#shaking ass to PUT ONE HOOF IN FRONT OF THE OTHER IN FRONT OF THE OTHER IN FRONT OF THEOOOOTHERR

[illadvisedart]

its been a lovely horsey life!!!

[triptychgrip]

Rudolph Viktor, the Red-Nosed Assed Reindeer (ficlet)

In these trying times, I’m coping by imagining Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov putting a lewd spin on wholesome holiday songs in order to make his husband laugh/cheer him up. I hope you enjoy this ficlet (and can muster through the secondhand embarrassment). Also, I know it’s not even December…sue me. 

In case it’s not obvious, sexually suggestive content below the cut

—

Yuuri gawked at the sight of two….hooves?! parting the mistletoe-strewn curtains that had been set up in their living room. 

A familiar melody began to play from their Bluetooth speaker and he watched, stock-still on the couch as Viktor fully emerged from behind his hiding spot. Yuuri felt his mouth go slack as his husband began to prance and twirl around in front of him, wearing a very scanty, mostly fur-covered outfit. 

He wasn’t sure where to direct his attention: at the jingle-bell adorned microphone that Viktor was holding in between two hoof-like “sleeves”, the enormous antlers atop his head, the luxuriously soft-looking hotpants covering his lower half, or the three furry mounds vibrating just behind his ankles that bore great resemblance to their dogs.

Well…reindeer-dog hybrids was the more accurate descriptor.

“You know Dasher and Dancer and Makka and Vixen,” Viktor sang, prompting Yuuri’s lips to quirk as he caught on to where this ambush was going.

“Comet and Meni and Goya and Blitzen! But do you recallllll…”

His love drew out the last syllable for a good four seconds longer than necessary and then did a dramatic spin, somehow managing to deftly side-step a very excited reindeer-Makka (even with his extremely clunky-looking, fur-covered stiletto boots).

“...the most naughty reindeer of all?”

Yuuri’s breath lodged firmly in his throat. Naughty?

“Viktor the Red-Assed Reindeer, had a very reddened rear!”

While singing, Viktor gracefully made his way over to one of the room’s side tables and picked up what looked to be a paddle, printed with white, cursive lettering. Yuuri squinted to see what was on it, given how Viktor was swaying from side to side as he made his way back to the center of the room.

A frisson of excitement licked up his spine as he comprehended the words.

Santa’s Naughty Boy

‘Boy’ had been crossed out, and a taped-over piece of paper that read ‘Reindeer’ had been stuck just below it. 

“And if you ever saw it, you would probably shed a tear!” his spouse continued on, miming wiping said tear off of his cheek. “Because my ass is a damn fine work of art, if I do say so myself.” (At this point, the music had paused and Viktor had lowered his microphone, breaking the fourth wall by speaking in his regular voice.)

Yuuri burst into giggles, a soaring feeling building in his chest when he saw how his amusement had made Viktor’s heart-shaped smile emerge.

“All of the other reindeer, never questioned Santa’s role –” (here, Viktor turned to shake his head sorrowfully at Makka, Meni, and Goya, as if to convey his deep disappointment in them) “ – they never understood that getting spanked was Viktor’s goal!”

Yuuri hiccuped a loud laugh at these lyrics, which was followed by several others when his husband began to swat at his own ass with the paddle. Tears of mirth began to swim in his eyes as all three of their dogs tilted their heads in confusion.

But Viktor kept up his antics, somehow managing to simultaneously spank himself, continue to twirl, and sing (though this latter task suffered a bit, on account of how breathy his voice now was).

“Then one trying Christmas Eve…”

The music cut out, and Viktor broke the fourth wall for a second time.

“...after a particularly long day of winding Santa up and, frankly, pissing off all of the elves –”

Yuuri was now laughing so hard he was finding it hard to breathe.

…

Success! Viktor delightedly thought to himself, as he watched tears drip down Yuuri’s cheeks.

After winning the Grand Prix Final the last two years in a row, he knew that his husband had been disappointed in himself for his bronze medal finish last week. Though he’d tried his best to console him, nothing seemed to be able to penetrate Yuuri’s glumness.

Until now.

He puffed his chest out and put a hand on his hip, wanting to give his all to his imitation of the inimitable Mr. Claus.

“Saint Nick came to say: Viktor with your ass so tight, won’t you ride my sleigh tonight?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and then he was clapping a hand over his mouth, presumably to stifle his laughter. Viktor was pretty proud of this rework of the lyrics; sure, it might have made more logical sense to go with the whole “ass so bright” on account of the whole spanking motif, but he was the master of surprising the audience. And his love certainly seemed surprised. 

Besides, this “riding Santa’s sleigh” version played into the very filthy conclusion far too well.

“None of the other reindeer got to crack this dirty code, since they had to handle Christmas…while Viktor took a festive load!”

For the final time, the music cut out and Viktor allowed his “caveat” to tumble out in a rush.

“And when I say ‘Viktor took a festive load’, I’m not talking about him delivering presents,” he wryly noted, wondering if Yuuri would be able to properly acknowledge this genius wordplay, on account of how he seemed to be fighting for breath. “I mean that he got spanked and stuffed like a stocking, and several good children all over the world never received their presents that year, on account of his and Santa’s horniness.”

The closing instrumental music came back on, and as the song wound down, Viktor tried to catch his breath, feeling a bit winded. He wasn’t the only one; Yuuri was hiding his beet-red face in the crook of his elbow. 

Around several deep inhales, he began to giggle when Makka, Meni, and Goya scurried towards the couch, the latter two poodles leaping onto it with such fervor that their antler “headbands” fell off. 

“What did you think, Santa? Did you like the song?” Viktor crowed, making his way over as well.

As soon as his spouse was in reach, he glomped onto him, practically collapsing into his lap. Yuuri stilled all of a sudden, reciprocating his hold rather slowly and turning his teary-eyed gaze upon him.

“Santa?! I’m Santa in this scenario?!” he burst out, looking like he was about to dissolve right back into a giggle fit.

Viktor gasped in mock-outrage and shoved his microphone in Yuuri’s face, jingling the attached bells obnoxiously.

“How could you even ask me that, my Yuuri?! As if I could ever be interested in riding another man’s sleigh!”

With this definitive declaration, he slumped over completely onto the living room rug, and it wasn’t even a second later that Makka began to sniff at his antlers with great interest.

“You have wounded me! I don’t think I’ll ever recover!” he crowed.

Yuuri let out a cackle and then hunched over, peering at him from upside down. “My mistake, Vitya. Santa threw back one too many glasses of eggnog. Let me make it up to you?”

He lifted his foot and began to wiggle it, enticingly, and Viktor sat up so fast that he almost toppled over on account of his antlers.

[mindninjax]

Iron and Wine (3)

Chapter 3- Lovely Bitter Water

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Erwin Smith x fem!reader (Royalty AU)

Warnings: Erwin can't keep his fucking hands to himself, sexual tension, some dirty talk, nightmares,

WC: 3.5K

a/n: Be wary of the warnings on this one just in case anyone is uncomfortable with it. But This chapter contains humor and sexual tension and by far was my favorite chapter to write so far.

The high stone ceiling peels away above you to show the sky. It is clear and dark, save for a thousand twinkling lights, the souls of those you’ve lost shining down upon you. You blink, once, twice, as the wind tickles your skin and dances merrily through your hair. There is a warm pale glow above you and your mind is wandering into the cosmos as you feel a pair of cool lips on your forehead. A glowing ball of white light beckons to you as you sit up and gaze around the swaying tall grass around you.

This is a dream.

You stand, the dress you’re wearing swaying with the wind like a synchronized dance. The air smells clean and fresh, like the trees back home. You take a step forward, smiling to yourself and basking in the white light shining down on you. The moon sits large on the horizon across the field you’re in and fills you with joy as you skip freely toward it. You laugh and it rings out into the field like a carol of bells.

You’re stopped in your tracks as a large white hoof stomps in front of you. The ground shakes from the impact and you can see it start to crumble. You look up and there is a beast with the face of a goat and the body of a man sitting atop the saddle. It’s eyes are blacker than an abyss, staring at you blankly. They’re cold, sucking the very life from you.

Suddenly the wind stops and it is deathly silent. The air no longer smells fresh and clean but reeks of rotten flesh. You whip your head around fear creeping up the back of your neck as the clear night sky forms dark stormy clouds above your head. The sky bursts open with an ear splitting crack and wailing misery from above can be heard. It is earth shattering, rumbling the world and making your ears bleed.

Horrific images flash before your eyes in quick succession. Animals' skin and bone disintegrate in his presence. When he dismounts from his horse the land dies beneath his feet and when he takes a step blood stains the earth.

You scream but the sound is stolen and swallowed by the darkness he brings. The last thing you see before it takes over you completely, is the beast opening his mouth, a sinister crooked smile on his lips as he utters the words “I have come and with me I bring death.”

You awake with a gasp and shoot up in the large bed. Your vision is blurred as the remnants of the dream fade away and the bright morning light breaks through the haze. It takes you a few minutes to recognize your surroundings, but it comes flying back to you when you see Historia lying peacefully next to you in bed.

You are in the wolf king’s castle, acting as what he refers to as a “guest” when really you are his prisoner. Historia helped you take a bath last night, washed your hair and dressed you in a light but extravagant sleeping gown. When it was time to retire for the night, she’d bowed to you and asked to be excused. Remembering how fond she was of the room, you’d suggested she stay here with you and sleep. It might’ve been a bit selfish on your part, her presence was calming and her soft breath next to your ear was the only thing that lulled you into slumber.

But that dream almost certainly was a warning. You’d prayed for clarity before you went to sleep and the Mother provided. However, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t woken up more confused than before. What was she trying to tell you? If Erwin Smith was in fact the enemy, the bringer of destruction and death, why did Her whispers stay your blade?

You shut your eyes tightly, put your index finger and thumb together while intertwining your other fingers and kiss the tip before bowing your head. “Forgive me Mother. I do not understand what it is I’m supposed to do. Erwin Smith is the enemy, so how do I stop him and save your children?” You whisper quietly under your breath.

A bubbling warmth pools in your gut when you think about the Wolf King and you don’t like the way it makes your heart thrum in your chest like a caged bird. You don’t understand what part he’s to play, whether you should trust him or not. But one thing is for certain, The Mother does not want him dead. You roll your eyes before getting off the bed and walking to the window to open the heavy curtains and let in the sun’s warmth.

Historia still sleeps peacefully on the bed, her even breathing occasionally interrupted by soft snores. You smile as you watch her, curled up on the bed, innocent and lovely. Perhaps you were wrong to think you couldn’t trust any of the people in the castle. As you watch the bustling people below from the window, you take a deep breath and make your decision. The only people who have actually shown you their true selves are Erwin and the little dog he keeps next to him. Which means, the only ones you have to distrust right now are those two. It would make for an easier time if you were being forced to stay here.

Then it’s settled, you’ll be cordial to the others and keep your guard up around Erwin and his knight. He may think you’ll agree to his plan, but you won’t. The fact that you can’t kill him is bothersome but you can definitely take this time to learn more about how he rules and bring that viable information back to your people.

Two quick knocks on the door draw your eyes away from the people below and your body instantly crouches into defense. You shake your head, trying to break the automatic defensive edge that is built into your character. Cordial and pleasant. That’s what you need to be. A nervous voice on the other side of the door calls out.

“Good Morning my lady, King Erwin demands your presence in the council room.”

You squint your eyes in frustration. Demands?

You wrench the door open to see the tall farm pup man standing before you. He jumps a bit at the sudden swing of the door and his eyes drift down your body before he turns red and looks away nervously. You don’t realize how thin the garment you’re wearing is. Your nipples bead in the cool air in the chamber and a breeze flows through your legs making it cling to your curves. You smile a little to yourself at his obvious embarrassment.

“You’re one of the knights he sent to stand outside my door, yes? To make sure I don’t run off?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

He still doesn’t look at you, but nods his head and says “Yes my lady.”

“I see, and you are Ser…?”

“Moblit my lady. Umm if you don’t mind me saying, maybe you would feel more comfortable in more appropriate attire? The King is demanding I escort you to the council chamber at once,” he says again.

You study him for a bit. He’s cute with warm trusting eyes. You can tell he’s not faking how nervous he seems to be around you but if you were to guess why Erwin would keep someone like him around, he’s probably levelheaded on the battlefield. You do raise your eyebrow in frustration at his use of the word “demands” again but you clear your throat and look at him.

“Well, thank you for guarding the door Ser Moblit,” you say bowing to him.

You smile brightly at him as he’s caught off guard by your pleasant attitude. He blushes again when you complete the bow and gaze back into his large brown eyes. You can hear Historia yawning and waking up behind you. You hear her little gasp as she jumps out of bed and runs to the door, mortified at the way you’re dressed in front of Moblit.

“You can’t just answer the door dressed like that! It’s indecent!” she squeaks, trying to cover you as you laugh warm heartedly at her. The last thing you say to him before Historia pulls you back into the room and shuts the door is “Please tell the King to get fucked in the ass by his horse before he demands anything of me again.”

Erwin lifts his clear eyes from the scroll of parchment at the sound of the heavy doors opening. The sound echoes loudly around the room creating a grand entrance. He stops scribbling and peaks an eyebrow when he sees only one person entering the council room. Moblit clears his throat uncomfortably as he approaches. All eyes are on him as he bows respectfully avoiding the King’s gaze.

Erwin speaks calmly, no hint of frustration in his voice. “Moblit, why is my guest not with you?”

Moblit bows again before responding, “My apologies sire, she...refused to come.”

“Really now? Did she give a reason why?” He asks as if he’s unbothered with the disobedience.

“N..no sire.”

Erwin smiles to himself, thumping his long fingers on the large wooden table. Of course you wouldn’t come. This is exactly what he expected. If you had shown up, that would’ve been too easy and not your style. “Not giving a reason certainly doesn’t sound like something the silver tongued little lioness would do. Come, tell me her words.”

“S..she requested that your majesty… ahem… be fucked in the ass by your horse,” Moblit stutters and shifts his eyes and it looks like it physically pains him to say this to his King. The room goes silent, Hange tries to keep a snicker in, Levi growls underneath his breath, and the others watch Erwin carefully.

He looks back down to his parchment and continues scribbling. “Nifa.” He says not looking up as he continues to write. Nifa jumps at the sound of her name. She sits in the corner of the room, large rolls of parchment are draped over the side of the small table she sits at. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Is there anything on the roster after sunset?”

Nifa shuffles through the parchment as her eyes scan over the schedule. “No, Your Grace.”

“Excellent. Please add ‘fuck my horse’ to the roster for just after nightfall. Thank you.”

Hange’s snicker erupts into laughter as Nifa scribbles in the addition and Erwin smirks to himself.

You sit in front of the large vanity mirror, the candles dripping wax down the candle holder. You stare into the fire, daydreaming of leaving this place as the last remnants of sunlight become swallowed by the horizon. You’ve been cooped up in this room all day, refusing all who came to the door with food and gifts of clothes from the King.

“I still can’t believe you told Ser Moblit to tell the King that. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that about His Highness,” Historia says nervously as she brushes your hair. You’re holding a silver goblet full of wine that was brought up to your room, a peace offering, the woman who’d given it to you said. It wouldn’t be here if not for Historia asking to sample it. It’s true you’ve taken a very intense liking to Historia. She truly feels like your only friend here.

You sniff the wine and wrinkle your nose in disgust. It smells processed and fake, not at all like the wine Carla makes back home. Erwin must think you a fool. As if you’d drink something he’d present to you as a gift. It could be poisoned.

You set the cup down as Historia moves to braid intricate little braids at the crown of your head and let the rest flow freely down your back.

“Well, you’ve never left this castle. Outside these walls, the people don’t speak fondly of your king,” you scold her.

“Why not? King Erwin has done nothing but help me since he found me in my village,” she says seriously.

“What do you mean?” You turn around to gaze at her in confusion. It has occurred to you that you haven’t asked her anything about herself and it saddens you. Your gaze softens as you look at her and she smiles her bright smile at you before a firm knock on your door makes the both of you jump.

“Don’t,” she says, putting a hand in front of you to stop you from moving. “We don’t need a repeat of this morning. You probably almost killed Moblit. Put this on I’ll get the door for you,” she says handing you a silk robe to cover the thin nightgown you wear.

You chuckle as she walks to the door and opens it warily. You hear her squeak in surprise and turn to see her bowing lowly and Erwin pushing the door open and stepping into the room. You stand quickly, pulling the robe up over your arms and glaring as he enters.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says warmly to Historia. She blushes and shakes her head quickly, her blonde locks hitting her cheeks.

“No, Your Grace. My lady was just getting ready to sleep for the night,” she replies, still holding the door, face full of shock.

Erwin’s eyes rake up and down your figure and he smiles that cocksure smile he’s famous for. “Yes, I can see that. Historia, would you mind giving me and the Lioness a moment of privacy?” he asks, bending down to take her hand into both of his.

You’re steaming, grinding your teeth as you watch Historia’s face grow pink and she nods wordlessly to him. “No! Historia stays with me. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her.” You step between her and the door and she looks nervously between you and him. He gives her a knowing look and she scurries past you, whispering in your ear quickly. “I’ll be back when he leaves.”

When she closes the door quietly behind her, you glare up at Erwin who continues smiling warmly at you. “I see you’re not a fan of the wine I had sent up for your pleasure,” he says walking to the vanity and picking up the goblet. He takes a sip, then closes his eyes and relishes in the sweet taste. “This is the best wine in the entire kingdom, made specifically for the King.” You curl your lip up in disgust.

“It tastes that way. Like it was only meant to please you. It lacks the care, the love for the vine and fruit that you would be able to taste in each sip,” you explain, rolling your eyes. Not like he would understand anyway. A spoiled king with servants to do his every bidding would never understand the time and care it takes to produce good wine.

“Hmm I suppose it does,” he says, eyeing you curiously. You can tell he’s enjoying this, the way his sneaky sapphire eyes move slowly up your body, lingering on the spread of your hips and the curve of your breast. You turn away from him in disgust.

“Why are you here?”

He feigns shock, eyes growing wide and he puts a hand to his chest. “Why, my lady, I thought you summoned me here. Surely I didn’t misinterpret Moblit’s message.”

Confusion floods your face as you squint and question his sanity. “Are you mad? I told Ser Moblit no such thing,” you say, shaking your head.

“Hmm, I thought for sure being fucked by my own horse was some kind of coded message. It is quite sudden I will admit but I have had many who crave me and I will not tell a lie, I am fascinated by what is beneath your lovely gown,” he says casually walking over to stand in front of you and smile down smugly.

You can feel your face heating at the insinuation. As if you’d ever invite him to your room, least of all for that. You sputter a bit before quickly retorting, “Is that what you tell all the women you try to seduce into a pact with you? I am not that weak and I have met many who were worth craving.”

You see the shock flash across his face and return his smug smile. His expression turns dark then and he lowers his voice and moves so close to you that you can smell the lingering scent of the wine he sipped.

“Do not continue to insult me. Your snide comments are only as entertaining as I continue to allow them to be. You would’ve been dead a long time ago were it not for the way I enjoy your tongue sliding over your lips while you say them,” he breathes and the warmth envelops you and makes your head a bit dizzy.

You keep your composure though, opting to continue to tease and make him as uncomfortable as he made you. You’re determined to expose his weakness and walk out of this castle vowing to destroy him and everything he holds dear.

“A shame that even the great Wolf King can be brought to his knees by a woman,” you reply sarcastically.

“Forgive me, but you are mistaking a fleeting lust-filled gaze for something more. I shall not kill you until we’ve come to an agreement, that or...I have at least tasted you upon my lips. And once I have—and I will one day—the fascination will cease. But until then, enjoy your stay in my castle and please read over the document I’ve provided. I am sure it will help with your decision.”

Your hand is itching to slap him across his chiseled jaw. You crane your hand back quickly but he catches it and throws you against the nearest wall. He pins you against it with his large body looming over you, the hand you were about to use to slap him pinned above your head and the other at your side. He tightens his grip on your wrists, a thick muscular thigh wedged between yours, partaking in the warmth radiating from your cunt.

“You’d dare to strike your king?” He grunts in a husky voice as you struggle in his grasp. His breath washes over you again as he cranes his neck down to drink in your scent.

“You are not my king,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Ahh there is the fierceness that makes my cock weep. A true lioness. Breaking you will be the greatest victory I’ve ever tasted. ”

You’re ashamed at how his words affect you. He pushes his thigh ever so slightly up against your folds and you gasp as his cock twitches against your thigh. He stares into your eyes, half lidded as his breathing increases.

His musk strangely reminds you of home, it’s woody and spicy like roasted chestnuts during the Celestial Ides festival. Hints of rose linger around the edges and you try very hard not to be drawn in by it. Your face burns as his eyes shift down to your lips and he leans in to brush his against your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft and he’s very skilled at swiping them against your collarbone and up your jaw in such a way that would have you pleading for more if it were not him. You shudder and hold in the moan that desperately craves to be released before wriggling in his grasp to try and free yourself. Your hand moves to the tiny hidden slit you made in the robe when Historia wasn’t looking.

He moves gently up to your jaw, dragging his lips over your soft skin. He only stops when he feels a cool sharp prick right beneath his rib cage.

“Let. Me. Go. Or I’ll carve out your heart and feed it to your dogs,” you say between clenched teeth and heavy sensual breaths. You push the dagger harder into his side and it pricks through the fabric of his shirt, drawing blood.

He chuckles and releases his hold on you, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. He pulls a rolled up piece of parchment from the inside of his loose sleeves and places it onto the vanity before saying, “I should’ve known you’d have a weapon hidden on your person. I guess you’ve become a bigger distraction to me than I previously assumed.”

You wipe your neck and face where his lips were in disgust, holding the dagger and crouching ready to spring should he come closer to you.

“Get out. And do not ever touch me again.”

He only smiles a warm hearted smile, as if nothing has happened and walks to the door to open it.

“Until next time, my lady,” and shuts the door quietly behind him.

--

taglist: @lazyezstudy @jeanbeaux @ixwrites @melyannathemaia @forlancasterrr @starstruckkittensweets @charlotteplsdosth @mythical-goth @casspea @saturnalya @neptvnia @mrs-kuroojinguji

Strikethrough means tumblr won’t let me tag! I’m sorry

[chudleycanonficfest]

Make a Move

Day 9, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Make a Move

Author: adenei

Pairing: Frank/Alice Longbottom

Prompt: You did WHAT?!

Rating: T

TW: mild language

**********

Oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad. What have I done?

Frank paces the floor of the seventh-year boy’s dormitory. He’s not even sure what possessed him to do it. Since when has he actually proven himself as a Gryffindor when it comes to the opposite sex? He hasn’t—because he’s always been a blundering imbecile when it comes to women. And today has proven no different.

“Frank, mate, what’s wrong?” Robbie Burke shuts the door to the dormitory behind him.

“I—I asked—ah, don’t make me say it again!” Frank throws his hands in the air as he shakes his head from side to side, his sandy-blond hair falling in front of his eyes as a result.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Robbie urges Frank to confide in him.

Frank takes a deep breath to ground himself as he sits on the bed and covers his face with his hands.

“I asked Alice to the Christmas Ball,” he mutters.

“Bloody hell, that’s brilliant, mate! Good for you!” Robbie claps Frank on the shoulder in celebration but pauses when Frank looks up at him, his caramel eyes wrought with dismay. 

“Oh, no, did she say no?” Robbie winces at the premature celebration.

“Not exactly,” Frank huffs.

“But she didn’t say yes?”

“Er…”

“Frank—”

“I ran away before she could answer!” Frank admits his wrongdoing and prepares for the onslaught of profanities that’s about to erupt out of his best friend’s mouth.

“You did WHAT? Bloody buggering hell, mate!”

“I know, I know, I was a coward! But she looked so surprised, and she’s so cool, and I’m so...not, and then I started thinking, ‘why would she ever want to go with me’, and I panicked!”

So much for being a Gryffindor, I can’t even ask a girl out! 

Granted, Alice Fortescue wasn’t just any witch. She was popular, kind, easy-going, and always friendly to everyone. Plus, she was the girl you went to if you were looking to smuggle food and Butterbeer from the kitchens.

Frank has been holding a torch for Alice for as long as he can remember. He recalls how she was the first person he locked eyes with after being sorted into Gryffindor, how she beamed up at him and patted the bench for him to sit next to her. That’s the moment that Frank associates as the beginning of their friendship.

Over the years, Frank and Alice’s friendship has grown into a strong bond of the pair looking out for each other. They’ve worked through countless assignments together, where Frank is always happy to help Alice out with Potions. And Alice teaches Frank about a new jinx or hex that’s been created to cause chaos in return since his shyness has often made him an easy target. 

It was probably sometime between fourth and fifth year that Alice’s infectious laughter and warm smiles began to stir something deeper within Frank. He’s grown accustomed to their study sessions, and late-night hangouts that include swapping stories of Alice’s experiences in the duelling club and gossip Frank overhears during his weekly Gobstones meetings. 

But now, he’s certain he’s ruined their friendship. After a year of wrestling with his feelings and trying to decide whether he should go for it and ask Alice out, he half-asses the invitation and throws their entire amicable relationship down the toilet. How is he supposed to face her for their biweekly revising session? Bloody hell, what’s he going to do if the two of them get accepted into the Auror Academy together? Frank lays his head back on the bed and grabs the pillow so he can smother himself with it.

“Frank, stop, I’m sure it’s not the end of the world.”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see the look on her face.” His voice is muffled by the pillow, causing Robbie to grab it and pull it away.

“No, I wasn’t, care to describe it for me?”

“Mortification.”

Robbie smacks him with the pillow before tossing it aside. “Gonna need some more details than that.”

“I don’t know. It was clear I took her by surprise. She just stared at me, with her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything. Nora and Melanie were giggling. The last thing I remember seeing was her turning to them, and I used that moment to hoof it on out of there.”

“You are hopeless.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

“What do you want me to say? I’ve been trying to convince you to ask her out for ages. I’m telling you, Alice Fortescue has a smile that’s only for you. Never once in seven years has she seemed interested in any other bloke, and she chooses to spend all her extra time with you. Bugger if I know why.”

