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dirt-cup-draco · 4 years ago

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George x Reader- Don’t Judge a Book

Heyy hope you're doing well 💕 Could u pleease (if you're not too overloaded) do one with George were his family doesn't approve his relationship with the reader but at the battle she saves Fred. Very angst and the end is up to you. Your writing is incredible, be safe

George pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long and steadying breath as you stood before him. Your hands were planted firmly on your hips and you were shaking your head in frustration.

“I can’t George, you know that,” You refused his proposal, knowing it would only end terribly. You would be made a fool of and you had a hard enough biting your tongue as was. If you couldn’t escape, who knows what you might say.

“It’s the safest option here love,” George pleaded with you, legs spread and head thrown back as the conversation tired him out. He had just closed up shop for the night with Fred and now he was upstairs, trying to talk sense into you. “Mum said it was perfectly fine if you came and stayed with us,”

“Molly is lovely but I cannot be under the same roof as your brothers and sister.”

“Fred-”

“You know he doesn’t count when I generalize,” You sighed, wishing George would see things from your perspective. “The rest of them hate me, I’m just a no good slytherin to them and they will never be able to see past that. Especially right now, I’m going to be put under a microscope that has a broken lens.”

“They don’t hate you...” George weakly argued but you could see the gears turning in his head as he ran his fingers through his hair- pulling at the roots as if it would somehow make this conversation go away. “Things might be a bit touch and go but they don’t hate you, they could never hate someone I love,”

“Your mom could never hate someone you love but that means nothing for the rest of them. To the public all slytherins are death eaters, Voldemort’s army consists of only slytherins in their eyes. I might as well have a stamp on my forehead that says ‘Hi! I want to enslave muggles and kill the kids I grew up with!’. It doesn’t matter who I am or what I stand for, your siblings think I’m trouble,”

George stood abruptly, needing to be close to you. Wrapping his arms around you, you melted in his embrace. He kissed the top of your head and you nuzzled closer against his chest. “I just want you to be safe, and I think home is a good place to be safe,”

“I won’t stop you from going Georgie, but I think it’s better if I don’t stay at the burrow,” You decided for yourself. You wouldn’t be able to keep your sanity if you had to handle Percy asking you questions about your family, who they were and what they believed in. You’d go just as crazy if you had to feel Ginny and Ron’s eyes burrowing into your head as if they could kill you with a look.

“I won’t go either,” George tried steeling his voice but you could hear the hesitancy. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,”

Voldemort and his army surrounded Hogwarts as they all tried to bring down the protective shield that had fallen around the school. You jumped when a particularly powerful spell ricocheted off the invisible barrier. George’s arm tightened around you and you squeezed him in response.

I’m scared. You tried to convey as you looked to him with wide and wondering eyes. You had to memorize every freckle, every wrinkle. You had to memorize the color of his eyes and the way his hair went every which way. In case something happened, you wanted to die remembering every feature of George Weasley, you wanted to die remembering how he made you feel.

Me too. His sad expression spoke back to you and he kissed your forehead, lingering there. In case anything happened he needed you to know that he loved you and would love you forever until the end of time. Even death couldn’t put an end to his feelings for you.

“See you both on the other side,” Fred spoke, subdued yet intense.

I hope.

Your eyes burned with exhaustion and the constant threat of tears as you looked at the people you had known and loved falling down around you. The carnage and destruction seemed endless as you wildly searched for George. You had been planning to stay close but it was hard to stick to a plan during a time of war and you had inevitably been separated. You had to stay strong and find him.

You caught a flash of red hair in the distance and you picked up your pace, jumping over debris and dodging spells. You nearly fell when a spell was sent your way and you had to stop in your tracks and duck behind a large piece of wall that had been blown free from the castle.

Poking your head out from the stone shield you had found cover behind you were relieved to see that the Weasley was still in place. You couldn’t quite see who it was yet but any of them would bring you comfort at this point. You’d even let Ron pick a fight with you so long as it made you feel normal.

Once the coast was clear you were back to running through the grounds that had once been so peaceful. The closer you got, the more you assumed it was George that stood back against the wall, wand at the ready. Yet you realized a moment later that it was Fred. The part of his hair was different, they set of his jaw and the way he held his wand. You felt relief at the sight of your boyfriend’s twin but it quickly vanished from your system and you were choked out by dread.

“Fred!” You hollered, your legs carrying you faster than they ever had before.

Ginny was some odd yards away and she watched with suspicion as you chased after her brother. “Fred! Watch out!” She called, wand at the ready as she took aim towards you. The light burst from the tip of her wand but the spell was unsuccessful as you jumped, propelling yourself forward to avoid the spell and reach Fred in time.

The man whipped his head around at the chorus of his name, a question on his lips as you collided with him, sending you both sprawling across the pavement as you wrapped your arms around Fred, the momentum sending him on top of you. An explosion burst above the both of you, pebbles and rocks raining down on you as you rolled away from the majority of the wall that had broken apart.

The back of your skull came in contact with the cobble and you had to blink away the shadows that were rushing into your vision. Fred’s weight was uncomfortable on top of you and you groaned, shoving at him weakly.

“God Freddie, lay off the chocolate frogs,” You jested at the same time he uttered, “You’re bleeding,”

Fred helped you into a sitting position, his fingers searching the back of your head, coming away wet with the crimson liquid. You felt maybe a little dizzy, somewhat nauseous but fine otherwise. It was the sight of blood however, the knowledge that it was yours, that sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you slumped into Fred’s waiting arms.

The battle had ended and George was rushing around like a chicken with their head cut off. He hadn’t seen you or any of his family members in some time and panic had a vise grip on his heart. Ginny and his mother were the first he saw, waiting at the entrance to the school with dazed expressions. It was difficult to process what they had just been through, what they had achieved and what they had lost.

Ginny looked at George with guilt swirling in her stomach even if he didn’t recognize it. She feared how he would feel about her if he were to learn she had nearly cost Fred and Y/N their lives because of a prejudice that ran deeper than she had believed. If her spell had hit Y/N, they would both be crushed underneath a slab of wall right now. He couldn’t know.

George looked them over quickly as he approached and deemed them fine. “Where is she?” Was the first question falling from his lips and Ginny couldn’t seem to get the words out. Molly however was thinking quickly, unaware of her daughter’s thoughts.

“Your brother- Freddie knows where she is love, they were together,”

George nodded, kissing her temple and pulling Ginny into a quick hug before he followed his mother’s directions to find you. His stomach churned when he found those directions had sent his feet to the area where the wounded were being attended to, the dead being covered in white sheets.

“Are you wounded?” Came a meek voice and George had to shake himself from his intrusive thoughts to realize that Luna Lovegood was standing before him, hair tied up and a focused look hardening her typically whimsical features.

“N-No, I’m looking for-”

“Your brother is this way,” She assumed as she took a hold of his arm, assuming he needed the assistance. George looked a little lost and he had paled severely since entering the room, taking in all of the moaning and groaning bodies.

He let her guide him but broke free when he found his brother sitting on the floor, your hand in his. You were on a makeshift cot, a bandage wrapped around your head. Your eyes were closed, skin ashen. “Y/N-” He choked out, falling to his knees beside you. Fred gripped his shoulder with his free hand, sliding out of the way so that George could grasp your limp hand in his own.

“She’s fine mate,” Fred said first. “Bumped her head, just needs rest now that the bleeding’s stopped.”

“Bleeding?” George croaked, careful hands shaking as he trailed a finger across the outline of your jaw. Even now you looked angelic, with debris stuck to the palm of your hands and dust smeared across your forehead like your very own war paint.

“She’s fine George,” Fred promised again.

“How did she get hurt?” George asked, tearing his eyes from you to face his twin.

Fred winced, shoulders drawn up to his ears apologetically. “Savin’ me. I didn’t notice- well I don’t really know what I didn’t notice. Y/N called out my name, then Ginny. Then Y/N was barreling into me and we hit the ground hard. A second later the wall was collapsing onto where I’d been standing,”

George smiled, kissing your forehead as his family spotted all of you, approaching with relieved smiles. “That’s my girl,” He praised.

“Fred!” Ginny found her voice. “Is she okay?”

Fred watched Ginny for a moment, putting together quite easily what had happened. He’d never liked slytherins, detested them the same as any good gryffindor did. But then George had introduced you to him and his feelings had started changing. It didn’t seem the same thing had occurred with his siblings and they still had their beliefs against you. Ginny had thought him in danger, thought you had come to hurt him when in fact it had been the opposite. He could see the guilt swimming in her eyes and he felt pity. He couldn’t let his sister hold that weight over her head. “She will be,” He reassured.

George recounted the story of your heroics to his family even if he hadn’t been there and he hoped it would be enough to win your good favor. He refused to leave your side as you lay there, unaware that all of the Weasleys were standing around you and silently thanking you for saving Fred even at the threat of risking your own safety. You had proven a lot to them. George wished it hadn’t come with such a risk, he would always hold your safety above his family’s approval, but he tried to focus on the fact that you were just unconscious. You were just resting, he told himself as the thought was more comforting than the former.

Fred looked from his brother, then to you, and back to Ginny. “Everything’s alright, Gin,” He made sure she knew as he drew her into a hug, staring over her shoulder as he watched his brother fuss over you. “Just...don’t judge a book by it’s cover next time,”

For years to come you would be celebrated as Fred’s savior and loved as family, George having asked you to marry him the second you opened your eyes, still surrounded by the ruins of Hogwarts. Seeing his family surrounding you, a new appreciation in their eyes, you’d said yes.

Tag List: @angelinathebook @thehumanistsdiary

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george x reader #angst #fluff #ask #request #anon ask

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walkerwords · 4 years ago

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“She Keeps Me Warm” F!Reader x Tara Chambler

Summary: You had lived in Alexandria for about six months when Rick’s group arrived. The first time you meet Tara, she is everything and more. When she offers to help you search for you father who had gone missing months before, you take her up on the offer, making some new friends along the way and maybe even finding your person in the new horrible world.

Word Count: 6948

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert

Note: I don’t know why I am suddenly awful at summaries, but there you go. Essentially, I just love Tara so much and wanted to write an imagine with her. I miss her so much! I am in the process of filling another request but I wanted to post this one first. Love ya. ALSO let me know if you want to be added to my main taglist for all my stories!

-----

It had been nearly a week since you had been home.

You knew it was reckless and selfish for you to be away for so long without checking in, but any time you thought about going home, your father’s face would flash in your mind and you would tell yourself just one more day. However, as per usual, the world caught up with you and after taking a rather nasty fall and twisting your ankle, you decided to head home to Alexandria.

You could already imagine the look on both Aaron and Enid’s faces. It would most likely be a mixture of worry and disappointment. You weren’t sure how Enid was always able to say so much with just a single look. Perhaps it was all the time she spent on her own, just trying to survive. Whatever it was, you admired her even more because of it.

When you and your father had shown up at Alexandria with Aaron around six months before, you noticed that Enid was always alone. When you had asked Aaron about the teenager, he had explained that she had been alone when she came to the gates and that all she had said was that both of her parents had been killed by the Dead. You could empathize with her as you had lost your mother and brother at the start of it all. Then when your father disappeared, it had only tightened the bond between you and the girl. She was like the little sister you never had and you would die for each other.

As the gates of your home came into view, you breathed a sigh of relief. While you wanted to keep searching for your father, your bed and a hot shower were calling your name. As you rolled to a stop outside the gates, you honked twice, leaning out the window.

“Open the gate, morons!” you called. The disgruntled face of Nicholas appeared as he slid open the fence. You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes. The two of you had never gotten along and you really disliked the guy. He acted as if he was invincible to the new world, but you knew that if he was ever faced with a herd of the Dead, he’d turn tail and run. Pulling your car into Alexandria, you shut off the engine and climbed out. Nicholas closed the gate behind, latching it shut. “What’s new, Nick?” you asked, leaning against the back of the car.

“Aaron brought new people in,” he grumbled.

“And let me guess, ya don’t like them?” you said, already knowing the answer. Nicholas was never happy when people “invaded” his home. It was most definitely the reason he didn’t like you.

“They’re arrogant and proud and the leader is some kind of psychopath,” he spat. You considered his words, trying to imagine his face as this new group strutted through the streets of ASZ.

“They sound like my kind of people,” you grinned and he huffed, storming past you. Your eyes followed him, trying not to laugh at his immature nature when you spotted someone running towards you. You smiled even wider as Enid came jogging down the street. Her boots pounded against the pavement, her hair flew back behind her. Reaching you, she tossed her arms around you and you held her close, trying not to fall over. “Woah, easy there En, I’m operating on half a leg,” you joked.

Enid pulled back immediately, scanning you for your injury. “What’s wrong?” she asked, worried. You gripped her shoulder reassuringly.

“Just a twisted ankle. I’m all good. Few days of rest and I’ll be back one hundred percent,” you promised. Enid gave you a small smile as she relaxed. “Grab that other bag in the back, will you?” Enid nodded and went to fetch the backpack you had loaded up with some new clothes for the both of you. You weren’t looking for supplies, but when you came across an abandoned boutique, you couldn’t help but pick up some jeans, socks, etc for your communal closet back at home.

You hiked your own bag up onto your shoulder and then Enid was there, offering her arm as support. You gratefully slung your arm around her shoulders as you limped up the street. Enid looked at your shirt that was splashed with dark blood and wrinkled her nose. “Rough couple of days?” she asked.

“No more than usual,” you said, shrugging off your appearance. “I heard about the new people. Anyone interesting?”

“Haven’t really paid them any attention,” Enid said, looking at the ground.

“Meaning you’ve observed them from afar and you don’t trust them,” you said, easily seeing through her facade.

“They have a baby,” she said, looking back up at you, “and some of them seem nice, but I don’t know.”

“Well, Nicholas looked less than thrilled.”

“Not really surprising,” Enid scoffed. She hated Nicholas as much as you did, but she wasn’t as vocal about it as you. The two of you headed up the road, passing a few of the neighbors here and there. Since arriving, they hadn’t completely warmed up to you, but you weren’t a neighborly person before the Apocalypse and you weren’t going to start now. As you and Enid slowly made your way towards the center of town, you could see some of the new people. There were about seven of them milling around the gazebo talking to the Monroes. Deanna was explaining something to who you figured was the leader based on his stance and the way he stood at the head of his group. Aidan was by his mother’s side and Spencer looked as if he was trying to get the attention of one of the women, a pretty brunette who looked as if she’d rather lay in a pile of Dead than speak to him.

As soon as you were in his sights, however, Spencer pushed away from the woman and walked toward you, his arms spread wide. “Well be still my heart, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has returned to us!” he bellowed, strutting towards you.

“Gross,” Enid muttered under her breath and you had to bite your cheeks to keep from laughing. Spencer stopped in front of you and beamed down at you.

“Spencer,” you greeted.

“What’s wrong, you hurt?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I’m fine, Monroe. Enid makes a pretty great crutch,” you joked. Spencer laughed, earning a glare from the teenager at your side. He coughed awkwardly.

“If you need help, I could give you a lift home,” he said wagging his brows. Enid gagged and then started to pull you away from him.

“I think we got it from here!” You called over your shoulder at him. This time you did laugh, unable to keep a straight face anymore. “That is why we don’t have friends,” you whispered to Enid.

“We have Aaron,” she pointed out.

“This is true,” you agreed, pulling her tighter against you. As you passed Deanna, you gave her a salute. She then ushered you towards her and you begrudgingly nudged Enid over to your leader.

“(Y/N)!” Deanna greeted, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” you said as you tried to keep the weight off your bad ankle. Enid stood next to you quiet as a mouse and you squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, knowing how uncomfortable she was in social situations.

“This is Rick Grimes,” Deanna continued, gesturing to the man in front of her. “He and his family came here a couple of days ago. They’re actually staying in the house across from yours.” She then turned to Rick, “(Y/N) is one of our best fighters and helps keep this place safe.” Rick reached out to take your hand and you met him halfway. When you let go, you glanced down at your red smeared palm.

“Sorry about that,” you said sheepishly as you wiped the dried blood on your jeans, “I think that was from either an accountant or a really bad dressed lawyer.” A laugh came from behind Rick at your joke and you saw a very pretty brunette woman. Her dark eyes met yours and she awkwardly smiled at you.

“Sorry,” she said to Rick, “it was funny.” Rick shook his head at his friend, clearly amused. “I’m Tara,” she said with a small wave.

“Hey,” you greeted with a smile of your own. Turning your attention back to Rick, you grabbed your backpack strap tightly. “I’d love to talk more, but if I don’t get off this ankle soon, I’m going down and taking Enid here with me.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Rick said and you nodded to him. Enid, gripped you tight and started to pull you towards home.

“Bye!” Tara said as you walked away. You shot her another smile over your shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

“I like that one,” you said to Enid who just rolled her eyes.

------

As Rick and the others watched you and Enid leave, Aaron jogged up to the group.

“I just made a complete fool of myself, didn’t I?” Tara asked Abraham who clapped her on the shoulder.

“Seems that way, sugar plum!” Abraham said. Tara hid her face in her hands while Glenn patted her back in solidarity.

“Was that (Y/N)?” Aaron asked, looking up the street.

“She just got back,” Aidan told him.

“How long has she been here?” Michonne asked Deanna.

“What would you say, Aaron? Six months or so?” Deanna asked, turning to Aaron who turned his attention back to the people before him.

“Yeah, I brought her and her father here after that big wind storm,” Aaron said, nodding.

“Her father is here too?” Tara asked and then the Monroes and Aaron got quiet. “What?”

“He’s missing,” Aaron explained. “He went outside the walls about a month after they got here and then just never came back. That’s why (Y/N) goes out there so much. She’s looking for him.”

“He was a cop,” Spencer added, leaning against a lamppost. “She found his shield not that long ago, but that’s all the evidence we’ve seen.”

