#shes about to put him to work on the farm. garden. and kitchen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

krysalla · 3 months ago

Text

rack of his / pound of flesh

thomas hewitt x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

read on ao3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, cannibalism mention, blood, pregnancy mention, baby trapping (?), bad sex :(

It’s one of those insufferable days. The clouds are brewing in the sky with the sun still blazing behind them, creeping its heat into the moisture in the air. Even with the clouds, nothing stops the temperature from rising. What is it that they say about the frog in the pot? If you slowly turn the heat up, the frog won’t notice that it’s being boiled to death until it’s too late and its muscles are cooked away until they are of no use to him anymore. You wouldn’t be surprised if one day, you would share that same fate thanks to the Texas summers. Though, maybe it would be your own fault, you choose to be outside, rain or shine, to work the laundry. It’s easier for you, even if your hair and clothing are soaked in sweat and your whole body burns from exhaustion. You get to be on your own with only Luda Mae’s eyes glaring out the kitchen window, trying to drill a hole in the back of your head.

Out here on the back porch, there is no bickering, no staticky TV to set your head ablaze, no one to answer to and no one to make cruel, lecherous comments about you. Sitting on the porch swing, a bucket of water between your feet, the chirping of the birds and your own singing is as close to paradise as you can get in the Hewitt farm. They all sequester themselves inside, hiding themselves away from the rest of the world in this decaying house. Out here, you think of your life before. You wonder how long it took for your mother to report you missing when you didn’t show up on her doorstep like you had planned with her. Has your sister noticed a gap in between her ribs, like you do, where you always kept a piece of her? You can’t remember what color your kitchen cabinets were or if your bedroom window faced east or west. You can’t remember the title of your thesis paper. Maybe you didn’t decide on one before you took off for the holidays. Did your advisor like your last submission?

It’s easier not to think of before and focus on the now.

You have a garden that you keep and a perpetual workload of laundry to do.

You’ve been working on one of Tommy’s shirts for the last five minutes, trying to rub the blood out of the cream fabric, but no matter how much you scrub or how much soap you use, the stain just won’t come out. You’d been hoping to save this one, it’s his best shirt. You sigh and drop it into the tub with clean water. It’s hopeless to even try and make anyone in this family look presentable. A sheepskin does little to make a wolf look friendly.

“Baby, come ‘ere!” Luda Mae shouts from the kitchen.

“Coming, mama.” You wring out the water in Tommy’s shirt and lay it flat on the seat next to you.

You heft yourself off the swing and make your way inside.

The air is just as thick, heavy and miserable and dank as it is outside. At least outside, there was a breeze. The air in the house is stagnant and reeks of sweat and blood and the scum of years worth of build up when Luda Mae had felt too hopeless to clean, before the Hewitt’s had come into their own. Now, it seems as though there is no way to get rid of the filth. No matter how hard you scrub the walls or how much bleach you use, the yellow tint won’t wipe away.

Luda Mae stands with her back to the counter, a large knife in hand. Behind her, you can just make out a cutting board and vegetables pillaged from your small garden. So much for a bountiful harvest. She pulled the potatoes and carrots from the ground too soon.

“Almost done with the laundry?”

You wipe your hands down the apron wrapped around your waist. A nail snags on a loose thread. Your hands are all dried and eaten up from the detergent. “Yes, mama. Just gotta finish wringing out the water and put ‘em out to dry.”

“Don’t bother putting them out on the line. A storm’s coming in. You’ll have to string them up in the family room.”

You tighten your jaw and quickly glance out the doorway leading to the room. Monty and Hoyt are out there watching TV. They make it so much harder to get anything done, especially Hoyt. Monty for the most part leaves you alone unless you block his view of the television or upset that pitiful dog that he keeps on his lap, but you can feel his eyes on you nonetheless. Hoyt will get in your face for no reason at all, just to scare you for his own kicks.

You don’t school your twisted expression fast enough. She catches the contempt curling on your lip.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Luda Mae smiles with that wolf grin, laying out her trap for you.

“Nothing, mama.”

She comes close to you, knife still in hand, and even though you’re taller than her, she still has the presence to have you shrinking in on yourself. This little, old lady has just as much of a proclivity to violence as the men. She’s mean and cruel and you can’t help but wonder if she’s always been this way.

“You think you too good for this family, girl? Don’t insult me with ‘em lies of yours. All I gotta do is snap my fingers and my boys will fall right in line. You think you’re here because of my boy? I am the be all and end all of this house. Just one word and you’ll be next on the serving platter. No matter how much my boy thinks he loves you, you ain’t family.”

You hang your head like a scolded child, “‘M sorry, mama.”

She coos and sets down her carving knife on the counter. It’s a complete one-eighty that leaves your head spinning and stomach knotting. Luda Mae holds your face in her hands and tilts your head back to face her. Gone is that terrifying look in her eyes. Now, she treats you with the tenderness of a mother with her child.

“I know you’re sorry, baby, but you gotta know the way it works. Don’t want to lose the only daughter I ever had.” Luda Mae runs her hands down your shoulders, over your arms, squeezes your hands. She can be very affectionate with you when the mood strikes her. Your skin crawls as she clicks her tongue. She chucks you chin. “Now, give mama a hug.”

You wrap your arms around her back and push your face into her shoulder. You can feel the sting of tears, hot and angry, in your eyes and you will them to go away. You hold onto her tighter and she rocks you from side to side on your feet, cooing and shushing you with a spindly hand stroking over your hair.

“I love you, baby,” she says when she breaks the hug.

“I love you too, mama.”

She kisses your cheek. “Now, go bring Tommy in from the barn. I’ll have dinner done soon.”

“Yes, mama.”

---

Anxiety is coiling deep in your stomach and you’ve only got until you reach the barn to shake it off. No matter how much he might worry and fuss over you, you know Luda Mae is right, at the end of the day if she wanted you dead, Tommy would follow her orders. He is a dutiful son after all and family–blood– comes first. Tommy is dangerous, but not to you, not without Luda Mae pulling his strings. There’s no way you make it out of this alive without her complete and total confidence or until she is rotting six feet deep.

What bond can compare with a parent and their child?

You look up at the sky. Luda Mae is right, there is a storm coming. The clouds are darker now and the breeze has started to pick up.

The barn doors are wide open. It’s dark in the barn, cluttered with rusted over farm tools intermingled with suitcases and mountains of car parts and an engine that someone in the family had the intention to put back together again. It looks better than the last time you were in here– though it was much darker then. There aren’t so many hiding places. You wonder if Tommy has found your suitcase yet.

“Tommy?” you call out.

You hear a rustling from the back of the barn followed only after a few short moments by Tommy and his heavy footfalls. He looks subdued, as close to looking happy as he gets, his shoulders are relaxed and his pace lazy as he makes his way to you. You watch him carefully. As much as you might hate it, you care about the man that has taken you captive. It’s wrong and you know that deep down, once you break free from this family, you will no longer have any tenderness for him. He’s treated you well enough since you stopped fighting every second you could. He keeps an eye out for you, always keeping you out of trouble, and when he has no work to do, trails after you like a lost puppy imprinting on the first kind soul to reach out to him.

There’s one other way to make it out alive.

You know what your saving grace will be, what will solidify you as a Hewitt and give you the reins to control Tommy, to end the ever present danger he presents to you. A child. You will give him a family of his own, one of his making and one that will come willingly. You will give him everything he has been denied. You will become mother and wife, madonna and whore, prey and predator. Luda Mae will have her reckoning.

“Hi, sweetheart.” You reach up on your toes to press a kiss to the leather covering his cheek. “Look how much work you got done. Very impressive.”

He huffs, quick and short, and bows his head in an almost bashful manner. You hem and haw and lay it thick with compliments as you walk around the mostly cleared out area. You really play it up for him and maybe just a little bit for yourself just so you can glean a smile out of him, no matter how small, and make blood flow to his cheeks. It will serve as an opening.

There’s a smudge of dirt on his forehead and that just won’t do. You lick your thumb. He gently swats at your hand, grunting low in displeasure, but you pay it no mind— he’s only pretending not to like your gentle fretting.

“Oh, quit that bellyachin’ of yours. I wanna be able to see that handsome face of yours.” That earns you a small victory. You catch the crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes, right above the cut of his mask. His guard is down.

The wind picks up outside. You can hear the drops of light rainfall.

“Do you love me, Tommy?” you ask quietly. You brush his hair out of his face, clearing up his eyes so you can see his answer.

Your question takes him off guard, shoulders stiff and eyes wide. He looks around the barn, looking for something, someone. The Hewitts don’t talk much about before when you’re around, something you will never be privy to, but you can guess why he’s looking around for someone to come out from the thick, wooden beams to laugh and point and mock at him. Big, stupid, ugly animal. He’s not the average man and in a small town, you can only imagine not fitting into the norm can only have meant one thing for him: cruelty.

“It’s just you and me, Tommy.” You look conspiratorially around the barn with a sly smile. “I love you. Don’t you love me too?”

His eyes go wide, and you’re sure he believes you when he nuzzles his cheek into the palm of your hand. Maybe one day it will be true. For now you’re playing a game of survival. He pushes your hands away from his face and pulls you by your wrists until your chest touches his. Large hands pet over your back, your shoulders, down to the wide breadth of your hips and back up over your face. He creeps over you like a spider. He must be craving this, he’s never been particularly touchy with you, no thanks to Luda Mae who watches you like a hawk when the two of you are together. I won’t have any hussies in my home, she said to you when she stripped you bare of the clothing you arrived in. She threw your denim shorts and tank top and anything else in your suitcase she deemed inappropriate into the fire.

You take a deep breath and slide your hands down to his chest and push him away from you. There is no force on earth that could get Thomas to move unless he allows it. He takes a small step back and whines, brow drawing down in hurt betrayal. You ignore his whining and make your way over to the cluttered workbench. The table top surface is a little too high for you to be able to push yourself up on, but you’re sure Tommy will be able to help you out here.

You pick up the edge of your dress and pull it up, giving him a view of your leg, and crook the index finger of your free hand to him. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

His nostrils flare and his eyes widen as he follows the curve of your calf. The display you make of yourself makes him look hungry. You catch his tongue peek out from his lips and lick over them, there’s a sharp glint of teeth in there too. His steps are heavy as he approaches you and your stomach turns over. There’s no going back after this. You are making a permanent home in the belly of the beast. He won’t let you go after this, not when he will have everything he has been denied– love, affection, a warm, wet cunt to stick his cock in. You may not escape, but it will guarantee survival, especially if the fruits of your labor begin to show.

His hands fall on your hips and he lifts you clear off the ground. You shriek, holding tight to his shoulders. You’d been expecting it and yet it still surprised you. The strength of his arms give you something no man has been able to do for you. Even after he sets you on the table, you still cling to him, heart pattering in your chest from the anxiety of being dropped. He heaves you up as if you weigh nothing to him.

He seems pleased with himself.

It’s gotten so warm, it’s crept under your skin, crawling throughout your body.

You grab the wrist of his left hand and bring his fingers to your mouth. He tastes like sweat and grime. You lap your tongue around his index and middle finger, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. You suck and and suck, and you can feel saliva falling from the corner of your mouth as you work his fingers. It slides down his fingers, into the creases of his palm and to his wrist where your hand wraps around him.

“C’mon, big boy.” You suck in a breath and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Show me how bad you need it.”

He grabs your thighs, his short nails bite into the fat of your thighs and he pries them apart, pushes himself further into your space, crowding you until you’re overwhelmed with him, hips aching as you accommodate his sheer size. Anything you were going to say, even if you could work out a word, is snatched from you when you catch his heady gaze, eyes dark and unwavering, waiting for any slight movement or any tell of yours.

You force his hand between your legs, fixing his fingers beneath your panties and rock against him. You moan loud and exaggerated, just to break him out of whatever spell you’ve got him under and get him to make a move.

He curls his fingers into the crotch of your panties and yanks at them. He tugs your underwear off, the cotton stretched out and the elastic useless. It gets caught around the tops of your thighs and Tommy manhandles you, moving your body like a doll to pull the offending garment down your legs and flip your skirt up for his own viewing pleasure.

You don’t have time to scold him. Underwear is invaluable around here, especially pairs that fit. Tommy drops down onto his knees and lands with a loud thud. It’s the last thing you expected of Tommy– you had a suspicion he really wouldn’t know what to do except to ram himself into you from behind like animals do. He must have seen this on one of the many gutter trash pornos Hoyt has on video, the fucking pervert.

There is no technique or finesse to what he’s doing. He just tears into you with teeth and tongue. He’s making a sloppy mess of you.

You take the reins, knotting your hand in his hair and pulling him back from your cunt. “Fuck, just a little less teeth, Tommy.”

You push his head back into you. He listens. He drools against you, the only source of wetness that you’re sure you will need in time. You’re too stiff, too on edge to feel anything. There’s no grace in his movements, his tongue completely misses your clit and his lips are too rough against you.

You grip his hair as hard as possible and yank him away. “That’s enough. I need you.”

With one hand, he does his belt and tugs his pants down enough to free his cock, and the other to pull your neckline down to expose your breasts. You look down at him. Your heart skips a beat and your lungs struggle for air. It’s a fucking beast, a lead pipe that will split you in two. You’ll die before you even get a chance to see your plan through.

There’s no consideration on his end or he simply doesn’t know. He pushes into you with no warning and you cry out. The wind washes out the sound.

You feel like you’re on fire, burning from the inside out with how he stretches you open. The pace he sets is brutal beyond belief. You lean forward, one arm draped loosely around his shoulder and push your face into his neck. It hurts with the minimal lubrication you’ve got, just his messy display of eating you out. You try to smother your grunts of pain against the thick column of his neck, you close your eyes and clench your jaw, trying to find anything pleasurable in this act. There’s nothing you can do now.

He doesn’t sense your discomfort, just continues pushing through it. He pulls you closer, big hands pawing at your back, fingers catching in the fabric of your dress, before he remembers your chest is exposed. His hands come circling around and even his hands are not big enough to hold your breasts in full. You look down at the flesh spilling out between his fingers and you moan. The sight turns you on more than it should.

The way he looks, hungry and wanting more, makes you act. You tear the leather mask from his face, your nails scratch his cheeks from the force of you fitting your fingers under the mask. He grunts. His face is ruddy and pockmarked from both his skin condition and his own self mutilation, his nose rotting away. His brow is heavy and thick and his eyes the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever seen. He’s beautiful and your heart lurches in your chest when the thought comes tumbling through you. It’s sick and you lash out against him, this is all his fault and you will make him pay.

You lay into him and bite down on his shoulder. Hard. Warmth overflows in your mouth, the tang of iron on your tongue and a bit of flesh stuck between your teeth. You smile into the wound you inflicted on him and lap at the blood pouring out of him. You’ve gotten your pound of flesh from him.

He fumes, glaring down at you with a deep frown set into what is left of his lips and snarls, showing off the glint of yellowed, sharp teeth. You push your fingers into the bite you gifted him with, collecting the blood and smear his over his mouth, fearing no repercussions as he nibbles on the finger that breeches his mouth. He could very well bite it off, but he won’t. He won’t bite because to Tommy you’re family now and family ain’t meat. Meat is mean and angry. Meat is filth and stink and lesser than. Meat is a corpse wasted on a walking, talking sack of shit. He loves you and being loved makes you family. You are family, so you are better than meat.

He picks up his pace. The sound of flesh smacking is almost too much. You can feel yourself grow wetter and feel the ease he thrusts with. You choke out a moan. He pushes you down by your shoulder onto the messy workbench. Something digs into the middle of your back. You squirm against it, but he pays you no mind. He is busy positioning you exactly how he wants— your ass close to the edge of the bench, your legs wrapped around his waist, his weight resting on his forearms, leaving no room for you to escape. As if you could.

Outside, the rain begins to pour with fervor.

It’s all starting to become too much. His weight, the heat, the thick of him splitting you open. You clench down, hoping to encourage him to finish. You can’t take it any longer. There’s no room to breathe beneath him, what little air you can manage is punched back out of you with each thrust of his cock. The guilt and fear rearing its ugly head again. It’s been too long, you need him out of you, off of you. You dig your nails into the flesh of his back, scratching as hard as you can, leaving red welting lines down the planes of his shoulders. He grunts louder. He likes it, you think.

This is sick, this shouldn’t be happening. You should be at home bickering with your roommates about who’s turn it is to do the dishes or tucked away in the library, scouring through the library catalog to find just the right book for your thesis. You would have already graduated if Tommy hadn’t yanked you by the back of your shirt out of your car. Your future was bright and full of potential and now you’re here, crushed under the weight of a man who kills without remorse, trapped by a woman who wants a daughter but will not value you the same as a son, and planning a pregnancy that will inexplicable tie you to this family, to this chapter in your life until death. You cry out.

He comes soon after and you feel disgusting.

He pulls out and his spend leaks out of you onto the dirt. You wipe your tears away and piece yourself back together into the character of hopelessly in love with the man who has taken your life from you. There’s no time to feel sorry for yourself.

You grab your ruined panties from beside you and clean yourself up as well as you can.

His blood has started to coagulate around your bite. He gingerly puts his button up over it, careful not to disturb the bite mark and start the bleeding over again. The last thing you need is Luda Mae questioning why he’s bleeding and what exactly you two got up to in this rundown barn.

Thomas offers you his hand, ready to help you down off the workbench, but you press your dirty underwear into his palm instead. He takes them eagerly, stuffing them into his back pocket. He’ll sniff at them later, keep them under his pillow and when he finally can’t smell you on the fabric, he’ll finally give it back to you for washing. It’s not the first time he’s hidden a pair of your used panties around for his own private pleasure. You’d found your blue panties mixed in with his clothing. The fabric was stiff and coated in white.

You brace your hands against the edge of the bench but before you can push off, his hands encircle your hips, gently lifting you up from the bench to avoid scraping the back of your thighs or your ass along the wood, and sets you down on the ground. His hands pet over you again, mussing up your hair in an attempt to smooth it, his fingers too big and gentle touch unpracticed. His fingers get caught in your hair and he frowns. You pull him apart from the nest he’s made in your hair with delicacy.

Are you supposed to hate him or love him? He’s the reason you’re here, why you are under the constant threat of butchery, but he treats you with such care even after he destroys you.

“C’mon, your mama will be wondering where we went off to,” you murmur.

The sky has turned dark blue, almost black, with heavy storm clouds. Hail the size of nickels and rain pelts down from above you—it takes only a moment before your dress is completely soaked. Lightning splits open the sky. The storm rages, wind blowing so hard it sends the rain horizontally.

Tommy looks down at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and he presses his forehead against yours. You close your eyes. It’s so nice to be treated like glass after such rough handling. He takes your hand in his and your heart shatters. Why are you letting a few gentle touches turn you upside down?

You are guided back to the Hewitt residence but the light flooding out of the kitchen window.

Luda Mae is full of accusations when you come back through the door, her eyes narrowed at you–always the first to be blamed. “What took you so long?”

Under the weight of her stare, you feel like she knows exactly what happened, like she can see it on your face. You feel something trickle down your legs. You’re not sure if it’s rain water or cum. You hope the rain has washed away the scent of sex and sweat on your skin.

You let go of Tommy’s hand and duck your head in supplication to Luda Mae. “Sorry, mama. Tommy was showing me all the hard work he did today.”

“That so?” Luda Mae turns to Tommy and her whole demeanor changes. She smiles so wide and reaches up to cup his face. “You’re such a good boy, Tommy.”

“Go on and set the table, baby,” she directs you. “Let Monty and Hoyt know it’s time to eat. After that you can finish hanging the laundry. You gotta finish your chores if you wanna eat.”

You breathe deeply before giving her your best smile, “Yes, mama.”

“Now you go and sit down, Tommy. It’ll only be a minute.”

