as Spencer simply drove off as soon as you were back in the car. And on the drive the only thing you’d thought of were Jess’s last words to you.

“I wish I’d gotten a chance to love you, Y/N.”

But at some point you had to let that go.

Mary’s final resting place had been a hole in the ground in the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest in Montana, almost eight hundred miles north of her hometown of Crested Butte. The Nissan met the same fate as Spencer’s Volvo a further five hundred and fifty miles east just outside of Medora, North Dakota.

Spencer purchased three pairs of bus tickets: one down to Texas, one out to Minnesota and one to Iowa, the latter being the ones you actually used. It took the better part of an entire day on a sweaty, smelly bus before you arrived in Cedar Rapids.

You checked into a cheap and dirty motel under the names of Jack and Lily Waters and spent almost the entire night having sex. Thoroughly exhausted in the morning, Spencer found a used car lot and using his Arizona licence in the name Samuel Truman, paid cash for a black Chevy Impala.

For the six weeks that followed you travelled up and down the country in much of a zigzag, alternating between your two pseudonyms, back and forth so the BAU would never find you. You spent six weeks in multiple different cheap motels, fucking like rabbits every step of the way.

You’d never felt so intrinsically linked to someone the way you did to Spencer in those six weeks. And it seemed he’d finally found his bliss as he didn’t kill once.

Eventually when enough time passed you’d choose to settle down in California. But unfortunately the mundane realities of life would ultimately be your downfall.

You stood up from the bathroom floor with a groan, wiping the back of your hand over your mouth and padding over to the sink. You stuck your mouth directly under the faucet and drank from it to wash away the taste of bile on your tongue.

You’d been throwing up on and off for some weeks now but you simply put it down to the residual stress of being on the run. You exhaled heavily before shuffling back out into the bedroom where Spencer still lay naked on top of the sheets.

“I’m mildly offended.” He offered you a wistful smile.

“I’m sorry.” You grumbled, flopping back to the bed next to him.

“It’s ok. Just never had anyone need to throw up whilst sucking my dick before.” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It’ll teach me not to eat hotdogs from a gas-and-go.” You sighed. “I can try again if you’re still in the mood?”

“After I just listened to you puke your guts up? I’m suddenly not very horny.” He pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest. “But seriously, are you ok? You’ve been getting sick a lot lately.”

“Yeah I guess it’s stress or something. I’ll be fine.” You nuzzled against him, placing your hand flush against his chest over his heart.

You smiled as the ring caught the light and found yourself moving impossibly closer to Spencer. His grandmother's old ring had been upgraded, as had the one he wore, for newer silver matching bands inscribed on the inside with partners in crime.

One of your stops on your travels before you’d made your way to Twentynine Palms had been in Atlantic City at a seedy motel just off the main strip. After a few drinks one night as you walked by a little drive-in chapel, Spencer had a proposition for.

“What would you say I said we should get married?” He pulled you to a stop on the sidewalk.

“Married?” You glared at him.

“Right now. Partners in crime forever.” He grinned at you.

“You’re joking, right?” Your brows furrowed.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Before we get swallowed up entirely in the lives of Samuel and Violet, I think Spencer and Y/N need to do this one last thing.”

And really there had only been one answer to that. You and Spencer had been bound for life the moment you’d left DC with him, you were as good as married, so why not make it official?

If your old team were to ever find one last trace of Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N it would be the signing of marriage licences in a little Atlantic City chapel.

Spencer purchased you the new rings as a surprise and that along with your rose gold heart necklace, were your most treasured possessions.

“You don’t need to be stressed, sweetheart. It’s over, we’re safe now. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.” He cooed, kissing your head.

It really was amazing the difference a few months could make. Of course things weren’t ideal, you’d always be on the run, never able to return home but things with Spencer were as close to perfect as they could possibly be.

Since fleeing Butte he’d been wonderful, the Spencer you’d known was still in there somewhere. You may be on the run but as long as this was the Spencer you woke up to every morning, you didn’t mind at all.

But Spencer was wrong, things were far from over. At least you’d always have these moments to look back when everything came crumbling down. But for now, despite the stress within you, you knew Spencer was all you needed to feel whole. You and Spencer were two broken halves but maybe together you could patch each other up and finally feel complete.

***

Two days after Luke Alvez arrived back from Crested Butte he received a phone call from the diner owner's son.

Jesse McGill had informed him of the mysterious disappearance of the girl Mary, whom Luke had met at the diner, which was followed in quick succession by you and Spencer’s sudden departure from the town.

It really didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But unfortunately for Luke it did take a genius to pull it off and Spencer was sure to leave behind no trail, no scrap of evidence. And two months later and Mary still hadn’t been found and the BAU had no leads on you and Spencer’s whereabouts. You’d well and truly outsmarted them.

In his spare time, which was very few and far between these days, he poured over the Duncan Green case file as well as images of the sparkling clean cabin you’d left behind in Butte in the hopes that maybe he’d missed something. He stayed late in the office every single night and looked for any reports of sightings of you and Spencer as Emily had officially registered you as missing persons. He scrolled through police databases for any other occurrences that might point to where the hell you were.

He’d discovered two bodies buried in woodlands across the country which were similar in MO to Green but with no pertinent links between them, the BAU couldn’t investigate.

Lyle Smith was found in a shallow grave with his throat cut in the Hoosier National Forest just north of Jasper, Indiana. The body of Brett Carlisle from Wichita, Kansas was found in the Rita Blanca National Grasslands in Texas. Both bodies had been subject to the elements but deemed to have been dead since before that little Nissan was picked up on Elk Avenue for the first time. So maybe Spencer had been on some kind spree since he’d left DC.

And that brought him onto the discovery of the burnt out Nissan, near identical to how they’d found Spencer’s Volvo. They’d spent three days searching the area surrounding where the vehicle was found for Mary’s body only to come up short. Of course, Spencer wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t dispose of a body anywhere near the car.

The only lead Luke had really had in the last two months was the filing of a marriage licence in the state of New Jersey. It was like a big middle finger in his face, clearly you’d both wanted him to find it. He’d driven to Atlantic City on one of his rare days off and canvassed the area near the wedding chapels, showing your photographs to anyone who would look. But he knew you’d be long gone.

If he could just find a way to connect any of these crimes to Spencer, or to find Mary’s body then maybe he could convince you to come home. He was sure you had nothing to do with any of this and if had solid proof that Spencer had murdered one of these people maybe it could be his way to form a wedge between the two of you. No matter what happened, Luke would never stop trying to protect you.

But god if it wasn’t taking its toll on him.

Luke Alvez was, in no uncertain terms, coming apart at the seams. The stitching holding him together had been removed thread by thread and at this point there was barely anything holding him together. Emily had expressed her concerns for his mental health, suggesting he seek medical help for what she had dubbed a depressive spiral.

His response had been simply, “you’d be depressed too if your best friend had married a murderer” which had pretty much shut down the conversation.

He knew he was devolving, he’d seen it hundred of times before. His apartment was a mess of case files, innocuous accounts of possible sightings and potential victims of Spencer. He barely slept, running mostly on coffee and energy bars. He was almost certain he was getting an ulcer.

But he wouldn’t let this go. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t safe and he couldn’t rest until he knew you were. Maybe this obsession would eventually kill him, but it would be worth it to be able to free you from the clutches of Spencer Reid.

***

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You scurried back to the car with your best apologetic smile as you slid into the passenger’s seat and Spencer pulled a face.

“Did you puke again?” He frowned at you.

“No.” You shook your head.

“You were peeing again? You went when we got here.” He started the engine.

You weren’t exactly sure where you were headed, Spencer had simply told you that you were going out for the day and with nothing better to do you’d followed along. You were somewhere along the I-15 heading north about two hours away from Twentynine Palms, at a gas station. You’d only stopped long enough for Spencer to fill up the Chevy and have a coffee and you’d used the bathroom twice, which was very unlike you.

“I know, I think I drank too much coffee this morning.” You mused, putting on your seatbelt.

“You always drink too much coffee, but that’s an entirely different conversation.” He chuckled, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the space.

As he merged back onto the interstate you twirled your wedding band around your finger, watching the way his caught the sunlight through the windscreen and you smiled to yourself.

“Where are we going, Spence? Not that I don’t like a spontaneous road trip but I thought we’d settled now? Driving long distances usually only equals bad things where we’re concerned.” You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth.

Spencer removed one hand from the wheel and brought it to rest on your knee while he smiled at you softly.

“We’re going to see my mom.” He spoke happily.

“Oh.” You nodded with a soft laugh. “Ok, good. You had me worried for a second.”

“I told you sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about anything. Not anymore.” He gave your leg a squeeze, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

His bloodlust had been sated for the past two months but now it had come back with avengence. He needed to kill and he had a particular target in mind who he was sure would satisfy his urges more so than any that had come before.

But it was better to keep you in the dark. You were so happy lately and Spencer loved it when you were happy. He’d use visiting his mom as a distraction and he’d sneak off and extract his plan solo. You’d never need to know and your blissful little bubble didn’t need to be popped.

It was a win-win.

He ran over his plan in his head as he drove, making sure he had all the little details secure in his mind. There was no margin for error here, this had to be the perfect kill.

The two of you mostly stayed silent until he’d made it about another half hour up the interstate and you huffed out a loud breath.

“Goddamnit,” you grumbled. “I need to pee again.”

***

Visiting Spencer’s mom had been pretty safe for the two of you given that if anyone ever asked her if you’d been here, she most likely wouldn’t remember. You spent a few hours with her upon your arrival in Vegas before Spencer took you for a three course meal at the very expensive Capital Grille on Las Vegas strip.

After he walked you down to Caesars Palace in which you expected to be having drinks and were extremely surprised when Spencer strolled up to the reception desk stating he had a room reserved under his other alias Jack Waters.

A bellboy led you up to one of the top floors and showed you to the Palace Premium Suite. You stood in the middle of the grand living room while Spencer tipped the young man and once the door was closed and the two of you were alone, he sidled up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You like it?” He spoke as he kissed the side of your face.

“Wh-what is happening?” You laughed, still in awe. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Consider it a belated, one night honeymoon.” His lips trailed down your neck. “And I guess just a small token of my gratitude for everything you’ve done for me. I know I have a hard time saying how I feel but I love you so fucking much and I am the luckiest man in the world to call you my wife.”

“Spencer,” you sighed happily in your arms. “I love you too. And I’m the lucky one.”

“Ok, now we’ve got that out of the way, tell me Mrs Reid, where would you like me to fuck you first?”

You moaned at his words, turning yourself around in his arms and attaching your lips together.

“What are my options?” You spoke against his lips, feeling his dick growing hard as he pressed into you.

“Well there are multiple couches, a four poster king sized bed, a pretty decadent bathtub, or there’s my personal favourite option…” his hands wandered under the hem of your shirt and over your back.

“Which is?” You took hold of his lapels, tearing your lips away from his so you could look at him.

His pupils were already blown out with his lust, his lip quirked up into a sinful smirk.

“We’re way up high, with some of the best views of Vegas.” He tugged your shirt up, quickly getting it over your head and tossing it aside. He took hold of your biceps and turned you back around to face the huge floor to ceiling windows overlooking the strip, his lips moving back to your ear. “My choice would be to fuck you up against the window. But that’s just me.”

He was already leading you towards the windows, lips sucking the flesh of your neck, his free reaching between your bodies and unhooking your bra. He quickly got it off your arms and dropped it on the floor, and you made no protest when he pushed your front up against the window. You hissed slightly at the cool glass as it touched your nipples and Spencer smiled to himself.

It was all a part of his plan. He would render you dumb with sex then run you an indulgent bubble bath with a large glass of wine to soothe your post-coital muscles. Then he’d tell you he’d left something at his mother's facility which was purposefully on the other side of town to buy him some time.

He’d tell you he hopefully wouldn’t be gone long, but traffic on the strip at night could be a nightmare and he’d be back as soon as possible. He’d inform you of the bar and the spa downstairs if you wanted to use either while he was gone.

And while you were preoccupied having a drink or getting a massage or whatever, he would seek out his target, slice his throat and be back before you knew it, with any luck rejuvenated enough for round two.

He continued kissing your neck while he started unbuttoning your pants and you helped him wiggle them down your legs and kick them off. You could see Spencer in the reflection in the window start to work on the buttons of his shirt. You caught his eye and he smiled at you.

He shucked his shirt off and pressed his bare chest against your back, caging you against the window with his hips, his hard cock pressing into your back. His lips moved back to your neck and worked on sucking deep bruises into your flesh whilst one hand wandered over your stomach and quickly dipped inside your panties.

You closed your eyes as two fingers were soon pressing inside of you, his thumb massaging your clit. You rolled your ass backwards, grinding against his erection but you wobbled a little on your legs at the feeling of his fingers inside you.

With your eyes closed your mind wandered of its own accord. There were times when you and Spencer were together that you found yourself thinking of Jesse, most specifically the last time you’d seen him when he’d fingered you in his doorway.

It was entirely involuntary, you certainly didn’t mean to think about him and his strong tattooed arms and the large vein in his forearm that pulsed when his fingers were inside of you. You didn’t mean to imagine his wiry beard scratching your face as he kissed you. And you most definitely didn’t mean to picture him fucking you whilst Spencer was. Sometimes it just happened.

Spencer was by no means an idiot and he knew you still thought about GI Mountain Man. He knew exactly what you looked like post orgasm and he’d known what the two of you had been doing when you’d said goodbye to him, even if you’d tried hard to hide it. There had been three, maybe four times when you’d said his name under your breath when he was fucking you but you’d never seemed to notice.

Of course it bothered him, a part of him wanted to drive back to Butte and kill Jesse just to make himself feel better. But he was trying to be better for you and so he ignored the occasional slip of the tongue.

Your hand snaked around his wrist, holding him firmly in place in your panties. He knew you were thinking about Jesse now, call it intuition, or gut instinct, but whatever it was Spencer knew.

He used his free hand to relieve himself from his pants and move them down his thighs enough so they were out of his way. He was almost positive that Jesse wasn’t as big as him, couldn’t fill you up the way he could.

In one swift move, he removed his fingers from inside of you and hurriedly plunged his cock between your legs, causing you to gasp and fall flat against the window. Your eyes sprung open at the sudden intrusion and you made eye contact with him in the reflection.

“Jesus Christ, Spence.” You panted as he bottomed out. “A little warning next to him.”

He chose to ignore you, placing his hands flush on the glass either side of your head as he started thrusting into you. He kept eye contact through the glass, not letting you close your eyes for fear you would start thinking of Jesse again.

It’s not fair. I’ve done everything for her, I fucking married her and it’s still not enough. What makes him better than me? Why is he still on her mind?

He tried not to let his anger cloud his judgement and had to rein himself back from fucking you too hard. He forced himself to slow down, thrusting you languidly against the window. You moaned in sync with one another while the Strip below illuminated you both in its chaotic glow.