“Didn’t nobody help her look?” Daryl asked, sizing up the older Monroe brother.

“We did,” Spencer shot back. “But we can’t chase ghosts forever.” Aaron then shot an annoyed look at Spencer and Rick caught it immediately.

“(Y/N) has been nothing but an asset to Alexandria since she got here,” Aaron defended. “She has saved your life twice, Spencer, not to mention how she puts everyone else before her, especially Enid.”

“Enid’s the girl?” Michonne asked, remembering Carl mentioning her at some point. Aaron nodded.

“Enid wouldn’t talk to anyone after she got here. The girl had just lost her parents and it was hard even getting her to eat some days. Then (Y/N) had shown up and those two bonded immediately. They’re like sisters now.”

“Aaron,” Deanna interjected, “nobody is saying she isn’t important, but you know we all worry about her.”

“And you also know that until she finds him or a body, she’s not going to stop,” Aaron said before turning away and walking up the street towards your house.

“Aaron is very protective of them both,” Aidan explained. Rick nodded, understanding immediately. You and Enid were his family.

———

By the time the sun set, you couldn’t take being on the couch anymore.

Enid had gone off to do whatever she did when she disappeared either between the houses or beyond the walls. You had been worried about her at first, but soon learned to trust her to keep herself safe. You figured if she had survived all that time alone without any issues, she could handle it just fine in the surrounding woods. The only rule you had was that she had to tell you she was leaving and then get within your sights when she came back so you knew not to go trekking through the woods to find her.

Looking around the living room, you began to get annoyed with the vacant walls and pushed yourself to your feet. Shoving your feet back into your boots, you headed to the garage. You could already hear Enid’s chastising voice in your head as you ignored her earlier command of staying off your feet for the rest of the day.

However, boredom was not something you coped with well. Pulling up the large garage door, you clicked on the light switch and began sorting through all of your supplies. Anytime you came home with food, medicine, or essentials, you always put it in the communal storage, but anything else you found that wasn’t necessarily vital to the survival of Alexandria, you kept it in the garage.

It was mostly things you found on your way out of a place. Old records, obsolete technology, books, or even parts for cars, bikes, etc. It was like having your own thrift shop in your house and the miscellaneous items always gave you a bit of comfort. You figured it was because they all reminded you of how things used to be.

You were sorting through an old box of punk albums when you heard a knock against the side of the garage door. You turned to see Tara standing there, a small smile on her face.

“Hi,” you greeted, setting down the record in your hands. Tara clasped her hands together, gently rocking back on her heels.

“Hi, back,” she said and then cringed at her own words causing you to laugh.

“I’d offer you a beer but I think all we have is half-empty water bottles,” you said, leaning against the workbench. Tara chuckled and then began walking around the garage, looking at everything you had collected.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tara said, gesturing to your task. You waved her off.

“Ah, I was just trying to keep my hands busy,” you said, “Couldn’t take any more of my walls staring back at me as I did nothing.”

“How’s your foot?” Tara asked, gesturing to the bandage peeking out the top of your boot. Enid had expertly wrapped it for you when you had gotten home.

“Bit sore, but I’ve had worse, you know?” She nodded. “And what about you?”

“Me? My foot’s fine,” Tara said, confused. You laughed again and she blushed slightly. You couldn’t help the thrill that went through you at the thought that you made this beautiful woman blush.

“I meant, how are you doing here?” You clarified, gesturing around. “How are you settling in?”

“Oh!” Tara exclaimed, “Yeah, it’s a bit of an adjustment. We were on the road for so long and I don’t know, this is all very alien. Though, it is nice not to be looking over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure there aren’t any Walkers nearby.”

“Walkers? Is that what you call them?” You asked, intrigued.

“Yeah, well, that’s what the others called them when I met them and it just sort of stuck.”

“I suppose it’s a lot easier than saying Dead people or those things,” you said with a chuckle. “Walkers. I like it.” You both were quiet after that and then you coughed awkwardly as she stared at you. “Uh, Enid, she said you had a baby with you guys, how’s she or he doing?” Tara brightened at the mention of the child.

“She’s great! Healthy as ever,” Tara said. “Her name is Judith, she’s Rick’s kid, well his other kid. There’s Carl too.”

“Two kids?”

“Technically three with Noah, but he’s not a Grimes. He’s just a teenager we met in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago.”

“Sounds like you’ve had quite a couple of weeks,” you said, hopping up onto the table, crossing your ankles. Tara sighed as she walked over and leaned against the table next to you.

“You have no idea…” she said, her eyes a bit far away. “Any advice for livin’ here?” Tara asked, returning her attention to you.

“Stay away from Spencer?” You offered, causing her to laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s not my type,” said Tara.

“Good to know,” you said, staring down at your boots with a small smile.

-----

Once the two of you had gotten over the initial awkwardness, you found that you loved talking to Tara. She was kind, funny, and she always said what was on her mind. She had tried to walk back on some of the things she had said, but you encouraged her to never apologize for speaking her mind.

Along with Tara, you had begun speaking with the other members of her group. Glenn was the first person to reach out and start a conversation. You had been hanging out on your front steps when he had come out of the house across the street with his wife, Maggie, and introduced himself. Maggie was kind, but you had to admit that she intimidated you.

Then there was Michonne who had approached you about security measures. Deanna had made her and Rick constables for Alexandria. You weren’t sure why ASZ needed cops. It wasn’t as if any of the residents actually understood how the new world worked. You had explained that to Michonne, telling her that if the community was going to survive, then it’s original members needed to learn how it worked outside of the gates as well as in and breaking up petty fights and disagreements, wasn’t going to help their survival skills. She said she would take your advice to Rick and that was that.

The only other member of Grimes’ group you had somewhat of a conversation with was the hunter, Daryl. You hadn’t meant to talk to him, but Aaron and Eric had invited him over to their house to work on the motorcycle that had sat undisturbed since before the Turn. You had tried to figure out a way to fix the damn thing, but mechanics weren’t your thing. However, Daryl Dixon was all over it. He looked at the bike like it was the Holy Grail.

You had gone over to Aaron’s place in search of liquor when you found the redneck in the garage crouched down by the bike. “Finally,” you said, walking down the steps, getting his attention, “I was wonderin’ when someone was going to give that thing some love.” Daryl looked at you confused. “I’m (Y/N),” you said.

“I know,” he responded. “Aaron’s friend.”

“Is that what people call me?” you laughed making your way over to the cabinet at the other end of the garage.

“I don’t think it was meant as an insult,” Daryl said, getting to his feet.

“Never said it was,” you said, throwing him a wink over your shoulder. You opened the cabinet and pulled out a tucked away bottle of whiskey. Aaron and you had stashed them throughout both of your houses in places that both Enid and Eric wouldn’t be able to find. It had sort of become your inside joke, but you were pretty sure Enid knew about your hiding spots.

Cracking the top, you took a long pull. You then offered the bottle to Daryl. He hesitated for a second before shrugging and taking the bottle from you. He took a single sip and then handed it back. Daryl went back to the bike and you hung out for a bit longer.

It took you a bit to get him to start talking, but when he did, he wanted to know about ASZ and if it was what it seemed. You explained that it was safe and as organized as it could be, but you made sure to tell him not to drop his guard. “Nothing lasts forever and nothing is perfect,” you said to him. He said he'd pass along the message to Rick and the others and then you left, leaving him to his bike, figuring you had bothered him enough.

———

The next time you got Tara alone, she was sitting on the steps of Rick’s house. You were coming back from the armory when you noticed her. Her focus was on her feet as she played with a stray piece of grass. She looked up when your boots entered her line of sight.

“Someone is thinking hard,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Not really,” she said, smiling at you.

“Want some company?” You asked and she slid over, offering you space next to her. “But really, what is going on in that head of yours?”

“Glenn got into with Aidan today,” she said and you nodded. You had heard the commotion earlier, but you figured you should stay out of it and went to help Jessie fix lunch for Sam. You weren’t really surprised though, Aidan was a hothead.

“What was the fight about?” You asked.

“Aidan is an idiot and Glenn called him out on it,” she said, looking towards the setting sun.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Let me guess, Aidan and Nicholas were playin’ with Walkers again.” Tara smiled at your use of the word “Walker” and then nodded.

“So, that wasn’t the first time?”

“Nah,” you shook your head, “Found those two idiots doing it a few months ago. Playing with it like it was some kind of animal. I shot it in the head before they could screw with it any further.” Your firsts curled in your lap as you remembered. “They’re not just some thing, you know? They used to be people and the best mercy we can give them is to put them down.”

“Your dad?” Tara asked, guessing where you head is at.

“He was a cop, you know? A detective.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” Tara whispered. “Rick was a cop too.” That made you laugh.

“I can see that,” you said, playing with your fingers. “I’m not delusional,” you told her, looking into her dark eyes, near pleading.

“I know,” she said.

“I know he’s probably dead, but I just want to find him if I can. I owe him that much. I just want you to know that I’m not holding out hope that he’s still alive out there.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Tara asked. You gave her a small smile and reached over and squeezed her arm.

“No, I guess not,” you whispered.

“Well, next time you go out to look for him, come knock on my door,” Tara said, placing her hand over yours.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said.

“I lost my dad too,” Tara explained, “and my sister and my niece. I know what it’s like to lose people, but I know what happened to them. You don’t know and you deserve answers.”

“Thank you, Tara,” you said and you couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your chest as she smiled at you. Her dark hair blew in the slight breeze and with the sun slowly setting over the trees, she looked incredible. At that moment there was really only one thing you wanted to do, but of course, the universe had other plans.

Enid came jogging down the street and the look on her face was enough for you to pull your hand away from Tara. “En?” You called. She looked at you and the stress on her face had you turning to Tara.

“Go,” she simply said with a wink. You placed your hand on her shoulder quickly before crossing the street to Enid. You approached her and it looked as if she wanted to either punch something or lay in bed for a week.

“Let me guess,” you said, “Ron?” Enid just nodded and you took her by the arm and led her inside, ready to listen to her teenage drama and if needed, tear a strip off a teenage boy.

———

It was a couple of weeks before you took Tara up on her offer to accompany you outside the walls.

Enid was going with you this time as well. She had been trying to convince you to take her on your searches for months now. It was only after she made her case that she would just follow you anyways that you decided to let her tag along. When you two went to meet Tara, she wasn’t alone at the gate. Daryl, Glenn, and Michonne were all geared up as well.

“Are we havin’ a party?” you asked, approaching Tara. She smiled sheepishly.

“They wanted to help and I figured more sets of eyes are better than just three,” Tara said. “You don’t mind, do you?” Tara was looking at you with worry, afraid she had overstepped, but you were touched by the sentiment. Leaning forward, you kissed her on the cheek quickly.

“Not at all,” you said with a grin and moved past her to go open the gate. Glenn bit his lip to stop himself from laughing at the pure shock that had taken over Tara’s face. As Daryl went to get on his bike, the rest of you headed for one of the larger cars. You were going out a bit further this time. Closer to where your father had first disappeared.

You had been staying closer to ASZ in your search. If something had happened to him, you figured it was on the way back home and that you’d come across him, but so far there hadn’t been a sighting. “There’s a shopping complex about an hour North,” you said to Daryl who was going to lead on his bike. “It’s a straight shot up the freeway and turn off on exit 7B. The sign should still be there.”

“Alright, just hit the horn if ya need somethin’,” Daryl said as he straddled the motorcycle. He offered his fist and you tapped yours to it.

“Let’s get going before Spencer decides to show up,” you said, ushering everyone into the car. Daryl revved his bike and rolled out of Alexandria. You started the engine and the rest of you followed, waving to Eugene who was waiting to shut the gate behind you.

The ride was silent at first. Enid sat next to you in the passenger seat, reading one of her comics. Tara sat in the back between Glenn and Michonne, kicking her feet up on the center console. It was like a really weird scene out of a road trip movie. After a few more miles, Glenn started to ask questions.

“So what is up with that Spencer guy?” he asked, leaning forward.

“He’s annoying,” Enid commented.

“True,” you said, agreeing. “I don’t know, Glenn, he’s just the kind of guy that is used to getting everything? I guess the end of the world just made that impossible. Typical trust fund boy unable to be better than everyone else.”

“If he’s anything like his brother then he’s not going to last long,” Glenn said.

“At least Aidan is man enough to leave Alexandria. Spencer rarely leaves and when he does, I don’t think he’s ever fired his weapon, let alone killed Walkers,” you explained.

“He afraid?” Michonne asked.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “Though, to be honest, I don’t know him all that well.”

“(Y/N) mostly avoids him,” added Enid. You nodded in agreement.

“Also true.”

“And Deanna has been in charge the whole time?” Tara asked.

“Yeah as far as I know,” you nodded to her in the rearview mirror. “I think people just like to feel some sense of normalcy, you know?”

“Nothin’ normal about the world now,” Tara said.

“Don’t I know it,” you said, bumping her foot with your elbow playfully.

“Where were you before Alexandria?” Glenn asked.

“Here and there,” you said, “We moved around a lot. Never trusted people and it was always our luck that Walkers felt the need to herd up near us. I think the longest place we stayed in was an old movie theater just outside of Augusta. We were with a small group of people for a bit before we had to move on.” You could remember the look on your dad’s face when you had found that particular safe haven. He had thought it was a sign because of all the times you two had enjoyed going to the movies together. It was one of the last places you felt safe before Alexandria.

“Didn’t you sleep in the Aquarium?” Enid asked and you started laughing.

“That I did, En,” you said, remembering that particular night. “Word of advice my new friends, when the world goes to shit nobody is there to feed the animals and the tanks smell worse than an entire herd of Walkers.” Glenn howled in laughter at that while Michonne looked a little sick.

The rest of the ride to the shopping center was surprisingly pleasant. Even Enid was joining in on the random chatter that was going on in the car. As you drove, you kept your eye on Daryl ahead of you, easily maneuvering the broken up roads. You couldn’t believe that a bunch of strangers were willing to help you look for your father. It had been months of searching and you weren’t even sure if he was out there walking around. He could have easily fallen victim to the Walkers themselves. The thought that you were only going to find pieces of him made you feel sick.

Gripping the wheel tighter, you focused on the tail light of the motorcycle and just kept going.

------

Arriving at the shopping mall, Daryl suggested you all stay together.

Considering you didn’t want to be alone in the first place, you easily agreed. Walking through the many stores, you all took out Walkers that stumbled towards you. It was becoming routine to kill the monsters and it was as if your group was running on autopilot. Daryl always kept his bow loaded and Michonne kept her hand on her sword at all times.

You made sure to keep Enid close to you and if it bothered her, she didn’t say anything. If anything were to happen to her, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. She was the only family you had right now and you were determined to keep her alive at any cost.

About halfway through the mall, you were getting more frustrated. Blood was splashed over everything and you knew that something horrible had happened in the mall at the beginning of the Turn. You could easily imagine the screams and all of the people running as Walkers converged on the building. It must have been something akin to a horror film, you figured.

Leaning against the railing of the second floor, you looked down towards an old sporting goods shop. With the smashed windows and blood trails, you knew it was probably one of the first places hit. Hell, even you and your dad had raided multiple shops on your way through Georgia. That thought alone made you straighten up.

Pulling your gun from your holster, you headed for the escalator. “(Y/N)?” Enid called, but you ignored her, nearly jogging towards the metal staircase. You could hear the others following you, but you kept moving. Slipping over fresh blood and the occasional body part lodged in the mechanisms, you flew down the escalator.

Approaching the sporting goods shop, you froze, staring at the entrance. Someone had barricaded the main doors with displays and random pieces of furniture. The way the chairs were stacked and how the tables were resting so the legs were faced outwards told you everything.

Your dad had been the one to set this up.

Emotions overtook you as you rushed forward, pulling at the barricade, your hands manic, and your breathing hard. More sets of hands joined you in dismantling the barrier. You kicked out at the different supports and finally made a hole big enough to fit through. You wasted no time in squeezing through and raising your weapon. Enid followed you with the others right behind. Walking through the aisles, you kept your gun handy, ready to fire on anything that came at you.

You could hear Daryl knocking his knife against the wall trying to draw any Walkers out, but all remained silent. That is until you reached the back of the store. It was quiet at first. It almost sounded like it was farther away, but as you moved closer, the groaning noise increased. A part of you wanted to turn and run and not look at whatever was behind the fishing rod display. However, you knew that if you didn’t look, you would never get the sound of the groaning out of your head.

You slowly handed your pistol to Enid and unsheathed your blade. It felt as if your feet were made of lead as you crept towards the noise. Keeping your breathing steady, you stepped around the broken display.

Your heart dropped out of your chest and your knees buckled at the sight. “No…” you gasped as your knees hit the floor. Sitting before you, half chained to multiple chairs with clouded eyes and a snapping jaw was your father. A sob escaped your throat as he struggled against his restraints. Based on how he was chained, you knew he had done it himself. Looking closer you could just make out a deep bite mark on the side of his neck. “Dad…” you whispered, reaching for him.

“Careful, (Y/N),” Glenn whispered behind you. You pulled your hand away and then dug into the pocket of your jacket, producing a detective’s shield on a chain.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” you said, letting the tears flow more. You moved closer to him, keeping an eye on his gnarled fingers that pawed at your clothing. You raised your knife and tried to see any of the colors in his long-dead eyes, but all that stared back at you were two empty white irises. He reached for you again and you shoved him back, trying not to think about his crumbling skin under your hands. “I’m okay, Dad,” you told him. “I have a new family now and remember Enid? She’s my person now, you know? We’re looking out for each other. I promise.” Your tears dripped onto his body as you held him back. “You can go be with Mom now and Tyler, they need you more. I love you so much.”

Lifting the knife above your head, you let yourself look at him once more before plunging it down into his brain. He went limp immediately in your arms. Removing the blade, you then took the shield and looped it around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay,” you whispered and then fell forward, sobbing. Enid was there in a second, wrapping her arms around your back and holding tight. All you could hear was your own crying and Enid’s soothing voice.

