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violetflowerswrites · 9 months ago

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I’ll Be Here

Summary: After a traumatic injury, your SWAT roommate turned boyfriend (?) Jim Street strives to take care of you, and meet all of your needs.

Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader

Disclaimer: Minor mentions of leg injury, meds, and recovery with wheelchair, casts, and crutches. Reader has a protective older sister. One scene of nightmares, mentions of trauma. Discussion of child abuse, drug use, drunkenness, in Street’s family history. Filthy Smut. Oral sex (female receiving). Consensual P in V sex. 18+ for explicit smut, and language

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: I felt like there needed to be one more epilogue / ending to this Street x Roommate fic series. It picks up directly after the ending of Part Two (Taking it Slow). I got a little caught up fleshing out her backstory and recovery journey, but there’s a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, and quite a bit of smut. I added some details from Season 4, Ep 2 as well. It’s a slower paced story than what I normally like, but I still had a fun hell of time writing it. Enjoy!

Part One Here - “Too Complicated”

Part Two Here - “Taking It Slow”

Masterlist Here

…

The click of the door makes the two of you startle, and quickly.

“Commander Hicks is gonna put you on armory duty for a week for pulling a stunt like that.”

“Hey, Tan.” Street smiles at his teammate’s lack of greeting. Classic Tan — a bit of hard-ass, but always means well. “Hicks already chewed my ear off on the phone earlier.”

“Figured. I just wanted to come down, see how my friend’s sister was doing. I already briefed her on what happened. She’s on her way back from a case up in Burbank.”

“Thank you, Victor.” You breathe out a sigh of relief.

Victor Tan was co-workers with your older sister back from his days in LAPD’s Hollywood Vice division. When you decided to move to LA, she figured you being roommates with a SWAT officer was the safest place you could be.

But the world is a dangerous place, even if you live with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT.

Victor looks you up and down, noticing that besides being a little pale, and having a massive cast on your leg, you don’t seem to be in pain.

Then, he notices the way that Street is standing— body turned to yours, hand hovering on the bedside protectively, as if he wanted to hold your hand at any given moment.

“Hold on, don’t tell me you two are a thing now.”

A hot flush creeps up your skin and you and Street immediately stumble over your responses.

“We were trying to take it slow—“

“and not make things too complicated…”

“but then this happened so…”

“We don't really know what we are, but I do know that I am so so grateful for you Victor. You and Street helped save my life.”

You end your rush of words with a watery smile, emotion cracking your voice.

Tan looks down sheepishly, immediately trying to be casual about it.

“Nah, Y/N. It was the tourniquet you made that probably saved your life. You gave us a big scare today, but I am glad to see you’re okay.”

“That makes 3 of us.”

A petite, fierce-looking female cop stands in the doorway of the hospital room, her hand sweeping back some stray hairs that fell out of her tight bun in her rush to get to you.

…

Your bad-ass cop sister stays over for a week while you recover, watching Street like a hawk. You’re so hopped up on pain-killers that you barely notice the tension between them.

Street on the other hand, feels like he’s being evaluated in some test he didn’t train for. He couldn’t take time off, so he’s eager to see you whenever he gets home. But most of the time, your sister is hovering over you, helping you adjust to moving around in the wheelchair, and making sure you are eating your meals and taking all your meds correctly.

One late evening while you’re supposed to be sleeping, you overhear your sister confront him.

“So. When were you gonna tell me you’re fucking my sister?”

Street spits out the beer he just took a sip of. He’s barely exchanged more than a few sentences to your sister, and that was when she helped you move in a few months ago.

“Uh…”

“I see the way you look at her. I’m pretty sure I warned you that this arrangement was solely to keep her safe while living in this neighborhood. Didn’t expect you guys to fuck so quickly.”

Damn. Your sister is known to be blunt, but this is next level. You remembered how she reacted when your dick-head of a college ex-boyfriend broke your heart. He was sorry to have ever known you after that.

“About that…” Street starts, but gets cut off with a raised palm in his face.

“Before you say anything, I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She hasn’t told me yet, but I know. She’s down bad for you, Street.”

You automatically pull your covers up in embarrassment, hearing your sister lay all your feelings out in the open like that. She’s right though, you’ve fallen hard for him and it’s not just because he saved your life a week ago.

It’s because he's an empathetic listener to your rants about work, LA traffic, anything.

It’s the way he notices the small things, like when you're stress baking, or when you have your shoulders hunched up in frustration at the kitchen counter.

It’s how he gently pries your closed off doors open, helping you heal from your past.

It’s how he loves you, in such a sweet, gentle way that only he can.

“So you have 2 days before I go back to Vice to show me that you can take care of her.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Well, I don’t want to, but we’re about to make a big drug bust and my team needs me. Y/N is strong. She can take care of herself, but I worry about her. Her surgery was intense, and it’s gonna be a long recovery. I was gonna have her live with me for a few months, but I don’t think she wants to be away from you.”

“Thank you.” Street lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He may be a big bad SWAT officer, but your 5 foot nothing of a cop sister scared the shit out of him.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

…

That weekend, you get the full princess treatment from Street. He helps train your upper body strength to be able to lift yourself on and off your wheelchair. He takes you to the park to get some sun, and makes sure the entire house is wheelchair friendly so you can move around independently. He rearranges the fridge and pantry so that your favorite foods are all easily reachable from your lower height. He even meal-preps some home-cooked lunches to have while you go back to work on Monday.

Working with your sister, he re-arranges his schedule so he can drive you to the office in the morning and your sister can take you home.

On Sunday evening, you read out a long string of dates as Street writes all your upcoming appointments on the fridge-calendar and your sister says which ones she can take you to, and which ones she needs Street to help drive you.

“Well…fuck.” Your sister swears, which only happens when she’s particularly exasperated.

”What? What’s wrong?” You look up from your laptop with your Google calendar open.

“Y/N, I didn’t wanna admit it, but you got a good one here.”

An ear-splitting grin spreads across Street’s face as he realizes what she means.

You obviously told your sister that you overheard Friday night’s conversation, and all of what’s been going on between you and Street…minus the mind-blowing sex.

“He passed?” You ask eagerly, hopeful stars in your eyes.

“He never had to pass anything in the first place, Y/N. If you chose him, that’s all the approval I needed to know. I trust you. I was just giving him a hard time, because I love you.”

You burst out laughing while Street spits out a flabbergasted “The hell did I try so hard for?!”

“That’s what big sisters are for. Y/N deserves all the princess treatment she can get. We put our lives on the line every day, but she doesn’t normally have to. She’s gonna need you, Street.”

Street places a reassuring hand on your sisters’ shoulder.

“I’ll be here.”

…

Street lives up his promise, taking care of you through some of the worst physical and emotional pain you’ve ever been in.

He’s there at your physical therapy appointments, making sure you’re practicing the exercises at home even when you just want to lie down from exhaustion.

He’s there holding your hand even though you squeeze him until his fingers go numb. It hurts him to see your face contort with unexpected pain when the meds wear off and you try putting some weight on your leg for the first time in weeks.

He’s there when the trauma sets in. He notices when you’re on the couch in the evenings, the TV on, but you’re not really watching. He holds you tightly while you wake up in the middle of night crying, reliving the moment you almost died.

He’s there through it all.

…

“How do you deal with it?”

You’re sitting upright in bed, the soft yellow glow of the bedside lamp warming the darkness of the middle of the night.

“Deal with what?”

Street’s sitting next to you, holding your hand while your sweat-soaked forehead leans against his shoulder, your racing heartbeat finally slowing down.

Your breath draws in and out in a steady rhythm as you calm yourself from your latest nightmare with his comforting presence.

Street ran into your room when he heard you. That’s been the third night in a row that you’ve woken up to the sound of your own screaming.

“Deal with trauma. Not the physical pain, but those horrible moments that just keep flashing before your eyes every time you close them.”

“Well, I’ve been dealing with trauma my whole life I guess.”

Street has already talked to you about growing up in the foster system, because his dad was a drunk. You knew that his mom was in jail for killing him, but Street didn’t go into details. You knew as much as he hated talking about his past, he hated talking about his complicated relationship with his mom even more.

“Last week, we were surveilling a house, trying to get someone for the CIA, and I saw a kid. A little boy, covered in bruises on his back porch. He looked so alone, and so scared.”

“What happened?”

“I got into it with Hondo a bit, almost compromised the mission because I wanted to get him out of that abusive home.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. But it brought back a lot of memories, and none of them good.”

It was your turn to comfort Street as you could hear his breath come in shudders as he thought back to his rough childhood.

“Have I ever told you that my earliest memory of kindergarten was my mom putting makeup on my chin to cover up my dad’s crappy weekend?”

“No.” The word comes out in a saddened whisper. “You’ve never told me that one before.”

“Well, it’s not something that comes up in casual conversation. And I’ve tried a lot of things to make sure I never have to mention those moments.”

“What kinds of things?”

Street lets out a wry chuckle.

“What haven’t I tried? Drugs, alcohol. Thrill seeking. Street racing. Driving way past the speed limit.”

“You still do that one.”

Street laughs genuinely now. “Yeah, but not where I’ll get caught by cops.”

“You are a cop!”

He chuckles again, but quiets down into contemplative silence.

“For many years, I just poured myself into my job. Climbing the ladder until I could make something of myself. Run away as far as I could from that childhood me. The one with the drunk dad, jailed mom. The helpless foster kid.”

“It didn’t help, did it?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then, how did you heal?”

Street looks down at you now, his heart breaking to see tears streaming down your face. He’s certain those are empathetic tears, tears for his hardships. His rough childhood. Pangs of guilt wash over him.

He doesn’t deserve your tears.

Then, he sees the way you’re looking at him. The way you’re holding him in a bone-crushing embrace. Well, as tightly as you could possibly hold all of his heavily-muscled torso.

So, he sucks in a grounding breath and reminds himself that you’re crying because you care about him. Because you love him.

And it’s okay to accept your love.

Street caresses your cheek with a strong hand, and thumbs off a few of your tears.

“I’m still healing. But when those moments come, I’ve learned that it helps to talk about it.”

All those late-night bike rides down the California coastline could never truly help him escape from his problems.

He thinks back to all the people in his life who’ve helped him open up. Who’ve confronted him on his bullshit and made him stop running away.

Hondo and Buck.

Chris, Deacon, Tan, and Luca.

Even his ex-girlfriend, Molly Hicks.

As much as he hates to admit it, putting his trauma out in the open was better than keeping it in.

Your hand in his starts trembling and that small movement pulls him out of his thoughts.

“What if I’m not ready to talk yet?” You choke, as if you could barely get the words out.

“Then I’ll be here waiting until you are.”

…

Weeks pass in a whirlwind of work, doctors’ appointments, and recovery exercises at home. Eventually, the nightmares subside, and you start seeing a therapist to help you work through the trauma.

You graduate from the wheelchair and giant full-length cast to a bootie on your calf and ankle. The hardwood floor is littered with little dents from the first few days you learned to hobble around on crutches, but you get the hang of it quickly.

Both Street and your sister feel much more at ease leaving you at home alone, knowing that you can take care of yourself more easily now.

Except today.

Because your idiot brain put the crutches by the bathroom door instead of next to the towel rack.

And here you are, butt-naked in the shower, the floor wet and a slipping hazard, and 6 feet away from independence.

Just as you debate bear-crawling across the cold tile to grab your crutches, you hear the front door open and close.

“Street!” You call out.

Heavy footsteps rush over to the bathroom and skid to a stop as Street quickly leans his head against the door and asks urgently, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine! I just left the crutches by the door and I can’t reach them. Can you help me get out of the shower?”

Street breathes out a sigh of relief. Ever since the accident, he finds himself panicking easily about any situation that has to do with you getting hurt.

“Of course. I’m coming in.”

You’ve managed to dry yourself off, wrap your body in a fluffy white towel, and sit on the edge of the tub.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Street how your damp hair clings to your skin, flushed from the hot water. Lavender-scented steam hits him in a rush as he opens the door, a familiar smell to him. You love lavender shampoo, soaps, lotions, candles, anything.

He scoops you up gently, trying not to think about the last time he carried you like this was when you were bloodied, unconscious, and barely alive.

A small moan draws him out of his head immediately.

Not a moan of pain.

A moan of lust.

What?

Street freezes and gently places you on the bathroom counter, carefully holding your injured leg against his hip.

His eyes dart across your flustered face as you realize just what kind of inadvertent sound escaped your lips as soon as you were in Street’s strong arms, and you inhaled the familiar leather of his bike jacket.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Street kisses you breathless and pulls your towel down, inhaling your damp skin and that damned lavender soap that is making him dizzy with lust.

Water drips from the ends of your hair down your body, and Street licks up the river trailing from your shoulder, down the swell of your breasts, all the way to your core.

He pulls you to the edge as he kneels down in front of you. Ever-conscious of your injury, he lifts your hurt leg onto his shoulder, which only serves to widen your thighs, giving him full access.

Your knuckles tighten against the counter and your moans bounce off the tiled walls the second he licks your dripping pussy.

Street is a master at oral and it’s been weeks since you’ve had the pleasure of being his pupil.

His tongue dives first into your center, stretching your hot, leaking core. Then his lips find your clit, sucking it in gently, until the nerve endings in the sensitive nub light your body up with pleasure.