---

You’ve long stopped thinking about the implications of this child’s conception, it’s less than moral reasoning. They will not be born out of want, but of need for your own survival and assurance of your status as a Hewitt. You will have a leg up for giving Thomas a child and Luda Mae a grandchild. While it might not provide you with the status of matriarch, you will hold more sway over Thomas. Besides, Luda Mae can’t live forever. Once they are all gone, it will be easier. You will take the child with you and hope that they are young enough to forget about the Texas heat and the stench of blood.

Tommy presented you with a ring not long after that day in the barn. It didn’t fit right, nothing here does. It hangs around your neck on a delicate gold chain. Hoyt had hooted and hollered and went out, drunk as a skunk, with his shotgun and shot off two rounds. Luda Mae had been as happy as a clam–her boy was finally getting everything he deserved.

You wear the ring, biding your time.

Luda Mae has let you move into the same room together. Privacy has given you more chances to try for this hypothetical child.

You wash out the blood in your underwear in the sink. It will catch one day and when that day comes, you will no longer be at the bottom of the food chain. You will be a prized bitch for breeding. What an honor to carry on the Hewitt name!

You will suffer the sickness, the distortion of your body both temporary and permanent. You will endure hours of labor, blood and mucus membranes spilling out from you by the buckets, the shifting of bones and tearing of skin for a child that will come out too big for your body. You will put yourself through the wringer for just a taste of the power that will come from it.

Tommy has no idea about your intentions. It’s sweet almost how he doesn’t sense what you're doing and you almost feel guilty for using him this way, letting him soak up all the physical attention he’d been denied by other women, but he will be overjoyed at the results. Tommy will be a good father. He will teach them how to pluck a chicken clean, how to suck the marrow out of a bone, the proper way to cut an artery to drain an animal of blood, how to use every piece of livestock so nothing goes to waste–all the same things he taught you. He will love them fiercely as he loves his mother. He will be a protector. You’d never planned for children yourself and you have no warm or soft feelings at the prospect of your future child. This child is just a means to an end. Maybe one day you will grow to love it. Until then, you have other things to worry about.

There is food to grow and laundry to do.

#thomas hewitt x reader #tommy hewitt x reader #x reader #slasher x reader #my writing #thomas hewitt x you #tommy hewitt x you

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tootoomanycats · 4 months ago

Text

Boiling Over

Suguru Geto x Personal Chef Smut

Pairing:

Pent Up Geto Cult Leader x OC Fem

(can also be read as reader insert)

Word Count: 3,576 words

Summary: Geto realizes that his new cook has started to put disgusting notions into his daughters heads. After tucking the girls to bed, he finds holding the lid on his anger challenging and complex. It is time to have a talk with this vile monkey; only things don’t go according to plan.

Warnings:

Language usage refers to non-sorcery users such as monkeys and animals and uses verbiage degrading non-users' ideology. (It's Geto; I am only trying to stick to how I think he would internally speak about us muggle folk.)

Enemies arguing to unexpected smut.

Mentions of premature ejaculation. (we make sure he knows he’s still wanted)

Minor mention of a potential eating disorder for Geto.

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone! I promise I am still working on rewriting Performances, but I had to stop because my brain would not let me get any sleep until I got this little one-shot out and edited. I never planned on writing any JJK content, but this is my lesson in never saying never. Honestly, I don't know if this will be a stand-alone one-shot or if it will develop into a short story. Either way, I hope you'll like it! As always if you like what you have read please remember that fanfic writers live off of likes, comments and reblogs- we wont admit it but we all have praise kinks.

Have you watered your writer today?

Each long stride only allowed more anger to fill his lungs. That disgusting, foul-breathed cretan. How dare she encourage such thoughts in their minds? To speak of this dementedly wicked world like the Garden of Eden, like it was something worth protecting. When creatures like her ruined its oasis, this was just more evidence that only further proved every reason to go through with the plan to wipe them out of existence.

Silence filled the long, winding corridors in the late hour—only the soft shuffles of his steps to be heard. The time spent wandering, stewing in the whirlpool of thoughts, was unknown. Be it subconsciously or with intention, he came to stand before the kitchen door. Finger paints covered the wood in various colors and shapes and crudely drawn animals. No doubt, the artistic freedom given to the girls by that damn woman. Another distraction put in front of them that should instead be spent studying and growing more substantial for the future, his future. Fingers massaged at his temple, and that damn under-eye twitch was back.

Before turning to continue on the walk of rage, a faint light shined from under the door. The source’s inconsistent flickering made it obvious it was a flame light, not the usual overhead bulbs. A shadow was moving about, its lines from under the door jam shifting around. Was someone trying to find a late-night snack? Curiosity got the better of him as the door cracked open, the well-oiled hinges making no noise to give away his presence. There, at the kitchen island, sat the bane of his existence. A single candle was her only light source as she made notes in a thick-bound journal. Books littered across the counter’s surface that she was scanning between.

After spending two hours tossing and turning in bed, Hope had given up on sleep finding her tonight. What time would have been spent dreaming was now used to research and plan instead. In the short time since coming to the estate, she realized how out of her depth she was. Growing up on a farm had taught her many valuable tidbits that rolled over into the new career of personal cook. Sadly, though, most of the knowledge of common fruits and vegetation was useless now due to being on foreign soil. Not to mention, all the meals commonly made here were a complete novelty to her. All day, the worry of not knowing a simple dish to make for the girls if one got sick filled her head.

She felt lucky that it was still summer, but fall and winter would soon come, so it was best to start studying basic soup stocks and how to preserve them now. Just as exhaustion began to creep its way up her spine, the face of that egotistical man came to mind. She groaned, remembering how he had already refused everything but the boiled, unseasoned chicken breast. A previous warning of how picky her new boss was had first been brushed off, but now she only saw it as something more concerning. When inquired, the girls only looked at each other before explaining how their father seemed to struggle with food. Something about how things always seemed to taste putrid: Hope made a mental note to inquire if there were meals that would not be so vehemently refused going forward.

“I see I am not alone in burning the late-night oil.” Geto had to hold in the smug smirk at watching Hope almost jump out of her skin when making his presence known. Stepping closer to the kitchen island, his eyes scanned its counter’s contents. Multiple subjects filled the open pages, text outlining photos and drawings of local flora and fauna in Japan, while another explained cultural customs entwined with particular meals. “Homework?” he asked, keeping the tone of the question light, almost teasing. Anger still simmered just below the surface, the lid of feigned equanimity keeping it in check.

She quickly closed the notebook, gathered the books, and walked backward while responding. “Just menu planning and figuring out what to plant in the garden first.” Mirroring his strained smile, she still tried to calm the racing of her heart from being caught off guard by his presence. “W-What has you up so late?” Gulping when the evident anger in his eyes seemed to be barely masked by the smile on his lips. With each step he took further into the space, she took one back-feigning needing to put the books back in their place, on the opposite end of the island. Something deep and primal warned not to turn her back to him.

Hands going back into their usual hiding place in the sleeves of his haori, he stopped where she had just been sitting. Magnanimous in allowing the useless cook her space. “I just tucked the girls into bed. They were having difficulty falling asleep, and I couldn’t figure out why for a while until they started asking some peculiar questions.” Geto tilted his head, the candle’s light only illuminating one half of his face while the other became shrouded in the darkness of the night. Even in the dimly lit space, the fear on her face was clear as day. Teeth ground together as realization dawned on him; at first, he had chalked up what she had told his daughters as common monkey ignorance. But now, in the fearful response of shirking away from him, it became apparent that she knew exactly what she had done.

“Oh? What kinds of questions?” Hope’s palms began to sweat, making it hard to hold the books. She had no shame in introducing the importance of protecting living things, nor held abasement in teaching how the circle of life affected everyone, including Nanako and Mimiko. However, this did not make her oblivious to the potential backlash of such actions. Placing the books down on the edge of the counter before straightening her posture; if she were to be fired or threatened, then he would have to do it while seeing her head held high.

What was once a simmering pot now started to boil. It was one thing to play stupid with him, but it was another thing entirely to look proud while doing it. Taking a step forward, he spoke sternly, “Yes. It seems they have these ideas suddenly.” Another step. “Notions I have taught them that will not be allowed in the future I am creating. You wouldn't happen to know where they got those from, would you?” He now stood only a few short strides from her and the corner she had put herself in. Watching as she stood taller with each step, even puffing her chest out. She was brave; he would give her that. Bravely stupid.

Hope’s eyes dropped down from where he now stood to the books before her. With a deep breath, she calmly spoke the answer he was trying to pull from her. “Yes, I had asked them what vegetables would be best to grow in the garden earlier today. As it turns out, they didn't know, and neither did I. So I found a book, and the three of us took turns reading and learning.” Wetting her mouth, she continued before glancing up to see the anger on his face build. “The girls started to have more philosophical questions on which I gave my opinions on.” Fear spread through her bones as he quickly walked into the small space that was left between them. Turning to face the outrage on his face, back facing the island as her hands held onto its edge for the needed stability of what was to come.

“Who are you to fill their minds with such disgusting notions?” The pot's lid danced over the boiling rage held within. The candlelight illuminated both of them clearly, making it possible to watch as shock filled her face at his statement.

At first, her jaw hung open until the feeling of offense had her back to defend herself. “You may think it disgusting, Your Radiance, but like it or not, the reality is that those girls are starting to realize that not everything in this world is horrible. There are things worth enjoying now, not just when you create some theoretical future.” Though her words rang with strength, her body responded in alarm at watching the monster before her shift through so many emotions.

“They are my children! And much too young to be curious about such things.” The lid crashed to the ground as the emotions finally boiled over the pot’s opening. His voice had raised before quieting back down.

“They are growing girls, just three years shy of being teenagers! How can you not see that they are becoming curious about the world around them? Both have questions, yet you refuse to acknowledge it.”

Wrath filled his eyes, his usually fake pacifying expression vanishing to show the true nature of his feelings as he crowded her further with a sneer, twisting his lips. “Oh? What questions would be so important that they would go to a vile monkey for answers instead of me?” His tone was dangerous, threatening, and low.

She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise; he did not expect such rage to be mirrored back. “I may be a monkey, but at least they feel safe enough to tell me when they like a boy.” Shock started filling his face as she took the chance to be the one now leaning in. “Tell me, how do you plan to explain to them that you will cause the death of their crush?”

Her eyes flicked back and forth between his; he was so close that she could feel the heat of his breath across her nose. Blood thrummed in her veins at how hard her heart pounded. The butcher-block wood creaked under her white knuckle grip, and her back pressed firmly against the counter as he further cornered her in. If this is how she died, then so be it; it will have been worth it to have finally shoved reality into the maniac's face.

Large palms and long arms became caged bars around her, nails scratching groves into the woodgrain. “A crush is a trivial thing.” He leaned further, pressing his chest forward, forcing her spine to bow back uncomfortably. The stiff lip of the wood now bit painfully into her haunches. Delicate fingers gripped the front of his gojogesa, desperate to have any control of how he continued contorting her upper body. His head tilted to whisper into her ear, “They will learn that a monkey’s place is beneath them.”

Geto hated weaklings and abhorred their very existence. It was revulsion, not excitement, that caused the fluttering in his stomach when their cheeks brushed. Loathing how it should have been disgust, not pleasure when her breasts pressed against his chest with each shuddered breath she took. He should have felt repulsed when realizing how perfect the closeness of their height was and how easy it would be to connect further.

It’s because of the years of celibacy that she was so sensitive, Hope told herself. Why else would such a monster cause the sensation of pooling hot honey to form in her belly? How, when Geto shifted his weight to press the muscle of his hips against hers, a whimper caught in her throat that pride refused to let out.

It must have been the lack of touch for so long that had her eyes fluttering shut when he nuzzled his nose into her temple. Monsters did not fathom such intimate affection. Monsters would not wrap such large hands around the back of her neck, gripping the corded muscles of her throat in such a dizzying way. She would not lift onto the counter and widen the distance of her thighs for a beast to slot between them so perfectly. Surely, such a creature would not brace his other hand around the center of her back to press further for contact. The sensation of the growl emanating from its lungs shooting to her core.

It was because his nose had become accustomed to the disinfectant spray that he was so sensitive to her smell. Internally berating himself for nuzzling into the hairline above the cook’s ear, lemon verbena, and citrus mixed pleasantly among the uplifting notes of her scent. Geto couldn’t refrain from pressing firmer into her hairline, gulping in deep breaths of Hope’s scent. The grip on the back of her neck tightened further; confirmation of the creature’s ability to still breathe came in how she tried and failed to hold back a second low moan.

His own response vibrated from how feminine hands gripped the thick fabric on his back and along his rib cage. Cursing at the way, soft, long legs dragged upward along the sides of his hips before wrapping around to press him closer. Silk robe falling open from the movement to show matching panties. It was unbelievable how quickly his cock hardened, straining against the white cloth of his momohiki. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, even with the five layers of Buddhist robes between them. How many years had it been since he had touched himself, let alone such a tempting, vile animal?

Hope bit her bottom lip at the delicious pressure against her core. If she hadn’t been so swept up in the moment’s intensity, she might have been embarrassed about the wet spot that could be felt already in her underwear. Skin growing hot as her body craved more contact and friction. The hands that previously gripped his clothes now reached up to thread into the long tendrils of the brutes hair. Fingernails scraped against his scalp before grasping firmly to pull the face away from hiding against her cheek. The strangled gasp he made caused her walls to flutter; what other noises would this monster of a man make?

The site that greeted her was breathtaking: flushed cheeks, eyes wide with shock and pleasure, and an oh-so-tempting pout to kiss. Gone were the fake smiles, disgusted glares, and angry scowls. Now what stood before her was a desperate mess of a man whose cock was so hard it could be felt through the many layers of clothing. She felt relief from the sight before her; a previous worry that he was toying with her was dissipated. No one would be able to deny his desire from how hard he was breathing, his own hands clinging to her like a lifeline.

Suguru was a man who had faced his fair share of dangerous and terrifying situations in his lifetime. He prided himself on keeping calm and making calculated choices during high-stress moments. So panic began to set in when he found moving from this frozen position impossible. The way her hands had gripped his hair, forcing them to hold eye contact, had his cock throbbing. Panic rose higher from the sensation. She kept glancing at his lips; this wasn’t good. Willing his lungs to work and throat to open, a quiet but hoarse word came out. “No.”

It was Hope’s turn to pout. Her legs locked tighter around him. In reality, he could break free from her so easily; the fact that he wasn’t just proved how much his body languished for contact. Her eyes pleaded as she took in his image, memorizing it and burning it into her mind. “Please.” she quietly asked in return. Hips rocked gently against his to help emphasize her ask. All movement paused at hearing an odd sound. Her brow furrowed in question at the noise he made suddenly, his face contorting to one that could be described as painful. Had she hurt him just now?

Geto eyes shut as the sudden climax continued quivering through him. Its shame was felt running down his stomach, legs, and clothing. He refused to look, to see her expression once she realized what had just occurred.

Hope's concern grew as he stayed still and closed off, contrasting how he clung to her a moment ago. The grip in his hair melted into gentle touches on his cheek, cupping his face to see if she could coax him to look at her. Hormones and endorphins craving the intimacy once more. When his eyes still refused to open, she scanned more of him to find the source of the sudden change. That’s when she spotted it; instantly, it all made sense. The relatively sizable wet spot formed on his clothes was proof of what occurred. Warmth spread to her cheeks as sinful thoughts began to race in her mind, the desire for more growing. Biting her bottom lip, she murmured-

“Again.”

His eyes sprung open wide, disbelief shaping the expression. Their eyes met as he processed her expression of hunger. The gentle touch of her hands on his cheek shifted to clasping the side of his face in place. Hips tilted as she pressed her core to where the wet spot lay on him. His mouth was agape in shock at the feeling of being nuzzled along his jawbone, the sensation trailing a line to his ear where a whisper was pressed against its shell. “I want another one, please.” The ask was sweet and sincere, even begging. Words failed him as a hand gently guided his own from the counter across the warmth of a plush thigh to someplace much hotter. A palpation hit his ribcage when feeling thin satin fabric, saturated and slick, shuttering when Hopes’s fingers encouraged his own to press more firmly against the spot. Her resounding whine brought him back from the out-of-body experience.

The overwhelming rage from before shifted into something much more savage and ravenous. Years of repressed urges bled to the surface; sturdy fingers gripped into the base of her hair like a handle to be pulled back from him, the movement forcing her skull to tilt up. It felt impossible to catch any breath as it heaved erratically between the groaning and growls, responding to how desperate legs clung to him. Any previous control had spilled from the pot that now boiled over. Another hand raised to cup her face with the same tenderness she had shown him just moments ago, watching how her eyes repeated their glances to his lips again. Finally, he leaned in.

“Shhh, I know where she hid the cookies from earlier.” Multiple footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer outside the door. Mimiko and Nanako both telling the other to be quiet, annoying the other with each repeated response given back and forth.

Hope and Geto’s eyes widened as the reality of their situation quickly sunk in. Her mouth opened and closed like the koi fish in the pond outside, and before she could say a word, the maniac was gone. Her brain struggled to process his disappearance, the movement inhuman in its speed. The limbs that once were held up against the other body flopped from no longer having something to grip onto. As the kitchen door slowly opened, she scrambled off the counter and ripped open one of the fridge doors to hide her overtly flushed face. Praying that its cold air would help calm down her heart rate. She was panicking as she quickly fixed the front of her silk robe back in its proper place.

Hidden outside the kitchen’s veranda, Geto stood in horror as the events that had just transpired replayed in his mind. Dismay that the truth about who started the whole situation was him. What was worse was that as hard as he tried to feel the disgust he so proudly touted for her kind, he could only feel how hard he was--again. Realization dawned on him of how dangerous the cook was as he shifted Hopes’s title from monkey to succubus.