You stayed like that for many moments, trying to grasp what was happening. You finally looked up as Daryl came toward you with a tarp in his hands. “We can bring him back,” Daryl said, kneeling down to your level. “Bury him properly.” You nodded, unable to speak. Daryl then gestured to the others and Tara was at your side helping Enid get you to your feet as Glenn, Michonne, and Daryl unchained your father’s body and wrapped him in the makeshift shroud.

You watched as Daryl and Glenn lifted your father’s body from the ground and carried him from the store. Michonne followed, carrying the crossbow and her sword. Enid and Tara never let you go as you followed them. You didn’t even remember getting back to the car. You could hear Daryl starting his bike as the body was loaded into the trunk. You sat between Enid and Tara in the backseat while Glenn drove with Michonne in the passenger seat. Enid held your hand all the way home, but you could feel Tara leaning into you as well. Halfway home, your other hand found hers and she gripped yours tight. You were right, you had found your new family.

-----

When you returned to Alexandria, your mood was soured further as Spencer was the one to open the gate.

“You need to tell people when you leave, (Y/N),” he said as you followed Enid out of the car.

“Back off, Monroe,” Glenn said, pushing past him towards the back of the car. Spencer then noticed how you looked nearly dead on your feet.

“What happened?” he asked, but became completely silent as he watched Daryl and Glenn haul the body from the trunk. “Oh.”

“Where’s Aaron?’ you whispered, keeping your eyes lowered.

“Home, I think,” Spencer said. You nodded and moved past him. When Enid tried to follow you, you put out your hand.

“I just need to see him alone, okay,” you said and she nodded, stepping back. You didn’t say anything further as you headed towards Aaron’s house. On the walk over, you couldn’t shake the images out of your head. Walkers were not a rare thing. You saw them every time you left Alexandria, but you had never seen someone you knew turn. At least not anybody close. The fact that he chained himself up to keep from hurting people hurt even worse. Even in death, your father was trying to be a hero.

Arriving at Aaron’s, you climbed the steps and didn’t bother knocking. You moved through the house, finding him sitting on the couch in the living room. Eric was nowhere to be found. “Hey, you,” Aaron greeted, looking up from his book. He then saw the tears on your face and tossed the book aside. “What happened?”

“He’s gone,” you choked out and then fell into the spot next to him on the couch.

“Oh, honey,” Aaron whispered as you lay down, your head resting in his lap. You cried as he smoothed his hands over your hair.

“We brought him home,” you whispered. Aaron, gripped you tight as he mourned the man as well. He had immediately liked your father and the two of them had instantly fallen into comfortable conversations when Aaron had brought you back all those months ago. “We’re gonna bury him inside the walls.”

“I think that will be nice,” Aaron said. “Maybe we can ask Father Gabriel to say something. You mentioned your dad was really religious, right?” you nodded. “And I can as Rick to help with a small funeral.”

“Rick?” you asked, confused.

“Well, he was a cop so he knows how funerals for law enforcement work,” Aaron explained.

“Dad wasn’t really a detective anymore,” you whispered.

“Still, he deserves to have a funeral. You do so much for this place, (Y/N), let us do this for you. For both of you.” You nodded and then held him closer as the emotional fatigue finally took you over. It wasn’t long before you slipped into the darkness and fell asleep, dreaming of the good days with your dad.

----

It was night by the time you woke up.

Eric had lightly shaken you awake, mentioning Enid had been looking for you. He had kissed your cheek and told you he’d look after Aaron as always and then offered you his condolences. You hugged him and then headed home. After sleeping and your talk with Aaron, you were feeling a bit better, but you knew it was going to take some time. However, you were grateful that you had finally found him and gotten the answers you craved so much.

If there was anything good to come out of all this, it was the knowledge that he was finally at rest and you didn’t need to worry anymore. That thought alone made you take a deep breath and tilt your head to the sky, feeling the cool air. It smelled like it was going to rain soon.

As you approached your home, someone was waiting for you on the porch. More tension exited your body as you saw that it was Tara. “Hi,” she said softly. You joined her on the steps and smiled to yourself as this began to be a regular thing. “How are you doing? Or is that a stupid question?”

“I’m...managing,” you said. “I guess all the emotions took me by surprise. Maybe because I never expected to actually find him.”

“I’m sorry you had to find him like that,” Tara said.

“New normal, right?” you asked, wiping at your tears that never seemed to stop.

“I wish it didn’t have to be,” said Tara. You turned to look at her and in the moonlight, she looked...ethereal. Reaching up, you tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, letting your fingers linger on her skin.

“Thank you for being with me today. Meant a lot,” you said. Tara reached up and took your hand in hers, folding it between both of hers. She then raised your hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. You sighed at the contact.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she whispered, looking into your (Y/E/C) eyes, and then she seemed timid.

“You are really something else, Tara Chambler,” you said, leaning in towards her. Tara met you halfway and as you pressed your lips to hers, warmth spread from your head to your toes. The kiss was quick, but it felt right. Pulling back you smiled at her softly. Tara wrapped her arm around your shoulder and you fell into her embrace. Tara ran her hand over your arm as she held you.

At that moment as you mourned your father, you found something full of light to hold onto amidst all of the darkness and she was so beautiful.

TAGS: @thanossexual

#tara chambler imagine #tara chambler #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #twd imagines #twd season 5 #reader #reader insert #Daryl Dixon #Michonne #Glenn Rhee #enid twd #Aaron #walkerwords

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skzsauce01 · 4 years ago

Text

42nd Moon Pt 12 (end)

Description: By some stroke of luck, you get off the waitlist of your biology class. You’d never have guessed you’d find your soulmate there, let alone that he already has a girlfriend… Or that he comes from a fraternity of werewolves.

Warning: mentions of death/killing

Word count: 2.2k

Pairing: werewolf!Hyunjin x fem!reader, werewolf!Jisung x fem!reader

Chapter List

You’ve been to every country on your list, quit your job, and tried every activity you’ve dreamed of. Now there is just one thing left to do.

I, L/N Y/N, being of sound and disposing mind, hereby declare the following:

A knock sounds at the door. It’s Jisung.

“Hungry?” he asks. “They’re ready outside.”

I have no children and declare no spouse. I appoint Bang Christopher Chan as personal representative of my will.

You tuck the paper you are looking at into an envelope while answering him. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

You hear him walk down the hall and knock on another door.

“Hyunjin?” he calls. “You coming?”

The sound of your chair scraping against the floor drowns out his response. You straighten out the envelope on your desk and make your way out of your room.

“Want a drink?” Minho offers as soon as you step into the fraternity house’s kitchen. Well, Chan’s kitchen as of half a year ago.

You decline, and the male shrugs and downs the contents himself. You watch him walk away with a small smile on your lips.

To Lee Minho, I bequeath $2000 to his Cat Rescue Foundation. May this monetary effort touch the lives of misfortunate kittens just like he has touched them with his heart of gold.

“How’s it going?” greets Changbin with a chin tilt. This party is intended to celebrate the man’s recent hire at some office job, but you all know the true reason behind it.

“Good,” you reply.

“Awesome,” he nods. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll be creaming Felix at some video games in the living room if you need me.”

“Hey!” objects the Australian. “We’ll see about that!” He flashes a grin in your direction as a greeting before racing after the other male.

You can’t help but laugh at their antics.

To Seo Changbin, I leave him however much it takes to repair his synthesizer and purchase a microphone set in hopes that he continues pursuing his musical hobbies.

For Lee Felix, I have purchased the newest gaming console so that he might always have something to bother Changbin with. I leave an additional $500 for him to one day adopt a dog from the shelter cafe he frequents.

“Fried or seasoned?” you hear a voice call out to you from the kitchen island.

You turn towards that direction to see Seungmin indicating at a few buckets of chicken. Despite his question, he’s already putting food onto your plate.

“Half-half,” you answer. “Thanks!”

He nods and hands you exactly what you ask for.

To Kim Seungmin, I transfer all ownership of my stocks. As a man of great intelligence and even greater ambitions, there is not a doubt in my mind that he will take these shares and multiply their values beyond their monetary ones.

“Fried please!” yells Jeongin as he runs up to you so quickly, you nearly drop your plate.

He looks up to you with a cheeky grin while holding you in a side hug before making his way to Seungmin for food.

To Yang Jeongin, I grant $1125, the amount required to apply to all the post grad programs he is interested in, even the one he gave up on despite it being his dream school.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You nod in response to the leader’s question. “It’s quieter than your college frat parties.”

Chan laughs. “Guess we all got old. Wanna sit?”

You nod again and follow him to the living room where most of the boys have gathered.

To Bang Chan, I bequeath all benefits of my insurance and whatever is left in my accounts. I trust him to use this disproportionately larger sum to benefit the future of his Mu Alpha Theta boys. I trust that he’ll always be by their sides, nourishing them like he has done up until now. I also trust that he will take a generous portion for himself, so that I may attempt to thank him for the stellar leader and friend he has been to me.

“So who’s winning?” you ask.

“Me,” Changbin answers. Felix’s laugh tells you to believe otherwise.

“Who cares? They both suck,” Seungmin scoffs, taking a controller for himself as he plops down next to you.

You look fondly upon the group of boys. Never in your life had you imagined meeting a whole fraternity of werewolves, but you are so glad you did. You look at your wrist; it’s almost the same colour as the rest of your arm now. You try to imagine what life would be like if you were any other office lady, unaware of the Mu Alpha Theta wolves and soulmateless. You could be downtown, enjoying a candle-lit dinner with a boyfriend or jamming to karaoke with some co-workers and not dying.

Yet you can’t.

You can’t imagine being anywhere else right now than in this room with your eardrums being blasted out by game jargon and having to be hyper aware of your surroundings because fried chicken can still fly across the room when it’s in the hands of twenty-some year old boys. You can’t imagine not having got off the waitlist of your biology class and not having met Jisung or your soulmate.

On the topic of Hyunjin, you frown realizing that he isn’t here. He usually stays at a friend’s with his daughter during events like these where the other boys are drinking-- it is actually a habit you initiated-- but you were still hoping he would come tonight. After all, it is the last time you would see each other.

After chicken and games, Chan announces that he has bought cake. Before you can even recognize it as your favourite flavour, Jeongin has already smeared cream onto your face, and thus a war begins with the most popular target being you. By some miracle, you end up with a proper slice in your hands after all the commotion, but by then, the boys have quieted down significantly, having been worn down by earlier activities or passed out from alcohol.

“Hey.”

You turn around while swallowing your last bite to see Jisung again.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Sure,” you reply.

He hands you a napkin and chuckles, “You might want some water to help you out. I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready.”

You take his suggestion and clean yourself up in the restroom. You giggle when you take in the damage the wolves have inflicted, but you don’t dwell on your reflection for long as to not keep Jisung waiting.

With your hand on the front door knob, you pause and take one last look at the house. Several boys lay asleep in front of a staticky television. The only one awake, Chan, looks up from his phone to shoot you a wink before looking back down, trying to keep things as normal as possible.

You look to your left for Hyunjin’s room. You wonder if he’s still awake and how he is doing since his soulmate is dying and all. You hope he will not miss you too much; at least he has Jisung again. Speaking of Jisung, you push open the door to meet him. He turns around with a smile to greet you as you descend the front steps.

To Hwang Hyunjin, I would like to give my sincerest apologies for making him go through the pains of being left alone once more. I know this will not compensate for his loss, but I leave for him my jewelry and gold. I pray that these gifts will ease the hardships of being a single father. Know that I leave more than just these earthly possessions; I also leave with you my heart and spirit. I am always with you and your daughter through every up and every down.

“Wanna go somewhere?” Jisung asks you when you join him on the pavement.

You shrug. “I’ve already been everywhere I want to. Do you have any ideas?”

“Actually, I do. Hop on.”

You wrap your arms around the neck of your personal werewolf taxi, and he takes off. The night wind blows through your hair, and although the moon is shy tonight, the city lights in the distance are enough to fill your heart. You hand brushes over the wolf’s fur, thanking him for the experience.

And to Han Jisung, the dearest and greatest blessing of my life, I know you wouldn’t want anything of monetary value from me, so I have left for you a memory box. In it, you will find my life: diaries I’ve written as an angsty teen, CDs of my favourite songs, my lucky charm socks that I save only for test days, my perfume, and more.

“Jolly Land?” you shout over the wind as Jisung easily hops over the gates. You are surprised at his choice, but not as surprised as when he starts climbing the twenty story ferris wheel, one carriage at the time until you have reached the top.

Oh, and please take care of Jolly Quokka. You are the reason why I have him, and he is one of my favourite memories I have with you. Please don’t cry too much, Jisung. Jolly will be watching over you for me to make sure you don’t!

“This is so illegal!” you laugh.

“Don’t worry, the werewolf council will cover up our tracks,” Jisung says while draping his jacket around you for the last time. “How are we supposed to explain the sudden death of a healthy young woman if she dies in the middle of a police interrogation?”

You are glad Jolly Land keeps some of its lights on after hours so that you can look around the park. You see a familiar stage and point towards it. “Look! That’s where we won the couple contest.”

Jisung leans over to take a gander before pointing at another spot. “And that’s where we got the headbands, and that’s the ride you forced me to go on.”

“And that’s where we had to sit for fifteen minutes afterwards because your legs were wobbling too much.”

“Hey!”

You both laugh at the memories. “I’ll miss coming here. This was a great idea; thanks for taking me tonight, Jisung.”

“No problem,” he hums.

“Which reminds me. Aren’t you afraid of heights? You couldn’t even take that roller coaster; how did you manage to climb up here?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Some things are worth being afraid over.”

You chuckle at his sweet words. “Things would have been simpler if I were your soulmate… Ah, sorry, that is insensitive for me to say,” you apologize.

“It’s fine. It’s the truth.”

“Still,” you frown.

He reaches over and gives you a reassuring pat. “Did you have a good life, Y/N?”

“I would say so, yeah.”

“I’m glad.” He pulls you closer, and you lean into your best friend and close your eyes. You can feel your clock ticking. You know Hyunjin can feel it too.

Ten.

Inside one of the rooms in the frat house paces a brown wolf as his child lays sleeping in her bed. Unlike what you had assumed, he has not left his room since you said your unofficial farewells this morning. Since then, only one question has dominated his thoughts: can he do it?

A sharp pain in his wrist reminds him of the limited time he has left.

Nine.

Jisung takes your cold hands in his, making sure you feel warm until the end. You shift in your seat to get a little more comfortable.

Eight.

A tear drips from his eye as he walks over to his daughter. The memory of you sitting beside him, stroking his back after his ex left replays itself in his mind. Then comes the memory of you waiting patiently for him outside the custody court. Then the memory of you holding his hand in the ER when his child’s fever spiked at three in the morning. Then the memory of you laughing with him when he drenched you both in water while trying to fill up a kiddie pool.

Seven.

You begin humming a nursery song, one that you often sing during the child’s bedtime. Jisung drums along with his fingers against your hand.

Six.

And then the memory of your arms around him in the forest. He was so close to losing you. So close to never holding you against him like that again. Hyunjin snuggles his daughter’s head upwards so that her neck lies between his two canines.

You will hate him for this. You will absolutely hate him for this, but Hyunjin has been giving you reasons to hate him since the day you met. It’ll be alright if you finally did.

Five.

Your fingers curl themselves into your palm as a sudden fear of what is on the other side creeps up your spine. Jisung moves to loosen the tension by interlacing his digits with yours.

Four.

Another teardrop lands on his daughter and wakes her up. She blinks a few times. “Daddy?”

That one single word pierces his heart.

Time is ticking.

Three.

“Jisung?” you whisper, lifting your chin slightly more towards him.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

Two.

But then there’s you, and he loves you. He loves you so much. There is no denying now. You are his soulmate, his heartbeat, his existence...

... And just a bite away.

One.

Dear readers! Thanks for making it this far and coming on this 42nd Moon journey with me! All your notes, comments, and asks really touched my heart. I used to think creators on this site were so dramatic with their thanks to their followers until I found out that THAT’S ACTUALLY HOW WE REACT. So thank you all so, so, so much! I hope to see y’all around here again! (maybe for another 42 moons? Hahaha). PS: Please send in asks if u have any! We’ll be replying with badly drawn pics :P ~ ad.gold SPECIAL THANKS TO AD.GRAY WHO LET ME PESTER HER DURING THIS WHOLE PROCESS! And for editing, but tbh I think my annoying-ness is worse. kekeke

#stray kids #han jisung #hyunjin #werewolf #skz #werewolf!jisung #werewolf!hyunjin #42nd moon #ending!#THANK YOU #purple #05312020

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bailey-whalieee · 4 years ago

Text

It Wasn’t His for the Taking

It was her gift to offer.

Request: Extreme Bucky fluff? 🥺🥺 I’m honestly bad with request so yeah—there’s that. @halietigges (I hope you don’t mind the little bit of smut!)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2667

Warning- reader being slightly taken advantage of, soft smut, fluff, & a soft cuddly/protective Buck

Also, this is my first time writing smut so, no judging!!

✮

Two sweaty bodies, a college frat party, and liquor.

Her body was smashed up against a random guy’s body. His hand ran up and down her clothed waist, tugging softly at the fabric that withheld a goddesses figure. A gift in wrapping paper. His touch was rough and he grabbed in all the wrong places.

Another grab at her ass.

Then a hand settling on her waist.

The other kneading her breasts like they were his and his only.

The liquor was clouding her judgement and she mistaken his hand for someone else’s. It was a touch she craved day and night. Y/n dreamt of his soft touches and his gentle demeanor.

The boy began to attack her neck with harsh kisses, suckling and biting at the sensitive skin with no remorse. And up the stairs they both went. Breathing heavily, practically clinging to one another.