Before you have a moment to recover, his fingers find your entrance and enter with ease. Your slick gushes out, dripping onto the towel as he thrusts two fingers in and out. His knuckles curl up, searching for the spongy spot that he knows will drive you absolutely wild.

Filthy sounds of wetness fill the bathroom as he eats you out and fingers your clenched center, once, twice, three times.

Before long, his moans mix with your own as you voice your pleasure, cumming on his face in moments.

“Keep going.”

Street freezes at the first words you’ve uttered since he kissed you. It was an impulse, a lack of self-control that got him to this point in the first place.

It was seeing you nearly naked, with that damned lavender filling his nostrils that drove him crazy.

But he was going to stop. It was enough to get you off.

”I’m not done yet, Street.” You demand arrogantly, and look pointedly at the hard erection pushing against his dark-blue jeans.

“But—“

“I’ll be fine. Just hold my leg up and fuck me.”

You pull him up by the collar of his leather jacket, and kiss him roughly, panting in his ear as you lick and suckle the skin of his cheek, his neck, the underside of his jaw.

It’s been too long since you’ve had his body, his touch, his cock. You crave him with a hunger you’ve never known before.

And now that you’ve had a taste, every cell in your being is vibrating with one simple word.

More.

Needing no other encouragement, Street strips off his jacket only for you to take it and pull it over your bare shoulders.

The sight of you, fully naked except for his jacket, makes him suck in a breath.

His eyes darken immediately and he can hear his heart beat in double time.

You make him go feral.

It takes no time at all for him to rid himself of his remaining clothing, and line himself up with your pink entrance.

“You’ll tell me if I’m hurting you?” Street asks, still hesitant, even as the pre-cum of his throbbing member mixes with your juices.

“Yes.” You affirm breathlessly, feeling the round tip of his hard cock start to breach your center.

“You’ll stop me if you can’t handle it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure about this, Y/N?”

“Yes! Street, fill me with your cock already!”

He blushes at your filthy words, feeling the heel of your good leg dig into the small of his back, trying to draw him into your waiting core.

You finally feel him push through the tight circle of your center. You’re especially tight, having not had sex since the accident over a month ago.

Street lets out a growl as he feels your pussy gripping him, struggling to push in deeper.

But instead of pain, you only feel pleasure.

“Fuck—! That feels incredible. Go deeper, Street. Please!” You beg him, desperate for more.

He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pulls you towards his pelvis. You can feel his cock thrust to the end, finally completely filling you with all of him.

You throw your arms around his waist, breathing heavily as the heady lavender steam only serves to make the two of you even more sex-drunk.

You hear Street suck in another deep breath before he pulls out, and slowly inches his way back into you, experimenting with how fast he should go.

How much you can handle.

But the slower pace feels heavenly to your hot, needy core. His cock stretches every part of you, pressing against your spongy center, all the way to your cervix as he thrusts down to the hilt once more.

”How’s that, Y/N? Does it hurt?” Street checks in with you again, a vein popping out of his neck as he strains to maintain his self-control. All his cock wants is to fuck you with total abandon, but he refuses to put himself first.

Your voice comes out in a stream of incoherent whimpers as you wordlessly express just how good it feels to be filled by him.

So Street cups the back of your ass, and presses you flush against him, and you cry out, feeling him impossibly deep inside.

“Oh my god! Street!”

“I’m just getting started.” He grins, licking the side of your neck as he starts to roll his hips into you.

You feel his cock slip out just a few inches only to thrust back in as far as it can go, over and over.

As you look down, you are blessed with the magnificent sight of Street’s abs clenching with every sensual roll of his body against yours.

Every slight motion pushes you to the brink of orgasm, your body almost unable to handle all the stimulation after having only known pain and discomfort for the past several weeks.

Impulsively, you bite down on Street’s shoulder, trying to expend all the pleasure you’re feeling somewhere else, muffling your moans against his muscled flesh.

“Shit! Are you biting me?” Street growls, incredulous, but also massively turned on.

“Does it hurt?” You grin mischievously, pulling his lower lip in between your teeth next.

“Yeah.”

“A good hurt, or bad hurt?”

“Good.” Another sharp inhale. “Fuck, I’m already close!”

Street’s body shudders as you feel his grip slide back to your hips, his slow thrusts giving way to a faster, more desperate rhythm.

You nibble and nip the side of his neck, the bottom of his ear, as you feel just how hot his skin is under your tongue and lips.

Another loud moan is wrenched from your throat as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. His cock satisfies your body in a way you can’t describe.

You can’t wait any longer.

“Cum for me.” You whisper into his ear, demanding his obedience. His brow furrows as he tries to delay his incoming orgasm, and you kiss it, giggling as you watch him come undone by your body.

Street pushes his cock into you, your wetness making the movement easy, but your tightness gripping him like he is never supposed to separate from you again.

You lock your fingers behind the small of his back, pulling him in and clenching down until you feel his cock spurt out jets of hot cum into your core.

Street grits his teeth and heaves out the sexiest, most overstimulated moan you’ve ever heard from any man.

Your own orgasm follows right behind his, your entire being vibrating with pleasure, wetness repeatedly gushing around his cock. Your pussy stutters, muscles spasming as it tries to recover from the best sex you’ve ever had, with the biggest cock you’ve ever had.

With the most loving, caring man you’ve ever had. Your heart fills with love and contentment at the moment the two of you just shared.

This is what sex should be like - intimacy, pleasure, love.

It is truly something else.

“Y/N?” Street murmurs against your damp shoulder, slowly regaining some semblance of control and coherent thoughts.

“Mmm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“I never want to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You find the rough skin of his jaw and pry him off your body, and instead, pull his face towards you, your forehead pressing against his. As you lock eyes with the emotional gaze of your lover, you notice that he’s a little teary, and your heart melts for him even more. Jim Street. The love of your life.

“I know.”

…

#jim street x reader #Jim Street #swat #swat fic #swat smut #swat cbs #cbs swat #jim street fic #Jim street smut #jim street imagine #street x reader

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whumpsday · 9 months ago

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Kane & Jim AU: Mermay Special

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: mer/vampire whumper, mer/vampire whumpee, whumper-turned-whumpee, dehydration, claustrophobia, starvation, torture, brief death wish, recovery, caretaking

have something special for mermay :) inspired by this fanart my friend lostie drew 2 years ago!!

It hadn’t rained in a week, Jim’s freshwater had run out the day before, and he was going to die.

He knew he was going to die. Kane would come back to feed, and his body wouldn’t be able to hold up anymore, and he would die. Either with Kane’s jaws clamped around him, or later, alone in the damp cold sand.

He wasn’t thirsty enough to be desperate yet, not desperate enough to drink the abundant saltwater taunting him from his prison’s little beach. He knew it would only make him die faster. It was poison.

It hardly mattered at this point. Months with no rescue likely meant no rescue at all, and this was hardly a life. Still, something cried out in him, wanting to live.

Jim scrambled against the rock as he saw that telltale fin start to poke out of the water, more and more until the vampire revealed himself in full, the head and torso of a man and the tail-end of a shark. Not that there was anywhere for Jim to use his worthless legs to run to.

“Food.” Kane slung half a seal onto the surface, raw yet unbloodied.

Jim cautiously crept forward. “I need water.”

Kane raised an eyebrow at him, then splashed him, leaving him soaked.

“Fresh water,” he pressed, pointing up to the clear sky. “Rainwater. I need it or I’ll die. Please, just take me back to the beach, any beach where there’s humans. I won’t be any use to you dead. You’re not some animal, you know this isn’t right, please!”

“Human mine,” Kane dismissed firmly.

Jim sobbed drily. “I can’t. I can’t. You’re going to kill me.”

“Eat.” Kane shoved the meat toward him, making him flinch back. “Then I eat.”

Jim looked to the sky, Kane’s hungry eyes never leaving him as he devoured the vampire’s leftovers. If it didn’t rain tomorrow, he wouldn’t make it another day.

“Human.” Kane gestured him forward as soon as he finished.

“No, no, I don’t want to!” Jim backed up to the rock again, even knowing it was useless.

Kane huffed, climbing up onto the sand. “Food,” he called him now, a warning tone to his voice, piercing red eyes growing angry.

“Stop,” Jim insisted, squeezing his eyes shut. “No!”

A clawed hand grabbed his leg, any attempt to kick him away futile. He couldn’t match a vampire’s strength on his best day, and this was not his best day.

He cried out as sharp teeth dug into flesh once again, feeling much like the seal in his stomach.

Kane whined softly, squirming against the glass.

The fishers had put him in a smaller tank again. He couldn’t be sure–though he learned more of their language every awful day, there were still gaps–but he was near-certain it was a game to them, at this point, how small of a space they could force him to live in. He didn’t need to know their language to see their smirks.

He hadn’t even meant to break the last one. He had been trying so hard this time, and he’d been asleep when it happened. Even so, the fishers left him gasping on the floor in a pile of broken glass for hours. Even the tiny tank was better than none at all. How far he’d fallen, that he could consider this lucky.

Kane wished he could go back to complaining about not having room to swim. He would do anything to go back to the first tank. This one hardly afforded him room to move, to breathe. No matter how he tried to position himself, he always ended up touching the walls, his tail bunched up uncomfortably.

The water was too salty, burning his gills with every breath. He didn’t dare complain about that again. Last time, they left him in that horrible freshwater humans love so much until he screamed and bled to the point where any other fish would die.

But he was a vampire, and there was no driftwood here.

Every time a fisher walked past, Kane tensed. Some carried cruel metal tools, meant for fish already dead, though he’d already known their sting far more than he’d like. Some carried cruel metal tools and looked at him, making him wish he had anywhere to hide.

“Comfy?” a fisher mocked, tapping the glass with the end of his fishing stick, the unavoidable vibrations reverberating wherever he touched it.

Kane shook his head, hoping the answer was acceptable.

“Good. �̴̢̛̙̃̎̀̏͌�̶͙̪̉̃̐͋̈̈́̉͝�̵̛̹̪̳̾́̏̂̏̊͊�̴̤̬͖͖̬̹̣̏�̴̧̹͓͒̋͝�̸͎̝̂̅͋�̴̧͚͍̼̠͌�̵̤̜̻̦̬̄͒̏̃ little display case, leech. �̸͖̞̩̳̒̿͐̚͝ͅ�̴̢̫̺̟̺̬̯͔̋̄�̶̧̺̯͚̳͎͉̆͆̀̉̍�̵͚͈͛̌̑̚�̷̰͝͝�̴̢̡̯̗̖̥̈��̑̄̅̃̀̎̕ feed you this week.”

He perked up at the mention of food, whining louder this time.

The fisher laughed, flicking one of those foul little ash-and-paper cylinders into his tank. “Eat it.”

It would make him sick, but far worse would come of disobeying orders. Maybe the fisher would allow him some food if he obeyed. Kane wriggled until he could position himself enough to reach the bottom of the tank, scooped it up, and swallowed it down.

Another fisher joined him, saying something he couldn’t understand and nodding at his tank before approaching.

Nothing good ever happened when he was taken from his tank.

“No, no, no!” he wailed as his head breached the surface, his salt-lined gills burning all the more against unforgiving air.

Jim didn’t go to the beach anymore.

After months stranded and years after living in fear, he never thought he’d get even ten miles near a coastline. Not even twenty. Yet here he was, getting within two, just to see the damn vampire. Just to confirm it’s him.

The scars on his arms and legs floated the vague line between hurt and not, leaving him unsure if it was in his head.

The smell of distant saltwater made him want to vomit.

Jim greeted the fishers in a daze, letting them lead him to the vampire that might be his.

And there he was.

Kane looked worse for wear. He was littered with more scars than Jim was, trapped in a tank barely wider than his body, and even his body looked near-emaciated. His wide eyes locked onto Jim with sudden, harsh terror, and he squirmed as if to try to get away.

“Why’s he… in there?” he asked dumbly.

“Gotta keep a vampire reeeal secure, you of all people know you can’t trust the fuckers. Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile. Can’t move around, don’t have the energy to fight, knows it’s got hurt coming if it tries, that’s the safe way to keep ‘em,” the fisher explained.

Jim couldn’t look him in the eyes after that, so he looked at the tank instead.

“Kane?”

Kane whimpered, pressed against the back of the tank, though that only left him what looked like a couple inches away from the front of it. Jim felt claustrophobic just looking at it.

“So?” the fisher prompted.

“This is him.” Jim took a step forward, hesitantly pressing a hand to the glass. He was really here, powerless to hurt him again.

But Kane was hurt, and terrified, and trapped somewhere small and uncomfortable. There was no way he could leave him here.

“Do you think… I could take him?”

Every day, humans came to the aquarium in droves. As an unending mercy, Kane’s tank here was large, with ample places to hide. He never came out while the humans were visiting.

No one hurt him at the aquarium. He always had enough to eat at the aquarium. The workers always smiled at him when he surfaced for his meals. Not the malicious smiles of the fishers, but real ones, like they were friends. They talked to him like he was a person, and he was getting better at talking back, and they didn’t even get mad at him when he wouldn’t come out for the guests. Bellamy slipped him an extra fish and told him he deserved it for being a trooper. He didn’t know what a trooper was, but it sounded good when he said it.