Frank ponders Robbie’s words but doesn’t allow himself to believe them. Alice is his brave and ballsy friend, the one who takes life by its wings and steers it in the direction she wants. If she fancied him back, why hasn’t she made a move first? And then it hits him.

“Merlin’s pants, Robbie, what if she isn’t into bl—”

A knock on the door cuts him off. Both boy’s heads swivel toward the sound as the knob turns and the door swings open. It’s Alice who peeks her head in. She observes the room and takes note of both seventh-years before she speaks.

“Oh, hi Robbie! I was wondering if I could maybe speak to Frank for a mo’?”

“Hey, Alice. Yeah, sure, I was just, er, leaving.” 

Robbie grabs his wand and school bag and slips past her. Frank notices that he pauses to turn back in the doorway to mouth a ‘good luck’ before shutting the door behind him. Standing in front of Frank now, Alice asks,

“Mind if I sit down?”

“N-no, go for it,” Frank stammers. “I—er, sorry about earlier.”

Frank’s not sure why he’s apologizing as Alice sits down. It seems like the right thing to say as he avoids looking at her at all costs. He picks at a nonexistent speck of dirt on his trousers to distract himself.

“You are?” 

Frank chances a glance in Alice’s direction and sees her eyebrows both raise and scrunch together in confusion. He’s not sure if he’s imagining it or if there’s actually hurt and disappointment in her eyes.

“Er, yeah. I mean, no? I mean—”

“You took off before I had a chance to answer you.”

Bloody hell, why do women have to be so damn confusing? 

Frank has no idea what she’s thinking, and despite being friends since they were eleven, he can’t seem to gauge her feelings at all. At this point, he’s torn between brushing the whole thing off and saying he was extending the invitation as a friend or summoning the last ounce of Gryffindor courage that might be hiding somewhere inside him to go for it and ask her out officially. Instead, he chooses neither.

“Did you come up here to give me an answer, then?”

“Yes.”

Frank waits for Alice to continue, expecting her to give him either a clear yes or no, but she just stares at him, making him feel ten times more awkward.

“Right, so…”

Alice lets out an unbecoming snort. “Frank, you really are slow on the uptake, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“My answer to your question is yes. I’d like to go to the Christmas Ball with you.”

“You—you would?”

Now, it’s Frank’s turn to be shocked. Only in his wildest dreams did he expect her to actually say yes!

Alice nods as she smiles before grazing her bottom lip with her teeth. “As a date, right?”

Frank’s heart momentarily stops, and he has to remind himself to breathe. “I—uh—I, y-yeah! I mean, only if you want it to be a—”

“I do,” she responds eagerly. Her knee is bouncing up and down.

He almost doesn’t hear her confirmation as he babbles on, “—because we don’t, not if it would make things—wait, you do?”

Alice chuckles at his nervousness. “Yeah, and you could have saved yourself all the misery that I’m sure you just put yourself through with overthinking if you’d waited for my response.”

Merlin, she knows me so well. “But Nora and Melanie—”

  “—were giggling because I’ve been hoping you’d ask me out for ages now.”

If Frank could look into a mirror, he’s sure his facial expression would match the one Alice had given him when he’d first asked the question out in the corridor. So many thoughts were racing through his mind that it was a miracle he was able to form a sentence.

“But then, why didn’t you ever ask me?’

Alice shrugs before leaning in and boldly pressing her lips to Frank’s cheek before whispering into his ear, “because I guess there’s still some old-fashioned methods I put stock in, like the bloke making the first move.”

Frank is frozen. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to while all his dreams were coming true. By the time his brain tells the rest of his body to react to Alice’s gesture, she’s already up and halfway to the door. Before exiting, she turns back and winks at Frank.

“I’ve got to go make some plans with the girls, but I’ll see you in the library at seven, yeah? That Auror entrance exam won’t study for itself, even though I wish it would.”

All Frank can manage is a meager nod as he processes the whirlwind of the last half hour. He is going to the Christmas Ball with Alice. She fancies him. Does that mean she’s his girlfriend now? So many questions flood his mind, but one thing was certain: Frank can’t wait to find the answers.

[cozyenigma]

For You

Not sure how I feel about this one, it took me a While to finish

Pairing- Illinois/ Reader

Word Count- 2,426

Request?- Yes!

Summary- Illinois was lackadaisical with his own safety at the best of times. You knew this. You didn’t know how much worse he got when he had a plan in mind...

Tag List- @cookielover0001010 , @swag-droid , @watchoutforfrostbite​

Dangerous to Illinois was more like a suggestion. He'd read the warnings, sure, but then go on his merry way all the same. Adventuring came as easily as breathing. You were torn between being impressed and concerned at the disregard for his own safety.

"Some century old sticks and stones aren't enough to keep me down, darlin'" he'd said once. "Sweet of you to worry though."

Illinois was impossible.

Sometimes he'd even ham it up a bit, just to be a bastard. He'd duck at the last possible second to avoid a spear sailing over his head. He'd pinwheel his arms and act like he was about to fall off a shaky bridge. One memorable time he'd even let go while climbing a craggy rock wall. You remembered crying out. A broken leg would've been a good outcome if he fell from that height. Then Illinois shot you that same smirk and kept on climbing like it was nothing.

You'd have throttled him ages ago if you hadn't already gone and caught feelings.

"C'mon, it's fine."

No, at this rate you were still gonna throttle him. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"No, this is way too dangerous, even for you. We're lucky to have made it out the first time. I don't know why you're so insistent on this."

Illinois put his hands on his hips. "When did a little bit of danger ever stop you, hmm? It'll be easy. I'll just walk in, walk out. Done and done. I get the treasure and you get to watch the professional at work."

The cavalier tone only made you grit your teeth. "We almost died Illinois! Not in the usual whoo that was exhilarating way either! You can't avoid a cave-in like you can a trap!"

The cavern you two had been exploring wasn't too far off the beaten path. Rumors had been floating around that it was home to a forgotten pirate treasure hoard. Illinois had gotten excited almost immediately. He'd been regaling you with old tales of pirates who'd been in the area when you heard it. A deep, ominous rumbling. It had been all around you; you had felt the vibrations through your feet.

The next instant Illinois was shoving you. Your back was already sore from hitting the ground, Illinois using his body to try and shield yours. Illinois' luck seemed to win out though. The floor had collapsed in a deafening roar, the entire passageway caving in just barely ahead of you. You didn't relax until you were out again.

"But I did," Illinois argued now. "Look, I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing darlin'."

"That's not what I'm worried about." You glanced back towards the cave entrance. The sun barely touched the dark inside. "All it takes is one time."

For a moment, Illinois looked you over, searching your expression. Then he heaved a sigh.

"Okay, alright, fine. We'll... think of something else."

Despite his obvious disappointment you practically slumped over in relief. Traps you could deal with. The thought of an entire cave system collapsing on top of you?

"C'mon," Illinois grabbed his pack, tossing you your own.

Your relief was short lived though. The ride back into town was awkward and quiet. Radio was spotty at best out here so you drove in silence. You kept stealing glances at Illinois. The whole day he was talking up this adventure, wondering aloud what you would find down there. You couldn't remember the time he drove without saying anything at all.

"Sorry," you broke the silence. Illinois glanced over, confused. "About the cave, I mean."

Illinois huffed, shaking his head as he turned to follow the dirt road. "Not your fault."

"Well, I know you were excited about it."

Another glance. "Eh," he shrugged a shoulder. "There's always another adventure. You can't expect everything to work out all the time."

You hummed, watching his fingers tap against the steering wheel. The area had more to offer than just treasure. Maybe you could find something the two of you could do instead with the time you still had left. By the time you got back to the hotel though, you hadn't thought of much. Most of what you passed in the city amounted to tourist traps.

"Why don't you rest up, I'm gonna go grab some things," Illinois said, not even stepping into the room.

"Right now?" You turned, bag still in hand. "I can come along if you want-"

"Just gonna get some supplies," his fingers were drumming against the door frame. "Clear my head a bit."

Alone, he meant. You gave him a tired smile, trying not to think into it too much.

"Don't get into trouble."

The trademark smirk almost compared to his usual ones. "Trouble's part of the package deal, darlin'. I'll be back before you know it."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the hotel room. You sighed. Two or three days left in this city. Not enough time to plan much else or try to find a safer route to the pirate trove. Illinois wasn't much of a tourist but you could find something.

You went through the motions. Ditched your bag and jacket, cleaned up a bit, tended to your scrapes and cuts. By the time you could actually rest over an hour had passed. It wasn't that unusual for Illinois but something in your gut churned.

The sun had started to set already. When you peaked out the window you could see the parking lot cast in oranges and pinks. The truck was gone.

Okay. You figured he probably took a drive. Maybe. The anxious pit in your stomach only deepened as you took out your phone. Illinois' number was at the top. It rang once, twice, three times. You hung up in the middle of his cheesy voicemail message.

You cursed, calling again. He better not have. He wouldn't have, right? That damn cave was a death trap!

Even though you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, time continued to crawl by. One hour turned to two, bordering on three. Your bag was already packed and you were on the phone again. Hopefully you could manage to get another car. It'd take you way too long to try and hoof it. If only he'd pick up the phone! You were sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes as you waited for the call to go through when the door opened.

Illinois looked like hell.

His hat was gone, hair covered in dust and grime. A cut on his forehead had dribbled a red trail down his face. What your eyes landed on though was his arm. Half the sleeve was gone, wrapped up in a makeshift bandage. He held it close to himself as he opened the door with the other.

"Oh my god," you muttered, phone forgotten as you surged forward.

Illinois barely had time to get a word out before you were pulling him inside. Just grabbing him left a thin layer of dust on your hands. He let you lead him to the bed, sitting down.

"What the hell happened?" You hesitated, stopping just short of touching his arm. "Illinois-"

Despite doing his best to hide it, you could still see the obvious pain he was in. The grin on his face was strained. "Told you that trouble came along with me, didn't I?"

"You went looking for it, you idiot, did you go back to the cave? Did you drive back here like this?" Gently you reached for his hand only for Illinois to stop you with the other.

"Yes and yes," he answered, casual still despite the situation. "Cave-ins run in pairs, apparently."

"You- you-!" You pulled back, taking a breath. When that didn't work you started to pace, Illinois tracking your movements. "You could've been killed! Illinois I thought you agreed not to go back in there? I didn't even know where you were, what if you had gotten trapped in there?"

"I didn't."

"That's not the point!" You stopped in front of him, breathing hard. "You're lucky you just broke your arm. Do you think you're invincible, is that it?"

Illinois sighed, trying to get more comfortable and wincing. "No. Look, I know you're upset-"

"Upset doesn't even begin to cover it."

"I know you're upset," Illinois repeated, good hand up, placating, "but I don't get into situations I don't think I can handle. I made it back. Can't get rid of me that easily."

The teasing did not help. You didn't bother responding. Illinois watched as you shoved your phone into your pocket and grabbed your bag. He blinked up at you as you walked back over to him, hand outstretched.

"Give me the keys," your voice was flat, leaving no room for argument.

"Worried I'm gonna run off again?"

"No, you ass, I'm going to drive you to a hospital because your arm is broken. Keys. Now."

Instead of that, Illinois reached up and grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. "Hey, c'mon. This is what I do, sweetheart. I get hurt all the time. It's not a big deal."

You yanked your hand out of his. "I don't know how to get this through your thick skull, Illinois, but I care if you get hurt. This is a big deal to me! Why did you do this?"

For a tense moment, Illinois didn't answer. He wasn't even looking at you, eyes set squarely on the floor. Maybe it was the injuries or just the absence of his hat but he looked so far removed from the adventurer you knew then.

"Would you believe me if I said it was for you?"

Oh, that was it.

Your scoff got his attention. "You are such a bastard about these things. You want to get a reaction out of me? Okay, fine! I love you! Is that what you wanted to hear?! You scared the hell out of me because I thought you weren't coming back!"

Ignoring the stinging in your eyes, ignoring how your hands were so tightly clenched your knuckles burned, you glared poison down at Illinois. The adventurer had frozen. Opened his mouth only to close it again.

"You love me?"

The breathless words didn't do much to quell your anger. You rubbed at your eyes, looking away.

"Yeah, guess I fell for you like everyone else does, huh?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch movement. Illinois had reached behind him and was fumbling around with his bag. From the grimace on his face you guessed it wasn't a comfortable position.

"Illinois-"

"Hang on," he interrupted, finally pulling something out. It caught the light as Illinois held it out to you. In his hand was a thin square of gold and it took you a moment to even recognize that it was a compass. A very old one at that.

"You were right," Illinois said, "not really worth it. Most of the time the treasure pirates took were trade goods. Cloth, cotton, sugar, that kind of thing. Nothing that'd survive the whole buried treasure treatment. Found lots but most of it was just rotten. I'm guessing whoever put it all there planned to come back at some point and never made it."

Carefully, you took the compass out of his hand. It fit neatly in your palm. The compass was mounted into a small gold square, the glass cloudy from time. What you could see through it was dark and yellowed. The needle didn't move. Around the compass were hints of a design. What was surely once intricate work was practically worn completely off by now. When you looked up again, Illinois was studying your face.

"That was the only thing that survived." He leaned back on the mattress, looking as exhausted as he probably felt for the first time. "Guess even your favorite adventurer gets a dud every now and then, huh?"

You ran your fingers across the back of the compass. Swallowed and said, "So when you said it was for me…?"

"I was going to save it for your birthday. Or a better occasion than this anyways. Wanted to make it special." Illinois waved a careless hand. "Of course I thought it would be a bit more impressive than what I found. You deserve more than a tarnished old compass."

The whole reason he went back in there was to get you something. You weren't sure how to feel about that. The anger was still there, of course, but now you just shook your head and pocketed the compass.

"I'm keeping it."

"What?" Illinois lets you help him to his feet, luckily standing steady.

"You're going to get that arm set and I'm keeping the compass," you reached into his back pocket, snagging the keys despite his protests. "Then I'm going to yell at you some more because you're an idiot."

Illinois let out a short, surprised laugh. "You can't bully me, I'm injured!"

"That's exactly why I'm going to bully you."

Carefully, mindful not to jostle his arm, you wrap him up in a side hug. Illinois stiffened. Good arm pinned, he had no other option than to stare down at you. He said your name uncertainly. A question. You took a breath.

"We're going to talk about this later but," you held him a little tighter, "next time you don't have to make it special."

"Next time?"

You nodded. "It'll be perfect no matter what you do. Well, maybe without the broken bones."

When you pulled away, the usual smirk you'd come to expect wasn't there. Instead Illinois was giving you a soft smile. A little tight at the edges with pain but there all the same.

"Well, guess I could take that under advisement."

"Advisement," you rolled your eyes, taking him by the hand and leading him to the door. "Sure."

The new few hours were spent in the hospital. Illinois ended up with a cast, a few stitches, and a new story to tell. He didn't seem that put out by the experience, especially since he caught sight of you messing with the compass in the waiting room. You got payback by drawing on his cast.

In the end that "special moment" wasn't all that special. Illinois didn't even wait for the cast to come off, though he did complain about it plenty. Turned out kissing him in the middle of a rant was very effective.

[kkeidawrites]

Adrain x Black!Reader

Notes: More chillin in a giant mansion with a vampire antics! You know I had to put in the cheesy anime trope of falling on ur crush. Also there’s actually a few moments where Adrian isn’t the super crazy smart vampire that legends make him out to be.🥴 This wasn’t supposed to be in any particular order, but I’d say the least naught ones come first so I’d see this scenario coming before the last one I wrote.🤔

“I want to dye my fur!”

You jumped up and down with excitement. Your hands supporting you on the kitchen table where Adrian ate breakfast.

He looked at you smiling, happy that you were happy but still a but confused. You’d suddenly ran into the kitchen with your exclamation.

“Dye your... what?”

You clasped your hands together in front of your chest.

“I would like to dye my fur! But I’m having trouble since I can’t really find what I’m looking for in mansion”

The Belmont library and what was formally Dracula’s Mansion came with a plethora of information on many subjects, but this particular goal came with unique challenges. Dyeing satyrs fur.

“Wait can you not find it out yourself?”

You hummed in thought. You did try researching here in the mansion for the past few days.

“Uh well I can’t find what I need. The mansion has an impressive amount of information here but not quite what I need to dye my fur. A lot of it jus includes our culture and theories. Besides, dyeing our fur isn’t a part of our culture it’s jus something I want to do. I wouldn’t expect to find it here!”

He too hummed in thought.

“Hmm well, why not go down to the Belmont library?”

You beamed with excitement.

“Yeah! That’s what I thought! You gotta go with me!”

He smiled that teasing smirk crossing his arms and leaned back in his chair. The morning light made his already golden eyes look like the most precious of jewels as they shone and glimmered. Ever since you saw him burst from the coffin with Trevor and Sypha you thought they were stunning.

“Oh? Why do I have to go?”

You smiled back and put your palm to your chest.

“Well, I am an amazing climber but I’m not a miracle worker. There is still a giant gaping hole.”

His smile turned into a thoughtful frown as he set his chair back.

“Hmm, I’d forgotten about that.”

The two of you set out to the underground library. As you leave the mansion onto the dirt road, you decided to hold his hand swinging your arms back and forth half to mess with him and half to comfort him. You always made sure to let Adrian have his time alone but you also worried about him. Maybe half vampires weren’t so affected by it but were you come from it was easy for satyrs to become touch starved. You were actually fairly independent compared to your brethren. You liked your alone time too. Perhaps, that’s why you were so in love with your current situation. It was easy for you to be overwhelmed but you also loved making friends and being around others, those two things often clashed

In the mansion, there were certain rooms that seemed like time stopped as moonlight trickled in, perfect for meditation. Then there was Adrian!

As you two were walking towards the ruins of the Belmont house, Adrian smiled down at you. Uh oh you knew that teasing look. He brought your hand up to his lips as he looked down at you with an eye and heat blossomed on your cheeks. You thought you could get away with your blushes undetected with your deep brown skin so you just tried to get a handle on your demeanor when you were embarrassed. Unfortunately, Adrian had informed you he could tell the blood was rushing to my head bright as day even if you did act through my embarrassment. Dang vampire powers have foiled you!

“Stop teasing me!! I’m not letting your hand go!!”

He giggled.

“I was simply returning your affection.”

You pouted.

“Do you do this to mess with me or push me away because you know it embarrasses me?”

His brows ticked up with his lips parted in surprise as he looked at you.

You tried your best to keep eye contact with him.

“It’s fun to bother you since I cannot push you away now. Why, you’ve chosen to stay with me rather than the dog and speaker or living with your own species. I’ve already realized that I’m stuck with you.”

You smiled before laughing.

“Is that what you call Trevor in your head?”

He smirked, and you asked.

“What do you call me in your head?

His eyes flickered to you before looking on towards the ruins.

“Fluffbutt.”

You spat before your laughter tumbled out, squeezing your stomach.

“Oh no! Adrian!”

“What? I thought it was pretty fitting.”

The rest of the walk was pleasantly quiet. Although you had to wonder if your nickname meant Adrian was looking at your butt. By how much he teased you about it and other things, that much should have been obvious but it hadn’t really sunk in till now.

You wondered if... he caught on to how you looked at him.

You hope he hadn’t, because you wouldn’t hear the end of his slick talking.

The two of you arrived at the house and hopped and dodged about the rubble. Adept nimble hoves took you far until you both reached the hole. You tried not to think about how the first time went.

When the 4 of you arrived here. Adrian easily manhandled boulders blocking the library entrance. The three of you stood back on awe. Trevor and Sypha were likely marveling at his strength but you couldn’t stop thoughts of what he would do if he got his hands on you. How rough he could....

You shake naughty thoughts away as you two found the entrance. Unfortunately without some sort of magic, your legs wouldn’t be about to handle the steep hole. Adrain hummed looking down into the crater before crouching down.

“Well then, lets go.”

You looked down at him, brow raised in confusion and your head tilted.

“Hmm? Adrian I take a lot of pride in my legs bu-...oh...oh!”

He’d ment for you to climb on his back.

“Oh Uh w-well then.”

You could tell Adrian was at least trying to hold his laughter.

You walked over before leaning down to wrap your arms around his shoulders and hooking your legs around his waist. As he stood, you got your legs situated comfortably squeezing his narrow hips.

“Now that I’m up here you’re pretty tall.”

That was code for this is a bit scary for you.

“Don’t worry you said you believed in your legs right? I do too, but just in case.”

He wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you closer to his body.

“Hmm for being so strong, I thought your body would feel like a statue.”

You muse. His body definitely felt strong but the muscles felt flexible and soft.

“Come now, this isn’t a poorly written vampire story. But I certainly don’t mind you checking the rest of my body for Ah statue like hardness.”

You hid your burning face in the back of his shoulder.

“Ok, I uh...kinda asked for that one.”

“I would hope so, I wouldn’t want to hurt you. I’m not taking you any other way.”

“I’m gonna beat you up! Stop talking!!”

He only laughed and gripped my thighs before he started his descent.

Adrian handled you as if it was regular to him. Your weight not effecting how light his hops were on his feet. He landed on what was left sticking out of the side of the hole. Broken railings, stairs and balconies. His steps were so effortless smooth. You probably wouldn’t have any problems standing on his shoulders.

Hmm so this was what it was like to be in his shoes.

You supposed he got a tad to confident though because right before you both made it to the ground, he misjudged the strength of one of the beams. It creaked when he landed on it and couldn’t handle the force of him hopping off it. It splintered and split under you both. Adrian reflexively tried to turn your body so he wouldn’t fall on you.

He successfully made his body a cushion for you. Even as strong as he was and how short the fall was you said,

“Ah, Adrian are you-!?”

You pushed up your torso and found your looking at his crotch. His arms just grabbed what he could in the fall you could feel his arms wrapped around your upper thighs. That means, he was looking at your!!

“Oh!! Uhm! S-sorry!!

“No thats my f-!”

He untangled his arms from your legs and you both scampered your respective apologies.

You moved your legs to get off him but hoves and slippery marble don’t quite mix. You slipped and hit his face with your ass.

“Sorry!!”

He tried to ease your concerns but his muffling wasn’t quite helpful. Especially when his nose and mouth were rubbing right up against your crotch.

You were careful not to hit him again slipping off his body with the help of your hands, clothed body rubbing up against one another.

You lifted your leg to the side of him carful not to hit him with your hoof. That would be certainly less pleasant than a cushioned booty.

He had a shit eating grin on his face as he helped you up. Before it seemed an interrupting thought caused him to drop it.

“Wait have you been having trouble getting around the mansion? There rugs in some places but there’s a lot of marble floors...” His grin suddenly turned into a guilty frown, and you rushed to reassure him waving a free hand.

“Oh no! I uh...I use these rubber covers on them so I won’t slip but I uh sorta forgot em...”

You rub the back of your head sheepish.

“Oh I see...”

The guilty in his expression softened, but the frown stayed.

“Uhm th-thank you for asking though, and for carrying me.”

You giggled.

“It wasn’t a long fall you didn’t have to catch me.”

He smiled.

“Well you didn’t have to ask me for my well-being.”

We both smiled not looking at one another.

“Do you need help? Getting around here since...”

I deadpanned before exclaiming.

“Oh shit you’re right!”

There was actually not a lot of rugs in the library. Uggh that’d be really embarrassing being carried around by him because I’m a newborn fawn in skates!

You bit your lip in thought.

“W-well how about this, jus Uhm help me to the rug sections and when we need to move set me down at the next one...?”

He flushed and seemed to be...speechless? He only nodded his head with eager eyes. You put your arm around his shoulder as you stood and yelped a bit when he picked you up bridal style. He smiled almost with your same excitement of you this morning and the two of you went down the stairs.

Well, if there was any question of him looking at your ass...

You...felt a bit shy by how much you realized you liked being carried by him. It was like... even though I had these short comings, I was still cared for and valued by him. It was quiet save for a few teasing looks which you returned with a pout.

The two of you were looking for the best place to start and you were surprised by how many sections of your species there were.

“Hmm well, if you want to dye your fur, then I suppose we should look in alchemy?”

You nodded.

“And anatomy!”

“Mmm yes. I hope they aren’t too far from one another.”

We’d found an alchemy section and Adrian knelt down to place me on the carpet as he let me go, I said thank you.

His lip twitched as if trying to hold a smile.

“You don’t have to thank me for this. This should be expected.”

“But it’s polite!”

“Well, I suppose that’s true but you don’t have to be polite...”

“Plus, you look really happy when I do!”

He couldn’t hold his demeanor with that. He smiled and started to laugh.

“Can I not hide I smile from you?”

He giggled some more when I smiled shaking my head.

We began our search comparing books finding out how it was all organized. You walked about the space you could, luckily the carpet was next to a bunch of book cases you could reach. Adrain wizzed around you appearing here and there. At the moment he was searching across from you. You smiled into the book you were currently holding. A little giddy at the fact he’d go along with your strange experiment.

“So? What color do you want to dye it?”

“Oh! I haven’t even told you! Pink! Pastel pink!”

He snorted.

“You don’t need pink to be cuter than you already are, but as you wish.

Adrian usually wasn’t so blatant about what he thought of me. You heated, surprised, but it seemed he surprised himself too. Currently, you could clearly see him on the second floor when he buried his face in a book. You giggled wishing you could go up there yourself and tease him some more. You’d jump up there but before you could ready yourself to, he’d already appeared before you and swept you off your feet. You suppose that was part of the diversion to keep you from teasing him.

You smirked up at him.

“If you can’t take it don’t dish it!”

He pouted down at me.

He’d carried you upstairs when you both found something of a combination of what you needed to safely make dye for yourself.

You both sat side by side, up against a bookshelf. As you were nodding off, Adrain looked down at you being easily flustered was quite draining! He slid the book and notepad from your slack hands and lead you lie on his lap, draping his cape over you. You felt warm and soft.

A tiny.

“Adrian...?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“How...are we gonna get back up the hole...?”

A pause. Adrain sweat and simply whispered.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

You softly swatted him for the bad pun.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Once again @littlemori24 has given me more of a reason to smile and laugh at her beautiful work! I love this sooo much girl! Be sure to head over to her tumblr and show her some love and check out her other works!