Touching. Feeling. Squeezing.

Y/n felt the liquor slowly leaving her mind and allowing her to think more clearly. The guy had his shirt off and hands were fumbling with the button on her jeans. Her shirt had been thrown at the foot of the unknown bed.

This kid was ruining the gift.

He was shredding the wrapping paper that was supposed to be opened delicately and precisely.

One word fell from her lips. “Stop.”

It was loud enough for the boy to hear, but he didn’t stop. He continued to unbutton her pants and play with her angel skin, nipping at her neck every so often. She grabbed his hand to prevent him from pulling down her pants, but his hand caught hers and forced them above her head.

Y/n was sobering up by the second, the liquor practically disappearing from her veins. He was pulling down her jeans revealing the baby blue lace panties. A smirk forming on his lips as Y/n fought against him more.

“Stop-Let me go- I don’t want this,” she gasped, flinching in his grasp.

He didn’t stop.

Without a doubt in her mind, she crashed her knee into his crotch and kicked him off her. A shout of pain fell from his mouth as she rebuttoned her pants and searched for her shirt. She scanned over the room and still couldn’t find the shirt, so she left the party without it. Never minding the looks or the stares, she got as she exited the frat house.

The cold air nipped at her exposed skin. Her arms folded over her breasts in an attempt to hide herself.

Tears stung in her eyes as Y/n chased the pavement back to the tower where she would find him. She needed to tell him. Enough was enough. Y/n needed him. She had fooled herself into thinking someone else’s touch was his.

The clock struck one-thirty AM, and James Barnes laid wide awake. He stared at the ceiling panel awaiting for the moment he would hear her soft footsteps and the click of her door shutting.

She always came home after parties, and she never stayed out too late. Bucky knew her patterns. He always made sure she was safe and got home. Tonight, a sickening feeling washed over him and a pit of dread settled in his stomach. There was something off about tonight.

And, it made him worried.

There was no denying Bucky was completely and wholly in love with Y/n. He loved watching her face crinkle up as she laughed. Or, when she got frustrated a small frown would settle on her face and usually her face would flush a subtle red.

It was the small things that Bucky noticed about the women. But, Y/n was the first, besides Steve, to get close to him. She brought him plums from local farmer markets and made him dinner when the team was away on missions.

And then he found himself so incredibly in love there was no way he could deny it. Both were too shy to admit their feelings.

Bucky finally heard the pitter patter of her steps as she approached her doorway, but no click of her shutting her door. Instead he heard the gentle raps of her knuckles against his door.

Confusion filled the ex-soldier’s mind, but he immediately got up to answer the door. He opened the door and Y/n stood there, mascara smeared on her cheeks and shirtless.

“Y/n? Doll, are you okay?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrow taking in her exposed body.

Tears were swimming in her eyes as she watched him fully take in her appearance. His hand softly tapped on her chin, hoping that she would look him in the eye. “Doll, what happened? Most importantly, are you okay?”

She took two shaky steps towards him before smashing herself against his chest, where the fountain of tears erupted and spilled on James’ red henley. Without a doubt in his mind, he wrapped his arms around her allowing the tears to stain his shirt.

His metal hand found itself weaved in her hair, softly brushing through the mess of it.

“C’mon, let’s sit you down and get you a shirt before you freeze to death,” he snickered, trying to make her at least smile.

She gave him a crooked smile before sitting down onto his bed. He skimmed through his shirts trying to find one that would fit her best, but it was still going to swallow her whole.

“Bucky,” she started, “can we talk? I need to tell you something..”

He paused, turning around to face Y/n, who looked to be having a predicament inside her brain. Bucky nodded, giving her the greenlight to proceed.

“I-I’m in love with you Bucky.. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I just had to tell you. It’s eating me up inside and I can’t fulfill your touch with anyone else’s. I mistake every guys’ touch for yours and it’s never enough. I try to remember that we’re friends, but Buck.. I can’t keep it to myself anymore..” she blurted out.

The realization hit her right in the gut as she watched him take in the words she blurted out. Her arms crossed her stomach trying to cover her nakedness and she immediately got up, but a metal arms gently wrapped itself around her forearm.

“Doll,” Bucky smirked, “you should’ve told me earlier ‘cause I’ve fallen for you so hard, I don’t know what I’m going to do. And sweetheart, if you wanted my touch all you had to do was ask.”

A giggle fell from her lips as she wiped away the stray tears. Bucky cupped her cheeks with his hands and placed a kiss on her lips.

It wasn’t a harsh one, like the ones she had before. This one was soft and needful. It was crafted for her lips and hers only. Love circulated it and overflowed it. Bucky finally pulled away, wrapping his arms around her waist to tug her further against him.

He swayed her softly in his arms, even though there was no music, the gesture made Y/n’s heart flutter.

Y/n had finally got what she had been yearning for since the day she met him. Everything she ever wanted was wrapped in her arms, swaying her to the imaginary music above her. “So, are you going to tell me why you don’t have a shirt or is that a mystery?”

She threw her head back with a laugh, before quickly sobering up the chuckle.

“I was at the party and this guy came onto me, so I just went with it and then he tried taking advantage of me. I didn’t want it, so I kneed him in the crotch and took off. I couldn’t find my shirt, decided to leave without it,” she finished.

His jaw tightened at the thought of someone trying to come onto her. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? ‘Cause I swear to the gods, I’ll kill him. What’s his name? Where is he?”

Her fingers gently traced the tense muscles across his jaw. His eyes squeezed shut, taking a moment to calm himself.

“I’m fine, Buck. I promise,” she whispered, pressing soft kisses to his neck.

In which, he released to pent up tension he was clutching onto. His hands ran up her body.

Like silk meeting asphalt, his hands roamed her body. It was unlike the women he would bring here for a quick fuck to quench the thirst of lust. No, she made him thirstier. In a desert of heat, he could drink from her and still be thirsty.

He lifted her jaw, skimming his thumb over her watermelon pink lips. Her eyes locked with his, before Bucky smashed his lips with hers. A soft moan releasing from her mouth.

“James,” she breathed, looking into his ocean eyes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes widened slightly, “sweetheart, are you sure about this?”

Without a thought in her mind she answered him, “I saved it for someone special, and you're that someone. I don’t want anyone else. Please.”

He tugged his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. Y/n’s eyes roamed all over his body and admired the toned muscles on his abdomen.

“See something you like, dollface?”

She wasn’t able to answer, too captured by the godlike structure he had. It wasn’t even the lust talking at this point.

“You’re just so… beautifully sculpted,” awe transformed her face.

He chuckled, pushing her softly onto the bed. Y/n propped herself on her elbows watching as Bucky pressed kisses to his midsection. His hands rested on her hips, toying with the rough fabric separating the two of them.

“Is it okay if I take these off, darlin’?” he raised his eyebrow, seeing the hesitation on her face, “you’re in charge here. I want you to be comfortable, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me too, okay?”

She nodded, placing his hand on the jean buttons.

Bucky wasted no time, sliding the pants off her. The baby blue lace was revealed for the second time tonight, except with delicate hands this time.

A kiss on her thigh.

One above her pantyline.

Another on her stomach.

Then one more on her mouth.

Her hands tugged the band of his grey sweatpants. Y/n’s face flushed a red color as he smirked down at her

“Have patience, dear. We’ll get around to that in just a second,” he hushed at her whining, kissing her wrists softly.

Bucky pulled at the lace panties, looking at her for confirmation before completely pulling them off.

His pointer finger ran a stripe up her heat before fully pushing into her. A breathy moan released from her throat as he continued to pump in and out of her. He felt like a kid in a candy store.

She offered him everything he wanted.

Y/n’s stomach knotted as he picked up the pace. The pornographic moans that were escaping her, made the tent in his pants tighten with every sinful noise that fled from her throat.

He added another finger and soon her moans, turned into strings of curse words blended with his name.

And then bliss as she came down from her high.

His snickered at the shy smile on her face, “such pretty little noises that come from you, you know that? It’s like music to my ears.”

Bucky nipped at her neck sliding the sweatpants off remaining in his boxers.

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

She smiled before nodding.

“Ah, ah, ah, I gotta hear you say it babydoll. And I know for a fact that voice of you works,” he winked, teasing the woman beneath.

“Yes. I want this. Please?” she whispered, tracing the outline of the erection in his boxers.

Groaning, he let her hands roam at the forbidden location for a couple minutes before ripping the boxers off. The hard-on sprung and slapped against his stomach, her eyes widened at the length.

She unclasped the bra letting her breasts free from the cage she kept them in. Y/n kept her focus on his eyes. A nervous pit grew in her stomach as she began to realize she was really about to have sex.

“Y/n, baby, you’re too tense. Calm down, I’m going to take care of you. I promise,” the huskiness of his voice drawed her further towards him.

Y/n released the breath caught in the back of her throat and calmed herself.

He pressed the tip of his length in her sex stretching the muscle. Her face turned from pleasure to pain in a matter of seconds. Tears stung in her eyes, causing Bucky to stop everything he was doing.

“Shh, it’s okay doll. Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

She shook her head, “no, no. Keep going.”

He continued to push himself into her, furthering the fiery burn. Tears dripped down the sides of her, but were replaced with soft lips pecking the tears off her face.

Soon, the pain was replaced with pleasure and moans tumbled through her lips. “M-move, please Bucky,” she panted, gripping onto his bicep.

A guttural growl emitted from Bucky as she clenched around him. He could feel everything little clench or contract coming from her and it drove him crazy.

He adjusted the pace of his thrusts and slammed his hips into hers. Her back arched at the pleasure.

Bucky moved her legs wider, trying to get a better angle. Incoherent curse words flew from her mouth as her stomach tightened.

“Bucky!” she exclaimed, her fingernails dug into his skin, “I’m going to cum!”

He grinded his hips with hers, also feeling the intense pleasure wash over him. Y/n cried out beneath him, shaking from the thrill. Bucky pulled out, streaming hot white spurts over her stomach.

“Fuck, fuck, Y/n!” he shouted, clenching his eyes shut.

A thin layer of sweat covered both of their bodies. James immediately ran off to get a washcloth. Y/n honestly was sure she had blacked out for a second while finishing her second orgasm.

He soon reappeared with a warm washcloth, and began wiping off the mess on her stomach.

A whimper left her lips.

“Shh, you’re probably going to be sore for a couple days, but I’ll be right here if you need anything,” Bucky cooed, smoothing down the mess of hair on her head.

Bucky pulled on his boxers and slipped the red henley onto her naked body. Y/n clutched onto the super-soldier refusing to let go. He pulled her off rounding the bed. “You’re going to make me leave, aren’t you?” she whispered out, wiping the sleeves across her eyes.

He frowned, “doll? Unless I mixed something up, you are definitely more than just a one-time fuck. I love you, I want to be more than this.”

“Really? You’re not going to make me leave?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, chuckling, “c’mere, silly. It’s three-forty five in the morning, let’s get some rest. Then tomorrow we can go on an actual date.”

Y/n practically jumped into his arms and hid her face in the crook of his neck. He pulled the covers overtop of her and secured her to him with his arm, pulling Y/n as close as she could be to him.

His fingers drew patterns on her back, and pressed gentle kisses to her head every once in a while. Everything he ever wanted was currently wrapped around him like a koala, and he hoped she never let go.

“Buck?”

He hummed in response.

“It was never anybody elses to take, it was always yours. I love you.”

Bucky’s grip tightened around her and he kissed her forehead before saying, “I love you too, doll.”

✮

#Bucky Barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel smut #steve x reader #marvel x reader #bucky fluff #soft #bucky x reader!soft #Steve Rogers #steve x you

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volturialice · 5 years ago

Photo

twilight quarantine ficathon 2020

I’m late but here’s a thing I wrote

oneshot, 1.7k words

prompt

warnings: graphic violence, blood, minor character death

rating: T

pairings: gen

the mission

“You know your orders. Get in, get the girl, get out.”

Headlights flicker past the opening of the tunnel, making everyone’s shadows crawl over the walls, lengthened and distorted.

Riley keeps talking. “Kill whoever’s with her, but don’t get distracted. The girl is priority #1. Whoever brings her back alive will be rewarded.”

Bree can’t help but think all this “reward” talk would probably be more effective if they hadn’t just gorged themselves on half of Seattle’s homeless population. Whoever this human is, Riley is taking no chances that one of them will slip up and kill her.

He surveys the six of them, lined up like a squad of superheroes in a movie. Too bad the Spiderman kid wasn’t picked to come on this mission.

“Any questions?”

Kristie raises her hand like they’re in kindergarten. “What kind of reward?”

Typical. Of course that’s all these morons can think about, even with their eyes practically glowing with the blood of a fresh kill.

“That’s for her to reveal. Trust me, you won’t wanna miss out on this one.”

Translation: Riley doesn’t know. Bree was ready to ignore all the reward stuff and just focus on staying out of everyone else’s way long enough to survive, but now she can’t help but wonder what the reward is. Maybe it’s some type of special, super-mega-delicious blood, blood like they’ve never smelled before. Bree wouldn’t care, so long as she could feed alone. That would be the best reward—to be able to lose herself in the taste, the exhilarating red rush, without having to protect her back.

Why did Riley pick Bree to come on this mission in the first place? She’s half the size of the others. She thought she’d been doing a good job making herself invisible, acting meek and pathetic enough to be overlooked, hiding behind Freaky Fred night after night. It’s hard to miss Fred, exactly, but Bree wishes like hell he were on this mission with her. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so exposed, like she’s walking into a trap.

It makes her uneasy, not knowing the whole story. What’s the deal with this mysterious girl, and why do they need her alive?

Screw it.

“What’s so special about this girl? Why does…she want her alive?”

Riley pins Bree under a Look, like she’s the last person he expected to question him. Shit, she’s got his full attention now. So much for flying under the radar.

“I didn’t ask. We don’t question orders from her,” he says, a warning. “But if you want my best guess…I think she wants to change the girl. For her to join us.”

A groan goes up from the others. Another “soldier” means more competition for blood.

Idiots. Didn’t they notice how Riley avoided answering the first question? Since when does he go to all this trouble to change one lousy human? Riley recruits delinquents, addicts, desperate pickpockets and starving runaways—easy prey. He doesn’t bother with anyone who can’t be lured into a dark alley by the promise of a cheeseburger.

“All right,” says Riley, marshaling the troops now. “We all know the mission. I handpicked each and every one of you because I know you’re the best ones for this job.”

Bree catches Raoul side-eyeing her. Yeah, she doesn’t know why she’s here either. Riley fixes each of them in turn with a serious-business look as he talks.

“This is your chance to prove yourselves. I know you won’t let me down. After we pull this off, it’ll be unlimited blood for each of you. Now it’s go time. Get into position and wait for my signal.”

The others take off down the tunnel, already frothing at mouth at the mention of unlimited blood. Bree moves to follow when she’s cut off by a sharp command:

“Not you, Bree. Hang back a minute. I have a very special task for you.”

Nearly 1 AM. The smeared reflections of neon lights on wet pavement. The cinema is in a run-down part of town, its marquee lit up in garish reds and greens, advertising Face Punch 2: Knuckle Sandwich and Love Spelled Backwards is Still ‘Love.’ Whoever put the letters up ran out of E’s, so that it actually reads “Love Spelled Backwards is Still Lovc.”

The street is deserted—shuttered bodegas, a darkened McDonald’s, an empty pawn shop next to what looks like some kind of loan shark office. Missing posters flutter on a telephone pole—nobody Bree recognizes. Some unfortunate meal, most likely.

There’s a burst of sound as the cinema door swings open and two humans stumble out of the brightly lit lobby. Teenagers, not much older than Bree.

She zeroes in on the girl—white, brunette, and dark-eyed, totally average-looking. Whatever makes her special, it sure as hell isn’t visible to the naked eye. Does she have some sort of weird gift, like Freaky Fred? That has to be it. Why else go to all this trouble to kidnap and change her?

There’s a guy, too, but he doesn’t matter. His heartbeats are numbered.

Bree’s eyes find Riley, silhouetted on the roof, a shadowy figure looming above the marquee like a gargoyle. He gives her a single nod. Showtime.

Bree is across the street from the cinema, in the mouth of an alley that smells like piss and rotten garbage. At Riley’s signal, she heaves a pitiful sob.

“Whoa,” says the guy. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

God, humans are useless. Bree sobs louder, hunched forward in a pathetic ball. She tries to remember what it felt like to cry for real—her face hot and wet, pressure building in her head, heaving the air from her lungs until her chest felt raw. The only constant now is the burning in her throat.

“Oh shit, it’s a kid.”

With her hair falling into her face, Bree knows she looks even younger than her real age. She hears the human take a step toward her, pulling his companion with him.

Bree tries out a fake sniffle. It earns her a few more steps—the guy’s. The girl is hanging back, hesitant, poised on the edge of the curb.

“I don’t know…”

Bree can practically hear Riley’s voice in her head: focus! You know what’s at stake here!

She heaves her most heartrending sob yet, a quavering, abject sound that makes her hate herself a little.

“Come on, it’s just a kid. Are we supposed to leave a crying kid out here?”

That’s right. Take the bait.

The girl heaves a sigh and steps off the curb. Still hidden under her hair, Bree hears rather than sees the humans approach.

“Hey there. Are you ok?”

Bree looks up at the guy, watches his eyes widen as they scan over her face. What is he seeing? She remembers how Riley looked to her that fateful day with the cheeseburger—movie-star hot, like unreal hot. She had thought to herself, no one should be that beautiful—that it was unfair. Maybe she’d jinxed herself.

Now she gets to her feet, slowly, clumsily. She swipes roughly at her eyes—shit, did the human notice their color?—dashing away imaginary tears. “I’m lost,” she says, letting her voice hitch just a little. “I…I was walking home and my phone died.”