#geto suguru #jjk suguru #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto #suguru geto #jjk #suguru geto x oc

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sharks-n-bones · 10 months ago

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Y'all, I'd like to apologize in advance, this is the longest one yet

Without further adue

BRANCH WON THE POLL SO IT'S BRANCH TIME BABY LET'S GO

When the flood hit, Branch was the most prepared troll in all of Pop Village. He was a survivalist, he built an entire underground Bunker with a functional elevator by himself, of course he'd know what to do

When the rivers started overflowing, Branch was suspicious from the get go. It was late summer, the snow already melted from the mountains and flooded the rivers. There hasn't been any rain recently, so there's no reason the rivers would've flooded

Branch’s hunch was soon proved correct when the river just kept flooding over, the water reaching the village in no time, causing them all to have to relocate. They went for higher ground, and when the storms came they hunkered down where they could until they ended, and they began moving again

Once they were finally somewhere safe for the time being, they began building boats. King Peppy advised that families and friends should stick together and travel together, and Branch had to agree with him. There was safety in numbers, especially in cases such as this

Branch helped Poppy, the king and the snackpack (along with Prince D, who was visiting when the water started rising) to build a boat that would fit them all, with room to spare, of course. Branch was nothing if not prepared. He'd drawn up blueprints in his spare time on the journey to higher ground, and designed the boat big enough for them all to have their own rooms and bathrooms, a kitchen, multiple storage rooms, a common room and other such amenities. And of course, he built an area above the main deck for farming

Since Satin and Chenille were pros on working with fabrics, Branch asked them to make the sails. Smidge helped with the heavy lifting, since she was by far the strongest out of the Snackpack. Cooper, Prince D, DJ Suki and Biggie helped with gathering supplies and resources. Poppy and Guy Diamond helped with decorations, but pretty much everyone helped with the actual building of the ship

In no time, their ship was built and stocked with enough provisions to last a couple weeks at least. Branch was proud of the ship and the hard work everyone put into it. They sang and danced and hugged throughout the process, but it seemed to make the building go along quicker, if anything, and it boosted everyone's moods. Once the water has risen enough to be lapping against the bottom of the boat, they worked together to push it into the sea before hopping on and setting sail

Other than now having to work harder on surviving, things stayed much the same. They spent their days singing, dancing and hugging while they tended to their little farm, fished, and gathered resources and food from any island's they came across. Most of the group also enjoyed swimming when they had the chance, and Branch would even join them sometimes, but he was a bit more.. suspicious of the water that flooded the world

He'd been working on theories and gatherings clues as to what caused this great flood. Surely, it wasn't natural. There was no way! The world wouldn't just flood without something to cause it. But what could've been powerful enough to do such a thing..? When he wasn't busy foraging, tending to the garden and making sure the ship was still in peak condition, he was usually pouring over the clue board he'd made about the flood

He'd added some.. other changes he'd noticed to the clue board as well, such as how everyone on the ship was developing rashes on their necks, and how he noticed that their skin seemed to be drying out faster while their hair was all still picture perfect, if not looking better than ever. He added how the webbing between their fingers seemed to be inching up to their knuckles, ever so slowly. He'd thought he'd be the only one to notice that, but he saw some of the others glancing at their hands with odd expressions once in a while. A lot of other trolls they came across were having the same exact effects, so it couldn't just be a freak disease that had taken over the ship. Besides, if it was, they wouldn't have as much energy as they did. Other things would be noticed

He was pouring over his clue board again when a theory suddenly came to his mind. He laughed at himself at first, because there was no way, it would be impossible-

He started taking samples of the water that now covered most of the planet, trying to see if there was anything in it that could be causing these changes. He checked the rainwater they collected, ocean water, rivers and creeks if any islands still had them, but each and every time he came up empty. There were no weird chemicals or anything of the sort he could find

There was nothing he could physically see, but the water was the only thing he could think of that would cause these changes! He even checked the fish they caught and any food they grew or foraged, but there was nothing unusual. At this point, the only thing that could be causing these changes was magic! He chuckled at the thought, and pushed it aside… not before adding it to the clue board with a bunch of question marks, though

Occasionally, techno trolls would approach their ship and ask if they needed any help. The next time one breached the surface, Branch asked if they'd noticed anything in the water since the flood hit. The techno troll's eyes widened, and he winced before sighing and climbing onto the ship

He explained everything he knew. Told them about the legends of sirens, of their history with them, how they locked them away. How the sirens broke free right around the time the water began rising

Then, he explained how they filled the ocean that covered the planet with and ancient and powerful magic. He explained that it would slowly change their bodies to become more siren-like. As he explained, he pointed out the changes they were already experiencing. Explained the rashes on their necks would develop into gills, the webbing between their fingers would reach the last knuckle for better swimming, their bodies would grow scales and that their skin was drying faster because it was becoming dependant on the sea water

Everyone had gathered to listen, and everyone looked shocked. Poppy examined her hands, Satin and Chenille ran fingers through their hair. Biggie and Smidge brought hands to the rashes on their necks, Guy and Tiny looked at their glitter-coated skin, and Cooper and Prince D glanced at each other, seemingly have an entire conversation without words

The techno troll continued, explaining that they'd be able to change into the same forms as siren's could. The troll forms — how they looked now, the half forms — what they were going to look like once the changes were complete, and the siren forms — where their legs would fuse into a tail and they'd take on more characteristics of whatever sea creature the ocean decided to attach to them

He explained that the more time they spent in the water, the faster the changes would happen, but they wouldn't be able to stop it. He said not to fear it, it would only help them out in the long run

Branch asked why they would cause the flood to begin with only to help them survive in the end. The techno troll said that their war was with the technos, not with anyone else. Dubz didn't know what they had planned for techno’s, but said not to worry about it. It was the techno’s fight, not theirs

Branch felt bad for them, and could see the others felt the same. The techno troll bid them farewell after that and left, leaving the group in silence. He could see that familiar gleam in Poppy's eyes, one that meant she wanted to help them, she just didn't know how yet. Branch couldn't help but smile at that. She always wanted to help people, and he loved that about her

For the rest of the day, things were a bit more quiet than usual. Everyone thinking about what they'd just learned. Branch sighed and went to find Poppy, wanting to make sure she was alright

The next day, they reached an island and they all unanimously decided to take a day to completely relax. They deserved a day off, especially after all they'd learned yesterday. So they tossed the idea of work to the wind and spent the day relaxing at the beach

Everyone was having fun. Building sandcastles, playing in the waves, relaxing on the sand, floating around, just generally having a good time. Branch was even relaxing, just sitting in the sand and reading a book for once. He was so lost in the pages, he almost didn't hear Tiny scream

He looked up just in time to see a fish come out of the water and latch onto Tiny Diamond, dragging him under, and Guy Diamond frantically diving after him. Branch immediately tossed his book aside and ran into the water after them. Guy hadn't come up for air yet so Branch dove after him. Guy dove pretty far down, so he was slowing down and running out of air by the time Branch got to him and began dragging him up through the water

The moment they breached the surface, Guy coughed and gasped, taking in a large breath, before immediately elbowing Branch in the face and fighting against his hold

Branch understood why he was fighting so hard. Tiny was Guy's son, he loved Tiny more than anything in the world. But, as much as it hurt admit, Tiny and that fish were long gone by now. Branch held onto Guy tightly until he eventually stopped fighting and just went limp in his hold

Branch sighed sadly and began hauling him to shore while Cooper, Prince D and Smidge dove into the water to keep looking for Tiny, just in case

Guy wouldn't stop looking at the ocean once Branch brought him to shore. He just stood there, frozen like a statue, before he eventually crumpled to his knees. Then, to Branch’s utter horror, he slowly began turning grey. From the tips of his hair, moving downwards until he was completely dull, the glitter that made up his skin now matte and lifeless

Branch’s heart ached for him. He didn't know what it was like to lose a child, thank the stars above, but he knew what it was like to lose a family member and he knew what it was like to turn grey. He heard the others gasping in shock, but Branch only frowned and wrapped an arm around Guy, giving him all the comfort he could. The others soon joined in, all wrapping Guy in one giant hug. Guy never hugged back

They had stayed at the island for a week longer than they'd planned to, just in case Tiny somehow showed up, and Guy waited on the beach every day. Tiny never showed. Eventually, they brought Guy back to the ship and to his room. The others were all concerned for Guy, but Branch tried to tell them not to go overboard or push the poor guy too much. He remembered how much the toxic positivity bothered him when he went grey, and knew it could be smothering and overwhelming

Once in a while, Branch would check in on Guy and bring him some food if he noticed he hasn't been eating. Aside from occasionally checking up on him, he gave him some space

For the next 2-3 months, a melancholy air hung around the ship. They all would still sing and dance, but it wasn't the same now that two voices were missing. Guy didn't come out of his room that much. He usually would for meals or to sometimes help Branch when he was brainstorming safety precautions (presumably to make sure nothing like what happened to Tiny ever happens again, or at least that was Branch’s theory), but most days he stayed cooped up in his room

Branch felt bad for him. He wished he could do more to help, but he didn't know Guy like the others did. He could only think to do what he wished others would do when he turned grey — show he cared, but give him enough space to breathe

A few months passed uneventfully, just going from island to island, gathering resources and taking some time to try and relax before setting sail again. It was another normal day for them, they had just docked at an island when something different finally happened

A ship came up beside their own and set anchor. A lone figure wearing a pair of reflective goggles aboard the ship used their hair to board their own boat, landing with a loud thud on the deck. They pushed their goggles up to their forehead and Branch gasped

This couldn't be happening. 20 years of absolute silence, complete separation. 20 years since he left him behind, and suddenly he shows up right when a flood takes over the planet? Branch couldn't believe his eyes. The troll then spoke, stating he was searching for someone when they suddenly locked eyes, and the newcomer aboard their ship grinned and called him a name he hadn't heard in decades

“Baby Branch!!”

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dfastback68 · 2 months ago

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Failed to think up modern goth fam scenarios, but this one’s for @kacievvbbbb anyway because I do blame them for the concept of post-canon Mihawk’s Home for Displaced Pirates. (Building off of this fic)

Besides King, who else might wind up there? I don’t really know what’s going on with him in canon, but the answer is obvious: Moria! Perona’s already living on Kuraigana part time/most of the time, so eventually she’d drag her original adoptive dad there.

Of course she wouldn’t tell him it’s Mihawk’s island. Just that there’s this great spooky island with plenty of room and huge graveyards and she loves it and she knows he’ll love it, too. Moria doesn’t put it together that it’s Kuraigana until they’re already there. Perona has absolutely done this on purpose. He really should have seen it coming.

Mihawk isn’t thrilled but he doesn’t object. There’s plenty of room, after all (and he knows Perona will be insufferable if he said no). He does enforce pretty strict rules about fighting among the inhabitants. They can leave their past grievances behind if they want to stay here. No one really wants to mess with Mihawk (or Zoro when he's around).

The first few days go fine, but Perona has forgotten a very crucial aspect to the side of the castle Moria is living in: King. Objectively she knows Moria suffered a crushing defeat from Kaido, and that King was certainly by his side, but it’s not like it’s personal, right? There’s no fighting allowed on the castle grounds, except where training and sparring is permitted. Nothing could ever possibly go wrong.

It’s probably dumb luck that King and Moria don’t run into each other at first. Then one morning Moria walks into the study to find Perona and King in the middle of one of their hair braiding sessions, and all hell breaks loose.

Moria is shrieking, King is yelling, Perona is screaming. She’s never seen Moria so motivated to actively harm someone when it breaks out into an actual fight. Her negative hollows won’t work on them. Moria simply cannot stand the sight of someone like King being anywhere near Perona. That’s his daughter!!!!

Mihawk has to break it up. Mihawk, all 6 foot something of him, getting between King and Moria, both 20 feet tall.

He throws them outside and essentially puts them in time out. Perona is sobbing. Mihawk is seriously reconsidering this entire operation. Neither of them really have anywhere to go, though, so he has to think of consequences to quell this sort of behavior. Exactly what he’s been hoping to avoid.

I figure Mihawk’s brand of punishment is just manual labor, but most of the castle residents already pitch in with gardening and farming�� so he probably puts them on kitchen duty together. It’s the one room best equipped to handle King’s flame if he gets pissed, and Moria hates doing any kind of menial work at all.

Forcing them to peel potatoes and carrots and wash grapes (under Perona’s supervision) until they’re united in their anger against Mihawk instead of each other works pretty well, actually. Crisis averted.

(Also wondering if we should throw the Seraphim in there somewhere, too, since again Kuraigana is just a big chill island where they could maybe learn to be people and not live under scrutiny. And let King suffer a mental breakdown over them in privacy. Moria has no idea what to do with a kid murder robot version of himself. Perona treats them like her minions and then eventually like little siblings.)

#my post #one piece #dracule mihawk #perona #goth fam #gecko moria #king the wildfire #can't forget the mishanks though #Moria probably knows/suspects but accidentally finding Shanks and Mihawk canoodling in some hallway has him gagging #Mihawk is also starting to consider this kind of reaction as grounds for expulsion

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taylormarieee · 1 year ago

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~It starts with you~

Summary: You are living with Hershel on the farm. He adopted you when you were stranded during this apocalypse. When Newcomers come to the farm seeking help and refuge. You fall in love with a handsome, married Officer.

Genre: Fluff-Suggestive

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Fem!Greene!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Kissing, none really just fluff. (Just a reminder this is like season 2 Rick when he kinda starts growing his beard a little), Suggestive Thoughts, Touching in inappropriate ways, the group being weird/watching you guys.

Previously:

"Uhm Rick t-thank you for catching me. I owe you one!" You say putting on an awkward smile. "Uh yea, no problem." Rick says weakly holding onto a wall. "Uh Rick you don't look too good? You need to rest." Maggie says. "Yea, thanks Maggie! I'll put him to rest." Lori says clenching her jaw.

You and Maggie both awkwardly walk away and head up to her room. "You totally like him! Those puppy dog eyes give it away sister!" She says excitedly. "No Maggie! I can't, He is married." You say shaking your head.

"Sister, Have you seen the tension between Shane and Lori? They clearly have or Had something going on behind Rick's back and haven't told him! Just talk to Rick, get to know him." She says smiling. I roll my eyes and get up and say goodnight to everyone, even Carl who is now awake and responsive.

Maybe you will take up on Maggie's offer and go for it.

After all, you always get what you want...

Now:

You wake up the next morning feeling amazing! The sun is shining and you are excited to meet the rest of Rick's group. Like fully meet them. You don't even know half of them besides Shane, Lori, Carl, Rick, Dale, and Andrea.

You brush your teeth, put your hair into your favourite style and put on a pink tank top and overalls with worn out Converse. You say good morning to everyone in the kitchen when you arrive.

"Good Mornin everyone!" You say happily as you take a fruit from Maggies plate. She swats your hand away and you chuckle. You hear certain whispers coming from a cute little Korean boy and you smile at him.

"You must be Glenn! It's nice to meet ya!" You say, your accent is very thick this morning. He smiles and nods and pink tint forming prominently around his cheeks and nose.

"Maggie' how's daddy doin?" You ask in a worried tone. "He doesn't want these people to stay sis, he wants 'em to leave as soon as Carl's ok. I like these people y/n, I can't watch 'em leave! After everything we helped 'em with? They deserve a place to stay. We have the room!" She says clearly upset.

"It's fine. We don't want any trouble." Shane says.

"Who said you were trouble? I'll convince Daddy to let you good folks stay. But, on one condition! Please help around the farm, we can do this alone but it would be faster with some help. We lost some people and I can't afford to lose anymore." You say looking at the pictures on the fridge.

They all nod in understanding and you smile. You walk out of the room, your hips swaying as you walk away. You pass Rick and stop in your tracks. You see him sitting with his son and your contemplating whether to go over there or not.

You decide to look at the front door and walk straight out of the house. You couldn't do it. Why couldn't you do it! And if you go back in, it will seem weird.

You just decide that you're going to occupy your time with some gardening. You grab some tools and walk to the garden and begin working.

~1 hour later...

You were about to finish up when Shane walks up to you.

"Hey, It's uh Y/N right?" He asks holding his hand out for you to take. You gladly take his hand with a smile and stand up.

"Yeah, what's up? Is anyone else hurt?" You ask worry contorting on your face. He chuckles.

"No no, I was just wondering if you would like to come shoot with us. I know we're gonna be on our way soon but in case y'all are ever in danger." He kinda trails off awaiting your response.

"Oh, of course! I'm a little rusty so go easy on me." You say chuckling. "I gotcha darlin." He says with a sweet smile.

"So Shane, what did you do before all of this?" You ask out of curiosity.

"Well, I was an officer. Me and Rick both were. But I lost him in the midst of all this when it first started. Thought my best friend was dead, but let me tell you something. Rick, is a good man with a strong heart. And I love him, man. He's my brother." Shane says, walking with you to the shooting area.

You smile and nod. You guys arrive and you see Rick standing there. You see Andrea and Dale and Maggie and Glenn. Maggie runs up to you and hugs you.

You smile and hug her back. "Do you know how to shoot?" You ask maggie.

"Daddy's taught me a little bit. I know the basics." She says smiling.

You nod and walk towards where Rick and Shane are standing.

"G'day fellow mates!" You say in your terrible British accent earning a chuckle from both men.

"Hey. I just wanted to say again thank you for saving my sons life. I've never seen anyone do that as quickly as you did." Rick says smiling.

"Oh please, don't thank me. Thank Hershel." You say with a smile.

He nods and opens his mouth to ask you something but his question was already asked by Shane.

"You wanna learn how to shoot? Rick can help you if ya want darlin." He says with a smirk on his face.

"Yea that'd be nice. Like I said Shane, Im a little rusty so please go easy on me." You say giggling. Rick smiles at your laughter. You have such a cute giggle, he thought.

And such a beautiful smile, and pretty, luscious lip- God what was he thinking. He's married and plus you probably don't see him that way anyway.

"Well c'mon. We don't got all day!" He says going to ask Andrea for her gun. She seemed to have a bit of an attitude but she gave it up anyway.

Everybody walked behind you to watch how the noob would do with a gun. Rick handed you the gun and lifted your arms up to the right position.

"Nuh uh, Hand only on the trigger if you intend to shoot, alright?" He asks his accent pretty and deep.

You shake your head to show you understand and fix your stance. Rick slides his hands up your arms to your shoulders before whispering in you ear, "Good Luck." He says with a smirk.

Unaware that his wife was watching the whole interaction. You smiled and said, "Thanks."

You aimed the gun at the first can and took a breath in and out. You held the gun up and bent your elbows like Rick had shown you. You put on foot in front of the other to make sure you don't fall on your ass and put your hand on the trigger.

You breathe in and out one more time before you pull the trigger. Dead hit. The can was knocked straight off the wood. You walked down and continued to shoot the cans over and over never faltering and hitting every single one.

When you were done you see the proud look on Rick and Shanes face, shock on Maggie and Glenn's face and annoyance on Andrea's face.

You smile and jump up and down, but you quickly stop remembering theres a loaded weapon in your hand. Rick walks up to you and hugs you spinning you around forgetting that Lori was even there. You didn't see Lori.

Too caught up in your excitement so you drop the gun and immediately hug him back.

"Your a fast learner. I'm proud of you." He says smiling while putting you down.

Before you could respond, Lori interrupts. "Rick! A word." She says giving the most stern look at him but nevertheless she smiles at you before walking away. You smile back and walk over to Maggie and Glenn and engage in conversation while watching Rick and Lori from afar.

The sun is starting to set and you're sitting on the porch on the swing looking at you feet swing and thinking.

You're thinking about how beautiful Rick looked in the sunlight today. His beautiful curls and his beautiful smile. God why are you like this! Thinking about a married man with a child! You are insane. But why did he have to be so hot.

It's the apocalypse and you don't exactly get laid anymore. Just you, your sex books and your fingers. Its the best combo during times like this but sometimes you don't get privacy anymore.

Hershel's busting in your room asking for help in the garden. Maggie needs help cooking or setting the table. Beth needs help with her hair on certain days. Its so much.

So when a hot officer comes knocking on the door asking for help, how could you not fall in love! He's such a pretty man and you wish he was yours so badly.

You wish he was on top of you ramming into your body so hard. You wish he was eating you out until you cry and scream his name.

You really wish that Rick Grimes was yours and yours only. You treat Carl like he is your own. Hell you saved his life for christ's sake! You're older than Maggie and Beth. You're of that age where you would want children and live in a cute little house.

Now those dreams are crushed because of the frickin apocalypse. Your sad about it but grateful it happened. Because you met some amazing people along the way.

Your so lost in your thoughts you don't even realize the man coming up to you. "What're you thinking about? hmm?" He asks with a smirk on his face.

Startled you say the first thing that comes to mind without even registering what your about to say.

"You Rick." You say staring at him. His face shifts into a sly smile and you retract your statement. "Uhhh, oh god, not l-like that I-I mean like y-you and the group!" You say nervously chuckling.

He lets out a laugh and sits next to you. "Your cute. Anyone ever tell ya that? You're so fun and kind and adorable. So nervous all the time and I personally find it adorable."

Omg did he just call you adorable! Oh my god you must be dreaming.

"R-Really? You think I'm adorable?" You ask scooting a little closer, which he notices.

"I mean yeah, you look adorable, you act adorable and who wouldn't think a girl like you is adorable." He says scooting closer to you as well.

You both are so lost in your conversation you guys don't even realize that everybody is inside invested in your conversation. They can't hear you guys of course but they see you guys laughing and scooting closer to each other.

Lori's watching the whole thing with anger. So what if you saved her sons life that's her husband you're flirting with. She doesn't want to go out there yet but she sits back and watches whats going to happen.