Alucard’s teasing is really sending me!

[noladyme]

The Frog Princess. Chapter 4

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria. 

In stead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All soundtracked by a endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

4

Fall had begun to show itself in Cintra. Reds, yellows and orange colors spread across the trees. We continued through the landscape, which changed from fields and patches of forest; to marshland.

While Roach easily traipsed through the slop, Jaskiers ass was finding it difficult to keep its footing.

“Come on Gertie. Careful with my luggage!”, Jaskier said to it; for the third time having to drag the stubborn thing out of a muddy pool. I laughed. “You named the animal for the barmaid?”, I asked. “Well she did have a way with asses”, Jaskier smirked.

“That’s an image I’m not going to get rid of easily”, the witcher grumbled.

The slop finally releasing the animal’s hoof with a slimy pop, we could continue.

“I’d prefer we get out of this place as soon as possible”, the witcher said. “Foglets?”, I asked, his eyes meeting mine with surprise. I shrugged, and smiled.

“Grave hags, more likely”, he said, looking into the evening mist. “These are former battle grounds. There are still old bones to feed on”.

I shivered. My foot got stuck in a mudhole; and once again the witcher had to grab a hold of my leg to release me from the ground. “You knee?”, he said. “Better”, I answered. “The swelling is down after you let me ride a few hours”, I said; looking thankfully at the red mare he was leading. “Good”, he said. “Keep moving”. He sounded worried.

The ass was once again refusing to move; hooves quickly sinking into the soft ground. “Move, you stupid wretch!”, Jaskier hollered.

The witcher turned his head south, quickly as a wolf having caught scent of a prey. “Get out of here!”, he growled. I felt a shiver down my spine.

Jaskier kept tugging at the poor ass. I ran to join him; taking a hold of one of the legs caught in the mud. “Come on now, Gertie. Move!”, I said, my voice shaking. The ass brayed and shook its head. “Come on!”, I yelled, and pushed against its shoulder. I heard snarling and groaning in the distance. The witcher turned to look at us.

“Run!”

He smacked Roach’s behind, and the horse took of north. I stepped towards the witcher; but Jaskier grabbed my arm. “Remember last time, my lady”, he said breathlessly.

I sent a final look towards the witcher; my heart almost breaking from fear that he might get hurt if he was alone. He looked into my eyes, narrowing his lips; and nodded. Go. I’ll be fine, he seemed to be saying. I nodded back at him; and went with Jaskier to run after Roach.

Behind me I heard snarling and thuds. Metal meeting bone. Roars from the witcher, and shrieking from an unidentified entity.

My heart was in my throat, and I had a metallic taste in my mouth. We kept running; my knee beginning to burn with pain. Reaching what seemed to be the edge of the marsh, we found Roach waiting for us, stomping at the ground. I grabbed her reins; and put a calming hand against her neck. “Sshh, girl”, I panted. “They can’t get you”. I put my arms around her throat, breathing in her musky scent. “He’ll be fine”, I whispered, unsure whether I was trying to convince the horse or myself.

Jaskier leant against a tree, and slid down to sit with his back to it. “I can’t believe it”, he said; tears welling up in his eyes. “Lost. It’s all lost”.

I turned to face him. “Shut up!”, I raged. “He’ll be fine! He has to be!”.

Jaskier looked at me dumbfounded. “Of course he will. I’m talking about my lute and my clothes!”. I shook my head in disbelief.

I heard groaning behind me; and felt another chill down my back. I knelt slightly, and slid my knife out of my boot; quickly turning to face the creature sneaking up on us – ready to attack.

The witcher was covered in mud, and greyish goo. He smelt like rot and pigs’ shit. I made an audible gasp in relief. And then another gasp from the smell.

“Foglets”, he said, and looked at me. I stifled a smile.

He stepped up to Jaskier, and dropped his lute and satchel on the ground in front of him. “Your ass is dead”, he grumbled. “Poor Gertie”, Jaskier whispered; and then began examining the lute for damage.

The witcher looked at me again. “Make a fire. I’ll go wash up”. He left me and the bard; walking towards what sounded like a trickling stream. Passing Roach, he patted her shoulder lovingly.

I began my task with the fire.

“That’s new”, Jaskier said. “What?”, I asked, building the logs how Eist had taught me when I was a child – so that when the bottom logs would burn out, the top ones would light from the embers of them. “Washing up”, he smirked. “Next it’ll be perfume and girdles. Anything to keep the lady happy”.

I threw a stick at him, hitting his leg. “Hey!”, he yelped. “Just stating facts. He doesn’t clean up for me”. “Well, you wear enough perfume for the both of you”, I jeered, meeting his earnest eyes. He raised his eyebrows at me, smiling crookedly.

I looked down, blushing.

---

A while later the witcher joined us at the fire. I’d found a patch of mushrooms, and was just finishing stewing them for supper.

“I thought you didn’t cook”, his voice jolted me. He was cleaner, though still wore his muddied clothes. “Well, I was hungry”, I answered, and handed him a bowl. Once again, we ate in silence.

After having finished his bowl, Jaskier nodded off against his tree; small snoring sounds coming from him, letting us know that it would be a while before he’d wake again.

The witcher unstrapped his sword from his back; and groaned in pain at the motion. I saw a red patch of blood on the back of his shoulder.

“You’re bleeding!”, I said, walking up to him to look at the wound. I put my hand on his arm; but he tried to shrug it off. “It’s fine. I heal quickly”. I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’m sure you do, but it can’t hurt to let me look”. He grunted, and went to sit by the fire.

I grabbed my satchel, and rummaged through it. I found cinnamon and neem, silently cursing myself that I hadn’t kept an eye out for chamomile during travelling. There were extra bandages from the blacksmith’s wife – Bless her heart! – and a needle and thread.

I turned towards the witcher, seeing that he had removed his jerkin and shirt. Sitting there in the moonlight, he didn’t seem to shiver from the cold. The fire lit up his figure; once again letting me see the perfect shape of his body; and the many scars strewn across it.

I knelt by his side; and trying not to touch anywhere but the wound – as to not make myself lose focus – I began to wash it with a cloth. “Ask”, he said. “About what?”, I wondered. “The scars. You want to”, he grumbled. I shook my head and chuckled. “You’re a witcher. You have scars. It’s natural”. “There’s nothing natural about it”, he said. He sounded almost angry.

“I’m sorry”, I said. “Why?”, he asked. “Because I’ve let you think that I… that I believe it’s my business. That I’d think of you as an object for display”.

He turned his head to look at me, as I began crumbling the cinnamon between my fingers. “You think of me?”, he smirked. “Shut up”, I chuckled, blushing.

We were silent for a while. I made a paste of water; neem leaves; and the crushed cinnamon.

He looked into the fire, thinking. “Is that why you don’t want to get married?”, he asked. “Because you don’t want to be a display figure?”. I bit my lip, considering his question. “Among other things”, I answered. “I don’t want to marry a man twice my age”. “Not to mention; a sweaty sister fucker”, he chuckled. “He is sweaty, you know. I’ve met him”. I swallowed bile. “Thanks for that”, I said sarcastically. “You’re welcome”, he said. We both laughed quietly.

He met my eyes again. “But you also want your freedom”. I nodded. “I want to be me – not because of or in spite of – someone else”. I poured some water over his gash again, making him hiss. “I’m sorry”, I said. “It’s fine”, he answered. “So, you want to be alone”.

“No”, I answered. “I want to love someone, without being expected to just be a part of who they are; or have it expected that they are a part of who I am. Two people can love one another, without losing themselves. A relationship isn’t supposed to be an entity, but a partnership. Isn’t it?... It doesn’t need stitches”. “What?”. “Your wound. It doesn’t need stitches”, I said. “I want to own myself, not be owned; and have everything that I am and have , be someone else’s. I want something that is mine”.

The witcher looked at me, expression unreadable. I sighed. “I talk too much, I know”.

“Talking too much is fine, as long as you’re not talking nonsense”, he said. Jaskier gave a snort in his sleep. “Like some people I know…”. I smirked. “He’s your friend. You must like him a little bit”, I said. He grunted with a smirk in response.

I began treating his wound with the paste. He sniffed the air. “No chamomile?”, he asked. I laughed a little. “I guess Thrude forgot to pack it”. I put a piece of clean cloth against the wound; and began wrapping it. He lifted his arm, to let me go around it with the bandage. He flexed his bicep for a second; flinching at my touch; but didn’t pull away.

Once I’d finished, he put his shirt back on. “I taught her that recipe”, he said. I’d been washing my hands; but was halted in my process of drying them off. “You what?”, I asked. “Your nanny, Thrude”, he said. “I taught it to her”. “When?”, I smiled in disbelief.

He smiled, and moved his shoulder in circles, testing it. “When she was just beginning her training. She can’t have been more than 16”. “How is that possible?”, I breathed.

“I’m older than I look”, he answered.

I sat back down by the fire with him. “You knew Tootie when she was a girl?”, I asked, forgetting myself, and using my nickname for her.

He chuckled. “I’d killed an arachas; but it stung me before it died”. He lifted his shirt a little, showing me a jagged scar on his abdomen. “I went to seek help from a… wise woman…”, he said, looking at me, one eyebrow raised. “She was gone to see to a childbirth; but her young trainee, was still at the cabin”. “The one near Rogne”, I smiled; remembering my days there.

He looked at me, and nodded. “I was beginning to lose feeling in my arms, and couldn’t mix the ingredients myself. So, I told her how to do it”. He looked down at my chest; where my necklace was displayed. “She was wearing a necklace with a silver pendant the shape of a small frog. She told me about recieving it on her wedding night the year before. Apparently her husband had died soon after; so, she’d begun training as a vöelve”.  I knew about Thrudes husband. She’d loved him, and couldn’t see herself with anyone else. The witcher continued. “I told her that if she ever needed my help; to send a letter to my friend, Marilka, in Blaaviken; signing it as Frog”.

I looked at him in disbelief; dumbfounded. “Is that why you’re travelling with me?”, I asked. “Did she ask you to force me to marry Foltest?”. He saw my heart breaking in front of him. “No!”, he said, and grabbed my hand. “Y/N… she asked me to protect you; regardless of that”.

I looked at him hopefully. “So… You could let me go. Take me somewhere else!”, I said. “I could avoid this union all together!”. He let go of my hand. “No”, he said. “I’m sorry. I also made a promise to Eist. I have to honor it”.

I shook my head, stifling a laugh. “Everyone makes plans for me. For once I’d like to just have one thing that is mine by choice”.

I stood up, and walked towards the stream the witcher had used to wash up in. “Princess…”, he called after me. “I’m not a princess!”, I roared at him; making Jaskier jostle in his sleep.

I sighed. “I need to be alone. You’ll probably be able to find me, even if I do try to run away; so, don’t worry”, I said. He stood up to follow me. “Don’t!”, I said. “Just please, let me be alone”.

I walked into the woods, not looking back.

---

I walked along the stream aimlessly. The cold night air was biting at my cheeks, but I didn’t care. I breathed deeply; deliberately trying to make myself cry; to rid myself of the sadness and rage brewing inside me, like a painful ball of ice and fire. I wanted to scream; but couldn’t let out a sound.

Finally, I sank to my knees by the stream, meeting my own face reflected back at me; lit up by the moon. My fingers touched the surface of the water, making my mirror image distort.

I can’t run away. I can’t take control of my own life. I can’t do anything that I want to; because I’m someone else’s to do with as they wish. There is nothing that is mine. Least of all myself.

I stood up, and began running. I knew the witcher could find me; but I didn’t care. I just needed to react – to move… somewhere.

Following the stream, I continued running. The birds in the trees around me jolted awake from their sleep; and fled – the sound of rustling leaves mixing with the sound of my panting breath. The trees began to mix with rocks and cliffsides. I almost tripped over some rubble; but managed to keep myself upright.

Suddenly I found myself by a ledge; the drop bellow me at least a hundred feet. I sat down, my legs dangling from the edge.

I couldn’t run any further. I was at the end of the road.

If I want to have something of my own, I have to take it.

I stood up, and was about to turn myself around, when the ledge began to give. The stone cracked under my foot; and I fell.

---

I fell for what felt like an eternity. It was as if time had stopped, and I couldn’t scream.

Suddenly, something incredibly strong wrapped itself around my wrist; holding on to me, as I dangled over the abyss. I looked up, and saw the witchers face – his eyes fiery. He pulled me up with a single thrust of his arm; grabbing my waist in midair, and placing me on stable ground.

He grabbed me by the back of my neck; and let all his rage come at me. “Killing yourself? That’s your solution?”, he roared loudly. “You… idiotic woman! I should have let you drop to your death!”.

Tears welled into my eyes. The witchers face softened slightly; and he loosened his grip on my neck, moving his hands to either side of my face, stroking my cheeks.

“Don’t…”, he said. “I didn’t mean…”. “I wasn’t jumping!”, I yelled at him. “I slipped!”. I hit him in his chest; hardly wounding him; but harshly enough to get him to step back from me. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I want to own my life, not end it!”, I said.

He gazed at me hesitantly. “I misjudged the situation. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d…”. He halted himself. “I don’t know what to say, my lady”.

I looked at his pleading, burning eyes.

I have to take it.

I walked up to him, put my hands around the back of his neck; and kissed him. My lips melded with his, and I grabbed his bottom lip with own.

He pulled back; his eyes searching mine. Then; his face became resolute; he wrapped his arms around me – and our lips met again.

Opening my lips, his tongue slid into my mouth; meeting my own. His hand moved to the back of my head, and he held on to me so close, that I thought we’d meld together. His soft tongue was gentle; but his hold on me was brutal, verging on animalistic.

I gave a soft moan into his mouth; and he pulled back again; examining the topography of my face. “Y/N”, he breathed, and began to pull away. “We have to…”.

I nodded; and we let go of each other.

We walked back to the camp without speaking or touching each other. There was nothing to say, after all. Our brief encounter didn’t change anything.

Once we were back by the fire; he looked at me with cold eyes. “You should sleep. We have to move on at dawn”. “Yes, I know”, I said. “Witch… Geralt. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”. “Forget it. It never happened”, he said, eyes on the ground. I nodded, and went to lie down by the fire; my back turned to it.

I heard him begin to run a whetstone over his sword, and silently cried myself to sleep.

---

The next morning, we were quiet and avoiding each other. Geralt seemed to go out of his way to take the long path around me, when he went to saddle up Roach. I had a dull, grey pain in my stomach; making me unable to accept the chunck of bread Jaskier offered me for breakfast.

He sighed. “All right. Who insulted who this time?”, he said teasingly. “My lady, did you call Geralt an overrated sell-sword again?”. “Shut up, Jaskier”, the witcher growled. Jaskier retreated. “And I’m the sensitive one…”, he mumbled, and went back to nursing his blistered feet.

I went up to him, and handed him a garlic bulb. “Rub this on the soreness. It should help”. Jaskier looked skeptically at me. “Garlic?”, he asked. “Won’t it just make my feet smell?”. “Can’t get much worse”, I shrugged.

“Thyme would be better”, the witcher grumbled from behind me. I clenched my jaw. “I don’t have any thyme”, I said; and went to pack up my own belongings. “Use the garlic”, Geralt mumbled to Jaskier. The bard rubbed the bulb against his foot, and put on his socks and boots.

The witcher took my satchel from my hands, and fastened it to Roach’s saddle. “Time to move, little frog”, he said. Little Frog again. Nothing’s changed, I sighed to myself – unsure whether I was relieved; or sad.

We began walking again; moving northeast. Our next destination; Tigg.

---

Thanks for reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

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@ayamenimthiriel​

[jawlinedolan]

Sugar Cane Nymph (G.D.)

Sugar cane nymph (G.D.)

disclaimer-> i’m colombian so english is obviously NOT my first language. i’m fluent and generally have non-terrible grammar but I usually just  write academic stuff in english. i have only ever written fiction in my mother language before this so please bare with me while i get used to this.

this took a while to write omg it wasn’t supposed to be this long, anyways enjoy and PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE let me know what you guys think about it?💓💓🎊🎊

TELL ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE A PART TWO

summary: Grayson meets his mom’s new neighbor after an unexpected for legged visitor ivades Lisa’s Garden.

word count: +5k

warnings: some minor swearing, a whole buch of flustered grayson and hopefully a bit of humor? also i did not proof-read this sorry

Poor Grayson. For the millionth time that night something was disturbing his peaceful sleep. First the frogs and now his mom chooses this moment to do laundry.He thought half asleep. His hazy mind couldn’t for the life of him imagine any other reason for the incessant rumbling that was currently penetrating the walls of his tiny bedroom. He was mad. All of that crunching and crashing outside had taking him out of his amazing dream.

Oh, and was it an amazing one. So beautiful, just like her. He didn’t even know her name yet her image had managed to plague his every waking moment and now it seemed his slumber too. Not that he minded though, his dream had brought them closer.

He needed his sleep because he needed to wake up early, otherwise he would miss it, miss her. He had discovered her on his first morning run ever since coming back home. He always thought that Jersey had the prettiest countryside in all of North America and now he was sure of it. How could it not be with such a gorgeous nymph galoping around bareback on top her trusty steed. She was out there every morning at exactly 5:50 a.m.

Dammit. When had he became such a sap? Grayson knew he was attractive and he definitely knew how to use it. He had never encountered trouble wooing the ladies before. But this one, oh this one was different. There was something about her, he didn’t even knew her name but he just felt a certain way when he was around her. Well, more like spying behind a particularly dense bush that surrounded the little clearing where she ended her ride every morning. And that he had found on pure coincidence . If you could count trying to conspicuously keep up with a galloping horse for a quarter of mile as coincidence, that is. In his defense he just couldn’t let her get away, it was like she was pulling him without even knowing.

Each morning she would ride up there and he would be waiting behind the bush to watch the show. He could hear it’s powerful hoves before he could devise the big black stallion. Even her horse was different. It had a beautiful shinny black coat that the women at his mom’s beauty salon would envy. It’s mane and tale cascaded down his body in actual curls. Just like hers. He had never seen a horse that didn’t have straight hair.

It was sort of funny, one of the first things he noticed about the mysterious girl was her long and lucious curly hair. And she looked so in sync with the beast. With the dark curls and big brown eyes they almost looked like family.

She was short thing, as he noticed when he saw her stading next to the horse for the first time. He reckoned she would reach to his chest or his shoulders, at best. Her thick thighs hugged the animal’s torso right before she jumped off its back, squatting on her landing which made her delectable ass stretch her jeans. It all looked pretty profesional and innocent, still, he couldn’t help but imagine those beautiful legs wrapping around his waist while his big hads supported that delicious bottom.

Was he seriously getting exited at a half asleep memory or was it just morning wood?

He ignored that thought and kept his eyes closed, continuing with his hazy recollection.

Their conection was amazing, it was just her and her beast. She didn’t use a saddle or tack. She simply spoke to it, like one would another human being, and then she would scratch it’s neck. After that the thousand poud animal did everything she asked. It reared and bowed at her comand and, sometimes, she would let her hair down and they would spin and jump around almost like they were dancing.

No matter how many times he hid behind that bush to watch them, Grayson was in awe at every single thing she did. To him, she was completely mesmerizing.

So mesmerizing, in fact, that he could never bring himself to step out from behind his reliable bush to say hi. She seemed nice enough, surely she wouldn’t think he was some sort of creepy stalker, right? Except, at this point, he kind of was. But his little nymph didn’t need to know that.

Giving up on sleep he decided that if his mom felt the need to do the laundry two days in a row he better find a way of his own of being productive. But upon opening his eyes he was surprised to be greeted by darkness and those stupid frogs chirping outside. He tapped around until his long fingers got a grasp on his cellphone and squinted when the damned thing nearly blinded him with it’s brightness.

Then suddenly the laundry room was shaking again.

“The fuck” he groaned sleepily.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the light emanating from the screen of his Iphone he let out another groan, silently cursing the digital clock that read 4:25 a.m.. His alarm would be ringing in less than an hour for his morning run and he was super tired because some frogs had decided to serenade him until one in the morning. How come they aren’t sleeping yet?

Then there was that rumbling again. But when he realized that his mechanical roommate would be empty of dirty clothes at such unholy hour he began to worry. It’s not like the house was near the street, whatever or whoever was causing all that ruckus had to be in the property. He crept out of his room barefoot trying to be conspicuous and stealthy, even though the cold floor was torturing his toes.

He reached the front door after a quick stop at the kitchen to grab his mother’s big trusty iron frying pan in case he needed to attack. He made a mentan note to not leave everything that could be a potential weapon inside his building shed next time.

After taking a fortifying breath he grabbed the doorknob and turned it as delicately and silently as man his size could manage.

At first glance nothing on the porch seemed out of the ordinary, but when he turned the lights on he noticed it. An overturned plantpot which used to contain an colorful flower that, according to his mom, was an exotic plant that her friend had brought her from her vacation in the caribbean. His mom couldn’t stop talking about her colorful little flower when they showed her her new garden and how she was going to give it a special place in it. And now some rascal had savagely munched on it leaving only the dying stems amongst the dirt.

Suddenly the early morning was eerily silent again. Grayson tried to slow his breathing while straining to hear anything tha would give away the position of the invader. His heart was just about to beat out of his chest, the house was in the middle of nowhere, anything could be out there.

When he finally heard something he couldn’t believe his ears. High pitched and clearly irritated he barely recognized it.

Was that a neigh?

He followed the sound and finally got his answer upon glancing at Lisa’s Garden. The animal that appeared tu be stuck near one of the flower beds looked like a horse, kind of. It had a mane, a tail, four hooves, pointy ears and it was distinctly neighing, everythig pointed that it was a horse. Except for the fact that it couldn’t be any taller than three feet. It seemed he was in presence of a miniature horse.

Quickly running to his building shed he grabbed his diagonal pliers to cut the wire that had most likely trapped his hoof. But when he came back to help the little guy found him with his head deep into the nearest flower pot casually having a 5 a.m. flowery snack.

“Hey! Stop that!” he yelled trying to separate the little beast from it’s colorful victim. “YOU LITTLE FUCKER” Grayson yelled when the animal actually bit him for trying to take away his meal. Weren’t horses suposed to be vegetarian? Well if it liked flowers so much who’s to say it didn’t have other bizarre tastes... like fucking human flesh.

Waking up from all the noise Lisa walked outside to see her 6ft tall 200lb son wrestling a mini horse for a pot of half munched flowers. And she knew their equine visitor very well.

Grayson looked up from his struggle to see his mom walking out of the house with her phone in hand. He looked at her pleadingly and she just chuckled.

“Don’t worry sweetie I called his owners, Emperor’s mom is coming to pick him up as we speak” She told him.

“Wait you actually know where he came from?!” He let go of the animal and marched up to the woman comfortably clad in whool robe and warm slippers while he was out there shirtless and barefoot, hair stuck in every direction, trying to defend their home.

And of course in that moment his beloved brother decided to join in the fun from his bedroom window. Ethan let put a loud snort at his twin’s dishiveled appearance.

“Dude, what happened to you?” he asked in between laughs.

“Shut the fuck up E!” Grayson yelled looking up to his brother. “It could’ve been a murderer or some shit” At that Lisa couldn’t contain herself anymore and let put a loud laugh. She walked towards him with his coat in her hands that she had retrieved while the boys bantered.

“Oh realx sweetie! I don’t think you can die from cuteness overload” She paused while Grayson snatched his coat and glanced at the small black horse. to speak to it in a baby voice. “Ain’t that right Emperor?”

He put on his coat over his otherwise naked torso and and ran his hands through his unruly hair, exasperated. His mom speaking to the little monster briefly reminded him of his beautiful nymph and how her horse actually seemeyto listen, unlike this urchin that had breakfast on his mom’s flowers. He sneered at the animal before speaking.

“So you know the owners, ma?”

“Yeah, they’re sugarcane farmers. Our neighbors up north.”

“Up north? That’s dairy farm?” Grayson replied maliciously. Of course it would be dairy people that would own this mini horse devil. It just made sense.

Lisa just chuckled again at the grave look on Grayson’s face. Ethan just observed carefully from above how Emperor finished a pot of tiny purple flowers and was stretching his little neck trying to reach the next one containing daisies. Or at least he thought that’s what those were, either way it was simply hilarious.

“That’s north of the road, Gray. I’m talking about north of the property, they grow sugarcane organically. ” She explained exitedly.

“Oh... well whoever they are they better come get their poor animal soon.”

“They are already on the way, I just sent Denisse a text” She replied sternly, her sons could be the biggest men-child sometimes. “And even though they’re not vegan, I can assure you they take real good care of their animals.” Since Grayson didn’t seem all that convinced she continued, “Especially their horses, Denisse’s daughter has wall full of horsemanship thophies and first place ribbons, that girl spends hours everyday tending them.”

“Well apparently not enough” He grumbled brooding. “This one is clearly not that educated”

“Oh, Emperor is just a bit... energetic”

Oh hell no. She was actually gonna deffend it.

“ENERGETIC?!” He snapped. “ He ate your exotic flower and destroyed the garden! He’s a monster in a small package!”

“Gray it’s okay. And you’re exaggerating he didn’t destroy anything he just turned a few flower pots.”

“What about you exotic kayacka or whatever it’s called!” He kept on yelling. “HE ANNIHILATE IT”

Grayson was seething at this point. He loved animals and nature, he had gone vegan for God’s sake. But this was just too much, nature had basically trampled him in the last 12 hours. First the god forsaken frogs screaming their slimy little lungs out kept him up half of the night and now this!

This annoying piece of horse flesh had not only awoken him at the fucking asscrack of down, but it had also destroyed the garden he had busted his back to buid for Ma, who was currently laughing at his missery. And as if that wasn’t enough he was more than likely going to miss his secret appointment with his beautiful nymph.