You kept your eyes on his in the reflection while he fucked you and all thoughts of Jesse left your head. When you were clenching around him, legs shaking from your impending orgasm, he took hold of your left hand and ran his fingers over your wedding band.

“You’re mine.” He mumbled, his face contorting as his own orgasm snuck up on him. “Mine. My partner in crime, my wife, my…fuck.”

He groaned the last word, head falling to your shoulder as he suddenly came inside of you. You whimpered as he filled you up, pushing you over the edge and your legs almost gave up with the force of your orgasm.

You fell back against Spencer’s chest, his arms holding you up right even though his own legs were shaking. As you fought to catch your breath he peeled you away from the window as he slid out of you and helped you over to the couch.

You collapsed onto it, panting heavily and pulling Spencer down with you. He laid his head on your chest and listened to the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

You laid like this for a while until you were both breathing at a normal rhythm and Spencer untangled himself from your arms and got to his feet. He tucked himself away and tugged his pants back up before buttoning them.

“I’m gonna run you a bubble bath.” He smiled softly down at you.

“You gonna join me in it?” You smiled back sleepily.

“Sadly not, I realised I left my wallet at Bennington.” He went to head towards the bathroom but he didn’t get far.

“You had your wallet at dinner.” You sat up, frowning at the back of his head.

Spencer froze in his tracks. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

“Uh,” he turned back to face you, quickly trying to think on his feet, which would be a lot easier if his head wasn’t still hazy from his orgasm. “Not my wallet, I meant the burner phone. I should go and get it.”

You scrutinised him for a moment but thankfully for him your own head was also bleary and wouldn’t allow you to think too much into it.

“Ok.” You shrugged, flopping back to the couch.

Spencer exhaled heavily, continuing on his way to the bathroom. He started the water, pouring in an ample amount of bubble bath and leaving the tub to fill.

“There’s a bar downstairs and a spa, even a casino. If you get bored with the bath and I’m not back, go nuts.” He spoke as headed back into the room, locating the bottle of red wine he’d had sent to the room before you arrived.

He made quick work of the cork and poured you a large glass before coming back over to the couch and dropping down next to you. He handed you the glass and you sat yourself up against the cushions again.

“Hmm I like honeymoons.” You smiled, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a small sip.

Moments later your face fell and you gagged, thrusting the glass back at Spencer before leaping from the couch and running as fast as your legs could carry you to the bathroom.

Spencer heard the toilet seat slam back against the cistern and then the distinctive sound of vomiting echoed around the room.

Realistically he was smart enough to figure out what was going on, as were you, but both of your heads were clouded by other thoughts and so you both missed the obvious.

Spencer padded back to the bathroom and found you on your knees, wiping your hand over your mouth. You looked up at him with large, sad eyes.

“The wine turned against me.” You whined. “Goddamn gas-and-go hotdogs.”

Spencer smiled sadly at you and slid to the floor next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the bath continued to fill behind him.

“Are you going to be ok if I pop out?” Please god say yes, I need this, it has to be tonight.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s passed again now, I guess I just won’t be drinking any wine tonight.” You sighed. “You go, do your thing.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Spencer pushed himself back to his feet and then held his hands out to help you up.

“Of course. Do you think you’ll be gone for long?”

“No idea, traffic at this time of night will probably be a pain, but I promise I’ll hurry.” He stroked your hair back from your face.

“Ok.” You nodded, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the tub. “Go, I’m fine. I can run a bath.”

“I won’t be long.” He went to kiss you but then thought better of it as your breath smelt like vomit. Instead he kissed his first and middle finger and then placed them on your lips making you chuckle.

Soon he was heading out of the room in search of his bag so he could change into jeans and t-shirt. The weapons were in the Chevvy’s glovebox, ready for their next assignment.

He dressed quickly and got his shoes on, throwing on a hoodie before grabbing the car keys and heading to the door.

“Be safe, sweetheart.” He called as he reached for the handle.

“Love you.” You replied and it made his heart swell every time he heard you say that.

As he opened the door, his wedding ring caught his eye and he rolled his lip between his teeth. He forced open the door, ignoring the way his heart practically exploded when he looked at his ring. He had a job to focus on.

But the truth was, you were the only thing keeping him together. He was lost and you’d found him, taken him in and patched him up. His scars both mental and physical didn’t phase you, if anything you’d loved him harder because of them. You’d fixed him up in ways you’d never understand and he hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake in what he was about to do.

He was fairly certain you’d never walk away from him, that nothing he could do could be worse than the things he’d already put you through. Because he was sure one day all that thread keeping him together would come unravelled and if he had no one there to stitch him back up again he would be torn so deeply there would be no repairing him. And god only knows how quickly a broken man would devolve.

No, it's no wonder I feel broken,

Are you the one to fix me up, patching up the work they done?

Try and sew me,

So thread the needle, tie it off, teach me how to trust someone.

Really hoping that you stay,

That you never walk away,

Every word I shouldn't say, I shouldn't say, I shouldn't say it.

Do you feel the stress in me,

Steady bursting at the seams?

You're the only one I need to make me complete, yeah.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

No, it's no wonder you've been feeling,

Like a doll in lost and found, so mistreated, thrown around.

Who you kidding? (You kidding),

Every flaw and every fray, that's what makes you sexy to me.

Really hoping that I stay,

I could never walk away,

Every word we shouldn't say, we shouldn't say, we shouldn't say it.

Do you feel the stress in me,

Steady bursting at the seams?

You're the only one I need to make me complete, yeah.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Elegant and broken, tasteful, tattered clothing,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Motive through emotion, damaged but we're golden,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Elegant and broken, tasteful, tattered clothing,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Motive through emotion, damaged but we're golden,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Really hoping that you stay,

Pray you never walk away,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart,

Oh, pardon all my precious scars.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

103 notes · View notes

jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka · 25 days ago

Text

Happy New Year! 🎉 I clearly couldn’t stay away from these two for long, so I hope you enjoy our epilogue!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner *slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ ONLY minors you are not prepared for the debauchery here. Adult themes including: brief depictions of someone going through depression, loss and longing, it’s just a flashback don’t worry, subtle talk about sexuality in the past tense, talk about surrogacy, baby talk! Smut including: bit of breeding kink, unprotected sex, rimming, dirty talk, use of the word pussy for a male, dad Jake AU, dad Danny AU!

Word count: 4.5k

Late November.

Jake walked around his empty house, putting things away, picking up little bits of forgotten trash, and shutting off lights until everything was dark and he was nothing but a ghost drifting through furniture showrooms in a department store rather than an actual home. His phantom feet carrying him, without thought to step, to his bedroom night after night.

In the light of day he played each role perfectly. The caring father, the studious boss, a thoughtful brother… but in the lonely evenings when he laid in bed staring up at the ceiling the weight of who he wasn’t sat heavy on his chest. A happy lover.

It had been three months since he’d last seen Danny. Last spoken a word to the one person he wanted to confide in most on the days where it was just hard to go on. And those days had been coming more often, lasting longer, until every day was just a mind numbing going through of motions.

It was times like these when Jake tried to think of what his brother would say. He could call him and ask, he knew that, but it had been so long since he last talked to Josh either that he knew he was in for a long speech first.

Thinking of Josh and his capacity to lecture, Jake was suddenly reminded of a time his brother confided in him.

“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” Josh quoted on a random Sunday afternoon, barely pulling Jake’s interest from the sheet music he was currently scribbling down on. “You’ve heard that saying right?”

“Sure I have” Jake answered with a furrow of his brow. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how to put to paper what he heard in his head and it was starting to get to him.

“Do you know where it’s from then?” Josh continued, pushing a little harder for his brother's attention as he sat up on his matching twin mattress and turned to face Jake.

Jake huffed and set his pencil down onto the notebook with a frustrated clack. “Umm, no I don’t. Why?” Giving up on his own task at hand, he decided he could use a little break and looked up to meet a more serious and sober expression from Josh than he’d expected.

“It’s from a poem” Josh explained, slipping off his bed and pacing around their shared room in his socks. “In Memoriam A.H.H. It was written after the death of, as history would put it, ‘a friend’”.

“Oh”. It wasn’t difficult to catch the drift in Josh’s pointed expression. He’d always been sympathetic to people of every kind so it didn’t surprise Jake that he seemed to be somewhat perturbed by the dismissal of the supposed nature of the poet's relationship with this ‘friend’.

“Famous quote about love, and no one even knows where the inspiration came from. Or if they do they choose to ignore it”. His hands came up in animated annoyance before coming back down to slap at his sides in defeat.

“Josh? What’s your point?”

“What I’m saying is” Josh circled around the room and ended up plopping down on the bed next to Jake, avoiding eye contact now. “I don’t know what life has in store for me yet, you seem to have things all figured out” he glanced over at Jake’s still open notebook filled with pages of sheet music and a dream of playing. “But I don’t want part of me to be erased”.

Jake took a moment to process his brother's words, making sure he understood his intention clearly before offering his response. When he was absolutely sure, he slid over and placed an arm around Josh’s slumped shoulders. “You know, you will always be someone of great importance to me, and no matter who you choose to spend your life with we will always be here for you”.

Tears started to threaten the edges of Josh’s eyes. Even with Jake’s arm around him it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew deep down that he’d always have the support of his family, but it still made all the difference to have told Jake first.

“So? Does this mean there’s someone you’re interested in?” Jake teased with a poke to Josh’s reddened cheek.

“No” Josh quickly answered and used the opportunity of swatting Jake’s hand away to wipe at his waterline too. “I just felt like it was time for everyone to know”.

“No worries brother, we will find you someone who will put up with your dramatics eventually”.

Josh shot him a look before scrambling off the bed before Jake could try harder to cheer him up. “Yeah I’m sure that will go well. Why don’t you tell me how it’s been going with that girl from the party? Has she called you back yet?”

“No” Jake answered in the same defeated tone as Josh just had. He picked up his notebook and got situated with it in his lap again. Hopefully by the time she did call him back he’d have this song finished and he could show her…

Jake turned to his side and forced his eyes closed with a winded exhale from his nose. So much had happened since those starry eyes boys first spoke of love.

It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

The phrase reverberated in Jake’s head like a taunting voice in the wind, an echo of life in an abandoned home. Some would say he was lucky to have been given two great loves in his life… but to have lost them both? Jake was sure he was probably the subject of some sick cosmic joke at this point. Doomed to taste love at its greatest but never own it.

When his breathing started to even out and the thoughts receded back into the depths of his mind, an image formed behind his fluttering eyelids.

Danny came into view, laying in the bed next to him and sleeping soundly. Jake smiled in his sleep.

Somewhere even in his unconscious state he knew holding onto this picture was doing more harm than good, but if his dreams were the only place he could be with him then he’d continue to visit them without a fight.

After all, wanting to see your love again was simply who we are. It was who we all are.

One year later.

“Come on, go say goodbye to your cousins Emma and Robbie” Jake called for his daughter as he gathered coats, hats, and gloves to ready themselves for the chilly walk to the car.

“Ok!” She jumped up from the floor and ran back into the kitchen where Danny was helping entertain the kids while his sister cleaned up.

“You’re leaving already?” Danny’s mom spoke up from where she had sat in the corner of the couch and quietly watched the majority of the evening. She noticed Luna's scarf had been tossed off onto the couch next to her, or rather it had been thrown mid game when the kids were chasing after each other in circles earlier.

She gathered the tiny child sized accessory, folding it in her slowly aging hands and stood to hand it over. “I wanted to thank you for coming. Danny tells me you’re staying with your brother?”

“We are. My parents and younger brother are coming over for dinner tomorrow night which is why we had to come here tonight. So really I should be thanking you guys for being so flexible with us” Jake explained with a soft smile.

“Oh we didn’t mind at all. It was just nice to see my son”. Her voice trailed off as her eyes drifted past Jake to where they could hear him laughing with the kids. “I know things have been hard for him, and we didn’t exactly help very much. I’ll have to apologize appropriately for that one of these days. In the meantime it’s been so good to see him happy”.

Feeling a bit bold, or maybe he’d been infected with the holiday spirit that seemed to be brightening everyone’s smiles lately, but he reached over and took one of her hands in his. “It’s not my place to say much, but he’s forgiven you”.

She choked up a bit at Jake’s encouragement and relief seemed to wash over her as her stiffness melted away and she reached up to pat his hands. “Thank you for giving him his spirit back, and for motivating him to start speaking to us again”.

“Of course, though I think you misunderstand who’s been helping who most” he chuckled, thinking about how much of a life saver Danny had been since moving in with him in Nashville.

“No I know” she smiled, and Jake could see right there where Danny had gotten his little half smirk crooked grin from. “The two of you are perfect for each other, and you would be a fool to think otherwise. I’d like to say I’ve earned a little bit of wisdom in my old age”.

“Wisdom and beauty” Jake added, slipping in a bit of his charm. “If you want I can tell Danny we’ll stop by again before flying home?”

“That would be lovely” she nodded her head and just when Jake thought she was going to retreat she pulled him into a hug.

Jake hugged her back and excused himself to finish gathering everyone up. Danny kissed his sister on the cheek as she washed dishes then turned to give his niece and nephew each a big hug. Jake watched in awe as Danny said his heartfelt goodbyes, his heart aching a bit as he held the not even one year old Robbie in his arms for a beat longer before passing him back off to his Dad.

“Oh Jake, hold on one second!” Danny's sister called after him as she pulled her kitchen gloves off and disappeared down the hallway. Jake and Danny exchanged confused glances at each other until she returned with a wipe in her hand. “Here, you might need this”.

He took the wipe from her, still not understanding exactly what to do until he realized it wasn’t just any wipe, it was a makeup wipe. “Oh right, thanks” he replied, having completely forgotten he’d allowed the girls to give him a ‘makeover’ after dinner. No he felt a bit like an idiot having had that conversation with Danny’s mom while looking no doubt like a clown.

As Luna ran in front of them Danny slipped his hand into Jake’s, intertwining their fingers together as he leaned over. “Purple really is your color you know”.

“Shut up” Jake scowled as he blindly tried to clean his face, probably just smearing everything until he got in the car and could look in the mirror.

A week had passed since they returned to Nashville after visiting everyone for the holidays. Jake’s attention was pulled for a moment as Danny emerged from the bathroom, hitting the light behind him with his elbow and making his way barefoot across their bedroom as he rubbed lotion into his skin. First across his forearms, then up his biceps, and back down to smear the remainder through his fingers.

Jake had never met a man who cared as much about personal upkeep as Danny did. Well maybe besides Josh but he never paid that any mind. Danny was always urging Jake to use some moisturizer though, especially in the dry winter months down south, or offering to give him a full body massage with warm oils. The one time Jake had actually taken him up on that offer he of course had a life altering experience that ended coincidentally with the both of them naked.