Daryl smiles to himself knowing that Rick had eyes for you all this time. Maggie is smiling her ass off at you shooting your shot with Rick.

You guys continue to laugh and talk about other stuff.

"See at first I wanted to major in Criminal Justice but, I chose to major in being a nurse and go to nursing school instead cause I noticed how much I loved helping people. Plus I watched a lot of doctor shows!" You say laughing.

He chuckles and nods. "See that's very interesting. Me personally I loved helping people just, in a more dangerous way. Being a cop is scary yea but it made me happy you know? Especially being with Shane. It made it a whole lot better." He says smiling at you.

You watch and stare at his lips as he talks. You decide in you mind to just go for it. You move you face and kiss him. You give him a semi-long kiss and then pull away.

You immediately start apologizing but is interrupted by him kissing you back. He grabs your jaw and kisses you passionately. You move your hand to his neck and kiss him back.

The kiss lasts for longer than expected and you guys start getting closer to each other and your hands start to roam.

Your hands go down his neck to his chest and his hands go up your thighs and to your waist. You pull away and he starts attacking you neck with kisses. Sucking and kissing spots where there are sure to be bruises that you won't be able to hide.

you turn your head to the window and see everybody staring at you guys with smiles, and smirks on there faces. You squeal once you see Lori and push Rick off you and fall to the floor to hide yourself from the embarrassment.

Rick has a puzzled look on his face and when you see it, you lift your hand and do a pointing motion to the window. He looks at the window and sees everybody staring.

He looks around the room and sees Lori. He drops down as well and you both burst out laughing.

Oh god what have you guys done!

A/N: This was fun and cute to write so I hope y'all enjoyed!

Taglist: @sickyrat @sinsandsweetness @catt-leya @carlsdarling @loveforcarl @carlgrimesenthusiast @rickydixky @rickswh0r3 @murdadixon

#rick grimes #the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fanfiction

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latenlghtdevil · 3 months ago

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so since I can't stop thinking about head chef!Sukuna, let me ramble on about some head cannons I have about him

head chef!sukuna...

mainlines a monster before every single shift, and can be seen paying megumi to run to the corner convenience store to buy another during busy nights

he's on aux, and since the ancient speaker system is ran out of the managers office, his phone is locked in their almost the entire shift and no one else has the chance to change it

beside the two managers, satoru and utahime, but they dont care enough ab it honestly

he literally has no clue how many hours he actually spends doing some sort of work for the restaurant

ex: the many hours he spends up at night working on new menu items, the earlier mornings he spends wandering through local markets and farms, the days off filled with paperwork or recipes or meetings let's not talk ab it he's gonna geta headache again

speaking of headaches- he definitely talked Gojo into letting his little brothers work there as soon as they were able to

but they weren't allowed to work in the kitchen, he didn't wanna have to make them put up with his attitude

his kitchen consists of quite a few chefs, with a lot of lower cooks switching in and out with their intern spots

don't worry, they are paid interns

his main cooks consisted of suguru, toji, aoi, and uraume

he'd worked at quite a lot of fine dining restaurants, having earned a michaeline star for the fifth restaurant he'd worked at by the age of 24

before he took in his younger brothers and settled back into their childhood home, he'd spent about five years working in any fine dining place he could

he'd been cooking since as long as he could remember, quickly figuring that if that was what he was good at and enjoyed, he would dedicate his life to it maybe sukuna lied on a resume or two, but he was gonna get to the top one way or another

somehow his arrogance seemed to work until it didn't; it'd get his foot in the door places, and then it'd turn around and get him fired a few months later

once his grandfather passed, he found himself finding his way back to Tokyo even if he didn't want to

luckily for him, his former classmate Satoru Gojo was managing a failing restaurant with an incapable cook named Mahito

Gojo was more than happy to deal with Sukuna's shit again if it meant keeping his place afloat

they're kinda friends, but it's weird because they're always mad at each other

that's how everyone's relationships with him are, though, and Sukuna's always irritating someone tbh

he has a cat- he found the little dark grey kitten asa stray feeding off scraps she found in the dumpster, so he couldn't help but scoop her up

she seemed sweet enough, but as soon as he fell asleep she nearly clawed the couch to shreds, thus earning herself the name akumu which means nightmare

she was horribly affectionate and vocal, constantly meowing for attention, but only towards sukuna and the brats, she shot dirty looks and would actively hiss at anyone else stepping foot into their house

she's his baby, but that secrets behind closed doors

she sleeps in his bed, she has a plethora of toys and collars, and don't you dare open the treat cabinet— he's not ashamed

his other secret is his back garden it wasnt like a huge secret, but it wasn't something he wanted to share with everyone either

sukuna thought he was going crazy the first time he made a dinner almost entirely from his home grown ingredients because it tasted fucking insane

he liked stroking his own ego but something about his ingredients actually made it better, Choso and Yuji couldn't even argue

it wasn't anything vast, and the variety wasn't huge but it was enough to make each meal just a bit better and it was something he held near to himself, only sharing it with his brats

#i may have already started a headchef!sukukna x reader fic thats the longest thing ive written so far #but dont worry ab it #ill probably post something about that soon #anyways 👀🤐#sukuna #sukuna imagine #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna au #ryomen sukuna au #yuji itadori #jjk au

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hoshikarasu · 2 years ago

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— Dating Arven

arven x male reader ( he/him ) headcanons !

It took him a moment to realize that he was developing feelings for you.

After all, his focus has been so fixated on Mabosstiff that he didn’t recognize how special you made him feel when you decided to put him and his dreams as your high priority.

For once, he wasn’t alone in something that meant so much to him! You were there by his side!

Which he realizes that he really likes the thought of you being by his side.

“Oh. I like him,”

Safe to say, the day he finally comes around to confess, you happily reciprocate his feelings.

He’s a bit awkward about holding your hand. You usually have to be the one to initiate it at first before he comes around to seek out for your hand himself. His hand is larger than yours, oftentimes engulfing yours in his, and he always rubs circles with his thumb against the back of your hand.

It’s no surprise that he’ll pack an extra lunch just for you.

But he also keeps your other favorite snacks in his bag!

You mention that you wished you had some of your favorite candy/chips right now while you two are exploring? He’s already opening up his bag to hand you what you’re craving, saying how he just happened to see these when buying more ingredients for sandwiches and other things.

He loves it when you spend time with him, whether you’re doing the same thing or not.

As long as you’re in the same room as him, he’s very content.

You’re often there in the kitchen with him, whether you’re helping him or not.

If you’re a disaster with cooking then he’ll have you sit on the counter and let you taste test whatever it is that he’s cooking. And you can sneak in kisses here and there whenever he walks past you.

Your mother enjoys gardening and after hearing you’re dating Arven, she pesters you to give him fresh vegetables and more from the garden every time you go and visit her. It is her insistence on giving him fresh ingredients that led to you wanting to pick up gardening as well.

You adore the look on his face when you hand him any fresh produce, he says that his cooking tastes better when using those ingredients because you worked hard on growing and you’re also learning to farm the Herba Mystica to surprise him with.

You like to play with his hair. He loves your touch so much, how you run your fingers through his hair, play with it, and doesn’t mind what you do. If you want to braid it then he won’t stop you.

Mabosstiff absolutely adores you because of how happy you make Arven. Sometimes it’s a race on who’ll greet you first, Arven or Mabosstiff.

If you’re together as it becomes late in the day, you’re more than happy to snuggle up right to his side and cuddle with him. Of course, this will become a cuddle pile with both Mabosstiff and Miraidon/Koraidon squeezing themselves around you two.

#— ✦ ˙ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 .ᐟ #Pokemon #pokemon scarvio #Pokemon Scarlet and Violet #Pokemon Arven #pokemon arven x reader #arven x male reader #arven x reader

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raggydraws · 11 months ago

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This Reminds me of College

Surya and Tabatha attempting to teach themselves Merikih to varying degrees of success Tags: Surya & Farmer, Potentially OOC, Tabatha has ADHD and is HYPERFOCUSED on Merfolk, Surya and Tabby are best friends, Author doesn't write often please be nice, HC: Surya knows about the Merfolk because that lab is small and there's no way he doesn't, an attempt at Indonesian words, Gen Fic, Surya and Tabby are both smart individuals but hanging out with your friends can and will kill brain cells for the lols, No Beta we die like Pufferfish, Merikih is italicized

If Dr. Jiang had tried to keep the existence of merfolk from Surya; she hadn’t tried very hard. Given the fact he’d been standing right behind her, also looking through the monitor eyes of Kibble, when Tabatha had stumbled upon two of them didn’t help.

Of course he immediately swore himself to secrecy about them, Dr. Jiang, er, Ling as she insisted, hadn’t even gotten the chance to argue why they shouldn’t go blathering about it to the whole island. It just made sense not to. Her entire research basis, the solar pillars and the super corals, hells, the oil spill itself and the presence of the monstrous company that caused it in his new home alone kept his mouth shut.

Talk and innocent people would probably die. Morbid.

Plus it would’ve really put a dent into the bet about Dr. Ling he had going with Tabatha.

The farmer in question had also resurfaced and crossed town in record time to come yell their own arguments about keeping a closed lid on the existence of merfolk. How they had done so when Surya had seen them get winded walking upstairs would forever be a mystery to him.

But they’d all gotten through it, swore themselves to never speak of it again, especially if this were a one off thing, although Dr. Ling took Tabatha’s diving suit in for an upgrade in the off chance this wasn't a fluke.

Which eventually led to Surya standing on his friend’s porch with a pot of lodeh and his old college textbook on dead languages. He let himself look over their garden plots as he waited for the brunet to answer the door, marveling at how much automation they’d managed to set up in such little time. Six plots with small, albeit makeshift, sprinklers with two much larger plots that Tabatha likely had to water by hand themselves, all with little budding plants just waiting to grow and be harvested. Surya was impressed, remembering his Paman Joko mentioning that their neighbor had either already had a hand in farming or at the least had gardened quite a bit before moving here. He mentally took note of the plot with young melon vines just beginning to sprout, wondering if he could convince Tabatha to part with one or two once they were fully ripe, before the door to the cabin swung open.

“Surya! Welcome, welcome, come in watch your step-” Tabatha ushered him inside with a bright smile, quickly shutting the door behind him. “Sorry, don’t want all the cold air getting out.”

“Oh, did your walls not get re-insulated when Bibi and Paman gutted the place?” Surya asked, setting his pot of lodeh onto the rickety fold out table set up in their small living space.

“Oh no I’m sure they did, it’s just a habit from living in shitty Pokyo apartments.”

“Ah.”

Tabatha locked the door, likely another habit from previously living in a crowded metropolitan area, and joined him at the table with an eager grin.

“Thanks for bringing food by the way, I would’ve made something but,” They gesture sheepishly and vaguely to their barebones cabin. “I still don’t have a lot to work with at the moment.”

“Of course, it’s no trouble. Hopefully Bibi can get a kitchen set up for you soon.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The two sat down to eat, exchanging pleasantries and talking about their days apart. Tabatha only volunteered part time at the lab, carving out time for cleaning sights around coral reefs between their farm and also getting used to their new community. Surya would go days without seeing the tall brunet, only for them to show up to the lab soaking wet and with enough kelp to power a small generator, and the two would easily slip back into jokes and banter before disappearing from sight again. It was safe to say that Tabatha was one of the two friends that he had, and he was honestly all the more glad to have them. Soon enough they finished their dinner and tucked away any leftovers in whatever tubberware Tabatha had laying around, finally moving onto the actual reason Surya had come over in the first place.

Teaching themselves a presumably dead language, because Dr. Ling refused to do so.

Because it would be useful! Because you never knew what could happen and what if Surya needed to dive with Tabatha one day and didn’t have a built-in translator? What if the merfolk came to them? It totally wasn't because this was the most unbelievable thing that's ever happened to anyone, ever. Or the fact that Dr. Ling knew way more than she was letting on but wouldn’t tell them.

And it definitely wasn’t because Surya was a man of science and Tabatha was riddled with ADHD and this was their new, shared hyperfixation.

It wasn’t.

Neither of them knew what the language was actually called yet, and Surya hesitated to dub it “Atlantis” due to their location, which spurred Tabatha into giving a surprisingly informed rant about how Atlantis was actually more likely to be based on a mix of a volcanic event in the Mediterranean and Plato spouting bullshit than a real civilization that fell below the waves. It reminded him that Tabatha was a lot more smart than they let on, somewhat downplaying their intelligence for the sake of their self imposed title of ‘Lab Thembo’.

Tabatha retrieved the regulator mask of their diving suit, strapping it into place as Surya began flipping through his old textbook and getting out a fresh, blank notebook. They wouldn’t be able to write down any actual words or an alphabet, as all the pictures they did have of the language were on Kibble’s hard drive and the little robot was sitting in the lab at the moment. But they would write down similar vowels or repeating patterns and also have it for the excuse that this was for science and not shits n giggles, should Dr. Ling happen to stumble upon it.

“Alright, you ready Suri?” Tabatha asked, fitting the regulator over their mouth as Surya gave them the go ahead. The brunet breathed deeply, making sure the gear didn’t interrupt their airways while not attached to any tanks before speaking as clearly as they could.

“Can you hear me?” Their voice cycled through the speaker with a warm crackle, and Surya frowned in disappointment.

“Loud and clear…in English.”

Tabatha grimaced in confusion and removed the regulator, eyebrows lifting into their hairline once they realized that they had forgotten to turn the translator on. Flipping the slider to ‘ON’ the brunet put their gear back into place and Surya eagerly waited to hear the elusive language of real life merfolk.

“What about now?”

The words were strung together in a lilting, rhythmic pattern and it made Surya pause, blinking in surprise at how pretty it sounded. It also almost sounded familiar somehow, his first thought being something akin to Latin or even his own native language. It definitely was different enough for him not to pick it up right away but close enough that it pinged in his brain as something he should recognize.

“Oh wow.”

“Is it working, Surya?”

“No idea what you just said!” He cheered, practically beaming as he scribbled down their first new findings. Tabatha cheered as well, their voice coming out of the translator as a bright, elongated tone akin to a lofty held note in a song.

They sat on Tabatha’s floor for what felt like hours, simply babbling sing-song like words back and forth between themselves. At some point the young man found himself sprawled across the wood floor to stretch out his legs, while Tabatha happily rambled on about something he couldn’t understand, only the occasional word standing out as it went untranslated. Surya recorded some of the basic sentences, sending them to Tabatha’s phone for the two to practice later when the mask started hurting for the brunet to continue wearing. They shook their head after peeling it off, huffing in annoyance as fluffy brown hair fell into their eyes. Surya snorted.

“I need a damn haircut.” Tabatha said, blowing a raspberry at Surya while simultaneously spitting hair out of their mouth. Their eyes then widened for a second, scrambling to their feet in haste and practically running over to their wardrobe. Surya lifted himself off the floor, leaning back on his hands with a laugh at his friend.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

“I got an idea!” They exclaimed, pulling the rest of the diving suit from the sparsely occupied dresser. “Did you bring a swimsuit or anything?”

“Uh, no?” Now sitting cross-legged and watching with a bit of worry as Tabatha ran into their tiny bathroom. “Why?” The plan had just been to see if they could glean anything from the translator and hang out while doing so. The thought of needing his swimming trunks or his own diving suit hadn’t crossed his mind once.

“You’ll see!” Came the muffled reply from the bathroom. A minute or two passed and Surya used the time to pick up the small mess of paper and pens they’d made on the floor. “Alright get in here! Bring the mask too!”

“Uh,” Surya lifted himself from the floor, scooping up the regulator as he did and reluctantly walked over to the bathroom door. “Are you decent?” He felt silly for asking and sillier for the probably obvious flush creeping up his neck.

This was probably why his Bibi Dinda and Paman Joko kept throwing him ‘looks’ every time he went to hang out with Tabatha. The farmer had no time or formality with social cues or implications. It was impulses and ‘I’ll deal with it later’ all the way down with this one.

The door opened and Tabatha’s head poked out from the threshold with a wry grin.

“No, I'm completely naked Suri.” They deadpanned as they spread out an obviously full covered arm from the doorway. Surya threw his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“Be a gentleman somewhere else we don’t have time for that,” Tabatha grabbed the mask from him and disappeared back into the bathroom. “Now. Get. In. Here.”

Surya rolled his eyes fondly and stepped into the bathroom.

He burst out laughing immediately.

Tabatha stood in their small, honestly kind of sad, shower in their full diving suit, sans air tanks, with their hand on the faucet. Surya immediately knew what they were going to do. He’d seen an old college roommate do the same thing to clean his diving suit after accidentally swimming into a cloud of algae.

Tabatha’s eyes crinkled with a tell-tell sign of them grinning, as well as they could, with the regulator covering their mouth and turned the faucet on.

Surya couldn’t fucking breathe.

“W-wha-what are you doing??” He managed to gasp out between bursts of laughter, wiping the tears forming in his eyes at the sight before him. Tabatha shrugged, answering in that sing-song language again that now sounded a little like they were gargling with the shower head on. Surya gasped for air, intermittently broken up by short fits of giggles as he tried to calm himself down. The brunet turned the faucet off and pulled the regulator away from their face, spitting out any stray water that had found its way past the haphazardly put-on mechanism.

“So,” They asked after giving Surya another moment to gasp down air. “Did that sound any different?”

“Is THAT what you were doing?”

“Duh!” The brunet gasped, absentmindedly tossing a hand out and covering Surya’s feet in water. “I remember it sounding different when I was fully submerged.”

“So you got into your shower to test that?”

“...I might’ve only just now remembered that I have a pond…”

“Oh my goddess Tabby,” Surya looked down forlornly at his now wet socks. “Is that why you asked if I brought my swim trunks?”

“...yes.”

“And you immediately got into your shower??”

“YES, SHUT UP!”

Surya was very lucky he was near the door when he started laughing again as Tabatha flung as much water at him as they could. After calming down again and much apologies, the two gathered up some gear and wandered outside to the closest pond on Tabatha's property. The summer evening was warm enough to be comfortable even without a proper wetsuit on, but Surya still lamented that his socks were now uncomfortably squishy. Tabatha offered to hang them out to dry and he declined, deciding that if he stepped on something hard then that was just how it had to be.

With towels, water-proof recording gear, an old pair of swim trunks Tabatha let him barrow and the brunet all put shoving their diver’s goggles over his head, the two sat on the small wooden platform that hung over the nearest pond. Even though it was attached to one of the many streams that ran through Coral Island, they determined that current wouldn’t be strong enough to pull himself or Tabatha in and therefore deemed it safe enough for a little free diving.

Surya let Tabatha fall backwards into the pond first and followed suit when a thumbs up broke the surface. The water was cool against his skin and the pond, while small, was big enough and deep enough that the two of them could stand with only having to squat a little bit. He sat for a moment to enjoy it before Tabatha called over to him with the sing-song language.

“Hello! Fancy seeing you here~” Their eyes crinkled, smiling under the mask as Surya recognized the ‘Hello’ but not the rest.

“Hello!” He replied back clumsily, water filling his mouth briefly. The language carried through the water just as well, if not better, than it did in the air and still with the same pretty, melodic tone. They both resurfaced briefly, Surya to spit the water out of his mouth and Tabatha mostly to gather more air and ask if he was alright before they submerged again.

Once again they swapped words back and forth, practicing simple ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’, ‘how are you’ ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome’ until they could repeat the words without having to think about strange rising and falling of the vowels. Eventually they resurfaced for the last time, as the sun began to fully set and their muscles ached from keeping themselves in place under the water. But they continued without the translator, practicing their tone and pronunciation without the safety net of Dr. Ling’s mysterious handiwork. By the time the two saw fit to finally towel themselves dry and head back to Tabatha’s cabin, it was late and Surya felt fairly confident in his barebones basics of the merfolk language.

“Did you wanna take the rest of the lodeh home with you?”

