#the hunt is at step 14 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

s-4pphics · 2 months ago

Text

drenched in white. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: after all your time alone, you’re finally not, but you’re definitely not prepared for your new life. [jackson AU]

WORD COUNT: 7.1K

WARNINGS: readers mute and taller than ellie, death, murder, blood, mentions of alcohol/starvation/hypothermia, a bit of gore, near death experience, trauma and sadness, brief girls kissing, some fluff because kids :)

A/N: tbh idk where this came from but i missed ellie so yeah prob wont write anymore of this but yeah

—

Apocalypses are fucking stupid.

Humans are born into nothing, forced to run all their lives from blood-lustful beasts that can rewire their entire brain chemistry into one that sadistically matches theirs, and if that doesn’t happen, you die anyway with nothing but the clothes on your back and a horse with no rider. That’s fucking stupid.

You weren’t alive when the world was thriving… presumably so — whatever the old world considered thriving. Those history books you stole in adolescence would argue otherwise, but there were some happy moments. On occasion. Maybe? Whatever. But you weren’t there, and you can only imagine how you would’ve turned out if you were. Would you be married? Have children? Own property? Businesses? Whatever other luxury the old world prioritized although it all seemed exhausting?

Would you be an addict, a trainwreck, someone who had it all then nothing in the blink of an eye? That seems to be reoccurring in some of those biographies you found about people called celebrities. They have everything then die too young or way too old and eventually fade into a nobody, just like everyone else. History is so heartbreaking. Such cruel fate.

You’ve been by yourself for a long time. Some would still consider you young, but you feel like a zombie that’s risen from the grave most of the time. You steal and live selfishly and waste your life reading because you can. You’re lucky enough to no longer have anyone you care about. Your recklessness doesn’t hinder anyone but yourself, so you read read read. Sometimes, you hunt for books more than you do for food. You’re not a fighter — it surprises you every day how you haven’t died yet — but a decent amount of people would consider you book smart. This one group you crossed paths with some years ago called you a genius because you’re self-taught in practically everything: reading and writing, starting fires, planting food, sewing, mapping plains. Whenever you’re harmed, you can heal yourself kinda. When you were 14, you stepped on a rusty nail and, instead of living the short remainder of your life as an amputee, you heroed through a disgusting infection that left you ill for 2 weeks, then sewed your own wound up. You couldn’t walk for days.

That same group also called you mute.

You don’t think you are, but rightfully so. There’s no one for you to talk to, so you don’t talk, simple as that. Everyone you knew died when you were a kid, maybe 7 or 8 — spending the majority of your life alone and in hiding doesn’t make for much conversation. Plus, the fucks that rule the Earth are nosy as hell. Being as quiet as possible is needed.

Reading passes time. It’s the last phase of winter, but it’ll be Spring in no time, thanks to the bag you drag through snow: stuffed with one jacket, a rusted chef’s knife, and 46 different novels and counting.

Your body’s gonna shut down on you. It’s so fucking cold and you’re barely layered but you haven’t finished The Cable Companies, One Hundred and One Best Songs. The pages filled with piano notes are almost enough to make you hear the songs… Or maybe the lack of nutrients is making you hallucinate. Guess you’ll find out when you finish. Just 22 more pages.

No food, no water, no warmth, no antique piano. You’re fucked any direction you turn.

There was a small cave somewhere around here. You used to sleep in it during the summer; the dark was always cooler. Maybe it’s buried underneath heaps of snow. You hope not. Fuck.

The closer you get to the cavern, the grosser the air becomes. Death carries a certain mugginess. Why’d they have to die next to your one retreat?

You drag and drag on like your legs weigh a ton all the way to the cave and… Great.

Death and no entrance. Red coats the snow and it reminds you of the twisted tale of Snow White. The decaying carcass of a deer should alarm you, but you only sigh in defeat. Where the fuck are you supposed to read without disturbance?

You only make it two more steps before you collapse face-first into ice. Your lungs wheeze in pain and you’re trying to get yourself up but you can’t. When you blink, you see colors.

Is this death? Or karma? A squirrel runs past you just to rub it in. Furry little bitch.

It’s only when your brain whispers for you to give up that you fully submerge into the snow. Small cries of pain are the only proof of your survival.

Fuck everything. Fuck people, fuck people that turned into monsters, fuck all the stupid trivial shit that the other world loved so deeply. Call it jealousy. Everything’s for nothing nowadays.

Your final thought before the world goes dark.

—

Why is there annoying beeping in heaven?

Maybe you’re naive in believing you made it there. Maybe this is hell. You thought it’d be more fucked up than this. The beeping is irritating though. Besides that, it’s peaceful.

Is this an in between world? Half dead, half not. You remember being into paranormal shit in horror stories years ago. Ghostly entities and whatnot. Maybe you’re… that. There’s whispers in the background. Bleary and distant but you kinda hear them. Maybe someone’s conjuring you up. Why you of all people?

“— ne… de…”

Need? Your ears are failing. Why is everything suddenly hurting? Pain in your eyes and behind them and all the way down. It’s hurting everywhere.

“—Jus… there… Not sure.”

It’s hurts so bad everywhere make it stop make it stop —

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

White overtakes your vision. Too bright and too cold and you can’t stop heaving but you want to because it fucking hurts everywhere

“Hey! Hey! Calm—”

The voices are clearer and so is the beeping and so is the pain. Gentle hands land on your shoulders and you thrash when faces, needles and medical equipment clear in your vision. There’s something sharp in your arm. Where the fuck when the fuck how —

“You needa calm down—“

You try to tell this blonde freak to go fuck herself but your voice is shot, coughing and spit flying everywhere.

“The fuck is her probl—“

“Be quiet—“

A crackling scream ripples through you, tears streaming down your face because suddenly more hands are holding you down. Malicious intent or not it makes you fucking sick. The beeping only gets faster.

“MY — my name’s Maria! Listen to me! My name’s Maria! Some of mine went out on patrol a few days ago and found you almost buried. We’re tryna help you!”

You continue to sob but they’re a little less guttural. Her voice is nice. Very motherly.

“You were halfway dead out there,” She huffs like it’s funny and you wanna throw a chair, “What’s your name? Gotta name?”

All the hands are off you except Maria’s. Maybe because you’re not trying to kick her face in anymore. You’re trying to tell her you don’t fucking remember but nothing comes out. Just more coughing.

“Take your time. Deep breaths, shhh, you’re alright.”

You finally meet her eyes and they’re pretty. Pale blue like spring water. The beeping starts to slow bit by bit. It took you all this time to realize that’s your heart. You glimpse at the monitor and… those squiggly lines mean fuck all to you. Why couldn’t you just die?

Your eyes travel, albeit less frantically, but on high guard. Skeptical as ever. You couldn’t even defend yourself against these incredibly polite barbarians if you wanted to. Your bag’s gone. Everything that’s yours is gone. The beeps increase all over again. Maria must sense your anxiety.

“Hey, hey, we have everything. We just had to make sure you were… alright to come in. No bites or nothing, ‘k?”

… Fair. Whatever. Gimme my shit.

“We were snoopin’,” Your vision follows the new voice. A man this time, average sized and bearded, “Ya like t’read?”

You squint and nod.

“‘S a good habit.”

… Awkward. It’s quiet now.

“How ya feelin’? Any pain?” Maria pries gently. You shrug. Not as bad as it was 2 minutes ago. You eye everyone in here, study as much of them as you can. Face, hands, guns latched around their thighs and shoved in their belts. They’re all threats while simultaneously being unthreatening. For now, at least.

“Y’all can get on. I got it from here.” She waves the remaining people off and they leave with tense smiles. The door clicks behind them. The beeping is the slowest it’s been since you woke up.

“Bout that name…”

You only stare at her.

“Don't remember?”

You scratch at your neck, and she sighs, “Not much of a talker, huh?”

You mime writing in a notepad, and Maria quirks with interest. She searches the room before digging through a drawer on the farthest dresser. She returns with a small book and marker.

The aches in your fingers don’t halt your scribbling. You turn the book towards her.

ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME?

The corner of her mouth lifts, “No point in fixin’ ya up if that was the case. No offense, but you’re not threatening.”

You snort.

“You been by yourself for a while?”

You ponder before scribbling.

I WATCHED MY FAMILY DIE. PRETTY FUCKED UP CHILDHOOD. I’M ALWAYS ALONE.

She stares sympathetically and shakes her head in apologies. All you can do is shrug. You’d be more surprised if a kid grew up in this world without experiencing mass destruction. Trauma practically raised you.

“There’s not many people that can do what you do, y’know? You gotta gift.” She jerks her chin at the booklet. “Somebody taught’cha?”

You point to yourself.

“Don’t let that head get big now.” She smirks and you smile sorta.

“We got kids…” Maria blindly points towards the door.

“A lot of ‘em, and we’ve been tryna get them to read more but… I don’t know, some of these old bastards think it’s pointless and that discourages them.”

Oh.

“I don’t know what you got goin’ on out there, but… If you choose to go back out there, I won’t fault you, but if you don’t…”

Uh oh.