“It’s called a cayena and he didn’t do it intentionally , Gosh, calm down” She pinned him with a stare “And it’s not that big of a deal, there’s more where that one came from I’m sure Denisse wouldn’t mind. Plus her daughter will more than likely begg to help picking up this mess, like I said she always looks out for the horses” She pursed her lips starting to get a annoyed at his irrational fury. “As mother would, she’s always picking up her childs messes”

“Well if she is such a great horse mom, how come her child is a freakin flower eating tornado” Grayson replied grudgingly, feeling like a scolded child for something he didn’t even do. Was he seriously talking about this horse like it was a person?

In the middle of his ire he looked down. Now that the sun was starting to illuminate the early morning he could see it had a kinda nice chesnut color and his beady ayes were staring eagerly at the daisies, that were just a few centimeters out of reach. If it hadn’t been such a nightmare Grayson could almost see himself looking for his allergy pill after petting the cute tiny thing. But it had messed with his garden and managed to get stuck, now he was going to have to ruin the chicken wire to cut him free. So no, Emeperos wasn’t all that cute anymore and after looking at the redish bite mark on his hand he definitely didn’t want to pet it. Lisa’s voice interrupted his musings.

“Listes, go put on you shoes, get yourself some breakfast and try to calm down. Denisse’s daughter shouldn’t be more than a few minutes away, I’ll look after him in the meantime”

“Oh no no, I’m gonna have a word with this chit and she’s gonna fix this immediately.”

Lisa was about to stop Grayson’s angry rambling until she spotted a rider and horse closing in on the house from the north trail.

“I mean, who the hell does she think she is? Letting her animals trample around and how long tilll-“

“Oh my Gosh! I’m so sorry Mrs Dolan I can’t believe he’s done this again.” A female voice rung melodically behind him accompanied by the resounding thudding of heavy hooves on grass. “Emperooor” the voice groaned “ what was it this time?”

Grayson knew that voice, and even if he had never heard her giving soft commands to her intimidating black stallion he would have recognized the feeling she stirred in him. That fluttering on the left side of his chest, the earthquake of butterflies in his stomach, that familiar sense of calmness that only her could bring him. 

Lisa´s voice brought him back from his momentary day dream.

“Well son it looks like your wish came true” she said so only he could hear and the raised her voice to greet the girl rapidly approaching them on horseback. “(Y/N) , sweetie, hello!”

Grayson turned around utterly speechless. Astounded by her beauty and awed by the mere sight of her as she dismounted  gracefully from the familiar black stud, who was actually saddled this time. 

She stepped away from the huge beast and walked towards where they were standing near the garden. With every step closer that she took Grayson felt his lungs closing up on him. What was I supposed to say to her, again? The mini horse, right. 

“I’m so sorry Mrs. Dolan. I don't know what to do with him anymore, ever since we moved up here he seems to find new ways to scape stalls and squeeze to fences daily” (Y/N) kept babbling out her sincere apologies while she come to hug the older woman whose garden had been vandalized by her favorite Shetland.

“(Y/N) I’ve told you a hundred times it’s Lisa, and don't worry about it I understand you mother is always telling me how hard you try to keep Emperor in check” She replied glaring slightly at Grayson whose jaw had fallen slightly ajar, she elbowed him discreetly bringing him back from whatever dreamland he was in. “Can't speak for the big man here though, he was a little distressed earlier”

As if he wasn't having a hard enough time (Y/N) shiny browns eyes peered up at him shyly stilling his lungs once again, and a lovely blush spread on her chubby cheeks. He followed the rosy trail with his eyes to the top of her round breasts wondering how far down her body would it reach. And when she spoke softly to him, he was a goner.

“Oh... I’m so sorry, I promise I will fix it up right away” When he didn't reply she added “I'm not as great as Lisa but I’m a pretty decent gardener, I swear its gonna look  brand new” Gosh, this was embarrassing. He was so handsome and she has just let her mini-horse ruin his mother's garden. 

Lisa’s elbow once again spooked him out of his catatonic state.

“Oh don’t be modest, I bet it’s gonna look better than before. Right, Gray?” Seeing the look in his eyes, she quickly decided that (Y/N) would have a little help fixing her plants. “Sweetie, I know you've made good friends with Cameron but I don't think you've met my sons before”

“No ma’am, I don't think I've had the pleasure” (Y/L) replied in a low voice very unlike herself.

“Okay this is Grayson and that nosy one with his head stuck out the window is his twin brother Ethan” (Y/N) glanced in the direction Lisa was pointing and sure enough there was buzz cut head sticking out the second floor window with a smirk plastered all over his angular face, ready to yell a greeting to his brother’s dream girls. Gray had described her so many times with so much detail that it was scary but it also allowed him to tell right away when he saw the curly haired girl atop the black horse.

“Why good morning Miss Horsey Neighbor (Y/L) it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance” Ethan yelled with a flirty smirk that he knew was sure to infuriate his twin.

“The pleasure is all mine, good sir” (Y/N) replied with a laugh, following along on his joke. Ethan seemed like a funny guy, she could see them becoming friends. The other brother though, they had the same sharp jawline and handsome features, but Grayson’s intense stare was definitely something else. She felt intimidated yet...exited?

Grayson stuck his hand out dumbly trying to get her attention back from his brother.

“I’m distressed and it’s okay, I wasn't Grayson” he vomited his words while trying to produce a smile that ended up looking like a grimace. (Y/L) offered him a blushy smile back none the less.

“It's a pleasure Distressed”

“Huh? Oh, fuck!” Nice job champ let her think you're fucking retarded “ it’s Grayson! I’m Grayson and  was not  distressed. I was just um...” He trailed off looking to his mom for help bur she merely shrugged “I was uh... worried! For the mini! Poor little guy just wanted a snack and ended up stuck in the chicken wire.” 

He stuttered and stumbled trough his explanation but (Y/N), who was usually very perceptive, was still so embarrassed and flustered that she didn't notice he was lying.

“Okay. So, he shouldn’tbe snacking on flowers, anyways, he knows that” (Y/N) mumbled walking towards Emperor who had stopped  struggling towards the white daisies and was now waiting for attention from his favorite human. “Alrighty pal, what did you get yourself into” She kneeled on the ground and started inspecting Emperor’s little hoof stuck on the wire. She tried to pull it out but it was too tight, the wire had tu be cut.

Meanwhile Grayson stared amazed at how the little horse devil had turned into horse putty in (Y/N)’s hands. His ears pointed towards and he rubbed his furry neck on her arm looking for scratches. No sign of the Shetland that had rudely attacked him earlier. He looked down at his hand and noticed that the bite mark was barely visible now, maybe Emperor wasn't that bad after all. Maybe.

“It’s too tight if we don't cut the wire he could hurt himself” (Y/N) announced looking up towards Lisa but the taught about it and directed her glance towards her son, who already had a cutting plier in his hand. “Do you think I can borrow that?”

“Yeah, sure, here you go” He was about to hand her the tool when Lisa widened her eyes at him at pointed her chin to the girl crouched con her garden. “Actually, let me do it” He corrected, kneeling down right next to her so that his strong shoulder thighs brushed against her blue jeans. He heard vaguely a big impatient snort behind but paid no mind to de large stallion that stood where (Y/N) had tied his reigns to the garden fence. The thing was so big it could probably pull the fence right off the soil, but instead stood patiently waiting for his master.

“I live in farm y’know I think I can manage a pair of pliers” She replied slightly annoyed that he wouldn't hand her the damned thing.

“Oh, don’t mind him honey he just loves playing with his tools” Lisa pitched in from above them. Grayson prayed nobody noticed his flushed face, but his nymph was deliciously close to him for the first time. Never before he had had the chance of perceiving her intoxicating scent, it was sweet almost like melted sugar right before it turns into caramel.

“I don’t play, ma! I build stuff”  He looked up at his mother with a look half annoyed/half pleading. “Besides, I’m sure you're more than capable of cutting some measly chicken wire, I just thought you could keep him calm so that-”

“Oh my God! You're totally right.”

“I am?”

“OF COURSE, he could run around as soon as he's free and continue to dismantle this poor place. Good thinking, Grayson” 

Was that even his name she just pronounce? He didn't remember ever sounding so good.

“Yup, yeah. That's it” Yeah I totally wasn't trying to show off for you, nymph.

(Y/N) resumed scratching Emperor with one hand while the other pushed on his neck  to give Grayson as much room to cut the wire as possible. Since the kids seemed to be getting along quite nicely Lisa decided to make herself scarce.

“Well guys I’m gonna get inside and make some breakfast” She received two distracted hums and with that she left, not without throwing a pointed glance up at Ethan who immediately stuck his head back inside.

A few minutes later Emperor was a free and happy Shetland. Since he had already eaten, clearly, she decided she could get a head start on the mess the mini had made before riding back home for breakfast. She attached a lead-rope she had brought to the his halter, that he was miraculously still wearing, and tied him to the fence. Grayson just watched her, still kneeling by the dirt bed, she moved so naturally between the mess.

“I’m so sorry, really. For the life of me I have no idea how he came to eat flowers  on the first place, I will bring over some seeds later but I’m gonna start cleaning this now, do you have some gardening tools I can borrow?” She was a little breathless after spurting out all of that, she was so nervous now that they were alone. 

He got up and dusted his sweatpants.

“Sure, they are in my building shed” He replied puffing out his already beefy chest, his building shed was his pride and joy. “Just let me grab my boots real quick”

“Oh that’s okay I ca-” but he was already running inside.

A few minutes later after running a hand through his hair numerous times to tame his bedhead in front of the living room mirror, they were walking a bit closer than necessary to the shed.

“So, you like building a lot?” At that Grayson put on full display his million dollar smile.

“You could say that” He said looking around the shed for the gardening toolbox.”I build my mom that garden, I mean me and my brother did it but he was more like an.. assistant” Grayson could have swooned when he heard her laughter but instead focused on grabbing the box from the top shelf. 

“Are you kidding? I could have sworn that was made by a professional?” She replied, seemingly impressed while they walked back. 

“Why thank you, n- (Y/N)” He put the box down next to the first overturned plant pot “I appreciate that” Oh he appreciated it, alright.

“You know, you don't need, it was my horse after all” she sat criss- cross and started rummaging trough the box.

This was it, Grayson needed to pull his shit together if he wanted to make a good first impression on this gorgeous nymph that was eagerly staring up at him, waiting for an answer that his dumbass was unable to produce. With his shaking hands conveniently hidden inside his pockets, he stared confidently into her deep brown eyes and pulled his most charming smile.

And then they got to work. All coquettish smiles, blushing faces and casual hand brushings. They talked about building, horses, video games and even the process of cultivating high quality sugar cane without using pesticides. Grayson was over the moon being the sole focus of her attention, he had waited so long for this. He watched  as she pulled away from her face the rebel curls that scaped from her ponytail wishing he could run his hands through the luscious strands and wondering if her round cheeks would be as soft as they looked if he were to touch them with his rough fingertips. He was so immersed in her that didn't realize that their work was done when they picked up the last of Emperors victims, the cayenne on the porch. 

Standing on the recently clean porch steps they took a minute to admire their hard work. Or at least for Grayson they were to admire her.

“Well, this is it, thank you so much for you help Gray, you didn't have to” Did she just called him by his nickname? He had to be dreaming.

“It’s okay” he murmured observing how she had to crane her neck up to look at him, she was such a shorty yet when she spoke she appeared larger than life. She was simply amazing. “Time flies when you're having fun” He replied while they started walking towards the horses that were snorting impatiently.

“It was kinda fun, wasn't it?” she untied the big black horse and with one hand she held Emperor’s lead rope while the other pulled on the saddle Horne making for a swift effortless mount. Grayson stood a few steps away looking at the stallion curiously. “You can come closer, Spirit is a perfect gentleman, he likes firm pats like this” He smiled at her demonstration and brought his own much larger right  hand to Spirit’s thick neck and let his left one rest cheekily above her knee.

“Spirit” he tested the name on his tongue “Is that his name?” he was looking up at her, for a change, and its was making her breath speed up.

“Well his registered name is actually Indomitable Spirit, my grandma rescued his mom with a poachers arrow on her side” (Y/N) cringed at the memory of the beautiful mare covered in blood “She didn’t have any hoseshoes and her teeth looked like they had never been floated, she was skittish around people... but not as much as the tipycal wild horse. It was like she was scared but she still wanted something from us. Then we realized it was because she was heavily pregnant, it only took us a couple of days to figure out she was close to due date. A month later she gave birth to the most adorable foal with a coat as black as onyx stone” Grayson basked in the glow of her radiant smile remembering how her horse came to this world.  And when her face fell, his did too.“It was a  difficult labor and she wasn't fully healed yet from her old wounds. The blood loss was fatal, she was too weak to even stand but she pushed through until she was done and the she just closed her eyes and never opened them again. Later on we confirmed she was a mustang so we named him in her honor. You know, most pregnant mares are nightmares, but not her, it was like she knew we would take care of her baby.” She paused at the dreamy look on his face ”Sorry, you probably didn't need the whole pony tale story, I blabber a lot sometimes... a lot of times, actually.”

“No its fine its fine,” he replied hurriedly “I love it, I mean, the story- its quite beautiful,”

“Glad you liked it” She blushed again and Grayson could have pulled her down from the saddle right then and there to cover her cute ass face with kisses, but he contained himself and tried to focus on what she was saying. “Again I’m so sorry about the garden”

“Actually, now I’m looking forward to Emperor’s next great scape if that means i get to hang out with you ” There it was, he had laid out the bait, he could only pray she take it.

“That could very well happen, but I would hate to destroy your garden again” She chuckled nervously

“It would be worth it if I can see you again, soon” The hand on her knee squeezed and his eyes stared hopeful into hers. “Or maybe, we could just grab some vegan ice cream sometime”

“That sounds nice” She started turning her horse around to hide her very obvious blush, but he saw it and it had his heart fluttering and a big cheesy smile appearing on his face. 

“Vegan ice-cream it is, then”

[theundercovermarvelfan]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 27

Whumtober Challenge @whumptober2020

Day 27 Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage 

The rain came down in torrential sheets. Lightning pierced the sky about once per minute, while thunder rolled through with almost a palpable force. The wind whipped around at a staggering force, already picking up debris. 

“I think it’s about time to get the hell out of here,” Clint announced over the comms.

The five Earthbound Avengers were scattered throughout the area. Bruce had remained behind in the Quinjet, Natasha and Steve had infiltrated the compound and taken out their target, Clint had been posted in a tree on a hill to provide sniper support and Tony was flying overhead for aerial support. 

And then the storm had rolled in. 

Clint had eyed the dark clouds warily during the mission. He didn’t like the way that they look or how quickly they had been moving. He had Bruce check the weather radar from the jet, and he had reported that a storm was indeed heading their way, but there weren’t any significant warnings associated with it. But Clint couldn’t shake the ominous feeling in his gut. After all, he had grown up in Iowa, affectionately nicknamed Tornado Alley. He had learned early only to have a healthy vigilance when it came to thunderstorms. 

“The storm’s coming at me from the other side of the Quinjet,” Tony said, tension lacing his tone. “I’m not going to be able to fly toward it, I’m gonna have to land and hoof it in.”

“Yeah, you’re going to want to get your ass out of the sky and ditch the metal suit before you get fried, Stark,” Clint said as he was climbing down out of the tree he had been perched in, blinking rain water out of his eyes. 

The blur of red streaked out of the sky and landed heavily not far from Clint. 

“Natasha and I are heading back to the jet to regroup with Bruce,” Steve said. 

“You might want to have a more stable option ready, Cap,” Clint said as he squinted at the sky, noting how the lightning was flashing much more frequently than it was just a minute ago. The storm was progressing really quickly. “Bruce, any weather alerts?”

“A tornado watch was just issued for the area just a few minutes ago,” Bruce reported. 

“I always forget, which is worse, the watch or the warning?” Tony asked, his tone unusually tense. 

“Warning is worse,” Clint said -- vaguely aware of how he had to talk louder in order to be heard over the roaring wind -- as he started to hurry in the direction that Tony had landed. “We’re still in the ‘could happen’ territory and haven’t crossed into the ‘probably will happen’ arena. You get rid of that armor, Stark?” 

“Yeah, the armor’s on an autopilot retreat,” Tony said. There was a bright flash that emanated from Tony’s location, causing Clint to skid to a halt for a moment. “And I’m very glad I’m not getting cooked in it right now.” 

Clint started moving again, hurrying until he managed to spot Tony, who was heading toward Clint. 

“We need to get to lower ground,” Clint said quickly, motioning Tony to follow him down the steeper side of the hill. 

“The jet is that way,” Tony said, pointing in the opposite direction. 

“The jet isn’t going to be any use if a tornado comes through and throws it like a ragdoll,” Clint said, quickly crossing the distance between them and grabbing Tony by the arm. “Right now, we need low ground.” 

“But, Bruce said it was only a watch--”

“Clint, Tony, we’re back at the jet with Bruce and the tornado watch just got bumped up to a tornado warning,” Steve suddenly snapped over the line. 

“Get out of the jet,” Clint ordered, tugging Tony after him as they headed down the hill, Tony now hurrying along and falling into step beside him. 

“We’re out and looking for a safe place to hunker down,” Natasha assured him. “You and Stark need to do the same.”

“Working on it,” Clint confirmed. 

The ground under their feet was losing it’s stability by the moment with the torrential downpour and they were half running, half sliding down it in their haste. Clint’s gaze darted around as they ran, looking for something -- anything -- that they could use for shelter. The lightning was now flashing nonstop, the thunder a continuous roar that vibrated down to Clint’s bones. There was also something else behind the drone, something higher pitch that sounded like…

A freight train.

“Go, go, go!” Clint shouted as he shoved Tony in front of him and toward a small rock outcropping he had just spotted. It was too small for both of them, but anything was better than nothing at this point. “Cover your head,” Clint yelled as Tony wedged into the outcropping, Clint wedging in as close behind him as possible. 

Just in time for the world to be torn apart. 

Clint squeezed his eyes shut and threw his hands over his head. And then all that they could do was huddle there and pray that the incoming tornado decided to spare them. Clint could feel debris striking his exposed back, some small impacts and others large enough to send jolts of pain through him. The wind was now a defining roar, drowning out even his voice to his own ears as he tried to yell at Tony to keep still when he felt him shifting -- later finding out he had just realized that Clint was still exposed and was trying to make more room for him. 

Then, it was as if he had been grabbed around the middle and ripped him violently out of the outcropping, flying through the air for a brief few months before everything suddenly went black. 

XxXxX

“Clint! Clint! Where are you!?” 

“Clint! Can you hear us!”

“Clint!”

“Clint… Over here! I found him!”

Clint blinked blearily as a flurry of voices slowly made their way into his consciousness. Brown, green and red blurs drifted around him dizzyingly. His whole body ached with pain, and there was a strange sensation of something falling on him. Water? 

“Clint? Can you hear me? Please?”

At the sound of Natasha’s voice, Clint’s head instinctively shifted in that direction. A gentle hand put pressure on his shoulder, another hand carefully weaving into his hair. Slowly, the world began to return to focus. 

“Nat?” Clint rasped. 

The relief that washed over Natasha’s face was enough to knock her back on her heels. “He’s alive!” she called over her shoulder. “Bring the Quinjet around!” 

“Wha’...?” Clint murmured, still not understanding what was going on. 

“You got your ass kicked by a tornado, Feathers.”

Clint’s eyes wandered up at the sound of a new voice. Tony. And then it all came rushing back to him so suddenly that it took his breath away. Clint eyed Tony critically. He had some visible cuts and bruises and he looked terribly disheveled, but he was still in one piece. 

“You’re going to be okay,” Natasha assured him. “I don’t see anything too serious here. You must not have gotten pulled into the tornado, just thrown by some of the outer winds.”

“Is tha’ all?” Clint said as he huffed something between a laugh and a cough. 

“Steve and Bruce are on their way with the jet,” Natasha said. “They’ll be here in a minute and then we’ll get you all nice and put back together. Okay?” 

“Sounds good,” Clint sighed. 

It was yet another reminder that no matter what evil the Avengers were fighting… Mother Nature was going to do whatever the hell she wanted. 

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming pt 38

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay

Z

“What the hell happened to ‘I’m not going to do anything rash?’”

Briar had spent the last fifteen minutes pacing around the room that the maid took us too after our talk with Flora and Rayne. I got the sense she didn’t really approve of my decision.

I glanced over at her, she had been quiet for a while. I had hoped she’d go to her room so I could sleep, but apparently she felt we needed to discuss this. “I didn’t do anything rash. I came here to get Sasha back and this is the offer I was given. I had hours to decide if I would take any offer they gave me. I want Sasha back and I don’t want Eos to have the satisfaction of getting any kind of victory.”

“Z.” Briar hesitated for a moment. “Eos is probably going to leave you alone now. Maybe it’s better to just… let go?”

I slowly sat up and stared her down. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think there’s another Sasha out there? Maybe you should let her go and star-”

I cut her off, I could feel my blood boiling. “I don’t want another one. I want her back. I picked her out and she was perfect. She’s my dog. She’s not a horse and she doesn’t belong to Eos. If you don’t mind, I'd like to try and get some rest before tomorrow.”

I could see Briar biting her tongue as she breathed in deeply, probably trying to calm herself before she said anything else that would cause the night to get worse. “Z, you know what’s going to happen to you. I don’t know how long it’s going to last. Just get some rest and prepare yourself for the worst. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Before I could say anything, Briar left the room and closed the door behind her. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Today had been one of the worst days of my life. But knowing that I was going to get Sasha back finally put me at ease. I just had to fulfill Rayne’s contract and Sasha needed to hold on awhile Molly’s group removed her from Eos’s clutches.

For the first time in awhile I fell asleep quickly, eager to begin. The faster the morning got here the faster I’d get her back.

Jude

The stablehands parted to let us walk through as Callidora and I re-entered the barn. Part of me wished that Miss Eos would have made her start her first marathon in the morning like we usually did with the ponies, but after she acted out I was glad that she was going to be corrected immediately. She was going to learn what her life was going to be like the hard way after willingly giving up a chance to run.

Not that I thought the mare was anywhere near broken yet. I’m sure she was trying to think of a plan to escape. Being compliant would theoretically help her find a chance to escape. I’m sure she tried that stunt with Z.

But that’s what the marathon was for. A harsh introduction to her new life. To leave her too physically exhausted to even consider escaping. Followed by sleep deprivation and another run. Most of the ponies that managed to complete this gauntlet could barely stay awake on their feet. They were more malleable at this point. You could start enforcing new rules they would be desperate to follow as long as you promised them some rest.

We turned down the pathway and made our way to another section of the barn. The exercise room. The first marathon was always on the treadmills so we had complete control over their experience.

As the treadmill came into sight I felt her dig in slightly. I looked back at her. “Recognize these? Miss Eos said that Z had bought one of these. That stupid filly really had no idea how much control Eos had over her life, there was nothing that Eos couldn’t see.”

I gave the leash another tug and she acquiesced long enough for us to reach the edge of the treadmill. She dug her heels in once more, much to my annoyance. “Apparently Z bought you a lot of fun things you probably never got around to enjoying. I’ve never seen Z care about anyone, but she basically spent her life savings on you. Now all she’s left with is her thoughts and a basement full of things made for you that you’ll never get to use.”

I laughed and gave her leash another tug, sending her stumbling forward onto the treadmill. I attached the leash to a spot on the treadmill while I went across the room to get the rest of the supplies. She may have come in here with me, but I didn’t trust her to not be stupid. I knew I made the right decision after I could hear a rustling noise across the room. Most likely her trying to see if she could dislodge the leash.

I was going to have fun watching her marathon.

I walked back to the treadmill and found her pretending to be a little angel that hadn’t just been trying to break the rules less than a minute before. I placed a whip, a crop, a cattle prod and a collar on the table next to the treadmill. I held up a collar for her to see, then snapped it around her neck.

“This collar isn’t as fancy as the one Z got for you, but it does it’s job perfectly fine. I’m going to ask you a series of questions and you will nod or shake your head to answer. Understand?” I threw her the softball to see if she was going to need some reinforcement or not. Much to my disappointment she nodded her head yes, if a bit hesitant.

“You’ve been on a treadmill like this before, yes?” A nod. “You understand how it works, the barriers and such?” Another nod. I was glad I was saved from having to explain how it worked. I unhooked the leash, there was no need for it when she couldn’t leave the treadmill. “Tonight is your first marathon. Z ruined you in a few short days and it’s my job to fix you and get you used to your new life. The word marathon is quite literal. You’ll be running twenty-six miles.”

Her eyes widened and she started to complain, wagging her foot around and trying to keep her balance. The dumb mare was probably complaining about her new footwear. I picked up the cattleprod and pressed the button. An arc of electricity went between the prods just inches away from her face. It made her shut up quickly.

“The collar keeps you on the treadmill. The crop is for me to use to keep you motivated. You’ll be enjoying it a lot on this run. The whip is if I feel you just aren’t listening. This cattleprod is if you are actively trying to piss me off. I’m sure you think you know how badly electricity can hurt after your old collar, but let me assure you that the shock you got from that was probably a static shock compared to what this will do to you.” I smiled and put it back down. I had made my point and she had quieted down. As much as I wanted to hurt her, my job was to train Eos’s ponies. I wouldn’t hurt her more than I needed too, though that didn’t mean I didn’t want her to wash out.

“You’ll be given things to drink as needed. You might be surprised given what will probably be happening to you over the next few days, but we want you alive and healthy. You have a use and it doesn’t help us to have to have you get sick from dehydration. Nod your head if you’re ready to begin.” I watched her look around her surroundings for a few seconds. Maybe to see if there was any way out of this. She shifted on the treadmill away from me and faced towards the front of the treadmill and tried to find a good starting position. A surprisingly eager pony, I’d never trained one that willingly started. After a few deep breaths she nodded and I started the treadmill.

Eos

Callidora had done surprisingly well for a while. I watched her marathon from my office, I wasn’t planning on introducing myself until morning. There were cameras all around the barn, including in the treadmills themselves. I wanted to make sure I had a good view of the proceedings.

Most ponies started to break down around the ten mile mark if they had any amount of stamina. The shoes were the problem. I’m sure Callidora could do the full marathon without too much of a problem if she had normal shoes, but the hoof shoes pony slaves wore were just high heels without the heel on them. It was a beautiful aesthetic and completed their look, but it came at the price of stamina. Doing a twenty six mile run in heels wasn’t exactly easy.