The girl is still hanging back, peering at Bree over the guy’s shoulder. Not good enough. Bree takes a step backward, into the alley. “I’m sorry. I’m—I’m fine.” She shrinks away from the Big Scary Human Male.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” says the girl, stepping around him. She holds out her hands so Bree can see she’s not a threat. Closer…closer…at this distance the girl’s warm scent hits her like a wave, making her throat burn even though she’s just fed.

Alive, alive. Bring her in alive. The back of Bree’s neck prickles under the weight of six hidden, red-eyed gazes. It was stupid to make seven vampires compete for one human girl and expect her to come out unscathed. They’re gonna tear her apart the second Bree makes a move.

Unless she makes a different move. It’s a complete contradiction of her orders, but maybe there’s a better plan here. Maybe she can have her cake and eat it, too.

Faster than the humans can see, Bree darts out—don’t breathe, don’t think, just do it—and rips.

The guy hasn’t even had time to feel her nails tearing out his throat before she’s tossed him behind her, into the alley.

Shocked silence—then the human girl’s high, piercing scream as five many-limbed shadows erupt from their hiding places to descend on her companion. The guy can only manage a pathetic, choking gurgle.

The scream cuts off as Bree claps a bloody hand over the girl’s face—gently, gently, don’t cave it in—and yanks her around the corner.

Guttural snarls erupt in the alley, drowning out the wet tearing sound—an arm?—and the clatter of stone limbs on pavement, on each other, amid the biting, ripping frenzy.

Riley appears at Bree’s shoulder and she almost snarls at him—back off—my prey—no, not prey. Still holding her breath, she shoves the girl into Riley’s arms.

“Well, well,” muses Riley, lip curled the slightest bit as he inspects his quarry. “That was unexpected. Not quite what I had in mind, but you’ve done well. I’ll be sure to let her know who’s responsible for this victory.”

Thank fuck, it worked. He’s not angry. Bree almost lets out the breath she’s been holding, until a sickening crunch from the alley reminds her not to.

The human girl is shaking like a leaf, hyperventilating. “Wh—what’s—I—I don’t—please—”

“Sshhhhh,” soothes Riley. “Don’t worry. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Riley grins over her shoulder at Bree, like they’re sharing a joke, and Bree finds her own lips curving up in response. Victory, he’d said. The reward is all hers.

The girl blinks up at him. Beneath the shock and terror, something flares in her face—recognition.

“R…Riley? Riley Biers?”

Riley’s grin widens.

“Hello, Jessica,” he says. “Long time no see.”

#goldeneyedgirl #twificathon2020 #bree tanner #riley biers #twilight fanfiction #graphic violence //#minor character death //#blood //#fic: mine #apparently i can only write horror! enjoy #2020 ficathon

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pilot-boi · 4 years ago

Text

Shouting in Cafes: Chapter Seven

Highway Skyline

They’re burning down the highway skyline, on the back of a hurricane that started turning when they were young.

AO3 LINK

Neptune made a point to carefully open the car door and get inside. The car was… Nice. Surprisingly nice. The seats were clean and smelled like lemons, the floor mats were spotless. No trash. No stains. Sun was checking his hair in the rearview mirror.

“Huh,” Neptune said, not fast enough to hide the surprise in his voice.

“What?” Sun asked, freezing.

“It’s nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No beer bottles.”

“Wow, dude. I’m hurt, truly,” Sun said, pressing a hand to his chest in a facsimile of hurt. Or maybe it was real hurt. He could never tell with this guy.

Neptune supressed a laugh at his performance. He couldn’t afford to let Sun see him be happy. That would mean he was winning, and they weren’t friends. Nope. Totally not.

“Ready to ride?” Sun asked with a smile that said danger.

“Just… here? We’re going way over the speed limit here?”

“It’s fine!” Sun waved him off, adjusting his mirror and shooting himself a grin in the reflection. “There are never any cops or pedestrians here. Don’t worry so much, Neptune!”

“I have to worry. That’s the only way you won’t freaking kill yourself.”

Sun laughed, and he did have a nice laugh dammit. A laugh that made you want to laugh along with him. Neptune barely restrained himself from doing just that.

“Okay! Here we go!”

Sun was out of that parking space so fast, Neptune thought he might get whiplash. He stopped the car just as quickly, then started it up again before either one of them could get their bearings.

“Su- Su-” Neptune stuttered out between the breaks, his nails digging into the leather and his glasses threatening to fly off his face.

“Aw, see? We are good friends!” Sun called over the purring engine. “We’re already giving each other nicknames!”

“Shut up!”

The pavement screamed underneath them and Neptune watched his life zoom past. Oh, look, there went the time Scarlet knocked his head into the terrible birthday cupcake he got him and Neptune had sprinkles dropping out of his hair for at least a week.

Sun bucked the car onto the empty street and took off, wind tangling in his hair and eyes open wide. The trees turned into green blurs, the buildings into only smudges of paint on a blue backdrop.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Neptune yelled and promptly sealed his mouth closed. Air poured down his throat at top speeds and with it most likely a million bugs. No thank you, this was terrifying enough all ready, he didn’t need that.

The road bumped and threatened to make him bite his tongue off. And he needed that, thank you very much. For screaming, if nothing else.

“You know, you sure do take the Lord’s name in vain a whole lot,” Sun said as casually as if they were out for lunch. He pulled out some sunglasses and tucked them into Neptune’s hair without even asking. Yellow reflective aviators. What had he really been expecting?

“I’m already Catholic! It’s fine!”

“I’m not really sure that’s how it works,” he said conversationally as he pulled on a pair of honest-to-God fingerless driving gloves. He was going to die. Forget getting in a crash, his heart was going to stop.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Neptune screamed. Sun had started fishing around in the space between the cupholders, and his face was turned completely away from the road to do it. Neptune’s heart raced. Street signs smeared. Sun’s speed neared one hundred.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Cool your jets, dude! I’m just grabbing some tunes!”

“We’re going to die!”

“Oh, so now we’re a we?” Sun quipped, winking at Neptune and still not even glancing at the road that his car was practically devouring.

“What the hell are you talking about?! Just keep your fucking eyes on the road, you absolute maniac, or I’m going to have an actual stroke!!” Neptune screamed, his lungs in his throat and his heart hammering in his chest. He was going to tear the leather upholstery with how hard he was gripping it.

Sun laughed. Laughed! Like they weren’t doing something highly illegal and could die at any second! “We’re not gonna hit anyone! Hey, dude, do you dare me to beat one-fifteen?”

“No!”

More laughter. That laughter was going to be the last thing he ever heard.

Sun finally got what he was looking for. He wiped the CD (who still used CDs?) off on his tank top and popped it into the player. Big band jazz music blew from the speakers, the bass cranked up because of course it was. Still. Jazz? Trumpetey, 1920s, New Orleans jazz?

“What the fuck is this?!”

“You really lose your censor when you’re out of work,” Sun said, leaning casually back into his seat, seemingly ignoring his hair flying in every direction from the wind, and facing directly towards Neptune to speak.

“No, I don’t! I think it’s the life or death situation I’m currently facing!”

“My driving isn’t that bad,” Sun pouted, his eyes wide again. Damn those eyes, how dare they look like they’d been plucked straight from a noon day sky.

“Shut the fuck up and stop giving me those puppy eyes! Keep your goddamn eyes on the- You almost hit that sign watchoutwatchoutwatchoutwatchout holy fucking shit!!”

Neptune’s face was suddenly freezing, what with all the blood draining out of it and all. His hand had made its way to his heart somehow, bunching up in the fabric, while his other arm pressed up against the car door as if that would help if they hit something. If he had a heart monitor on, it would read well over one hundred.

“Puppy eyes?” Sun asked, said eyes lighting up once again and that fucking grin spreading across his face.

No. Oh God no.

“It’s a thing you do, Shut up a-”

“You noticed a thing I do?” He sounded delighted. God fucking dammit, what the hell?! Neptune was having a fever dream. That was it. He was dying of a horrible sickness, and this was the torture his brain had conjured up for him.

“Dumbass! Holy shit! Please just focus on the road!”

Sun sped up.

“No. No no no nononono!!”

“Yes yes hell fucking yes!!”

Neptune glanced over. Sun was grinning from ear to ear. A spot light that split the darkness. A smile for punching the sun, for setting off illegal fireworks just to have some color in the sky. A smile for street racing at unimaginable speeds just to bond with a barista he barely knew.

“You’re actually planning on killing me,” Neptune panicked, at whatever could pass for a normal tone of voice in this death trap. “If this was a trick to kill me, congratulations, it’s fucking working!”

Sun had the audacity to laugh. “I’m actually going to die in this neon blue convertible with a maniac at the steering wheel!” Neptune yelped, the calm demeanor his horrified realization had brought gone in an instant.

“Wow, you’re morbid!” Sun laughed. “Chill out, dude! I just want to get a little air!” His grip tightened on the steering wheel and he leaned forward as if that would make them go faster.

“A little…?!”

Neptune un-squinted his eyes and focused on the road up ahead. Sure enough, there lay a steep hill that Neptune had somehow managed to forget about. How could he? He drove up it every morning and back down it every night. It made your stomach fly up into your throat even at regular speeds.

“This is suicide!” Neptune cried, gripping his seat belt tight enough to snap it right in two.

“Not if we don’t die!”

“If we don’t die, we get arrested! That’s not better! You get how that’s not better, right?!”

“How is dying better than getting arrested? Besides, there are never any cops here!”

“You’re insane!”

“We’re almost there!”

“I’m going to vomit! Seriously, I swear to Go-”

“Hold on!” Sun yelled, teeth bared in a face splitting grin and eyes bright with manic fire.

Everything in the car went flying, including its passengers. Miraculously, that flight was only an inch or so out of their seat and not through the windshield. Still, the experience of rocketing over a hill at hundred of miles per hour speeds while bass-boosted jazz blared out of the speakers was a unique experience that Neptune never wanted to repeat.

Neptune’s seat belt caught him as he threatened to fly overboard. Sun was cheering his head off, Neptune was too terrified for any sound to escape his throat. His voice seemed to have been left on the pavement below.

There was a split second where he could have sworn that time froze and he was able to watch Sun’s huge eyes crackle with electricity and excitement. The red leaves of the trees on either side of the road swished with the new wind. The road beneath them blurred, the center lines losing all meaning. All within half a second.

But then their tires bounced once, then twice, and finally they were on the road again.

And Sun was grinding to a halt.

And swerving into a ditch.

He let the car turn completely sideways, pressing down hard into the brake. Dirt flew up around them along with clumps of grass and a few pieces of Neptune’s remaining sanity.

They lurched forward, then stilled.

And Sun hollered. “Holy shit that was awesome!!”

Neptune’s voice returned. “Am I dead?” he asked, frozen stock still in his seat, too scared to move.

“Not yet, bro!”

There was silence for a moment. Then a laugh bubbled out of Neptune. And another. And he was grabbing at his stomach in an effort to control them.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” Sun chuckled.

“I guess,” -a laugh break- “I save them for near-death experiences!”

Sun giggled a little. Then he joined, too.

Both of them clutched their sides with the laughing, and the more Sun laughed the more Neptune laughed because his laugh was so infectious it was annoying, but Neptune couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed. It faded in and out from high pitched snickers through his teeth and tongue to deep roaring claps of thunder. Woodland pixie. Hearty ship captain.

“Why the hell do you have bright yellow aviators, dumbass? That’s so lame!” Neptune cackled, pulling them off his head and wiping tears from behind his glasses.

“Why the hell do you have blue freaking hair? Like, more blue than my car! What the fuck?!” Sun pointed out before sputtering into more indistinguishable laughing.

They both slid down further and further into the leather seats, their shoes resting on the dashboard, the occasional putter of laughter from one of them sending both back into a laughing competition that their sides couldn’t handle anymore.

The wind messed up Sun’s hair. Bad. All that gel helped when it was styled correctly, but when Mother Nature had her way with it, it turned into a hot mess. Or just a mess. It splayed out around his head, combining with the straw yellow color and making his head look like he’d jumped into a haystack and a fan at the same time. The back just stood off his neck, straight up in the air like someone had just ordered it to attention.

He kept running his hands all through it. Like it helped. Neptune probably didn’t look that great either.

Sun’s chest was heaving with laughter and adrenaline, and there were bright pink spots high on his cheeks. His sparse freckles dotted under his flush and speckled like constellations across the arms brushing back his hair. Bright yellow hair framing eyes like drops of sky.

“Do you want me to take you back to your car?”

Neptune opened his eyes. Woozily, he addressed his surroundings. Sun was inches away from his face, eyebrows pressed together, one hand climbing through his messy hair. Had they been…? No. No stop. Neptune had just passed out from exhaustion and Sun was waking him up. That was all that had happened.

How late was it? The orange and pink shades of sunset scraped against the tops of the red-leaved trees that closed in around them. It shone through the gaps of the trunks in slats that blinded Neptune momentarily and lit up the flecks of gold in Sun’s blue eyes.

What was happening?

Sun just asked him a question. Focus Neptune.

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” He thought for a second. Sun was still really close to his face, and for some reason his thoughts were moving more slowly than normal. He could count the individual freckles speckling his cheeks. “I won the bet.”

“It wasn’t really a bet. Just an agreement,” Sun murmured, his eyes flicking over Neptune’s face as if trying to memorize it.

“Sure, sure, but I survived.” He was too close. Why was he so close?

“Yeah,” Sun said, finally leaning back and rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “Am I really that bad of a driver?”

“Don’t make me start laughing again.”

Sun smiled bright enough to light up a dark room and clapped a hand on Neptune’s shoulder before starting up the car.

His hand was warm. Calloused and huge, and warm. Neptune definitely did not glance down at it.

Nope. Totally did not do that.

#rwby #neptune vasilias #sun wukong #seamonkeys #mine #my writing #coffee shop rwby #writing wednesday #chapter 7 #shouting in cafes

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lavoie-susie · 6 years ago

Text

You Became His

Yandere Strade (BTD) x Reader (Character belongs to @gatobob )

Read on Ao3

Summary: It was his smile that drew you in. Friendly and full of life. Innocent.

It was his smile that drew you in. Friendly and full of life. Innocent.

You noticed him from across the lively bar, he was talking to someone. His voice loud, deep chuckles mixed with a faint German accent. You watched as someone came to collect the person the man was speaking to, you assumed he was the boyfriend. He was tall, his muscles rippling through his shirt. The man’s smile dropped as they left.

As he turned back to his drink at the bar, you continued to watch him. He wasn’t doing anything particularly interesting, nursing his drink, speaking to the bartender. But for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off his form.

He spun around in his chair, surveying the room. His eyes met yours, widening as he smiled at you. You turned around, biting your lip in embarrassment. Your eyes trained on the table, hiding in the booth you sat in. Your fingers, picking at your fingernails. A nervous habit.

“Hey there!” It was the man, he leaned over the table, his contagious smile on show.

“This seat taken?” he asked, already sliding into the seat.

You shook your head anyway, a shy smile coming to the surface.

“Here, I bought you a drink. You seem nervous… drink up! It’s on me,” the man chuckled.

You took it from him, albeit carefully. You knew it was dangerous to take drinks from strangers… but he just seemed so cheerful and innocent. No one with a smile so genuine could be a bad person.

“Thank you… Oh sorry, I didn’t get your name?

The man stuck out his hand, “Name’s Strade! Yours?”

You took his hand, gripping it weakly, “(Y/N).”

“Nice to meet ya, (Y/N)!” He watched as you shyly avoided eye contact, retreating your arm back into your personal bubble.

“Aw, no need to be shy! It’s just me,” he smiled.

You apologised.

Strade was nice, a little too friendly and touchy, but you didn’t mind his company. But, it was getting late. You didn’t want to be out for too long. His company made you feel warm and wanted, he complimented you, blushing himself when you did the same. He was so inviting, you just about spilled your whole life story to this stranger you met in a dingy bar.

It was… nice. Your face ached from smiling. Your stomach felt light, shoulders relaxed as you laughed at another one of his jokes. But all good things had to end.

“Strade… thank you for a lovely night, but I have to leave now… Gotta hit the hay and all,” you smiled.

Strade nodded, “Nice meeting ya!”

He waved as you made your way outside. You waved back before shouldering the bar door open. Shivering at the cold air, you pulled your coat tighter, rubbing your arms in an attempt to create warmth.

It was dark, the only light coming from the dim streetlights and the moon. It was calm. Serene. The cobblestone pavement was covered in dirt, bottles of all sorts of alcohol tucked into the corners. No people in sight, you could hear muffled sounds coming from a nearby dumpster, but you decided not to check that out. You didn’t need a hungry animal fighting you for food.

You wandered down the street, shoes clicking against the ground, taking in the unpleasant sights with a smile on your face. You had had an enjoyable night with Strade, you almost wish you would be able to see him again.

Arms constricted around your waist and throat, a hand clamping over your mouth as you were pushed into the closest brick-wall of the alleyway. Your screams were muffled, attempts at escaping unsuccessful.

“Are you gonna be good? Or am I gonna have to force you… hm?”

You frowned, shaking your head as you bit hard into the hand forcing in your screams for help. The man swore, his group loosening.

“Scheisse!” Blood rose to the surface of where you had bitten, angry red spilling from his hand.

Sparing no more time to watch him, you took off. Throat dry, legs burning and anxiety filling your gut. The stomping of his heavy steps following close behind you, his angry grumbling. If he caught you, you didn’t want to think about what he would do to you.

The sound of his steps paused, but only momentarily as a heavy weight tackled you to the ground. Hands found your wrists, knees pinning your back down, trapped. A blunt force hit your head, black spots filled your vision.

You startled awake, immediately struggling in your apparent bonds. Your wrists ached, the bonds that bit into your hands felt coarse. Probably rope. The room was dark, you could vaguely make out the blurred shapes of tools. Stairs, there was minimal light coming from the staircase, but enough for you to identify the cool ground as concrete. Memories resurfaced from the night before. Pleasant chatter, laughs, anxiety, pain.