The smell of vanilla and pine infiltrated Jake’s senses as Danny made it to the bed, and Jake knew it came from a holiday themed bottle Danny’s mom had gifted him for Christmas. He could tell just from looking at him Danny was freshly shaven too, probably what had taken him so long after his shower.

Before Danny used to shave in the mornings, always more diligent about staying facial hair free than Jake was who sometimes let it go a few days past what should’ve been his limit. Recently though Danny had taken to shaving in the evenings because he knew Jake liked how soft his skin was afterwards. He’d crawl to his side in bed and tuck his head under his chin breathing in all of his scent as Danny’s chest shook with giggles.

“What are you looking at?” Danny questioned when Jake tore his eyes away and back down at his phone.

“Hmm? Nothing” Jake replied, caught red handed as he switched his phone off quickly.

Danny frowned with his elbow propped up on his pillow and his head in his hand. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, s’fine” Jake slurred his words as he nibbled on his thumbs cuticle, anxiety blooming in his chest as he debated on now being the right time to have a talk.

“Jake,” Danny reached over and pulled his hand from his mouth. He’d worked so hard on getting Jake to stop chewing on his fingers and he wasn’t about to let him lapse now. “Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me right?”

Jake sighed, letting his walls come down with his exhale. “Yeah I know, it’s just a lot ok?”

“Okay?” Danny was even more concerned now, hoping Jake would eventually tell him what was on his mind rather than letting him try to sleep now imagining the worst.

“I’ve been thinking about having another baby”.

“Oh”.

Danny sat up now, clearly this was something he needed to be absolutely present for. “A baby?”

“I know, like I said it’s a lot. It’s just I saw you with baby Robbie last week and you were so good with him, it got me thinking and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since”.

Listening intently until he was done, Danny took a brief moment to process everything before a huge grin stretched across his face. “So, seeing me with my nephew made you get baby fever?”

Jake’s face lit up like the red lights on the Christmas trees they’d still yet to take down in the living room before nodding his head. “And how do you feel about that?”

“I’m…” Danny scooted closer, picking up Jake’s phone and silently asking him to unlock it, “intrigued. Will you show me?”

Jake tilted the phone more towards his face, the scanning feature picking up on it and the screen coming back to life. It revealed the website for a surrogacy agency nearby, he’d been doing research on it and looking into the programs they offered. At first it had just started off as some light browsing, but soon he became more obsessed with finding the perfect match even though he hadn’t exactly talked to Danny about it yet.

“I’ve been looking at this profile” Jake navigated the website expertly, showing he’d been around it enough to know exactly where to go now.

Danny read over the details, Jake watching his eyes scan back and forth waiting for any sign of what he thought. “She’s good” he nodded, “I mean I’d need to get some more details, and we should probably give it a few days to see if this is really what we want, but a baby does sound exciting”.

“Really?” Jake asked, almost in disbelief that Danny was actually considering this crazy idea to grow their family.

“Really really” Danny smiled and leaned over to place a swift kiss to his lips.

“There’s one more thing” Jake continued, moving for a moment to plug his phone in before turning back to Danny. “If we do this, choose surrogacy, I’d want it to be yours. I mean the baby will be ours, but for the sample we’d give them… I’d want it to be yours”.

Again Danny needed just a moment to think about how he’d respond. Was Jake sure about that? He was the one who brought up wanting to have another child in the first place so Danny was unsure whether or not he should take that responsibility for his own.

“I’d want our baby to have your eyes”.

Danny looked up meeting Jake’s sparkling gaze and he was overcome with so much emotion for the man that he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close to his chest. “I love you”.

Jake didn’t need to say it too; it was evident in the way he hugged Danny back, trying not to be over the moon about how well this talk had gone. In the same moment Danny pressed a kiss to his chest, then his neck, and his jaw, before he was crawling on top of Jake and smashing their lips together passionately.

“A baby!” Danny beamed, giving Jake a second to catch his breath. “I can’t wait,” his hands started to trail down Jake’s sides, landing on his hips and pulling him down into a lying position. “Should we try for one now?”

“T-try for one?” Jake stuttered, becoming more and more flustered by the way Danny continued to pet his sides and tickle his neck with the tip of his nose. He wiggled as his breath came out in a shudder when Danny’s hand reached down the front of his sleep pants to feel him already half-hard.

“You heard me” Danny emphasized his point with a slow drawn out stroke.

“And you realize that’s impossible right?” Jake countered, trying desperately to remain calm in the face of Danny’s expert hands. “I don’t have the anatomy to carry a child”.

Danny’s lips, the lips that were currently leaving opened mouthed kisses on every square inch of Jake’s collar, pulled into a smile as he chuckled. “I know, but I bet you wish it was you I was getting knocked up. Don’t you?”

Jake let his eyes roll back and his eyelids fluttered closed as his body temperature started to rise, at least until Danny’s had retreated completely.

“I said, don't you?” Danny asked again once he’d gotten Jake’s attention back.

“Yes Danny” Jake breathed out, somehow the admission turning him on even more than the slight attention to his lower half had caused.

“Good boy. Now roll over”.

Jake obediently followed Danny’s command without another word.

In the year they had been together now Danny and Jake had explored plenty of sexual experiences with each other. They had taken their time learning what the other liked and taught each other even more along the way by willing trading roles. Even if Jake did secretly prefer Danny to take the lead most of the time.

Like tonight, Danny pulled Jake’s pants off and tossed them somewhere he wasn’t concerned with at the moment, pausing just for a beat to admire how Jake looked beneath him, already completely hard and flushed all over. He’d never get over how beautiful he was.

“Now, I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy until you’re good and ready to take me”. A gasp left Jake when Danny spread him open and spit directly on his hole. “Hmm, looks like you like the sound of that” he teased next, using his finger to spread his saliva around. “You’re already clenching around nothing”.

Jake was finally pushed past his mind’s breaking point when Danny leaned in, making him think he was about to do as he’d said, and blew cool air through pursed lips instead. “Jesus Danny just do something already!” He pound his fist onto the mattress and dropped his head below his shoulders in a fit of hormone induced insanity.

Normally Danny wouldn’t reward attitude like this, but even after how they had gotten here, tonight wasn’t about establishing dominance or bending Jake to his will. It was about showing him just how absolutely cherished he was. So Danny caved and gave him what he wanted, his mouth connecting with him in a way only the most devoted of lovers could offer.

At first Jake felt somewhat ashamed by how much he liked it. This certainly wasn’t something he’d have the gall to ask for, so for the time being he was enjoying himself to his full potential rocking his hips backwards and fucking himself on Danny’s tongue.

The only complaint he had was with Danny so focused he couldn’t hear his sultry voice whispering dirty nothings in his ear. Instead he had to suffer through listening to himself whimper and moan uncontrollably. A particularly loud moan escaped him when Danny added a finger, hooking it deep inside as his tongue continued to make sure his rim was relaxed.

“You ready to lay back down? Want you nice and relaxed when I pump you full of my cum”.

There it was again, his fabulous, seductive, voice speaking absolute filth that had Jake shaking at the knees in anticipation. As he situated himself on his back again Danny stood out of bed to undress and collect their favorite lube, smirking when he turned back around to the sight of Jake slowly stroking himself.

“What?” Jake cocked a challenging brow. “Can’t I enjoy the view?” His gaze flickered down to the toned muscles of Danny’s ass, biting his bottom lip into his mouth as he started to tug harder.

Danny crawled back onto the bed, taking Jake’s hand in his own and pinning it to the pillows above him as he came face to face, nose to nose, with him. “Not as much as I enjoy mine”.

Jake tried to crane his neck for a kiss, but Danny turned at the last moment and kissed at his shoulder instead as they started to grind their bare erections together.

“Danny” Jake muttered in that honeyed pleading voice that made Danny stop in his tracks every time. “Kiss me”.

Danny’s brows furrowed, trying not to show how badly he wanted to especially when Jake asked him to with those heart-shaped pouty lips.

He tugged his pinned arm, and Danny loosened his grip allowing Jake to slip free and move down to cup Danny’s face in his palm. “I want you to kiss me, then I want you to fuck me until I see stars”.

“Jake,” Danny breathed softly, using his grip to guide his boyfriend's legs up around his hips. “You’re so perfect. I want you to know that”.

The pads of his fingers tightened along Danny’s jaw line as Jake urged him to look him in the eyes. “No one’s perfect, but I love you and you love me, and that’s all that matters anyway”.

Danny wholeheartedly agreed by claiming his lips again, the intensity rising once more as he applied lube over the both of them and slowly pushed inside. The kiss only broke when they were fully connected, Jake sighing in relief and Danny groaning deep against his chest. They stayed like that for a while, Jake’s legs hooked like vice grips on Danny’s hips urging him deeper.

Jake’s cock was aching as it leaked wildly between their bodies, but he knew if he tried to touch himself again it’d be over too soon. He wanted tonight to last a little longer, feeling some new sense of rejuvenation and energy with the prospect of their future. Danny felt it too. He felt closer to Jake than ever before as he steadily thrust inside him, rising to ask for another kiss before increasing his pace and pulling more melodic moans from his lover.

Even if they wanted to go all night, which they had plenty of times in the past when securing a babysitter, they both reached their peak together Danny spilling inside with a breathy moan and Jake truly getting so high on the feeling he felt like he was floating through the cosmos. After coming back down, Danny helped clean them up before crawling back under the covers and pulling Jake close to his side.

“You think I’ll make a good father?”

Jake, who had already started to drift in and out of a light sleep looked up with an expression that read are you serious?

“I mean you are such a good Dad already,” Danny avoided looking down at Jake, knowing his sudden trepidation was silly and delusive, but still searched for some reassurance anyway. “It’s a lot to live up to isn’t it?”

“It is” Jake confirmed, but he would have never suggested trying for a baby if he didn’t think Danny was absolutely prepared for the role. “And you are so good with all of the kids already. You don’t have anything to worry about my love”.

The room filled with silence again and Jake laid his head back on Danny’s chest already closing his eyes once more. Danny on the other hand couldn’t sleep just yet. He realized why Jake had been researching it so much the past week, Danny couldn’t get the idea out of his mind. Holding a tiny baby in his arms, smelling that distinct newborn smell from the top of their little fuzzy head, letting Luna meet them for the first time. It was all playing out in his head like a film he couldn’t wait to see.

A smile crept quietly onto his face, and Danny glanced down to see Jake already snoring softly with his lips slightly parted and his cheek smushed to his shoulder. “I think Luna would love a little sister” he whispered, tucking a stray tangle of hair behind Jake's ear and kissing his temple before laying back and dreaming of their beautiful family.

Fifteen months later.

“Got it!” Danny cheered in success as he managed to get all the safety straps on the car seat base secured into place. “Why didn’t we do that before getting to the hospital?” He chuckled as he backed away from the door and let Jake by to load the precious cargo.

“It’s been a while since I had one this tiny. I forgot” Jake admit as he made sure the sun shade was down and she was still sleeping soundly, lingering for a minute to admire her wispy raven baby curls. “And I was excited to get here”.

“Right” Danny laughed even harder, waiting for Jake to duck back out and noticing a small fleck on his cheek when he turned around. “Wait hold on a sec” He caught Jake by the arm and used the pad of his ring finger to gently swipe across his cheek bone. “It’s an eyelash, make a wish”.

Jake examined the minuscule black lash on the tip of Danny’s finger then looked up at him with a blush. “But all my wishes have already come true”.

Danny shook his head and blew the lash away himself then leaned in to steal a quick kiss right there in the parking lot. “Alright then, come on let's get Stella home”.

Fin.

Tags: @kultavalo @sanguinebats @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @freyjalw @lyndz2names

#it’s officially over guys!#I’m not crying you’re crying 😭#Greta van fic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #janny gvf

20 notes · View notes

venerawrites · 10 months ago

Note

THANK YOU wonderful lovely person for writing for this fandom 😍 so glad you're here!💐

if you feel inspired, may I request some hurt/comfort Sasuke goodness? can be modern au depression or dealing w the aftermath of the truth behind the Uchiha massacre...are there any ways to help him out of a bereft slump or have faith in the future again?

also, your theme and artwork choices are simply gorgeous 🙌🏻 and the delicious angst 🤤

author's note: thank you so much for your beautiful words! I have been waiting to be in the right mood for this one, so I am really sorry you had to wait this long... I really hope you like it, because I always feel like comfort is the hardest for me to write. Thank you for requesting and for the idea! <3

Some people leave your life just as unexpectedly as they show up. They offer nothing but distant memories of shared late evenings and cold tea, which soon make you question your sanity and if they were ever real at all.

Such person was Sasuke Uchiha.

You met him years ago, while he was working for a shady man called Orochimaru and was in pursuit of revenge against his brother. He was not like any boy you've met before: arrogant, proud, constantly tense, and untrusting. Rarely talked about himself, and much preferred to sit in silence, dwelling on his own thoughts, than to voice his feelings and opinions out loud. He always seemed in a hurry, constantly telling you he could stay no longer than an hour before he had to leave again.

To this day you never learned the true intentions behind his visits. The first time it was a simple call for help - sitting on a lone hill between the borders of the Land of Wind and the Land of Rivers, he easily mistaken your cottage for an abandoned house where he could seek refuge after being badly wounded.

A terrifying surprise was written on both of your faces once you came back home later that afternoon only to find the black-haired ninja bleeding heavily on your bed. You were no medic, but you used your limited knowledge of herbal medicine to help his recovery as much as you could. In return, he spared your life.

He visited irregularly, but often after this. Sometimes he showed up three times per week, and sometimes months passed before you heard from him again. Sasuke never offered any explanation about where he was or what he was doing, instead often justifying his random appearances as his need for alternative treatment for his scars and wound.

The first few times it made you raise your brows in question - you were not an expert healer, all you knew being tales passed down from your grandmother about the properties of a handful of plants. Yet, you never spilled your suspicion out loud to him, instead quietly finding comfort in his presence.

It was strange how well you got along, your shared love for silence and solitude somehow bringing you together. Most of the time you just sat there, next to each other, quietly sipping your tea and staring at the sky.

Sometimes you caught him glancing at you or curiously inspecting all the pictures and books you had on the shelves around your living room, his lips pressed into a thin line of concentration, while he tried to put the pieces of your life story together in his mind. He never asked you for more other than your name and your age. You never offered anything more either.

It took a few months after his last visit for you to realize he wasn't coming back and that in the end, he was no more than a stranger to you - you didn't know anything about him other than his name, his birth village, and the fact that he wanted to kill his brother. His motives were never revealed, and his ambitions for the future - never shared.

Despite this, it always felt like he was some form of friend to you. There was a silent understanding that both of you carried too much weight on your shoulders and you did not wish to revisit a painful past by re-telling it, instead finding peace in watching the beauty of the stars up the sky or the birds, who migrated to their new home in the late summer afternoons.