At this point Callidora was fifteen miles into her run and just starting to show signs of serious fatigue. She was drenched in sweat and occasionally I saw her stumble. But I couldn’t help but smile at what I was watching. Most of my new ponies cried and begged from behind their bit. They wanted mercy. They wanted it to stop. It wasn’t that I thought Callidora wanted to do this, but I saw determination in her eyes to not give up. A determination to not break. She truly thought she was good enough to show us wrong.

I was starting to see what Z liked about her.

I heard Callidora grumble out a complaint as Jude hit her ass with a crop again. At this point it was bright red. There were marks on the side of the treadmill that Callidora couldn’t see, if she feel behind them she’d get hit with the crop. It was a great motivator.

When I took her away from Z I figured she might wash out of the program, Z had done such a terrible job with Callidora. Maybe I’d make her another cow or just have her kept bound so she could be used as stress relief for the stallions. Maybe a piece of furniture if she really misbehaved. But with how well she was doing she truly had the makings of a great race horse. The farm had some occasional wins, but we hadn’t found a true champion in awhile.

My thoughts were interrupted by a phonecall. It was close to midnight so I decided to ignore it and keep watching Callidora. Then I got another call. I picked it up and immediately hung it up, hoping whoever it was would get the message. Then it came a third time and it was fed up and picked it up.

“What?!” I was beyond annoyed at the persistence of whoever this was.

“Miss Eos Rosalind?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Of course it is, who else would it be?” I snapped.

“Miss Eos, my name is Seraphina. I’m one of this region’s enforcers. Given your status as current head of the family I was given the order to call you. Your niece, Rhiannon Rosalind, has been arrested.”

“Arrested?” I repeated the words out loud, they didn’t make any sense. “Arrested for what?”

“Stealing from another member. At the moment her probation is in jeopardy and the people she stole from are pressuring for a harsh punishment.” The bitch on the other end of the line had the nerve to sound bored. “We’re seeing if we can find anyone willing to defend her, currently there are no witnesses who can collaborate her claims of being framed. We’re calling to see if anyone in your family is interested in defending her and attempting to re-establish her probation.”

“Who did she allegedly steal from?” I knew the answer that was coming, but I hoped it would have been someone else at the party.

“Flora Feles.” That name made me want to snap the phone in my hand in half. “The gift in question that was stolen was a necklace made by Emerald Pluto as a birthday gift to Flora. Rayne Feles is putting pressure on the enforcers to terminate her probation and end her chances to become a member. This is a yes or no question, Miss Eos. Will you or anyone in your family consider defending her?”

“No one there saw it happen? No one there can say she didn’t do it?” My blood pressure was spiking as I was desperately looking to grab onto something I might be able to use.

“I’m afraid not, Miss Eos. We talked to several prominent members at the party. Diana LaLuna, the Dollmaker. Lucian Lurpeko. Z the Torturer.” She listed a few more names, but I had stopped listening when she said Z. That jade was talking with the Feles and Rhiannon just happened to get arrested. I resisted the urge to grit my teeth.

I took a deep breath and interrupted her. “No. No one in our family will. She’s on her own.”

With that I hung up. Rhiannon was a lost cause given the circumstances. She wasn’t worth saving. There was little chance of actually getting her out of trouble and even if I did our family would lose a lot of face from it.

I picked the phone back up and dialed Jude’s number. She had no way of speaking to me, but she wore an earpiece at all times so I could contact her. I heard a beep that indicated that she had picked up the call.

“Jude, increase Callidora’s running speed by three miles an hour for the remainder of her run.”

[sweetdonutwolf]

R6S How You Met (SPETSNAZ)

I tried my best writing these staying as true to their characters as possible. This is for the Spetsnaz operators onlyKapkan, Tachanka, Glaz and Fuze

Warnings: Hunting and killing of animals, death of an animal. Very mild and I mean MILD smut in the form a quick kiss

Y/n= Your name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spetsnaz

Kapkan:

While out hunting you spotted a deer, it was a nice big buck, a 10 point by the looks of it.You pulled back on your bow steadying your aim. Letting the arrow go you watched as it headed for the target. A gunshot rung out in the distance, startled you looked away from the deer for a moment, it must have been another hunter close by. You headed towards the buck now dead on the ground.

As you walked over another figure appeared, a man walked up to the buck and started to pick it up.

“Hands off my deer dude” You were stern with your voice.

“Your deer?” The man had a just as stern voice.

“The deer with the arrow sticking out of its side, yeah its mine.” You flipped the animal over revealing the broken arrow sticking out from its heart. “See”

“You see this?” He turned the deer back over pushing its leg forward. He looked up at you, a bullet wound was clearly visible. “I got the shot off first therefor it’s my kill” he began picking the deer up. “Now I’ll take my deer and be on my way, better luck next time.”

“Wait lets talk about this.” It was a decent sized 10 point buck, the biggest you’ve ever shot and you weren’t going to let it go that easily.

You guys began going over proof as to why it was your kill arguing back and fourth. After about 30 minutes  of trying to figure it and not knowing who actually shot it first you guys decided to talk it over at a local bar. 

At the bar you and him completely got side tracked with other conversations laughing your asses of completely forgetting about the damn deer, which by the way was in the back of his truck. 

“So you’re telling me that you hid so well during hide and seek as a kid that they called search and rescue on you?” You began laughing.

“ It was a proud moment from my childhood” He laughed and took a sip of his drink. “Even search and rescue couldn’t find me till I came back out and greeted them.”

You raised your glass up. “That’s impressive, it explains your hunting skills”

“What about you how did you get so good at hunting?” He put his glass back down.

You looked him dead in the eye. “I hunted down all my Ex’s who wronged me.” You tried not to smile when you saw his expression change. You gave him a quick nudge on the shoulder laughing. “I’m kidding of course”.

“ I thought so” He looked relieved as if he actually believed you. “Plus with your hunting skill I’m surprised they haven’t found any bodies���. He gave you a nudge back.

“Ha-ha very funny but probably true”.You both had a little laugh.

The night went on and after another round of drinks he drunkenly gave you the buck saying it was gift to you for being so beautiful. You blushed which made him smile.

You guys had to be kicked out of the bar once it closed, neither one of you wanted to leave, you haven’t had this much for a while. Before parting ways he helped you haul it into your truck and you  gave him your number as a thank you after all you guys seem to hit it off pretty well. 

��You fumbled for your keys and you soon realized none of you were in the condition to drive. 

You both called a cab and with very good persuasion he got your cab driver to agree to you letting the dead buck in the car with you as long as you kept it covered of course. 

“I had a very fun time, I never got your name though.” He asked as he kindly opened the cab door for you.

“Oh right, it’s y/n” you sat down in the cab and looked up at him. “And yours?”

“Maxim Basuda” He held his hand out.

“Nice to meet you Maxim, thank you for the wonderful time.” Your hand met his and you gave it a friendly shake.” Next time I’ll teach you the proper way to hunt”. You let a little smile appear on your face.

“And I’ll teach the proper way to wrap a dead deer” He smiled and pointed to the dead animal next you in the car with its hoof hanging out.

You let out a little laugh. “Deal, goodnight Maxim, we’ll have to do this again soon”

“Till next time” He gently closed the door and the cab pulled away.

You went home that night feeling happier than you have in ages. Who knew from an argument that so much laughter could follow. Maxim called you the next day and planned your next outing together. 

Tachanka:

Sitting at the reception desk bored out of your mind you checked the schedule for today, it was fully booked. The door opened looking up the man caught you eye almost immediately. A big burly looking man came towering in, his presence alone shifted the feel of the room for you. You sat at the reception desk not knowing you were staring at him as he approached. He waved his hand in front of your face.

“Are you blind?” he continued to wave his hand in front of you. “Deaf too i see.”

“I’m so sorry, I---I was just lost in thought sir, how can I help you?”. You perked back up embarrassed by what just happened.

“I have an appointment for Alexsandr Senaviev, it’s for 11:30″ He let out a grin. You realized you were blushing and now thinking about it made you blush even more.

You quickly checked for his appointment, your cheeks still flushed from before. What was this man doing to you? You have only known him for less than 5 seconds and he’s already made you all flustered. 

“I’m sorry, What time was the appointment?” You realized you got lost in your own thoughts thinking about him. His charm was something else you thought.

“So you are deaf” He said back in a joking tone. “It’s for 11:30″.

You finally confirmed his appointment and asked him if he could wait in the waiting room. 

You kept telling yourself not to stare but you found yourself looking up at him on more than one occasion. Luckily you never caught eyes with him. You just couldn’t get over this gut feeling you had about him, he held himself so confidently. He was a big man after all but you felt a gentleness to him like underneath his rugged exterior was a soft hearted man and that kept drawing you closer to him and made you even more curious.

He finally got called back after what seemed like for ever. He walked by you and you looked at him once more. His eyes meet yours, you began to feel your cheeks go red again and quickly looked away. You were in love. I can’t be you kept telling yourself, it was foolish to feel this way about a stranger.

About an hour passed and Alexsandr came walking back out and stopped at your desk for a brief moment.

“We already have your next appointments planned out for the next couple of months sir” You looked up at him.

“I wanted to give you my number” He slid you a piece of paper.

“W-We already have that Sir” confusion filled your voice.

“I know but this one is my personal number” A grin grew on his face again making you blush for who knows how many times in a row now.”I’d like to take you out for dinner sometime, if that’s okay.”

“I-I-----” You were at a loss for words.

“ I’ll take that as a yes then.” He left the paper on your desk and began to turn around to leave.

“Yes!” You don’t even know where that word came from, you just said it without even thinking. “I’d love to”. You began to smile as well.

Alexsandr gave you a nod and headed out the building. Of course you watched him till the last second.

Your whole work day from then was spent daydreaming about the perfect date you’d have with him. You went home that night with butterflies in your stomach anxiously waiting for him to reach out to you. 

You guys went on your first date a week later. It was better than you expected way better, you had a feeling he was with his boisterous humor and booming laugh. You guys hit it off right away as if you were old friends and the rest is history.

Glaz:

Wondering the exhibits of the art museum always had a way of calming you. You felt connected to the pieces as if each one would take you to a whole different world, each piece had a painter and each painter had a story to tell through their work.

You finally reached the last room where your favorite painting hung alone in the back. Often overlooked, the painting of a lone bird perch on a tree branch spoke to you more than any other painting did. You stood looking at the delicately painted bird thinking how he resembled you in a way, all alone with people right next to you and in his case birds flying high in the background.

You felt the birds pain of being left behind by others, you were always a loner people judged you for being different and teased you for always having you face buried in an art book. You stood there taking in all the detail of the painting every brush stroke had a purpose, it was almost like a story to you. Each stroke added a new part and you couldn’t see the full story for what it was till the painting was finished and the last brush stroke was painted.

.Losing track of time you quickly checked your phone for the time not realizing how late it had gotten.

“Damn it.” You said under your breath.You had a date in less than 20 minutes at the other end of town and there was almost no way you’d make it on time.You had to rush out of there. As you took a step back you bumped right into someone, the impact making you fall back a bit, your bag fell to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I can be a klutz sometimes.” You said embarrassed about the whole situation. You looked at the man and noticed a scar on his left eye.

“You’re okay, it’s no big deal.” He had a rich Russian accent to his voice it was almost scary in a way.

“I really didn’t see you there.” You brushed your hair away from your face as you went to retrieve your bag from the ground.  Before you even crouched all the way down he reached down and picked  it up and handing it back to you.

”No harm done.” He held out the bag and you took it from his grasp.

“Thank you” You began hurrying out the building.

The date went horribly. It wasn’t because you were five minutes late, that didn’t bother them at all. It was the fact that you spoke about art too much apparently. You weren’t surprised though everyone lost interest the moment you starting talking about it. They all gave you the typical glazed over look as they nodded randomly as if they had any interest at all.

This date was worse though. They ridiculed you for liking something so mundane saying you must be wrong in the head if you believed they talked to you. You had to hold back tears before you decided to get up and storm off.

Furious and heartbroken yet again you went back to the one place that brought you some comfort, the art museum.

You wondered back to your favorite painting tears began to gather in your eyes. You kept thinking you were unlovable and that no one would love you for who you are. You sat down on the bench in front of the painting and stared at the little blue bird who you related to so much. 

“You’re a lot like me little bird” You whispered under breath, a tear began to roll down your cheek. You quickly whipped it away.

“Rough night?” You knew that voice, looking up you saw the man you had bumped into earlier.

“You can say that.” You whipped away the rest of your tears as he sat down beside you. 

“I’m Timur by they way”. 

“ Y/n”. You replied back

“This is my favorite painting too” He pointed at the little bird painting. “ I like it because all though the bird is alone he’s the star of the show, everyone takes notice to him first.” He began pointing to the flock of birds painted above.        “Those guys are noticed last, they’re painted too similar to each other that they almost just fade away all together.” 

You sat there taking in his words for a moment, the two of you just sat there and took in the work. It was nice hearing someone talk about art the way you did it was a rare encounter to experience it seemed.

“I always saw him as lonely” You turned towards the man. “But now i see it, if everyone was the same like the birds leaving the other one the world would be boring, there wouldn’t be art with its own story to tell like this one.” He looked at you. “I mean that’s not a world I’d want to live in.” You noticed you were rambling on again like you did on your date. “I’m sorry, I can get kinda side tracked with this stuff, you don’t have to sit here listen to me ramble on” You locked eyes.

“I find it very interesting actually, it’s funny how things can represent and be seen in so many different lights”. He looked back at the painting.

You guys continued to talk about it before he asked you if you’d like to go around the museum with him. Gladly accepting his invite you spent the next couple of hours walking around talking about the other art works you felt connected to.

The sky grew darker and the museum was about to close. You started growing tired. Noticing this  may be his only chance Timur asked for your number. You gladly gave to him planning out your next outing together in the process.

Fuze: 

Your friend Eliza always tried to set you up with men before all of which never worked out in the long run. You wanted a guy who could stay level headed in any situation, one that knew what they wanted in a relation ship instead of beating around the bush for it.

 Eliza reassured you that this time she got the perfect guy for you. You felt like an idiot for ever agreeing to it in the first place. Another night of torture and complete bullshit conversations, you thought to yourself as you got your last shoe on. It was supposed to be casual but you did add a little extra with a nice necklace that your grandmother gave you. It was a dainty little diamond necklace that your grandfather bought before they moved out of Russia.

Arriving at the restaurant you could see Shuhrat through the window already seated. You had to do a double check at your phone to make sure you weren’t late. Just as you thought you were right on time as you walked through the door. Eliza had exchanged photos of you two prior to meeting so you knew what each other looked like.

Seeing you Shuhrat stood up and pulled out your chair. Water was already at the table, you saw it as a kind gesture.

“ Thank you” You sat down across from him. “ I hope I didn’t make you wait to long you must have gotten here really early.”

He took a seat. “It’s how I make sure who ever I meet is timely, if so it shows they’re serious about it all, I do like my partner serious.” He gave you a little smile.

“And I like men who know exactly what they want from a relationship” you returned a smile.

“Looks like its already working out, Eliza may have finally gotten it right for once.” He took a sip of his water.”She told me how she failed in the past on numerous occasions and that I couldn’t fuck this one up either, and as far as I can say I hope I don’t fuck it up either.”

“I won’t blame you if it doesn’t don’t worry, Eliza on the other hand won’t hear the end of it.” You laughed, Shuhrat joined in with you letting out a chuckle.

The waiter came by and you ordered your food. Shuhrat order some fancy Fish dish that you couldn’t pronounce and you ordered the steak. You guys continued talking about what you looked for in a partner and a relationship. You enjoyed getting it all out of they way so you both could see if you were on the same page.

“I have to say it’s a breath of fresh air to meet someone so sure of themselves as you are, and I don’t mean that in a bad way.” His voice was smooth with a lick of a Russian accent.

“I just like skipping the bullshit that’s all.” You took another sip of your water.”I don’t like wasting my time on someone for it not to work out in the end.”He nodded in agreement.

The food arrived and you guys finally moved on to other conversations. He talked about his time in the Spetsnaz, well as much as he could legally tell. He told his stories with so much passion. You could feel yourself falling for him. You guys continued to eat discussing various topics from the best movie ever made, which you guys had a civilized argument about, to what your future plans were. He told you that with his line of work he was never guaranteed that he’d make it back alive, his work was risky and he made sure you knew that.

“Everything we do is risky, I could choke on this last bite of steak and die right here.” You put the last bite in your mouth. “ See i just took a risk.” He laughed securing that he enjoyed dark humor which was another plus in your book.

 He gazed at your neck “That’s a very nice necklace, it suits you nicely.”

“Thank you.” You began twirling it around in your fingers.”My grandpa got if for my grandma before the moved”.

“So you have some Russian blood?” He smirked picking up his glass.”Just when I thought i couldn’t like you anymore.”

You blushed. It looks like you cracked his hard outer shell Eliza was talking about after all. Speaking of you knew she’d never let this down, the fact that you finally had a good time on one of her set up dates was going up there with her personal list of accomplishments.

You two sat a bit longer after finishing your meals this time you were talking about your memories of Russia from when you were a kid. Shuhrat finally had to go he had some training in the morning he couldn’t miss.

“I had a really great night, Thank you y/n”. He pulled your chair out once you stood up. “I can’t remember a time where I talked so freely to someone in a long time.” A smile was plastered on his face.

“Same to you, I’m not looking forwards to hearing Eliza brag about us though.” You laughed, together you two made your way outside. Shuhrat walked you to your car and opened the door for you, a true gentleman you thought. Before you got in your car you looked up at him and went in for a kiss. Shuhrat seems surprised at first but changed his mind quickly and kissed back.

“Till next time.” You left his lips lingering for more and got into your car.”

Shuhrat gave you a final wave goodbye before turning before his car. You made it home and instantly got a call from Eliza asking how it went. Tired though you fell asleep on the phone mid call.

[lenademonn]

All This Time - 3

*Summary: Elena used to be closed off and composed, always in  control of her feelings and actions. She knew how to survive long before  world ended and didn’t need anyone to keep her alive. Because  attachments are liability, make you weak especially in this new world  where dead are walking and living are more dangerous than before.

A slow burn Daryl Dixon x OC; from season 1 forward, ongoing. Angst, Violence, strong language, sarcastic humour and more.

Warnings: Swearing, some anger managment issues.

Chapter 3

Day 45 The next day was quiet; the silence between Daryl and me uncomfortable. He woke me up a few hours before dusk, which meant that he took the long shift, nothing new in this aspect. He laid down without saying anything after waking me up, and I spend the next few hours watching the area and thinking about our conversation from before. Daryl woke up before I even had a chance to shake him awake. So lack of sleep, that's another thing I can add to my list of what I know about Daryl Dixon. We quickly packed what little we had and started trekking through woods, following the tracks we noticed yesterday. Finding them wasn't that hard, especially not for a brown-haired man. What turned out to be a challenge was picking up a fresh trail. We walked around for good three hours before Daryl crouched down to touch a set of hoof prints when I followed his action I could tell that those tracks were fresher than the one we found previously. Next to me, the man looked around the forest ground and pointed the way he thought we had to go. It took us another hour to finally find the animal, we spotted it standing in the middle of a small clearing, nibbling on grass. Daryl stopped and rose his clenched fist, signaling for me to stay still. I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly took an arrow out of my quiver, and lined it up on my bow and stretched the string. Steading my breathing and not taking my eyes out of our game, I was waiting for Dixon's directions. He also prepped his weapon and was watching the animal intensely. "Three, two, one," His whisper was barely hearable, and once he said 'one', we both released our arrows. His bolt hit the deer in its side while mine pierced its belly. Animal yelped in pain and took off instantly, its steps uneasy. "C'mon!" After hearing Daryl's voice, I moved quickly jogging after the animal, to not lose it in the woods again. I was pretty sure that I nicked some significant organs, and even though it didn't go down, it should bleed out soon enough; in that case, we didn't want to lose sight of it and allow geeks a free lunch. We followed the trace of blood left on the ground and leaves for some time when we heard a piercing scream, and I realized how close to the quarry we actually were. It sounded like one of the women or even one of the kids. Oh God, I hope it's not Carl or Sophia and that it's nothing. I quickly looked at Daryl. "That's coming from the camp, hurry up Dixon," Before he could react, I jogged in the direction we heard screaming. It didn't take us long to approach the edge of the camp. Daryl moved in front of me at some point, shoving me behind him when we heard concoction just in front of us. Advancing slowly, we finally emerged into a clearing, and I could see familiar faces of Shane, T-dog, Dale, and others. They all were pointing some sort of weapon in our direction.

"We surrender?" I joked while Shane put his gun down, mumbling under his nose. Dixon, on the other hand... well, he was pissed. And I wasn't surprised when I realized that on the ground just in front of us was a headless geek and half-eaten deer. Our fucking deer, the same we were tracking since yesterday. "Son of a bitch" Brown-haired man moved from in front me, around the bushes towards the deer. "That's mah deer!" His accent deepening signaling how angry he actually was. "Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard." With each word, he gave a sharp kick to the geeks' side, letting his aggression go somewhere else than people in front of us. "Calm down, son. That's not helping," Oh Dale. Why would you say it to Dixon? Do you have a death wish? "What do you know, old man. Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'. I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pointed a finger in Dale's general direction and moved on to retrieve his bolt. I coughed as a reminder that I'm still here. "We. We tracked that deer for miles, Dixon!" Saying that I finally made my way to the dead animal and crouched down to get my arrow. "And by the looks of it out of our shots, mine was more deadly, so technically this deer is mine, you asshole!" I quickly stood up and wiped the blood off my arrow with my rug, then I put it back into the quiver and made my way back to the camp. On my way out, I made sure to push Daryl out of my way with my shoulder. Who the hell does he think he is? We've been hunting together for months now, and yes, of course, I may not be as skilled as he is, but for fuck sake, I am not terrible. Ignoring the men, I patted Amy and Andrea on the shoulder while walking past them. "Good that you back safe" I gave them a small smile and made my way towards the camp to find Lori. She stood next to the RV with Carol and a few other women. When she saw me she smiled, but I could tell it was strained, and I started to have a bad feeling. I approached them and took the zip bags with meat out of my backpack, watching people in front of me carefully. "That's all the meat we got, it should be enough for a few days. We got a deer as well, but fucking geek gnawed on it before we could get to it." I passed the bags to Lori and Carol, as they were the best cooks out of us, trust me you don't want me to cook you dinner unless you're willing to be ill after eating it. "Thanks, Elena, it means a lot. Listen--" Lori started playing with her fingers, after putting the meat bags on a small foldable table next to the RV's door. So there was something wrong. "There isn't a good way of saying it. Merle was left behind on that run, and we know that Daryl will be so angry, and he is really unpredictable in that state. Can you try to calm him down when the guys gonna tell him?" She sputtered, and for a second there a thought I misunderstood what she said. Merle left behind. What does it even mean? Before I could ask any more questions, I could hear Daryl shouting for his brother, and I felt so bad for him. And angry with everyone who went for that run, how could you leave someone behind?! I mean yeah, sure Merle Dixon is a colossal dick and dumbass, but that's not the reason to just-- "Merle, get yur ass out here. We got us some squirrel." He smirked in my direction when he noticed me looking at him "Yes, I said 'we', women. Merle!" I really hoped that my face didn't show any emotions because that was just heartbreaking. And I was also slightly concerned for whoever will deliver the news to him. "Daryl, slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane was the one to speak, and behind him, I could see the rest of men with a new face in between them.

"Hey, Amy, who's that guy behind Shane?" I asked the blonde woman who was now standing next to me on my right.

"You won't believe it. That's Lori's husband." The fuck? I looked at browned haired women and then at the new guy and tried to hide my surprised face. This is going to be interesting. Making a mental note to ask Lori all about that, I focused on the conversation in front of me.

"There was a problem in Atlanta" Shane touched his face for a second, showing how uncomfortable he was saying it and then moved his hands to rest on his hips. Daryl looked around and hold my gaze for a second before he took a few steps.

"He dead?"

"We're not sure." After that, Daryl moved towards Shane, his voice getting louder.

"He either is or he ain't."

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." I could see this new guy move forward, and towards Daryl, he wasn't looking directly at him at all.

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes"

"Rick Grimes, ya got something ya want to tell me?" Oh, I could tell that Daryl is starting to lose his patience. Yeah, I know, he doesn't have a lot of it in the first place.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there" When this Rick guy answered, I found myself moving forward too, annoyed at what he was saying. What stopped me was Daryl and his face full of tears when he turned around away from the new guy. He glanced at me for a second before wiping his eyes and then clenched his jaw, turning back to Rick.

"Let me process this. So, ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof, and ya left 'im there?"

"Yeah," Answer was short, and I could hear the shame in the new guy's voice, then with anger on his face, Daryl threw a string of squirrels we caught this morning at Rick Grimes and was ready to beat the shit out of the guy. That was until Shane literally tackled younger Dixon to the ground. Shane quickly stood up while brown-haired men was still lying on the ground, but I could see him reaching for his hunting knife, which was secured on his belt.

"Daryl -" I was cut off by T-Dog, who dropped the logs he was collecting.

"Hey, watch out for the knife!" At this same moment, Daryl got up and swang his arm at Rick, who dodged it. That didn't stop younger Dixon, he moved again, aiming at the men in front of him, but Rick managed to avoid it again and get a hold of Daryl's wrist pushing it away from both of them. Shane sneaked behind Daryl and put him in a headlock. With that, Dixon was shoved to the ground, with Shane's arm still around his neck. In the meantime, Rick pried the knife and dropped on the ground away from the fight.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl was still struggling and trying to get away.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't" I rolled my eyes and finally made my way towards the three of them.

"Shane, let him go!" Using my stern 'work' voice, it usually worked well with criminals and kids, mainly with kids.

"Daryl stop struggling, please. Just calm down for a second so we can get a full story out of them." I crouched in front of him and looked into his blue eyes, now full of tears and rage, his chest rising quickly and his fists clenched, one by his side and the other around Shane's arm, trying to ease the hold. He looked at me for a while and nodded, making me smile just a little.