Strade.

You glanced down. Fully clothed… without a jacket but it wasn’t too cold. Even your shoes were still in place. You breathed a sigh of relief. You crinkled your nose, it wasn’t obvious before, not was it even very prominent now, but you smelled something… coppery?

A door slamming and the stomping of boots on stairs preceded your flinch. Heavy-duty boots came into view, you shuffled backwards against the pole you sat against, pulling on the rope. The room was suddenly lit, the sound of a light switch registering after.

“Hey! You’re awake. Finally,” the man smiled. Strade. “How ya feelin’ there? Hungry? Thirsty?”

You shook your head, not trusting whatever he would give you.

He was eerily calm, maybe excited? That contagious smile. It made you nervous.

“Aw… shy? No need to be!”

You shook you head, breathing evenly in an attempt to calm yourself, “Sorry… I- can I ask why I’m here…?”

Strade placed his hands on his hips, he looked sort of heroic. “Ah… You see, we’re going to have a very… intimate experience! I promise you’ll enjoy it, does that ease your nerves?”

You didn’t reply.

You squirmed, nervous energy filling you.

Strade wandered over to his tool shelf, surveying the options with a hum.

“Hmmm… because I like you, I’m gonna give you a choice.” He chose two options.

One, a large hunting knife, the other a sharp hook. Fear coursed your body, fight of flight kicking in as your eyes widened and you swallowed. Dry.

“I… I don’t want either…”

Strade chuckled, his eyes showing his displeasure. “Hey, come on. I’m being nice, giving you a choice. You’d better choose before I decide for you!”

Slowly, you pointed at the knife. It would be better if he killed you with the knife, rather than toy with you with the hook.

But unfortunately for you, you would not be dying today.

His eyes shut, pure glee overtaking his expression. Sharp canines, shiny with saliva. The sharp clang of the hook hitting the hard ground startled you, shaking you to your core.

“Please stop. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything!” you pleaded, tears spilling over your cheeks.

A wolfish grin, eyes sparkling. “Anything? Take off your clothes.”

Slowly, you shook your head. He leaned in, angling the knife near your thighs, threatening you wordlessly. As he leaned in, you butted his head, pushing him over before straddling him. His grip loosened, the large knife dropping to the ground with a clatter.

Your hands tightened around his throat, his own pulling at your wrists. His eyes bulging as his face became red, his legs kicking as you heaved breath after breath, trying to keep your strength in your hands. Red morphed into purple, his hands loosened, his legs stilled. You took your hands off his throat slowly, full of caution. His body lay still, tears filled your eyes, spilling over onto your cheeks. You shuffled away, head in your hands.

It was in self-defence, you argued with yourself. You had killed him, but he wanted to kill you. You couldn’t just let it happen. Pain exploded in your skull, and you saw black.

Waking up the second time was less ceremonious than the last, though this time there was a dull ache pounding in your head.

You recognised your surroundings. The same dirty floor, the large variety of dangerous-looking tools, that copper smell. Now that you looked around more, you noticed the splatters of crimson that stained the concrete floor surrounding you. Blood.

“You’re awake. You know…you’re lucky, don’t you think? Even after you so brutally attacked me, I had to fake passing out, I was always told that I was a good actor, I’ve kept you alive! You’d better be thanking your lucky stars… thanking me!” That predatory stare, trained on your weak form.

His eyes narrowed. “Thank me.”

Quietly, you responded, silently cursing the tremor in your voice, “Thank you, Strade.”

Nodding, he pulled out a large hunting knife. The one from earlier, you recognised. You shook your head, but he ignored you.

He haphazardly cut away your skimpy clothes, nicking your skin, ignoring your gasps of pain. You were left in your underwear, tied up, bleeding and completely at his mercy.

“Mmmmmmmh… So unbroken, so beautiful.” He trailed his fingers over your thighs, “Look at you… shaking for me…”

The sharp knife sliced through the skin of your thigh, pulling a deep groan from the depths of your lungs. He shook too, but his looked as though it was from excitement. Blood spilled over your legs, the wound was deeper than you had realised. He stared intently at you, warmth splotching over his cheeks and throat.

“You… fuck.”

The pain came after your scream, he had raked the knife over your thighs again, shoving his fingers inside the wound and smearing the blood in harsh circles. He leant forward, shoving his face in your hair, breathing in deeply. It hurt, fuck it hurt. Your thighs throbbed, the ache spreading through your legs.

The blade was tossed behind him as he pulled out your legs, your wrists still tied behind your head. You laid on your back, the warm feeling of your own life-force pooling underneath you. His rough hands ripped your underwear from you, uncaring of the ruined fabric. Fingers covered in blood were forced inside you, eliciting a ragged shriek of pain.

They pumped in and out, ignoring your pleads for him to stop, to slow down, to go away. Biting his lip, he began fondling your sensitive privates, rubbing and stroking until you were sobbing and begging him to stop.

“(Y/N), I can’t wait any longer… I need you, I’ve been watching you for so long. Fuck, you’re gonna stay here with me.”

His fingers were pulled roughly pulled from your depths, your whine of relief was shortly lived before he was shoving his cock in, filling you up. His groan filled you with fear, and… want. “Strade, no stop!” you begged.

You gasped as he thrusted in with more force, his hips meeting yours with harsh smacks. His girth filled you up, stretching you and bringing tears to your eyes. He leant in and bit down on your sensitive neck, drawing blood.

He groaned in your ear, moist breath tickling your throat. Each time he pulled out, he would thrust in harder. “Fuck… you feel… fuck.”

“Sto-aaah!” Your screams echoed in the small basement.

It felt so good, yet it filled you with disgust. You couldn’t deny the pleasure.

You moaned as he slowed down his thrusts, teasing you. “Aw look at that… your hips don’t stop.”

It was true, his movements paused and yet your hips kept thrusting up, searching for more, begging to be filled. His movements were more drawn out now, denying your climax. Broken sobs filled the room, his strong hands grasping your hips with so much strength that you were certain that you were already bruised.

“Keep going… please don’t stop,” you cried out, as a result of Strade’s minor movements.

“Look at you… so ruined, broken, begging and sobbing like a bitch, just for me…”

He sped up his thrusts, fucking you good now. Slowly unsheathing his cock only for him to thrust back inside, basking in your moans.

His movements stuttered, cock twitching and pulsing. Warmth filled you, his cock squelching as his cum oozed out of you.

It was the sound of your defeat.

You heaved breaths, throat hoarse from your screaming, lips bitten raw and face stained with tears. You attempted to catch your breath, flinching as cool metal slid around your neck. Opening your eyes, you looked up at Strade. He was smiling down at you, hands caressing the collar-like object around your neck.

“It’s a gift, something special so that you know you’re mine! All mine, no one else’s… I’ve been waiting for this day, I’m so glad it worked out! I bet you’ll love Ren.”

With that, you knew you would never be able to leave.

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secret-rendezvous1d · 7 years ago

Note

maybe another idea could be that they meet for the first time in twd? so they basically had their own life before and meet then. they first don’t obviously trust each other at the start but survival is their main motive so they decide to stick together? it would be kinda cute that he’d care to keep her safe even not knowing her personally xx

Wherever she goes, he’s there.

He’d been following her every move since she’d made a brisk walk through the deserted town that he’d been staying in for the passing few nights. Dead bodies littering the streets, blood smeared across the pavement, blood splatters on the windows of derelict houses, tire tracks on the roads from quick getaways, and the corner shop having been broken into for supplies. From then on, he’d not been far behind her. Following every move she made, making sure she was in a safe environment, looking around for anything or anyone dangerous, killing from afar before she had the chance to save herself.

At first, she thought he was just finding a way out of the empty town. Hoping that he’d side off down a different path, a different route, so that she was left to fend for herself - because, having someone else tagging along brought more than just a look-out for herself. Except, when the afternoon rolled around and he was still scuffing along behind her, kicking up stones and leaves, she gets the feeling that she’s no longer travelling alone. That she was no longer on the survival route on her own.

“Why are you following me? Why are you committing yourself to me? What is it that you want from this? Is this your way of stalking some prey? Do you want to get in my pants or something? Do you want me to suck you off? Because, the world is ending, buddy. We’re all suffering from a little bit of sexual deprivation,” she grumbles, “there’s no time for blowjobs and there’s no time to find a fuck-buddy, okay? I don’t know about you but, I want to survive. I don’t want to die.”

“And you think I do? You think I want to die? Because I don’t. I’m terrified. I’m physically petrified of what the world has become, okay? You’re the first human I’ve seen in 3 weeks. The first person to walk through that town and show that there is life out there. The first person who doesn’t want my flesh for food,” he bites back, eyebrows furrowed on his brow-line, “you’re the first person that made me a feel a bit safer because I wasn’t on my own.”

“You don’t know who I am! I could be some killer. Before this happened, I could have been in with murders and killing. I could be the kind of person who uses you as bait. Who leaves you behind to save my own skin. You can’t trust me because I’m a stranger to you,” she hisses, taking longer strides to create a space between the two of them, “you’ve been following me all day but you’ve barely spoken to me. You’ve barely wanted to get to know me. You don’t show any signs in wanting to work through this shit together. If you’re desperate to tag along with someone, at least make them feel safe around you.”

“I just didn’t think you wanted to talk. Silence is the way to live nowadays, isn’t it? I didn’t want to bring danger to you, or myself,” he whispers softly, looking down at the tattered white converse boots that were tied loosely to his feet. No long crisp white and covered in mud and twigs and he’s sure there’s a little blood clinging to the material. “Something drew me to you. Seeing you all alone. I’m not the type of man who leaves a woman alone. Especially when they’re in danger. We may not have morals anymore, but, god. That doesn’t make me any less of a gentleman.”

“Newsflash, I’m not in any danger. I’m not the only one fighting in this world. I was doing fine before you.”

“I’m scared, okay?” He hears her snort with laughter and his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “That might be funny to you but it’s not. A man showing emotion, showing people that he’s scared, that he’s terrified. Go ahead and laugh. But, I lost people, okay? I lost my family before my very eyes. I watched my sister leave for supplies and never come back. My mother lost the plot and ended up killing herself. I had to kill my father in order to save myself. I lost my friends to these creatures. I’m alone in this world, and that terrifies me, and I thought you’d be okay with me being around. I thought you’d want someone to help you survive.”

There’s a pang of guilt that swallows her. Her footsteps coming to a stop along the dusted track. No longer creating any sounds, no longer stretching the distance to find somewhere safe to stay for the night, no longer feeling like she could do this on her own. Because it wasn’t just her who was suffering the longing ache to find someone so she didn’t go crazy with the loneliness that came with losing the loved ones that she tried hard to fight for.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, twisting around and looking in his direction, “I’m trying my hardest to stay alive, to prove a point that I’m not some prissy girl who can’t cope in life or death situations, and I didn’t realise I was being selfish in the process.”

She searches his face for an answer and frowns when his features stay set in stone. Gulping nervously as he raised the gun that sat in the holster upon his hip. Panic spreading through her veins, filling her quick, causing her legs to shake and her hands to clench into fists with sweaty palms. Her eyes clenching shut as she waited for the blow.

“You don’t need to-”

There’s a bang that sounds, muffled by a silencer, except she feels nothing. Her eyes cracking open at the sound of something… someone… falling behind her. Straining to look over her shoulder as she saw a zombie, fresh and just days old, crumble to the floor. Hitting the ground with a thud

“Will you let me stay by your side?”

She nods. How could she say no? His feet beginning to move down the track they were proceeding upon, at a speed that was comfortable for to be able to catch up to, walking ahead of her as she followed in his footsteps.

“M’Harry, by the way.” xx

#i kind of really love this au...#if you want to send more... please do #walkingdead!au #harry talk #harry styles imagines #harry styles concepts #harry styles blurbs #harry styles au

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jflashandclash · 7 years ago

Text

Attrition of Peace

Thirty-Four: Ajax

Still Not the Creepiest Way I’ve Been Hit On

Getting hit by a car wasn’t originally on Pax’s bucket list, but he decided to add it and a happy checkmark on his mental record.[1]

He had run away from the fight, leaving the steam, flames, and storm behind. Percy and Leo were too enraptured to notice him. Well, Percy probably noticed, but whole flaming taco torpedoes deal was a bit distracting for him.

Flaming Taco Torpedoes: a great name for a band, and a great name for both the best food experience and worst bathroom experience of your life.

That’s when the Paxmobile sidelined him, taking him off his feet and onto the pavement. Breaks squeaked. A familiar voice shouted, “Cho!” from an open window. [2]

Pax wanted to wallow in misery and whine, “Ow!” loud enough for Croesus’s son to hear, but got a half a second of wallowing before almost getting stomped.[3] Pax rolled to the side to avoid a golden hoof. He found himself between the Paxmobile’s front and a distressed automaton donkey’s rear. One definitely ready to kick.

“Holy Titans—Ajax! Help!” a voice called beside him. Jack was trying—unsuccessfully—to scoot away from the hooves using his jaw.

For an instance, Pax didn’t feel like he could move again. Weirdly, hit by a vehicle wasn’t in his repertoire of things he was mentally prepared to handle. He snatched Jack’s head by his hair and rolled them away from Luke the Donkey’s shuffling feet, hearing a pancake-smashing pang from where his head had been.

Pax stayed crouched on the ground panting as Jack blathered, “—barely hit us. How am I supposed to write a sonnet about that?”

The driver’s side door slammed shut and Axel took two long strides to them.

“Ajax—that—that is you,” he said.

Axel knelt beside Pax and cautiously ruffled his hair, which showed a strange amount of resistance. Pax didn’t understand Axel’s confusion until the caramel locks fell all over his arms and shoulders.

He was still Calypso.

Pax opened his mouth to speak but felt like his words were made of too many marshmallows—normally an awesome problem if he wasn’t struggling to express himself. Finally, he managed, “I think I look like a pretty princess.”

“Yea,” Jack complained, “And like someone I used to bang. It’s weird and uncomfortable for everyone.”

Pax tried to laugh that off. He knew he should change back, but the thought of it made him tremble. How easy would it be someone else forever? To walk away and create a new identity, complete with a cool back story and costume change.

A chilly breeze wafted the scent of flames to him. Trees had collapsed. Windows on nearby houses had shattered. Panels had ripped off. Shingles were aflame. Pax hoped their cab driver had gotten out of here okay and wasn’t a sizzling pile of demigod collateral.

“I wish I could make rainbows appear,” Pax said. He stared through Axel’s firm expression. He thought about the tears that spilled down Leo’s cheeks, the ones that evaporated immediately into the night air, about how Leo had screamed in pain. “Or be really awesome at weaving. Or make people want to party. I—I h—hate being… I hate being able—”

Axel pulled Pax into his shoulder with one arm.

Pax choked on a sob and clutched at his brother. As he wailed, he felt the hair along his shoulders recede, becoming lighter until his normal jagged length returned. The cute work jacket morphed into a sweater and bronze breastplate. He was him again. Just a stupid, horrible godly thing that… that was meant to…

To hurt those I love the most.

No wonder Axel was going to play pin-the-dagger-in-the-demigod with Pax’s hand.

“Aw, my boys just need to hug it out. Axel, Ajax, pull me up against your shoulders to simulate cuddling,” their decapitated friend requested.

“Nope, we’re good,” Axel answered.

Pax had to agree. As desperate as he was, he just found his line on where he’d go for affection: corpses or undead things.

Axel withdrew, making Pax want to cry more. He ruffled Pax’s hair again, puffed up his cheeks, and popped them.

“Why did you hit me with your car? Was it because of the Reyna-condom thing?” Pax asked. As far as he was concerned right now, there were plenty of other reasons to hit him with a car, but he figured that’s the most likely one for Axel. After all, Axel was too awesome a driver to do so on accident without some major distractions.

Pax glanced over Axel’s shoulder towards the van, noticing how a stalk of corn had sprouted through the open driver door.

“Euna—” Axel started uncertainly, apparently willing to overlook the Reyna-condom thing in Pax’s current pathetic state.

“—turned into corn,” Pax finished for him.

“Something is wrong with her,” he said.

“I’d be upset too if I were turned into corn. That would be like reverse engineering for our people.”

Axel scolded. Before Pax could dodge, Axel snagged his ear and twisted it.

“Aye! Okay! No mercy for the sacrilegious!” Pax whined. His voice almost sounded normal again, only cracking once with physical pain instead of emotional.

“We need to get out of here to meet up with Calex and Merry—before others come for us,” Axel said, “It shouldn’t take too long to get to camp since we can use… donkey travel.” Axel looked annoyed at having to say it.

Although Pax knew Axel was trying to distract him, he wondered how often Axel said stuff like that to distract himself.

Not that someone like Axel would ever need to pretend everything was okay since he could warp reality with his sheer awesomeness… but in a universe where Axel was less perfect, Pax wondered how often Axel kept a poker face when he felt like the world was crumbling.

Axel shifted like he was going to throw Pax over his shoulder. From the way Axel’s arms shuddered, Pax had a strange feeling Axel would struggle to lift a kitten right now due to battle exhaustion.

“Don’t try to pick us up. You’ll kill all three—“ Pax paused to stare at Jack. “Two of us? Jack, are you dead? Should I consider you dead again?”[4]

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted, then proceeded to use that grating gurgle of a voice to sing the lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. If Jack had shoulders, Pax knew he’d have shrugged.

The Pax brothers helped each other stand up. Pax felt sore from the car hit, but not Hercules-punched-me-sore. It was more like a little car love tap. Something Pax felt like Hephaestus would do to Aphrodite if he could.

Axel hesitated, then picked up Jack by his dirt-smeared red hair.

They needed to build Jack a carry case. Or at least a towel. Pax could imagine it now. “Nice pet carrier. Is that a cat inside?”