“No, that's for you! I don’t want my friend starving before they get a kitchen.”

Tabatha huffed a small laugh, wrapping their arms around his middle and squeezing him tightly, butting their head gently against his shoulder. Surya returned the hug, patting them on the back before stepping away and heading towards his Bibi’s and Paman’s home in the forest. He’d return home later than intended with still damp hair, wet socks and borrowed board shorts, staving off Archie’s questions for the next morning and rolling his eyes at another one of his Bibi’s ‘looks’ before heading to his room and collapsing into bed.

He dreams of song-like languages and fish-tailed people below the waves.

#HI PLEASE BE NICE I DON'T WRITE OFTEN AND I DEFFINETLY DON'T SHARE IT SO #ENJOY #coral island #coral island fanfic #coral island surya #coral island farmer #Farmer Tabatha #fanfiction #Raggy's writing

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clocks-are-round · 3 months ago

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completely forgot about this. i don’t think i ever posted it here because i didn’t finish it and proceeded to forget about it. Was written June 23, 2023 at— holy shit. 4:02-6:15AM. Forgot that was when I was at an airport. it’s rough but i think the ideas are still neat. if it turns out i’ve posted this before… whoops *shrugs*

——

pink.

it was so beautiful in all its shades. and donut could name many of them from a young age. he memorized the crayons and the flowers in the garden. fuschia, hot pink, salmon, baby pink, carnations, roses, tulips.

he stopped telling people his favorite color after his dad threw away his costumes and “girly toys” as punishment. his favorite color was red now. at least it wasn’t too far away from his secret favorite.

top secret. secret agents. a secret identity. alter ego. he would be the knight to rescue the princess, but in his mind he would picture being the princess. play the role. act. theatre. pretend. daydream. wish.

donut didn’t want to be a girl he decided one day on the farm while doing his daily chores, though he liked “feminine” things. “sissy” things, his dad would say. he wanted to be the princess not because he wasn’t a prince but because he was tired of only being allowed to do princely things. he wanted to be protected by someone one day not because he couldn’t protect himself but because he didn’t want to always be the strong macho protector he felt people expected him to be. that his dad expected him to be.

—

red.

he sipped from his mug. “the blood of my enemies” was what this one said. the only blood he’d seen on the job was when the intern had a nosebleed in the break room. until now. sarge examined the hefty paper cut. his grandfather sure as hell had worse than this on a good day. he died a hero and his office-working grandson was too chickenshit to follow his glorious warpath. he had a family to support… what if he left and never came back? got caught up in the thrill?

if he put one foot out of his current march he’d have nothing holding him to what he was supposed to do. a stable breadwinner for the fling that turned into a newborn and expectations of a life he never wanted. would she understand? would she pull him closer and constrain him, or encourage him to go? maybe she’d get back that red flush in her dimpled cheeks she had before they settled down into the stagnant life they had. back when she smiled. she’d be the fiery woman he’d gotten stiff for at the school dance so many years ago. and she’d find a life that kept that flame going because the life with him sure as shit wasn’t lighting either of their fires.

were these excuses? should he bother with explanation? he was itching to change his name and start a new life in the stars, fighting in memory of his grandfather. a sergeant, and a hero. he could be too

—

orange.

‘not yellow, orange,’ grif told his sister, who shrugged and said, ‘same thing.’

it really wasn’t. he’d never fault kai, she was colorblind, but they were extremely different.

yellow was the tacky suitcase dad carried in when he got back from one of his ‘business trips.’ and the hot wheels car that looked like it was found in a ditch, all scratched up, because dad spent the family’s money on himself until mom got fed up after one too many loans and kicked him out.

gold was mom’s leotard at the circus. shiny and reflective under her dark beard. it attracted attention, it was her job. she could do better. grif was sure of it. but she was afraid to take a leap out of the comfort of the familiar. she came home at varied hours in varying moods and grif loved her but he was tired. so tired of never knowing what to expect. the most routine he had was school, but the rest of his life was being pulled every which way. so so tired.

orange was the apron in the kitchen. the walls in his and kai’s bedroom, their retreat from the world to rest and hang out. the best sunsets over the ocean that made you forget everything else for a while.

orange was the best parts of life.

yellow.

what even was color? like obviously color was color but like, seemed kind of overrated. kaikaina got by just fine seeing the world in shades of grey, smutty reference absolutely intended. for real though, people were SO OBSESSED with color. thinking of things ‘in black and white’, fucking racism and colorism too, like even rainbows apparently set some people off.

yellow was supposed to be happiness, for some reason. but it was also the ‘icky’ parts of life. yellow made people think of piss, which was gross— unless you’re into that but kai wasn’t although she gave it a try with that one guy from Kentucky— but also so real, y’know? kai liked to look on the positive side of things but also she craved the real. the gritty grossness of being human. passion wasn’t all butterflies and kisses in the moonlight. for her it was going to the edges of her limits, finding new things to love about sex, love, life.

she wasn’t the girl she was in high school. it started as wanting to prove to herself… something. that she was enough or something. but she left that first experience wanting more. wanting to feel every body shape, learn the best ways to have a good time, to connect with people emotionally and physically, one or both, to feel and feel and feel.

yellow was bright. yellow was in your face. yellow was the girl dismissed as frigid and not beautiful enough, but yellow didn’t care because yellow celebrated life.

—

blue.

earth was a blue and green and white marble up there in the sky. blue skies. blue oceans.

blueberries! bluebirds!

blue was out of reach for a long time. special and rare.

blue raspberry slushie for a special field trip!

blue was sadness too. probably to balance out all the happy great things that were blue.

blue was special. caboose loved blue

blue?

it didn’t feel right.

like he was trapped?

yeah of course he fucking felt trapped it was a fucking suit of power armor, no shit.

but taking it off felt… worse? strange.

he didn’t like seeing his face. it felt like he was looking at a completely different person. maybe it was that uhhh imposter syndrome? yeah something like that.

his heart mourned his girlfriend. his rotten bitchy girlfriend that he must love a lot to miss so much. he can’t remember when the last time he saw her blue? brown? eyes and… brown? blond? hair. sometimes it felt like he remembered things in two slightly different ways at once. he wasn’t sure how else to put it.

bluetooth. blue screen.

didn’t feel right. strange. trapped.

blue

it felt right. sure gamma and iota were already… well maybe that was why.

——

I think this was neat so hopefully I’ll get to finishing it sometime. obviously some characters are missing and it could use some polishing up haha

#red vs blue #rvb fic #my fics

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imtryingmybeskar · 2 years ago

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Come Home Chapter Twenty

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4593

You and Joel settle into your relationship, but Ellie's suspicions are high.

I've taken some liberties here with the order of Ellie’s journal.

Come Home

Chapter Twenty - Scene

The days that follow are more full of colour than you ever remember there being in the world. Bright, golden sunlight, skies of the deepest azure, verdant green grasses, delicate white and opulent pink of the cherry blossoms and magnolia trees that erupt in gardens and send their petals cascading through the town like confetti.

Both you and Joel attend to your normal tasks in Jackson – you with your rehabilitation appointments and helping in any way that you can while you’re still hobbled by your shoulder, and he with scouting, building, farming, any number of chores that he is asked to do. While you always enjoyed going beyond the walls of Jackson with him, you now find it a fraught affair when he goes out without you. There is a ball of agonised anxiety that takes root in the pit of your stomach and that doesn’t leave until he inevitably returns, always with reassurances that he’s okay and that there is nothing to worry about. You enjoy watching him at his carpentry far more and he has caught you actively ogling him on more than one occasion. Well, how can you help it when he looks like that? When his biceps curl and strain against his short sleeves as he saws and hammers? When his t shirt darkens at his neck and the small of his back and clings to him as he works? When he stretches up to measure the timber and you get a peek of that beautiful line of hair that stretches downward from his navel?

“We ain’t gonna have to tell folks if you keep on lookin’ at me like that,” he chuckles quietly one evening as you busy yourself in your kitchen making food for the three of you.

“Can’t help it. You look too good,” you say simply as you add salt and pepper to the pot.

“I didn’t say I had a problem with it,” he asserts smoothly as he plants dainty kisses across the nape of your neck, making you shiver and goosepimple before stepping back a respectable distance in case Ellie came charging in without knocking.

She’s doing that a lot these days, and you can’t help but feel like she’s trying to catch you in the act. You’re aware that Joel hasn’t told her what has changed between the two of you, but you can see the suspicion in her eyes when they flit between you when you talk and laugh, and she no longer makes excuses to leave you alone together after your game nights or dinner. So, you and Joel snatch time together whenever you can and the desperation of the stolen kisses between you only serve to ramp up the intensity of your feelings. In the stables, behind the barn, in the clinic after your physiotherapy when he comes to walk you back to your house, and once in the toilets of the Tipsy Bison when you were both…well…tipsy. It’s never gone further than kissing, but the crush of his mouth against yours and the taste of him on your tongue is something you know you could never get tired of.

You understand why he hasn’t said anything to her. This is so new, such untrodden territory and right now you couldn’t even put a name to it to begin talking with Ellie about what was going on. Besides, you felt it was up to him to decide when was right. While you and her were close, she was still his family and you had to believe that he knew what was best for her and for them.

The sling comes off just over two weeks after it went on and you’re overjoyed that you can now not only begin to do things with two hands, but that you can hold Joel close to you properly, something which you do mere minutes after you’ve got rid of the thing and Doctor Graham leaves the room.

“Eager,” he teases gently as he gathers you to him and strokes his hands softly down your back.

“Damn right,” you agree, testing your newfound freedom by hugging him as tightly to you as your shoulder will allow.

Day to day life comes easier after that, though Maria is still reluctant to give you anything too strenuous to work on. Still, you manage to do simple farming chores – watering the plants in the greenhouses, feeding the chickens and collecting their eggs, picking the produce that was ready – and you throw yourself into your tasks, savouring the new freedom of your body and how it is getting stronger.

Ellie, however, is still desperate to rid herself of farming duties. She asks Maria if she can work with Joel for a while instead, and when she agrees he begins teaching her the basics of carpentry. She’s good at it and you love the way you see Joel swell with pride when he can see the physical results of the knowledge he’s imparting. Truth be told, you’re glad she has something to distract her. She definitely knows something is going on, but because no one has been forthcoming with information she has drawn back and become a little more distant than usual. It’s worrying to you, that perhaps she wouldn’t approve of what you and Joel were doing. And that if she really couldn’t stand the idea, you would have to give him up for the sake of their relationship. There would be no other choice, either for you or him, you knew that. But the thought of it caused your heart to clench painfully, imagining seeing him every day but being unable to be as close to him as you wanted to be.

One afternoon after you’ve been to visit Mrs. Drew, who is now becoming less grumpy and more inclined to give you little knick-knacks and presents every time you visit her with groceries and other supplies, you stop by where they are working alongside Tommy. They seem to be building a new chicken coop and the air is thick with the sound of sawing and ringing hammers. You hang back at first, not wanting to disturb them while they’re busy, but as soon as Joel spots you he grins and immediately downs his tools.

“You good?” he asks.

“All fine,” you affirm. “Just wanted to say I’ve got some stew going back home if you’re hungry. Come over if you feel up to it. Or I can bring it to you guys if you’re tired.”

“Well…I am kinda beat today,” says Joel, his smile sliding into something a little more weary. “If you wouldn’t mind…”

“Not at all,” you say softly, and you have to tear your eyes from his face before it becomes too obvious that looking away from him is the last thing you want to do right now. You turn to Ellie with a questioning look instead to see how she feels about having dinner delivered to her, but her eyes are narrowed and not missing a trick. She’s giving you both appraising looks, from one to the other, as if trying to work you out.

“Ellie?” you prompt, trying to sound casual. “You want me to bring your food to your place? Or eat at Joel’s?”

“Whichever,” she says shiftily, and you sigh internally at her abruptness.

“Tommy? You and Maria want in?”

“Ah thanks, but we’ve got plans tonight,” he replies. “But you three should come to ours at some point. Maybe before movie night on Saturday?”

You had completely forgotten that a movie night was on the cards, but found yourself looking forward to it. And you were always happy to reap the benefits of someone else’s cooking.

“Sounds good to me,” says Joel. “Ellie?”

“Yeah. Cool,” she responds ambivalently as she shifts some wood around.

“Well, that’s a plan then,” Tommy confirms.

You depart shortly after, not wanting to arouse Ellie’s suspicions any further than they already were by goggling at Joel while he was trying to work. As the stew is simmering away quite happily on its own and the evening outside is pleasant you decide to do something small to celebrate having both hands at your disposal again. When Mrs. Drew had discovered that you had liked to knit and sew prior to the outbreak, she had insisted that you take a set of needles and some yarn, and also gave you permission to come and use her sewing machine as you saw fit.

The wooden chair on your porch is made more comfortable with the addition of a cushion, and you set a steaming cup of peppermint tea on the table, the fresh leaves harvested from one of the plants that you and Ellie have nurtured between you. Sweet springtime scents of grass and magnolia are carried to you on the warm breeze. Flowers that are starting to flourish in gardens and that bud in window boxes nod along to it, the rustle of leaves a soothing hiss of background noise. A gentle peace permeates the evening. Your fingers are clumsy as first, having not made these subtle movements in such a long time. But before long the muscle memory is revived and you begin to create rows in earnest, vague thoughts of Christmas scarves and hats for Ellie and Joel flitting through your mind.

After a time, distant voices begin to filter through the peace that surrounds you and you smile to yourself as you recognise the sounds of your neighbours making their way home.

“-found all these art supplies,” Ellie is saying. “It was pretty cool.”

“Where did you say this was?” asks Joel.

“Just an old campground,” Ellie says shiftily. “On the edge of Jackson. No one had been in there for a while.”

Though you were still a relative newcomer to Jackson, you didn’t recall there being any kind of place within its walls.

Joel is clearly thinking along the same lines because he begins “I don’t remember seein’-“ before Ellie steamrollers through his sentence and continues talking.

“So Dina went back to get more paper and made me this!”

They emerge into your line of sight, Ellie with a gaudily colourful paper crown on her head, and Joel eyeing her suspiciously. His face clears as he catches sight of you behind her, and Ellie turns to regard you too.

“It’s a good look for the Queen of Jackson,” you smile and are rewarded when she beams back at you. You stand and stretch, rolling your shoulders gently and not missing the way that Joel’s eyes drop to your chest as you puff it out. You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face, and he gives an unabashed grin in return. “You guys ready for some food?”

“God yes, I’m starving,” she says eagerly.

“Jus’ give us some time to wash up,” Joel adds, and Ellie throws her head back with an exaggerated and exasperated groan that he is delaying her mealtime a while longer.

Once back in your kitchen, you spoon a good proportion of the stew into a red ceramic crock pot and place the lid on it before carrying it across to Joel’s house, your shoulder only mildly protesting at the strain it is under.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joel beams once he answers the door, and the term of endearment makes you smile shyly. “Come on in. Let me take that…Jesus! This thing is really fuckin’ heavy! You sure you should be strainin’ that shoulder?”

You grin at his fussing over you.

“Well the doc did say I can do more with it. I need to build up the muscles again before I can think of starting to go back outside, so…” You trail off as you follow him into his house, hoping he understands that you want to get back out there with him as soon as possible.

He places the stew on his stove and you move to the cutlery drawer to begin the process of setting the table.

“Nuh-uh,” he chides softly as he comes up behind you and closes the drawer again. “Ellie’s upstairs takin’ her shower and I feel like I ain’t seen you in days.”

"Joel, you literally saw me twenty minutes ago," you smirk as you turn to him.

"Daaaays," he repeats softly as he cages you with his arms against the counter top and kisses you hungrily. God you were never going to get enough of this. You can feel his desire in the movement of his lips, feel how he’s holding himself back from devouring you, feel the delicious tension in the low rumbling moan that he can’t stop himself from emitting. But his hands are gentle as they slide from the counter to hold you closer, one continuing its path up your back and neck and around your face until it presses delicately against your cheek, cradling your jaw and holding you exactly where you both want you to be. He’s always so gentle with you, even when you cling to each other desperately in the darkness of the barn, even when you know there is so little time that you can steal, there is always a tenderness in his actions.

Sometimes you wish he would be a little rougher.

The thought rises unbidden and it fans the embers that seem to be constantly within you these days to a sudden roar. You press yourself against him more fully, sliding your hands around his hips, up under his shirt and running them over the rippled muscles of his shoulders with careless abandon. The shuddering exhalation that your skin on his elicits from him provokes a near savage feeling somewhere within and your kisses burn hotter, more desperate as you trail your lips over the hair at his jaw, mouthing at his neck as you rake your nails softly down his back.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers fervently. “You…you gotta stop.”

You break away from him immediately, and take in his now slightly dishevelled, panting self, his eyes dark and wild as they look at you, his lips swollen from the bruising kisses you had shared. Did you do that? With a few simple touches of your hands and lips?

“Sorry,” you murmur, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “I just…you’re just-”

“I know,” he says, kissing you chastely and smiling cheekily. “So are you. But I can’t be all riled up just before dinner.”

“Well…it’s a little late for me,” you confess, running your hands through his soft waves.

Before he can respond you hear a door close upstairs. You both look toward the sound and then back at each other, and he plants one last soft kiss on your forehead before sliding his hands back from around your waist. You smile to yourself as you hear Ellie begin to move around upstairs, and you begin to rifle through the cutlery drawer again.

Dinner is a little more uncomfortable than you expected. You’re trying to keep your eyes off Joel as much as possible, certain that at these close quarters Ellie’s scrutiny of your behaviour will reveal something you don’t want it to. Instead you mostly look at her, or down at your plate, and every time you risk a look at Joel he seems to be doing the same thing. In between eating, the three of you talk about what you think will be shown at the movie night, how Ellie is enjoying being away from farming, how you think your shoulder is healing. The usual, pleasantly innocuous conversation you would expect to find at the dinner table and you begin to slide into a more relaxed feeling about the evening.

And that’s when Ellie strikes.

You swear she waits until the precise moment Joel takes a large swig of water before she speaks.

“So…you guys fucking?”

It works. Joel’s eyes bulge comically as he splutters and then spits his water all over the table and his empty plate and begins coughing violently.

“Well, that’s a yes,” she mutters, her eyes dancing gleefully.

“E-Ellie! Christ!” he wheezes between coughs.

“Oh please. You two are so not subtle. And you-" She points at Joel accusingly "-were waaaay too happy that whole trip out to the museum.”

“I was happy…because…I was with you…ungrateful…child!”

“Yeah, but-“

She suddenly looks uncertain and her eyes dart between you and Joel. You look down at your own plate and bite your lip. It wasn’t your place to say anything if Joel wasn’t ready to tell her. In all things concerning Ellie, he would necessarily have to be the one to make final decisions of this kind. It was just how it was. You had no desire to complicate their relationship or insert yourself where you weren’t wanted, nor to take a father from a girl who had already seemingly lost so much. At the same time, she wasn’t stupid and you didn’t want to lie.

You look up again to find Joel looking at you. He’s still clearing his throat, trying valiantly to dislodge the remnants of the water in there. He gives a tiny nod, and you take that as your cue to proceed.

“Not…not fucking, no."

“But you are together?”

“If we were would that be okay?”

Ellie sighs deeply and speaks as if what she’s saying is the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes, dummies. It would be okay. I…I know you were worried about taking him away from me, but I also know that’s not going to happen. I just want this loser-“ she gestures at Joel again “-to be happy. And you make him happy. So…I’m happy. Just don’t be too gross, okay?”

Joel has finally stopped coughing and his smile is deep and radiant as he looks from Ellie to you.

“I think we can manage that,” he murmurs as he slides his hand across the table to capture yours.

“No. See. Gross. What did I just say?” Ellie scolds, but she’s smiling too as she says it.