Maybe he would start showing himself, one day, just to make them happy. Maybe if it ever stopped being scary.

As it stood, there was only one guest Kane would leave his hidey-hole for. Thankfully, they allowed him to come just after closing, away from the crowds.

“Hey,” Jim greeted. “Just came to, uh, check up on you. Make sure you’re still doing alright.”

Kane couldn’t speak underwater, and Jim was nowhere close to the top of the roomy tank, so he nodded. He looked at his hand, trying to remember the sign for a second, before making a ‘thumbs-up’.

“You’re okay? You’re happy? No one’s hurting you? They’re feeding you good? Helping you with medical stuff?” Jim asked.

Kane nodded again, smiling this time. He tried not to show his teeth.

Jim sat by the tank. “That’s good. I’m happy for you, man. You know how long ‘til the doc clears you to go home?”

It wouldn’t be long, now. He was gaining the weight back, his injuries had healed, and the exercises he’d been given were helping him learn to swim normally again. Soon, he would be able to survive in the ocean, just like before any of this nightmare had ever happened.

Bellamy said they could do a program together, if he wanted, where guests would come to learn about vampires and ask him questions. He said Kane didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, but winked and promised him some of his blood if he gave it a try.

No fisher could catch him again if he stayed at the aquarium. People would protect him at the aquarium.

Kane shrugged, not sure he would ever leave.

sorry all i can write are AUs lol <3 they're warming me up for the main series i prommy

taglist in reblogs!

#kane and jim au #whump #mer whumper #mer whumpee #vampire whumpee #vampire whumper #vampire whump #mer whump #whumper turned whumpee #dehydration #claustrophobia

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ladykailitha · 4 months ago

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Around the World Part 1

Welcome to the sequel, but not the epilogue! It a bit confusing and I'm sorry. Essentially this story takes place before the sobriety celebration in the last chapter of Icarus. Which I would absolutely read first if you haven't yet. It's 25 chapters of Steddie on tour.

The epilogue takes place SIX years AFTER Gareth's celebration. And is only two chapters. It is an unmasking of The Fallen. I wrote when I was trying to flesh out Shane, Spence, and Simon.

Summary: After a grueling tour, Steve wants nothing more than take a vacation with his boyfriend and just be regular people for three months. Only Eddie isn't just anyone, he's the frontman for the world's most popular heavy metal band. So Chrissy and Robin come long to act as beards (provided they keep their hands off of each other long enough). Join the fruity four as they travel the world looking for the spooky, the kooky, and the all together weird.

The tour was finally over and Steve was ready to collapse. He couldn’t wait to be himself again.

It would be two weeks with Jim Hopper and the rest of his band to deprogram them from their alter egos then a three month trip with Robin and Eddie.

Everyone else had made plans too. Spence and Nadia were going to see a few of the national parks. They were going to start with the ones in California and then go from there. They were planning on making it a yearly thing, if they lasted that long.

His friends really hoped they did. One of them needed a healthy relationship that wasn’t kept in the shadows.

Steve showed up first and waited for his bandmates to trickle in. Shane arrived first. With coffee for all six of them. Robin and Hopper included. Steve gratefully took his syrupy sweet iced coffee with a grateful smile.

Shane was doing better too. He had started therapy too after talking with Gareth about his. Gareth had told him that it was better to start when the cracks were beginning to show, then after the damn had burst. And Shane had really taken that to heart.

Him and Gareth were taking a vacation together later in the summer. To places where drinking and partying wasn’t the only way to have fun. Both their therapists recommended it, to have a friend with them who was going through a similar journey to help keep them on the path to recovery.

Simon came in next. He gratefully took his black coffee with two sugars from Shane and flopped on the sofa next to Steve. He was the only one of them that didn’t have plans. But privately Steve thought that was a good thing. He needed to learn to be more independent and not rely on other members of the band so much.

Then it was Robin and Hopper together, they were talking about business things that made Steve’s head spin. He knew it was a necessary part of what they did, but he was glad he someone else to do it for him.

They each took their coffees from Shane with grateful mumbles and sat down in each the arm chairs.

Spence arrived last and looking rather harried.

“If I see one more out of state driver thinking that they know how to drive on the instate better than Californians I might actually commit murder.”

Shane held up a white Americano and Spence broke down into tears. “I love you, man!”

Spence gave him a huge hug and Shane just patted his back awkwardly. Once Spence stopped crying he went to go sit on the sofa with Steve and Simon.

“Sorry about that,” he said with a sniff. “It’s just been a horrific morning and the sweet smell of coffee was like balm on my soul.”

Steve was about to ask what was wrong, when Hopper cleared his throat. “All right, everyone. I’ve made everyone videos that I want all you of you to study for the next couple of hours and then we’ll slowly work on deprogramming all of you.”

They buckled down and got to work. Steve kept an eye on Spence though. And when they both got a break he pulled his drummer aside.

“Hey, bud,” Steve asked soothingly, “what’s wrong?”

Spence ran his fingers through his long curls and sighed. “Nadia has to go back to India for a few months because her grandfather is dying. Only she’s not sure how long it will be so most likely the vacation is off.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “And you’re not going with her, why?”

Spence raised his head and blinked back at him. “What?”

“You’re a multi-millionaire, dude,” Steve pointed out, “you could go with her to India. Meet her family, enjoy and learn a whole new country and culture.”

Spence’s eyes went wide. “I–I didn’t think of that...” he made a dive for his phone but Hopper was faster.

“It can wait until you’re done for today,” he growled. “You have a lot to do before you can contact people in your life.”

Spence blushed a dark red.

“Holy fucking hell, Spencer Peters,” Hopper snapped. “I told you not go see her. And ya did it anyway.”

“I figured I was okay,” Spence muttered. “After all I don’t talk as Azrael.”

Hopper smacked the back of his head. “Yeah and how did you explain your rough voice?”

“Traveler’s cough?” Spence said with a wince and a shrug.

Hopper squeezed the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb and sighed. “Don’t do that again, yes?”

Spence nodded, wide eyed.

Things progressed naturally from there. Every day, them becoming more like themselves and less like two separate people.

On the last day of “training” Robin came bouncing up to Steve.

“So...” she said nervously, “Vickie wants us to take a fourth on our vacation so it doesn’t look like I’m chaperoning you. Preferably another woman.”

Steve sighed.

He really should have seen that coming. Even though Robin/Celeste are known homosexuals, having another woman there would dispel the rumors that Eddie and Steve were dating.

“It would have to be someone straight,” he said, resigned.

“Would another chaotic bisexual work?” Robin asked chewing nervously on her lower lip.

“Chrissy.”

Robin grinned. “Yeah. It’ll be awesome because like me she was friends with the band before she became their manager so her and Eddie are really close, like you and me and with her with us, you ‘dating’ a manager isn’t as gold digger-esque as dating a international rockstar. Plus, she really likes the spooky and supernatural stuff too, so she wouldn’t be a killjoy about it–”

Steve grabbed her by the shoulders and said firmly, “Breathe.”

Robin took a massive inhale and gulped.

“I don’t mind Chrissy coming along,” he said with a wry smile, “but are you sure you don’t just want her along because you have a crush on her?”

She opened her mouth to refute it, but Steve raised an eyebrow and she slammed her mouth shut.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly. “Just know you cannot do anything even remotely couple-y with her otherwise that will completely counter the whole reason she’s there in the first place.”

Robin raised her hands in surrender. “I promise to keep my hands to myself until we get home.”

“Then of course she can come.”

“Yay!” Robin cried jumping up and down.

Steve was packing for his trip and was starting to worry that maybe this was a bad idea. He hadn’t thought about how it would look with him spending so much money on clothes and accommodation. Travel and food made sense on a PA’s salary, but staying in the places that Eddie would want to stay in without being labeled a gold digger was starting to weigh on his mind.

Which is of course when Eddie came to his rescue without him even needing to say a word.

The man in question came bounding into his room, him long since having had a key to the place, even well before he knew Steve was Abbadon. It was just now, he also had the biolock to Steve’s studio, too.

“Baby,” Eddie said giddily. “I found these haunted bed and breakfast places we can stay in on trip. With motels on standby in case they really are haunted. What do you think?”

Eddie let out a startled squawk when Steve tackled him onto the bed and completely ravished him.

When they were lying in bed afterward Eddie asked what that was about.

“Like, I loved the welcome,” he hedged. “But damn sweetheart, what did I do to deserve that in particular?”

Steve blushed and tucked his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “I was worried about it looking like I have too munch money for a PA or looking like a gold digger, then you come in with a plan of small bed and breakfasts and motels and I honestly couldn’t love you more in that moment.”

Eddie blinked for a moment as he took that in.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “you’ve gone on more lavish vacations with me before, what’s all the worry for now?”

“It’s just after the tour and the press accusing me of riding on your coattails and only being your friend for your money...”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie cooed, pulling Steve in impossibly closer. “I’d forgotten about that bullshit. Of course you’d be worried about that.”

“And then you came barreling into my intrusive thoughts,” Steve huffed in faux annoyance, “and just by being your sweet lovable self, scared off all my doubts and worries. Which is why I absolutely could not keep my hands off of you.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I approve.”

Steve giggled and rolled on top of him to shower him with kisses. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” Eddie murmured. “So the B&Bs are a hit?”

Steve sat up, straddling his hips. “Yeah, Eddie, it’s a hit. It’s perfect and low key. Most of those places wouldn’t even recognize you.” He paused for a moment. “Wait... that’s why you picked it isn’t?”

Eddie blushed and shoved a lock of hair in front of his face, nodding shyly.

Steve started kissing him again and again. “I think it’s a perfect idea, honey. I love that you thought of everything. Now we can absolutely go and everyone can have a good time. Thanks to you.”

“I want to take all the credit for be smart,” Eddie said bashfully, “but I was just going for as much fun and as silly as possible.”

Steve kissed him fiercely. “Well, still take credit, babe, because you cinched it for everyone.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said, then he grabbed Steve waist and flipped them over. “For being so sweet, I think it’s time I repaid you.” He slid down Steve’s body, hands roaming over sensitive skin the further down he went.

Steve let out a gasp as Eddie’s mouth enveloped around his dick. It would be sometime before either of them got out of bed.

The day of their departure came and all their bandmates came out to see them off. Simon had decided to take a wine tour of Italy and France to brush up on his language skills. An endeavor Robin heartily endorsed.

Steve secretly hoped that he would find a nice European woman to settle down with and get married. He could bring her back to LA so that it didn’t break up the band, but...

Yeah, he knew it was pipe dream. Simon still got too far into his head especially with his anxiety.

They hugged and kissed everyone goodbye and started their journey of all things, spooky, kooky, and the bizarre at Alcatraz Prison.

The long white corridors and echoing chambers was exactly what they wanted in a place they visited.

They all listened with rapt attention as their tour guide went on about the notorious prisoners and the daring escape that to that day was still unsolved. They even talked about how the Mythbusters had proven that they could have survived.

That night in their first haunted bed and breakfast, they pulled up the episode on Chrissy’s laptop and they all huddled around it to watch.

Then the girls went into one room and Eddie and Steve went into the other. They probably could have afforded to have all of them having their own room, but Eddie and Steve wanted the privacy. The one place they could act couple-y.

“Just think!” Eddie said excitedly. “All the mobsters that were interned there. Machine Gun Kelly! Al Capone! Fucking Al Capone! Whitey Bulger!”

Steve nodded. “And that famous escape from the Anglin Brothers and Frank Morris! God, that place was creepy as hell though.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “If that’s what solitary is like it should be against the law. What the honest fuck.”

“Just don’t commit any murders and I think we should be okay,” Steve assured him, rubbing his arm gently.

Eddie cocked his head to the side and put his finger to his lips thoughtfully. “No promises!”

Steve laughed and tackled his boyfriend to the bed. “God I love you.” He kissed Eddie deeply. “How quiet do you think you can be?”

“Right...” Eddie snorted, “like I’m the loud one, Mr. Screamer.” He casually flipped the two of them over, Steve giving a surprised yelp. “Do you think you can be quiet or do you think we need to gag you?”

Steve’s eyes went wide and his jaw went slack. He never thought he’d like the idea of a gag, but with Eddie, he was learning all sorts of new things about himself.

“Ooh...” Eddie said with a grin. “Someone just bluescreened over that suggestion.” Steve could only nodded. “You stay right there, pumpkin, let me go find something to gag you with.”

Steve nodded again, even more enthusiastically then before. He watched eagerly as Eddie went digging through their luggage, hoping he found something quickly.

“Ah ha!” Eddie cried, holding up his prize. It was a blank bandanna with white skulls on it. “This’ll do!”

He came bounding back up the bed and tied it over Steve’s mouth. “Now you just lie there, princess. I’m going to take good care of you tonight.”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

I was going to start from scratch (meaning just putting my permanent list down and have ten new people request to be tagged), but there are a couple from my permanent list that aren't on the list for this one, and as I really don't want to have to go line by line (I will fuck up and do it wrong), I'm just keeping the list from Icarus across the trilogy, sorry!

If you are on this list and want to be removed from this and future sequels, let me know!

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar au

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 1 year ago

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I keep seeing the take floating around that Ed didn't apologize enough or "earn his redemption," and I think those takes miss the point so hard.