“How do you feel ‘bout teaching toddlers their ABCs?”

… Shit.

You scowl.

“I know it’s not the best… position to be in but, I don’t know, I just want something they can look forward to everyday. A new story, some new conversations… anything to get their little brains crankin’.”

“They’re so sweet and I feel like they’d gain so much from someone who cares just as much as they do.”

You don’t write anything. Her pupils shroud with dejection.

“Think about it?” She’s quick to turn away, but not without one last look over her shoulder, “Rest up.”

And the door closes. Your eyes shut in no time, and a comforting darkness overtakes you once more.

—

Leave with nothing but your annotated novels or stay where you’re well fed and warm but surrounded by snotty nosed orphans. Something to think about.

You’ve been in Jackson — you learned the town is called — for less than 48 hours, most of which you were recovering from a severe case of hypothermia. You don’t remember the last time you had a meal that hot. Maria had to reassure you that no one would take your plate.

You still haven’t given Maria a clear answer for her teaching proposal, but she doesn’t bug you about it. She is very eager to show you the daycare though. She’s subtle. You respect it.

Your books are still couped up in the infirmary because, frankly, you hate dragging them everywhere. Maria offered for you to keep them in the library, but you refused. They’re not up for grabs; You nearly died for every single one of those pages and you’ll be damned if someone touches them under your nose. They’re yours. It’s all you got right now.

You might even leave with a horse if Maria still likes you after telling her no to teaching. Tomorrow morning will wrap up your little dead-then-alive journey. Couldn’t hurt to ask.

It’s your first time back outside since your near-death experience. The sun is barely peeking from behind the clouds and your face is so cold it’s almost retraumatizing, but it’s pretty out. Maria was nice enough to give you new boots that weren’t hanging on by their laces.

Jackson bustles like a real, non-apocalyptic town. Lights shine and pick-ups honk and people are fucking smiling? Maybe this is heaven.

Those walls… They’re still high and barricaded. Scouts babysit those gates like clockwork. To think you were on the other side of their scrutiny just a day ago. The twinkling sound of joy confuses the fuck outta you. Laughter. Not only that, but from children. Not starving, nearly dead children, but well-fed, genuinely happy kids. Why does your stomach twist with jealousy? They deserve peace, of course, but so did you. So does every child.

Your eyes search for them — curiosity overtakes your limbs and you step with determination, guided by your ears. The twinkles grow in volume — there must be at least 10 kids playing in the snow.

“HEY! GET OFF, YOU FU—“

“Language!”

��HOW’S THIS FOR LANGU—“

“BOYS! ENOUGH! I’M SICK OF YOUR SHI—!”

“LANGUAGE, MS. DINA!”

“I CAN SAY THAT! YOU CAN’T!”

What a sight this is. Happy kids. Your heart swells. Slightly; you’re glad Maria isn’t here to catch your fondness.

“Alright, vermins, get up, I’ll miss the party.”

“5 more minutes, pleeease!”

“I’m not freezing for you. C’mon!”

The kids seem to love Ms. Dina. They dangle off every single one of her limbs, begging her to throw at least 10 more snowballs. Maybe your ice-cold heart isn’t as frosty as you thought. The sight is disgustingly endearing.

“Ms. Dina… Who’s that?”

And the laughter stops. A bunch of eyes attached to tiny bodies all gawk at you, some with intrigue, others with fear as they cower behind their teacher… babysitter? Whoever she is.

“Not sure, dove. You all have 10 minutes!”

“20!”

“10 or freeze to death! Go!”

Excited screams filter through the wind when said vermins squabble in snow like puppies, pushing and shoving and chucking icy bullets at each other. You never had to worry about being the oddball out, but you sure do look like one now.

“Hey. Maria told us about a scrounger.”

Creases bunch in your forehead, and Dina raises her hands defensively, “Joking, relax. So, are you staying, or…?” You shrug unknowing, and Dina chuckles.

“I think you should. If I had the option to stay here 24/7, I’d take it in a heartbeat. We could use an extra hand with the kids. Maria said you read?”

You nod. “Cool. We have a decent amount of readers — more than most, but, uh… yeah. Our kids need help.”

Your lip twitches alongside your pondering. So many questions rest on your tongue but none can leave. Dina’s eyes are consoling. It shouldn’t spark irritation in your stomach but it does.

“Do you sign?”

You stare in confusion, and she elaborates, “Like… Sign language?” Her hands make a bunch of gestures you don’t understand and your head shakes.

“Darn. No worries. If you’re ever interested in learning, just holler. We got some people that are hard of hearing so we all kinda use it occasionally. But, umm… yeah. I’m Dina.” She extends a polite hand but you don’t accept it. Your head jerks in greeting, and she smiles.

She drops it back to her side, “What should we call you?”

You don’t know. You don’t care. You’re not staying long. Your shoulders rise and fall nonchalantly.

“Should I have them pick?”

Before you can oppose, she’s hollering for—

“DYLAN! COME HERE!”

A rascal with a beanie and bright red boots sprints towards the two of you. His cheeks are so plush and scarred. Dina fixes the color of his sweater, “Dylan, what’s a good name for a teacher?”

“Ms. Dina, obviously—“

“Another name.”

Chipmunk Boy ponders for a moment before snickering, “Mr. Octopus.”

“Fucking hell—“

“Language, Ms. Dina! SWEAR JAR—“

“We don’t even do that here!”

“Okay, okay… just call them Dove or something! Don’t think we don’t notice you calling us that when you forget our names!”

Dina’s eyes widen, “That’s not true! What the… freak!”

Red-Boot-Ranger smirks when Dina catches herself before getting pelted at the back of the head with a snowball.

“Little BITCH—“

Dina shouts, “HEY!—“

“MS. DINA, FRANKIE CURSED!”

“NO, I DIDN’T—“

Arguments break out between all 13 children, loud and boisterous and your head pounds. Too much for one day.

“STOP— sorry, I gotta handle this, but it was nice meeting you! BOYS—“

Dina throws you one last wave before rushing off to scold Dylan and his… bully? You think that’s what they were called in some books you read. A kid messing with another kid or something like that.

You take this last bit of alone time before you depart to explore.

Despite your eagerness to disappear, Jackson is nice. You don’t know what Christmas entails, but it’s often described as festive: a day for togetherness and family and whatever the hell else ‘can’t be bought’ yet everyone buys. Jackson is visually festive. Celebratory scenery. What exactly they’re celebrating goes over your head. There’s nothing to be joyous over. Death traps Jackson at every corner.

Loud music pulls you from your thoughtful stroll. One look through a very large window is enough to scare you shitless. A seemingly cozy space is filled to the brim with strangers who dance and drink and laugh their heads off; Their familiarity with one another makes you physically ill. The scene is like a bullet to the chest. Reminds you of what was once home.

Your nausea doesn’t overtake your curiosity, though.

The moment you step into the bar, warmth suffocates you, heat sizzling through your legs as your face defrosts. The entire bar screams out lyrics to a song you never heard while cups get refilled with burning liquid and it’s overwhelming. There’s so much movement. Too much.

Blonde hair swings out the corner of your eye and you’re instantly relieved. You hustle to where Maria chats with partygoers from across the bar. She’s shocked to see you.

“Hey! You’re up’n moving!”��

You wave awkwardly. Gawk back at the people that gawk at you before Maria hands you a glass.

“You drink?” You deny with a raised hand, and she smiles.

“Probably not the best time to ask,” She hollers over the jukebox, “I’m hoping this is your initiation?” Her eyes are hopeful, and your throat dries a bit. Why are you hesitating to answer?

Maria’s nice enough… probably the nicest stranger you’ve ever met in your entire life, and it seems more comfortable in Jackson than anywhere you’ve been. It doesn’t seem so bad… but you don’t like children. You barely liked yourself at age 10; short and clumsy and vulnerable. Children are too exposed and trusting, even in this life. They get people killed because they’re not careful. It shocks you that a fortress like Jackson carries so many.

A pen and paper get slid on wood and placed in front of you. You eye Maria, and she nods encouragingly. You waste no time.

I DON’T THINK I’LL BE A GOOD TEACHER. DINA HAS MORE PATIENCE IN HER PINKY THAN I DO IN MY ENTIRE BODY. I’M SORRY.

You meekly hold the note up for Maria, and you know she’s disappointed. You patiently wait for her to tell you to get your shit so she can kick you out herself.

It never comes.

“I hope that girl didn’t scare you,” In reference to Dina, and you deny, “I had a feeling you’d say no. It’s alright. Kids are… a lot.”

You set the paper down in relief that she’s not angry. About that horse…

“Doesn’t hurt to ask… You still wanna leave?”

That stuns you. Oftentimes, large groups aren’t so welcoming to… scroungers, or whatever Dina made you out to be. The less mouths to feed, the better. If a newbie holds no purpose, they’re left out to die on their own. It’s happened to you countless times. Why does she care about a stranger so much?

Maria chuckles at your stunned expression, “It’s, um… it’s hard out there. We’ve all seen it, and we’re lucky to have found somewhere… stable. It doesn’t come often.”