Years have passed since then. What you cherished as meaningful moments soon turned into dusty memories, that never reminded you of him outside your dreams. Life continued, despite time staying still - time always felt frozen when you lived a life by yourself, away from all humanity.

So when you found him one day, glaring at you with red eyes, you were both dumbfounded and terrified. He looked at you in a way that screamed hatred, rage, sadness, and pain. For a second you wondered if they were directed at you.

"I didn't know where else to go."

His voice was the total opposite of how he looked - it was small and weak, almost on the verge of breaking.

You quickly stepped aside, an unspoken invitation for him to come into your home. His feet hurried past you and you closed the door after him, immediately walking toward the kitchen to prepare jasmine tea. His favourite. Sasuke didn't like tea, but there was something about the way you prepared it that always eased both his muscles and his nerves.

After a while you came back, holding two white mugs in your hands, only to find him with his head buried in his hands and his knee shaking violently. You quickly sat next to him, before placing the drinks on the table and turning toward him, instinctively placing your hand on his back, rubbing small circles.

"I did it", he said with a hoarse voice, his head still hanging low, his black locks covering his face from you. There was no need for him to say anything else - these three words were enough for you to understand that he has finally achieved his goal. The result, however, seemed not to be what he hoped for.

"I am sorry."

Sasuke finally raised his head, looking at you with narrowed eyes. You could see the trail of dry tears covering his cheeks and you easily assumed he must have cried while you were in the kitchen. His lips were twisted in a scowl and he let out an angry breath through his nose.

"I don't need your pity!"

Despite the aggression in his tone, his eyes started to tear up again and he squeezed his eyelids shut in a poor attempt to stop them from falling.

"I have finally learned the truth", he hissed through gritted teeth, "I finally learned why my brother really did it."

The mention of the word "brother" seemed to trigger something in him and the tears started flowing freely from his eyes, while his lips started to mumble incoherent sentences about the Uchiha Massacre, Konoha, and the orders the elders gave to his brother. It was a mess - he kept referring back to his talks with a man named "Madara" while jumping back and forth between the memories of that bloody night and his plans for destroying the Leaf. It took you a while to piece the chronology together, while the feelings he kept bottling for years just kept erupting, reducing what you once knew as a stoic and controlled man, into a sobbing, raging mess on the floor.

It took around an hour for him to finish his story and for you to quietly absorb every detail, while he poured his heart out to you. The hand that was first rubbing soothing patterns on his back, was laying flat in his palm, while his fingers squeezed it for dear life. It almost looked like he was afraid that you were nothing more than a fruit of his imagination and if he let go, you would disappear into thin air and leave him by himself.

"I will destroy them!", the vow was made once there were no more tears left for him to cry, "They will all pay for what they did to my clan! To Itachi! To ME!

Taking a sip of your tea, you hummed under your breath, before turning towards him. For the whole time he was here, you didn't comment on anything he told you, but you also didn't have the chance to do so, as Sasuke left no time between his voiced thoughts for you to mutter even a word.

"And then what?", the question surprised him and he turned to you with confused expression.

"What do you mean "then what?"

Pulling your hand away, you tilted your head to the side.

"You are going to destroy your village, sacrificing the innocent lives of many, including your old friends, teammates, and teachers", you thought out loud, moving your eyes toward the old map of the world that hung framed on the wall opposite you, "And then what? The Leaf's allies would without question turn against you, and then you are going to have to destroy them too. A bloody path, that would eventually end either in your early death or in pushing someone else to take your path and seek revenge on you."

The more you talked, the lower his brows were furrowing to the point he was staring at you under the dark shade of his frowning face. His face was almost distorted - switching from extreme emotions of sadness and grief to anger and aggression, his whole expression was now twisted in an almost inhuman grimace, a mixture of all.

"None of them are innocent", he huffed, his jaw working, "They were all enjoying a carefree life, because of the sacrifice of my brother... and even then, they still called him a traitor."

There were no words of rebuttal you could offer. You didn't know his life in the village, nor how the people there behaved. Perhaps, the people living there were monsters, who lacked both heart and soul. But weren't they like that everywhere? You may have lived alone and detached from society, but you had enough contact with traveling ninjas - both rogue and village warriors - to know that they were all often fighting for the same cause, it was just their ideas of how it could be achieved that differed.

"And is that something that he would wanted?"

The man lifted his knee and rested his arm on top of it. He seemed to contemplate your question, the muscles on his face twitching every few seconds.

"No", the truth came out as a disappointed sigh. His fingers clenched and you could hear his teeth gritting, before he looked at you with cold eyes.

"But I am not him! I won't repeat the same mistakes!"

Holding his gaze felt almost like staring into the eye of a brewing storm. The determination that he radiated hinted that this is was just the beginning - he still had more hate and more anger to give to the world.

"Yet you seem to repeat your own mistakes over and over", the challenge was bold and even he seemed taken aback. Sasuke rarely got people opposing him - other than Naruto, who always had to have a contrasting opinion - but usually his ideas were met either with encouragement or with silence. His own team was either too scared or too busy with their own worries to question him and his motives, often just nodding their heads at whatever he said.

A dry chuckle left his lips before he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Every time he came he was met with the comfort of silence, your bond built entirely on the feeling of the safety he felt every time he visited. Now he wondered if that bond was even real - never had he expected that you would actually talk so much, let alone NOT support him.

He imagined that he would just come here, you would make him his favourite tea... and he didn't know what he was thinking when he came here. He didn't plan to tell you any of the truth he learned about his clan's death and Itachi, yet the sentences just kept spilling out of his body, almost like he had no control over it.

"What do you know?", he scoffed, giving you a mocking look, "You live here alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere."

Sasuke suddenly leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"What exactly do you know about the world or even about living? The gravest mistake you probably made was to put too much water in your stupid tea. You know nothing about pain or the real world out there! You know nothing about having everything taken away from you!"

Your expression hardened. You held his furious stare, bravely accepting his poisonous words, which cut deeper and deeper into your soul. Once he finished talking, his breath was rigid once again.

"You will be no different than them", you stated blankly and the man grumbled in response, "The people who pushed your brother to commit these crimes. And I know deep down, you realise that too... Because somewhere out there there is a little kid, who just like you will one day waste his whole life chasing you, dreaming of punishing you, till they become just like you. And the cycle will continue."

His eyes were now back to his original onyx colour, yet the burning sensation they brought to your insides was just the same.

"I didn't come here for you to offer me lessons of morality."

"Why did you come then?"

No answer.

"I offer you nothing, but my honesty", you continued, standing up from your seat, "If you are here to seek support and encouragement for your plans of destroying the lives of thousands of innocent people, you are in the wrong place."

It was definitely a mistake visiting you. He should've known better. Why you, of all people, would understand him?

Grabbing his stuff, he followed your figure into the kitchen. You seemed unbothered by his looming presence behind you, instead focusing on washing the two empty cups. Once you were done, you just rested your hands on the counter, facing the big kitchen window that overlooked the forest. If it wasn't for the faint breathing sound, you would have thought he had left.

"There is light inside you, Sasuke", you finally said, "And no matter how hard you try to fight it, it is there. Don't try to kill it! Use it and spread it in order to bring the change you want to see."

"You don't know me!"

"Maybe not as much as I would like", you shrugged your shoulders, your eyes still gazing at the trees whose branches danced elegantly under the wind, "But I know if you were really that heartless, as you like me to think, you would've drawn that katana you rest your hand on a long time ago."

Sasuke moved his fingers away as if the handle of his weapon suddenly burned his skin and his head dropped low. How did you know, when your back was facing him the whole time?

Before he could raise his question, you started walking toward the door, waving your hand after you.

"Come!"

Not leaving any time for an answer, your form was already outside by the time he could register your simple command and follow it. He was not one to do what others told him to, but his body seemed to act on its own, his steps echoing after yours before his mind could protest.

The man found you sitting on your front steps, a place where you and he have shared countless late nights, just gazing at the sky above you. Like a habit, he sat next to you, easing into the comfort of your old routine without further questioning.

"This area was a village back when my parents were children. It was a small one - only a handful of farmers and herb gatherers", Sasuke looked at you in surprise, before scanning the area. He had never paid attention to the surroundings of your home, noting only the existence of a forest on the right and a large meadow on the left. Now, on a closer inspection, he could see the remaining stones and paths, which were half-covered by moss and too strategically placed around to be just random rocks.

There were remaining memories of buildings now long gone.

"My grandmother always said that our ancestors were tasked with the responsibility to restore what the Great Nations destroyed", you continued, bringing his attention back to you, "Where the ninja waged war, we followed to take care of the land and bring it back to life. Where the villagers left burned forests after they sought new places to build, we moved to these places to protect the balance between the human world and the natural one."

Sasuke listened patiently, his brows furrowed in confusion. Where were you getting with this story? And more importantly, where were all these people you talked about?

Almost like you've read his mind, your head turned toward him with a small sad smile on your lips.

"Our communities have been destroyed dozens of times and they rebuilt themselves just as many. This village was destroyed before I was even born by a conflict between the Land of Wind and the Land of River, one which had nothing to do with the hard-working people who were guilty only of trying to take care of the forest and wildlife", you looked towards your crossed fingers in your lap, suddenly overwhelmed of the sad destiny your family must have suffered.

"There is no greater sin than the arrogance of a man blinded by revenge. Shinobi keep waging wars with each other, each drop of blood they spill being with price of at least one innocent life. And they keep destroying, blinded by their hate, claiming that they only want to "save the world"", suddenly grabbing his arm, you pointed at the trees with your other hand, before dragging it across the air to the meadow, "But look!"

The onyx eyes followed the movement of your finger, before they rested on your face unimpressed.

"Look at what? Trees and grass?"

You huffed at his words, rolling your eyes.

"You are blind, Sasuke!", your forefinger poked his temple a few times and you could feel him stiffen under your touch, "You watch, but you don't see! It is not just trees and grass!"

When he offered no other reply than a small curling of his lips downwards, you gently grabbed his chin and forcefully turned it ahead again.

"It is life! A life born out of destruction, out of pain", your hand gestured around you once again, "The truth is the world doesn't need saving! It has existed for many, many years before us and will exist for many, many years after us. It is us, humans, that need saving... and not by more blood spilling or fear, or hate, or whatever other false values they try to teach you in your ninja academies."

His muscles finally started to relax under your touch, while he kept staring ahead, finally understanding the meaning of the words that you were saying. The slow realization that destroying Konoha is not the medicine for his bleeding soul was slowly creeping into his mind, suddenly making him confused and unsure.

"What if we can't be saved?", the heavy doubts that kept holding him down finally came to the surface, "What if we just... keep destroying?"

You looked at him in silence, before finally letting go of his arm. The sudden removal of warmth made him involuntarily shiver.

"We will keep destroying", you finally answered, pressing your tongue inside your cheek in thought, "I guess it is in our nature! But we will also rebuild. And we will learn from our past mistakes, making sure that we will not repeat them again."

Signing, you turned toward him, before reaching out for his hand again. All his life, Sasuke always thought he hated physical touch, but now it felt right. It felt like it was a silent promise that everything will somehow be alright.

"Do not go down the same path of hatred, Sasuke. Your destination will keep being the same, no matter how hard you try to avoid it", the corners of your lips curved slightly upwards, "Your pursuit for a better world is noble, but you can't do it alone! The same way this forest and meadow did not just pop in one day by themselves - it took years for them to grow, helped by bees, the birds, and even the wind and the rain... They all did their own part. The same way you need to do yours, alongside your friends."

The silence that followed was long, yet comfortable. His fingers wrapped around your palm, keeping your hand in his, while his mind considered the truth you just spoke. There was a part inside of him - the one that was still hurt and crying - that wanted to convince him that it was all just an empty talk. That he should not give up what he already started.

Another part, however, what seemed to be a louder one and for some reason sounded a lot like his brother's voice in his head, was agreeing with you, shifting the perspective he was looking from.

A long time passed till he spoke again.

"Promise me", there was no trace of anger on his face anymore, just tiredness, "That you will always be clear and honest with me."

You couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips.

"I promise."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years have passed since the end of the war and Sasuke was once again on the road, this time accompanied by Sakura. Their final destination was unclear, but the first stop was already set in his mind - the cottage sitting on a hill between the borders of the Land of Wind and the Land of Rivers. He has not seen you since that night you opened his eyes to what is really important, but the thought of you never left his mind.

The woman next to him, who still had an unclear status between a teammate and friend, kept trying to make him share where were they going, but was often met either with just silence or with the simple explanation of "someone important". The description make her a bit uneasy, wondering who could have such an impact on Sasuke to want to check on them first thing after he was allowed to leave, but she did not question further, still unsure of how far the man's boundaries lie.

Once they got to the hill, however, her uneasiness grew.

"Sasuke, there is nothing here", she said, looking around the vast field that bordered a forest nearby, "Are you sure that person lived here? Maybe they moved?"

The man did not reply, his body being frozen in place. You were gone, the house was gone, it was just wild nature. He suddenly tensed, once he felt Sakura's hand laying flat between his shoulder blades and running small circles on top of the clothed skin.

Just like you did that night.

Sasuke made a few steps further, before kneeling and touching the ground. While looking the same as the rest at first glance, the grass covering the area where he vividly remembered your house being seemed different... almost greener, yet smaller.

A small parchment of paper poked out of the dirt next to his fingers and he carefully lifted it, revealing a burnt part of the world map that hung on your wall once. The majority of it was gone, but he could clearly make out the names of the Land of Wind, The Land of Rivers, and the Land of Fire. Right in the middle, was a small drawing of a few houses - an indication of where your community once resided. Where you once were.

Sakura peered over his shoulder, looking at the piece of paper with interest.

"There still don't seem to be any indication for a building being here", she noted, before kneeling next to him and caressing the grass with her fingers, "This part of the field was grown by someone. Look, it is a different shade and size from the rest! It is like someone tried to cover the area."

Sasuke stood up, eyes still focused on the piece of paper. There was one, just a brief pencil line, that started from the drawn houses and continued up, till it ended at the burnt end. The man has stared at least a hundred times at the map in your house and he could swear he has never seen this line on it.

"You must have used it to plan where to leave next", he thought to himself. Because deep down he knew you were not dead - everything was left too perfect, including planting seeds in the place which you used to occupy, for him to believe you had met your end.

No, you had to be somewhere out there, rebuilding what shinobi like him have destroyed during the war.

He turned his head toward the sun, watching it slowly dip beyond the horizon. His fingers put the paper in his pocket, before he turned to Sakura, informing her they have to go and find an inn before it gets too dark.