Ed never needed a redemption arc. Yes, it's right that the crew expected apologies. But he never needed to learn that the way he treated the crew at the start of s2 was wrong; I'm sure he already knew. That's why he immediately let them put him in a sack and a cat collar, to prove that he was sorry for how he'd acted towards them. But honestly? Most of the crew had a really easy time forgiving Ed. Jim gives him a hard time but immediately after his shitty group apology they're like "yeah, that was pretty good."

The crew knew what Ed is normally like. They're his friends, they like him, they want him to feel better. Pirates are consistently shown as a very mutiny-happy bunch and they waited until he pushed them so hard all their lives were in danger before they mutinied on him. He needed to apologize, yeah, but they never stopped loving him.

And honestly? I think a lot of the takes I'm seeing afford Ed so little sympathy. Because frankly there are times when people can't be fully held responsible for their actions, and in the middle of a suicide attempt is one of them. Yes, it's still right that he had to apologize, that's an explanation for his behavior but it doesn't excuse it. He acted like a shitty boss and a shitty friend, and the crew have every right to be upset with him, but they also feel incredibly guilty because they know Ed wasn't himself. The show clearly wants us to sympathize with Ed here, too.

If you were looking for Ed to get a "redemption arc," I'm not surprised you came away disappointed, because he didn't need one. He needed to start healing, and he needed to start learning that he's not some unlovable monster. Season 2 is about a guy being so convinced that he's fundamentaly unlovable that he's willing to try to destroy what's left of his relationships with other people just to get them to kill him, and it doesn't work because he's actually so, so very loved, and he gets to fix things and work things out with his boyfriend and start learning who he is outside of all the expectations put on him. It's about recovery, not redemption.

#ofmd #our flag means death #cw suicide

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little-annie · 5 months ago

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Just another @strangerthingswritersguild prompt

T (mentions of death/dying) | WC 532 | Steddie

No one said it'd be easy, learning to live again.

Especially with knowing all that he does now.

But certain things make it easier. Certain people.

Like Robin. Like Nancy. Like Dustin and Lucas and Mike and Will. El, Max. Joyce Byers and by some strange turn of events Jim Hopper.

Everyone.

Those mentioned and more.

But most of all, Steve.

If it wasn't for the dashing young Paladin Eddie would probably be dead, or at the very least homeless. Steve had carried Eddie's limp, bleeding body from the bellies of hell and stayed by his side. Or so the kids say, and Wayne and Robin tease. According to them, the only time Steve left was to prepare his home for Eddie. And Wayne. Because that's who he is apparently, to Eddie's utter bafflement.

As the fissures in the earth sealed themselves and the wounds within their skin closed all the same, Steve and Eddie found themselves as roommates and fast friends.

Turns out on those rare days he left the hospital, Steve prepared a room for Eddie and a separate one for Wayne. Ensuring that they'd be their most comfortable.

Though it's not like Eddie stayed in his room for long.

The night terrors made their very unwelcome arrival the first night Eddie spent in the Harrington's home. He tried to power through them for about a week. Waking to his own screams in a cold sweat and clinging to what vestiges of reality he could grasp.

Soon enough though his screams woke Steve and every night that followed Eddie found himself settling into the navy blue cloud that was Steve Harrington's bed.

The recovery of his mental health seemed to rapidly stitch itself back together from that moment on. Like just laying beside Steve Harrington eases the nerves that scratch and itch at Eddie's bones.

It might have to do with the way when Eddie starts to fuss in his sleep, Steve simply wraps around him and pulls him into his chest. But Eddie refuses to think too hard on that.

With his days and nights by Steve's side, everything gets easier.

Waking up in the mornings, cleaning his dressings and settling into his newest version of reality.

For that first week Eddie struggled with changing his own bandages and brushing his own hair, but now with Steve persistently involved he doesn't have to do those tasks alone.

Now instead of gasping, wincing and shedding a few tears, Eddie simply raises his arms and allows Steve to unwarp the soiled bandages from around his torso. Cleaning the moulted skin with alcohol and gently applying the prescribed antibiotic cream.

Afterwards, he brushes Eddie's hair. Wetting it, putting in something he calls *leave in conditioner* and running his large fingers through it until it's silky and manageable.

Then if Steve's not going into work or volunteering where he's needed in the community, they eat breakfast and settle in on the couch for a round of Golden Girls reruns.

It's there in Steve Harrington's arms, that gathering up all the pieces of himself feels easier. That with this newfound care being forced upon him, Eddie thinks, maybe recovery won't be so hard.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steddie fic #steddie fandom #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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steddieunderdogfics · 4 months ago

Note

The Harrington Home for Strays and Stars by cydonic

Rating: Explicit

212,992 words, 27/? chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Vaguely 90's in terms of timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Growth for Emotionally Damaged Boys, Grumpy Babies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Dislike to Mutual Pining pipeline, Farmer Steve Harrington, Foster Carer Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Addict Eddie Munson, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Rehabilitation, Healing, Recovery, many animals, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drug Withdrawal, First Kiss, First Time, Smut, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Rimming

Summary:

Steve buys a little rundown farmhouse after his parents pass. He collects abandoned and stray animals, ones with disabilities and high medical needs, because he has both the funds and the time to give them the best life they can possibly have. Then, somehow, he starts collecting kids, too, working with the foster system to give them a place to learn and grow. Adults, however, aren't really his forte, but when Jim Hopper calls in a favour, Steve can't help but agree. It turns out that Eddie Munson, a rockstar famous for both his music and hedonistic lifestyle, is going to be Steve's next rescue.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #farm au #slow burn #recovery

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911lsbts · 2 months ago

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TheWrap: We find out that Judd is drinking heavily and has barely hanging on since Grace left. And no one had any idea until this episode. How did that storyline come about?

Rashad Raisani: When Sierra McClain, who played Grace, was unable to come back to the series, I had a lot of conversations with Jim Parrack about his character and where he would go.

We started looking back at where Judd was when he met Grace in Season 2. And we see that he was A) drinking too much, B) had a lot of issues with anger, and C) met her by calling a prayer crisis hotline, which was essentially a suicide hotline.

We talked about he’d look like without his center. Jim, who has a lot of experience, and I don’t want to speak for him, but with recovery and dealing with things like that, he talked about how invisible it is to a lot of people.

We’ve tried to play that this was just sitting there all season in plain sight, but it was only when Owen took Judd home and saw it with his own eyes [that viewers realized what was going on].

And, frankly, we also wanted to give Jim Parrack a big story before this season was over. And I think in Episode 10 in particular (which airs on Jan. 20), you see maybe the most haunting performance of the series, the way that Jim plays it.

I think the plan was always to put Judd in crisis. Also, it’s a way to honor what Sierra and Grace meant to the show that without her, look where Judd is.

And none of the other characters picked up on it this whole time?

[The clues are] there from the first episode of the season [where he offers Owen a drink when he comes over]. And then Tommy (Gina Torres) comes by his house to get a baby monitor, and in the background, there are bottles on the sink. And at TK’s birthday party, we cut away to Judd, drinking pretty heavily.

TheWrap: Is it still on the table that Owen might go back to New York and take the Fire Chief job?

Rashad Raisani: It seemed to me, as we wind this show up, that it was only tragedy and crisis that brought Owen to Texas between his son’s overdose and the 126 —the previous 126 — how they all died in that horrible tragedy in the pilot.

Until he discovers Judd’s alcoholism, both of those crises have sort of abated. And now he feels the call to New York because the children of his teammates who died on 9/11 need him, and so that that is pulling him back to New York.

The scene at the 9/11 memorial is so moving, where he leaves a note to his fallen comrades.

Brad Bucha, the director of producing, also directed the pilot and he had this incredible footage that we never got to use where Owen went to the 9/11 memorial wall. We shot the scene at two o’clock in the morning, when it was available to us, and the docent told us about how people would write messages on little pieces of paper and then tuck them into the wall as either promises or statements of love.

I remember talking to Rob about putting something in there, like a promise. We thought that would air in the pilot, and then it just didn’t fit. And then this episode became the perfect opportunity to use it. I think that also was part of what led us back to this New York storyline.

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #article #5.09 #s5

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not-a-space-alien · 9 months ago

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K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 6B

Part 6 of the "B side" universe for AU4. You can check chapter 4B for clarification on what this means if you're lost.

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings: Transphobia, unsupportive family relations

***

The hug lasts for an absurdly long time, but they do have to pull away eventually. Liz gives Valen a soft clap on the back. "Whenever you wanna go home, I'll take you over to the border, just like you brought Jim to me. You just focus on resting up and healing, okay?"

Valen curls up in on himself, looking dejected. Go home? He can't just go home. Can he? He is still reeling from this whole experience--and it honestly feels like he'll never be safe again by himself. What does he even have to go back to? He didn't have much before he'd gotten taken, but now, five years later? He isn't even sure what home he'd have to go back to. He would have nothing.

But they had to feed him with their own blood. Of course they'd want him out of their hair as soon as possible. This was probably their polite way of saying they wanted him to leave, right? But they'd just been hugging him, had that just been polite, too?

Trying not to look too pathetic and sad, he picks up the notepad and writes Does it have to be today?

"Okay, first thing, it's not gonna be today no matter what, 'cause you're not healthy enough to get back on your own yet." Jim says. "Second, you don't have to do anything. We just kinda assumed you'd wanna go home. You can stay here with me for as long as you want. I'm happy to have you." He smiles.

Valen almost can't believe what he's hearing. For once he wants to stay, and that's allowed. He writes: Even though you have to feed me? Oh, maybe it'd been presumptuous to assume they'd keep feeding him, since 'feeding' isn't necessarily included in 'letting you stay here.' Too late, though, he'd already showed it to them.

"Of course. Whatever you need, Valen." Jim gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Or maybe you could visit out there to get blood packs. We got options."

"I'm gonna go finish working on the door." Liz gives Valen a little wave before going back to the basement entrance.

"I probably can't make it out here every day, but you can put me on the menu sometimes for sure." Laken says with a wink before going to join Liz.

Valen politely clasps his hands together in front of him and gives a little bow. That's something a person does, right? Instead of just cowering on the floor.

Jim interprets that as a thank you. "You're welcome. I take it you don't really have anyone waiting up at home then, but if you wanna make a phone call, I can like, read out stuff you write down to make it work if you wanna. You know you're not a prisoner here, right?" He thought that should be obvious, considering the door was open all night and Valen could have left at any time, but maybe it needs to be said. "You're- well, I'd like to think we're friends by this point."

Valen's lip wobbles. How had he so quickly gone from leech, parasite, lower than dirt to friend? He wants to hug Jim again, but Jim doesn't want hugs right now, so instead, he folds his legs under him and bows even lower than he had the first time. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

"You're all good, buddy. None of this would be possible if you hadn't saved me in the first place. We'd both still be stuck in hell." Jim points out. He reaches a hand out to help Valen up and takes him back over to the couch to rest.

Honestly, the prospect of Valen staying excites Jim. He'd be a lot less paranoid about Kane coming back for him with Valen here, plus he gets lonely. And the thought of Valen going through the pain of recovery alone hurts his heart.

Valen sits on the couch and wraps himself up in the blanket there, watching Liz finish her work on the door curiously, but not bravely enough to go check it out.

Liz and Laken eventually finish, coming back out carrying a lot of silver. "Well, guess we'll be seeing you around then, Valen!" Liz calls happily.

Valen waves with both his hands. His face hurts if he tries to smile, but he hopes he's waving enthusiastically enough to get the point across.

They leave, and Jim puts the TV on to just hang out for a little. After about an hour, he asks, "Are you gonna... be okay? If I head into the kitchen for a bit to make food, you'll still, um, be okay when I get back?" You're not gonna off yourself, right?

It's been a while since Valen has felt this okay. He's fed, and people care about him, and no one is hurting him. Jim was right, everything did feel a lot better after he'd eaten. It no longer feels so insurmountably scary. He nods, and gives a thumbs-up, but then when Jim actually gets up to make lunch, he gets up and follows Jim into the kitchen.

Jim smiles when he notices Valen following him. He decides to make beans and rice, the meal he ate in Valen's house, for old times' sake. Except this time, it's actually good, because he has a stove this time. "Remember when you offered me a bunsen burner to cook with?" he asks with a laugh.

Valen had been excitedly rocking from foot to foot, but he stops when Jim says this. Jim thinks it's funny. That it's ridiculous. He vaguely remembers it. He'd remembered it better before he'd been tortured, because that had made everything before feel so distant, and blurred together. Is it bad that Valen did that? Jim doesn't seem angry, but he is laughing, like it'd been stupid. The hunters laughed at him for a lot of things. Being too weak, being helpless, being stupid, making mistakes. Jim wouldn't punish him for what he's talking about, would he? Jim's not going to punish him. He'd said that. It's just hard to feel that, instead of the constant, pounding anxiety that at any second the pain is going to start again.

He thinks Jim is probably just bringing up a funny memory, but the urge to always interpret things in the worst way possible is too strong. Jim can't possibly just be joking around with his friend, Valen doesn't have friends, only tormenters.

No, that's not right, Jim had said he was a friend.

It's too much, it's too much to decide. He quickly scribbles I'm sorry I won't do it again I'll be good and shows it to Jim, eyes firmly on the floor

Jim's smile turns sad as he reads the note. "Nah, I'm glad you did. It was considerate. It's a good memory."