“The choice is still yours, stayin’ or goin’, but if you’re scared I’ll kick you out… don’t be. We got nothin’ but space.”

Your mind races yet not one cohesive response comes through. Maria laughs at your slack jaw. “Here. Sleep on it tonight, and let me know in the mornin’. It’s a party! Let loose a little. Go mingle.“

You scribble on the last bit of remaining space.

I’M NOT A PEOPLE PERSON.

Maria huffs, “Neither’s my niece. She’s like a niece to me, that one, over there.” She points at the end of the bar to a woman, girl — looks around your age, babysitting a drink: tatted, hair pulled back, and sulking. She talks with a guy with a mullet that’s too movie-star ready. “You two’d get along, I think. Her name’s Ellie. Jesse’s the one next to her, he’s a sweetheart. Very helpful. If Dina was here, they’d be the Three Musketeers. She still with the kids?”

You nod, but your eyes are locked onto Ellie’s tattoo. You’ve never seen one in person. In romance books, people with tattoos are always trouble: good in bed with murderous tendencies. Maybe it’s wrong to assume, but Ellie doesn’t seem like that. No one that pouty would kill a fly. You wonder if her friend has tattoos. He’d fit the stereotype more.

“Wanna meet ‘em?”

Fire bursts underneath your cheeks. You vehemently shake your head at Maria, and mischief glints in her eyes.

“HEY, ELLIE, JES—“

You gawk at Maria, tugging at her wrist for her to stop, but she laughs, “Hey, you two!”

Your face falls into your palm. “Need somethin’, Maria?” A deep voice blares. Jesse, apparently. Fucking great.

“No, hun. Just introducing a new friend,” Maria whispers loud enough for you to hear before tending to other patrons, “Convince her to stay?”

Your eyes roll and your heart pulses.

“… Hey.”

You wave weakly. Annoyed, and Jesse laughs. “Yeah, she’s a lot sometimes. I’m Jesse.” You send him a thumbs up.

“… Gotta name yourself?”

You shrug with agitation. If someone else asks you that, you’ll scream.

“… Hm. Okay, then. I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” You decline as politely as your attitude allows.

“You, El?”

“M’good.”

“Alright,” He hums too uppity, “Enjoy the quiet.” He goofs before following Maria to the other end of the bar. Silence ensues between you and Ellie, and it’s fucking awkward. It wouldn’t be if you were by yourself. You pick at the piece of paper in front of you.

Ellie adjusts her stance, attention on the dance that dominates the floor, her tatted arm propping her up against the bar. You can see the fine lines out the corner of your eye: leaves of a fern resting underneath a moth. A Polyphemus. Compulsive. A symbol of death, you once read somewhere. Regardless, it’s beautifully done.

“Want a picture?”

You stiffen and your gaze drops to the paper. Your eyelids squeeze shut in embarrassment.

Ellie releases a hefty breath before sighing, “You read?” She asks, and you shrug.

“You don’t talk?” You do nothing.

She already sounds annoyed by you. You hope she notices you’re in the same boat. “It’s better if you don’t.” She mumbles to herself. You throw a glare in her direction, but she pays you no mind. She’s focused elsewhere, eyes much more delicate. You discreetly follow her line of vision.

… Dina. Hilarious. Is she a god here? Good with children and the annoying and aloof? Everyone here claps and hoots at her being dipped by her partner like they’ve never seen dancing before. When did she even get here? Where are the kids? Maybe they’re all snowballed out and went to bed—

… What. What the fuck? You don’t care, what the hell.

You turn back to Ellie when Dina waves at her, wide-eyed and princess-y, before waltzing towards Jesse to throw her arms around his neck, which he eagerly returns around her waist. Ellie’s expression goes from lovestruck to tense in an instant, jaw clenched and eyes burning through the floor. You try to hide a snicker.

Ellie’s jealous. Adorable.

“The fuck are you smiling for?” She grumbles at you, but her cheeks burn under the yellow light. Your laughter finally bubbles over.

“Nothing’s funny. Shut the fuck—“

“Well, what’d I tell you! Two wallflowers hittin’ it off! Look at that smile!”

Maria graciously interrupts Ellie’s angered mantra. Your hand hides your grin before a light hand brushes your back. You flinch away on instinct. No one notices except Ellie.

Dina greets you first and you almost holler with joy, “Hey, Dove! Sorry I didn’t come over earlier! Had to get this circus goin’ since no one else did,” She casually takes Ellie’s glass and downs its contents with no problem, “Thank you.”

“Such a dick.” Ellie says slowly, and Dina smiles. “You love me.”

You pinch your smile away.

“Dove?” Maria inquiries.

Dina shrugs, “Better than Doe. Makes her sound like a corpse. Dove’s cute.”

“Cute for a bitch,” Ellie slips under her breath, and Dina slaps her arm in scolding. Tames her until she quiets like an actual bitch. This shit is hilarious.

“I like that. Dove.” Maria approves. “It’s… fitting. Joel found her buried in white, so.”

“Okay, Mrs. Poet—“

Maria’s married? Huh.

She hushes Dina playfully. The dark-haired girl interlaces Ellie’s fingers with hers before yanking her off the bar and onto the dance floor. The music slows as if cued just for them. Dina pulls Ellie into her, and Ellie’s hands rest on her waist.

Dina leads, surprisingly.

Ellie’s expression doesn’t scream delight. She’s nerve wracked and her eyes flit over every body that surrounds her with anxiety. Even yours.

Dina’s a good distraction. She's quite seductive when she brushes loose hair behind Ellie’s ear, caresses her cheek, touches her with tenderness that you’ve only seen described on paper. Only in your imagination was it real.

Kisses her.

Oh.

You turn away. Your skin’s hot. Maria’s distracted. Thank God. You’ve had enough mingling for tonight. You leave the bar without a trace, the pen and paper left on the stand the only evidence of your appearance.

“Hey! HEY! Ms. Dina’s friend!”

“They’re not friends, she just got here—“

“Shut up! Ms. Dina always said respect your olders—“

“Elders, dumbfuck. And she doesn’t look old—“

Ah, the potty-mouthed bully. Although, he doesn’t seem so threatening in the darkness. Children are the bane of your existence. You’re nowhere near the infirmary. Why are they out in the cold by themselves?

“Hey, Ms. Dina’s friend, how was the party! Ms. M said we aren’t allowed to go in because people are… drunk, whatever that means!”

The same voice from earlier. Red-boot-Ranger. Dylan.

“It means they’re alcoholics—“ A girl this time. Shorter than Dylan but just as expressive.

“I thought alcohol made people happy?“

“Could be, but my aunt drank herself to death so I guess it’s different for everyone!”

Goddamn.

“What’s your name, miss! … Ma’am?” Dylan corrects shyly.

“Ma'am means grandma—“

“Ruth, shut the hell up, Jesus!”

“NO, YOU SHUT UP—“

Dylan waits expectantly while the other two kids attempt to rip each other’s heads off. You flap your hands like wings.

“… Fly? Your name’s fly?”

You shake your head and point upward.

“OH! Sky!—“

You wave your hands in denial and flap your arms while squawking.

“… Bird? Bald Eagle? Um…”

You yank at your hair in exasperation before pointing down at untouched, white snow beneath your feet.

“Snow? Snow bird? Uhh… Swan… Lake?”

Decent guess. This fucking sucks.

“I don’t know what your name is, miss, I’m sorry.” Fucking Christ, the poor thing looks so upset. You’re suddenly the worst human being on the planet. “Are you mad at me?” Dylan asks, voice laced with insecurity, and something cracks in your chest. What the fuck. Your hands wave in denial apprehensively, and he exhales a held breath before smiling.

“I like you! Why don’t you talk?”

You sigh before scribbling on your palm like you did with Maria, and all three kids excitedly demand writing utensils from each other.

“I DON’T HAVE A MARKER!” Frankie hisses when Ruth slaps him on the shoulder.

“DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SUCH AN ASS? FREAKO!”

“Freako! ARE YOU FIVE—“

“What are you kiddos still doin’ up?”

“MR. JOEL!”

Ruth and Dylan practically jump onto this old man and he groans mockingly. Joel. Hm.

“You’re all supposed to be sleep. Did Dina not tuck you in?”

“She did, but we snuck out. We’re bored! Please throw snowballs at us!” Frankie whines.

Joel calmingly caters to the children and their hyperactivity; his voice is very soothing. Gentle enough for the kids to accept that he’s not chucking snowballs at them this late at night.

Joel addresses you. “Maria decided to keep you ‘round?”

It was him. His eyes are calm and welcoming, but there’s a hollowness behind them. It’s hardly noticeable, but he’s bothered by something. He masks it well enough for the kids. He must be a dad. Maybe one of them is his. You just shrug, and he chuckles; crackles like fire. Breaks a bit. His eyes grow sadder the longer he stares at you. Is this man about to cry?

“I’ll, uh… I’ll walk ‘em back,” He nods at Dylan who’s already half asleep on his shoulder, and you nod. He gives you one last look before turning. You clutch onto his hand before he can go any further. He seems shocked by the gesture, but you squeeze it with all your might. You hope every clench reads as a thank you thank you thank you.