"Shane, let him go! You know I can handle him if necessary." Both of them looked at me now, one unsure of what to do and the other with a look of pain in his eyes, even though it disappeared very quickly. Shane finally let him go, so I took the opportunity to turn toward this Rick guy and T-Dog.

"Great, now can someone tell us what the fuck happened in Atlanta, and how could you leave a man behind?" I put my hands on my hips, face blank, but my eyebrows rose slightly.

"What I did was not on a whim, Ma'am. His brother does not work and play well with others. He beat T-Dog and was shooting from the rooftop, attracting more and more walkers to our location." Daryl and I exchanged a look, he was biting his lower lip, a clear sign of anxiety. Yeah, unfortunately, what this man was saying was sounding precisely like Merle Dixon.

"It's not Rick's fault." That came from T-dog, "I had a key. I dropped it." Now my face was for sure, showing surprise and confusion, but it was Daryl who voiced what I was thinking.

"You couldn't pick it up?"

"I dropped it down the drain" I run my hand over my face trying to compose myself, while Daryl just scoffed in disbelief.

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." He finally stood up and tried to walk away from the group—T-Dog's voice stopping him in his tracks.

"Maybe this will. I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him with a padlock." I looked up at them, confused.

"Are you saying that Merle is alive?" I asked in a low voice.

"Yeah"

"You fucking idiots. Don't you think that's the kind of information you should start with?!" I nearly shouted in Shane's face, seeing as he was the one to start all this show.

"Hell with all y'all. Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him."

"He'll show you." Lori's voice was calm, but when I turned around to face her, she was anything but. Oh, I see how it is. The first day back and the Grimes family already got problems.

"Yeah, I'm going back."

*

As I was getting ready in my tent, I tried to not listen to what else people got to say about all that. I re-checked if my knives were secure and put my short sleeve blue flannel shirt over the reins. I checked if my Glock is fully loaded and put it in the holster on my right side. I put some water and granola bars in small backpack Glenn found in Atlanta some time ago.

I took my machete and made my way to the track I knew we gonna be taking. I could see Glenn already sitting in the driver's seat while Daryl was pacing the truck's back. I walked past Rick and T-Dog and put my machete down on the floor of the vehicle. I pushed myself up on my arms and got into the back of the truck, making Daryl stop his pacing.

He looked at me, his blue eyes narrowing "What the hell ya doing here, women?"

I just looked at him calmly and picked up my weapon "What does it look like I'm doing, Dixon? Did you really think that I would let you go without me?" He just scoffed and mumbled under his nose, something about a stupid woman.

"Hey! Don't go breaking my records now! We went all 15 days without you calling me stupid." At that comment, I could see his lips twitch just a little, and then he made his way to the seats at the front of the car and used his foot to pressed a horn.

"Hurry up, y'all!" Rick and T-Dog made their way towards us, the new guy was wearing a sheriffs uniform, I guess he was a cop just like Shane, before all this.

"Ma'am, I don't think it's safe for you to go with us. The city is completely overrun, and it might be dangerous." I let a small laugh escape my lips, the others following my steps, except Daryl, of course. That guy doesn't laugh.

"Rick, this is Elena, we were telling you about her last night." Glenn introduced me, and it got me really interested in what they were telling him about me.

"SSA Elena James, not that it matters anymore. Trust me, I had my experience with the dead already, and yet I'm still here alive." I spun my machete in a circle, careful to not nick Daryl with a blade. After that, we finally were ready to go, Rick taking the passenger side at the front, T-Dog climbing up to sit with younger Dixon and me.

*

The journey to Atlanta was uneventful, except few snarky comments from Daryl. Glenn finally parked the car, and we all jumped out, making our way to a chained fence, to go through it. The first time I saw the city after that day on a highway and boy let me tell you it was horrible.

The streets were abandoned except for a few geeks - or walkers, as Rick calls them. I could see abandoned cars and here and there we passed burned down buildings, seeing what napalm actually did to Atlanta and how deserted it looked.

It's kind of image you'd only see in a movie, laughing and asking your friends what would you do if apocalypse, of any kind, would hit. And now we fucking living it and it's scary to think about because it seems like humanity lost and what was left of us was in the minority.

"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation." Daryl's gravelly voice pulled me out of my thoughts. It seems as he and Officer Friendly were having a go at each other. Again.

"We are. You know the geography, it's your call" That last part was intended for Glenn, who, in fact, like I mentioned before, is a walking map of Atlanta.

"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." I was so happy when Glenn said it. I didn't know if I could stop Daryl if he'd decide to punch Rick, or I should say I wasn't sure if I was willing to do so. I was pissed too, you don't leave people behind like that, it doesn't matter how fucking annoying they are.

We jogged through the streets for about five minutes before making it to the convenience store they left Merle in. I heard a low growl behind me and T, so I quickly spun on my heel and rose my blade into dead men's eye. He was wearing a suit, now shredded in many places, his stomach ripped open and once-white shirt now deep red and brown from all the blood.

As quickly as I sunk my machete in, I pulled it out, pushing caracas to the ground, making the rest of my group look at me. I gave a quick smile in their direction before advancing to the front, following Daryl through a ransacked shop. He gestured for me to take a right, while he went to the left and we both slowly and quietly moved forward, I heard the swish of Daryl's crossbow and then sound of a body going down. When I rounded the corner, I was met with an arrow pointed straight between my eyes. I used my left hand to gently push it down cocking my eyebrow a little.

"Come on, Dixon, you would be super sad if you'd kill me. Who would make you laugh and complement that sexy body of yours if I'd be gone?" He just rolled his eyes and scowled at me before going in the direction we should be going. I looked at Rick, and he had a weird expression on his face. Like a combination of disbelieve, amusement, and resentment all at this same time.

"Don't worry, Rick," T-Dog said, chuckling. "That's just the relationship they have, she pushes his buttons, and he tries not to kill her."

I sent a sweet smile in their direction and moved after Daryl. We finally made our way up the stairs to where the roof door was. When on the top, Daryl made space for T-Dog to use bolt cutters on a padlock and then kicked the door rushing first to get his brother. We all followed him through a platform to a pipe where Merle supposed to be. Yeah, supposed to be...

"No! No!" Daryl's cries broke me a little, he was pacing, and tears rolled down his face. The handcuffs were still attached to the pipe blood all over them, on the floor bloodied handsaw and... a hand.

Impatient prick cut off his own hand. Fuck.

Next Chapter

[lepus-arcticus]

OMENS: CHAPTER FIVE one | two | three | four trigger warnings apply HORIZON MENNONITE COLONY JULY 23 - 12:06 PM

Abel Stoesz was cabled with stringy muscle, a sparse yellow beard struggling to assert itself under phlegmy, peacock-blue eyes. He had the brutish, loose-jawed look of someone who was willfully stupid, and Mulder, still on edge from the dead fox in the boat, was already itching to break his nose. 

Salome, his wife, was a waif of a woman; tiny, shorter even than Scully, and so agonizingly underweight that you could see the architecture of her skull beneath her face. Perched beside Abel on the stiff loveseat, she rested her bird-bone hands on the gentle, rounded swell of her belly, and a raisin-coloured bruise, smattered with green, framed one eye. Most of her was buttoned up in one of the ubiquitous puff-sleeved frocks of the religiously sequestered, but Mulder would bet that the bruise had a few cousins underneath the powder-blue polyester. They were a few days fresh, he estimated, probably about as old as the news of Anna’s death. 

Mulder longed for the opportunity to set Abel up with a few matching welts of his own, but settled for hating him privately in the interest of avoiding an assault charge and one of Skinner’s arduous ass-chewings. He consoled himself by grinding his molars together. 

Outside, white bungalows and red barns squatted in clusters on the flat expanse of land. A black storm battled the sun for dominance, and the glass panes of the windows, loose in their tracks, rattled against the wind. The other members of the colony, bonneted and behatted, milled politely about their business. 

He and Marion had been invited to stay for lunch by the community elders the moment they arrived. They’d been ferried along to the dining hall, but then Abel had emerged from the throng and snapped them away from the friendly masses, yelling for Salome, who scurried after them and into the dark of their tiny home. 

The air stank of hyssop detergent. No one offered coffee or tea. Marion refused to sit down, and Salome eyed the gun on her hip uneasily. 

Abel spoke first, and spoke plainly. “I didn’t murder my sister.” 

“It’s interesting you say that, Mr. Stoesz,” Mulder countered, struggling to hide the contempt in his voice. “Why do you assume that Anna was murdered?” 

“Why else would you people be here?” Abel glared at Marion, who was standing sentinel near the empty wall, arms crossed. Mulder half expected steam to billow from her nostrils. 

“Your sister’s husband mentioned that you’re not too fond of him,” Mulder said. “Would you say that’s accurate?”

“Hugh Daly is a scourge on this earth, and every day I pray for his retribution,” Abel sneered, spittle frothing in the corners of his mouth.

“Wouldn’t it be more Christlike to pray for mercy on his soul, instead of divine punishment?” Marion asked, her face ruddy with indignation. She stared Abel down with fiery determination, and Abel stared right back, the loose skin around his eyes twitching, not deigning to respond. The wind knocked against the windows like it wanted to pick a fight.

“What has he done to warrant retribution?” Mulder asked, and Abel turned back to him. 

“Anna always had a… disobedient streak. That’s why she left. But that man… he seduced her, corrupted her. Ruined her. Before he came sniffing around, before he made her his whore, Anna could have still come home. She could have returned to her people, to her rightful place.”

“Her rightful place?” Mulder prodded.

“It was my duty to bring her back. To correct her. She was my sister. My responsibility.” 

Mulder leaned back in his seat, hands firmly flattened on his knees so they wouldn’t accidentally crash into Abel’s ugly mug. He let his eyes pass over Salome’s battered, bitter face, and wondered what, exactly, constituted this man’s idea of responsibility. 

“You know, Mr. Stoesz,” he began, slowly, easing into a new strategy. “I… do admire your conviction. It takes a strong hand to correct a wayward woman, and so few men these days have the stomach for it.” 

Abel was visibly heartened, his mouth twisting into an agreeable, self-righteous frown. This is too easy, Mulder thought to himself. Men like Abel thrived on validation. If he could effectively convince him that he was on his side, he was sure Abel would, intentionally or otherwise, let the cat out of the bag. Or, maybe, in this case, the crow. 

Mulder could feel Marion staring at the back of his head, but thankfully, she didn’t say anything. He hoped she could trust that he knew what he was doing.

“I have a sister too,” he half-lied. “I understand. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect her. To bring her home if she was… lost.” His mind conjured a few versions of Samantha at various ages, abducted, cloned, ripped to a bloody pulp in the wheat. His chest contracted in a familiar pain, and he directed the images to the raw hollow in the back of his brain where he kept most of his thoughts about her, promising to return to them later for self-flagellation. 

Abel nodded fervidly, evidently gathering his thoughts. 

“Anna was the devil’s slut⁠—” Salome hissed in a high, thin squall, apparently unable to contain herself any longer. “Witch—”, then Abel violently gripped her arm, and she gasped and shut her mouth, glowering at her belly and skating a claw around it discontentedly. 

“She was still my kin,” Abel growled. 

Mulder, sensing an opening, leapt in for the kill. “Mr. Stoesz, have you ever experienced anything you couldn’t explain? Or suspected that you have the ability to make things… happen? To affect the world around you without necessarily taking direct action?” 

Abel looked at Mulder stupidly, his neanderthal mind stonemilling the words, trying to decide if he was accusing him of something or not. But before he could answer, Salome spoke again. 

“Hugh Daly is facing retribution for his sins. Whatever misfortunes befall him, whether they are acts of God, man, or Satan himself, he is deserving of.” She trembled with conviction, her bony jaw shaking. 

“And Anna, Mrs. Stoesz? What about her?” Marion said tersely, from over at the wall. 

“Perhaps she has also received her judgement,” said Salome, and Abel looked at her quickly, working, Mulder noticed, to keep his expression neutral. 

Mulder’s cell chirped in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and removed himself to the porch, carelessly letting the screen door slam shut behind him. He jabbed the worn rubber of the call button and put the phone to his ear, squinting at the gathering storm. “Mulder.” 

“Mulder, it’s me…” Scully sounded breathless, resigned. He didn’t like it one bit. “Hey, you okay? What did the autopsy turn up?” He picked at a shard of peeling paint on the railing, wary of the sadness in her voice. 

“Anna Daly was pregnant.” 

“... Are you sure? How can you tell?”

“I found… remnants. Of the fetus.” 

Mulder flinched. “From what I can gather based on the apparent level of skeletal development, I’d estimate she was eighteen to twenty weeks along.” 

He sucked air through his teeth. “Jesus. You think Daly knew?” 

“I’m going to call him up to the station here and find out.” 

“You okay?” His stomach clenched with the brief flickering memory of her ova in a vial. Not now, he thought. She doesn’t need to know right now. Maybe not ever. 

She hesitated momentarily before answering him. “I’m fine, Mulder.” 

“You sure?” Scully’s voice took on an exasperated edge. “Yes.” 

“Because if you’re not, it’s…” “What do you want me to say? That it was fun?” She said, sharply. “Scully, that’s not⁠—”

“⁠—Listen, I have to get back. We’ll discuss it tonight.”

“...Okay,” he said, doing little to disguise the irritation in his tone. 

Held hostage by some unspoken, unacknowledged superstition, neither of them said goodbye. Mulder hung up the phone, took a stabilizing breath, refocused himself, and walked back inside. He settled back into a stiff-cushioned chair across from the Stoeszs. “I just got a call from my partner,” he said. “Mr. Stoesz, are you aware that Anna was pregnant at the time of her death?”  

Abel looked like Mulder had punched him in the gut, which was almost as good as actually doing it. 

“Are you serious?” Marion whispered behind him, and when he glanced over his shoulder at her, her eyes were saucer-wide. 

And then Abel leapt up in a sudden rage, prompting Salome to flee the loveseat like a frightened, emaciated rabbit. 

“Get out of my house,” he seethed, taking a few lunging steps towards Marion. She stumbled backwards, palming her gun over the holster. 

“Mrs. Stoesz, if you’d like, you’re free to come with us.” Mulder swiftly maneuvered himself so that he was between her and Abel, and reached out an upturned hand, but she gave him such a sharp, hateful look that his balls practically shrivelled, even as his heart went out to her. 

“You heard my husband,” she hissed. “Get out.” 

Just another person he couldn’t save. Add it to the scoreboard, boys. 

He stomped out of the house behind Marion’s flustered stride, the cool wind catching the edge of his trench coat and sending it flapping behind him. A few plaid-clad teenage boys waved excitedly at them from the flat of a wooden cart as they hoofed it back to the truck. 

Marion released a creative string of curses and condemnations concerning Abel’s personal attributes, including the diminutive size of his dick. “You drive,” she finished, tossing Mulder the keys in disgust. “I’m gonna end up killing us if I do. Fuck, that man riles me.” 

“You’ve got experience with him? Mulder asked, as he hoisted himself into the cracked leather driver’s seat of Marion’s cherry Chevy Scottsdale. A felted green air freshener in the shape of a pine tree swung from the rearview mirror. He started the engine, and Harvest swelled to life from the tape deck. 

“Kind of.” Marion said, slumping into the passenger seat. “Met him a few times. Mostly at Rhiannon’s, back when me and Anna lived there. He used to show up a lot. Rhiannon usually wouldn’t let him past the front door, so him ‘n Anna’d be arguing in the driveway… God, was she really pregnant?” 

“Yeah. Sc - uh, Dana found, um. She found evidence to that fact.” 

“Fuck. Goddamnit.” Marion was pale. 

Mulder pulled into the road and eased the needle on the speedometer upwards. The truck gasped and sputtered like it was having an asthma attack. The sky above had turned dark and threatening, but the sun pushed a few tenacious arms through the thunderclouds to illuminate the lonely stretch of highway. It was eerie as hell. 

“So… while we’re at it, can you tell me how you came to live at Rhiannon’s?”

“Why do you need to know?” 

“C’mon. Just help me out a little here.” 

Marion picked at a hangnail, sullen and slouching. “Um... I, um, left the res when I was 16. I wasn’t planning on staying in Horizon or anything, but Theo picked me up and kinda took care of me and set me up at Rhiannon’s. She took Anna in, too, when she ran away from the colony.”

“Did Anna ever say anything about why she ran away?” 

“Oh, gee, I dunno, she was probably tired of getting pummeled to shit by her brother,” she said bitterly, as if he was an idiot. She gripped the console and swallowed. “Fox, slow down a little.” 

“Oh⁠—” he eased off the gas pedal. “The… colony elders didn’t do anything about it? What about their parents?”

“Her parents have been dead for years. Highway accident. And the elders...it was none of their business, not their concern. You saw how Salome looked. They’re fucking heartless up there.” 

Mulder nodded, thinking. “So… do you think that Abel would be capable of all the things that have been happening? Setting the silos on fire? Drowning the horse? …Anna?” 

“No,” Marion said flatly. “I don’t.” She took a deep breath and let it stream out of her nose. 

“I’d love to know your thoughts on this, Marion.” 

“And I’d love to know what the fuck you were going on about in there. Affecting things without trying to. What does that even mean?” 

He eased into it as naturally as he could, cautious of her mood. “Well… in my particular line of work, I’ve seen people who… experience such a strong emotion that it can affect the physical world around them. Daly claims he’s been seeing omens, right? And I saw something strange myself this morning. A dead fox in a boat out at the lake.” She turned to him at that, quickly, with a sharp look in her eye. “That seems pretty on the nose, don’t you think?” he continued. “Perhaps Abel’s anger towards Daly is manifesting in these visions, or somehow these events are a result of⁠—” 

“⁠—Stop the car. Oh, God, stop the car. Stop the car.” Mulder glanced at her, and upon seeing the look on her face, immediately pulled over to the side of the highway, lurching over the rumble strip. Even before they’d rolled to a stop, Marion was heaving herself out of the passenger seat and vomiting noisily into the ditch, clutching her stomach. 

Mulder had to look away to keep from losing the rest of his breakfast. Jesus, first this morning, and now Marion... this was entirely too much upchuck for one day. He hadn’t even been going that fast. 

He hunted around the back seat for the bottle of water he’d spotted earlier. He replayed a few fresh, brutal memories of Scully’s poorly-hidden chemo nausea, her deathly pallor, her heart-wrenching heaves behind closed motel bathroom doors. He burned anew with guilt.

Mulder swung himself out of the truck when the retching stopped, toting the bottle. Marion was kneeling on the side of the road, arms wrapped around herself, weeping. He crouched down and placed a palm on her back, trying not to balk at the caustic smell of her. 

“Marion, have some water, okay?” He held the bottle out to her, and she looked up at him, teeth bared, her earth-dark eyes bottomless with desperation. “We’ll find out what happened to Anna. I promise. We’ll keep you safe. From Abel, from Hugh⁠—” 

“Oh, you stupid, stupid⁠—” she sobbed. “Abel has nothing to do with it. You can’t stop it, Fox. You can’t. You need to leave this place. You need to get out.” 

An investigatory thrill chilled the back of his neck, and a distant flash of lightning silently illuminated a fumey cluster of clouds. “What can’t I stop, Marion? Why do we need to leave?” 

Marion groaned in tandem with a low roll of thunder, her tears splattering onto the asphalt, a prelude of the coming storm.

“You can’t stop what’s happening.” Her throat was thick with fear. “No one can.” 

[eerythingisshaka]

#Fictober Day 28

“I felt it.  You know what I mean.”

(Undead!Erik x Black!Reader)

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Violence, smut

“FUCK EVERYTHING!!”  You say as you toss your phone aside.  

It had been five weeks since your situationship called things off, and you were desperately looking for reprieve in the app life.  However, Tinder, Plenty of Fish, Bumble, Black People Meet, and digging through your old schoolmates on Messenger was coming up dry, dull, and completely disgusting to you.  If people weren’t being plain boring or curving you, they were breadcrumbing, catfishing, and tryna have they cake and eat it too.  You didn’t have time for none of that!  Why was it so hard to find a quality guy that could also bust you open on a regular basis?  You were good looking thick melanin goddess, with a good job, own place, all you  wanted was companionship.  

You pull out a bottle of Hennessy and get to sipping to try and feel at least a little bit good and lit.  As your body warmed up and your mind got hazy, you start to look through the internets typing random stuff into Google about how to find a good man.  The lists telling you to ‘Be yourself’, ‘Don’t be afraid to make a move’, and ‘show him respect’ made you want to throw your shit out of the window.  You went out, you were yourself, and sharing your time was the most respectful thing you could do for someone.  But the pickings were dustier than the skeletons in their closet.  

Sitting back with your drink, you turn to your TV and see Queen of the Damned being played.  Aaliyah looks amazing as the sinister title character, complete with embellished crown and bustier, gyrating and hissing at her seduced followers.  You wish it was that easy, but of course, you weren’t Aaliyah, or a Queen of the Darkness.  

A thought sparks your mind gears as you consider a new inquiry in your search bar.  Scrolling through you find all kinds of creepy looking websites boasting incantations, spells, voodoo, and witchcraft that can bring your most desired mate to fawn after you eternally.  Some required too much:  hoof of a deer, venom from a snake, head of a chicken.  No way in hell would you consider massacring and animal for something you were only curious about.  

One website got intrigued as it seemed a bit more reasonable in its requests, and it was headed by a Black woman from New Orleans who looked like your great aunt.  ‘A spell for renewed bliss’ was the title.  All you had to do was get a dead rose, a mirror, a bottle of liquor, a piece of clothing that is important to you, a match, and a Bible.

You grabbed the decayed bouquet that was gifted to you on your last date with what’s his name.  And you hadn’t finished your Henny yet, so that would do.  You grabbed a mirror, a match (and some weed cuz fuck it), a pair of panties that always got you some good good, and the Holy Book.  And you knew exactly where you wanted to go to try this out.

You take 30 min drive out along a secluded, barely lit road that led to the outskirts of town.  You didn't make a habit of visiting cemeteries in  the middle of the night, but you were feeling Henny bold.  You were bored on a saturday with a broken pussy and no one to fuck with, so why not try the other world niggas.  You pull up through the gates slowly and drive along the rocky driveway until your headlights illuminate the section number you were looking for.  

Getting out of your car, you pull your jacket around you tighter as your phone lit you path while you carried your bag of ingredients.  It was the marker closest to the wall, a small stone, cheaply made as he didn't have any family.  The marker reads “Erik Stevens".  You had heard of him from the news. He caused a raucous in Wakanda and practically took over the world until he was killed.  His body was sent back to America but no one could claim him, so the Wakandans gave him a basic burial.

You kneel on the grass in front, opening the bottle of Hennessy to take a swig.  You look around you as an owl hoots in the background, sending chills down your spine, but you weren't turning back now.  You wanted some entertainment, and the spirit world better not disappoint

The mirror was propped up to face you, and the rose was to be burned and scattered in the bottle of alcohol you brought.  You pour some of the concoction on the crotch of the underwear you brought and lay it across a corner of the gravestone.  Sitting back, you spark up your joint and crack the Bible open.  

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.  Entreat me not to leave you, Or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; And wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, And your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, And there will I be buried.  Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate." You read, ominously.  

“Shit, thats dark.” You whisper as you take a drag and savor the high you were feeling.  Looking at the stars in the sky, you were so taken by their beauty you almost forgotten about the task at hand.  Completely entranced by the twinkling nature, you don't notice the disturbance in the grass between your feet.  You swipe at the tickle near your ankle, judging it to be a bug until it felt bigger and more solid and grabbed you back.

You shake your foot casually until you look down and see a dirty hand.

“Ohhh SHIT!!  What the fuck-- Get off!”  You scream as you yank your ankle from its grasp and crab walk backwards from the grave.

You watch in horror as the arm extends out in the air, studded with scarification marks.  The hand is grasping for leverage creepily until it gets the grass.  You can see the stress in its knuckles as it prepares to pull.

You toss your blunt, shaking your head and pinching yourself.  “This can’t be happening!  This gotta be one of those ‘I had too much chocolate before bed’ dreams.”

Soon as your theorized that, the other hand busted out of the ground, clawing at the grass as the earth between the two started to become disturbed.  

“Oh, fuck this!”  You yell as you jet to your car.  Getting in you push to start the engine, putting it in drive.  You had no idea how to get out of the cemetery besides the way you came in, so you forced the car in reverse.  Backing into the grass, you desperately turn the steering wheel with all your might to right yourself in the appropriate direction before putting it in drive.  Once you did, you looked up through your windshield and what you saw made your body run cold.

Standing before you was the man you thirsted after in your dreams, day and night.  The man who was once dead, and looks like everything but now.  

Besides being covered in dirt remnants, Erik Stevens looked as good as the day he died.  Scars along his entire body, muscles permeating from under his melanin; with the addition of the stab wound T’Challa gave him that caused his death...and he was naked.  

He had his head down, locs shielding his face, breathing heavily until his head started to rise to look at you.  He stood there expressionless and you weren’t sure what to do.  Run him over?  Call the police?  Call a Priest?  Leave an unsatisfactory Yelp review for the auntie’s website that made you do this in the first place?

You were as frozen as he was, forgetting to breathe as you stared at him.  No way he could actually see you in the car with the headlights on but his gaze matched yours perfectly.

Suddenly his nostrils flared, eyes bucking, fist clenched, his expression menacing.  “AAAGGHHH!!”  He roars at you, before booking it out of the cemetery.  

“Where the fuck is he going?”  You watch as he books it to God knows where.  You hit the gas and go after him.  He is running along the gravel road, skin to the wind like a madman.  He’s fast, but you catch up to him.  

“Erik!  ERIK!!  The hell you goin?!”  You yell out the rolled down passenger side window.   He looks at you and lands a kick against your car that sends it swerving into the other lane as a car come toward you.  Your jaw clenches as you turn the car in the correct lane and hit the brakes. The oncoming car passes you, honking and flipping you off as it goes by you but you’re way too rattled to care. You look in your rearview to see if there are any cars coming before you back up to look where Erik turned into.  Stopping the car, you get out, yelling his name once more, but he was long gone in the woods.  You hold your head in dread as you think about how you just resurrected a problematic man and set him loose , naked and angry into the city.  Walking back to your car, you noticed the sizable dent in the side of your car caused by his foot.  