The relief you feel is immense. Ellie was the one person that you had been truly worried about in this whole situation, but her assurances and the way her eyes had sparkled when she saw how happy Joel was at her words had successfully put those fears to rest. You’re both still careful around her for the rest of the evening – nothing that could be construed as “gross” for a sixteen year old around her father – but he sits a little closer to you than he would normally, allows his hand to rest briefly on the small of your back as you all help to clear the table. Tiny gestures that mean so much because they come from him and because he doesn’t feel the need to hide them any longer.

Only once during the rest of the week does it get awkward. By mutual agreement, you and Joel are still not openly engaging in anything other than friendly interactions publicly. It’s not that you don’t want people to know, more that the perceived weight of the town’s expectation that you would become something more to each other seems too much to deal with right now when everything is so new.

“I like havin’ you, havin’ this all to myself for now,” Joel says succinctly one night on the sofa after Ellie has gone to bed. He leans into you, pressing you down against the cushions and resting his weight on one arm as he lies above you.

You’ve always got me to yourself,” you reply, running your hand over his tensed bicep and feeling those embers flare into sparks in your abdomen. “You seen yourself, Miller? You think I ever even looked at anyone else in this town?”

“Well shucks,” he purrs, exaggerating that Texan twang. “Pretty lady like you givin’ out compliments like that? You’re gonna give me a big head.” He slides his nose over yours softly before leaning in further to kiss you.

“Oh shi-“

Joel scrambles up from his position as if he’s been burned at the sound of Ellie’s horrified, bitten off expletive. You sit up too and whirl toward her far too forcefully, earning yourself a biting jab of pain through your shoulder and arm.

“Sorry,” she says with a grimace, covering her eyes with one hand. “I forgot my Walkman in here.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you echo, mortified beyond belief. “I should go."

“No, no!” she replies, her voice high and taut with her own embarrassment and still with her hand clapped over her eyes as if Medusa herself was in the room. “I should have knocked. My fault.”

“Ellie, you can take your hand away,” Joel says softly, and somehow he seems the most calm of all of you.

She peeks through her fingers, and when she sees you both sitting normally on the sofa breathes a small sigh and does what he says.

“This is still your house,” Joel continues. “And you come and go as you please. Ain’t nothin’ changin’ that. We just maybe gotta set some ground rules for this whole thing.”

“Like…don’t forget your Walkman?” she jokes weakly.

“Like maybe we keep certain things out of communal areas,” he smiles with a meaningful look at you.

“Hey, it’s your house. You guys set the rules here, I’m just a guest,” you babble, holding your hands up in submission.

“Little bit more than a guest at this point,” he murmurs.

“I’m just gonna shout whenever I come in,” Ellie announces as she grabs her Walkman from where it rests on the bookcase. “Waaay easier.”

Movie night is due to begin at seven on the Saturday evening and so just before five you, Joel and Ellie take the short walk through what passes for the suburbia of Jackson over to Maria and Tommy’s. Their house is closer to the centre of town – a modest, three bedroom affair much like your own. The warmth of cooking and the smell of something delicious hits you as soon as Maria answers the door and invites you in.

“We’re having chilli tonight,” she remarks as she gestures for you to sit down on the comfortable looking chairs in her living room. “Tommy insisted on cooking, so don’t blame me if it’s terrible!”

“Excuse me,” Tommy says as he suddenly appears from the kitchen wearing a sauce spattered apron with an invitation to “Kiss the Cook” on it and waving a wooden spoon in a vaguely threatening way. “My cookin’ is sublime!”

“Smores with cheese,” Joel pipes up. “That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“I ran outta marshmallow. And I was six!”

“No excuse for that monstrosity,” grins Joel as Tommy grumbles to himself while returning to the kitchen.

“God, I miss smores,” you sigh.

“What are smores?” Ellie asks.

“Marshmallow, chocolate and graham crackers toasted over a fire. Its so gooey and sweet…I wonder if twenty year old chocolate would really be that bad.”

“I’ll keep my eye out for some,” Joel promises, twinkling at the yearning expression you can feel on your face. His hand lands upon your knee, squeezing it briefly before withdrawing again. Maria doesn’t miss it.

“Glad to see you two have finally made up properly,” she says slyly.

“Yeah well…figured it was about time I got my head outta my ass,” Joel says sheepishly.

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” Tommy says, his voice floating in from the kitchen.

“Don’t make me come in there and shame that chilli,�� Joel fires back, an amused expression on his face. “In fact,” he adds as he stands, “I am gonna go tell him all the things he’s doin’ wrong.” Mild and good natured bickering erupts between the brothers as soon as Joel steps into the kitchen and all three of you roll your eyes at each other and grin.

The chilli is delicious – just the right amount of heat, tender meat, a rich, thick sauce and buttery potato skins on the side. Joel teases that it was his guidance that made the meal so appetising, and you have to stifle your laugher at the outrage on Tommy’s face and in his voice.

After dinner, the five of you stroll into the town centre. People are gathering in the same building that the winter dance was held at, but when you walk in the room looks quite different to before. A projector has been set up at the back of the room, a large white sheet has been affixed to one wall and dozens of chairs have been squeezed in front of it. Children run and squeal as they play, their parents and guardians chatter happily above their noise.

“So what’s on?” you ask Tommy.

“Labyrinth. I was going to go with Indiana Jones, but Maria thought the face melting scene might be a bit too frightenin’ for the littler kids.”

“Ooof, yeah. I remember the first time I saw that. I was ten and it still freaked me out! But David Bowie’s lycra covered crotch should be fine, right?”

Tommy snorts a laugh. “Accordin’ to Maria. Annnd she is the boss.”

He moves away to make the last minute preparations for the evening and Joel takes his place, handing you a bottle of water before opening his own and taking a sip.

“Maybe I should get you some tight lycra pants, Miller,” you say softly so that only he can hear. “Pretty sure you’ve got the goods for them.”

For the second time that week, Joel chokes uncontrollably on his drink. So much so that Ellie looks across from where she’s sat next to a girl with a large and ornate lotus tattooed on her arm before rolling her eyes at the pair of you and resuming her conversation.

“Jesus Christ, woman. What brought that on?” he wheezes.

“Labyrinth,” you say casually, gesturing to the sheet ahead as the lights begin to dim.

Joel moves behind you, slides one big hand around your waist and pulls you tight against him in the darkness.

“Now you just settle down and behave,” he commands in a husky voice that you’re almost sure has nothing to do with the water he inhaled and that gives you a pleasant tingling shiver all up your spine. “Or I’ll have to stop givin’ you the one thing I know you want from me.”

You tip your head back so you’re face to face with him but upside down.

“Your cooking?” you ask, innocently.

“Damn straight,” he growls menacingly, his eyes twinkling and kind in the semi darkness. And then, so naturally you think he must have forgotten how public a place you’re both in, he kisses you. A soft, brief, chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless and when you tip your head the right way again he pulls you even tighter against him and you lace your fingers with him as they rest against your stomach. You settle against him, tuck your head comfortably against the crook of his neck and he kisses you again, this time on top of your head. You can see more than a few people glancing your way, most with small smiles on their faces, some looking a little sullen. This was it then. You and Joel together in public as a couple, no more secrecy or hiding. You can’t deny the rush of warmth that fills you, nor the dopey smile you know is stretched across your face. It feels too good to let people know. That he is yours and you are his.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle @ohthemisssery @harperdoodle @hummelmi @casssiopeia @midgetpottermills @rivierasunsetdiner

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou x you #joel tlou x f!reader #joel tlou x female reader #joel tlou fanfiction #joel tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

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freetobeeyouandme · 10 months ago

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Chapter 2: At Least the "Prophecy" Comes With a Free Sword

The next chapter of my Byler Isekai AU is now up on Ao3! Mike meets the rest of the gang, has an audience with the village kook, and learns how to get home...sort of.

Tags: M, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Fantasy AU, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Horror, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

Summary:

Mike Wheeler hates High School, so when he almost dies and falls through a portal to another world, he’s not going to complain. Especially not when that world does not only have swords and magic but seems to work exactly according to the rules of his favorite tabletop role-playing game. But his euphoria might be short lived because the party of adventurers he falls in with turns out to be the target of an evil god and the fate of the world might rest on their shoulders. So, exactly like his games of D&D. Except the wanna-be Paladin soon realizes that being a hero is much harder in real life than it is in-game. - Or, Mike gets isekai’d into a world where D&D is real.

An excerpt and taglist below the cut:

Excerpt:

The group’s worry about his appearance feels a little overstated as they make their way down to the village, avoiding the main road in favor of a beaten path through the fields, and then don’t even really enter the village. Will’s parents’ cottage sits at the outskirts of the town, not as far away as the farms but still not nestled close to the other houses. Behind it there is only a large backyard, fenced in with wooden poles that have seen better days, and then only fields and trees. A little herb garden sits beside it and a large oak tree with a little weathered swing, rocking happily in the breeze, sits out front.

As they reach the front door, Will takes the lead.

The door opens on the smell of something hearty and savory – stew, Mike thinks, although he can’t place the type – and a warm voice calling out: “Hi, sweetheart. You guys are back early.”

Will steps inside, holding the door for the rest of them. El slips in past him, tearing off her cloak as she does. The others gesture for Mike to follow, so he does, even though the thought of meeting even more new people has him feel suddenly very tired. Part of him wishes the party was on the road on their own and he just had to contend with them at a camp fire. The other part of him misses his mother and wants some warm food to comfort him.

The layout of the house seems to be as simple as its exterior. The entrance opens into a big room with a kitchen in the back, a dining table almost in the entry, and a couple armchairs and a couch in front of a fireplace to the far side. A hallway branches of right beside the kitchen, leading towards the back of the house. In the kitchen stands a blue-scaled Dragonborn woman with her back to them, stirring stew in a large cauldron over an open fire. Another Dragonborn, this one with purple scales like Will, hunches over the table, writing something.

He dips his quill into the ink before him, briefly glancing up as they enter, then at his paper and then, with his hand frozen above the page, looks back up at the group in the doorway with wide eyes trained on Mike.

And Mike understands the feeling.

“I’m guessing your meeting didn’t-” the Dragonborn woman begins and breaks off as she similarly turns to the group and counts one more among them than had left the house.

Will, without preamble, grabs the hood at the back of Mike’s head and pulls it free to reveal his face.

El takes no note of the way the mood perceptibly shifts from warm to something…not quite less welcoming but certainly more tense. She drapes her cloak over one of the free chairs and makes her way beside the Dragonborn woman, sniffing the stew. “Smells good.”

The woman smiles at her, brushing her short hair affectionately with a claw-tipped hand, and says: “I just put it on, so you’ll have to wait until later.” A little less affectionately she nods at Mike: “Who is he?”

El shrugs. “Human. Is Hop still out back?”

The woman sighs. “Yes, your father’s still out back. Where did you find a human?”

At the mention of El’s elusive father Mike tenses, remembering Lucas asking him about some capital ‘F’ father earlier. He hopes it’s not the same guy. The Eleventh of the Circle and the Crown Prince seem like enough main characters to meet in one day. He really doesn’t have to add the Father, whoever he is,to the list.

Beside him, Will steps forward, gesturing towards Mike. “Mom, Jonathan, this is Mike, he fell through a portal by accident. Mike, this is my brother, Jonathan, and my mother.”

Mike feels a little awkward as he waves. “Hi.”

Jonathan rises to his feet, waves equally awkwardly, and then disappears towards the back of the house.

Will’s mother crosses the room and offers Mike her hand. She clasps his warmly and it’s almost not strange even though her skin feels as leathery and cold as her son’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Mike.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs., uh-”

“Byers,” she replies. She squeezes his hand before moving on towards her son. Placing a hand on top of his head the way she had just done with El, she says: “Your father won’t be pleased to hear this, though. We had a visitor just after you left, and well…”

She doesn’t elaborate, but she doesn’t have to. As the party behind Mike spreads out, hanging up their cloaks and beginning to loiter around the room, a door slams at the back of the house and then someone complains, loudly: “No, no, no. No, no, no, no!”

Jonathan returns first, taking a place against the back wall. “Hope you guys have figured out who to blame for this already,” he says. It sounds like a joke.

Mike hopes it’s a joke.

Unofficial Tag List (aka you interacted with my snippet posts, please tell me if you want me to not tag you in the future (or want to be added)): @smalltownwheeler @wheelerpilled @wrong-energy @willthelies @foodiewithdahoodie @doggo9 @gardenfairie @beelikesbyler @beverlysclown @yickarus @sourdough-el @hessolivagant @hesquietoday @oldfashionedmorphine @total-serene560 @bylersrise @hawkinsunderground @longtallglasses @generalstorecashier @usnaavi @camel-casing @bylersbear01

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #kingslayer fic

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i-can-even-burn-salad · 1 year ago

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Epilogue

Glass Shards

Warnings: None! :)

Wrapping up some loose ends. They deserve it!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Merridy picked up a card, frowning at it. The sparrow was red, and just last turn, she had decided to try for a black hand. With a sigh, she threw her cards on the table, face down.

“I’m out,” she declared.

Taking her glass and sipping on her apple juice, she watched the other three at the table. Cedric, his husband Yvan, and their friend Laurent—just like in old times. And just like in old times, Laurent was clearly winning.

Cedric lifted his own glass, the amber liquid inside definitely no juice.

“So you bought a house?” he asked, picking up the conversation where they had left off before her turn.

“You should see it! It’s wonderful, with a garden and all.” Merridy gestured broadly, as if she could convey the size of her new home that way. “With a few fruit trees, and berry bushes and— it’s too late this year, but next year I’m going to plant beans and potatoes and—”

“Look at our little farm girl,” Laurent interrupted her.

Merridy kicked him under the table.

“And who did you have to rob to afford that?” Cedric asked, ignoring Laurent.

“What do you think I am? A thief?” Merridy grinned as Laurent snorted into his drink. “It was an inheritance. Kind of. They sold their childhood home. Or rather, Valadan did. Damien can’t exactly go back to Caldeia, being a wanted criminal and all.” In this round, it was easy to joke about it. Not so much when Damien lay awake at night, and she had to reassure him he wasn’t putting her in danger just by being close to her. “Valadan gave us the money, because they don’t really need it.”

Cedric laughed. “I bet they don’t. The Lightwoods.” He drummed his fingers against the glass, pointing into the approximate direction of the house she had broken into to find Valadan’s location. “Filthy rich, but not pompous. Old money. Not honestly earned as the likes of us.” He winked.

When Yvan put down his hand as well, backing out, it was only Cedric and Laurent left. They made their bet, showed their cards—and of course, Laurent won.

“And what are you doing now that you’ve become such a law-abiding citizen?” he asked while shuffling the cards for the next round. Merridy stuck her tongue out at him.

“I started learning under a local seamstress, and Damien got all his tools and materials from his old workshop. It’s not easy for him to use them”—she lifted her left hand—“but he’s been working with Valadan to make some adjustments and create new tools. For the kitchen as well, because Damien loves to cook.”

“His brother is helping him?” Yvan asked, apparently more interested in the mention of craftsmanship than the cards he picked up without looking.

“Yeah. He’s a carpenter. Whatever furniture we couldn’t bring from their old house, he built for us. I even got a rocking chair now.” She rocked back and forth on her chair.

“I take my words back.” Laurent shoved her cards in front of her. “You’re an old farm lady.”

This time, she kicked him hard enough he made a noise. Cedric only shook his head.

A couple of rounds later, when everyone but Laurent was running low on coins, they decided to call it quits. Merridy helped Yvan bring the used glasses into the kitchen, casting a quizzical look at Laurent and Cedric, whispering in a corner.

“You can have a proper bed tonight,” Yvan called out to her, grabbing her attention. “We turned the study into a guest room. At least mostly. After you left, Cedric finally hired someone to deal with all the boring paperwork—his words, not mine—and transferred the unsorted stock into a warehouse.”

“Not going back to dealing with that shit himself, huh?” she muttered, handing Yvan the glasses.

Yvan laughed. “Do you miss it?” he asked over the sound of flowing water. “Any of this. Legal or illegal.”

Merridy grabbed a kitchen towel off the hook and took the first washed glass from him. “Sometimes. It was…” She polished the glass more thoroughly than needed. “It was a good time, and I don’t regret any of it. But I wouldn’t want to return to it. Laurent is right. I’ve turned into an old farm lady, happy to sit in front of her fireplace with a good book.”

“You do look happy.”

Merridy smiled.

“Don’t tell me I’m right or you’ll never hear the end of it.” Laurent stood in the doorway, grinning. “I’m gonna leave, so…” He opened his arms. “Good night?”

With a laugh, Merridy went over to him, giving him a hug. “Wouldn’t want to inflate your ego too much. Good night.”

“Come back soon.”

Perhaps she would. Josephine had offered to make it possible for her to use the Citadel’s portal whenever she wanted, and now that she had taken her up on it, she realized how much she had missed her friends.

“If you promise me my favorite candy,” she said.

Laurent laughed, waving over his shoulder as he turned around to leave. Merridy yawned. It must be close to midnight—or past it, even. Luckily, she didn’t have to be up early. The portal back was booked for noon. She picked up the towel, but Yvan shooed her away.

“I can handle two glasses. Go to bed.”

“All right. Good night.”

She hugged him too, before leaving the kitchen, grabbing her bag to follow Cedric up the stairs. The room he led her into was familiar to her, even after all this time. Where once a pile of crates and boxes had been, now a narrow bed stood, the pillows and blankets a deep purple. Merridy looked around; at the bookshelves, filled with dusty old volumes, and the velvety curtains, and the finest stationery next to the jewel-encrusted letter opener on the desk. Perhaps Josephine’s family was filthy rich, but Cedric definitely wasn’t poor, either.

“Need anything?” he asked.

“No. Thank you.”

“Good night.”

Merridy smiled. “Good night.”

She waited for him close the door before she went to the glowing crystal mounted next to it, dimming it until only the outlines of the furniture were visible. It was enough to find her way to the bed, sitting down on it and stroking the blanket. It was just as soft as it looked. With a sigh, Merridy slipped under it, pulling it up to her chin.

“Hey. Sleepyhead.”

Persistent pounding on the door jerked Merridy awake. The room was bathed in a dim, reddish light, a single sun ray poking through the curtains. She stretched sleepily, watching the dust dance in the air. It couldn’t be that late, could it?

“If you don’t get up, you’re not getting any breakfast, because Yvan’s about to leave.”

It was that late.

“Coming,” she shouted, sounding much more awake than she was.

She hastily made the bed and put her shoes back on, before she took her bag and left the room. Cedric was waiting for her, walking with her to the stairs. He must have been up for a while already, his clothes as impeccable as always, but he didn’t say anything, the tapping of his cane the only noise. Merridy grinned. He was not a morning person.

“Ah. Merry,” Yvan greeted her when she entered the kitchen. He turned around, grabbing a cup and handing it to her. “Your tea.”

While Merridy inhaled the sweet scent of herbs and honey, Cedric got himself a cup of coffee.

“I have to go. Delivery at the forge in…” Yvan looked around, as if the kitchen walls could tell him the exact time of day. “About now, I guess, so gotta hurry. Here.” He put a plate down in front of her, a masterfully crafted sandwich on it.

Merridy put the cup down, so she could wrap her arms around Yvan. “Thank you. I promise, I’ll try to come back soon.”

While Yvan and Cedric said goodbye, Merridy sat down, investigating her sandwich. To her delight, she found little slices of radishes under a lettuce leaf, sitting on top of a layer of cream cheese and cucumber. Cedric sat down on the other side of the table, sipping his coffee while she ate.

“Are you awake enough to talk?” he asked.

Merridy nodded, swallowing down the bite she had just taken.