He swallows before nodding down at you, returning your gentle squeezes. The last breath he takes before leading the kids home is unsteady. Who broke that poor man’s heart?

You watch his back all the way down the trail until the door to the bar slams shut. It’s Ellie all bundled up and seemingly about to strangle somebody. You can see Dina and Jesse scrambling to follow her through the window, but Ellie’s determined to get the fuck outta range.

You don’t know why, but you whistle loud enough to get her attention. Her cheeks are blazing and her eyes are pained and angry.

“The fuck do you want?” Her breath frosts with each spit she throws. You’re not really sure, so you throw her a thumbs up. Two just in case she read it as good work instead of are you good?

She scoffs a laugh that sounds like a sob, “Fuck off.” And she’s off again. The opposite direction from Joel.

Alright. Fuck her too.

—

The past 5 days have been a blur.

The morning after the party, your brain wracked to put every single interaction together but came up short. So much happened that you can barely grasp it. You died, came back, met at least 100 people, experienced acute peer pressure, and got cussed out by some short, tattooed psychopath with an equivalent amount of people skills as you.

You’ve met teachers, medical professionals, rambunctious kids with a hunger similar to rhinos, a potential dad with an insane amount of patience, but all you can think about is Ellie and her fucking tattoo.

You think that same moth appeared in your dream last night, flapping around and pissing you off.

Maria’s been in a good mood, at least. Maybe because you’re staying in Jackson until further notice. You’re glad she didn't make a big deal about it: the inquiry was short and over breakfast the morning after the party. You slid her note that read CAN I STAY?, she said yes, and now you have a two story home all to yourself, floor stacked to the ceiling with your books and some she lent you.

The first thing you did after she left was scream bloody murder for no reason other than relief. After years of instability, you finally have something consistent. You don’t know how to react to that besides weeping.

There’s only one downside. Ellie’s your neighbor. Life will always humble you.

She’s the first person you see every morning and the last every night and you hate it. The only time you experience true peace is when she’s out on patrol. To think you assumed Ellie wasn’t violent. She returned one morning on her horse covered knee-high in blood as she wiped her switchblade on her dirtied jeans. Even Jesse seemed intimidated.

Meanwhile, you’ve been everywhere: tending the garden, handing beers out to men twice your age, fixing lights. Joel even asked for assistance on a car repair even though you’ve never seen one in your life. You both finished, though. Drives good as new.

You think Dylan’s grown attached. He’s very clingy and you hate it but he also has the chubbiest cheeks you’ve ever seen so you have no choice but to forgive him for his sins. Whenever he jumps on your back while you’re squatted in front of the garden, you just deal with it. He rambles enough for the both of you.

Now you’re serving dinner with a homophobe. Yippee.

Seth sucks gorilla balls. When Maria first introduced you both, he thought you were deaf and asked if you had to be put with him. When you glared at him, he went red in the face. You understand why Ellie hates him. Apparently he called her and Dina dykes at the party and she and Joel almost strangled him. The canteen’s already filled with people, but the patrol group hasn’t returned. They usually make it back before sunset, but it’s dark now. Seth’s set on closing the kitchen down, but you decline everytime. They’re probably starving wherever they are.

It’s not until an hour, then 2 passes when you wrap all 12 of their individual plates.

You’re scared shitless, but it’s time for Dylan’s bedtime story.

—

You always have to remind Dylan to keep his volume down during story time so he doesn’t wake the other kids.

“Why would anyone give up anything magical for a cow? Okay, sure, you’re betting that they actually are magic, but why on Earth? I’d never give away my magic! Am I wrong, Ms. Dove?”

You smile and deny.

“SEE! Exactly! Anyway,” He refocuses on the page. “You numbskull! I can’t eat! You ruined my appetite!”

Dylan’s a great reader, but he loses his place very often. You showed him the follow-your-finger trick and it’s helped, but the poor thing always has to comment on everything. At least he’s entertained.

You don’t realize you dozed off on the floor until you’re frantically awoken by a teary-eyed Dylan. The big and small babies cry while they barricade the door with blankets and dressers. Your heart sinks.

“Ms. Dove…” Dylan whispers.

Screams echo from outside and the windows have orange hues. Something’s burning.

“Someone bad is outside.”

The patrol group is back.

—

You don't meet Clickers often.

They come and go and kill as they please and you don’t bother them, simply take your plans in the opposite direction as stealthy as possible. Even with your avoidance, they somehow always find their way back to you. Back to everyone.

You hear everything from the daycare; hollering, gunshots, Clickers wailing, but you can’t fucking see. Protocol for a daycare lockdown is fairly simple: turn off the lights and take all the brats up to the nursery. It’s the most child-safe section of the building while simultaneously having a locked drawer filled with glocks. Great.

Now you’re locked up with whimpering toddlers with a weapon you barely know how to use. If Joel hadn’t done that runthrough with you yesterday, you’d be fucked and so would the kids. You rock Dylan who sits on your lap while hushing the toddlers. You’re doing whatever you can to keep them quiet, but they’re babies who cry a lot. You hum to them, braid their hair, roll scratched-up dice but nothings fucking working. You never thought you’d regret staying in Jackson this early on.

The younger ones start wailing when pounding on wood echoes from downstairs. Dylan holds you closer.

Protocol is simple.

Don’t open the door. Maria told you that. Keep it locked and don’t open it.

The thuds get louder and so do the children and panic bombards you. It’s starting to feel too familiar. Those bangs are so fucking loud. Toddlers to 13 year olds are looking to you for guidance while you’re crumbling. How do you make them stop crying why won’t they stop fucking crying—

Someone’s trying to beat the door down. Dylan’s practically choking you with his little arms as he sobs quietly into your neck. You don’t realize you’re crying until a small hand wipes your face and tiny bodies snuggle closer to you.

Are you going to die surrounded by children all over again? One time wasn’t enough, God? The best moment of your life turns to the worst in a matter of seconds. You’ll have to run away like you did the first time. You should’ve never slid the note asking for more time with the kids under Maria’s door, fuck fuck fuck—

3 deafening pops bang from outside, and then there’s silence. It sounds like wood is breaking and there’s footsteps rushing upstairs and the babies are screaming so loud. When the nursery door lock gets shot off, Dylan screams right in your ear.

“EVERYBODY OUT, LET’S GO!”

“Mr. Tommy!” Relief washes over your kids before they start hustling.

“OUT, OUT, LET’S GO!”

All the kids scramble to grab their coats and socks and boots before rushing out of the nursery. Your hands won’t stop shaking. You barely get onto your feet before Tommy shoves you against the wall with fire for pupils.

“You never fuckin’ wait to die when there’s kids around, you understand me!”

You’re nodding but you can’t hear because you’re still sobbing. “Whatever bullshit you learned outside is over with now. It don’t matter what happens, always give them a chance to live even if it means you’re done!”

Tommy doesn’t waste another second on you. He leaves with a tense back and a rifle and you allow yourself to break. You heave and sob because that’s all you could do when you were a child and your brothers and sister were all killed in front of you.

—

You vacate the daycare hours later. The doors need fixing.

Your head and eyes hurt terribly but nothing compares to the emptiness in your chest. Maria told you that the kids would be separated into different houses until the daycare is safe for them again. Even she stares at you with disapproval despite her indifferent tone.

You feel like a ghost on the walk back home. Your hands are clenched in fists and your breathings slow. Why didn’t you stay downstairs and check the windows to make sure there were no intruders? Why weren’t you holding the gun in preparation for battle? Why’d you allow the kids to believe you couldn’t protect them?

Because you couldn’t. In that moment, you were a child all over again, just as lost and confused and scared as they were. It was all too familiar.

Jackson’s asleep, minus the painful groaning coming from behind Ellie’s home.

You’re immediately in defense. So many patrol members had to go to the infirmary after their arrival. Maria never mentioned anything about Ellie.

Your concern carries your feet until you round the corner, and her gun’s already drawn and pointed at you. That barely shakes you; it’s what surrounds her thats confusing.

She’s leant back against the foundation of her home surrounded by towels, a large bottle of clear liquid, and her profusely bleeding, non-tattooed arm that wraps around her stomach.

When you take a cautious step toward her, her gun clicks. Her eyes are vicious and untrustworthy, and you know she’d kill you in a second. She watches every move you make down to the ragged rise and fall of your chest. You’re unsure how long you stand there before she winces in pain. It’s slight but you catch it. You slowly point to the open wound on her forearm.

“What.” She rasps. You mime wrapping a bandage on yourself. Her snicker is pained.

“Get the fuck outta here. You done enough for tonight.”

You swallow thickly, unmoving.

“Fuck off before I blow your brains out.”

You take 2 more steps.

“GET THE FU—“

When your knees hit the snow in front of her, she’s stunned silent. You’re already reaching for the bandage and bottle of disinfectant. You can’t see her injury that well, but she might need stitches if it’s still that bloody. When you reach for her injured arm, she pushes you into the snow. You groan in frustration before getting up and trying again.