“Oh, I’m finding this damn nigga.”  You say to yourself fuming as you try to open it, to no avail.  

You are almost home before you notice that the gas on your tank was pointed to the E.   You had less than ten miles to the tank before it became empty.  Luckily your house was not that far from the gas station in your neighborhood so you made your way there.  Paying for your gas in store, you pick yourself up some chips, a tea, and personal pepperoni pizza from the kitchen, hot and ready.  

Walking outside, you put your goods on your seat and get the nozzle to pump.  

“The hell you doin out here lookin like that?!”

You hear some commotion on the far side of the parking lot.  A couple of OGs were looking in an area behind the gas station.  

“Boy, is you stupid or sum’n?  The hell your clothes out, nigga?!  Getcha ass beat round here for that kinda shiet!”

You stop pumping and walk a little closer to get a better view.  All you saw was back and ass sitting on a rock.  You run back to your car to get the extra blanket in your car and the pizza.  

“Aye y’all!  Move on, now.  Ain’t nuthin to see!”  You yell at the graying and drunken street guys watching.

Erik turns at the sound of your voice, and you talk to him gently.  “Hey, Erik.  It’s aight.  You hungry?  I know your ass hungry, come on.”

He slowly gets up, walking to you as you try to keep your eyes on his civil areas.  His expression was hard as he looked you a moment before snatching the pizza from your hand.

“Uh!  Chill the fuck out, Erik.  I don’t give a fuck what grave you crawled out of, you better be respectful!”  You throw the blanket around him as he practically shoves the whole pizza in his mouth at once.

“Aye, girlie!  He botherin you or som’n?”  The OGs come up beside you.  

One of them goes to point a finger in his face, that instantly gets bent backwards, sending him on the ground, writhing in pain.  Erik grabs the other up by the throat as he begs for air.

“Erik!  Put them down!  Stop right now!”  You push him and grab at his arm to put the man down.  Erik flings you away from him, making you roll across the asphalt.  You get up slow as Erik begins to cause a scene, someone is calling the police.  

“Erik!  You still hungry?”  you ask desperate to get his attention from the man as he turns blue.

Erik looks at you dropping him, and walking your way.  He picks you up, shaking you for food.

Your head knocks as he rattles you, but you gain your bearings enough to smack him across his face pretty good.  He drops you on the ground, holding his cheek, fire in his eyes.

You get up quickly, backing towards the car.  “You don’t get no damn food if you attack, Erik!  You hear me!  You’ll starve and go right back to wherever the hell you came from if you come for me!”  You say with as much authority as you could muster.  Erik stops his stampede towards you, huffing with rage.  

You start to hear sirens in the distance.  “You gotta come with me though.  Get in the damn car Erik.  Now!”  

You start the engine up and put it in drive waiting for him to make his move.  He stares at you with the same blankness as he had in the cemetery.  The OGs were still rolling on the ground around him and you prayed they would not put a hunt out for Erik.  Finally, after what felt like forever, he comes to your car.  You forgot the passenger door wasn’t working because of him, but before you could get out and tell him to go in the back, he rips it open and gets in.  You look at him as he stares you down.  It wasn’t until you got in the enclosure of your car before you smelled him.  

“Damn!  You really were a corpse!  You gettin a bath first man.”  You groan in disgust as you start the car and make it out to the street.  

Erik’s nostrils glare, clenching his fists.  “And I don’t give a damn FUCK about a tantrum, nigga.  I could leave you out here to be a hashtag out here in the parking lot.  You know the cops wouldn’t mind.  Have some sense, I’m tryna help you.  But attack me and you as good as dead!”  

Erik was thinking, you could tell.  He might not have had oxygen in his brain for a while, but he still knew what he was doing.  He sits back, taking your instruction.

Once you all get to the house, you get him inside and head for the bathroom.  “Don’t sit on anything, touch anything, do anything!  I was serious, you are bathing first!”

You run the shower and hand Erik a towel.  “I hope you remember how to bathe.  I ask for a man and so far, I have became a mother to you.  What if the cops got you?”

Erik goes in the kitchen stepping right into the shower, letting the water run over his body, the water pooled around his feet is a muddy brown.

“Take the washcloth, and clean off ALL that dirt.  You cannot sit on my furniture with a dirty body.”

Erik stands in one spot, not saying a word, and not moving a muscle.

You roll your eyes, and decide you have to feed him the steps.  “Here. Soap?” You squeeze some soap out on the washcloth.  “Water?”  You put the washcloth in his hand and run water over it.  Then you place his hand on his chest to make a lather.

“Waaaassshh.” You say, nodding your head as he watches the suds appear and dirt disintegrate.  

Erik looks annoyed at you, but that’s been his default since you picked him up.   You leave him to figure himself out as you sit down and open your laptop.  The stress of your situation was hitting you with a ferocity beyond your control.  What if someone got your license plate number?  And he wouldn’t be a hard suspect to find out in the open.  Six foot, Black man with scars all over his body?  And you would go down for aiding and abetting!

You try and look over the website that gave your the resurrection ingredients and hope there is a reverse to it.  You decide to email the Madame, praying she replies soon.

Erik comes out with the towel resting around his neck, body dripping wet and soapy in some parts.

You get up in a huff.  “Gatdammit!  Get back in there!  I don’t believe you washed up for real, but you certainly did not rinse.  You need to cover yourself.”  You snatch the towel from around Erik’s neck, tying it around his waist.  Erik flinches, rubbing the heat on the back of his neck.  

“Rinse off!  I’ll get ya some clothes!”  

As Erik pads away, you look through what you call the “Box of Bullshit” to find Erik something that he could wear.  The dude from your situationship left a lotta stuff in your closet and drawers, yet he didn’t have a single understanding of commitment, but that was neither here nor there.  You find a simple white tee and some sweatpants and socks.  Going back to the bathroom, you crack the door open and toss the clothes in.  “I hope you know how to dress yourself.”  YOu yell through the door.

As you do some more research, Erik comes out clothed, despite the shirt being inside out and backwards.  You also remind yourself to get him some underwear at the drugstore; if him being an undead being wasn’t bad enough to be a target, that dickprint would call him out quick.

Erik stands there staring at you, letting out a grunt.

You look up at him.  “What?”

Erik sits down next to you, takes one of your typing hands and rubs it on his stomach.  

Snatching it back you yell at him.  “Aiiiight, dang!  Nigga, Imma need you to learn words again, quick!  This sign language sit is not what I’m built for.  I’ll order some food, but you finna need to earn your keep soon if you layin up here.”  You pull up the website for Little Cesar’s to order some $5 Hot-N-Readys.  

Erik looks at your screen and groans pitifully.  “Uh...I know you are not being picky?  Nigga, this is MY money.  If I’m paying, you’re getting something quick and cheap.  Your first word you speak to me better be ‘thank you’.”

When the order is placed you get up to get your jacket.  “Now look.  I have to go get the shit, but the block is too hot for you, so if you can stay here, not touch no shit, that would be helpful.  Yes?”

Erik gives you his usual annoyed look.  “Great!  The food oughta be good motivation to be good.”

----

Stepping out of the Little Ceasar’s with two Hot-N-Readys, you get your keys out to open your car, dropping them in the process.  

“Lemme get that for you, baby.”  A guy comes up to get your keys from you.

You’re hesitant but play it cool.  “Oh, thank you.”  You hold your hand out for the keys but the guy keeps a hold of them in his hand.  

“What’s your name?”  He asks, smiling with a black tooth.  

You had no time at all for this Uncle trying to talk to you.  You place the pizzas on the hood of your car.  “I don’t give that to strangers sir.  Give me my keys.”

He kisses his gnarled teeth.  “Aww, come on.  I don’t bite or nothin…”  He steps in front of you reaching for your waist.  You step back towards to the door of Little Cesar’s.  

“Give me my damn keys!”  You say with more bass.

He gives you a sour look and tosses them on the ground.  As you pick them up and open your door, soon as you get the pizzas in, he gets by the back of your hair.  

“You think you the shit, bitch?  Fuckin whore and worth the spit out my mouth.”

You struggle against his grip until you twist your body to jab him in his genitals.

“FUCK!”  He exclaims, teetering backwards in pain.  

You jump in your car and peel out the parking lot as soon as possible.  How was this night starting off as some toxic selfcare and fun to this?  You promise to never drink and research voodoo ever again.  

You notice some bright headlights in your rearview mirror and adjust to try and see the driver, but no luck.  You were on a straightway, so you couldn’t turn off and you were almost home.

Pulling up to your spot, the car pulls up behind you as well.  Soon as you get out with the pizzas, that same uncle came out his car limping.  

“I told your fuckin ass!  You ain’t nuthin.  You oughta be glad I’m talkin to your raggedy ass!”  You trot up to your door, messing with the keys until the door opens.  Erik is standing there ready to eat.

“Fuckin bitch!”  the uncle yells.

This catches Erik’s attention as he begins to walk past.  

“No, Erik! It's food! Take the food!” you remind him in vain.

The uncle sees Erik coming towards him and stops in his tracks. “Oh shit. Uh, I don't mean nothin by it sir, just a misunderstanding.”

Erik keeps coming.  

“Erik, don't fucking hurt him. I swear on everything!” you scold him.

But Erik walks past him, causing some relief to wash over the uncle.  But the sound of bent metal, made him jump.

Erik has a grip on the passenger side door, before ripping it off its hinges and smashing it like a ball of paper, glass shattering all over.  He tosses the remnants in the car, and punches the windshield in, busting it for good measure.  

“Oh, brotha, come on! I didn't even do nothin!”

Erik points in the distance, signaling for him to get the hell outta dodge. Which uncle obliges quickly.  

Once he is gone. Erik comes back over to you l, looking intently all over your face and body.  You hand him the pizzas.  “He didn't do nuthin.  I hurt him more than he could.” you say walking inside.

Erik lets out a sound that almost sounded like a laugh, so you assume he approved.  You plop on the couch, exhausted.  

“You need a drink, there's water.  I ain't got nuthin else.”

Erik sits on the couch, fisting slices of pizza into his mouth.

“Chew! It aint gonna run away!” you roll your eyes.  “You so extra.”

As Erik chews, you reach for his locs, studying them, dirty and overgrown.  

“Remind me to retwist your shit.  Lookin like a wilderness man aint cute.”  

You get up to go get him a paper towel from the cabinet, and the door hangs off the hinge.

“Shit!  I thought I fixed that!”  You prop the door closed and give Erik one.

The rest of the evening, you spent searching for answers to you right your creation against the laws of nature, coming up short.  The FBI would have a field day with your search history.  Erik just sat still on the couch, watching the TV.  You didn’t want to go back to your room so you could keep an eye on him, but you certainly couldn’t stay awake all night.

The next morning you get up, stretching out the crook in your neck.  Erik was nowhere around you.  You get up, becoming frantic as you get up to look outside your door, hoping he hadn’t gone far.  Turns out he was just on the steps, looking up at the sky.  You go outside to join him, looking down at the sidewalk.

“Erik, did you sleep?”  He shakes his head no.  “Can you?  Sleep?”  He shakes his head no.  You study his profile, he looks a little sad.  “Are you hungry?”  He shakes his head no.  “Well, I got a spare toothbrush for you.  Use it, and I’ll do your hair, aight?”

He nods, getting up to do as he was told.  You take a moment to look at the sun, wondering what the hell you were going to do.

You join Erik in the bathroom as he is rinsing his mouth.  He looks a little more alive today, less like he is an alien that is new to Earth.

“Get on your knees, I’m going to wash your hair out in the tub.”  You get the shampoo and conditioner ready as you start the water.  Erik gets down leaning his head over, looking back at you curiously.  

“Don’t worry, I won’t drown you.”  You say as you guide his head under the lukewarm water.  You watch dirt remnants go down the drain as you massage his scalp gently.  You feel his back relax under your arm as he enjoys the attention.

“Mmmm.”  Erik groans.

“That’s nice huh?  Don’t get used to it, you say, jabbing him in his side playfully.  Erik flips his head back, splashing lather and water all over you.

You jump, only able to stare at him in awe.  “You have to be kidding me.  ERIK!”  You splash him with water back.  “Now I’m drowning your ass, put your head back down!”

Erik wouldn’t comply.  Instead he picks you up and holds your entire body in the stream of the water, before letting you go to run away.  

“Erik!  Gatdammit!”  You turn off the water, stepping out of the shower damp.  You were down for playing but he was too rough!  You change your clothes and go sit on the couch to watch some shows.  Erik went outside and came peeking through the front door.

“You either in or you out, boy.  Don’t matter to me none!”

Erik comes inside.  “And don’t sit on my couch with a wet head, go rinse your own damn hair!”

Erik kisses his teeth.  “Ohhh, and you gettin smart!  Walk your ass on somewhere then, I don’t really care!  You got one more time, try me!  Nobody playin!”  

Erik gives you that annoyed glare but skulks to the bathroom, running water.  

When he comes out, he’s got a towel on his head and products on his hands.  Your feet are propped on the table, which he moves from under you without regard.

“Erik, what’re you doing?”  He sits in front of your legs, backing up into you.  “Uh, uh.  You don’t want me to do shit for you, cuz you wanna play.  I ain’t playin right now!”

Erik leans his head back looking up at you, eyes all wide, jaw tight.

You roll your eyes, smacking the side of his face gently.  “Aight then, get up.”  You part your legs for Erik to squeeze between.  He was so wide, it was a bit of a problem.  But you start to get to work.

Drying his hair a little more, you get to talking to him.  “My name is (Y/N), by the way.  I know you can’t talk yet, or ever, but...that’s my name.”

Erik nods slightly, giving a grunt of approval.  

While you twist him up, you figure you can ask him a few yes or no questions.  “Erik, do you think you are alive?”

Erik  reaches his hand out for you, taking your hand and placing it against his chest.  You couldn’t feel a heartbeat, and checking the area near his jugular confirms that.

“Wow, do you feel dead?”

Erik shrugs.

“Do you remember dying?”

Erik is still for a moment before he nods slightly. “Yeah, I remember hearing about it.  I wasn’t completely mad about you, just mad for you.  It wasn’t fair the hand you were dealt, but you got a little outta hand.  Like, not too long ago even.”  You say referring to the OGs he choked up in the parking lot and the car he destroyed.

You couldn’t see his face but you felt an eye roll from him.  “Come on, Erik.  You said your were gonna kill any and everybody who stood in the way of your plans.  You can’t make those kinds of declarations and come out smelling like roses.  Shit’s dirty man.”

Erik holds his hand up, moving his hand like it's talking.  “Uh, you want me to shut up?  Please, you not listening is what did you in.  You shoulda been talkin to people instead of being led by a blind fury.  Mayne you not talkin now is a poetic justice.”

You finish up his hair and leave him to admire your work in the mirror.  Just then your phone gets a text.  It’s the guy from your situationship.  

You freeze, not sure what the hell to do.  You go to the box of his crap in the corner and go to get it.  “Uhh, Erik.  Imma need you to stay here again, ok!  I’m going out again.”

Erik steps from the mirror, looking at you with a hand on his stomach.  “Oh, uh, I-I’ll pick up something.  Then we gotta talk-- or, whatever.  Cuz we gotta figure out what to do with you.  You look more presentable so maybe we can figure out how to get you somewhere to be or work or somethin.”  You rush out the door as your mind was focused on other things, leaving Erik to his own devices.  

You pull up to his spot, sitting for a second to collect yourself before getting out.  Box in hand, you go to knock.  

He opens the door, still looking like how you left him.  A handsome pain in your ass.

“I figure you wanted this stuff back too, since we talkin now.”  You say, shoving the box in his arms.

He looks you up and down, scoffing.  “Oh, miss thing got a backbone?  Or somethin stuck up your ass, one.”

“Ty, I ain’t tryna hear it from you, ok?  You breadcrumb the shit outta me and then dip.  Now you got somethin to tell me, so what the fuck is it?”

He puts the box down before leaning on the doorframe.  “I wanted to see you, just one more time.”

“So you officially through with me?  That’s funny cuz I been done with you!  No problems to my name!”  You say, boldface lying.

“Nah, I figure you wouldn’t even want to deal with me no more.  I treated you shitty, I get that but I couldn’t handle a good woman.  I just didn’t know your were until I didn’t have you.”

You fold your arms, your anger beginning to falter.  “Yeah, cuz you...you ain’t shit, Ty.”

“That’s what happens when you take ‘the’ out of it.  You were my meaning, without you, I’m shit.  You my ‘the’.”

You hated him.  You couldn’t stand that pretty face talking with that pretty mouth giving you that sexy stare.  Before you knew it, you were on top of him, making out on his couch.  You felt sick, but he wanted you, he said so.  This didn’t have to be the end, you all can start anew since it is sure that both of you want a real thing.

His phone rings as you reach for his belt buckle.  “(Y/N), lemme take this real quick.”

You whine, “Come on.  I’m ready for you now!”

Ty lifts you off of him before running for his phone.

“Hello?  Yeah, no it’s fine.  Oh for real?  Ok, let me know what the cost is.”  He looks at you apologetically.  “Oh, wait, baby I don’t wanna talk to her right n--  Hey Mom!  Yeah, no your daughter is amazing!”  You expression falls flat as you dry up hearing the conversation continue.  “Yes she is beautiful.  I am lucky to have her for my….future wife.”

This was your cue to get up and get on.   You are out the door as he is hanging up.  “Baby, come on.  It ain’t like it sounds!”

“A WIFE, TY??  You getting married, married?  And you were just kissing me on your couch?”  You get in your car, and he leans talking through your window.  “Aww, now don’t be like that.  You’re my meaning, remember!  My the!”

You stare at him through your window, seething.  “Get THE fuck off my car.”  You peel off, hoping you got his feet.

You pull up to your place, feeling worse for wear, seeing Erik sitting on the stairs reminded you that he needed to eat.  

YOu curse under your breath as you walk past him inside.  I’m making you something.  I don’t feel like going out again.”  YOu go in the kitchen, banging pots around, opening a soup can.  YOu try opening it with the can opener but it's no good.  The can is only halfway open before you give up and try shaking the contents out in a pot but half of it splatter on the counter.  

“AGGGHH!!  I’m tired of niggas!  If I’m not taking care of them, they are fucking me over, there is no inbetween.”

Erik comes up to you placing a hand on your shoulder.  “No, Erik!  This ain’t the time!  I’m trying to be nice, but I can’t see the point!   What am I supposed to do with you?  Huh?  YOu weren’t supposed to be here, I was playing around!  I was bored and heartbroke!  What do I need with a damn zombie!”  You take a pot and send it clattering in the sink as you lean on the sink.  “I can’t deal with anymore of this, I just want to be left alone.  I’m tired.”  

You hear the front door open and close shut.  You look back and Erik is gone.  He thinks this is better, but now you’ll have to wonder where he is until he returns.  You look at the mess on the floor, and reach for your paper towels.  You open the door too quickly and expect to have to catch it but it sits perfectly on its hinge.  You survey that there are crew placed correctly in the door, fixing the mess that it was.  You’re confused only for a moment before you realize it was Erik’s doing.

Great, you thought.  Now I really gotta find him.

In your car, you drive around just trying to be vigilant and look around to see where he would be.  He wasn’t walking the neighborhood, he wasn’t at the gas station.  A thought crossed your mind that you didn’t like, but you figured it was crazy enough to work.

You get to the cemetery, luckily it's daylight this time and see him sitting down.  You pull up and get out of the car with a bag of food.  You take a seat next to him, pulling a burger out of the bag, but he doesn’t take it.  You unwrap it and take a bite.  Y’all stare at his headstone and the whole he crawled out of a moment.

“Erik, I didn’t mean….”

Erik doesn’t look at you or interject.  Not like he could.

“...I didn’t mean all of what I said.  Now, if the truth is what you want though, I didn’t ask for you to come into my life.”

Erik looks at you with a stank look.  “Come on, I was just playing around!  I didn’t know this shit was real!  But, dang, this is hard.  I don’t want to leave you on the street, I wouldn’t do that.  You had a soft spot in my heart before because I got your story, you just went about it the wrong way.”

You grab his arm to pull his attention away from the grave.  “I don’t want you back there, I really don’t.  I could put a couple different people in there before I think about sending you back.  I couldn’t if I wanted to, and I’m not.  Erik, I don’t know what’s happening in your head, but I’m sorry for what I said that may have brought you here.  You are getting a second chance, this could be something special.”

Erik looks at you, taking you by the shoulder to look at you intently.  “I’m fine.  Just nigga troubles.  The guy whose clothes you’re wearing called me and I thought we were being a thing again, but nah.  He gettin married.  God bless the union.”

Erik nods, biting his lip and looking away.  “You wanna get outta here though?  Now I got somethin for us, we should be good til tomorrow, then I can get some food in my fridge.”

You and Erik enjoy the evening watching shows and winding down from the day.

“Ohm and thank you for fixing my cabinet door!  That was bothering me for weeks, and now I can confidently retrieve my paper towels.”

Erik smiled, probably the most genuine one he has given you, dimples unyielding.  “Maybe you can fix my car door next, with ya heavy handed ass.”  You stick your tongue out at him.  

Joining him on the couch again you start to drift to sleep, leaning on Erik’s shoulder.  It was nice to have someone to snuggle up to, even though he had no pulse, he wasn’t cold or stiff. He just was him, with no heart.  So, himself.

Your eyes flutter awake as something caresses your face.  You peer up to see Erik’s hand combing back your curls with his fingers.  “Come on, lemme sleep.”  Erik keeps caressing your face, planting a kiss on top of your head.  You look up at him suspiciously.  “Uh, ok.  With that, I think I’ll go to my room tonight.”

There was no way in hell you could go through life having fucked around with a corpse.  Could he even do shit anyway?  Day by day, he is less of a toddler acting dude and more of the man he once was, but he was still mute and not alive!

You get up to go to your room, looking back at him as you open the door to go inside.  You leave the door open a crack, in case of anything and try to forget what’s happened.  Erik was still Erik, dead or alive, but there was no way, not on God’s green Earth.

You lay in bed a moment, facing away from the door.   You close your eyes praying for sleep but you were suddenly wide awake and anxious.  You hear the door creak open.  

“Erik, I don’t know, I just want to sleep so--”  The bed creaks as his weight slides next to yours.  You turn to face him.

“You don’t sleep remember?  So there is no reason to be here.”  You say authoritatively.  Erik is looking you dead in the eye.  His hand rises to rest on your hip, more innocently than anything.  “Are you still checking that I am ok?”  Erik nods.  “You don’t have to be sorry or anything, we are good.  I’ve gotten used to having you around and I mean, it’s nice or whatever.  A nigga that can’t talk back.”

Erik smirks at your aside, rubbing your hip, firmly.  You feel yourself gettin tight between your legs so you adjust, while at the same time scooching closer to Erik, who pulls you into him.  It didn’t take long for your lips to meet his, and the answer to your previous inquiry begins to poke your thigh.

Kissing him felt so good to you, it really made you forget most of the logistics behind what was about to happen.  You roll yourself on top of him to straddle, taking off your shirt and helping him out of his.  You felt so many questions lingering on your lips that could keep you from going further, but they hushed when he kissed your breasts.  Your head leans back as he gently licks your nipples, massaging your back, turning you into puddy in his hands.  You run your hands through his freshened locs as he hums into your areola, flipping you on your back.   As he takes down his tenting sweatpants, you pull off your bottoms hoping this is worth whatever natural laws you may be breaking.

Everything about him was perfection, from his scars to his muscles to his roaring erection.  No one would believe he was in a grave just a couple days ago.  Maybe you could make this work, maybe he could stick around a while…

Erik’s eyes were dark with lust as he sized up your opening with his tip.  You bring his gaze to your face.  

“Don’t go too fast, ok?  Keep it slow…”  You say instructively.  If he needed coaching on bathing himself, you weren’t risking the destruction of your walls to his enthusiastic ignorance.

Erik nods as he keeps his gaze upon you, you feel obligated to not look away so you can keep focus on him not obliterating your pelvis.  As you feel him enter, your mouth flops open as you wince.  Erik stops from your reaction, holding his breath trying not to hurt you.

You squeeze his shoulders encouragingly.  “It’s alright, go ahead.  I’ll tell you to stop otherwise.”  You really didn’t want this to be whack or painful, this was the guy of your dreams come back to life.  A sex God of your fantasies, but it’s like you’re dealing with a virgin from outer space.

Erik pushes further into you, increasing your discomfort but once settled in, you could feel yourself becoming accustomed.  You nod, allowing Erik to begin to move inside you slowly.   The pace was good enough to make the pain go away but now you needed more.

“Faster, Erik, just a little.”  

Erik bites his lips to pick up his pacing, finally you feel waves of pleasure building.

“Mhm, deeper, please.”  You moan as you bring your hand down to stimulate your clit.  Erik brings your legs back to oblige your request, grunting as he felt you tightening around him.

“Ahh, that’s it.   Oh, that’s good, keep going Erik!”  You encourage him as you climax under his strokes.  Erik seems to get the hang of it as his grip digs into your thighs, mixing the depth of his strokes at an angle to relieve your G spot.  

“Ohh, come on, Erik.  My pussy so wet, show me it’s yours!”  You whine, grabbing the pillow behind your head as you run your hand down his studded chest and abdomen.

Erik lays on top of you, grinding his hips against you, putting all of himself into you while hitting your clit just right.  His breath on your neck couple with his primal growls made you lock him into place, calling out his name without regard until he suddenly pulled from you.  Stroking himself over you, the amount of seed that left him was so much, you thought surely he would die of dehydration.  There should not have been any liquid left in him after how hard he came, your stomach, breasts, even up to your neck was covered in his cum.  He made a whole glazed donut out of you.

“Damn, Erik!  Is it like that?”  you say,  touching it lightly, contemplating the clean up of your situation.  

Erik breathed out heavily, a little too heavy, as he lied down with a thud, eyes fluttering closed.