He remembers when he first got back. He was so jumpy. He used to say stuff like that all the time, after years of Kane hitting him at best and beating him at worst for any show of defiance. "It'll get better. The I-gotta-be-good stuff. It's real bad at first 'cause it's all you've known for years. But you start to get used to being a person again, and it lessens. Never goes all the way away, but it gets good enough. Least in my experience."

Valen wants to make eye contact so, so badly. He hasn't looked Jim, his savior, in the face yet, not even once. But he has to be good. But Jim was just saying about that...

He writes May I look you in the eye?

"Yeah, of course. Look away." Jim had thought Valen was avoiding eye contact due to nerves, he didn't even consider that he might think he's not allowed.

Look away. Oh no, conflicting directions. He averts his eyes, looking away from Jim, whimpering, confused.

Jim is confused for a moment, then realizes his phrasing was bad. "Oh, uh, something-away means to do something. Like, you can look. Sorry, my bad."

Oh, right. Yes, yes of course. It seems so unfair that the humans can just speak willy nilly without even thinking about how they phrase things, when Valen has to parse each syllable for signs of danger.

No, he doesn't have to do that, that's the point.

Valen slowly works his eyes up Jim's body, stopping at his shoulders, hovering there. He forces them to go higher, just briefly flicking them up to Jim's eyes, then immediately letting them fall again. Okay, that's good, that's progress, he looked into Jim's eyes and nothing bad happened, he didn't get accused of trying to use persuasion, he didn't get thrown in the sun.

"There you go. Making progress." Jim spoons his lunch into a bowl. "You've got nice eyes. You don't need to look at the floor all the time." The bright red of Valen's eyes doesn't scare him like the eyes in his nightmares. There's no malicious intent in them.

Nice eyes, he has nice eyes, nice eyes?! He goes beet red, now avoiding eye contact out of sheer embarrassment and being overwhelmed, unable to figure out how to handle the compliment.

You've got nice eyes would have been a prelude to a hunter gouging them out in his old life, but that's far too brutal for Valen to even worry about Jim doing in his imagination.

He makes a choked sound and brings his hands to his face, hiding his reddened cheeks.

Jim tries not to laugh again, worried it might be taken the wrong way. "Sorry, didn't mean to fluster you or anything." He leans against the counter and starts eating.

Valen watches Jim eat with fascination, wondering why he isn't sitting at the table.

Valen thinks about what Jim had said earlier, about making a phone call. He doesn't want to call Priscus, but maybe talking to his parents would be nice. They're probably worried about him.

Valen waits patiently until Jim is finished eating, then holds his hand up to his head to pantomime a phone call.

"Yeah, I can help you make a phone call. Who am I calling and what do you wanna say?" Jim asks, leading Valen over to the phone.

Valen sits down primly next to the phone and writes out his parent's phone number and some instructions.

This is my parents' house.

My mother will probably answer.

Please tell her what happened and where I am. In very general terms. And that I'm alive and safe now.

"Gotcha. Um, I just wanna prepare you, if you've been missing for years and you can't talk to her, she might not believe me. You can always call her back after you can talk again." Jim tells him.

He picks up the phone and dials the number. "Hello? Is this Mrs., uh, Valen's mom?"

"Hm?" says a woman's voice. "Hello? You knew my daughter?"

"Yeah. Um, about that, I know this is gonna sound really hard to believe, but Valen's alive and here with me. Sh-she's recovering from a mouth injury and can't talk right now. Got captured by hunters and hurt a lot, but she's out and safe now. We're in human territory. Valen should be well enough to talk in a couple days, I bet." Jim takes the notepad and writes Not out to mom? while he talks.

Valen rolls his eyes in an exasperated way and writes I came out to her, she's just in denial.

"What?" Valen's mother says. "Oh my god, that sounds just like something she would do. Walk right on into human territory with her arms open to try and give the first human she sees a big old hug. She probably tried to talk nicely to the vampire hunters, I bet." Her voice is dripping with disdain. "She's such a bright girl, but her head is full of such.... unrealistic ideas. Wait...who are you, why are you in human territory? Are you a human hunter, do you work for the blood farms? You should know that she's married, understand?"

Valen groans and lets his head slump.

Jim is speechless for a few moments. "Is that seriously your reaction to learning your kid, who you thought was dead, is alive and finally safe after being locked up for years?" he asks, incredulous.

"Well," she says, suddenly sounding defensive, "she barely ever calls us, I was half convinced nobody could find her because she just finally ran off or something. I don't hear from her for years at a time anyway. Of course I was worried for her, but I've always advised against this reckless behavior precisely because of this. Tell her she's welcome to come home, of course, although she really should simply go back to her husband."

Valen looks so, so tired, resting his head on his hand. He's wondering why he thought this was a good idea

"I don't need to tell him because he can hear you. He's been listening this whole time. And you know what, you're a shitty mom. He deserves better. Valen, you got anything else you wanna say to her?" Jim asks, heated.

Valen shakes his head sadly.

"Who do you think you are?" she says. "I've never been anything but supportive!"

Valen mimes hanging up the phone.

Jim hangs the phone up without another word to her.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Valen. That's... wow." He shakes his head. "With family like that, who needs enemies, y'know?" Jim's eyes shine with tears. He's really upset about Valen being treated this way.

Valen gives a noncommittal shrug. In his mother's mind, not disowning him and not forbidding him to go to college like he wanted to is enough to classify herself as supportive. He taps the pencil, sighs heavily, and writes I'm not sure what I really expected.

"You said you might wanna stay? You've got a new family now, if you want." Jim wants to hug him, but he can't seem to make himself do it. He reaches a hand out and squeezes Valen's upper arm gently instead.For some reason, the phone call and getting put down by his mother has been very grounding. It's reminding him of who he was before. He's a person, who has a mother he can have a bad relationship with. He moves his hand on top of Jim's, squeezing it back, nodding. He's certainly not going back to his husband. The thought of being this vulnerable and scared around Priscus makes him shiver with dread. He would fall prey to Priscus's manipulation every time, he knows he would. And going back to his parents' wouldn't be much better. No, this feels like the safest place, against all odds.

***

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@emcscared-whumps

@gt-daboss

@hurtpluscomfort

@jakersdaboss

@lolrpop

@melancholy-in-the-morning

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@whump-addict

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

#whump #K+J #angst #whumpblr #hurt/comfort

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hummingbird-of-light · 9 days ago

Text

In Our Favor

Part 415

McCoy

It had to all be a dream.

Christine and Jaylah were close to McCoy’s sides, doing their best to give him comfort. Aporal still had a hand on McCoy’s knee, giving his support as well. Spock had moved to a far corner to contact Georgiares and Jim was nearby giving Francine and Alasdair the news.

Francine had gasped and begun to cry, but had quickly gotten herself under control.

The door opened and McCoy jumped to his feet as a doctor entered.

“One moment your majesty,” Spock said quietly in the corner.

Every eye in the room locked onto the doctor.

“Your highness?”

McCoy stepped forward, his stomach tight with fear.

“Yes?”

“We have Mr. Scott in a recovery room now if you’d like to see him,” said the doctor. “He’s still asleep, but he’ll make a full recovery.”

Aporal’s hand caught the middle of McCoy’s back as he sagged with relief. His knees trembled and he was glad for the Andorian’s steadying hand.

“Yes!” He pulled himself together to follow the doctor.

“Once he is awake we can see if he’s ready for other visitors,” the doctor continued.

“Your highness?” Spock caught McCoy's attention. The prince nodded and Spock stepped over to follow.

“He comes,” McCoy said, with a firm look at the doctor.

“Follow me,” said the doctor and turned to leave the room.

McCoy glanced around at their other friends, worried faces giving encouraging smiles, eyes brightening with the news that Scotty would be ok.

The hallways seemed extra long as McCoy and Spock followed the doctor to Scotty’s room. Spock still carried the PADD and the call with the king was still connected. McCoy could hear the murmur of voices from in David’s office.

“In here your highness,” the doctor said as they stopped at a closed door. “We’ll be keeping an eye on him from the desk. He should be waking up soon.”

McCoy’s fingers shook as he reached to open the door. He swallowed hard as it opened and revealed Scotty lying under the sheets of a bed. McCoy hurried forward.

Scotty was pale and hooked up to a few machines. A steady beep was quiet in the background. Spock stopped inside the door and closed it behind them. He gave McCoy space, but began to speak to the PADD again in nearly a whisper.

“Hey darlin’,” McCoy said softly as he leaned over Scotty. One of his hands found Scotty’s, while the other carefully stroked his cheek.

McCoy’s eyes suddenly filled with tears and he couldn’t help as a few landed on the sheets across Scotty’s chest. His head whipped around as the door opened. Spock gave him a nod before stepping out. He knew the Vulcan would keep guard.

“I’ve been so scared,” McCoy admitted to Scotty as he wiped at his eyes. “Jim called your mom, so she and Granddad know. He’s probably told them now that you’re going to be ok. Chris and Jaylah and Aporal are back in the waiting room, and Spock is guarding the door. He called Father.”

He squeezed Scotty’s hand, wishing his husband would wake up. He wanted to hug him and hold him tight, but he didn’t want to hurt him either. Gently McCoy lifted the sheets. Neat bandages covered Scotty’s side.

“The admiral came to see me too. She doesn’t know how this happened. She’s got guards on us too and she says they’re ones she trusts.” McCoy made a scoffing noise. “I hope she’s right about these ones.”

The steady beep filled the room as McCoy stopped talking. He realized he was rambling. But maybe that’s what Scotty needed. Could he hear him in his unconscious? Leah had said she’d heard Robbie.

“Please wake up soon leannan…”

Part 416

Scotty

When Scotty opened his eyes, blinking slowly, he didn't know where he was for a moment. A soft, somewhat dimmed light filled the room and he heard the sound of beeping machines. It wasn't the place where he had last woken up.

It was... a hospital room. But... why was he in a hospital?

Very carefully, Scotty let his head roll to the side and he couldn't help but smile gently at the sight of a familiar figure holding his hand. Leonard. The prince was asleep, his chin resting on his chest. Scotty recognized the stains of dried tears on his face.

With as much strength as he could muster, Scotty squeezed his husband's hand.

"Mo ghràdh..." The Scotsman's voice sounded hoarse and exhausted and just loud enough to be audible. But Leonard immediately winced and raised his head. When he saw the awake Scotty, a few tears flowed again immediately.

"Leannan! Y-you're awake. Oh, thank God!" The lump in Leonard's throat was clearly audible and Scotty gently stroked the prince's hand with his thumb, before he frowned a little bit.

"Aye. What... what happened?"

Leonard's face darkened and the sight of it brought back some memories for Scotty. Memories of the time before his deep sleep. His eyes grew wide.

"I... Someone shot me. Right?"

Leonard nodded slowly and a wave of memories washed over Scotty. Memories of what had happened. Memories of Leonard's voice speaking to him while he slept, telling him different things.

"It was... one of the members of Starfleet's security. He... he tried to kill us." The words came slowly to Scotty's lips as he summarized his memories. The beeping of the devices quickened. His pulse started to race.

"Shh, it's all right, Scotty. I'm with you. You're out of danger. And Spock is looking out for us."

Spock. Yes. Scotty remembered the words Leonard had said to him while he had been asleep.

Nodding, the Scotsman let his head sink a little deeper into the pillow and slowly his heartbeat calmed down again.

"I promise you that we will find out how all this could have happened, leannan. I'll make sure the guy is punished for it."

Leonard sounded very serious. There was firm determination in his gaze.

And Scotty believed him. He believed that Leonard would do anything for him. And that was precisely why he made a request that he knew Leonard wouldn't like.

"I... I want a royal security team. I... want Andre and his people close to us."

He needed to know that someone was looking out for them, someone the two of them could trust. He needed to know that nothing like this would happen to him or Leonard again.

Leonard's eyes grew wide in an instant, but before he could say anything back, the door to the room opened and Spock and a doctor entered.

"Mr. Scott-McCoy. You're awake. How are you feeling?"

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #in our favor

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poppedrocksoda · 3 months ago

Text

Color Theory

Chapter Two

y/n didn't have it in her to harm anyone, but herself. She's a good girl, too good. That's why Jerome didn't involve her in Lila's murder. It's not as though it was planned. Just spur of the moment. The hatchet being within arms reach was a coincidence. Some could go as far as to say that it was an accident. A simple slip of the hand.

The whole thing came as a surprise to the circus. Whether or not Lila had it coming, everyone felt some sort of pity for Jerome. He was weird and there were rumors about him, but ever since his twin had left he's become a bit quiet. The years of abuse made him quiet. y/n was all he had now.

When the detective called that night, y/n insisted on going with him. He didn't want to bring her along because he didn't want to scare her. She was like a deer, loud things and people made her want to run to safety. Ironic with her growing up in the circus.

"I want to be there for you. Going through something like this is never easy, but you don't have to go through it alone. What kind of fiancé would I be if I left my pumpkin alone at such a dark moment?" How could he say no after hearing that? How could he say no to those pretty eyes?

If he had known that was that Jim Gordon would have caught him, he's not sure if he'd bring her along. The look on her face when he was dragged out of the police department while laughing was as precious as it was heartbreaking.