Ellie swallows a pained noise and maneuvers her injury away the closer you get. You’re trying to help her! Why’s she being so difficult! You crack open the disinfectant and your nose instantly burns. You gasp before moving the bottle away from your face.

“Just go the fuck home, goddamnit—“

That’s not disinfectant. It’s acid.

Ellie’s gun is still on you, but she’s not as steady. There’s a tremor in her weapon and her bottom lip is pinched between her teeth. Any movement she makes seems to hurt her.

You move closer, and Ellie wheezes like an injured gazelle. It’s not until you see the small indentation when you realize her bleeding isn’t from a knife or a gun.

Those are teeth marks.

Ellie got bit. Your heart thrashes and your legs beg you to run.

You know, and she knows you know. It’s a misunderstanding, it has to be. A human or a dog or a bear bit her, not a Clicker, not one of them.

She smirks but it’s sinister.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll tear out your windpipe and feed it to one of those fuckers.” Her head jerks towards the gate, and as if on command, the lot of them squeal into the night like hyenas.

#ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams au #the last of us part 2 #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie willams x reader #ellie tlou #tlou #works 𖧧࣪#lesbian

423 notes · View notes

disguting-girl-reads · 3 days ago

Text

little tidbits from john winchester's official journal that I like

4 year old dean barely talking after Mary's death

4 year old dean crawling into sammy's crib to sleep with him ("Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam.")

sam and dean sharing a bed as kids ("Sammy has finally started sleeping through the night, and now that Dean shares a bed with him, he's out like a light too.")

Sammy tooking his first steps towards dean ("Sam took his first steps yesterday. He walked toward Dean, then fell flat on his face and started crying.")

7 year old Dean making John promised he will take good care of Sammy while he's at school ("He makes me swear that I'll take good care of Sammy before he'll go to school)

2 year old Sammy asking John to help him make Dean a birthday card

Dean getting his own gun at his eleventh birthday

7 year old sam shooting and killing a deer bc he thought it would hurt dean ("The he tells me that he thought the deer had taken Dean's gun, and that Sammy had to protect him. [...] And now Sammy sees a deer and thinks it's trying to hurt his brother.")

Sam getting a .45 at 9 after saying he was scared of the thing in the closet... but he actually did stopped having nightmares while sleeping with the gun under his pillow

14 year old dean and 10 year old sam stealing a book to gift john ("Christmas in Joplin, Missouri. The boys got me a book that they must have stolen from a shop while I was rooting around in the esoteric shelves.")

Sam asking for a computer at his eleventh birthday (while Dean asked for a gun)

How Sam was already beefing with John at 12 lol ("Sammy is twelve years old today. He's a handful. Spends all of his time on the computer, unless he's arguing with me.")

John sending Dean on his first hunt alone at his seventeenth birthday but staying close by to make sure he can handle it

Also, Dean first sole hunt being a salt and burn of two lesbian nuns lol

John mentioning how 15 year old Sam and 19 year old Dean are not getting along as well as they used to (I have a weecest headcanon about that)

Sam getting his driver's license at 16 but already knowing how to drive since he was 9

Sam graduating at 19 and not going to the ceremony

Sam telling Dean and John he's going to Stanford 5 months before actually going (imagine the tension between them all during this period)

How Sam leaves for Stanford at the end of August, but Dean only mentions cutting off contact with him in November

John overhearing Dean talking about Sam on the phone (probably with Cassie Robinson)

How John would drive to Palo Alto to make sure Sam's alright (and he saw him with Jess)

John's last journal entry is 28th of October 2005. Dean goes after Sam in less than a week.

#samdean #wincest #sam x dean #weecest #teenchesters #weechesters #john winchesters a+ parenting #john winchesters journal

263 notes · View notes

sofiawritesstuff · 7 months ago

Text

Platonic

part 8

summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He's turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.

pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader

warnings: suggestive

You woke up after an amazing night sleep once again, next to Lando.

Sliding out of bed, you carefully detangled yourself from his arms . You turned when you heard him mumble something in his sleep, making you smile.

You quickly got ready, putting on a comfortable outfit for breakfast, a meeting and the flight tonight. As you were both you leave, getting your stuff together you felt a familiar pair of arms around your waist.

You turned to face him, placing a soft on his lips "I didn't want to wake you" he laughs nuzzling his head into your neck

"Couldn't fall back asleep with the cold space next to me" he smiled, kissing you again, this time letting it linger "You're going to make me late" you laugh trying to pull away

"It's Kika, she'll understand"

You kiss him one more time before grabbing your bag "I will be back soon, enjoy your morning and try get packed"

"Have fun Princess"

You close the door behind you, walking down the steps and out the apartment building. Thankfully it was only a short five minute walk to meet Kika.

When you arrived Kika was already sat at table waiting for you "Good morning, am I late?" you ask sitting you bag down "No you're right on time, Pierre dropped me off when he was heading out. Here's your coffee" she smiles handing you, your drink

"Thank you, are you up to anything today?"

"Going to the gym with Pierre and then going home for a date night before I fly back home tomorrow for a shoot. What about you? Going back the apartment to tell your boyfriend you're in love with him?"

You roll your eyes taking a sip of your drink "Don't get me started" you scoff "What did he do? He's not hard to attack, we can team up" she jokes resting her hands on the table

"As much as I appreciate you for being willing to attack Lando, it's not him. It's Zak. Last night we went for dinner and Zak immediately jumped on it saying he was going to get cameras, Lando said no and hung up the phone on him. He was so frustrated with him, we have a meeting with him later"

"I've never liked that guy, but I do have one question"

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck happened between you and Lando? Last time i checked you were too scared to tell him how you felt now you're going out for dinner with him wanting no camera's there"

"Max, Lando and I's friend came over, Lando and I bunked up and we've had a few kisses, it feels so normal. We haven't exactly spoke about it but I think if we're going at the pace we are, it could possibly turn into a relationship"

Kika smiles nodding “I’m happy for you, really happy. Did you guys get flight’s back home?”

“Yeah, we’re leaving after the meeting, I can’t wait to see his family again. We’re staying with them for a few days”

“Does his family know what’s going on between you two?”

“Nope and when Lando tells them I don’t think they’ll react well. They’ve been hoping for us to get together since we were 14 and when they find out what’s going on is PR”

“But it’s not really PR, everything is real. Right?”

“Yeah, it is”

—

When you arrive back home, you return to see Lando running around the place “What have you lost?” you ask, dropping your bag onto the sofa “My charger, hi baby. How was breakfast” he quickly kisses you before returning to his hunt

“It was good, have you checked if you’ve packed it already?”

“Shit, now i remember packing it” he stops walking towards you, how was your date with Kika?” he asks wrapping his arms around you waist

“Good, have you got your laptop set up for your meeting with Zak?”

“Our meeting baby, our. Yeah it’s set up, Actually we have to get online now, are you ready for this”

“No, the last thing I want to be doing the day after you winning is having a chat with Zak”

Lando nods his head in agreement, sighing walking over to the kitchen counter where his laptop was sat, pulling a chair close to him for you to sit.

“Hey guys, how are you?” Zak asks once connected “Yeah we’re great, how are you?” Lando answers “Good to hear, now I’m not giving you guys into trouble but we need you guys out in public more. We’ve got some photos up on fan pages, gossip pages and news outlets but we need more. What are your guys plans this week?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes off camera. Lando looks at you taking your hand

“We’re heading home, this lovely lady has a meeting in the office tomorrow and we are going to see my parents for a few days-“

“Great” Zak interrupts “We will get photographers at the airport tonight, keep me updated where you are guys”

The call ends suddenly, you walk away from the table annoyed heading to the bedroom “Baby, come on. It won’t be that bad”

“No Lando. Im sick of this. It is hard enough being photographed just for being your friend. Now that I’m your “girlfriend” I am being photographed going to an airport. It’s not even been a week, and as Zak said there’s barely any photographs it’s hell already. I hate this” you rant, sitting on the bed

“I know, I hate it too. But it’s three months like this at least, that’s what the contract said. I’m sorry it’s like this. I promise once this is over you’ll never need to see my face again” he wraps his arm around your shoulder

“You know I would never want that, I just don’t want our lives and time together to be decided by a piece of paper”

“Me either Princess, I love what we have going on so much” he leans in “Me too Baby” you kiss him laying down

He moves on top of you, slowly deepening this kiss, humming as you pulled him closer by the shirt “You are so beautiful” he says between kisses, taking off your shirt

He takes his shirt off throwing it on the ground “Lan” you breath “Don’t stop”

He grabs your arms, pinning them above your head as he kisses down your neck.

He stop when his phone rings louding, groaning as he answers “What do you want Max?”