“You said there was an… incident when you arrived,” Cedric said. His raised eyebrows told Merridy that he didn’t quite believe her softened version of events. “Are you sure it’s safe for you in Nimrisé when those men recognized Damien?”

“Valadan tore them a new one. Told them Damien is his half-brother, and they couldn’t go around trying to kill people just for looking like him. Something about their father having had an affair.”

“Damien went along with it?”

“Yeah. He hides his missing arm with an illusion, took on a fake name and all.” Merridy grinned. “He’s Jonathan Whitley now.”

“Whitley, hm? Are you actually…”

Merridy lowered her gaze to her cup. “No.” Then, after a moment, “It’s not like we could.”

Making their partnership legally known was not something that was ever going to be possible. Damien had to stay hidden. Any paperwork regarding the house was in her name, she the only one who could visit Caldeia. The story of the elusive half-brother was only going to get them so far.

Silence settled between them. Merridy was glad Cedric didn’t ask her if she’d want to. She didn’t want to have to find an answer to that.

“He wants to stay near his brother.” Merridy pushed around the rest of her sandwich. “He… they need each other. We’re cautious, but we can’t keep running.”

Cedric nodded. “For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone noncommittal, “I don’t think they’re looking for him anymore. Which brings me to the next point.” He took something out of his pocket, holding it out to her. “I’m keeping an eye on the state of things here, and you’re gonna need a way for me to contact you.”

Merridy trailed her finger over the rough surface. Even before she turned the object around, she knew what she would find—a hollow where the stone had been split, a cluster of amethyst lining the inside. One half of a geode; not just any geode, but the one she had left behind. She raised her gaze.

“If I break it in half it means…”

“Danger,” Merridy finished his sentence.

“Danger for him,” Cedric corrected her. “If I break it in quarters, it’s danger for the two of you.”

Merridy closed her hand around the geode. “Thank you.”

She slipped the geode into her pocket, before she picked up her cup again. The tea was barely lukewarm anymore, but it warmed her all the same.

“I should be going soon,” she said once her cup was empty and her sandwich gone. She brought her dishes to the sink and started rinsing them off. “It was the first time I took a private portal”—as if anyone not in the Order of Fire could afford one!—”and the attendant didn’t look like they were the most patient person alive.”

Cedric made a snide noise. “Don’t worry, they’re paid well enough for it. The hour after noon is reserved for a reason. Which means I have enough time to show you the music box I got with my latest shipment.” He got up, pointing at one of the display cases lining the wall. “Over there.”

The music box turned out to be not quite to Merridy’s taste. A couple turning in deep embrace to the metallic sound of a song she had heard once or twice when watching a marriage ceremony in one of the parks. The ornamental woodwork was rather pretty, but all things considered, she had no idea why Cedric would think she’d be interested in it. He didn’t elaborate.

Several minutes and mundane trinkets later, Merridy realized that Cedric was stalling for time. Just as she was wondering whether she should confront him about it or just insist on leaving, a knock on the door sounded. Cedric put down the ugly blue vase he had showed her and picked up his cane.

“I’ll get it,” he said, sounding way too cheerful.

Merridy watched him cross the living room and vanish into the small hallway leading to the front door. He greeted someone, and the voice answering was a familiar one.

“Laurent?” she called.

“I went to half a dozen— oh hey, Merry. You’re still here?”

He didn’t even try to sound inconspicuous. Something was definitely up. With her arms crossed, Merridy eyed the two men as they entered the room. Cedric was the first to speak up.

“I asked him to find one for me, since, you know, you told me you lost yours.”

Merridy stared at the object he held out to her. A small book—a children’s book—with a colorful cover showing a smiling sheep with a pink bow on its head. One of the very few she had kept, only to lose it to the bandits’ attack. She didn’t dare to reach for it.

“Why?” she asked, blinking in an attempt to ward off the burning in her eyes. “I’m no longer—”

“Nonsense,” Cedric interrupted her. “You’ll always be a part of us.”

Every member of Cedric’s circle had their own book to be used with a cipher, to make sure no messages could be intercepted. She had rarely ever used it, and now that she wasn’t working for Cedric anymore, she wouldn’t have to.

Still, he offered it to her, not moving until she took the book from him. Book in hand, Merridy hugged him tightly. Perhaps she hadn’t found her family by coming to Caldeia, but she had found a family.

The moment Merridy let go of Cedric, Laurent called out to her.

“Hey.”

She turned around, at the last moment catching a small bag he threw to her.

“Bribery,” he explained.

Merridy pinned the book under her arm, so she could untie the bag and peer into it. It was filled to the brim with round, deep red candies. She couldn’t resist popping one of them into her mouth before closing the bag, grinning at the delicious taste of sugary cherry.

“Now let’s get you to your portal,” Cedric said as he grabbed his coat from the rack.

Stepping from the sunny palace garden Caldeia’s into the dimly lit hall of the citadel sent a shiver down Merridy’s spine. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself as the shimmering portal flickered out of existence behind her.

She was still so giddy from her visit, she managed to keep her face from falling when she spotted Valadan standing at the end of the ramp. Merridy couldn’t help the feeling of unease that still lingered when she was around him, but at least rationally she had come to like him. Absentmindedly, she stroked the spot where the scar on her chest was, hidden under the strap of her backpack. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and even less to almost kill her. He had tried his best to make it up to her. And most of all, he hadn’t acted out of hate, but out of fear.

Neither of these thoughts kept her from stopping two steps away from him, only greeting him with a nod.

“Josephine couldn’t make it,” he said in the way of greeting. Whether he kept his words short because of the portal attendants or her, she couldn’t tell.

She followed Valadan through the confusing hallways of the citadel and down the path to Nimrisé. He accompanied her all the way to her house, and although Merridy thought that was unnecessary, she didn’t say anything.

It was kind of nice of him.

“Tell my brother I’ll be over tomorrow to look at the oven door,” he said, breaking the awkward silence between them.

He didn’t dare to use Damien’s real name in public, and barely used his fake name. Perhaps there was something cathartic about calling him his brother as well; about having him back after such a long time.

“I almost forgot.” Merridy slid her backpack off her back and reached in, pulling out a small, wrapped bundle. “For Josephine.”

Valadan took it, careful not to step any closer than absolutely necessary.

“Thanks.”

He nodded and turned around. Before he had reached the garden door, Merridy was already running along the path to the back of the house.

“I’m back!” she called as she threw the door open.

Damien looked up, a smile spreading over his face. He stood at the counter, kneading a ball of dough, flour dusted on his hair and clothes. When Merridy dropped her backpack to the floor, he quickly wiped his hand on his pants, to catch her as she tackled him.

“I missed you.”

Damien laughed. “It’s only been a day.” Despite his words, he held her tightly, taking a deep, relieved breath.

Merridy closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest. She hadn’t truly been worried, but she felt calmer when he was around. That was only fair, she thought, after all the times she had almost lost him.

“Let’s bring your stuff up?” Damien eventually suggested.

Merridy grabbed her backpack off the floor, without taking her other hand off him. Together, they walked up the stairs, turning to the left towards her room. As every time when she stepped into it, her heart seemed to skip a beat. It was just so perfect, she couldn’t believe it was truly hers.

In the center of the room, with the head end against a wall, stood her bed, covered in pillows and blankets. As every other piece of fabric—the curtains and the rugs and the cushion on the rocking chair—they were creme white and purple. The furniture was matching, made from plain, light wood, not yet darkened by age.

A chest stood at the foot of the bed, a small desk with a chair in one corner of the room. The shelf between the two windows held bits and trinkets, while the one next to the bed was empty save for a few books. Merridy walked towards it, pulling the book Cedric had given her out of her bag to place it among the others.

When she turned around, colorful sparkles in the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. Merridy’s gaze flicked towards the window. A wind chime hung there, made from colorful glass shards, arranged like a rainbow; from crimson red and bright yellow, over vibrant green and blue to the deepest purple.

When she went closer to get a better look, Damien stepped next to her. He put his arm around her as she reached for one of the shards, brushing her finger over the polished edge.

“I asked…” He swallowed. “I asked Valadan to bring the shards of the pieces I smashed. Of the pieces I thought weren’t good enough. Worthless.”

He turned towards her, raising his hand to her cheek.

“I felt the same. Worthless. Broken. Never good enough. But you picked me up, and you turned me into someone new.” He smiled, a shimmer in his eyes. “So I took the shards. And I turned them into something new. Something to remind you how much I love you. Here… this. With you, and Valadan, and— I’d never thought it would ever be possible, but I’m happy.”

His smile turned wistful. She knew happiness didn’t help against the pain, couldn’t take away the nightmares—but it was a start.

“But are you?” he asked after a moment, a hint of uncertainty on his face. “Happy, I mean. Is this how you imagined it?”

Merridy looked from the airy, creme white curtains to the shimmering glass shards, and out the window, where in the distance the ocean sparkled in the sun. She raised her gaze to Damien, the purple gleam of his eyes fixed on her as if nothing else mattered.

“No,” she whispered. “It’s better.”

This chapter is my personal gift, from me to myself on this wonderful day. 132k words, just to arrive at this scene which I commissioned last year from @antisocialxconstruct :D

That's it. Now I'm truly happy with the end.

For those who have only read Glass Shards, a note:

Nuisance - Merridy's backstory, about how she met Cedric.

Undeserved - Damien's backstory, between his childhood, his time with the rebels and after getting caught.

Two Yeas Later - A single piece in the gap between Glass Shards and Fancy Boots. Was the epilogue of Undeserved before Glass Shards existed, which is why it is linked here as "next".

Fancy Boots - Direct continuation of Glass Shards, with recurring characters and themes of Undeserved.

Heal my Wounds - Valadan's and Josephine's story.

[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

@dont-touch-my-soup @starrysky-whumpfics @kixngiggles @starlit-hopes-and-dream @honeycollectswhump

#Glass Shards #whump #fantasy whump #not a Wednesday :)#my writing

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dragon-kazansky · 2 years ago

Text

His Little Dragon

Doc Holliday x OC

Dedicated to @callsignscupcake

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Doctor John Holliday hasn't seen his darling Little Dragon for many years. Once as thick as thieves, they were quite the pair, but that long since ended when he left. Now, with opportunity blooming in Tombstone, it would seem they have a second chance at the love they lost. However, a threat looms over the town, and if he wants his Dragon back, he has to win the heart of little Baylie too. Nothing is ever easy.

Word count: 2.1k

Chapter Thirty - Empty chairs at empty tables

♡♡♡

It's all far too quiet. Rachael lies on the bed facing the window. Doc left barely 30 minutes ago. Never before has she felt this level of loneliness.

Alana had seen to it she got in bed, but when she realised Rachael wasn't going to respond to her, she let her be. Rachael was somewhat grateful for the peace.

Her heart was aching. Aching for her family to come back safe. She trusted John Holliday more than anyone she knew. He would bring Baylie back safe and sound. She believed he would.

She needed him to.

Rachael hides her face into her pillow. She felt so alone. She should be out there with him getting their daughter back.

Rachael isn't sure how much time passes, but Alana knocks on the door at some point. She pushes the door open delicately, peeking into the room.

"I made some stew. It's not much... but I thought maybe you would like some."

Alana receives no response. She sighs softly.

"I can't imagine what you're feeling. My husband is out there with that girl, so I only know a portion of your pain, but I can't imagine posing a daughter too. There isn't much I can offer you, but my house is your house for as long as you're here. If you need anything, just ask. I have faith they'll return soon," she says. Alana watches Rachael for a moment longer before stepping back. Before she can close the door, she hears the bed creak slightly. Rachael rises.

"Stew sounds lovely."

Alana smiles and let's Rachael follow her out into the dining room. While she sees to the stew, Rachael sits down at the table. The table is big enough for 8 people, but it looks so empty.

They are the only two people in this house.

She was sitting here not too long ago with her heart pouring out and Doc at her side. Now he was gone too. Rachael closes her eyes and tries to forget about it for now, but she can't.

"Damn it," she mutters.

Alana puts a bowl of stew down in front of Rachael. She takes the seat beside her and stares at the table. There is nothing she can say to make things better.

Rachael takes a mouthful of the stew and nods her head.

"It's good."

Alana lifts her gaze to the other woman.

"You don't have to eat it."

Rachael takes another mouthful.

"I want to. Thank you."

Alana smiles and plays with her hands. Rachael eats everything in her bowl and then goes to wash up, but Alana is quick to take the bowl from her. She smiles as she goes to the kitchen to clean up herself.

Rachael sighs and looks around the house.

It's very homely. A couple photos of Alana and a handsome young man are on display. The house looks well looked after and even the ranch outside had a lot of love and care out into it.

Rachael stood there looking at this home wondering if in the near future she could have something like this. Land to look after, a house to call home, a place for Baylie to grow. A place to share with John.

She wanted all of it.

"The best way to wait is to keep busy. Do you want to help me out?" Alana asks.

Rachael looks at her and nods softly.

Both women go outside. Alana starts to tell Rachael all about the land and how they came to own it. She points out the stable and the barn. There's a pretty looking well on the grounds. A little farm is thriving off to the left of the house.

Rachael is blown away with what she sees. She could imagine Baylie running up to the stable to go see Whiskey. John working on the land. Having her own garden to grow flowers and vegetables.

It feels like a far away dream.

Alana was right though. Working on the ranch together helped ease her worries for a while. They cared for the horses left on the ranch, fed the animals, tended to the farm. Rachael helped move things across the grounds.

The two then went inside to eat together once again. The sun was setting and the day was drawing to a close.

Yet, Doc and Baylie still remained absent from the house.

Rachael and Alana took to sitting out on the desk outside. They were wrapped up in blankets as they watched the hill. It was dark, but they would still be able to see if anyone came over the hilltop.

Rachael hoped she would see someone.

"Your gentleman friend seemed very brave," Alana said.

Rachael smiles softly. "He is. I owe him so much."

"That's how I feel about my Jake. He's the best damn thing to ever happen to be. None of this would have been possible without him."

"You have what I want. But I can only have it if my family come back safely to me."

Alana reaches out and takes her hand.

"They will. Have faith."

Rachael closes her eyes and leans her against Alana's shoulder. She gives Alana's hand a squeeze. She needs something to hold onto. Something to keep her grounded.

The two sit in silence listening to the night.

Rachael is almost dozing off when the faint sound of horses has her lifting her head. She looks up to see several people coming over the hill. Rachael stands to try and work out if they were good or bad news.

"Rachael!"

That's Wyatt's voice.

Rachael discards the blanket from around her shoulders and rushes off the desk. Alana leans against the bannister of her deck to watch Rachael.

"Wyatt!"

Wyatt jumps off his horse and catches Rachael, stopping her from falling over as she collides with him. She's happy to see a familiar face and then looks up amongst the horses to look for her love.

"Doc?"

Two men shuffle past the horses with Doc in their hold. John's head is bowed forward, but he's awake. He's just in a lot of pain.

"John!"

Wyatt stops Rachael from rushing over to him. She struggles against his hold.

"John! Oh my God, John!"

"Rachael, look at me," Wyatt says. "He was shot, but he'll be okay."

Alana ushers the two men to bring Doc into her home. Rachael fights with Wyatt to go over to him, but Wyatt's hold on her is unrelenting.

"John!!" She yells again.

Her knees give out and she sinks to the ground with Wyatt.

"What happened?" She asks.

"Some kid. We were getting answers out of him. We were going to look into the information he gave us, but as soon as we got back onto our horses he shot Doc."

"Is he... is he going to be okay?"

Wyatt doesn't answer.

Rachael can feel her heart breaking all the more. She's not sure how much more she can take of this.

"John..."

Alana guides them into the spare bedroom she has given to you. She has the two men lay him gently on top of it and then has them leave. She fetches her things. She's no doctor, but she is confident she can help this man.

Doc is sweating fiercely. There's no exit wound so the bullet is still embedded in his shoulder. He watches Alana through a fuzzy gaze.

Pain. He can only feel pain.

"Rachael... where is my Rachael...?" He hisses out.

Alana doesn't answer him.

"Rachael..."

Wyatt takes Rachael into the house. He takes her to the sofa to sit down, but she tries to get up. He pushes her back down.

"I need to see him," she says.

"He needs seeing to. Let our host see to him," Wyatt tells her.

"John, oh John."

Wyatt sits with her. She clings to him. Doc was hurt and she couldn't be with him.

"Rachael!"

She hears him call for her.

"Wyatt-"

"Go."

Wyatt released his hold on her. He thinks it would better if she stayed here, but hearing Holliday call for her, well, he couldn't deprive Doc of that. Rachael thanks Wyatt and hurries into the bedroom.

Doc has been undressed from the waist up. Alana is trying to get him to lie still so she can dig out the bullet.

Rachael enters the bedroom and rushes to his side. Doc looks relieved when he sees her. He reaches out with his good arm and she takes his hand. Rachael sits on the bed with his hand in her lap.

"I'm here, John. I'm here."

She runs her free hand through his damp hair. She leans over him a little, looking at his face.

"Keep him still. I have to get the bullet out," Alana says.

Rachael doesn't say anything. She just keeps a tight hold of his hand and continues to run her fingers through his hair.

"I'm here," she whispers.

"I love you," he hisses out softly.

"I know. I love you too, darlin'." Rachael smiles softly at him.

Alana doesn't waste another second and searches for the bullet. Doc hisses out in pain and squeezes Rachael's hand tightly. Rachael leans down and presses her lips to his forehead.

"You're going to be okay."

Alana can only be so gentle, and she knows it's hurting him, but something tells her that with Rachael present, Doc is going to get through this just fine.

A couple hours later, Doc is stitched up and Alana leaves the room with the bullet she had dug out of his shoulder. He's exhausted. Rachael stays in the room with him.

Alana had closed the bedroom door behind her as she left.

Rachael lays on her side, Doc's good side, and watches him. He's still awake, but fighting to be. His body clearly wants to sleep for the night.

Rachael brushes his hair back slowly. The motion of it soothing him.

"Sleep, John," she whispers.

"Not yet," he mutters.

She watches his face. He's staring up at the ceiling.

"I didn't find Baylie."

"No, but we will."

John turns his head toward her, gazing at her with glossy eyes. He blinks softly.

"Marry me?"

Rachael lifts her head up from his pillow.

"What?"

"Marry me."

She stares at him, wide eyed. He's delusional, totally out of it. He's not thinking straight.

"John..."

"My inside pocket. Go into my inside pocket," he tells her.

Rachael glances at his coat which had been stripped from him hours ago. He stares at her. She leans over and takes the coat, heart hammering in her chest. She takes her time to find his inside pocket and slide her hand into it.

Her fingers meet with something small and cold. She bites the inside of her cheek gently as she pulls the item out and then drops it into her palm.

A ring.

The exact ring he had shown Baylie.

Rachael lifts her eyes from the ring and looks up at Doc. He's laying there, sweating and breathing gently. His eyes have softened.

"Marry me."

For the first time that day Rachael cries happy tears. She leans over and presses sher head against his chest. She laughs softly. Doc lifts his good arm and places his hand on the back of her head. The hand on his injured side seeks out the ring from her hand.

"Look at me, darlin'."

Rachael lifts her head and looks up at him. She can't hide her smile.

"Your hand, my darlin' little Dragon," he grins at her.

Rachael lifts her left hand to him. Doc takes the ring and puts it on her slowly. She watches it slide over her finger. Doc drops his hand onto his stomach when it's on. Rachael looks at her hand.

"Mrs Rachael Holliday. Now that sounds nice," he says, voice quiet.

Rachael looks up at him.

"Sleep," is all she says to him.

Holliday smiles and closes his eyes. He can't fight it any more, he needs to rest.

Rachael chuckles and wipes the tears from her eyes. She looks down at her hand again and laughs.

"You silly romantic fool," she mutters.

Rachael holds her hands close to her chest as she lays beside him again. If anyone could give her hope, it was John Holliday.