She tried reaching out to him with that confused expression, but she was held back by the police. As he was dragged away, he could hear her asking, "Where are they taking him? What's going on? Let him go, please."

Honestly, Jerome didn't expect to see what he suspected was his ex-fiance ever again. So when she visited him at Arkham, it was a pleasant yet puzzling surprise.

She explained that she and old man Cicero had stayed behind. It was clear to Jerome that their reason to stay behind was the same. Though it seemed like she had no idea by saying that Cicero wanted to retire from circus business.

Jerome couldn't stop laughing during that first visit, though. It was almost a miracle that y/n was willing to let something such as murder slide. Going as far as to leave behind her family to stay in Gotham with him. It was too funny and almost reliving in a way.

"You'll get better here. It won't be a quick recovery, but I'm not going anywhere." She said.

"At least until visiting hours are up." His words made her pout slightly. She'd mumble to him, "You know what I mean."

Every week, y/n would visit Arkham while juggling a few jobs. Washing dishes, cleaning toilets, and doing overtime. It was funny to see Jerome look better than ever while y/n had bags under her eyes.

Their conversations would have been inconspicuous if Jerome was getting the treatment he needed. It was clear as day that he wasn't getting better. Having a more lively attitude seemed like a good sign until he started behaving more erratically. How he reviled and giggled like a schoolgirl when talking about his crime.

Then he goes on about how he'd kill his fellow inmates or guards if given the chance. He spoke as if this was normal. When he'd glance at her and see that worried expression, he'd smile at her. It was supposed to be comforting, and to an extent it was, yet it felt wrong. This wasn't right.

"Don't worry, toots, I wouldn't dare hurt you. Not on purpose." Seeing that there was an inkling of distress, Jerome added, "I'm still the same ol' Jerome that proposed to you with a plastic ring. The only thing that's changed is the setting, and I feel free. Well, almost free."

y/n swallowed her rationality. It was better to pretend that things could get better. Sometimes she wonders if he knows how influential he is to her. "You'll always be a pumpkin head to me." Her voice was light as normal, but her smile was lopsided. Telling him that she didn't necessarily believe him.

Jerome put his against the glass that divided them. "Once I blow this joint, I'm getting you a ring. A real one with a diamond that's as big as an elephant turd." y/n huffed out a laugh. He still had an interesting choice of words.

"I hope it's not because I don't think my finger could take that much weight. Also, they said you aren't supposed to put your hand on the glass." The young man rolled his warm eyes with a carefree expression. There was always something amusing about how subservient she can be.

"Ah, come on, what are they gonna do? Say don't do that and throw a raisin cookie at you." The reference made another laugh escape her lips. "They looked like chocolate chip cookies at a glance. But I was too excited and gluttonous." She tried to sound serious while holding a smile.

After the momentary amusement was gone, his face fell. He wasn't frowning like he was upset about anything. It would have almost looked like he was relaxed if that look in his eyes were gone. There was just something about it that couldn't be put into words.

What y/n had mistaken for an innocent childishness for many years has become more twisted. She couldn't say there was depravity because she didn't want to acknowledge it. Not even after everything. She didn't want to call him a depraved individual. It sounded too bleak and maybe even too harsh to be labeled that. She'd rather imagine him as a broken person with a warped mind. Each visit was forcing her to question that image.

He pushed his hand harder against the glass. "You know that I love you, right?" The seemingly sudden confession made blood rush to her cheeks. Before responding, she placed her hand against the glass with some hesitation. Their hands were so close. If only that glass was gone.

Jerome would do just about anything to feel her skin. "I love you too." She with a warm smile.

He supposed that this could do for now.

This went on for months, and it was lonely. She had never felt so alone before. Even if the blind man provided some company by being there, it wasn't much comfort. This was worth it in the end. Jerome was worth it in the end, right?

During dinner, the TV played in the background to fill in the dead air. Even with the background noise, it didn't distract y/n like it would normally. A question has been plaguing y/n's mind for a while now, but she didn't dare bring it up. Not with Jerome. He was the last person she'd want to talk about it with because she was scared. Too scared to get confirmation.

She asked slowly, "Did we fail him?" Her voice was quiet, but she knew Cicero heard her by how he stopped eating. The man frowned at the question and let out a sigh.

"We did our best, but it was his choice. It was his choices that led him to where he is." The air thickened by Cicero's harsh tone. y/n pursed her lips and said, "You make it seem like he had a choice whether Lila abused him. It's not like she didn't have it coming."

y/n's last sentence shocked Cicero. Never has he heard her talk with a sharpness or bring up the murder. It was never brought up, since it seemed like they both struggled to grasp the situation. In all honesty, he would have thought that she would stand a little more on Lila's side. The woman was horrible, but she shouldn't be murdered for it.

"Lila was," He struggled with what to say, "many things, but murder is never the answer."

Her nose slightly flared up. He wasn't answering her initial question, and his words made her get off track. "Of course, it's never the answer, but it's not hard to understand why he did it. If he felt like he had a choice, then I'm sure he wouldn't have killed her. Everyone knew what kind of person she was." With each word, her soft voice became more bitter. She kept those bitter words in her mouth for so long that it was a matter of time before she spat them out.

"Lila wasn't a good person, but she loved Jerome. It's just that she's not- wasn't right. She was a broken woman."

y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Old man Cicero couldn't be defending that woman, right? He was just stating something, wasn't he? You could state facts without trying or meaning to defend someone, but it didn't sound like it. It could have been if he didn't claim that Lila loved Jerome.

"Lila didn't love or even care for Jerome. If she was a decent mom, maybe then Jeremiah wouldn't have run away."

"Jeremiah didn't leave because—" Cicero tried to speak, but y/n kept airing out her frustration.

"The whole circus knew what was happening and did nothing. Everyone saw the bruises littered all over him and said nothing. We did nothing. I did nothing because I didn't want to be alone. I was selfish. I knew if he left the circus too, I'd be alone. I should have tried harder to protect him or—" A broken sob escaped her lips.

Her sharpness was gone, replaced by pitiful crying and sniffing. The tension was broken, leaving behind something somber.

Cicero called her name. Knowing that he was going to try to comfort her, she shook her head, just like she was going to shake off any sort of comfort. She knows what Jerome did was and is horrible. She's not as stupid as people believe her to be, but that didn't stop her from feeling confused.

"You did nothing wrong. We've done nothing wrong. No one knew that this was going to happen. If we did then we would have tried to stop it." The young woman clenched her jaw and balled both her hands.

"How does that make it any better? What do you even know? The circus- we should have done something. God, damn it. He was always sick, I know. Something was going to happen, but we did nothing. So don't say that. Or maybe you don't even know anything, you can't see anything. You can't see the future, you can't see shit."

y/n realized what she had said a little too late. Her shoulders slumped down. This was pointless. Arguing and going to insult the man in front of her wasn't going to change anything.

Embarrassment and even a bit of guilt crept up her back like a spider. She abruptly got out of her chair. Hastily putting on her shoes while mumbling an apology, "I'm sorry. I don't mean- sorry. I'm going to take a walk, I'll be back. I-I'm really sorry." She didn't bother to listen to the old man's response.

But as she threw on a jacket and stepped out the door, she heard him mumble. "I failed them. Both of them."

The only light comes from the streetlamps. It seemed like she was the only one out here. Walking aimlessly in the cold breeze. The cold temperature nipped at her exposed face, making it a nice distraction.

Cold temperature always calmed her down when she had an emotional moment. She would turn on the sink to put her hand under the faucet to feel the cold water calm her nerves. She could have done that at the apartment, but type discomfort leads her to run away and hide.

She'd often hide behind her mom or Jerome. She'd even hide behind Jeremiah when he was still around. But she was alone. There wasn't anyone to run to. No one to cling to while they told her that everything was going to be alright. Just alone in this dark city. Longing for simpler days when she was an ignorant child.

"You're sick, but you'll get better. Not today. Not tomorrow, but one day. I promise you that, pumpkin."

I found this while cleaning out my docs. Its just been sitting there for almost a year. So I just thought I publish it.

#jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome x reader #jerome valeska x reader #gotham x reader #x female reader

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stranger-rants · 2 years ago

Note

I know that post was a while ago, but I saw your post about Vance Hopper being related to Billy and/or Hopper, and what I love about both aus is that no matter which you go with, with Vance's attitude and overall anger issues, the people that know either of them are going to see them deal with him, and just be like, "Well, karma sure came back to bite you in the ass."

Yes! This is how I see the start of it:

Vance has been in the system for a year or two. His dad was a dead beat who wasn’t around much. His mom… Billy’s mom… died when he was about 14. His last foster parent ends up being a creep who keeps him locked in his room. Vance thinks he’ll just have to endure it until he ages out in a couple more years, but when this guys gets too handsy Vance runs away.

Trying to track down living relatives, he has very few clues. An address written on an envelope for a Billy Hargrove in Hawkins Indiana - never sent. There’s a letter inside. He hasn’t read it. He always knew he had a half brother. Never met him. His mom got really quiet anytime he asked questions, so he didn’t go around asking.

He ends up hitching rides and sleeping on couches all the way to Indiana from California. It’s a miracle he didn’t end up murdered by a stranger he met on the side of the road, but Vance is stubborn and convinced he could survive anything. He has certainly had enough close calls swindling perverts out of their money when he couldn’t find an arcade or game of pool to win bets off of.

He gets to Hawkins a bit disheveled and a bit pissed off and a lot anxious as fuck. It doesn’t take long for him to get picked up by Jim Hopper just for walking on the side of the road with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Jim takes him to the station, but not without a fight. He has to throw Vance in the back who spends the entire ride kicking his seat and spitting at him.

Jim just sighs. He’s had enough practice dealing with unruly blond brats. He doesn’t get much out of Vance other than a string of curse words when they finally get to the station. He doesn’t even know Vance’s full name, but he does manage to finally get Vance to tell him what he’s doing in Hawkins. He’s looking for his brother. Vance shows him the envelope with Billy’s name on it.

Jim leans back in his chair. Takes a deep breath. Says alright, then rings up Billy Hargrove. Billy is twenty six. He’s been living with Steve, but he spent some time living with Jim when he was in recovery. Their relationship is much better than what it was when Billy was a teen, but Vance’s arrival and what it could mean for Billy… how Billy might react… it puts him on edge.

Jim figures Vance has got to be Billy’s mom’s kid. That’s gonna open up a can of worms, and it’s gonna fucking hurt. Those blond curls certainly don’t come from Neil… but that temper. It reminds him of Billy and it reminds him of… himself. He tells Billy there’s someone down at the station he needs to meet. Doesn’t say much else.

Billy and Steve arrive together. Jim isn’t sure if that’s a good idea or bad idea. Within the first half hour of them meeting, Billy finds out his mom is dead and he has a half brother. Doing the math, she probably ran away soon after finding out she was pregnant with another guy’s kid. It’s a lot to process. Billy doesn’t say much. Steve puts his hand on Billy’s knee which has been shaking the entire time.

Vance notices it and frowns.

Vance eventually opens up enough to tell them his full name. Vance Hopper. Jim thinks it’s a coincidence until he asks him who his daddy is and where he is to which Vance answers 1) Frank Hopper and 2) fuck if he knows. Jim responds with “Frank?!” because he has a cousin who moved out west a long time ago. Not surprising he’d be a deadbeat dad, but weird coincidence he’d end up with Billy’s mom.

…well… he has dealt with Stranger Things (ba-dum-tis)

It ends up being a long fucking day that starts a long journey of them learning to be a family. Vance ends up staying with Billy and Steve but he’s uneasy about it. Billy and Steve think he’s being judgmental and homophobic which pisses Billy off, but the reality is that Vance has dealt with a lot of shitty people trying to take advantage of him.

Steve tries to play peacekeeper and help Vance feel welcome in their home. Billy is definitely more of a hard ass. Makes him go to school, and stay in school. No excuses. Billy and Jim both go on his emergency contacts. Billy and Vance get into a fight. Next day, Vance doesn’t come home from school. Billy freaks out. It’s a whole ordeal. Steve has to calm him down.

Turns out Vance ran over to Jim’s. Billy and Vance finally have a heart to heart. Talk about a lot of things. The shitty people they’ve run into. Their shitty dads. Their mom who they want to hate, but who they can’t help but miss. Vance finally shares the letter with Billy from their mom and they read it together.

Idk… something like that.

#asks #billy & vance #harringrove #billy & hopper #crossovers

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writesaboutdragons · 2 months ago

Text

365 Promises of God

Day 322 – What You Learn of Jesus will Not be Taken From You

But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her. (Luk 10:42 NKJV)

Read: Luke 10:38-42

During a church service one Sunday morning, a young preacher threw his Bible down on the floor and hollered at his congregation, “Too many people are looking at this book and not looking to me!” He was also quoted as saying “This black book has held down you people for 2000 years. It has no power.” That same preacher went on to implore his congregation to get rid of their bibles.

The church in question was called the People’s Temple, and the pastor was Jim Jones. He was best known for the suicide/murder of over 900 people in Jonestown, Guyana on November 18, 1978. Before those 900 went to Guyana, Jones convinced them to abandon their bibles. The Major responsible for recovery of the bodies put in his report that no bibles were found in Jonestown.