“I was kinda in the middle of something” he answers Max’s question, pulling you close to him. You kiss his chest, leaning your head on him slowly feeling your eyes close

“Look mate i’m gonna” he looks down at you, now asleep nuzzling in closer to him “I’ll call you back later” he whispers hanging up the phone

“I’m so in love with you” he says once he hears your soft breathing

part 9

TAGS

@harrysdimple05 @ironmaiden1313 @charli123456789 @alltoomaples @jule239 @panicsinvirgo @cmleitora @blueberry64857959 @imboredway2much @landoslutmeout @obxstiles @morenofilm @formula1mount @dreamercrowd @brekkers-whore @sialexia @bokutos-babyowl @wobblymug @merchelsea @lexiecamposv @lunamelona @nightlockcornucopia

439 notes · View notes

nosyp · 2 months ago

Text

Twst chars from most to least likely to entertain ur weird bs

Note = by weird bs, I mean like ur random ass behaviours, from screaming random stuff to pranking ppl... This has been in my drafts for a whileee... enjoy

MOST

Ace Trappola

Ace is LITERALLY the embodiment of chaos. He loves to stir things up and will almost always jump into pranks or loud public behavior. His mischievous nature and carefree attitude make him a perfect partner in crime for wild antics. He’ll often initiate chaos just for fun, and his energy is contagious.

2. Kalim Al-Asim

This is a no brainer, he'll literally join in everything and ANYTHING you're doing, no matter how busy he is. He thinks everything your doing is fun and he won't wanna miss it for the world.

3. Cater Diamond

Cater LIVES for content and trends. Anything that promises or even slightly hints at entertainment (or is post-worthy) will have him fully engaged, he's listening as soon as you mention anything fun. He’ll even suggest to turn your antics into videos or memes.

4. Lilia Vanrouge

He literally tricks his friends for no absolute reason at all. ANYTHING that promises trouble for him, he's in. He adores chaos and he'll go wherever it goes and it's going in your direction.

5. Floyd Leech

Floyd loves unpredictability, so as long as your antics keep him entertained, he’s gonna be there. But once he gets bored, you’re on your own so you better keep it fun.

6. Jade Leech

He enjoys watching chaos unfold, and while he might not always start it, he’ll definitely join in. And he's not going to deny entry in your chaos.

7. Ruggie Bucchi

Another no brainer, bro literally tricks people for his own benefit. He is down for fun, especially if it’s harmless pranks or mischief. He loves silly ideas as long as they don’t get him into trouble.

8. Rook Hunt

Rook finds beauty in everything, even your weirdness. He’ll narrate your antics poetically while fully participating, making everything feel dramatic and epic, only further motivating you into doing smt crazier.

In the middle of most and least likely, varies on the situation kinda guy

9. Sebek Zigvolt

He’s loud, intense, and has a strong presence, especially when it comes to Malleus. And while he might not always go along with pranks, he can certainly be swept up in the moment, especially if it involves defending his pride.

10. Deuce Spade

Yes, he might be quite dumb sometimes but he is not like that all the time. But when he’s in a group, he’ll sometimes get swept up in the chaos, but it’s not something he seeks out on his own. He enjoys the excitement but can feel out of place in overly loud, chaotic situations.

11. Ortho Shroud

He'll engage with genuine enthusiasm, analyzing your dopamine levels to determine whether or not he'll join. If it’s wholesome, he’s all in. However, if it’s dangerous, expect him to step in with big-brother energy (even if he's younger).

12. Epel Felmier

Since epel is a bit more rebellious and will join in on chaotic behavior when it suits him. He’s not afraid to break the rules, especially if it’s for a good reason. BUT he might be hesitant to start chaos on his own but will happily get involved if it’s fun or a way to express himself.

13. Jamil Viper

Jamil is composed and prefers to keep things orderly, but he’s not completely against chaos. If it serves his goal or it’s in the best interest of his plans, he will engage but he’s not the first to initiate chaos, but he’ll follow along if it’s part of his strategy or if it helps him control the situation.

14. Azul Ashengrotto

Azul prefers things to be controlled and orderly, and he isn’t one to create chaos just for fun. However, if there’s a situation where the chaos might even benefit him or his business, he won’t hesitate to join in. His motivations are more strategic, so he’s likely to engage in pranks or chaos if it serves a purpose.

15. Leona Kingscholar

Leona is the type to avoid unnecessary noise and chaos, preferring peace and quiet. However, if he’s in a good mood or if chaos is tied to something that interests him, he might engage. He’s not the first to start pranks, but he might join in if he finds it amusing or if it helps him relax.

16. Malleus Draconia

Malleus doesn’t actively seek chaos, but his curiosity and fascination with human behavior make him more likely to get involved in loud or chaotic situations, especially if they intrigue him. He’s not loud or disruptive by nature, but he’ll join in if he’s in a group, or if the situation calls for it.

17. Jack Howl

Jack is a serious guy, but he’s also loyal to his friends. If the situation calls for it or if his friends are involved, he’ll reluctantly join in on pranks or chaotic activities. He’s not one to seek out chaos, but he’ll participate if it’s necessary or if it helps bond with others.

18. Silver

Silver will go along with your antics even though he might not fully understand the point. BUT if it’s too chaotic for him, he’ll try to steer you toward calmer activities, kinda saving u and him from trouble.

19. Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is strict and values rules and order above all else. His temper can get the better of him, though, especially if someone challenges his authority or pushes his limits. He might reluctantly get involved in chaos, particularly if it’s something that breaks the rules, but he’s not someone who enjoys it on a daily basis.

LEAST (No way, nuh uh)

20. Trey Clover

Trey is calm, collected, and extremely responsible. He values order and structure and will steer clear of any chaotic or loud activities. You'll NEVER catch him dragged into chaos, willingly.

21. Vil Schoenheit

Vil is all about maintaining perfection, both in his appearance and in his environment. He won’t tolerate loud or chaotic behavior, as it conflicts with his polished image. He avoids situations that might risk his reputation or status and is very unlikely to partake in any public mayhem.

22. Idia Shroud

It's no secret that Idia WAY prefers to stay out of the spotlight. He would rather stay in his room gaming than get involved in chaotic public behavior. Loud pranks and disruptive activities are his worst nightmare, and he avoids them at all costs.

A/N = The order is so... tacky ew... pls tell me if you disagree or there are any mistakes🙏

373 notes · View notes

ahmadwaleed55 · 2 months ago

Text

Hi friends,

As we bid farewell to 2024 and step into 2025, I wish you all peace, safety, and hope for the year ahead.

While you celebrate the new year, let us not forget the children of Gaza who continue to endure unimaginable hardship. For over 15 months, we have faced ongoing insecurity, homelessness, the bitter cold of winter, and the harsh realities of war.

Thank you all for your unwavering support and compassion your kindness truly makes a difference.

Wishing you all the best in the year to come.

@sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @thatdiabolicalfeminist @sayruq @tortiefrancis @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisectionmoth @belleandsaintsebastian @kordeliiius @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @ot3 @the-bastard-king @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @90-ghost @skatehan @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @variantsofblue @thedigitalbard @socalgal @paper-mario-wiki @nabulsi @lesbianmaxevans @buttercupagere @malcriada @3000s @paparoach @neptunerings @newporters @virovac @postanagramgenerator @alivehouse @meshugenist @mangocheesecakes @2spirit-0spoons-deactivated2024 @wizardarchetypes @gaza-evacuation-funds @rununcal @vampiricvenus @necronatural @sealsdaily @cfo-of-antifa @selflovejolteon @extremelycursedimages @wolf-tail

#free palestine #free gaza #gaza genocide #gazaunderattack #gazaunderfire #i stand with palestine #gaza strip #save palestine #gaza gofundme #gaza #christmas #happy new year

153 notes · View notes

proneterror204 · 10 months ago

Text

Another vampire Cass au

Danny didnt know how this is his life

It all started when his parents, doctors Jack and Maddie Fenton supernatural scientists and monster hunters, got an anonymous tip about vampires being in Gotham. Worse the tip was about one of the worlds most dangerous vampires, Lady Shiva. So with a excuse of a "Family hunting trip" his sister and he were packed and in the GAV and heading for Gotham

What his parents didnt know was that since an accident in the lab with his friends and a black grimoire Danny had been practicing necromancy. Well a subclass of necromancy called Ghost magic. Which he was apparently extremely good at. He couldnt tell his parents they were extremely old fashioned. He could hear his father now "All magic users are witches and warlocks and need to be burned or put to the stake with extreme prejudice".

Danny knew you didn't get "anonymous tips" about vampires, espectialy this vampire. Sure enough, as soon as they entered Gotham, it's ghosts started to warn him that this was a trap. Figures Vlad would be up to some new trick. He could handle whatever the fruitloop had planed.

It happened the first night. They were sleeping in the GAV when *Crack* the GAV was hit and tipped on its side. Despite all his parent defenses (UV lights, Garlic gas, Holy water sprinkler system, and stake launchers) one vampire seemed to dance through it all. Before Danny knew it his family and him were held down and the last of the defenses were destroyed.

Danny looked up from where he was being held on the ground by... ninja vampires? He looked at his family. They had been knocked unconcious with a 'gentle' blow. Then a pair of boots stepped in front of him and he looked up. The real Lady Shiva stood in front of him.