At least they’d have the best Halloween prop ever.

They shuffled towards the back of the van, listening to Jack as he supplied some entrance music.

Before Axel opened the doors, Pax could hear Euna’s icily tight voice, “—to wear off by now. It won’t stop though. It’s so loud—it’s too loud—”

When Pax saw the inside, he gasped.

The far corner of the interior, behind Axel’s driver seat, looked beautiful, or as beautiful as a beat up utility van’s interior could look. The carpeting near Euna’s feet was covered in mosses, ferns, and flowers. Vines had wrapped wildly about her legs, torso, and Backbiter’s scabbard, like nymphs had given her a makeover. Pax couldn’t tell that Euna was sitting on a bench until she slammed her fist into the frame with a solid crunch. Some of her moss indented to show where she’d damaged metal structure under the cushions and plants.

Her legs were pulled up against her chest. Her other hand covered her ear. There were pieces of bent precious metal littering the moss in a circle around her. Her black hair trembled with each of her twitches.

Kally was in midstep towards her, one hand clutched tight to her chest, like Euna had tried to bite it when Kally reached out.

The look on Alabaster’s face said he’d slap Kally if she tried to pet another rabid demigod. Well, he would, if his hands weren’t decorated in the world’s most expensive blocks.

Relief washed over his and Kally’s faces when they saw Pax, making Pax feel the tiniest bit fuzzy and less dead on the inside.

“Ajax, rouge satchel. Vial seven,” Alabaster instructed before the fuzziness could fully settle.

Pax’s muscle memory kicked in before his brain did. As he hopped into the van, he could envision the Witch Boy’s ingredient cabinets at Camp Othrys. All the powders, preserved skins, miscellaneous liquids, and bones had been color and shape coordinated since his little half-Mayan lab assistant could barely write his own name let alone read Latin nomenclature. Back when Pax had a place in life, had a full family, and all he had to worry about was how he and Matthias were going to prank Prometheus when the Titan kept predicting every whoopee cushion and paint bucket that they set up.

When Pax regained focus of the present, he had his hand in one of the satchels around Alabaster’s neck, and was withdrawing a rounded vial with two dots and a bar along the side.

A vial of pills.

Pax stepped towards the trembling daughter of Demeter. “Euna, these will make you feel better.” He paused. “Or kill you.” Pax glanced back at Alabaster. “These are going to make her feel better, right?”

“Ajax,” Alabaster growled.

“Right, question after potential crisis.”

A vine snaked from Euna’s leg to snatch the vial away from Pax. Apparently, she was on the act now, think later train with whatever was “too loud.”

The vine squeezed the vial until it shattered into her palm. She caught some of the raining pills.

“Only take two,” Alabaster snapped.

Pax hoped she’d heard before she tossed her head back. No water necessary.

The pills worked fast.

Euna went rigid for a moment. Then her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed back into the plant-filled bench, her black hair spilling across her face. Her skin seemed to glow dimly in the van’s yellow light.

Kally hesitantly took a step closer to Euna, putting a hand up to Euna’s forehead.

At Kally’s worried glance, Alabaster said, “They’re a derivative of the formula I use for Ajax’s sleep darts. I’ve been using them for my studies on the effect of lucid dreaming on prophetic dreams, so I can immediately plunge into uninterrupted REM sleep for an hour. Think demigod-powered Nyquil.”

“So, this is the best time to draw on her face?” Pax asked, knowing this was an opportunity he should not take lightly.

“Ajax,” Axel snapped from outside. With a much more inclusive and less chastising tone, he added, “We need to leave. Everyone settle in.”

Pax wanted to ask about the urgency, but he could hear what Axel meant. The steam, flames, and hurricane had stopped behind Alabaster’s house. Everything had gone quiet.

“Vroom vroom,” Jack agreed. Although he couldn’t turn to see, his eyes darted in the direction. “I call shotgun.”

As Axel slammed the back door shut, Kally stared after them. She took a seat on the tiny part of the bench still poking out of Euna’s plants. Her movements were slow, like she’d tried to carrying a grizzly bear before realizing grizzly bears weren’t for bench pressing.

“Why is he still with us?” she asked softly. She bent down to pull something out of her messenger bag. From the slow movement, Pax guessed she’d gotten the coolest injury someone could get from a battle: a pulled back muscle.

When Kally withdrew a medical kit that Will must have given her, her eyes watered. “I saw what he did to Annabeth and Piper when I dragged Frank and Jason over—“

The driver’s door shut. From over the seats, Pax watched Axel set Jack’s head in the passenger seat, then paused to debate on a seatbelt.

“Please, it was only mono for Annabeth,” Jack said from the other side of the seat. “It looked like you’ve been healing people though. So you are one of my siblings—”

“Jack,” Axel growled, deciding against the seatbelt.

Although Axel feigned mild irritation, Pax knew how scary Jack’s awareness was. It made Pax want to hug Kally and make her a safety bubble of teddy bears and a soundproof safe room.[5] That was probably the only thing the Fates had left to dangle in Pax’s face. Please don’t hurt my not-girlfriend, Pax thought. She was the only one remotely adjusted in the group and they needed someone who was properly freaked out by a talking head.

“I can behave myself. She’s a friend or a lover or something, right?” Jack asked.

“Flash,” Alabaster said softly, “If you do anything to her, I’ll bring your punishment from Tartarus here.”

Jack made a choking sound.

As though Alabaster hadn’t threatened him with whatever his eternal nightmare was, he continued, “Kally, you said Euna had droplets that invoke godly powers?” Alabaster went from looking like he wanted to strangle Jack to his I’m-fascinated-at-the-expense-of-my-life face. Pax loved that face. It meant he could get away with stupid stuff. “I’m impressed how her mind and body can handle that. I wonder if she’s acclimating.”

“Acclimating?” Kally echoed, eyes widening with alarm. She withdrew ambrosia squares from her messenger bag and some unicorn draught from New Rome, handing a cube to Pax and painfully leaning forward to give one to Axel. She pointedly ignored Jack, who was now humming Hysteria.

“She said it wore off faster last time,” Alabaster said with a shrug. His hands and feet were still encased in metal. His shoulders were slumped with exhaustion and—although Alabaster tried to hide it—confusion. Pax knew Alabaster well enough to see that he hadn’t had enough time to process everything, from the Pax brothers being alive, to why Jack wasn’t dying, to going towards Camp Half-Blood… which Alabaster probably didn’t realize yet.

Pax was very willing to not point out their destination. As the van began to accelerate, Pax flopped down onto the bench beside Alabaster, aware Alabaster would be too tired to move away when Pax nudged him with his knee.

Pax set Nietz’s cage on the ground and opened it, hoping the weasel would frolic out. Instead, Baller scrambled over, evoking a soft call of delight from Pax.

The weasel hopped around Pax’s feet once, then dove after Nietz, nipping and biting at his unconscious brother’s ear to no avail.

“Nietzsche…” Alabaster frowned in concern.

When it became clear that Nietz was nonreactive, Baller bit him and dragged him across the van floor towards Pax and Axel’s trunk by the front seat. Beside it, Pax could see Axel’s surplus army jacket was on the floor, with Hunnie curled in the center. Baller deposited Nietz next to the other unconscious sibling.

“I don’t have enough energy to help them…” Alabaster muttered.

Kally’s teary eyes were scanning all of them, either taking inventory of who was the most injured, or trying to figure out which of the Triple A Chimera was the hottest. Clearly Axel.

“You’re doing that thing,” she said, examining him, “You… Pax?”

Pax jumped. The end of that first sentence was, “where you stare really seriously.” He couldn’t have people taking him seriously. He’d start crying. His cheeks would puff up and he wouldn’t look nearly as adorable.

“So, you evaporated Hazel. That was cool,” he said to Alabaster, keeping his voice even. Ways to distract both of them!

“I banished new shadows from appearing on or near my property. She needed to either fight us without feet, or she had to completely shadow travel away,” he explained robotically, “I almost performed a similar spell to keep Lamia’s essence from reforming, so I already had the mechanics of the incantation worked out.”

Kally paused when she went to hand Alabaster an ambrosia square and realized he didn’t have mobile fingers to take it from her. Alabaster glanced over at the movement and saw the problem. Kally blushed; Alabaster looked puzzled.

Pax thought about the two of them sitting at a café in some fancy European town, sipping tea while Alabaster circled mistakes in a scientific journal and Kally hashed out the details of a chapter.

Pax reached out for Kally’s wrist and pulled her carefully into his lap.

Old people¸ he thought while trying to work around her injured back.

“Pax—” Kally protested. Her blush intensified when she was unable to catch her balance.

“What are you doing?” Alabaster asked, annoyed at the invasion of personal space on the bench.

Once Pax had Kally comfortably against him, he nuzzled into Alabaster’s shoulder. “It’s called sharing,” he said. All he’d wanted all night was a hug from someone that didn’t try to kill him in dream land. This would suffice. “Didn’t either of you go to kindergarten? Besides, at this rate, you’ll both scream in horror the first time you accidentally hold hands. And it will be an accident. It’ll be worse than that time I told Morpheus to give Axel a sex dream with Reyna.”

They were entering a highway. Axel missed a gear shift, the van jerked, and Pax could smell burnt clutch from the back. “You asked him to do that?!” he demanded.

“Yep,” Pax said, trying to sound proud instead of numb. “For your birthday.”

“Wow—Axel,” Jack piped up, “Alabaster’s dream was right? Ramirez? And you never told me? Have you two—”

“No,” Axel snapped, scowling at Pax in the rearview mirror. Pax forced as much of an impish smile as he could manage. “We’re not talking about this, and you’re never to talk about Reyna like that, and it doesn’t matter anyway because it’s over.”

Jack laughed. “All that time of you rejecting girls, boys, monsters, and gods I sent your way? Na-uh. Our chaste warrior falls to the sweet blessing of Eros’ kiss, and you think I’m going to but bite mine tongue at such a celebration?”

“Jack, I’ll throw your head out the window.”

“No, you won’t. You missed me too much.”

“I’ll find Matthias’ playlist and play dubstep the entire way back to camp.”

“You wouldn’t dare, foul demon.”

While the two in the front argued, Alabaster had leaned down and bit the ambrosia square out of Kally’s fingers. If Pax had to guess, purely to spite him.[6]

In an attempt not to evolve the art of embarrassment into a new, more powerful emotion, Kally went to work cutting Alabaster’s sleeve off so she could attend to his wound. Although Pax’s presence made the process slower, they worked around him without complaint. Whether from exhaustion or kindness, Pax was happy for the proximity.

Pax waited patiently to see which of them would break first.

It was Alabaster. Pax could see him become conscious of how close he was sitting to Kally and Pax before he asked, “Wait—mono? You had the opportunity to kill Annabeth, and you gave her the kissing disease?” He looked at the seemingly empty passenger seat for distraction.

Instead of singing to heal where Hazel had slashed Alabaster’s arm, Kally very pointed started to stitch him up. Not gently either.

Yea, their whole group needed some real talk time about the whole killing Percy and Annabeth thing.

“I’m not gonna kill Luke’s creepy crush,” Jack chastised, “Besides, it’s like a two for one deal. A few months from now, Percy will be obnoxiously exhausted and sick. And—if recent Tartarus fanfiction is correct—so will Jason.”

“Oh, Percy and Jason are not a thing.” Pax felt bad ruining Jack’s plan, but he figured Jack ought to know now. “I once smacked Percy’s ass when I’d morphed into Jason and you could tell he wasn’t into it.”

“Ajax—why—” Alabaster started to ask. He shook his head in disgust. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It did make sense at the time,” Kally meekly assured, finishing up the stitch. She put some gauze and medical tape over the wound. “I’ll sing over what’s left once I’ve attended to everyone else and rested a little from healing…”

She trailed off. Pax knew she was going to say Frank and Jason. The thought of her trying to ignore Frank’s nudity should have brought cupcakes and happiness to Pax’s heart.

Kally glanced down at Pax, frowning.

Pax forced himself to give that devilish smile and wink. “I can take off my clothes if you need to do a full body exam.”

Kally blushed, probably thinking about the time he streaked through New York, then shook her head. “Will everyone be okay?” she asked, standing up from Pax’s lap.

Reluctantly, he let her get to her feet. Kally stretched, wincing.

The pain Pax and Leo shared kept threatening to resurface. That kid of Hephaestus deserved a medal, not a child of Strife rooting around in his head. “Does ‘okay’ include future therapy, hours of hug sessions, and a lifetime of regression on self confidence? Because if it does, then maybe. With 65% in the positive direction,” Pax said, puffing up his cheeks and popping them.

Quieter, she asked, “Are you okay?”

He knew she wasn’t asking if he was injured.

If they were alone, Pax would have burst into tears right there, curled up in her lap—an impressive feat considering their current placement—and begged her to hold him. He was pretty sure he’d never screwed up more than he had tonight.

But he didn’t want Alabaster to claim he was faking it, and he didn’t want to explain to Jack why he’d rather curl up with Kally—a hot chick that wasn’t a decapitated corpse—and he didn’t deserve to have Kally touch him.

Alabaster saved him from turning into a puffer fish of sobs. “Why did you leave the protective barrier around the house?” Alabaster asked. The tone wasn’t angry. More the I’m not mad, I just want to know how you did it, that he used when Matthias and Pax broke into the laboratory for prank supplies. “Does it have to do with that mark on your neck?”

Mark? Pax followed Alabaster’s glance and touched the bruise on his neck. Whatever it was hadn’t healed yet, even with his extra godly blood.

Icy fingers slipped over his.

Pax almost screamed, thinking the abominable snowman had somehow snuck up on a moving vehicle and bust through the wall in the stealthiest explosion possible.

Then he felt the warmth of a blanket settle over his legs, one composed of newspaper articles about world catastrophes. The article on his left knee showed a picture of a dead baby panda at some zoo.

Pax felt like someone had scooped out his heart and crushed it. Well, the tiny reserve of his heart that hadn’t been crushed by the rest of the night. He opened and closed his mouth.

Alabaster yelped in alarm when something slipped between him and Pax.

“Have you heard about how Zeus hung Hera over the pit of Khaos, when he learned of her attempted treachery? Even the gods fear the abyss of nothingness and nonexistence,” a familiar voice cooed like a lullaby.

Pax choked on his own breath—a stupid feat, but impressive within the world of stupidity.

A girl leaned forward off their bench, one hand stretched back along Pax’s shoulder and one to Alabaster’s, so she wouldn’t fall forward, though it looked more like she was suspended by two chains. Those black locks—streaked with white, red, and purple—were shorter and jagged again, twisting back in chaotic spirals. She wore a leather jacket. A crowbar and a sledge hammer appeared at her feet.

Atë ignored both of them, her face angled at the slumbering form of Euna.

Euna mumbled in her sleep. The vines wrapped around her legs unraveled and lifted, hovering like charmed snakes between the daughter of Demeter and the Goddess of Mischief and Ruin.

“Atë,” Kally hissed. She snatched one of Axel’s throwing sticks off the wall and aimed it at the goddess. “What do you want?”

“Wow—Kally, put the stick down,” Pax said, his voice coming out a whisper. “Axel will hurt you way more than Atë ever could if you break that thing.”

Atë shrugged listlessly and tugged Pax’s hand so she could sit upright. Alabaster flinched and scowled as she did the same to him. Smoke still curled off her from her little appearing trick. “Euna asked a question while she was sleeping. It would have been rude not to answer.”

“I can’t see!” Jack complained, “Is the intruder hot?”

“It’s Atë,” Axel growled, glaring at her in the rearview mirror.

“That didn’t answer the question,” Jack grumbled.

Atë released Pax’s hand and shoulder, sliding her fingers down his bronze breastplate and under the blanket. She dug her nails into his knee. “Don’t go to Camp Half-Blood,” she said, “Lapis sent me. She said you and Axel shouldn’t go back. A chicken lizard told her—”

“Kukulkan,” Axel snapped.[7]

Pax wasn’t sure what to expect from Atë. Maybe a, “Sorry for using you to kill Will, cause massive chaos, and trap Nico. Here’s a Reese’s Stick.” That would have been nice. He hadn’t expected her to act as a convoy for his siblings.

“So, Lapis gave you a stickynote, a high five, and you poofed? No strings or massive chains attached?” Pax asked. “Just out of the goodness of your… whatever organs you have?”

Atë turned to Pax and stared at him with those blank, red eyes. If she hadn’t… acted how she had earlier, he might have thought he’d stunned her into silence. “She traded the favor for information,” she said.

Pax was scared of what kind of information Lapis would have that Atë might want, other than Axel’s workout schedule. She could get a lot of money for that from the nymphs at Camp Half-Blood.

“Let me take a guess: your mom doesn’t want any of us to go back to Camp Half-Blood?” Kally asked. She took a step back towards Euna, and Pax saw her glance at Backbiter’s scabbard. She was probably debating if she could get it to use Atë’s choker as a cut here line.

“No.” Atë tilted her head to one side and Pax could feel some of her hair tickle his ear. Part of him really wanted to shove her off the bench. Part of him wanted to cry and whine a, I thought you liked me! and knew pushing a goddess was a bad idea.

Pax went to shove her off the bench.

Atë caught his hand. Without revealing any strain, she continued, “Python would be disappointed if you weren’t there, Kally. Euna needs to come to camp. If rumor is correct, she’ll find the answers to some of her questions at Hera’s temple. Jack can come. You can roll his head into Cabin Seven and see who sings the last note. But… Alabaster…”

She turned towards him. “Are you excited to sit outside the camp that has banned you for having thoughts and for wanting to teach others how to have thoughts?”

Although Pax couldn’t see Alabaster with Atë between them, he could envision his friend tensing. Atë leaned forward to tap her nails in a walking motion along Alabaster’s restrains. As the goddess’s fingers left the metal, the material tarnished, cracked, and fell away.