It's distressing to think that people could be so gullible as to follow a person like Jim Jones to the heart of the jungle, and then in a mass suicide. How could devout Christians be deceived by a monster like this, and depart so fully from the truth of scripture into what amounted to a cult? Perhaps they weren’t devout Christians. Perhaps they were. But that deception could only be achieved gradually, little by little, and could only be accomplished by, as Jones put it, destroying ‘this paper idol.’ Because the Word of God IS powerful, contrary to Jim Jones’ belief.

In our reading today, two sisters welcome Jesus into their home. One of them, Martha, busies herself with serving and caring for the needs of the budding ‘church’. And this is a wonderful thing. The other sister, Mary, sits at the feet of Jesus, and listens to His every word. And this is a better thing. Because, as our promise states, what you truly learn from the Word of God won’t be taken away from you. This is the reason I study His Word so hard. It's the reason I memorize critical verses, and why I write these devotionals for YOU, dear Christian. So study and memorize, so that this letter of love won’t be taken away from you.

Prayer:

Lord Jesus, thank you for your Living Word. May I study more of it, today. Amen

#christian #devotional #365 devos #365 promises of god #suicide #jim jones massacre #cult #bible #Word of God #mary and martha #jesus christ #scripture #scripture memorization

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whumpsday · 1 year ago

Note

you got an ask about this like, a year ago (and absolutely feel free to ignore this if you want to) but could we get a drabble of jim holding human!kane's hand as he introduces him to the sun sometime?🥺

takes place after chapter 18 but before chapter 52

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: impossible "anon magic"-type AU, recovery, comfort, referenced past torture

No one could explain it. One day, Kane woke up as a human, and that was that.

Jim had expected Kane to freak out, and he did a little, of course. But overall, it was a relief to them both. Kane made no secret of how overjoyed he was at the development. Despite his shortened lifespan and decreased strength, Kane was all-too-pleased with his new species. Where Jim considered being human a vulnerability, Kane could only find safety.

No risk of future hostility from the hunters that had hurt him. Protection under human territory law. The ability to eat regular food. No danger from the sun. As Kane told it, he even considered the lack of immortality a boon, his ability to experience pain capped below where it was for a vampire–his new form would perish long before it could ever experience being burned alive for days on end.

Of course, he'd freed Kane immediately, now that he posed no danger, but Kane had nowhere to go. He couldn’t exactly return to vampire territory. So he'd just... stayed. That was alright, Jim supposed. He’d already gotten used to having him around, and he didn't even have to feed him his blood anymore. He couldn’t bear the thought of forcing him to navigate the world all on his own as a new human.

Plus, he had to admit that watching Kane's face light up whenever he tried a new food was endearing.

Kane never left the house. Not during the night, when Jim warned him to be extra-careful of the new danger of vampires now that he was human, and certainly not during the day. Despite his freshly human skin, Kane remained utterly terrified of the sun.

Months after the change, it was taking his toll. Jim knew what that was like, the fatigue he’d experienced after Kane kept him away from the sun for the five years of his captivity. Kane was human now, and had never had a drop of healthy sunlight in his entire life.

So, after weeks of gentle coaxing, here they were.

Kane stood petrified in the living room as Jim slowly opened the curtain, firmly in the shade as natural light flooded into the room.

"It's okay," Jim said softly, stepping into the sun himself, warm and pleasant on his skin.

Kane stared at him wide-eyed and frozen, like he'd rather stepped into a cloud of poison.

"Here.” Jim extended an ar out of the sunned area, offering it. “Take my hand. We’ll do it together. It’ll be okay.”

“What if– what if I burn anyway?” Kane asked, making no attempt to come nearer.

“We’ll go slow. Just a fingertip, and if you burn, you can go right back out again. No one’s gonna make you stay in the sun. I’m not gonna make you stay in the sun.” Jim kept his hand out, waiting. “C’mon. You can’t put it off forever, humans need sun. It’ll be okay. No hurting.”

Kane, to his credit, took a tiny step forward. “You won’t pull me?” he asked, his voice small. He looked so much more vulnerable as a human, and he’d already looked plenty vulnerable before.

“Swear on my life, man. No pulling. You set the pace.” Jim beckoned him closer. “C’mon. You’re doing great.”

The little bit of praise seemed to motivate him, and Kane stepped closer still. His eyes crept away from Jim, to the unshielded window, following the ray of sunshine across the room until he lost his nerve. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m sorry, no no no, please don’t make me, I can’t!”

“It’s okay.” Jim stepped out of the sunbeam, going to Kane and taking his hand in the shade. “Not gonna make you do anything. It’s all you, remember?”

Kane gripped his hand lightly, still used to moderating vampiric strength he no longer possessed. “I’m sorry for being so difficult.”

“Pssh. After what you’ve been through, I’d be surprised if this wasn’t difficult. You’re doing great just by trying. Promise,” Jim assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I was difficult too, doing stuff for the first time. Gave Liz a headache taking me to the doctor when I had to get my blood drawn. But look at me now, I was doing it every day for your breakfast before you got all human-y. You’ve got this.”

It was something Jim had often felt ashamed of. But now, seeing Kane struggle too… maybe this stuff was just hard, and that’s fine.

Kane nodded slowly, taking his hand back. “Okay. Okay. I’ve got this. I–I’m going to do it.”

Breath held, he slowly closed the gap with one pointer finger outstretched. He finally touched the tip of his finger to the sun–and shrieked, pulling it back instantly and clutching it in his other hand.

“Shit! Are you hurt?” Jim asked. “For the life of me, I swear I totally thought it wouldn’t hurt you. You’re completely human in every other way. Oh my god, Kane, I–”

“It didn’t hurt,” Kane said softly, uncurling his hand to stare at his unharmed finger. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I thought it would hurt.”

Jim sighed with relief, giving Kane a pat on the shoulder. “Well, that’s good. Just nerves, then. You wanna try a little more?”

Kane hesitated, but nodded after a moment. “Alright. I’ll try.”

Jim walked back into the sun, holding his hand out into the shade. “Just come on over to me.”

With a deep breath, Kane took his hand. It was shaking, now, but Jim held it securely, hoping it’d make the guy feel a little safer. “I won’t pull you. You come to me.”

And he did. Inch by inch, his hand crept into the sun. There was no burst of pain, no burns blooming across his skin. The sun felt… pleasant, somehow, like a warm bath made of air. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Despite the terror, his body seemed to yearn for more, wanting to bask in it.

He stepped forward all at once, into Jim’s arms.

i'm back!! expect more writing soon!! ty to the anon who sent this ask and this anon who somehow shook me out of my slump

#kane and jim au #whump #my writing #comfort #whump recovery

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bagopucks · 2 years ago

Text

J. Drysdale - Island Of Love

✄————————————

Jamie Drysdale x Fem!Oc

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning(s): Heartbreak. Trevor’s a teensy bit mean.. but not like really mean.. just kinda like.. blunt.

It was supposed to be a reader insert, but then I decided to do this in Jamie’s point of view, so I did this one a little different.

It was not my plan to spend 4 straight hours on this.. it’s 4:00 am right now.. but I had a blast with it anyway..

—————————————

“Oh dude! We’re gonna have so much fun! I’ve got us booked on so many things. Snorkeling, and deep sea fishing… oh! Oh! And they even have these cool bars that look super neat in the evenings.”

Trevor was the best friend I could ever ask for… in that moment… he felt like the most insufferable.

He promised to get me out of the house after the season was over. With the recovery from my surgery going fairly well, and the overwhelming need to do anything, Trevor suggested a trip to Hawaii.

I would blame it on the fact that I’d gone stir crazy.. that’s why I agreed to go on this trip. To fly over the ocean. To go spend two weeks on an island surrounded by ocean.. to go swimming in the ocean. I was too pale on a day to day basis for Trevor to even notice how sick I felt on the flight there. The first step out of the airport was the most surprising. The world was entirely different. It almost made me feel bad for stepping on such beautiful grass with off white shoes that used to be the color of perfection.

“Aloha, visitor!” A beautiful voice caught my ear, with an accent I simply couldn’t place other than calling it Hawaiian. My eyes scanned the crowds before landing on a woman who looked half my size.

She waltzed over with grace, her dark curly hair bounced with each step she took. Mesmerizing.

The woman pulled the pink lei from her neck. This was a tradition I was aware of. One I had read up on before Trevor and I left California. I dipped my head in both a respectful manner, and to help her reach. She slipped the lei over my head, her hands sliding along the length of it as I lifted my head back up to meet her gaze.

I had never seen anybody so beautiful. Dark eyes, even darker hair. She had a beautiful tan, and the white of her cropped top looked much better than my shoes.

“Mālama ‘āina.” Her words made no sense to me, and I smiled nervously in response.

“I don’t understand you…” this made her smile falter. My gaze drifted toward Trevor, who was trying to strike up conversation with the woman who had greeted him.

“Take care of the land.” My eyes snapped back in her direction. Her accent was so beautiful. I swallowed and nodded.

“I am Eleu.” Oh god. Of all people. Why was my heart beating fast for a girl I’d never seen before?

“Jimmy- Jim! Jame.. Jamie.” Mhm. Yeah. Fourth time’s a charm. Her nose scrunched at me.

“Welcome, Jamie.”

Trevor found me not long after he finished speaking to his own greeter. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and began to drag me off out of the welcoming area they’d been in.

“I booked us this cool little hut looking thing.” I did my best to push the interaction to the back of my mind. She was a random woman, embarrassing myself in front of her should have meant nothing. I embarrassed myself in front of people every day.

“Where’s it at?” I engaged in the once one sided conversation.

“Like.. the other side of the island.”

——————

Trevor and I spent a lot of our first day traveling and settling into the small shoreside hut. It was made for tourism, I could tell, but I was more interested in the wilderness of the island. The things deeper inland. Things that weren’t the ocean. Instead, Trevor had dragged me out to the beach the second the sun rose on day two, insisting I needed a little time outside.

I didn’t know if there was a specific amount of sunscreen one could use before it became harmful to your skin. But I’d rather go out using sunscreen than having the worst sunburn of my entire life.

We were seated in beach chairs on the sand, Trevor laid out with a drink in his hand -which he bought after walking down the beach to find a bar-. I was leaned back in my own chair, hands clasped together over my stomach with a hat on in hopes of shielding my face from the sun.

“Doesn’t get much better than this, does it Jame?” Trevor’s voice broke me from my trance.

I shrugged.

“It’s pretty cool.” I should have been more excited, I knew that, but I couldn’t shake the nagging anxieties in the back of my head.

The ocean was so vast and unknown.. what if it just rose up and swallowed us whole?

“Seriously?” My head turned to look at Trevor when he spoke again. He shifted and sat up, turning his body sideways to face me.

“You gotta go on a walk or something. This might be the best vacation you ever get, and you’re spending it like a baby.”

He meant nothing by the harshness of his words, but they stung anyway.

“Go touch some grass. Or better yet,” Trevor stopped, then pointed a stiff arm at the water. “Go for a swim.”

All of a sudden, the walk idea hadn’t sounded so bad.

“I’ll just- you’re probably right. I just need to loosen up.” I reached for my t-shirt, taking it from where it had been draped over the back of my chair. “I’ll be back later.”

I never minded walks down the beach in Anaheim. I preferred to keep my distance from the water, but the walking aspect was relaxing.

I found through my stroll, that where we stayed must have been a generally private area. There weren’t many people around aside from a few families and kids.

Eventually though, nobody was around at all. I had stopped to stare down the length of the beach. Nothing. Then I heard screams and giggles erupt from the area around me. I turned my back to the ocean, facing up the sand where it slowly turned to grass. A building resided there, with a small pavilion beside it. Kids were running rampant. I felt a strong sense of discomfort. I was not supposed to be there.

“Hey!” Was it creepy to recognize her voice? I looked toward the pavilion to see the same woman from the day before, dressed in a breezy blouse and a pair of shorts. Beautiful.

“Hey!” A bright smile painted my lips as I raised a hand to wave. Some of the kids around her stopped to look, but most were too busy running about.

“You are not supposed to be here.” She made her way to the edge of the grass, I took a cautious step back. My smile fell, as did my hand.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.. I didn’t know.” I could have called her by her name, but honestly.. I didn’t remember it.

“Did you not see the sign?” I slowly looked over my shoulder. Not a sign in sight. So I squinted. She got impatient quickly.

“It says Kapu.” I looked back up at her.

“I don’t understand your language.” I reminded her. She huffed.

“Keep out.”

“Tourists.” My gaze fell to the ground after she turned to walk away. Her behavior was a stark contrast to the kind greeting I received from before. I knew some places had a disliking for tourism, but I couldn’t understand why she would greet people so kindly if she resented them. Or why she would even offer to do it.

At that point, I had come to the conclusion to end my walk. I never spoke a word about the encounter to Trevor when I got back. He looked bewildered that I was still as tense as before. Maybe even more tense.

——————

On Wednesday night, Trevor had clued me in on our next set of plans. I didn’t pick up on it until he mentioned dancing. In the movies they always depicted traditional Hawaiian luau’s as dancing.

When we got there, I realized it was nothing like that. And Eleu was there. Again. Trevor and I had found ourselves enjoying various traditional courses while the entertainment went on.

“I wish we had stuff like this in Anaheim.” I only nodded in agreement as I adjusted the hat on my head. I would have loved to see things like this back in California, but this is a culture that is not exactly ‘California’ esque.