"Daniel Fenton, prefers Danny, Goes by Phantom, 14 years old, male, a virgin, and a powerful spirit mage." She looks into his eyes " you are going to be a great gift for my Daughter"

#vampire cass #cass x danny #dead silent #necromancer danny #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dcxdp #vampire cass!#vampire cass au

433 notes · View notes

raven-cincaide-words · 6 months ago

Text

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓸𝓴𝔂 𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓼

Hello and Welcome to Raven Cincaide's ' A Sweet and Spooky' Halloween & Love inspired prompts for Oktober 2024

Day 1. First Kiss | Campus Crush | Costume Shopping

Day 2. Cuddling | Best Friends | Halloween Decor

Day 3. Distance | Ex- lover | Pumpkin Carving

Day 4. Lying | Rockstar | “What ARE You Wearing?”

Day 5. Love Language | Plushies | Horror Movies

Day 6. Fight/Altercation | Newcomer | Corn Maze

Day 7. Compromise | Soul Mates| Halloween Party

Day 8. Forgiveness | Arranged Marriage | Farmers Market

Day 9. Praise | Status Gap | Pumpkin Spiced Latte

Day 10. Little Touches | One Night Stand | Haunted House

Day 11. Lack Of Effort | Amnesia| Graveyard Dare

Day 12. Talking | Holiday Fling | Carnival

Day 13. Neglect | Forbidden Love | Ghosts

Day 14. Kisses | Trapped | Amusement Park

Day 15. Pressure | Enemies To Lovers | Black Cat

Day 16. Massage | Age Gap | Matching Costumes

Day 17. No reply | Second Chances | Halloween Candy

Day 18. Stepping Out | Oblivious Love | Nightmares

Day 19. Quality Time | Rivals | Trick Or Treat

Day 20. Nights out | Injury | Hunting Someone

Day 21. Anniversary | Rejected | Superstitions

Day 22. Teasing/Banter | Redemption | Horror Books

Day 23. Standoffishness | Different Worlds| Fears

Day 24. Hugs | Dude In Distress | Halloween Cooking

Day 25. Silence | Colleagues| Strange Noise

Day 26. Gifts | Sworn Off Relationships | Rituals

Day 27. Cute Nicknames | Jealousy | Halloween Night

Day 28. Physical Touch |Secret Identity | Ouija Board

Day 29. Little ‘Love you’s’ | Lost Heir| Summon a Demon

Day 30. Patting Back | Pen Pals | Cast a Curse

Day 31. Pick and Mix

I am so excited to share this list with you! It’s a mix of Love/ Angst, Common Romance Tropes and of course Halloween themes! These were originally created with SFW content in mind but it's easy to use them for some NSFW creations as well ;)

After all these are only suggestions but I hope they inspire you to create something this fall season. You’re more than welcome to share, move around or come up with your own prompts based on these. And of course you’re welcome to use the banner if you’d like :)

Also, if you do decide to create something based on these prompts, please tag me (here or @raven-cincaide) so I have a ton of goodies to read while under the blanket with my tea.

So pick a day/ a prompt and lets get writing!

#Raven Cincaide prompts #Sweetober 2024 #SFW kinktober #kinktober prompts #Raven Cincaide Sweetober #kinktober list #Kinktober 2024 #flufftober #fall prompts #love prompts #writing prompt

260 notes · View notes

woso-fan13 · 5 months ago

Text

Whumptober 2024: 14 (Barca)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted”

Frido and Ingrid share a look, communicating across the gym. They’ve been watching as you work yourself way past your limits, and they’ve been trying to hold themselves back from saying something.

You started playing with Frido on the national team when you were 15, and the two of you clicked instantly. As time went on, she introduced you to Ingrid. The women adored you, and you them. They were overbearing and overprotective, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. The two women became your family, and they were a big part of why you joined Barca.

Ingrid and Frido knew this. They knew that you probably would have preferred to stay closer to home, to stay at teams that weren’t as good as Barca but were near family. Instead, you took the leap knowing that the two women would catch you.

So, as they watched you work yourself to an unhealthy place, they couldn’t help but feel like it was their fault. There was a clear understanding as they locked eyes- they got you into this situation and they would be the ones to help you out.

“Skatt,” Ingrid breaks the silence, interrupting your workout, “come sit with me for just a second.”

You want to protest, but you know that Ingrid hasn’t phrased it as a question on purpose. You would end up sitting with her, it was easier to not argue.

As you got up, Frido stood and grabbed a water bottle before taking long strides across the room. She nudged you from where you had sat, scooting you so you were sitting in between them before passing you the water.

“Älskling,” Frido pauses to ensure she has your attention, “Ingrid and I love you very much, and we care about you. You know this, yeah?”

You nod your head, staring at your feet. You can’t look at them.

“I’m saying this because I love you and I care about you, Y/N, you need to take a break.”

At the use of your full name, you look up at Frido. This was serious. Both Frido and Ingrid used almost exclusively pet names for you, so hearing your name was somewhat shocking.

“Søta,” Ingrid pulls your attention now, “you’re working yourself too hard. You need to rest before you hurt yourself.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself, I promise. I need to keep practicing, though, please don’t make me stop,” you beg.

Both women watch as your eyes well up with tears but you force yourself not to cry.

Frido slings her arm over your shoulder, pulling you against her side. For a brief moment you tense up before you relax fully against her. Your voice wavers as you begin to speak.

“Everyone here is so good. I’m trying so hard to keep up and I feel like I’m always two steps behind them. I can’t take a break, I can’t. I’ve worked too hard for them to cut me.”

Silence, for just a moment.

“They’re not going to end your contract,” Frido reassures you. You lean into her slightly more, relaxing at the way her chest vibrates as she speaks, “you’re a good player, and you’re going to be a great player. But you’re not going to get there by overworking yourself and burning out.”

You want to protest, you really do. But your body is slumped onto Frido as she supports your full weight and Ingrid is gently rubbing your back with her warm hand and it’s the best you’ve felt in weeks.

You shake your head slightly, pulling away from Frido.

“I’m not going to burn myself out, but I need to practice. I need to get better if I’m going to be the best.”

The two women look at each other again, clearly unsure as to what to do next. Eventually, Ingrid stands and holds her hand out to you. You give her an uncertain look.

“We’re going to find Ale,” she insists, “if you’re not going to listen to us, you’ll have to listen to her. And I don’t think your captain will like to hear about your reckless behavior.”

Your eyes widening slightly is the only show of fear. You don’t think Ingrid will actually tell Alexia, but you can’t be sure. You’re in so deep now, though, that you don’t really have a choice.

You reach your hand out, latching onto hers and being pulled to your feet. The two of you look to find Frido standing up and following you. You hear her clicking away on her cell phone and you cast a questioning look.

“I’m just calling Magda,” Frido says offhandedly, “Ingrid’s right, I don’t think either of your captains would like to hear about your reckless behavior.”

You freeze now. The tears that you have worked so hard to push down are spilling onto your cheeks and you’re loath to stop them.

Ingrid releases her hand from where you’re clutching on to hers only to pull you into a tight hug. Your arms wrap around her, fists tightening around the material of her shirt.

Footsteps approach from behind you before a hand lands on your back, nails scratching up and down your spine. You melt into Ingrid as Frido continues, the two women keeping you confined from the world for just a moment.

Eventually, your tears fade and you pull away from Ingrid just enough to tuck yourself under her arm and into her side. Frido takes your other side, wrapping her arm over you. You’re easily a head shorter than both of them and something about it makes you feel so safe.

The women begin directing you towards the locker room, clearly ready to get everyone’s things and head home. You knew you weren’t going back to your apartment- not that you really wanted to. Maybe you’d go with Frido, and settle on her sofa. You could doze as she made you food that tasted like home. Or maybe Ingrid would take you home, tucking you into the corner of her sofa and tasking Mapi with distracting you while she made you hot cocoa.

Or, maybe (you secretly hoped) that the two would take you back to Ingrid’s apartment and cocon you in the middle of them. You could relax surrounded by your family. And, after taking one look at your red eyes, you knew Mapi would be up and busy in the kitchen. She’d give you space with the women that you needed before appearing in the door with a tray of some sort of comfort food that she would deposit before grabbing the remote and turning on some mindless tv for the four of you.

“You know,” Frido’s voice breaks the silence, “if I had known all it took was a little bit of blackmail to make you take a break, I would have done it ages ago.”

Thinking back that night, you would have to disagree with her. It wasn’t the blackmail that made you stop, it was the comfort that you knew was coming.

The comfort that embraced you as you leaned into Frido and Ingrid, watching as Mapi tried to get Bagheera to sit- a trick she claims to have taught him.

This was so much better than upsetting your captains.

#womens soccer #woso imagines #reader insert #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso soccer #women football #woso fanfics #woso community #barcelona femeni #barca women #barca femeni #barca #barca femini x reader #reader

195 notes · View notes

redflagshipwriter · 6 months ago

Text

Red Hot Ghouls 14 part 1/2

masterpost

“Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!” Danny read mockingly off the burner phone with only one contact. He felt his eyebrow twitch. “What is this guy’s problem?” He got up in a jerky motion and started pacing around his one room apartment like the world’s most broke-ass tiger. It took three steps to get off the rug and onto the 3 tiles in front of his front door. He wheeled on his heel and did it again, and again, and then he forcibly collapsed back onto his couch in a huff. “What a bitch,” Danny complained. He kicked at the cushion. “Where does he get off talking to me like he doesn’t know…”

His voice trailed off as he accidentally had a thought. The thought happened to him entirely against his will. He really hated the thought.