She continued, “You and the rest of Chimera could go on a play date while you’re waiting. I’m sure there are some nymphs you can hunt down to gather ingredients.”

“The Association Against Sorceral Subjugation banned nymph poaching in the 1980’s,” Alabaster said evenly. Pax could see Alabaster flex his freed fingers.

“As they should have,” Axel said sternly from the front.

Pax would rather fall on another nail than hear that argument again.

“Now, Atë, I want you out of my car,” Axel growled.

She kicked her feet out, letting her ankles crack against the base of the bench on the backswing. “You are almost at camp. I should leave. After all, children of Strife always hurt those we love the most, especially the more we’re around them.” She frowned and stared at the floor.

Pax wanted to ask her if she wanted some polish and a rag to rub it in more. He already knew how much he’d hurt his friends.

Instead, she leaned over and kissed Pax where she’d bit him previously. When Pax gasped, he found himself inhaling her smoke as she poofed away.

In her place, there was a small box wrapped in her newspaper blanket. It rattled with something inside.

They sat in stunned silence for a moment, the van’s interior feeling too exposed. Pax wished he had a magical poof ability to avoid unwanted, inevitable questions. Kinda like those trap doors evil villains always kept in offices.

“Um, Pax, isn’t she your sister?” Kally asked. She set Axel’s throwing stick back on the wall. Her tone was too careful.

“She’s only my half-sister,” Pax mumbled, pulling at the sides of the newspaper blanket. Maybe he could hide under it.

“We’re only half-siblings,” Axel said, giving him a concerned glance in the thin slit of the mirror.

Pax sighed. “I want to wink at you so desperately as a joke, but it just feels too weird.”

“Ajax, I consider myself a very patient and understanding man when you consider our upbringing,” Axel said, “But, if you ever wink at me in that context, I will beat the incest out of you.”

“You didn’t—” Alabaster started.

“Nope. I said nope,” Pax said quickly, opening the box to keep from looking at everyone. “I was a good little boy and told her she had no manners since she hadn’t brought me—”

Inside, there were pastry sweets. Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them: they were from his Chiich’s pastry shop. He’d recognize the smell anywhere. Beside them were a bundle of black orchids, the flower his father used to keep all over the club as a reminder of their home country. Lastly, there was a tiny ball of poof staring up at him with panicked, beady eyes. The furry black thing dashed out of the box, fumbling onto the floor.

Baller’s head popped up from his nest. He dashed after the new intruder.

They bolted around the van.

“What is that?!” Kally demanded, scrambling back onto the bench beside Euna.

“It’s a chinchilla,” Pax explained numbly, “She even gave me a live one.”

Alabaster pulled his knees up to sit pretzel style on the bench beside him. Cautiously, he withdrew a note from inside. “That’s a low bar, Ajax,” he pointed out before opening the card.

A voice recording played of Atë saying, “Lo siento muchísimo.”[8]

Pax flinched at the apology. He reached over and opened and shut the front a few times, making it go, “Lo s-L-L-Lo sient—”

Alabaster batted him away. He made a face and went to shut the card.

“What does it say?” Pax asked.

Alabaster frowned, glanced at Axel’s seat, then back at the card. He bit his lip. “I wanted to stitch the recorder inside the chinchilla, like one of those Build-A-Bear toys, but Lapis said you would like this more.” He swallowed. “Now you can open this each time I hurt you. And… and it has a heart with her name beside it.”

Pax tried to respond. He wanted to get excited about naming the chinchilla something awesome or about having a tasty piece of home to eat and visualize the way his Chiich would scold them for swiping sweets from her stand.

But he felt too nauseous to eat.

All he could do was pull his legs up against his chest. He thought about how easily Atë restrained his hand when he tried to push her off the bench. He clutched at the sweater under his armor, the one depicting weasels eating humans.

Maybe Atë was once like him. But everything kept going wrong, over and over, and she stopped feeling like she was made out of cuteness and fluff and forgot how to give others her cuteness and fluff.

Maybe he deserved to be with someone like her.

Warmth encased his side.

Pax wanted to squeal until he smelled the smallest hint of eucalyptus and mint—Kally’s shampoo. She squeezed onto the bench beside him and wrapped her arms around him. Although she was trying to be sneaky, Pax felt her other hand slip along his back to tug on what was left of Alabaster’s sleeve.

Pax could feel her tears when she nuzzled into him.

Alabaster’s fist crushed around the card. Pax wanted to yip in protest—that had been a gift. But the crumbled paper was already on the ground, giving another obstacle for the weasel and chinchilla to dart around.

Pax really hoped Baller was trying to say, hi and not nice night for a snack.

Alabaster shoved the box down afterwards, shaking up the flower and pastry arrangement. “Hades damn it all,” he grumbled. When he leaned forward, putting an arm around Pax and Kally and his chin on Pax’s head, Pax could feel how he fumed and trembled with anger.

“You know you can’t kill the chinchilla, right?” Pax squeaked. “It’s not Harvey’s fault that Atë chose it for a gift.”

“We can get one of the satyrs to give it a nature’s blessing to assure it returns home safely,” Kally suggested.

“Most animals raised in captivity will die in the wild,” Alabaster pointed out.

“I’m sure some younger cabin members will take care of… Harvey,” Kally said.

Listening to them talk around him eased some of the tension in Pax’s stomach. He didn’t realize how tightly he’d clenched into a ball, but tried to become less ball-like by snuggling more into them. After a moment, he managed a smile and said, “You know, Atë gave me the sweater I’m wearing too. Are you going to undress me with the power of teamwork?”

The van decelerated to a stop. At first, Pax thought Axel was parking to hop in the back and yank his ear off.

Instead, Axel opened his door and paused. Pax could hear him sniff the chilly early morning air as it drifted into the car. Then he popped his cheeks.

“What is it?” Jack asked.

Alabaster and Kally sat up. Even Euna stirred.

Axel inhaled deeply and sighed. When he glanced over the seat rest, Pax could see how exhausted he looked. “It’s Reyna. She’s here. And so are the Romans.”

Thanks for reading guys! At least you now know Pax survived >>’’ We’ll get to Percy and Leo’s side a little later.

Also! Excitement on this front! For those of you who aren’t on a website that says how many chapters there are: I’m writing the last one this weekend! :D There will be 43 in Attrition of Peace, though I’m hoping to keep the word count below Blood of a Mayan. (It’s already too long T.T) Once that’s done and I finish some school application stuff (*cries* real life), I’m going to hash out some of my writing requests (don’t think I forgot you Calex-meets-his-awesome-step-mother-request :D)! Thanks for sticking with me so far guys!

Footnotes:

[1] The original start for this chapter was in Axel’s point of view with, When they slid into the Paxmobile, Axel still wasn’t sure they’d made the right choice.

When a talking head and demigod slammed into the hood of the car, he knew, regardless of the rightness of the choice, at least it didn’t result in Pax’s death.

[2] I am so tired of doing exposition and character building scenes in the Paxmobile. That’s why it disappeared for a full book. I’m straight up going to blow the damn thing up soon. Say goodbye to your home weasels! MUAHAHHA!

[3] His most famous son is deaf.

[4] A question I often get from friends and family when I get into writing moods.

[5] “Preferably covered in pictures of scantily clad Alabaster and Pax boys. You know. In case she gets bored.”

[6] Jokes on Alabaster. You know Pax has no problems with polygamy.

[7] This is hinted at in the second book. Lapis is the only Pax other than Ajax that can call upon the Vision Serpent. More on this—in proper mythological context—in the Pax family’s standalone story.

[8] I’m so sorry.

#The Attrition of Peace #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #fanfiction #PJO #HOO #Pax #Axel #Jack #Alabaster #Euna #Kally #creeeeepy flirting #One day I'll write characters with functional relationships....#It will trigger the end of days....

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ivebeenavengered · 7 years ago

Text

Pierce

I didn’t make yesterday’s prompt because I still am not happy with the way it’s come out. I’ll post it eventually, but here’s today’s prompt (On time for the first time hellz yeah)

The suit groaned in protest as Tony urged it past the recommended maximum speed. Pieces of rubble and the occasional blast from the most recent threat to humanity made the maneuvering difficult, but Tony barley paid them mind. He had eyes only for the small figure that was plummeting out of the sky.

This was impossible. This whole situation was impossible.

Tony's mind went blank as he pushed the suit as hard as he could. Friday's slightly panicked voice did nothing to stay Tony's determination. The world slowed around him as he streaked across the sky; his entire world shrank to the person that was falling towards the unforgiving concrete. Faster his mind screamed at him you have to go faster!

And then, suddenly, Bruce's limp form was in his arms. Tony curled his armor-plated body around Bruce's protectively as they both slammed into the pavement. The armor hit the ground with a horrific crash, and Tony winced as he was thrown against the unyielding metal of his suit. His whole body was going to be one big bruise after this.

As Tony straightened the armor, the extent of Bruce's injury became apparent. Tony took a steadying breath as he attempted to survey the damage. Blood was smeared across the front of his own armor and it seeped from the deep puncture wound on Bruce's chest. He caught a glimpse of a towel a sunbather had left behind in their hurry to leave the park and pressed it firmly against the wound.

"This isn't supposed to happen," Tony breathed, more a whisper than an actual statement. "God dammit Bruce, you're supposed to be indestructible." Bruce's eyes were shut, and, were it not for the blood spattered across his body, he could have been sleeping. "Friday, call Helen. Send her our location and tell her to get here fast." As Friday complied, he pressed the release for the faceplate, but nothing happened. He squeezed the release mechanism again, but it still refused to open.

"Friday, get me out of this thing, I have to help him." His throat started to close as an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia loomed over him and he pressed the eject again with the same result.

"Sir, I cannot let you eject. The radiation coming from Dr. Banner's blood is highly dangerous and will severely injure you even if it does not kill you."

"Shit. Shit Brucie. Ah," he looked down at Bruce, who had already lost what little color he'd had left in his face, "Did you contact Helen?"

"Doctor Cho is on her way with a full medical team. They have been informed of the situation and the danger it presents." Friday's matter-of-fact tone would have been almost reassuring had Tony's best friend not been lying in the middle of Central Park in a pool of his own radioactive blood.

"Let me talk to her."

Friday's display dissolved as she complied with Tony's request and Helen's photo quickly appeared to fill the empty spot.

"Tony? I'm only a couple minutes away, it is your job to keep whatever monstrosity you all are fighting away from the area." Tony could hear the sounds of chaos in the distance behind him, but knew the others were more than capable of keeping the beast at bay for now.

"Helen, yeah, thanks, don't worry about that. Uh, how do I help him? He's bleeding out in front of me and I may have four PH.D.s but none of them prepared me for whatever this is and, uh, there's a lot of blood." By the time he finished talking, he was gasping for breath. There's so much blood.

"Breathe, Tony. He's going to be okay."

Tony swallowed down his denial and took a deep breath. "All I need you to do is keep pressure on his wound. Find a cloth or something like that and keep it pressed on there firmly until I get there."

"Yeah I got that. Please..." he paused, his voice caught in his throat, "Just hurry."

Helen assured him that she'd be quick, and her picture faded off the display as she disconnected.

The silence that followed was deafening. Tony swallowed, the walls of his armor beginning again to feel like a prison separating him from his friend.

"Ah fuck. Bruce, god, please don't do this. I mean, I know it's not your fault. Who knew something could fucking pierce the Hulk's skin? Like, that shouldn't happen. And the whole falling from the sky thing wasn't fun either. But goddammit, Bruce. I can't... you can't leave me now." Tony smiled and shook his head, "You're... so important to me. And I haven't told you that. Not really. I want the chance to do that," his vision blurred as his eyes welled with tears he couldn't brush away, "Please. Please give me that chance."

The sound of an approaching car announced Helen's arrival. Tony turned and saw three figures hurrying towards him dressed in hazmat suits.

Helen carefully took Tony's position and gave Bruce a quick once-over before she nodded to the figures accompanying her. Tony stood back while the two unfamiliar figures gently lifted Bruce onto a stretcher and carried him back toward their vehicle. Helen hung back, and turned to face Tony while her assistants loaded themselves into the car.

"I don't have to tell you how dangerous it is to be sheltering Bruce," Tony deadpanned. He was grateful that his eyes couldn't be seen through the mask, because he was entirely focused on the car that was taking his friend away.

"You don't. My team and I are more than prepared to deal with whatever may come; be it biological or of a more militaristic persuasion."

Tony smiled behind the faceplate of the armor. Her confidence was catching. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Dr. Cho. And be careful."

She nodded and sprinted to where the car was waiting. Tony watched as she climbed in, then took off. He quickly called Rhodey and heard the sounds of fighting in the background when his friend picked up. Obviously, the fight with the monster was still super intense.

"Tony! What do you need? I'm kind of busy at the moment." Tony could hear the tell-tale sound of the massive artillery attached to the War Machine armor as Rhodey unloaded, presumably, into the monster. "How's Bruce?"

"I have no idea. Helen's taking him to the SHIELD base down in ----."

"You're going too, right?" It was less of a question and more of a statement. If anyone knew how dangerous governmental organizations could be, it was Rhodes. "I'm worried about him waking up in a hospital somewhere. Alone."

"Of course I'm heading down there. I’m tracking the car they've got him in as we speak. You all got all the monster business under control?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, I'll let the others know. We've got this covered out here. Keep Bruce safe."

Tony nodded, "Alright, good luck doing this without either half of the brain of this crazy operation."

He could practically hear Rhodey rolling his eyes as he shot off in the direction they'd taken Bruce. The sounds of the battle in Central Park quieted behind him until he could no longer hear them. Anxiety and worry curled in the pit of his stomach, no longer held at bay by the adrenaline that came with fighting.

"Hang in there, Bruce. I'm on my way."

Hours later, Tony sat next to the bed where Bruce was laying. The room was small, but nicely furnished with a large window overlooking the forest they were hidden in. Although S.H.I.E.L.D had been kind enough to offer them their hidden facilities, Tony didn't trust them enough to leave Bruce for more than a few minutes. Helen had been surprised by his sudden appearance when they first pulled into the facilities, but no one argued when the Iron Man armor waltzed into the hospital wing with a hazmat unit. Tony (with the aid of his powerful armored suit) had allowed no one but Dr. Cho's small group of trusted peers to see Bruce during the entire process. The suit, freshly cleaned and decontaminated, was standing guard just outside the door of the hospital room. Helen had come by twice to check on Bruce and take vitals, and assured Tony repeatedly that Bruce was going to be fine.

He has to be fine, Tony had mused, He just has to be.

Right now, exhaustion was getting the better of him and he jerked himself awake for what must have been the sixth time. He sighed and leaned back, letting his eyes slide shut and letting the gentle hum of hospital activity lull him into some semblance of rest.

"...Tony?" The voice was small and barely above a whisper, but it was enough to pull him out of whatever state of sleep he had been in. "Did I...? Hurt anyone?"

Tony felt his heart swell in his chest and he heaved a sigh of relief, "No, buddy. You nearly gave me a heart attack with that stunt though." He paused and made his voice jokingly menacing, "Don't you ever do shit like that again."

Bruce blinked and gave him a weak smile, "Yeah, you don't have to tell me twice." He winced as he took a deep breath and swore, "Hurts like hell."

Tony shrugged, "You got shanked by some ferocious water beast. You're damn lucky you aren't dead. Though I'm curious how that thing took Hulk out hard enough to make this happen." He gestured to the white bandages that criss-crossed over Bruce's torso.

"A mystery for another day," Bruce grimaced as he pulled himself into a sitting position, "As for right now, I'm more curious to know where the food is. I'm dying over here."

Tony laughed and stood up, knees cracking like gunshots as he pulled himself out of the chair, "Sit tight, I'll go find you something to eat."

A quick trip to the hospital cafeteria produced an astonishing amount of food that Bruce inhaled like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Tony absentmindedly chewed an apple, happy to see that Bruce felt well enough to have a healthy appetite.

"Hey," Bruce started, finishing up his third helping of Mac and cheese, "So, ah, you said something about you needing to tell me how important I am to you while I was bleeding out."

Tony stopped chewing mid-bite.

Bruce smiled, "Yup. Barely conscious, but I caught that. I, uh, figured I'd spare you the awkward conversation and just tell you that I feel the same way." He sighed, the cup of mac and cheese gone, "And we've both been skirting around this" he waved at the space between them to emphasize his meaning, "for a frustratingly long amount of time."

Tony thought he was going to pass out right there in the chair. "You're serious? You played me like that? Listen, I got you mac and cheese and I saved your damn life. You could be a little more gracious."

Bruce smiled and shrugged, "I can't talk about serious stuff when I'm hungry alright? Look, Tony, I like you. Like, a lot. And it's been awhile since I've felt like this about anyone. But," he looked down at the sheets between his legs, "I need to know you feel the same."

Tony grinned and took Bruce's hand, giving it a light squeeze, "Yeah. God, yes. Bruce, I'm sorry it took me this long to admit but... yeah I feel the same way about you. Something about those huge Bambi eyes just stole my heart out from under me."

Bruce chuckled, then grimaced, "Ah, fuck, laughing hurts."

"Why don't you get some rest?" Tony suggested, his own eyes heavy once again with sleep. "We can talk about all this when both of us wake up."

Bruce nodded and scooted himself back down into the bed. "Yeah. Are you staying here?"

"No where else I'd rather be, Brucie."

Bruce smiled and shut his eyes, "Admittedly, I have several places I'd rather be. But, seriously, thank you for saving my life. I owe you one."

"We can get even later, but, for the record, you're welcome."

"Goodnight, Tony."

"Goodnight."

Tony leaned back in the chair and let his eyes close as well, knowing that, when he woke up, everything was going to be alright.

#sciencebrosweek #sciencebrosweek2k17 #science bros #science bros fic #my fic #i couldnt figure out yesterdays but IM WORKING ON IT #so here's this #xoxoxo

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