They'd be a real family.

All they needed was Baylie.

♡♡♡

@bayisdying - @callsignscupcake - @mrsjaderogers - @cycbaby - @gracespicybradshaw @altierirose - @askmarinaandothers - @themusingofagothicsoul - @gizmodear - @beaner-life-23 - @luckyladycreator2 - @scissorhandsgirl2000 - @mclintocksdaughter - @ice-doc-val -

#doc holliday x rachael #doc holliday x dragon #doc holliday x oc #doc holliday #tombstone 1993 #his little dragon

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figgiforever · 1 year ago

Text

My first story set in Figgiverse is ready! 🎉🎉🎉

I decided to post it here because it wouldn't exist without Tumblr and my dear mutual @mandalorian-general <3 but I will upload it to my new account on Ao3 too.

This short (3 916 words) story is a sneak peek into my my AU called Figgiverse which focuses on my OC Tiggnella and her husband clone commando Fi. It's also my first try to write in English so I hope you'll like it :)

The title: Double date

Contains: some fluff, some angst, no gore or blood

It was another warm summer day in Kyrimorut. Tiggi was working in the garden. It was so hot and dry that they had to water the plants to get any vegetables and fruit this year. Their independence from outside sources of food improved since moving in here. The fields were full of golden wheat – almost ready to harvest. They had now plenty of nunas, marlello ducks and robas. The garden was full of vegetables and few kinds of berries brought here from other planets. After a few years of hard work and many mistakes they have learnt a lot and could be proud of setting up their own family farm. Somehow clones managed to become great farmers. But other residents were of great help, too. Right now Makke and Aku were assisting Tiggi in watering the garden. While her older daughter was using a watering can with a gentle manner, her youngest son was roughly splashing water from the bucket. Tiggi didn’t tell him anything because she was glad that he was helping her at all. He would rather be with his buir but Fi was helping Darman prepare roba before it will go to those chosen for the kitchen duty this week. He didn’t want his young son to accompany him during such a dirty job.

Tiggi put down a watering can and stretched her back. She missed using garden hose. The last one got broken in mysterious circumstances that involved Burk’yc and a sharp knife (rumors says Sh’ehn freaked out that it was a snake about to attack Makke). He was now with Mij on the barn’s roof. They were repairing it after the last thunderstorm. Briikase and Shukur were collecting vegetables for today’s dinner. The first one apparently enjoyed being on the kitchen duty while the other was just happy he didn’t have to do his chores with Sh’ehn and Kot. Those two were helping Levet with the animals. Tiggi looked around trying to find the last of her clone children when a piece of mud landed on her face. Aku was playing in the pool of muddy water he made between the loth carrots and marble-berries. She sighed.

“Could you stop wasting water, please?’’ she said in the nicest tone she could manage. “The plants need it to grow.”

Aku just ignored her.

“Maybe you would like to help ba’vodu Mij with the marlello ducks? I heard that one of them decided to have ducklings later than others and now ….”

“No.” he said and continued to play in the mud.

Tiggi just added two bars of soap to the already long shopping list. Their children were better in making clothes dirty than she had ever been. Without Fi she wouldn’t be able to take care of them. He seemed to find himself well in the role of the father. He was caring and helpful. Changing diapers and doing the laundry wasn’t a problem for him. It was making her happy that everything seemed to go well in their new life. Together they were able to face all the challenges. Tiggi just wished that she could spend more time just with Fi. Taking care of nine children was really time consuming and they barely had an occasion to be just with each other.

The movement at the edge of the garden caught her eye. It was Etain going somewhere with her younger child, Werda, in a baby carrier. Tiggi called her to come.

“Have you seen Baatir?” she asked when Etain managed to find the path between the carrots.

“He’s with Niner. They are hunting in the woods.” the younger woman replied. She looked much healthier than during the war. She finally gained some weight and didn’t look like a skeleton. Her skin got tanned from working in the fresh air.

“Oh, right. I’ve forgotten. Thanks.”

“Remember he’s not a child anymore, right?”

“He may be biologically twenty but for me he is still that seven-year-old-looking-fourteen frightened ad’ika I adopted…”

Etain smiled softly. “I guess it’s going to happen with all of us eventually, eh? You’ve just happened to experience it earlier… Anyway it’s easy to lose track with so many children. Maybe you need a break? One free day or at least an evening? I know you’re trying to do your best as a mother… but it’s not going to hurt to think about yourself sometimes. Soon you’re gonna develop bags under your eyes so big that they’ll fit Kandosii! Wait… Where is she?”

“With Lenne.” Tiggi’s voice tensed slightly.

“… I still can’t believe you let her take care of your baby.”

“She’s my mother. She can teach her things I can’t. Not since I’ve lost my wings…”

Two women were standing there in awkward silence for a moment.

“So… How do you sleep recently?” Etain asked to change the topic.

“The right question is: DID I sleep recently…”

“You really need to take a break.”

“And leave Fi with all our kids? I couldn’t do that.”

“Maybe you and he could take a break together?”

“And leave NINE kids with someone else?”

“Asking wouldn’t hurt. Someone might agree. You know, it’s not a bad thing to ask for help. We’re all family now. It’s been a hard time for all of us trying to find ourselves in this new reality. We all get tired. You don’t know how many times I think about how I used to spend time just with Darman… Our little dates on Coruscant… Or when you, me, Dar and Fi were just sitting and chatting like average young people who are in love... Of course, Qibbu’s Hut wasn’t the most romantic place. And the food wasn’t the best. But these memories are priceless. I wish I could relieve them... Being a parent demands to do some sacrifices but I wouldn’t change it for anything else.”

Etain affectionately kissed the top of Werda’s head. The toddler replied with a joyful giggle.

Tiggi smiled softly at them. She wished she could find herself in the role of the mother as easily as Etain did. It made her more mature and wiser compared to the young girl they met on Qiilura.

“If you’re so eager to help… Do you have any idea what to do with him?” she pointed her head at Aku playing in the mud.

Etain looked at the boy then she came closer and crouched next to him.

“What a nice paddle of mud you have here.”

Aku looked at her suspiciously.

“Can I join you?” she asked with a friendly smile.

The boy stared at her for a moment as if he was wondering if he could trust her. Eventually he accepted her and moved aside to make some space in the mud for her.

“I made it myself!” Aku said proudly.

“Wow! That’s amazing! Good job!”

Tiggi just stared at them in confusion while Etain started to play in the mud with Aku. Werda was wiggling in the carrier. She wanted to join them. One of the balls of mud that Aku had made earlier started to shake and then move slowly towards her.

“Hey! It’s mine!” Aku yelled and stopped the ball. Werda stared at him angrily.

“Why don’t you share some mud with her too?” Etain asked politely.

“Because then you will tell me to bath her!”

The young woman almost chuckled. “How about sharing the mud with the plants instead? And make them some nice fortresses to protect them from ants!”

She put some mud around the stem of a berry bush and shaped it into a little fortress. Then she added a leaf as a flag. Aku liked the idea and soon all mud was put under the nearby bushes.

“Good Job! They look amazing! And now the plants are safe.” Etain praised the boy. “Now, after you clean yourself, would you like to join Kad and ba’vode Vau? They are making wooden ships to launch on the lake later this afternoon.”

Tiggi watched in shock as Aku happily agreed and ran to the bathroom in the main building.

“How’s that possible that everyone has better relation with my own son then me?”

“Be patient and understanding. I believe you’ll find a common ground with him in the right time.”

“Yeah… Anyway. Remember what you said about relieving those romantic moments on Triple Zero? How about doing that again?”

Etain blinked in surprise. “You mean… You want the four of us…”

“Yes.”

“…to go back to Triple Zero…?”

“No, no ,no, no, no! I meant setting up an event here on Mandalore.”

“You mean… a date? For the four of us?”

“Regular folks call it a double-date. So what do you think?”

“I would love to but… how? Where? I don’t remember any romantic places in Enceri. Unless you want to go all the way to Keldabe…”

“Not necessary. How about preparing a romantic dinner nearby home, at the lake? Let’s say tomorrow evening? You and I could do the shopping in Enceri in the morning – I have a long list of things to buy anyway – and get something special for our boys, eh?”

“Uh-huh. You’re really into this idea, I see. Okay but who will take care of the children?”

“We’ll find someone.” Tiggi said with confidence. She was already setting up everything in her head.

***

Next morning Tiggi and Etain took the speeder and travelled to Enceri. Nobody got suspicious because it wasn’t uncommon for the two women to go shopping together. Few people even asked to buy something for them. In the city they split to find everything faster. Few hours later they were coming back home with all stuff from the list and more…

“Woo-hoo! You’re back! Did you buy extra spicy warra nuts I asked for?” Fi was already searching through the bags.

“Hey! Maybe help us bring everything inside first!” Tiggi said with a chuckle.

“Alright, alright!” he picked up few bags.

“Wait! Not this one!” she took one package from him.

“Oh? What’s inside?” Fi got intrigued.

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise? I love surprises! Is it something to eat?”

Tiggi chuckled. “You’ll see later! I hope you don’t have any plans for the evening…”

“No, I don’t. Why?”

“You’ll see~”

“Tell me!”

“No! It’s a surprise!”

“I don’t want to wait!”

Darman watched them argue playfully while bringing bags inside the house. He said to his wife:

“I wonder what they are up to.”

“I have no idea.” she replied in innocent voice. “But I hope you too have a free evening.”

“Huh? Yeah, I do.”

“Great.” she stated and left him even more confused to bring her secret package to the kitchen.

***

Much later that day Darman found Fi walking impatiently near the closed door to the kitchen.

“Hey, have you seen Kad’ika and Wer’ika? I can’t find them.”

“Nope. Sorry, vod.” Fi tried to look through the keyhole.

Darman stared at him in curiosity.

“What’s going on, vod?”

“They locked themselves in the kitchen!”

“Who?”

“Our wives! They are preparing a surprise for us.”

“Oh? I’m curious what it will be…”

“Me too! Do you still have the hydraulic ram? We could use it to open the door slightly and try to sneak in…”

The door suddenly opened and Tiggi came out of the kitchen. “No need to do that. It’s ready.”

“Yay! Where is it? Can I see it now?” Fi couldn’t constrain himself. His wife chuckled.

“It’s in the basket. And no, you can’t see it until we reach our destination.”

“Which is?” he followed her closely in excitement trying to take a peek into the basket.

“The lake.” Etain explained. She was holding another basket. “We’re going to spend this evening nicely… Just the four of us.”

“Yay!” Fi yelled happily and rushed to help his wife with carrying everything.

“But what about our children? I can’t find them anywhere!” Darman worried.

Fi froze in the middle of opening the basket. Tiggi used this moment to take it back from his hands.

“Don’t worry. We’ve found babysitters.”

“For all of them? For... ELEVEN children in total??” Darman was in a shock.

“Yes, darling. No worries.” His wife assured him. “This evening we can rest, relax and spend some time only with each other.”

“Perfect!” Fi grinned and picked up Tiggi with the basket. Darman and Etain just giggled, grabbed each other hands and followed the other couple to the lake. It was going to be a pleasant evening.

***

After a few minutes of walking they reached the lake. No one wanted to go all the way around it to reach their spot so they took the wooden boat. It wasn’t very impressive (the clones built it themselves) but big enough to fit the four of them and two baskets. The men persisted to paddle instead of using engine attached to the backside of their vehicle. In the meantime their wives were supposed to sit on the bench and enjoy the view.

The surface of the water was shining in the rays of the setting sun. Insects with glittering wings were flying right above the lake all around them. It reminded Etain of Qiilura and how she met Darman. It still wasn’t a fully pleasant memory – she had a very tough time there. But it made her stronger and gave her the most loving and loyal husband she could ask for.

Darman was staring at his wife with adoration while paddling. For him she looked beautiful everyday, even early in the morning, but in this moment she was even more stunning. Her gaze focused far away while she watched the nature around them, apparently lost in her thoughts. Her ginger hair seemed to burn in the last rays of the sun. He felt so happy at this moment.

In the meantime Tiggi was half-heartedly arguing with Fi.

“I can’t let you do all the work while I’m just sitting here and resting.” she stated.

“You and Etain have prepared everything for this date so it’s fair enough if we pay off by taking us all to the destination.” Fi replied while admiring how pretty his wife was while trying to be frustrated at him. Her eyes were betraying her. Whenever she looked at him they were always full of love and it was making him feel like the luckiest man alive.

“Besides, I thought you like to stare at me…” He winked.

Tiggi chuckled. “Oh, I absolutely love to admire your body~” she wiggled her eyebrows. “So… I suppose I can’t make you change your mind, huh?”

“No. Unless you swap me and I’ll be able to take a peek inside the basket...”

“Absolutely not!” Tiggi pulled the basket closer to herself and they both burst out with laugher.

Soon they reached their destination and pulled the boat onto the shore. There was a small beach with soft, golden sand. Close enough to see the bastion between the trees but far enough not to be bothered by anyone.

Together they spread out the a picnic blanket. Fi gazed at Tiggi pleadingly.

“Okay, okay!” she chuckled. “You can unpack the basket now.”

Fi grinned cheerfully and attacked the basket with the shout of victory. Darman followed him closely. They laid out on the blanket all the goods they had found. Smoked roba strips, roasted nuna wings, baked sweet potatoes, four types of warra nuts, some fruit from their garden plus some exotic ones from the market. And a bottle of wine.

Their eyes were sparkling in excitement as they started eating without hesitation. Etain and Tiggi giggled. The feast begun. The men let their wives take as much food as they wanted then consumed the rest with a great delight.

When their stomachs were full the couples snuggled together and enjoyed the wine. Fortunately Etain remembered to pack the glasses.

“Mmm… This tastes much different than ne’tra gal… Where did you get it from? Keldabe?” Darman asked.

“From Xi’leen.” Tiggi replied.

The rest stared at her in a shock.

“What? I’ve got it as a present from senator Mevena, my dear friend. He said to use it for a special occasion. I managed to take it from the Jedi Temple before… you know…”

“So is this occasion special enough?” Fi tried to steer the chat away from painful memories and nuzzled his head against her.

“Surely.” she kissed his temple with affection.

“You know, I like it now. We should do it more often.” Darman stated while rubbing Etain’s arm. “I mean, I love our children but… it’s nice to have some time just for ourselves.”

Etain rested her head on his shoulder. “I absolutely agree.”

They all sat in silence. Two couples in their loving embraces enjoying the peacefulness, their company, the last rays of the sun above the trees, the beautiful nature around them, just their special moment…

***

“I’m going to ask one last time… Where is Aku?” Mij had been staring with a deep frown at the group of young clones. All of them had perfectly neutral faces. One of them stepped out to the front.

“I’ll talk with them and find out… but please leave us alone for a moment.”

Mij sighed.

“Fine, Baatir. You have three minutes.”

He went to the other room where Tallisibeth was showing something on the microscope to Makke. The little girl seemed fascinated. Not too far behind them, Uthan was watching the children with a proud smirk.

“How are the ladies doing?” Mij asked his wife and stood next to her.

“Very well, my dear. Tall’ika is showing Mak’ika what’s hidden in the water from the lake. The young one is curious about everything yet very careful for her age. She is skilled to be a scientist one day.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We’re going to have another apprentice soon.” he said with a proud smile while he watched their daughter patiently teaching Makke how the microscope works.

“How about the boy?”

Mij sighed heavily.

“That bad?”

“They locked him somewhere and don’t want to tell me where.”

“Heh. I’m glad I’m taking care of the girl then.” She smirked.

“You’re not helping…”

Baatir’s head popped through the door.

“Sir, I know where he is.”

Uthan patted her husband’s shoulder. “Good luck, dear.”

Mij walked towards the door.

“It seemed easier back then on Kamino… Maybe I’m just getting too old for that.” He mumbled to himself and entered the other room. The clones stood in a perfect line. Baatir spoke for them.

“Sir, I’ll tell you where Aku is and I’ll take the blame on me...”

“No way! You can’t do that!” one of the clones opposed.

“We’ll take the blame on us as a team!” the third one said and the rest agreed.

Mij had to stop himself from sighing again.

“Fine, just please tell me where he is.”

All of them pointed at the bulletproof chest in the corner of the room. Gilamar walked over there, unlocked it and slowly opened. Aku burst out immediately, punched him in the face and sprinted towards the door. He tried slaloming between his brothers but Burk’yc managed to catch him. The boy started screaming and wiggling in his arms.

“Let him go…” Mij groaned while holding a hand to his bleeding nose. Burk’yc let his younger brother go and they all watched him storming out of the room in silence. Baatir just gave Mij a tissue.

Aku ran at full speed through the corridor, dodged Laseema and Jilka chatting and slipped into a random room. He closed the door, turned around and realized where he got himself locked. Next to now empty fireplace in an old armchair Walon Vau was sitting and knitting. Nearby Kad was playing with his toys on the floor. Werda was laying in her carrier and being closely watched by Mird. The old man didn’t even look up.

“Greetings, young one. You seem lost. Come, sit down. I bet Kad will gladly share his toys with you.”

The boys stared at each other in silence. Eventually the older one extended his hand holding one of his toy speeders. Aku came closer, took it and started quietly playing with him. Suddenly something hit him in the back. He turned around and realized it was Werda’s teether. The little girl was grinning at him cheerfully. Mird made disappointed growl and took the teether back to her only for it to be thrown at Aku again. Mird whined in frustration and stared at its owner.

“Mird’ika, the young ones have to train their aim somehow. Besides I would be grateful if you could keep your own offspring in line…” Vau raised a thread of wool from which the tiny strill hung.

“Lord Carud, please, let it go.” he gently unattached it and put it back on the ground. The puppy whined in protest.

“Go play with your siblings.”

It looked at the other two puppies playfully fighting nearby. The last thing it wanted was to get another beating from its siblings. It walked over to Werda and curled up on her belly. She began gently petting it and soon both of them fell asleep.

Walon smirked slightly. He enjoyed the peaceful moment and continued knitting another blanket for Werda.

***

The sun was almost fully set. In the last of rays of the sun on the rooftop a winged woman was crouching. First wrinkles were decorating her face. The evening breeze was blowing her loose hair gently. A sharp gaze of her blue eyes was wandering across the lake to the opposite shore. She smiled softly at the view of two couples relaxing and enjoying each other company on the blanket. Some voices reached her ears and she looked down at the front yard beneath her bare feet.

It was already covered in shadow so the residents of Kyrimorut started bringing the tables and benches out to eat dinner there. She closed her eyes and breathed in a cooling evening breeze. The infant in her arms cooed.

“Shh…” she rocked it and wrapped her wings tighter around them both.

Below some children were laughing and running around. The older ones were helping adults bring the food and plates to the tables. Briikase and Shukur were arguing on which side of the plates forks should be placed.

The baby cooed again.

“Shush… Don’t worry little one, I’m here…” She smiled softly and gently stroked baby’s pouting face. “Your mamawill be back soon. Don’t worry, she didn’t abandon you. She wouldn’t…” the woman’s voice cracked. “She’s not like me…”

She gazed down again. The view of the family full of life, with lots of joyful children running around, with everyone helping each other, with their laughs and little talks… It all reminded her of her own home. The one she lost long time ago.

“Hey, Lenne!” Ruusan shouted from the ground. She was holding her little daughter in her arms. “Come down! The dinner is ready!”

Lenne smiled at the two. Not everybody in Skirata clan accepted her presence (Fi hardly ever gave her more than a disgusted look) but Ruu was always nice to her. The woman waved at the young girl in her friend’s arms. She smiled and waved back.

“I’m coming. Hold on, Kandosii.”

The moment she spread her wings the baby giggled happily. Lenne couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You surely have an allasian soul… Off we go!”

She floated down to join her… companions. She wouldn’t dare to call them family. Not yet… Maybe never.

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