And for Sasuke, such person was you.

cc artwork: Clement Tingry

#sasuke uchiha #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #sasuke angst

86 notes · View notes

northwest-cryptid · 10 months ago

Text

Hey all, sorry for hitting a depressive slump lately. I was planning a whole April fools stream and various things regarding collabs but a lot of that has fallen through unfortunately due to health complications. Those same health complications are making my employer refuse to give me hours, and he's had me on unpaid medical leave that he refuses to take me off of until a doctor clears me for work; which they won't because I have long form mold exposure infections due to working in the back rooms where they have really bad mold problems they refuse to do anything about.

This is all to say that I'm unfortunately dealing with a ton of bills coming due this month and I genuinely literally have -$100 in my bank account. I have done fund raising streams and such in the past when I've desperately needed money and I've always felt awful about them. I hate asking others for money, it doesn't sit right with me. However when I made the post mentioning my financial situation there were a few individuals who specifically either replied to the post directly or asked in my inbox/DMs if I happened to have a donation link.

The thought hadn't crossed my mind because I'm someone who would rather just say "I'll figure it out" when in reality I have no idea how I'm going to get out of this. I can't go back to work without a doctor's note, I can't even get to a doctor without money; I have rent, credit card payments, and car payments due on the 2nd and I'm already $100 in the red. I'm stressed beyond belief and at this point, as much as I hate to ask for anything. If anyone is WILLING and has spare funds, anything helps. I've dug up my old Ko-fi if you'd like to make any sort of donation. Thank you to everyone who has shown support and concern for me, it's nice to know there are people out there who are in some way willing and able to help with this sort of thing.

If you'd like to donate and help me out, the link to do so is: https://ko-fi.com/nwcryptid

56 notes · View notes

celestialbackbiter · 10 months ago

Text

there is ground to break

luke x apollo!reader

nsfw under the split

it still amazed you, even after four years, just how mystical camp half-blood truly was. from the rolling green of half-blood hill, to the vicious reds of the strawberry fields, to the vastness of the amphitheatre. everything in camp half-blood screamed 'blessed by the gods'.

you often found yourself thinking of the colours of the camp, especially on a day like today - when the sun shone high and hot in the sky, when there was little wind to pick the hair up off your neck and cool you, when you felt as though your own father was trying to smite you down for your wrongdoings with the intensity of the sun's rays.

it possibly didn't help that you were stood alone in the amphitheatre - which was rarely, if ever, used by other campers at this time of day because of the heat the dipped down stage brought - practice sword in hand, thrashing and jabbing and slicing your way through the air. you tried to remember what luke castellan, the camps lead teacher of sword fighting, had said to do in battle. this was, of course, in vain. you never knew what luke was saying, you never could concentrate on his lessons.

you never could draw yourself away from the way his eyes gleamed as he waxed poetic about the importance of a demigod's sword. you never could stop yourself from focusing more on the way his lips formed the words than what the words actually meant. you never could draw yourself away from how backbiter - his own dual-metal sword - glinted in the beaming sunlight and cast a golden glow on his face. like apollo had blessed him, a sign from your father that he was for you. you never could tear yourself from catching how that golden glint teetered at the edge of the scar that ran the length of the right side of his face and made it look startlingly smooth.

you never could draw yourself away from the feeling you got when luke's eyes dragged across his campmates faces, looking for any sign of recognition or life, and skimmed over your own - the way you convinced yourself he hesitated just a moment too long on you.

the practice sword glidded over your head in a twirl.

of course there was a reason for him to hesitate on you. at least in your head there was (whether that thought translated to luke's is a different question).

last winter, when camp half-blood was at the typical bare bones capacity and the campfire singalongs were seeming more and more tedious as the months to summer stretched before you; when the new year had been rang in almost a month prior; when the weather outside the invisible bubble of camp turned the weather inside to almost subzero; when all you wanted was to climb into your warm bed in your golden cabin; luke had kissed you.

your sword sliced through the air with a violent whirl that left your shoulder socket feeling a little worse for wear.

now, this kiss was not out of the blue or completely unexpected to an extent. you and luke had been skirting around the subject of relationships for a while now. not because either of you particularly had romantic feelings for each other, gods no, but because yourself and luke, in a friendly late night talk by the lake when neither of you could sleep because of the bad dreams and the lack of noise at camp that time of year, had realised you were both almost-20-year-old virgins. and this depressed you.

you had drifted toward the edge of the amphitheatre now, feet dancing along the edge of the grass in your sword play with an invisible force, almost touching the first stone step. you decided you'd had enough and sat down heavily on the hot rock, discarding the wooden sword at your feet.

you sat for a while catching your breath with your face tilted upward, sending a silent prayer to your father - apollo - to ease off with the blaring sun a little, when you glanced down at the watch on your left wrist. 12:40. you'd missed lunch. you heaved a sigh, and slumped forward in your seat, bracing your elbows on your knees and closing your eyes. blood rushed in your ears, your heart beat fast.

the sweltering summer heat on your neck suddenly lessened and you thought for a millisecond that apollo had listened, so you whispered a small "thank you" in ancient greek.

"I'm not sure what I did but you're welcome."

you started. eyes open suddenly and on your feet in a second. luke.

he stood tall in front of you, now sitting a good 6 or 7 inches taller than you since the great growth spurt of his 16th year, broad and smiling, casting a shadow on where you lept from. his dark curls were beginning to stick to his forehead at his hairline, you assumed due to the walk over to the amphitheatre.

"gods, luke," you huffed out with relief "you scared me."

he laughed and sounded heavenly, " yeah I noticed." you reached out and swatted his chest with the back of your hand, bending and picking the sword up from the ground and beginning to push past him. "you missed lunch."

you repeated his previous words back to him with a smile as you began the walk back to the main camp grounds, climbing the steps of the amphitheatre. "how long have you been out here?" he asked.

you glanced at your watch again. your stomach grumbled. "almost 2 hours apparently."

he hummed appreciatively and sarcastically stated "you looked good. almost strong." you stopped walking and stared.

"how long were you watching me, you stalker?"

"long enough to see you don't really pay attention to what I teach."

"maybe you should be better at it then." he hummed again and raised his eyebrows, looked up at you from 2 steps below.

"I brought you lunch, if you want it." he lifted his right hand to you palm side up, with an orange paper napkin parcelling something in his outstretched hand. you reached out to get it. luke snatched it back, throwing it lightly into his left hand. you scowled. "tell me I'm a good teacher."

now it was your turn to raise your eyebrows. "sorry?"

"tell me I'm a good teacher. then you can eat." you shook your head and moved towards luke on the step to take the sandwich from his hands, but he held it above his head, causing you to stumble in your feeble attempt to get it. your hand came up to his chest to steady yourself against him.

"that is a human rights violation, you can't starve me to get your way." you put your hands on your hips and luke followed them for a split second, tracing your arms back up to your face.

"good job you're not a human then, huh?" he said with a tilt of his head, another quick eyebrow raise, and a hint of arrogance, the orange napkin still in his hand.

your stomach growled again and you huffed, stomping your foot like a tantrum-riddled toddler. "fine! you're a good teacher. can I have my lunch now?" he laughed again and it sounded even better than before. he sat down on the stone next to you and pulled you down with him by your back belt loop, handing you the parcel. you blushed at the ease in which he moved you.

it was a simple ham and lettuce sandwich, a little mayo on the bread. you noticed he'd already torn a corner inch off as an offering and you smiled. "thanks." you smiled up at him.

you ate in relative silence. every couple minutes luke would say something as you chewed and you would respond brightly, half eaten sandwich shoved into your cheek with the distant memory of your grandmother chastising you for talking with food in your mouth. you finished your sandwich and suddenly luke stopped talking mid-sentence. you looked up at him with wide eyes, swallowed your last bite of food and opened your mouth to say something. you didn't know what you were going to say, any thought you had left was lost when you fully took in lukes expression, and so you closed your mouth again.

his eyes were wide and dark, the brown almost entirely swallowed by black, and his lips were slightly parted. his eyebrows were lifted in an almost shocked expression.

"what?" you asked. he sputtered a little.

"uh-" his hand flicked up like he was going to gesture and quickly retracted again back to his side. "you have-" he swallowed. "you have a little-" he did gesture this time, he pointed to your mouth. "you have a little mayo, just there." you felt the redness of a blush hit your face again.

"oh! oh!" you wiped the corner of your mouth, "is it gone?" luke laughed a little.

"no." you wiped the other side.

"is it gone now?" you turned your head slightly from side to side, your hair tickling your face where it shook a little, a smile tugging at your mouth. luke laughed again.

"no." you rolled your eyes.

"well could you help a little? I'll look like an idiot!" you faked being irate, your voice starting to rise with a faint giggle. luke's laughter started to die, and he reached out towards you.

you froze with a smile on your face, eyes wide. as his hand came closer, lukes own smile dropped completely and your eyes felt heavier and heavier with the intensity of his whole being directed at you. you closed them. you felt his fingers curl against your chin and his thumb grace the very corner of your mouth. your eyes snapped open. luke paused, a deer in headlights.

your eyes locked and it felt as though time stood still, a beat went past. two. three. lukes gaze flickered down to your lips and back up again, your heart rate picking up with it. luke mumbled something but you didn't catch it, you were too focused on him. his eyes. his hair. his mouth. his adams apple. his shoulders. everything about him made you feel exposed, more so when he began to move towards you.

luke leaned into you, hand still on your chin with his thumb having found its seemingly rightful place in the middle of your lower lip. he tugged it down a little. just enough to pull your lips apart from one another. his hand moved from your chin, sliding up your face. his palm rested on your cheek, his thumb sliding left to right on your cheekbone, his fingers spread along the side of your neck. you felt vulnerable. you felt small in lukes hand. you nuzzled your head a little further into him.

he leaned closer.

he swallowed as he entered your atmosphere, his path sure and strong, and he stopped suddenly an inch from your face. "is this okay?" he asked, now unsure of himself - it made you wonder if he thought the winters night kiss wasn't okay. you swallowed too and nodded.

"mhm, yeah-" you blinked repeatedly, too scared to close your eyes for too long in case you missed the sight of luke so close to your face, but his gaze was so intense that you couldnt quite keep your eyes open. you'd dreamt of this. literally dreamt of this, almost every day since that fateful night by the lake in late january. "yeah."

"I've never forgotten, you know." he was whispering now, searching your face for something. "I've not forgotten the night at the lake."

"the lake?" you whispered back. you kicked yourself. what was that? why had you asked that? you knew what he meant, but you wanted to know what he thought of it. of-

"the kiss." he cut off your thoughts, replaced your voice with his own. "I think about it sometimes." he stroked your cheek and then moved his hand toward the back of your head, spreading his hand out in your hair.

"you do?" your voice sounded small. he nodded slightly. "when?"

he smiled. "everyday. mainly at night." he swallowed. you followed suit. the sun felt so hot, or maybe the situation you were in - sat next to luke; thigh to thigh; foreheads almost touching; lips an inch away from each other; memories that normally only invaded your dreams or kept you in the shower too long coming to surface; memories of luke hovering above you with one hand on your hip, fingers slipped under the waistband of your pants, and the other clutching the blanket next to your head, his camp necklace swinging and landing on your throat - maybe that was what had you feeling hot under the collar.

it was that memory that made you surge forward and close the gap between you. lips meeting lips. his hands in your hair and cradling your face, yours snaking up from your side and beginning to ball his tshirt in a fist.

you felt hot all over, your heart rate raised, blood rushing in your ears for the second time today. you felt breathless and weak, his mouth moving gracefully and with precision. his hands dropped from your hair and you began to panic suddenly, starting to open your eyes, but they returned to your waist in a second and calmed you. luke pulled you impossibly closer and closer, not stopping until you got the hint and climbed onto his lap. you bracketed him to the stone step with your thighs, and he shifted in his seat to accommodate for the sudden height difference. his head tilted backwards so the connection between you didn't break. his hands stayed on your waist for a couple minutes, your right hand on his face and your left in his hair, before he moved them. he moved them down. he slid his hands into your back pockets and tugged.

he moved you closer to him once again, and your body rocked with the movement into him. your chest pushed into lukes, your hand tightened in his hair pulling a low whine out of his throat and you moaned with him. but that wasn't all you felt.

beside the stifling heat of the day, beside the feeling of yours and lukes quickening heartbeats mingling into one, beside the hands on your ass and the moan in your throat. you felt luke. you felt the one part of him you'd never felt or seen before, the part he always hid when you would accidentally walk in on him changing, tge part you would imagine touching - feeling - when the lakeside memories surfaced, and it pulled another moan from deep in your chest.

you felt him beneath you. he was hardening fast, thickening fast, and you moved to feel him again.

you moaned in tandem. luke breathed out your name, breaking the kiss.

"we should stop." you shook your head. you didn't want to stop. luke groaned in agreement.

"we-" he moved you again and contradicted his own words, you could feel him more now and it made you want him so much you could barely breathe. you moved from his lips, if he insisted on talking you should at least give him the space to do so, and moved to his neck instead. he groaned again. "we should really stop."

you broke away from his adams apple to crane your head back and look at him, mainly to see if he was serious but partly to just look at him. you enjoyed just looking at him. he didn't seem that serious.

"you really wanna stop?" you trail a hand from the back of his neck to front of him, tracing his clavicle with your fingertips and placing your hand on his chest. you didn't break eye contact with him. he just stared at you, his eyes looking a little drowsy, and nodded. you didn't believe him. "okay.

you went to lift off his lap, pushing on his chest for leverage, but his hands still in your back pockets made it hard for you to move from him.

luke pulled you back to him just as your toes touched the step below you. "don't move." he kissed you again.

you hands dug once again into the cloth of his shirt, and pulled you even further into him. luke broke the kiss again. "please don't move." he was almost begging now as he began to kiss down your throat - pleading words of "please stay" and "gods you're so good, just stay" in-between kisses to your neck and shoulders and face and lips and everywhere but where you wanted him at that moment, were making you feel dizzy with the sweet praise tumbling from lukes lips and the sinful feeling of him against you.

in the back of your mind you were thinking of the cabins, of where you could find a bed to continue this, of where luke could lay you down and use his mouth on you in more ways. but the forefront of your mind was full of luke himself. he was almost too much, the heat making things so much worse. so much more hyper-aware of every touch.

one hand had just snaked from behind you, just unzipped your shorts, fingers had just began to dip into the front of them over your underwear, when you heard voices.

you both stilled and looked at one another, you thought maybe you'd heard wrong.

you hadn't. you started to hear the distinct voices of campers coming toward the amphitheatre. "fuck." luke said, sounding what you thought was disappointed, though his hand remained so close.

"fuck." you agreed as the voices came closer.

"we should move now," luke whispered like he would be heard if he talked at full volume. "definitely."