Despite all there was to see, my eyes always drifted to Eleu. The fabric skirt she wore, each flap of green shaped to look like a palm frond, flowed in the gentle breeze. She was kind again. Kind to those around her, and kind to the people she served. I did not understand. I wanted to.. but I didn’t.

I came to find out later, that she wore the skirt to perform with a group of women who looked around her age. Around our age. She was a dancer. An elegant one at that. There was a story to be told in the music, but I could not interpret the movements. I still knew nothing about the culture. But I decided perhaps I could change that.

It turns out. It is incredibly hard to find somebody on an island. I did not know her name, and I did not know anything about her. The idea of simply going to where I found her before crossed my mind, but I tried the respectful route first. I didn’t want to trespass if I didn’t have to. I knew how upset it made her the first time.

When I came up empty, I put on a brave face, and made the trek back down the beach. I fidgeted most of the way there, uncertain of what I’d say or do. How I’d speak to her. When I got there, I was surprised to see Eleu out in the pavilion, surrounded by a large group of kids. I couldn’t hear her voice, but her movements looked animated enough to be telling a story. There were other adults around, but I was still hesitant to get too close. I had no doubt she was protective of those kids.

I must have waited around fifteen minutes, watching like a creep, until Eleu had seemingly dismissed the group of children. They’d gone to find the adults, and were eventually ushered away from the building.

“Now or never.” My hockey mentality just might get me killed on this one.

I stepped off the sand and into the grass. I approached with caution while Eleu had grabbed a broom. Her back was turned. I should have stopped and waited before she was looking to step onto the wooden platform of the pavilion. But mistakes were made too late.

She whipped around so quickly it had me raising my hands in surrender.

“You’re doing it on purpose now.” Eleu’s words were sharp. Her gaze traced my figure before she glared into my eyes.

“I came to talk to you?”

“You trespassed.” Not one of my finest ideas.

“Please?”

Eleu placed a hand on her hip, cocking it to the side. She was in no mood to handle this situation.

“There’s a lot of culture here. I was just curious if maybe.. you seem to know your stuff. I thought, I could ask for a little background?” She didn’t look convinced.

“You? With your hats,” she turned the broom in her hand, holding it near the bristles while she tipped the handle up toward my head. “And your loud friend?”

“No, he’s not in on this.. just me and my hats..” a nervous chuckle fell from my lips. I did not understand the need to insult what I wore on my head.

“The island would not accept you.. she doesn’t take well to your type.”

“Think so?” It was impulsive. Something I would have said to Trevor in the midst of a challenging statement. Eleu’s gaze softened, but her brow furrowed in confusion.

“I know so.” It was like she wasn’t sure how to respond, before backing up previous statements.

“Show me how she would accept me.” It wasn’t a demand.. I’d call it more of a suggestion.

“I don’t like tourists.” She shook her head.

“You called me a visitor.” I had her in checkmate once again.

Eleu stared me down, slowly leaning the broom against the closest wall. She spoke through gritted teeth;

“I am free in the evenings.”

——————

“No dinner plans? You’re telling me I just have to figure it out for myself?” Trevor groaned from the opposite end of the tiny hut. I shrugged.

“You’ll be fine! I just wanted to call my mom for a little while.” I knew the excuse would only work once or twice, but I decided I’d cross the bridge of others when I got there.

“This sucks.” Though he’d been ‘bummed’, Trevor was still busy trying to pick a pair of shoes to go out. “Not even gonna let me say hi to momma Drysdale?”

I shook my head and laughed softly at Trevor’s nickname for my mother.

“You’ll call if you need something though.. yeah?” I nodded.

“Promise me, Jimmy.”

“I promise.”

The moment Trevor was out, I was slipping on a hat and headed back down the beach. Though the walk was tedious, I did enjoy knowing I was getting some exercise in. I hadn’t been the most active during my injured period.

I found Eleu waiting for me sitting in the grass, not ever far from that building. I had a hunch it was a school building.

“Jamie.” I liked the way my name sounded from her lips. I also liked the way she looked under the glow of the sun.

“Hey.” I was just as nervous as the day we met. I wondered if I’d ever get comfortable around her.

“Come sit.” I did as told, finding a seat in the grass next to her.

“I do not like you.” I could only nod. We’ve established that already. “My tūtū insisted I do this.” My brow furrowed at the name. Another word I did not understand.

“Your…” I wanted to attempt the word, but I knew I would not say it well enough.

“Grandma.”

I quiet ‘oh’ fell from my lips in understanding.

“She suggested we start with Hula. It tells a story. We dance to worship the creator of our universe.” Eleu slowly turned to face me, and I found myself doing the same out of respect for the woman. My eyes fixated on her, but my mind was lost in the words she spoke. She told me about the ideals of her people presented through dance. She told me of the Gods they worship and the stories told. Both tragic and happy. Then she was up, and leading me down to the ocean.

I tensed. Her gentle hold on my hand almost slipped as I tried to pull away. She was quick to grip tighter. Eleu looked back at me, once calm eyes now expecting me to give up.

“I don’t like the ocean.” Her brow furrowed. She didn’t know what to say again. Caught off guard and in confusion.

“You can’t have land without the ocean.”

It was my turn to look confused.

“Water balances.” She turned it into a teaching moment. She grabbed the hat off my head and tossed it somewhere behind us. Eleu and I spent most of the sunset side by side on the wet sand. She taught me something she said she often taught the kids in her class. Simple, easy to follow and remember. But my heart fluttered all the same when she looked to me every so often to nod in approval. There was no music, but Eleu did hum occasionally. Her voice was calm. Relaxing. I still hated the ocean, but i understood her words a bit more as we danced.

“You never told me what story this one tells.” It wasn’t perfect. My dancing was far from it, but I thought I kept up with her fairly well.

“The tragedy of a girl who thinks the God’s sent her a man to love.”

——————

The next time I saw Eleu, she explained the depth behind the story. It was one of her own she said she often told the kids to teach them of the dangers of impulsiveness. We sat in the grass outside of the school building. Occasionally, Eleu would speak a Hawaiian word and pause. At first I hadn’t understood what she wanted, but we fell into a routine after the first few times. She was teaching me words even if I wouldn’t remember right away. When the sun began to set, she had finished off her tale. It was a tragedy.. she told me that.. but I still got a little choked up at the end.

I hadn’t worn a hat this time. Eleu disliked them anyways, and I figured a bit of sun wouldn’t hurt my face. Until I was squinting as we both looked out at the sunset. The golden glow was beautiful, but I could barely catch it. Until the breeze whipped through the tall palms and a frond blocked the blinding light.

“I think she is starting to like you.” Eleu grabbed my hand and pressed my palm into the grass, her own on top of mine.

——————

The third time we met, Eleu had promised something fun. Trevor was under the influence that I’d eaten something bad, and sickness was my excuse for staying behind. I had chosen to wear joggers instead of the usual shorts simply because it was supposed to be a cold evening. Eleu kept me out longer than I expected to be the last time.

When I caught her figure down the sand, I began to wish I hadn’t lied to Trevor.

“Surfboards?” I called. She was expecting me to go out there with her. In the ocean.

Eleu nodded. She met me halfway down the sand.

“Just one, and a paddle.” She held the paddle out to me. I nodded and took it from her hand. “Nothing too difficult.”

“I didn’t wear swim trunks.” I pursed my lips, shook my head, and feigned disappointment. She saw right through me.

“You wore boxers?” My cheeks flushed at the question. She was serious, but I’d lived with Trevor too long for my head not to drop into the gutter.

“Y- yeah..”

“Leave your pants here.” I hesitated at her words. “I won’t look. Ho’oma’ema’e. Respect.”

I barely knew this woman. It could have been a made up word. A made up moral. She could have been messing with me since the moment I approached her. But I trusted her all the same, slipping my pants off and tossing my shirt into the sand as well.

Eleu remained true to her word.

I followed her into the ocean, a quiet hiss escaping my lips at the chill of the water. And maybe the fear of the unknown. The only thing that helped was how clear the water was.

Once we were out far enough, Eleu told me to get on the surfboard. She did her best to balance out the weight by leaning most of her own on one end while I climbed onto the other. I sat with my legs dangling off either side. I wanted to pull them up, but Eleu explained it would be harder to balance that way. She also said facing my fears wouldn’t hurt.

Eleu stood on the other end of the surfboard, and it was only then that I realized we were doing nothing more than paddle boarding. It was relaxing. The ocean, I decided, was maybe okay.

Eleu didn’t do much paddling after a while, allowing the ocean to simply move us as it pleased. She still stood though. She seemed to prefer that over sitting. I didn’t mind. My back was turned to her anyway. But my sense of relaxation had been interrupted when I felt a splash of water hit my back.

“Excuse you!” I tried to turn to get a good look at Eleu, but nothing seemed to work. So instead, I scooped a hand into the water to fling it backwards at her. Eleu laughed.

I realized it was the first time I ever heard her laugh.

“Just making sure you were still awake, Jamie.” She teased, gently tapping my back with the end of the paddle. It’s then, that her laughter quieted, and my eyes searched the ocean frantically in concern. I waited for her to speak again. Had I done something wrong?

“What is this from?” The weight on the surfboard shifted, and I felt a finger graze the scar on my shoulder. I pursed my lips, shrugging. It’s not really a conversation I wanted to have. Not on my vacation.

“Freak accident.” It was all I offered, but Eleu picked up on my discomfort. She pressed a kiss to the scar, then moved back to where she’d been previously.

By the time we got back to the beach, I was rushing to make it ‘home’ in time to beat Trevor. I had by mere seconds.

——————

“My tūtū gave me these,” Eleu presented a basket full of what I could only assume were leaves. It was my second to last day on the island. We’d both been anticipating the day where I did leave, but neither of us wanted to treat it like it was real.

“She said they would be good symbols of luck when you leave.” I sigh softly at her words.

Eleu wanted to relax and do something calm that night. She suggested teaching me how to make leis, and I had gone along with her plan like all the others.

We sat on a folded out blanket in the grass. Outside the school building. I helped Eleu place everything out. I told her that I felt bad she went and picked so many flowers all on her own, but she said it gave her time to reflect.

We sat side by side, like the other nights before, though this time, her knee was practically up against my own. We were as close as we could get while she showed me the process of pulling stems off flowers, threading them on the string, adding other elements. Then she pulled out one of those leaves.

“A lei is a symbol of greeting, and connection. It’s also a symbol of friendship and celebration, and parting.” My eyes flickered between Eleu and the string she worked on threading with flowers.

“It symbolizes aloha.”

“I thought aloha meant hello?”

“I never told you it meant goodbye too.” Eleu presented the leaf with pursed lips and sad eyes. My heart hurt. I’d never see her again.

“This is a maile leaf. In our culture.. it represents respect, and blessing. Devotion, and friendship.” She smiled at me. “And love.”

Eleu was not one to elaborate very much. I learned that quickly. And from this, I learned two things. That her grandmother approved of whatever we had going on. And that Eleu had fallen for me as hard as I had fallen for her.

“I’ll miss you.” We could have stayed in touch, but long distance simply wasn’t going to work and we knew it.

“I’ll miss you too, Jamie.” Eleu gently placed the leaf back into the basket. I eyed it for a while before she urged me to join her, speaking playfully through her sadness, telling me that her lesson on making leis would have been for nothing if I just sat there.

She worked faster than I did. I struggled, but she offered great distraction with the sound of my name.

“Jamie.” I looked up slowly, brow raised in interest. Eleu had a white flower with brown spots in her hand. She broke a piece of the stem off and leaned forward. I watched her eyes as she tucked some of my dark hair behind my ear, then placed the stem of the flower there as well. My face felt like it was on fire.

I stared her down with wide eyes, a frown tugging at the corners of my lips. Eleu looked so unbelievably beautiful within the golden hour of sunset.

“The island has accepted you.”

“Wish it could have done that a little sooner.. before I had to go.” I admitted bashfully, my eyes falling to the ground.

Eleu shook her head. She rested her hand on my cheek and tilted my head up so I’d look at her.

“Im glad she took her time.”

The whispered words were the last off either of our lips before they connected. Kissing Eleu was as heartbreaking as it was euphoric. I loved every second of it.. and she must have felt the same, because it escalated within its own time. I didn’t mind. With girls back home, I might have been more hesitant to go for a one night stand. With Eleu? It didn’t feel so shallow. So ‘one night-ish’. We respected each other. We respected one another’s feelings and bodies. Everything was so gentle. So perfect. So secret. So intimate.

We laid together for what felt like hours after. Until my reality came in the form of a phone call from Trevor. He was worried, but I assured him I’d only been out to grab a quick drink before our last day together on the island. After he hung up, I bid the beautiful island girl goodbye.

“You promise you’ll come see me off on Sunday?” I had to ask. I wanted to make sure we would see each other one last time.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t the answer I had been seeking, but the response to my question came that Sunday. When Eleu was nowhere to be found, and Trevor was rushing me into the airport. Eager to get home while all I wanted to do was go awol and find the girl of my dreams.

The girl who didn’t even show up to see me off.

“Aloha…”

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#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale #Trevor Zegras #hawaii #Hawaiian au type style thingy going on?#tropical #Jamie’s a beach babe

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