You spring up, alarmed.  “Erik….Erik?”  

He laid there motionless.  He already had no pulse so no use in checking that.  Did he die die?   You smack him and shake him but he doesn’t stir.  

Getting out of the shower, you peek slowly to see him still knocked out, you laid a sheet over him for decency.  You shake your fists at the ceiling, arguing with God about how your behavior warranted this outcome.  Going into the living room, you pull up the website you got the resurrection spell from to see if there was a wear off period.  If you had known that, you would’ve let him wander around after he hopped out that grave instead of taking him home.  

Zzzzzz…

You look towards your bedroom, alarmed by the noise.  Zzzz…  Was he...snoring?  yOu get up and peek inside to see.  He was definitely snoring, loud as hell, but you breathe out thanking God you hadn’t killed him again.  You go in, sitting on the bed again, laying a hand over his nose to feel him breath.  Laying a hand on his chest, you feel a familiar flutter that nearly took you out.  His pulse was racing, renewed within himself, you couldn’t fathom what was going on.  So he was now alive?  A living, breathing being?  Could he talk now?

You decide not to wake him but come morning, you would be ready to go over his state of being.  Going back to the living room you research on your laptop, coming up with nothing more until you passed out for the evening.  

When the sun wakes you the next morning, you stretch feeling work out and exhausted despite the full night’s rest.  You feel sore and become worried until you forget the abominable act of last night.  Holding your head, you moan in shame thinking of how many ways you could be considered an insane sex maniac.  You let out a heavy sigh as you walk to your bedroom to finish what your research of your newly livened friend, but the bed was bare of his presence.  You cursed under your breath as you looked out a window, checked the bathroom, before going out the front door.  

You find his at your car door, using some device to pop the dent out of it.  You stomp over to him.  “Erik!  You can’t disappear like that, I thought that was clear!  Are you alright?  You passed out after...you know.”

Erik looks up to you, standing up, putting a hand to your hip.  You swipe it away.

“That’s what started shit before, don’t think it’s happening again!  Besides that though, I touched you and felt something I didn’t think was possible.”  Erik made a face suggestively.  “No, your heartbeat!  I felt it.  You know what I mean.”

Erik puts a hand to his chest to feel for himself, nodding.  

“Yeah, it’s crazy.  I thought I killed you, but then your heart started again.  Like, you’re alive again, right now!  So I actually brought you to life twice!  Haha, nuts!”  You laugh awkwardly over sirens in the distance as Erik stands there looking at you with a raised eyebrow.  “This would be so much funnier if you could talk though.  Which reminds me, where the hell did you get that thing to take the dent out of my car?”

The sirens get closer as a cop car pulls in front of your house.  Two cops come out with guns drawn.  

“Don’t move!  Sir get on the ground with your hands up!”  

Erik’s eyes widen as he steps in front of you.  You peer over his shoulders.  “Officers, you must have something wrong.  What’s goin on?”

“This guy was seen stealing equipment from an auto body shop a few blocks from here.  He is under arrest for trespassing, breaking and entering, burglary, and if he doesn’t comply now, a lot more.”

You touch Erik’s back.  “You stole that??  Erik, you shouldn’t have left without telling me, I would’ve told you not to worry about it!”

Erik turns around to face you.

“I said hands on the ground!”  The officer says loudly.  

Erik looks in your eyes, searching your face for something to say, if only he could.  You could barely make it out but once he opened his mouth you could recognize his words.  “(Y/N)....”

A gunshot rang through the air, making you both jump as one of the officers fired, presumably in the air.  Erik bolts behind your house to the backyard, cops following suit.  

“Erik!  Stop!  You can’t do this!”  You yell running after them.  You hear them going through some of the wooded parts, opting to stay out of it, yelling his name for him to give up or come back.  He really messed up now.  They would be looking for him now that he was on the run, and finding him at your house leaves you open to surveillance.  Going back to the front door of your house you look back at your fixed car door, saddened that the dent was gone to remember him by.  

“Miss, you’d better come with me.”  One of the cops come back with his gun drawn on you.  

You raise your hands slowly, trying to remain calm.  “For what?”

He shrugs, “Harboring a fugitive, aiding and abetting.  Conspiracy to commit robbery, I can make some shit up.  But you being with him, makes you a suspect all the same.  Now get in the car.”

You blink your eyes to keep from crying out right as you walk slowly to the back fo the squad car.  He pushes your head in as you duck in and slams the door on you.  When he gets in, his partner comes through huffing and puffing.

“Can you believe that Black bastard running like that?  We’ll find him, no problem.  Sticks out like a sore thumb.”

They drive off with you, chatting about Erik and putting out his description on the radio.  “Your boyfriend is in a whole hell a lot of trouble, so when we get you to the station, just follow our instructions, let us know what he’s done, where he might be, and let us do our job.”  Your eyes well up as you shake your head.  There was nothing you could add to the situation, and even if you did you wouldn’t help them!  You look aimlessly out the window watching the trees zip by, hoping Erik has found a path far from where you are now.  

Just then the car comes to a screeching halt as you are flung forward, hitting the partition with a thud.  

“What the hell...It’s him!  Carl, call back up!” The officer exclaims as he gets out the car.  Carl calls back up as you look to see Erik in full on rage as he stares down the officer with his taser out.  The officer says something but you can’t hear and Erik doesn’t look up for talking.  The cop deploys the taser, making Erik wince and twist under the shocks.  The officer approaches him as Carl steps out the car, and suddenly Erik has him by the throat and hoisted in the air.  Carl moves quicker now as he gets his gun out.  Erik doesn’t miss a beat, tossing his partner at him, sending them toppling over the side of the road, down to a ravine.  

You watch all of this wailing for Erik to stop as you try to get out the car in vain.  You beat on the window when Erik stomps towards them again, snapping him out of his angered trance.  He goes to your side of the car, pulling the door open like a chicken bone.  You crawl out, jumping into his arms.  

“Erik, you gotta go, now!  There will be more and you can’t fight them all, they’ll kill you.”

“I’ll...die….then.”  Erik strains from his voice.  You look at him incredulously.

“No. you will not!  You did enough of that already!  You will go back to my house right now and we will go somewhere, anywhere but here to save you!”  

You get into the squad car to drive back to your place, trying to hatch a plan along the way.  When you arrive, you run out of the car towards your door, trying to ignore the sirens coming.  Erik gets you by the arm, pulling you to him.  “There’s no time Erik, we gotta go!  I just need my wallet and some clothes, and-”

“Don’t...I’ll run.”  Erik says slowly.

You shake your head.  “Where?  Where could you possibly go with no ID, money, or people you know?  You’re still dead according to your tombstone.”

The sirens get closer, sounding just a couple blocks away now.  Erik walks away from you, heading for the road.  “I’ll...find you….(Y/N).”

Your vision blurs as you get emotional again.  “Don’t worry about me, just go!  I can’t see you die again, just get out!”

Erik nods running down the road and heading for the wilderness along the road again.  When cops arrive, they question you, but you’re of little help.  You don’t know how this happened, who he was, or where he went.  That didn’t stop them from canvassing the place and watching you for the next month to track his whereabouts.  

One night, when all the searching died down, you took a turn down the road you traveled once before, heading to his tombstone for old times sake.  You hadn’t heard from Erik in a couple months, but you figured he got away with it so far since the news hadn’t shared any updates.  Looking at his spot in the ground, the earth has been filled again, grass filling in sparsely.  Kneeling in the grass, you pull out a small $2 shot of Hennessy and pour a little out for him.

“Can you believe I miss your raggedy ass right now?  I came here because the first time when I woke you cuz I missed dick, but now I just miss you and...I just hope you alright.”  You sit in the stillness of the cemetery a moment.  “I don’t know how to contact you, so I just brought myself to here for a symbolic talk is all.  Got a pizza waiting for me in the car so I shouldn’t let that get cold, huh?  Ugh, this was stupid right?”  You get up sighing over the non-closure closure of your situation.  

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your car alarm goes crazy when you look over where it’s parked, you fumble with your keys to turn it off.  A shadow passes over the headlights making you freeze in place.  The figure reappears, stepping into the light, looking worse for wear but alive nonetheless.

“Pizza?”  He asks.

[toomanysweaters-moved]

June 3rd, 2019

Clip, clop, clip, clop... Noelle’s hoofed footfalls tapped up the sidewalk, followed by the sound of the little red wagon being dragged behind her; carrying the many, many spoils of her birthday celebration; video games, treats, flowers, a hand-woven doll, a whole cake... and a lot of wonderful new memories.

Even still, while her mood had skyrocketed ever since getting even just one gift... her smile started to fade as she approached the imposing black gates that oh so often barred entrance to her home, thanks to her mother’s... ‘forgetfulness’.

Green eyes stare up at the bars as she came to a stop in front of it, buckteeth softly digging into her bottom lip... wondering if she should just head back up to Kris’s house. Like she had yesterday, not even bothering to try to get inside before... but, no, that would be rude of her to do.

She could deal with getting locked out again. Just like any other day.

Fruitlessly as it might be, a hand reached out to give the gate a tug... her eyes going wide as it came open without an ounce of resistance; it was unlocked.

... she almost didn’t think to actually walk in for a moment, too surprised at the sudden change to what had become her routine. After a solid amount of silence, though, her brain starts working again and she quickly scampers herself & her presents inside... closing the gate behind her, for once.

And after the walk up to her actual front door, she found it unlocked, too. Part of her wondered if they’d been robbed, but as soon as the door was open she could see that wasn’t the case; the house was pristine as ever. Still no sight of her mother, though.

Not that she was... entirely opposed to that, sad as it is. Hence why she tried her best remain quiet as she brought her gifts inside; putting the cake in the fridge and setting up the new Nintend0 in the living room before grabbing an empty vase for her flowers and carrying the rest of her gifts up the stairs to her room. Thank Santa for carpeted steps...

Her gaze fell upon the closed door to her mother’s study as she rounded the top of the stairs, stopping to listen... sure enough, the usual sounds of her ‘going about her business’ could be heard; the distinct sounds of a wineglass clinking against her desk being the most prominent among them.

Eyes fell to the ground and, with a shake of her head, she skulked to her room, sliding it open and quickly slipping inside. Eager to put her gifts away.

A smile managed to grace her face once more as she set the flowers on her bedside table and the plushie made in her dark world likeness on her pillow, taking a moment to just sit there and enjoy the fond memories they brought.

Until the silence was broken by sudden “Good evening.” from behind her.  The sound of which made her instantly spin around and straighten her posture.

“G-good evening to you too, mom!” She sputtered out, arms crossing behind her back instinctively as she faced her mother; stood in the doorway, wineglass in hand, and a red bathrobe wrapped snugly around her small frame.

“You didn’t come home yesterday. Are you trying to worry me into an early grave, young lady?” The white rabbit asked, seemingly in jest, as she waltzed in; looking her daughter up and down. “Where were you?”

“Oh, um... I’m sorry, mom! I didn’t mean for that...” Noelle said, quick to swallow any gripe she may have had at the thought she’d actually be ‘worried’ about her. “It’s just... K-Kris... they invited me over for my birthday!

I know, should’ve told you first, I’m-...” Her apology is swiftly interrupted by a audible ‘Oooh!’ from her mother as her wandering eyes caught sight of the doll sitting atop her pillow, red eyes going wide as she walked over to examine it.

“Little Kris didn’t make this for you, did they?” She said, absolutely enamored with the hand-stitched plush’s quality... and how adorable it’s outfit was! 

“U... um, no, that was from someone else at... at school.” I mean, it wasn’t technically a lie, but it still sounded like one regardless. “Kris got me... well, got us a new Nintend0! It’s downstairs if you want to-!”

And once again, the poor girl gets interrupted- her oddly excited mother reaching over the bed gingerly snatching one of the flowers from the bouquet on her nightstand. “Now these are from Kris, I bet! I recognize his father’s flowers anywhere!” Her rabbit nose twitches as she gave the flower a sniff, an uncharacteristic smile on her face as she slid it back into the vase.

Noelle... was visibly confused at this point, and couldn’t do much more than nod as she sat down on the bed beside her, clasping her hands together in silence. This was, like... really weird. But,  also kind of nice? Almost felt...

“... they asked you out, didn’t they?” 

! ! ! ! !

“E... excuse me?” Her voice came out as a squeak, face flushing pink and her nose glowing bright at the sudden jump in the level of questioning. “On a date, sweetheart. Why else would they give pretty girl like you a bouquet?

Unless they inherited that habit from Asgore, which I doubt.” 

Oh, they’re doing this. This is what they’re doing now. Sweet Santa Claus... “Well... n-no, they didn’t, they... they were just being nice...!” She’s stammering now, and her mother’s squinted gaze certainly isn’t helping.

“... hm. I suppose he did inherit it, then.” The white rabbit said, taking a sip of her whine... not sounding at all convinced of that fact, but she knew her daughter wasn’t lying so there was no point arguing with her. She’ll give it a month.

Finally. She’s finally given a moment to breath....

“Then who did ask you out, hm?”

“ WH... WHA... HOW DID YOU...?!”

An amused chortle from her mom broke the poor girl’s squealing, interrupting her for the third time in the span of a few minutes. “Well, I didn’t. Until now.”

... the fawn’s eye twitched. Once, then twice, then finally the poor deer collapsed onto her pillow in utter defeat, while her mother sat there sipping her wine smugly over her. All too proud of her successful interrogation.

“So, who was it~? A boy from your class? It better not be that Nerdly kid. I’ll kick his ass. You deserve better than that.”

... blink, blink. Her ears couldn’t help but perk up hearing such a familiar sentiment from a completely different source... had she been talking to dad lately? “... n... no, actually, it was... well...” Stars, this was gonna be weird to-

“So it was a girl, then? Interesting. Gotta be something really special if even the girls wanna ask you out, hon.” The... praise(?) was accompanied by a gentle little clap of her paws, apparently pleased with this realization... leaving her daughter utterly perplexed. “You... you don’t mind?”

And there’s that chirping laugh again.

“Mind? Sweetheart, if things had gone just a hair differently in college I’d have been the one married Toriel and Rudy’ be off growing flowers with Asgore.

How is she, by the way? Bet the dinner she served last night was delicious.”

... the only response she got was her daughter screaming into her pillow after the mental images she’d just put in the poor girl’s head. Not that she minded that, either; why else would she throw something like that at her?

She gives the fawn a moment to work it out, patting her shoulder as a comfort, even as the amused smile was still on her face. “So, really, who’s the lucky girl?”

... deep (pillow) breath. Noelle manages to pull herself up, snatching up the doll Ralsei had made her and hugging it tightly before, sheepishly, getting out an answer. “S... Susie. Her name is Susie...” And now she’s blushing again.

For once, the impish look on her mother’s face fades away; red eyes widening and her head tilting at the answer. “... Susie? Susie Touchdown?” Legitimate surprise oozed from her tone, making Noelle shrink... in fear that might be an actual problem. The fact her mom knew of her only made it worse.

So, she just nodded in silence.

... but, no lecturing to have a ‘better judge of character’ or anything of the type came. Instead...she just whistled. Like... in a cartoon.

“Really didn’t take you for the bad girl type, hon! Suppose that’s what runs in our family~!”

She just... winked. Was that in reference dad’s attraction to her or her attraction to Toriel? Who knows, certainly not Noelle, nor does she want to know. She’s... just confused and... sort of happy?

Having a pleasant talk with her mother was... something she missed. All she could do was just... laugh. She’s giggling, to be specific. And Carrolle is giggling with her.

“Oh hon, I’ve got the perfect outfit! She’ll love it; trust me!” The rabbit practically hops up from her seat, bouncing all the way to her room; gong off about how you ‘don’t wear dresses on the first date’ and how she ‘knows Susie’s type’...  It was fun. Noelle was about to follow... when she noticed something.

A tiny, gift-wrapped present; right where her mother was sitting. Ears twitch, looking between the present and the door... before grabbing it.

Doesn’t take her Gyftmas-trained hands long at all to get through wrapping paper, or the little box within it... green eyes widening at sight inside.

It was... a key. 

A spare key.

[aspiratinganxiety]

Christmas Dinner Part II

The much awaited final chapter of the Christmas dinner prompt! This is pure fluff with a delectable finish, if I do say so myself. The first part of this fic can be found here.  

I am so sorry that I had to repeatedly bump back the post date for this piece. You guys were so excited for it, and I swear that I got it to you as soon as I could. I’ve had a couple of weeks with a new job and some stuff that needed to get done around the house for the change in season. 

As always, I am grateful for your patience, and I would love to know what you think of my work!

(Side note: If you want to be added to a taglist, let me know. I don’t really have one yet, only a small one for Part II of the Ballerina/Dick fic. Not really sure if anyone is interested. Drop me an ask or message me if you’d like to be tagged in my work, and please specify if there are certain triggers that you’d like not to be tagged in.)

"Just make sure to act... ya’ know.... natural. Like we willingly spend time with one another romantically. Also please, please do not take Jason’s bait. He’s always an especially bitter pill during these parties. I don’t know why. It’s just like, one of his things. One of his many things. Oh! And remember-”

“Christ on a bicycle, Tim!” you interrupt him, patience completely evaporated. “I know how to be a girlfriend. I’ve been in more relationships for an amount of time that totals longer than your go with Stephanie. I know all the weird quirks with your family, even Jason. I understand what jokes not to make. All of my major etiquette lessons were from Alfred himself, and I don’t drink. Won’t make a habit of it in front of Bruce as an underage date to the only son functioning as a public figure for Wayne Enterprises. I get it. I know. Chill the fuck out and get off my back, or I’m going to punch you in your bird throat.” 

Usually, you do not threaten violence to anyone, especially people as kindhearted as Tim. Jesus God though, 45 minutes of his frantic dictation about your expected behaviors and you’re ready to strip off your bribery gown, roll out of the moving car buck-ass naked, and hoof it back to your apartment in the snow.

You have enough anxiety of your own, poured into a buh-jillion dollar dress that was made to push your boobs up to your chin and mold your butt into some kind of evergreen-colored peach. You can barely walk in your shoes, you’re wearing jewelry that cost more than your education, you are terrified that Damian might mistake your fake fur for the real thing and try to murder you on the spot, and the flower crown braided to your head is made of poky pine twigs, baby pine cones, and glittery sugared berries that are all working together to make your scalp itch worse than the week and a half you spent fighting a colony of lice in the fourth grade.

Fucking Lacey Whitaker and her four-feet of infested hair...  

In short, you want to die and you haven’t even tried to lie to Batman yet. 

“Wow.” Tim blinks, mouth scrunched into an unimpressed line. 

You sigh, hanging your head. “Tim, I am not going to punch you. That would be unkind and, frankly, a stupid move on my part.” You shake your head. “Not a fight I can win.” 

“I’m honestly less offended by the punching and more hung up on the bird throat comment.”

You cut your eyes at him, incredulous. “Yeah, well, that scarf isn’t exactly doing you favors.” 

He balks, jaw falling open. “Okay, first: you must be going blind. Francisco hand delivered all of the accent notes for my attire, including this scarf, so that I would match your dress. The one that you picked. The one that is on your body this very minute, if you would recall. The botanical embroidery is even consistent. So, yeah.” He motions to the fitted portion of the gown that can be seen hugging your thighs below the hem of your fluffy false fur coat. “Second observation: you are hella’ mean when you have The Anxiety, and I did not intend to fan that flame.” 

“Well, you’re hella’ bossy when you get nervous. Not a great combination to be crammed in a sports car together.”

“Noted,” he says, pulling the scarf looser.

The rest of the drive is somewhat tense as you both deeply question your life choices and rehearse the practiced cover story about first dates and whatnot. The sidewalk that leads to the main entrance of Wayne Manor is mercifully devoid of ice, having been flawlessly scraped and salted ahead of time. Alfred greets the two of you with a broad smile and ushers you into the bright, impeccably decorated foyer. 

“Happy Christmas,” he says, looking down at you in his warm, if distant, way. “Aren’t you a sight, Miss?” 

You acknowledge the compliment as Alfred hangs Tim’s coat and scarf, ducking your head in an awkward cross between a nod and a bow, frantically trying to peel the fur coat away from you before Damian gets a look at it. 

It is then that Tim sees the bodice of your dress for the first time. He stares, too struck by the full effect of the incredibly intricate, fitted garment to be ashamed that he is staring. The gown envelops you tightly from your bust to just below your hips, flowing seamlessly into rounded pool of silken fabric at the floor. Delicate lacework that echos the embroidery running throughout the piece act as wide, gossamer straps that tip over your shoulders and dive into what the cut of the dress would indicate to be a deep hemline baring a good portion of your back. With the high notes of red in your wreath, on your shoes, and staining your pretty, pretty lips, it’s hard for Tim to decide if the incredibly flattering silhouette created by your gown is more provocative than the contrasting, complimentary colors of forest green and holly-berry red that work to draw eyes up and down your body, then back up again... and down.... and up.

It is Alfred’s voice, chastising him, that breaks Tim out of his awed silence. “Take her coat and put your tongue back in your mouth immediately, Master Timothy.”

“Right!” he says, closing his eyes with a nod and stepping toward you. And again quietly, he almost sighs, “Right.” 

You hand him the fur, somewhat confused. Meeting his eye, you attempt to convey a look that asks whether or not he’s begun acting. After all, it’s only Alfred, and you both knew that there was zero hope of convincing the brilliant Englishman from the get. Tim was relying on the gentleman’s steadfast discretion to allow him this Christmas of peace from his brothers. 

Your initial reaction to Tim’s obvious admiration isn’t playful banter or a controlled taunt, as rehearsed. Rather, you are overwhelmingly flattered and suddenly battling an absolute tidal wave of uncharacteristic bashfulness. Heat burns in your cheeks from more than the rush of blood brought up by the warm house as you pass off your coat. Tim seems genuinely embarrassed too, as he avoids touching your hands and keeps his body far from you, using the full length of an outstretched arm to snag the outerwear. The left side of his face is crumpled in an apologetic wince, and the expression cuts clean through you. The bubble of your sheer delight implodes into a million little radiant drops as you try to decide whether or not the wince means he regrets having found you an attractive sight. 

That is not how boyfriends who enjoy your dress behave. Tim’s presenting a friend reaction, a friend who is afraid of having objectified or offended you. You steel yourself against the rush of anxiety that previously dimmed your flattered reaction and accept that you are gonna’ have to hem this tattered patchwork of a plan all by your lonesome if it’s going to be believable.

The Red Robin’s body language indicates that he’s all but thrown in the towel here at the door. 

And so, you take a deep breath, unfolding the neat, tidy little booklet of repressed feelings that you’ve been harboring in the pockets of your heart since you were 15, and you let yourself smile at him.

Really smile. The way you do when his back is turned. When his woefully dedicated or unimaginably funny words are in text. When you know it’s safe and no one will see the way that you smile for Tim.  

Your lips curve up a bit wry, teasing but encouraging. Teeth flash, a porcelain sign advertising your giddy joy and the silly sense of eagerness you allow yourself to feel, all-too-easily engaging the fantasy that this is a real date. Your shoulders half-shrug, and you catch the perfectly manicured nail of your ring finger between the knuckles of the opposite third and fourth fingers, running the corner of your thumbnail beneath it. The gesture is a nervous, fiddling one that communicates that damnably predominant shyness creeping up again.

You keep his eyes too, pegging him with an expression that communicates all of the softness and the intensity that you’ve been fighting to hide for so long. 

Tim goes stone still, like he’s been struck by lightening and his brain decided to exist stage left for intermission. He stares at you, staring at him like he’s answered some kind of prayer by grabbing your coat. 

For a brief, breathless moment, he feels like Gods must.

He’s dizzy with the sensation. It echos from his temples through his skull, then all the way down to every toe. A reverberation of unmitigated glory as delivered by the expression of someone he loves.

Nobody has ever looked at him that way. 

Not even right after he saves their life.

“Heavens,” Alfred mumbles behind him, a shared note of awe in his voice. 

Tim jerks, having completely forgotten where he was, why he’d be there, or that other humans who weren’t you existed at all.

The older gentleman relieves Tim of the coat, casting a prideful, knowing look over the much younger man. “I’ll just take that. Everyone is socializing in the parlor. Go on to the party, and I will call when the dinner preparations are in order.”

Tim, grateful that Alfred habitually motioned both of you toward the heavy mahogany doors that lead into the front sitting room, realizes that he somehow lost all memory of the manor’s blueprint. He also cannot recall the name of Damian’s dog.

“Well,” you say, waiting until Alfred bustles away before leaning toward him with a much more contained smile. You nod toward the parlor, a curl falling from its place pinned to your crown. 

“Uh,” Tim delays, closing his eyes and giving his head a quick shake. He dares to step closer to you and carefully brushes at the strand of loose hair. “Actually, do you think it would be okay if... um.... well, I was wondering if you’d like the plan being that this-” he motions between the two of you. “This was less for pretend and more for real?”

He speaks so quietly that you are straining to hear him. Beyond that, what you can make out of his words seem to imply a notion that has your heart hammering so hard that it isn’t leaving any room for your lungs to expand.

You get closer and whisper more distinctly. “More real how?”

“Like, real real.”

“You are not helping me understand, Tim,” you hiss, feeling rather vulnerable and unsure.

He grins haltingly, schooling his features into a gentler expression before balancing your chin on his thumb and forefinger. Tim tilts your face up, sure to keep gauging your reaction to his approach with inquisitive looks and plenty of pauses. Your eyes flutter shut after the tip of his nose presses into yours playfully, and he angles his head to brush past the bridge of your own nose and nuzzle into your cheek. 

Time stops again when you’re on the very cusp of kissing, lips together in a tickling brush with warm puffs of breath mingling between you. “Is this okay?” he asks, the press of his mouth to yours causing you to silently mirror the formation of his words. 

“Uh-huh,” you answer a susurrant hum, eyes still closed and oh so excited for a proper kiss.

“Ah, crap.” Jason’s voice booming out of the parlor behind you has both you and Tim jumping out of your skins. “That’s 60 bucks to Selina, guys! Turns out Timbo and Bo-peep are an item after all. They’re kissin’ in the foyer like animals! Catwoman takes the pot.”