"yeah." you breathed back.

neither of you moved.

his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again, and you felt yourself doing the same. he kissed you again as he removed his hand from your shorts and pulled the zipper back up, cupping your crotch when it reached the top and making you groan. you moved against him in retaliation.

you felt his cock pulse underneath you and luke moaned. loud and clear in the summer sun, and finally - reluctantly - pushed you gently off him.

you left his lap with ease and stood over him, for probably the first time in four years you towered over him, your hands still resting on his shoulders.

he looked up at you with wide shining eyes, his hair dishevelled and knotted, his hands on your hips. the voices got closer. luke stood.

he towered over you now, and looked down at you with an intensity that made you look away from his eyes. "hey," he said softly. "are you okay?"

you nodded, still not being able to look him in the eyes and staring instead at his camp beads. "you sure?"

you nodded again and mustered the courage to look at him properly. he looked concerned. you were fine, you felt more than fine, you felt alive. you could feel your heartbeat still hammering away in your chest, the hot air still making your hair stick to the back of your neck, your shorts feeling warmer than before. you felt like you were vibrating.

footsteps and voices had now reached the amphitheatre, it sounded like the ares cabin - you could hear clarisse arguing away with one of her brothers.

you smiled at luke, "I'm sure." and just to prove your point, you craned your neck and pulled luke down by his shoulders, kissing him quickly before pulling away again. you turned from him in a blink, and began marching your way up the steps to the top of the amphitheatre.

when you reached three steps above luke, you could see what was definitely the ares cabin venturing down the steps clad in armour with swords, spears, bows, and more weapons strapped to them. you turned back to luke - who was still stood there, looking slightly shell shocked - "are you coming or not?"

luke began to scramble up to you, tripping a little on his way. "shit!" he swore quickly. he looked at you and smiled sheepishly. you just laughed.

you both made your way back to camp, walking side by side and chatting as if nothing happened, deciding to go your separate ways with a promise to meet up for dinner.

you decided to shower, having been too warm for too long, and told luke in passing. "can I join?" he asked jokingly, beaming down at you with stars in his eyes.

you hit his chest with enough force to knock him backwards a little. "no!" you laughed. "you cannot join, you pervert!"

luke laughed too and caught his balance. "I'll just go back and be lonely then. It's fine." he turned to go to the hermes cabin. you knew he wouldn't be lonely. no one in the hermes cabin was ever lonely, there was too many of them in there.

"good." you said with a smile and disappeared into the apollo cabin.

#luke castellan #luke castellan hc #luke x reader #luke x apollo!reader #mdni #this is my first time writing luke!!#first time writing for anyone in a while!!#tell me if its shit!!#part 1?#maybe?#i have ideas

44 notes · View notes

dailydragon08 · 2 years ago

Text

A World Without Monsters Ch 2

Read chapter 1 here!

Pairing: Raleigh x Reader

Summary: During a post-kaiju war press tour, you and your copilot Raleigh finally grapple with the growing feelings you have for each other while also wrestling the world of reporters, politicians, and more who would manipulate the world's saviors for their own purposes.

Warnings: friends to lovers slow burn, mentions of depression and anxiety, PTSD, and trauma throughout multiple chapters.

A/N: Raleigh x Reader series about coming to terms with feelings during a post-movie events press tour, along with a series of flashbacks showing how you two met and become close while piloting Gipsy Danger. Sorry it took me so long to post this! Been dealing with some pretty serious health issues but am getting better! Hope you enjoy!

Read here on AO3.

December 2025

“A press tour?” you and Raleigh repeated at the same time—rather unenthusiastically.

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” Herc replied. Although the grim look on his face and crossed arms told you he was just about as thrilled as you were. The three of you sat in Pentecost’s old office, the thin strip of window that ran from floor to ceiling revealing the cold winter skies behind your new commanding officer. You still had trouble believing it was a kaiju-free world out there—a world without monsters at last. It was what everyone had wanted, worked towards for years…but, now that it was here, it was like everyone didn’t know what to do.

It had been two months since you’d closed the Breach and in that time, many of those at the Shatterdome had either returned to their families or moved on. About a quarter of the base still remained, you and Raleigh included.

“Do we really have to?” you asked. “I mean, how long is this press tour?”

“Six months,” Herc answered. “And the order came from the White House, so it would be foolish to refuse. They’ve decided to make the first stop Hong Kong to help ease you into it.”

“Okay…but what exactly does a press tour entail?” You looked to your copilot beside you, knowing from his memories that he and Yancy had done some press before he’d died, but nothing like what Herc was describing.

Herc shrugged. “Just…be interviewed, really. Go on talk shows, go to events, talk to different government officials, shake hands, get congratulations, talk to the little people. But since you two are the last two jaeger pilots left…people will probably be a bit crazier than they would’ve been years ago.”

Raleigh sighed and slumped back in his chair, running a hand down his face. You reached over and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He covered his hand with yours and squeezed back, meeting your eyes. You almost winced at the dark circles that had seemed to take up permanent residence on his face, but yours probably weren’t much better. He gave you a small smile. “Well, at least we’ll be doing it together.”

You smiled back at him, turning back to Herc as he added, “And the official governments of whatever country we’re in will be paying for your accommodations. So you’ll have some of the nicest hotel rooms they can offer, plus no water restrictions.”

“Soooo,” you paused, your hand still in Raleigh’s, “we can take long, hot showers?”

Herc chuckled. “As long as hot as you want. You’ll be pretty pampered from what I’ve heard. You two have earned it.”

“Will you or anyone else be coming with us?”

“I’m coming for support, but they’re more interested in you since you’re young and were part of the mission to close the Breach.” His eyes fell to your shoes, and you could tell he was thinking of Chuck. As much of an ass as he was, he was still part of the team and you couldn’t deny you missed him.

“We’ll be getting a schedule and new orders soon,” Herc continued. “I’ll let you know as soon as we get more information. We’ll be heading out in two weeks.”

“Will we stay in the Shatterdome for the Hong Kong part of the tour?” Raleigh asked, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. It was almost second nature for you both at this point to comfort each other however you could, mainly through touch. Not that you were complaining.

“No, they’ve got a hotel set up for you in the middle of the city. And…they want everyone to clear out of the Shatterdome soon.”

“What?” you asked, brows furrowing. “But they could revamp the jaeger program, maintain it in case it’s needed again. They can’t possibly think shutting it down again is a good idea after everything we all just sacrificed to keep it alive.” And the Shatterdome was your home now. Where would you go after the press tour?

“I don’t know what their plans are for it. No one has said anything about shutting down the jaeger program, but I’ll try to find out more. They might just want to repurpose the bunker and move the program to a new location, who knows.”

“Doubt it,” Raleigh mumbled. “They’re not known for their intelligence, evidently.”

Herc sighed. “Well, we’ve got our orders. Let’s just concentrate on getting through this without making too many waves.” He chewed on his lip for a moment, his eyes flickering to your and Raleigh’s linked hands. “Dismissed.”

You exchanged a glance with your copilot, sighing as you stood and made your way back to your room. You didn’t even realize you were still holding Raleigh’s hand until Newt’s “hey lovebirds” as he passed you in the hall.

August 2025

As the last of the flying sparks faded away, Raleigh’s smile took their place. It was fitting, since it felt like there were also sparks flying in your stomach whenever those blue eyes landed on you.

You lifted your visor to return his smile. “Hey! Looking for Gipsy?”

“Yep.” He’d changed from his torn sweater and worn-down jacket into military-issue cargo pants, boots, and a dark blue sweater that brought out his eyes. “And you mentioned you would be with Tendo? Is he here?”

“Ayyy, Becket boy!”

Raleigh’s face lit up enough to make rainy Hong Kong seem like paradise. They embraced before Tendo led Raleigh a few feet away to the railing overlooking Gipsy as she went through maintenance. You heard Raleigh mutter “so beautiful” reverently as he stared at her and couldn’t help but pretend he was talking about you. Stop it, you told yourself. You’re in the middle of a war for Christ’s sake.

You only half listened as Tendo rattled off all the improvements made to the jaeger before piping up at your name. “What?”

Tendo made his way over to his workstation with Raleigh trailing behind. He stopped next to you and smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. He seemed to know how to pull happiness from you with just a look.

“I was telling Raleigh how you’re one of our best,” Tendo said. “And a damn good pilot, too.”

Raleigh perked up. “Hey, I forgot to ask. Are you one of the candidates for my copilot?”

You nodded, feeling excited and also slightly sick at the prospect of Raleigh inside your head. You’d definitely have to get a handle on your thoughts beforehand—if he chose you. “It definitely took some nagging, but I did manage to convince Pentecost to add me to the roster.”

He beamed. “I look forward to it.”

You smiled in return. “Me, too.”

“So, um…” he hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Tendo’s a bit busy, but what about you? Do you want to get some lunch?”

“Tendo!” you called over your shoulder. “Will you survive if I go get lunch?”

“Knock yourself out,” he replied from where he was bent over a piece of machinery. “But not literally. Your hands are smaller than mine, so I’ll need you to help me with this piece later.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit, fat fingers.”

“Hey! They’re buff, not fat!”

You snorted, heading towards the workshop door with a laughing Raleigh in tow.

“So, you two seem like you get along well. Are you close?”

“I’d like to think so,” you answered as you slapped your visor and gloves down on the table near the door, muttering a shy thanks as Raleigh jumped ahead of you to hold the door. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he is pretty awesome. But he’d just let that go to his head.”

Raleigh smiled, looking around the bustling hallway on the way to the mess hall. You remembered how empty the Shatterdome was when you first arrived. You were one of the first people there with Pentecost and Herc, and the task of turning it into the bustling resistance base it was now seemed impossible. Now with Pentecost’s plan to seal the Breach, it felt like everything was finally coming together for the final attack in a way that made your stomach twist in anticipation. You could very well see the Breach up close soon—and may even die in an attempt to seal it. You resisted the urge to sigh, not wanting to worry Raleigh. Although his mind might have been wandering in the same direction.

You’d been lost in your thoughts and silent for some time during your walk, but he didn’t seem to mind. He threw another lopsided smile your way before jogging ahead of you several steps to hold the mess hall door open for you. You thanked him again, your stomach doing little somersaults at his manners. A good portion of the men on base either ignored you or were constantly trying to one up you, likely intimidated by your skillset. You’d gotten used to getting shoved around, whether it was an accident or some jealous peer trying to prove their superiority. Raleigh had none of that and in fact, seemed to even want to make sure you were taken care of, insisting you go ahead of him in line with your tray, offering to help you reach things, and even asking if you wanted help carrying your tray to one of the open tables. You’d heard stories about the nightmare he’d been through in losing his brother and it amazed you that he was still so sweet and protective, making you yearn for the spot next to him in Gipsy even more.

“So how are you adjusting to the Shatterdome?” you asked as you sat across from him. “Or is it pretty similar to the military bases you’ve been on?”

“Well,” he loaded his fork with an impressive amount of food from multiple sections of his tray. “It’s a lot busier, but that’s probably ’cause they’ve stuffed everyone into one base versus being scattered across several. But I was at the Wall before this and that was just as hectic, so I don’t mind.”

“Looks like there’s plenty of room at this table,” a familiar Australian accent said behind you.

You turned and returned Herc’s smile as he and Chuck headed towards you, trays in hand. “Max!” you cried.

The little bulldog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth happily as he broke into a run and jumped up on the bench next to you. You gave him a good scratch behind the ears as he leaned into you, laughing and pushing him away as he tried to lick at your tray.

Chuck slid into the bench next to you, giving you a nod in greeting as Herc settled next to Raleigh, introducing his copilot.

“He’s more my copilot,” Chuck replied, making you roll your eyes. “Right, Dad?”

Herc eyed him warily and you shook your head. Herc was always so sweet to his son who only ever gave him grief in return. While he’d never turned his ire on you, it didn’t mean you wanted to smack him any less.

The urge to smack became stronger and stronger as Chuck tried to intimidate Raleigh into a pissing competition. You’d seen plenty of pilots do it before—and many had even tried to start it with you—and some even ended with fists. Raleigh maintained his composure well, but you could see the fury building in his eyes, his body stiff and unforgiving. You made a mental note to never get on that side of him. You’d heard enough stories to know he could punt anyone into next week if he wanted to.

“Just make sure you keep up,” Chuck said as he stood and adjusted his baseball cap, “or I’ll drop you like a sack of kaiju shit. Come on, Max!”

Max looked at you and whined as you put another bite of food in your mouth. You sighed and threw a piece of chicken up in the air. Max barked happily before snapping it up in his jaws midair, his little butt wiggling in happiness.

“Max!” Chuck called again and Max went scampering after him.

“He’s a smart kid,” Herc said sadly. “I raised him on me own, but never quite knew whether to give him a hug or a kick in the ass.”

Raleigh paused, glancing at you before replying, “With respect, sir, I’m pretty sure which one he needs.”

Herc’s lips formed a thin line before he turned back to his food in silence. The air felt tense, but you couldn’t help noticing the giant salad Raleigh had created out of his veggies, mashed potatoes, bread, and chicken. You chuckled to yourself as you took a drink of your water.

Raleigh smiled, all his earlier menace disappearing the second he met your eyes. “What?”

“You’ve created a monstrosity on your plate.”

He laughed. “Hey, it’s all going to the same place. You should try it.”

“Tell that to my taste buds.”

“Aw, come on, it won’t hurt ya!” He reached over and dumped a forkful of your chicken into the mashed potatoes.

“Hey!” You shoved futilely at his hand while he took the other and spread some mashed potatoes on your bread like butter.

“There you go!”

“That looks disgusting,” you laughed.

Raleigh’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

You frowned in disgust, sticking out your tongue as he held your mashed potato-covered bread out to you.

“Don’t make me play airplane with your bread.”

Still frowning, but also trying not to laugh at how effortless your rapport felt, you slowly took the bread from him and took a bite. It wasn’t half bad, but you weren’t ready to let him know he won. “Plehhhh.”

“You liar, you like it!” he beamed triumphantly.

You scooped the chicken back out of your mashed potatoes and redeposited them in their section of the tray.

“Hey, that’s the best part!”

“Noooooo, you create as many monstrosities on your plate as you want, but leave mine alone.”

Herc chuckled. “How many kaiju guts have you helped the research team transport and this is what grosses you out?”

“Look at his plate, it’s practically its own kaiju!”

Raleigh laughed loud and bright, drawing the attention of several neighboring tables and you smiled, proud you’d been the one to draw that out of him. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other with dopey grins on your faces and you couldn’t help but admire how his eyes lit up. When you’d first entered the elevator, before he’d noticed you, he carried the weight of someone who had seen too many horrors. Now, you felt like you were catching a glimpse of the man he’d been before—the carefree Raleigh that had his brother to guard his back and bring joy into his life. You only hoped that if you were chosen as his copilot, you could do the same.

December 2025

“Pretty sure Hermann’s about to run up the wall ’cause of Newt’s—hey, what’s wrong?” you asked as your bedroom door shut behind you with a clang.

Raleigh sat on the bed wearing an unfamiliar black jacket, holding an identical one in his hands. His brow was furrowed and he clutched the clothing like it might evaporate if he wasn’t careful.

“…Rals?”

Raleigh looked up at you in shock and it took you a moment to realize you’d called him by the nickname Yancy had always used for him. You hadn’t meant to; it had leapt from your mouth unbidden and the wounded animal look in your copilot’s eyes made you wish you could take it back.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered so quietly, you weren’t even sure he’d heard you.

His attention returned to the jacket in his hands. He turned it and you could see Gipsy’s symbol in a large white design on the back. You remembered seeing flashes of Raleigh and Yancy wearing jackets just like it before Alaska. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I actually, um…” He stood, gently wrapping the jacket around your shoulders. “Here, put your arms through—oh, well, it sort of swallows you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a good swimmer.” You smiled, hoping to ease some of his pain.

He chuckled, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We can get it fitted. I thought they might be nice for the press tour—or just to have. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll wear it if you wear yours. We can match.”

He was quiet as his hands gently ran up and down your arms, sliding further down until his fingers were intertwined with yours. When he met your eyes again, you saw tears threatening to spill over.

You frowned. “Raleigh? Are you—”

“I, um,” he cleared his throat, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the bed, “need some air. I’ll be back.”

You watched for a moment as he rushed out of the room before something small and white on the inside of his jacket caught your eye. You picked it up to find his name stitched in white lettering on the inside corner. With a start, you checked your own jacket and your heart plummeted as you realized what had gotten him so emotional: there, on the inside of your own jacket, was the name “Yancy Becket.”

You immediately shucked your jacket off your shoulders, slinging it carefully over your arm before running out into the hallway. “Raleigh, wait!”

He turned halfway to the door at the end of the hall leading outside.

You held the jacket out to him. “I can’t take this.”

He gave you a watery smile, sniffling. “No, I want you to have it.”

“Rals, if anyone should have Yancy’s jacket, it’s you.”

He turned to face you fully and took the jacket from you. He stared at it for a moment before slinging it back around your shoulders, holding the lapels so you couldn’t remove it again. “It…” He licked his lips and closed his eyes for a moment before looking at you again. “It feels like this way…Yancy’s protecting you. You have no idea how much you’ve saved me, Y/N. It feels like you’re his way of cosmic apology and it just—it just feels right.”

Now it was your turn to get teary eyed. “Raleigh…”

He cupped your face in his hands, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs over your cheeks before leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead. You pushed your arms through the jacket sleeves and wrapped them around his middle. He pulled you against him, resting his cheek against your hair as he took a shuddery breath.

A wolf whistle behind you made you jump and you turned to see Tendo walking past. You laughed, Raleigh’s arms still securely around your shoulders as you felt him shake with his own laughter. Despite Raleigh’s sweetness and the comments and whistles you got from your peers, you couldn’t help but still feel insecure. You weren’t sure what you and Raleigh were anymore, really—definitely more than friends, but did he really want to be with you like a boyfriend or even a lover? You two had just saved the world and were just about to do a grueling press tour; he had enough on his mind. The connection between pilots was always special, wasn’t it? Maybe that was all it was.

Raleigh pulled you from your thoughts as his hands fell back down to his sides. “I’m going on a walk…do you wanna join me?”

You smile and nod before following him to the door. Your heart skipped a beat as he jogged the last few steps just so he could hold the door for you, ever the gentleman. As you exited into the cold winter air, you could feel his warm hand slip into yours.

Taglist: @that-girl-named-alex @wayward-avenging

#raleigh becket x reader #raleigh becket #pacific rim #pacific rim fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfiction #raleigh becket imagine #raleigh becket fanfiction #a world without monsters #my writing

142 notes · View notes

rosesnink · 2 months ago

Text

The Way To Rome, Chapter Two: New Routines

Author's Notes

After months being on a depression slump, here I am, back on my TWTR groove! Exams start tomorrow, but the muses were faster. Oh well!!!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

My OC's Choices sprite was made by the talented @peonyblossom all credits to them!!

If you'd like to be tagged on these series or in the It Lives stuff in general, send me an ask!

Summary: After Tallulah's anniversary, it's time for Faye to finally face college, but the forces of nature just don't seem to agree with her...

Word Count: 1.8k

Category: Angst, hurt-comfort, horror, nightmares, grief

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Lucas Thomas x F!OC (Yun Faye), mentions of Stacy Green x F!MC (Tallulah Hunter)

CW: This series will deal with themes of death, grief, horror, sexual themes and strong language, and other recurring themes of the It Lives Anthology, including the It Lives Project. Reader's discretion is advised.

Book: It Lives in the Woods

Beep beep. Beep beep.

Faye opened her eyes, sighing as her senses and body awakened. The fun was over, and it was time to prepare for the real challenge: college. Throwing back the covers, she got up and yawned as she scratched her head.

After going to the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she brushed her hair, did a simple makeup with some blush, a small eyeliner and lip gloss. Spraying her coconut perfume, she put her MacBook inside of her bag alongside her charger and went straight to the cafeteria for a good cheese bagel with its seasonings and a strong coffee. Faye had always been a morning person, she enjoyed how foggy and silent Westchester looked, the birds singing in the distance, the fresh air and how the sun wasn’t out yet, but it wasn’t dark either. A calming, comforting grey. Paying for the bagel and coffee, she started walking towards the campus. People were either groggy or already running, laughing, talking and simply living. Back in high school, people in Westchester would want your head for being so energetic. But that was the magic of college: it was not like high school.

Suddenly, woman with familiar blonde hair and blue eyes laughed with an equally redhead woman, both talking about something. She froze. No. It couldn’t be them. They were dead. They were both dead. She had seen them die.

She shook her head. Her brain was playing tricks on them. Jane hadn’t even been ten when she died, and she had buried Tallulah a year ago, and visited her grave a few weeks ago. Yet, she could feel their absence more than ever. Not when she had died. Not when Redfield killed them both. Not while watching her coffin be laid six feet down. Not during her anniversary. Today. Right here. Right now.

Her chest swelled, and her throat closed, her body going limp. Tears threatened to drop, and her body didn’t feel hers. She was sure she was about to collapse when a familiar pair of steady hands steadied her and embraced her “Easy,” it was Lucas, “it’s alright. I miss them too.”

She didn’t even remember why she was mad at him, or why she didn’t want to even breathe the same air as him. She simply laid on his chest and cried silently, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“Why them, Lucas?”

“I’m afraid we’ll never know, Faye.”

She sniffled, grabbing his napkin as she wiped her tears and took a few steady breaths. He stroked her back gently, drawing comforting ghosts on it, soothing her. She looked at him, and for the first time, didn’t see the man who broke her heart, or the one she fell for. He was tired, sad and full of regret, just like her. Two broken children bearing in their backs the pain of losing a piece of their past, someone they loved for so long, it just left a gaping hole in their hearts.

“Let me walk you to class.”

“Please.”

He walked her there, and even got her a good seat, and squeezed her arm “If you need someone to talk to, or just to cry with, my number hasn’t changed.”

She nodded, squeezing his shoulders before he left to his own class.

At first, it was hard to focus on class, but then she felt Tallulah a few feet away, encouraging to do so, and found strength in it. It was probably stupid, but grief was odd like that. And as long as one found comfort in that oddness, it was okay to lean on it for a bit.

After a long, emotionally exhausting day, she dragged herself to the room and closed the door, and opened her computer to start working when she saw a message of Stacy that read ‘vc me when u get back from class? Xx’ and decided that talking to her would be nice. They were very different people, but they understood each other very well, and had been on good terms during cheer.

The window opened to a red-eyed Stacy with run-down mascara and a weak lip, but nevertheless smiling at her with her familiar blue orbs “Hey, girl. Tough day, huh?”

Faye chuckled “We both felt the same despite being a few states apart, didn’t we?”

Stacy sighed “I don’t know about you, but I tried it with my first class, then had a whole meltdown and called Connor crying like crazy because… because it hurts, Faye.”

Tears threatened to spill them both “You think the same as all of us: it’s not fair.”

Stacy started crying “She should be here, Faye. In my bed, talking, cuddling, watching our annual rewatch of ‘You’ve Got Mail’, not six feet deep into the mud because of that rat’s delusions.”

Faye finally said it out loud “What was he thinking, that we’d perform the ritual and a grown Jane would come back, and we’d all eat cake and be merry?!”

“Right! Noah clearly did not think of anyone but his own desires. And Tallulah—,”

“Was too good to let him face the consequences of his actions. I told her, Stace, I told her a million times that her kind, golden heart would be the death of her!”

Faye realized what she said, and covered her mouth. Waiting for Stacy to blow up at her, she closed her eyes, but instead met a sigh “But that wouldn’t make her our Tallulah. My Tallulah was always so kind, gentle, brave and full of love and life…”

“I’m sorry, that was too far.”

“Maybe. But I think it’s time I accept that. Besides, I told her too, back when we were children, that the adult world was ‘full of meanies’ and it’d eat her alive.”

“Yet, that didn’t stop her from being kind and caring. I cannot see her as a cold-blooded murderer, no matter how much Noah deserves it.”

Stacy sniffled “If only he had learned from her instead of looking back, huh?”

Both stared into the distance, sniffling in silence and remembering Tallulah. The exchanged looks in the halls after that night, silently celebrating when she succeeded, watching her change her colors from pink, to blue, to red, to lilac. To think to herself how well it suited her, to hear her laugh or hum her quirky songs in the distance, telling Britney to screw off, watching her come late to class because a hungry cat wanted her to pet them, or because the petting session with Hilda had prolonged itself, or when she missed a day because she was sick, and how charged the air was in her absence.

Even if they didn’t talk, Lula was always there, lingering in a corner, and every time she felt the fear and guilt, she could always watch Tallulah from a distance, eating her spanakopita in peace as her headphones vibrated of how high the volume was.

“You know you’ll be deaf when you’re forty if you keep it up, right? Sooner, even.” A thirteen-year-old Faye told Tallulah. It had been the first time that they had talked properly since Jane died and both went into a depression and PTSD slump. Tallulah removed them and shrugged.

“The thrum comforts me. Having noise all around my ears does. Silence…”

“Reminds you of that night.”

Tallulah nodded, her black highlights based on Avril Lavigne now looking less bright. Faye squeezed her hand “I don’t like complete silence either, but not too much noise. That’s why I always put on some water noises. Reminds me of home, and I sleep easier without the nightmares.”

“…Do you see her? Lying there, eyes wide, looking at you for help?”

Faye nodded “And Redfield there, looming, smiling creepily as she dies.”

Tallulah took her hand and smiled at her “I’m glad I’m not alone in that.”

Faye hugged her tightly “Never, Lula.”

That had been the last time they had hugged one another. When they found each other last year, she was too hung up on her jealousy of Lucas that she lost her chance of reconnecting. She had her right there, and she had taken her for granted, all because of a boy who’d never love her back.

“Tallulah had always been there, now that I think about it,” she mused, breaking the silence “I could always find her in her spots every time I felt overwhelmed, but now…”

“Her absence feels as heavy as your whole body? Yeah. I looked for her, on the way back. To see her in the entry stairs, or the theater, or the back of the cafeteria, but then I remembered that this isn’t Westchester, and Lula’s gone. Forever.”

“Yeah…”

Knock knock.

Faye looked up to see her dormmates with something in their hands asking for her to come “I should go. But you take care, and shoot me a text if you need anything.”

“Okay. Tell Lucas I said hi.”

“I don’t—,” But she had already hung up.

She sighed, and looked at her dormmates: Silvia, from Massachusetts, Chandini, an exchange student from India and Sky, their non-binary dormmate from New Zealand.

“We saw that you were feeling down, and then heard that your friend passed away, so we decided to bake you cookies.”

“I baked them,” Chandini responded, and pointed at Silvia “you scrolled all through the Marshall case and Sky stood there like that one Robert Pattinson meme.”

Faye chuckled “They smell nice. Come in, tell me about yourselves.”

They talked for a while, exchanging tales of their homes and lives, and laughed at some oddities from professors of their majors and its students, and all was well until Connor texted her ‘turn on the tv rn!! news of noah dropped”. She frowned but went to the living room of the TV.

“As you were telling us, fugitive Noah Marshall, accused of killing fellow classmate Tallulah Hunter a year ago, has been seen in New York running away on a getaway car with an unknown man, allegedly stealing a worthy possession. The police are now looking for any witness who may have seen him or may have reached out to them. Here are the phone numbers to call if anyone spots him. Catching him is crucial, and the Oregon government offers 5,000$ of reward to whoever turns him in.”

Silvia placed a hand on her shoulder “How do you feel, Faye?”

“…If that rat even approaches this school, it’s on sight.”

She was back at the threshold of that cave. In there, Tallulah sat on the grass, her dress ripped to shreds, her hair messy and tears in her eyes, a haunted expression on her face. Faye ran to her, but a barrier seemed to stop her. Tallulah looked up “You left me, Faye. Again. Left me alone. Trapped, with it.”

“Who?! Talk to me, Lula!”

Then, Redfield appeared behind her. Slowly, the monster grabbed her neck and scalp, and Tallulah gasped. Faye screamed, trying to get through “No! Nooo! Not again! Leave her alone! Take me!”

But the monster had taken over her. It looked at her through those powerful blue eyes, void and lifeless. Then, it lunged at her. All Faye could do was scream.

#playchoices fanfiction #it lives anthology #it lives in the woods #mc: tallulah hunter #lucas thomas #oc: yun faye #stacy green #noah marshall #the way to rome #cw mature content #it lives fanfiction #cfwc fics of the week

4 notes · View notes

wireidol · 7 months ago

Text

part 1 of bloodspur. please ignore any grammar errors, i'll fix them accordingly.

warning for talks of feeling helpless and lost, and other things reminiscent of depression and other disorders

“Come on, Aspen! I’m good for it, I swear, just do me this one solid, please!” The man slumps and rests his face on a worn down mahogany table in front of his booth, cupping his hands around his tired expression and resting his head in his palms. The man in front of him scoffs and chuckles wearily to himself before placing his focus back on matter at hand, the beggar. “Nah, man. You've promised me the same thing for 8 months now. Either get your shit together, or beat it, got that?” When he received no answer other than a exasperated whimper from the other like he was on the verge of tears, he slammed his fist on the table and stood up. “Forget it, Angel. Find someone else to help you out." He concluded. His footsteps were loud as he made his exit, the bell at the front of the diner chimed as he finally left, and the vision of him walking away out of sight made Angel’s heart drop. “Screw you too, Aspen. Screw you too." He whispered. A tall woman with her hair in a bun and an 80s style waitress outfit walked towards his booth with two plates, one with eggs, bacon and two large pancakes, and the other with a cheese omelet and hashbrowns. “You're food, sir!" She said, placing them in front of the man. He just stares at the plate, a ever growing sickly feeling in his stomach churning like a swirling storm as his vision becomes less focused and blurs. He gulps and laughs awkwardly, “May I take this to go actually?" By the time he left the diner, which hadn't been that long a wait, it had started to rain. "Just my luck”, he thought, and he was right. Sure, he had an umbrella, but the slightest gust of wind nearly turned it inside out. He took a lighter from his pocket, old and worn, the design faded revealing the ivory white underneath. What was once a clear image of a beautiful painting was now an incoherent and tattered mess. Along with the lighter, he removed a box of Marlboros from his ripped jeans and lit it, shielding it with his hand, because God forbid it get blown out by the sudden rushing breeze. He hadn't been smoking for long, and he rarely smoked at all. At least, he thinks he does. He has moments where he blacks out and forgets what he's done, and often times, feels as if someone or something else was controlling him. Like separate personalities. Bohemian Rhapsody starts ringing out from an unknown location. He looks around, careful to hold onto his food in case he has to run. But his precautions were rendered unnecessary when he realized it was coming from his pocket. He looked at his ringing phone, panicking at the caller ID. “Mom! You've got to be kidding me!" He might as well answer it. "Circe Angel Lovell! Where are you?” She condemned. Her voice was like a snap back to reality amongst his raging emotions. “Mom, I'm just..." He had to pause to try and smother the urge to cry, when would he learn to be responsible, like a real adult. Here he was, smoking in the pouring rain, walking aimlessly around, like a lost dog, trying to find some semblance of idea how to comprehend how royally screwed he was. “Circe? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" She soothed. His attempt to hide his cries must have failed, as she audibly exclaimed at the sound of his sniffling. “Yeah.. Yeah, I know." These are the moments where he wished he had a strong will, a hope that he was better than this. If his life was a movie, it'd be a musical with no music, a sitcom with no humor, a horror movie with no killer. Utterly empty, devoid of emotion. He could've been something, yet he whirls through this useless dance to pretend as if he had a plan. Maybe it would be better if he just—oh. Circe is snapped from his train of thought when he reaches his destination. Home. But there was a poster on the door. He reaches for it, studying the typewriter-like font that seemed like a “We're Hiring” ad. “Do you want to help the world? Give back to the world that houses you? Come join B.O.O.O and make a difference!" He raised a confused eyebrow at the wording. Help the world how?

#♏︎ : echo. 🪶#part 1 of the first chapter cuz its long #𖤐 : bloodspur. 🪶#tw depressing thoughts #tw smoking mention #tw smoking

6 notes · View notes

louisfriend-ironsulfide · 2 years ago

Note

How about something a bit angsty? Maybe hannibal getting some ptsd flashbacks and clarice comforting him or even the other way around?

Or if you're in the mood for something fluffier, them getting a dog for the first time? I feel like clarice would be a huge dog person lol

Cute as hell, thank u! Originally I went with the angst but then halfway through I realised I was basically rewriting this fic that already exists. Go read it if you haven’t, it’s one of my favs and deals with his ptsd well.

I’m incapable of writing short one-shots btw, so apologies.

(Word count: 2508)

She sits before the fire and she stares- or some version of her stares, rather.

And though it is not Clarice Starling, as he is familiar with her, who stares at the fire on these low days, that isn’t to say he doesn’t know exactly what she thinks and feels.

Hannibal Lecter himself admittedly used to seek physical warmth when visions of his past became overbearing. He supposed their histories were similar in that way- both tinged with frost. Him, then, wailing in the cold snow as Mischa was dragged from him and Clarice, then, tiptoeing across icy grass as she fled desperately from the cries of the pleading lambs.

But, although he understood on a fundamental level why she chose to sit before the fire in still silence when she struggled with what he could only consider ptsd, he still found himself unable to help her and that hurt beyond all else.

He’d done his part in easing her struggle months ago- back whilst they��d still been staying on the Chesapeake; her trauma had been an unresolved, gaping wound back then and he’d stitched her right up, yet old wounds itched sometimes and no amount of tender attention could ease that itch when it came. One simply had to wait it out; like a causeless fever.

Hannibal Lecter hated waiting it out. Sometimes Clarice’s emotional slumps could last days- or even weeks. And during those times she could be as cold and withdrawn as the dark memories that ensnared her; she wouldn’t shy from his touch per se but she wouldn't welcome it either, and she’d turn from him in the night, leaving him feeling remarkably alone on his side of their vast bed.

He observed her closely, that evening. More closely than usual.

He was reclined on the far end of the couch in the drawing room, nursing a cold snifter of whiskey, as she sat on the rug at his feet and watched the flames dance lower and lower in tandem with the setting sun. Her eyes seemed to be glazed over. It was as if her very soul had retreated within her, leaving her body to act as a crude puppet in the meantime. And, though he had access to most of her own personal memory palace, he could not reach her when she wandered into the recesses of her mind during these times.

He had a theory, however.

It’d been forming for the last few days and the more he ruminated over it, the more plausible a cure it seemed. He was unable to help her during these periods of depression because she’d become desensitized to him. They lived a fairly solitary life, the two of them, and that was fine for the most part but it was variety that Hannibal Lecter realized Starling needed occasionally, and he was cursing himself for not realizing it sooner.

Before he’d found his way into her life, she’d kept her dark thoughts at bay by occupying herself with playing the role of the righteous hero. She helped people. She saved her lambs; lambs like Catherine Martin and Evalda Drumgo’s infant. As much as she occasionally enjoyed helping him, he was not a lamb and he did not suffice in calming those scarred parts of her psyche. And, although her wound had long healed and the urge to help people wasn’t as insistent within her, it was during times such as these that he realized she needed this release more than ever.

So he decided he’d do just that. He’d give her something to care for. Something smaller than herself; something that she didn’t feel was constantly analyzing her, as he often found himself subconsciously doing.

He stood up from the couch, suddenly, and his frown deepened when she didn’t so much as turn her head.

“Clarice.”

She blinked, but no more.

“I’m going out, mi amor. There’s something I need to collect. I’ll be back shortly.”

Short simple sentences. He feared anything longer wouldn’t reach her. She merely nodded once and he left her.

Hannibal Lecter chose their practical truck instead of the sleek mustang as he pulled out of the driveway, favoring its convenience in transporting cargo and also registering that the cargo he was planning on picking up would likely ruin their beautiful sportscar.

He wasn’t an animal man, particularly, but that wasn’t to say he disliked them. In fact, with the exception of Clarice, he would always favor the company of an animal over that of a human being.

He’d put off the idea of pets for some time, for the notion of cleaning up animal waste didn’t quite appeal to him and it seemed jarring in contrast to the fairly lavish lifestyle they were living, but Clarice needed somebody other than him to keep her company when her mental health took a dive.

And what better company than a dog?

It would be something new to occupy her. Some smaller being to care for to ease the frown lines between her brows when he was unable to. A dog wouldn’t be able to speak back or overcomplicate things in any way. It would be something for her to simply hold when she wished for comfort without the sticky complications of human emotion and communication.

Because, to his dismay, he couldn’t pretend to be able to fix any and all hardships she stumbled across. Something he’d learned quite recently and something he was realizing even more so as he shared his life with her was that people were, at times, utterly unreachable and unpredictable and trying to help Clarice when she was in these dark moods could occasionally be akin to digging around in a splinter and pushing it deeper. Even he, with his pure precision and infinite knowledge, could occasionally needle perhaps just a touch too much. So he’d get her something that could reach her. Something that wouldn’t burden her with complicated concepts such as language and complex emotions.

And she liked dogs a lot, apparently. She’d mentioned her brief time with Pilcher to him, before, and had spoken more about dogs than she had about the poor bug doctor himself. She’d never been able to have one herself because work took her away from home too much. Times had changed, of course.

Hannibal Lecter preferred cats, admittedly, but he’d make the sacrifice. Cats seemed far less work and he fondly recalled the barn cat he'd had as a child who had chased the mice out of the stable often. Cats appeared to enjoy wandering off and looking after themselves which he appreciated, but he’d endure the overzealous loyalty of a dog for her and her only.

He’d spotted one at the kennel some few weeks ago when the idea of buying Clarice a canine companion had first crossed his mind. If it was up to him, of course, he’d purchase from a reputable breeder but the entire purpose of taking this animal home was to nourish Clarice’s need to save something and she’d much prefer a kennel dog with some baggage attached to it, he was sure.

He parked outside and entered, exchanging a brief word with the woman at the front desk who instantly recognised him, for so few upper-class men entered the little kennel that resided on the outskirts of Buenos Aires.

He followed the kindly woman through to the back and was pleased to see the dog he’d had his eye on was yet unclaimed. It was a shiny golden lab, at least one years of age, and full of spirited energy despite its unfairly docked tail and the fact that it was notably underweight. Apparently the creature had been found wandering the streets, abandoned. It’d been checked for diseases; that he’d made sure of. All that was left was for him to take it home and feed the poor mutt enough to keep it happy and healthy. He was sure Clarice would be thrilled.

He paid the small fee, including a generous tip, and was then on his way.

There was a cage and a small assortment of necessary items such as food and bedding already stored in the back of the truck but the excitable creature simply would not stop yapping at his legs and so Hannibal eventually gave in and allowed it to settle on the passenger seat beside him.

He sat there for a moment, staring ruefully at the dog, breathing so heavily that its shiny chest heaved as its tongue lolled from between its chops and dripped saliva on his nice leather.

“Sit,” he said simply, testing it. The dog continued to bounce from paw to paw and beat at the door with its heavy tail. He frowned and tried again.

“Siéntate,” he tried.

The dog instantly planted its wagging behind down immediately and panted expectantly. Hannibal Lecter pursed his lips in satisfaction and then remembered the bag of treats he’d picked up, opening it and throwing one to the mutt. It caught it excitedly and then lay down on the seat to gnaw at the morsel of beef.

And with that, he started the truck and made his way home, wondering at which point he’d become the sort of person to buy a dog for his lover purely because she was feeling a little under the weather.

…

Clarice heard the familiar chug of their truck pulling up and winced, having felt remarkably guilty when Hannibal had up and left so suddenly just an hour ago. His tone had seemed clipped. She figured he was upset with her. It wasn’t the first time she’d found herself struggling with her own frustratingly damaged mind and he was often good at knowing what to do - namely, letting her be alone to work it out of her system - but she’d been out of sorts for longer this time and she couldn’t blame him for getting fed up with her.

She hadn’t moved from her nest on the carpet. She was a little tipsy, too. He’d left his glass of whisky unfinished and she’d saved him the trouble. She realized how pathetic she must’ve looked then and, with a small shudder like the final breath of a dying bird, she sat up and attempted to straighten herself out.

She stood, preparing to meet him when he came in the room so she could apologize for her poor disposition, but frowned when she heard something strange.

She’d heard the door close just down the hallway but it wasn’t one set of footsteps she could hear as she listened to him set down his bags and tuck the keys away. There was something else, too- a padding sound followed by strange clicks like something tapping on the wood of their flooring.

“Hannibal?” She called out; the first fully-formed word she’d spoken in days. Her throat was a little sore from disuse.

He didn’t reply but she did hear him approach, followed by that strange clicking.

Fear of the unknown gripped Clarice for a moment, then, and she braced herself as she watched the door to the drawing room open, unsure as to what he had with him and whether or not his patience with her had finally reached its end after so many happy months together.

And then her sudden trepidation left her as swiftly as it had come, as she was immediately accosted by a blur of calf-high golden fluff. She fell back onto the couch, still a little unstable in her poor state, and the ball of energy wasted no time in jumping up and lathering her face with its tongue, its short tail beating a frantic pattern against her legs as it climbed atop her in a frenzy of excitement.

“Oh my God.” Another few well-placed licks to the face. She managed to get her hands under herself and sat up with some effort, pushing the bounding animal off of her enough so that she could catch her breath and run her hands properly through the tangle of golden floss.

And then she looked up at Hannibal, who had entered the room and seemed immensely pleased with himself, watching the pair of them bond.

The little beast positively collapsed when she began to scratch under its ears and she hit a spot of satisfaction. It rolled onto its back, pale belly up and tongue lolling out like something from a cartoon. Starling felt tears spring in her eyes, unable to handle the wave of emotion that had befallen her.

“I thought you hated dogs,” was all she said- no thanks needed- for Hannibal could see all too clearly the glee that had seized her. Quite frankly, he was just glad she was talking to him at all. He’d missed the twang in her voice.

He smiled and came to rest carefully beside her, reaching out and joining her in petting the excitable puppy, although a little less enthusiastically. “I‘ve said no such thing,” he hummed. “Merely that I’m not overly keen on them. Hate is a strong word.”

Starling bit her lip, fending off tears as she looked back down and continued to scratch away. Now on its back, Clarice could see the puppy was male. “Does he have a name?”

“Not yet. I thought I’d leave that liberty up to you. He’s yours, after all.”

“You mean ours.”

A shake of the head. “No. Yours. I thought you could use a friend, Clarice. Somebody other than myself, that is.” A small smile, then. “I realize there are times that you need your own company, but I can’t have you aimlessly staring at the fire, hardly eating, for days on end.”

“Hannibal…”

“Of course, him being yours does mean you’ll have to clean up after him…”

She smiled ruefully, then- some of her usual light finding its way back into her face. “I expected no less.”

“He’s a kennel mutt. A little underweight, I’m sure you’ve noticed.” A slight tilt of the head. “He needs some love, Clarice. And what better person, hmm?”

His intention for the unexpected gift became clear, suddenly, and Starling felt her chest throb with a strong emotion for which she had no name. The panting dog was forgotten for a moment as she quickly closed the space on the couch and hugged him for the first time in days, which he received gladly- even as he felt a muffled sob wrack her body.

He held her tight, until their moment of peace was interrupted by the pup worming his cold, wet nose in between them; clearly the puppy felt left out. Hannibal Lecter resigned himself to the fact that their solitary life would now be shared by a third companion, although the bright grin on Clarice’s face as the beast clambered onto his lap to lick at her nose eased his crotchetiness.

“He’s gorgeous.” She fussed at him, still smiling. “So he has no name?”

“No, though I suggest you pick one soon so I have some sort of title by which to scold him.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Clarice shot him a look as she babied the pup, and then hummed thoughtfully. “What was that old horse you told me about? The one you had as a kid.”

Hannibal raised a brow, surprised at the niche memory. “Caesar?”

“Yeah, that was it.” She grinned down at the noble, wagging little ball of energy and seemed to preen as she addressed him. “Caesar.”

#clannibal #silence of the lambs #thomas harris #cheesy corny self indulgent bullshit #thanks for the req and the excuse to brainrot-post #I am a dog person to the grave

38 notes · View notes