Like. What if, just as a guess. What if he supposed that Jason the hapless performance-art biker tough guy rough guy had not found his secret identity? What if he had just like, gone out to a dark coffeeshop to read a new book? And from his perspective, some weird guy had yelled at him and made a funny face like a pissy toddler?

Shit. Shit, fuck, and damn. Danny groaned. Was Jason just a local??? Had he walked into that place by chance- oh. Holy fucking shit.

“I am the dumbest engineer I know,” Danny marveled. He looked up at the ceiling and sort of wished it would fall in and kill him instantly. “Jeremy is in Arkham. That implies he committed this crime in Gotham. That would imply his victim was from Gotham.”

Honestly… He had kinda just thought that Jeremy was in Arkham because it was convenient for him. But of course not. No one knew he was in Gotham. If Jeremy knew that Danny Phantom was on Gotham he would have been taking out creepy billboards to beg for his attention and damnation or something.

‘So Jason just thinks I am a total weirdo.’

Pain. Pain. Psychic damage. Danny threw his arm over his face and muffled a scream into his forearm, fucking mortified. Why was he so embarrassing?

‘I don’t actually know that this happened in Gotham; Jeremy could have gone outside of city limits for his little ritual. Jason didn’t ask me to take him to Gotham from the GZ,’ Danny clung to in faint hope. ‘Maybe he really did hunt me down. Or maybe he looked up ectobiologists, learned about my family, and just sought out the geographically closest Fenton.’

…Get real. Come on. Jason wasn’t a detective. The straightest line between two points was the most likely path of events.

He unlocked his phone with numb fingers and started searching for any proof that this guy was a Gothamite.

Jason Gotham

A bunch of Linked in profiles, a bunch of articles about rich people, and a flood of bookface profiles. It was a common name.

“That figures,” Danny huffed, feeling a little stupid for thinking that would work. He blew out a long breath. “It’s not like there’s ever just one guy in the world. There’s a billion Dannys out there for chrissake. There’s a Danny in my Econ class.”

Jason Gotham big strong guy

There was a wrestler from Gotham whose agent was named Jason. Danny clicked through the article to look at the photos just in case. No dice. His Jason was built prettier than the agent or the wrestler, Danny thought absently. Oh. He did have something that a wrestler didn’t, though.

Jason Gotham guns

Weirdly, the Linked-in profiles came back up. Danny was baffled and curious enough to read through a couple. “Gotham is such a goddamn place,” he marveled, eyebrows traveling up. “I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about things like…” Then the penny dropped. “Henchmen get hired off Linked-in?” He sat up explicitly so that he could shake his head in disbelief at the state of this city. “Wild.”

Well. The mission was not a success. Danny buried his face in his hands and accidentally smacked himself with the phone still in his hand. He ignored the stinging of his cheekbone to wallow in self-pity. It would heal up fast anyway.

“I think I need to answer his message,” Danny said. He felt real low. He felt like such a silly bastard. “I have to be smart and feel out if he knows I’m Danny.” He paused. “Danny Fenton, not Danny Phantom. Because I introduced myself as Danny Phantom.” Danny groaned. That seemed like an unnecessary clue, now that he really thought about it.

‘I need to avoid Jazz,’ Danny thought grimly. ‘If she sees me, she is going to sense weakness and find out what I did.’

He mulled over his options for a bit, trying to plot a response that would reveal all of Jason’s secrets and also make sense in conversation.

He failed. “I’m not a smart man,” Danny said conversationally, and sent,

You finished all those books already?? You unemployed, dude???

Jason must have been waiting on him. His response was pretty fast.

Self-employed, actually.

#dead on main #dp x dc #dc x dp #red hot ghouls

207 notes · View notes

flamingpudding · 2 years ago

Text

Masterpost

I think I did enough writing on tumblr that this should be okay to do :D

Update status: 22.11.2024 Updated the existing List and added the Little Snippets Holding List

Account I use to reblog: @flamingpuddingreblogs

Ghost Kid in Ghotam

AO3 Link: Available here, so far [9/?] Parts updated

Warning for AO3: Parts / Chapters might have additional content or slightly changed content after editing. Since tumblr Posts are the Raw Versions.

1. The Beginning

2. Literal Angle Biter

3. Feral brother of mine

4. How to catch a baby brother

5. Thrill and Chirp brother

6. A dead but now revived Son

7. Interlude: A different perspective

8. Ghost Cult Guides and Light Silhouettes

9. Pit Demons aren't pets, now stop biting!

10. No work at the dinner table

11. One Step Closer

12. A Mother's Care

13. Interlude: A Brothers Protection

14. The secrets we keep for others

15. Green and Red Emotions, similar but not

16. ...

The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles

Original One Shot

Shovel Talks - Rowdy Cousin

It started with a Ouija Board

Ouija Board Prompt Idea

Ghost Hunting Vigilantes Part 1 Part 2

Summoning Gone Wrong

Modern (Fenton) Ghost Hunting Part 1

Ghost Twins: Lost in Gotham

Work in Progress...

Original Prompt

Sneak Peak

Drake's family secret

Part #1 #2

Cassiopeia and Orion

Part #1 #2 #3

Sort of completed Posts:

>>Posted Prompt Ideas / One Shot List

>>DPxDC Family Week 2023 Post List

-> AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions

>>Fictober23 Written Prompts List

>>Little Snippets Holding List

#Masterpost

1K notes · View notes

persevereforahappyending · 10 months ago

Text

A Beacon in the Dark |1|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: Slight spoilers from the movie

Word Count: 3.8k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Let’s go!” Ana yelled from the kitchen. “You’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” Caleb called out. Not a second later he came stumbling out of his bedroom, struggling to get the strap of his backpack on his shoulder.

Ana sighed, quickly helping him straighten out his backpack. She handed him his breakfast burrito before ushering him out the door. They quietly walked down the street towards the middle school. She couldn’t afford the nicest apartment, but she was happy to get one within walking distance of Caleb’s school, especially considering she didn’t own a car.

She finally worked up the courage to say something to Caleb when he suddenly took off running. She looked up to see they had arrived at the school. “I’ll pick you up right here at three!” she called out.

“Okay!” Caleb called out, waving a hand back as he focused on meeting up with his friends.

“I-” she began to yell but her shoulders quickly slumped when she saw Caleb smiling and laughing with his friends, not bothering to look back at her. “Love you,” she whispered to herself.

She let out a shaky breath before digging in her pocket and pulling out a little sucker. Things were getting better, well, she wasn’t trying to survive a vampire trying to kill her, she was just trying to be a mom to her son which was a whole other struggle apparently. As soon as she left the mansion, she cleaned off all the blood and went to her son. Frank might have been an asshole, but he wasn’t wrong with what he said to her. She needed to stop making excuses, stop worrying about being a bad mom, she just needed to show up and be a mother to Caleb.

When she showed up on her ex’s doorstep he only scoffed, leaving the door open as he walked away. Ana hesitantly stepped into the apartment, taking a look around, the trash was full of takeout containers and beer bottles. Her ex wasn’t the best by any means, he drank too much and couldn’t usually hold down a job. It was hard for her to admit but he was still a better parent than she was, at least compared to who she was before. He might not have been an active part of Caleb’s life, but he still managed to be responsible enough to make sure Caleb had clothes to wear, food to eat, and that he got to school.

Well, that was putting it kindly, before Ana left Caleb with his father, she asked the nice lady across the hall to make sure Caleb was okay and to call if anything happened. The woman was sweet to everyone, she actually had her shit together, Ana wasn’t sure how many times she ended up so high she’d be late for getting Caleb from school and the woman would walk him home after picking up her own daughter.

The neighbor didn’t hold judgement in her eyes when Ana dropped Caleb off with his father, there was just disappointment. She’s been through a lot in her life but seeing a stranger look at her with disappointment because she couldn’t take care of her own son was the most painful thing in her life.

“Mom?” Caleb had asked. She had been in the apartment less than a minute and was already turning to face her son.

Ana opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Hi,” she finally settled on. “I-I’m back,” she gave him an awkward smile. Caleb didn’t say anything, he just gave her a sad smile and walked back to his room.

It took everything in Ana to not break right there. “I’m here to take him back,” she said, turning to her ex.

“Now you want him,” her ex scoffed. “Whatever, take him,” he gave a dismissive wave of his arm.

As Ana turned to go down the hall to Caleb’s room her ex spoke again, “I want him every other weekend.”

Ana slowly turned around meeting the stupid smirk of her ex. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. She didn’t want him to have anything to do with Caleb anymore, but she didn’t have a right to keep him from his son. As much as she wanted to, she knew if she tried to fight him, he could go the legal route and with her past, there was a chance she’d lose Caleb forever. Her ex might have been even more fucked up than her but on paper he came off a lot better.

Caleb didn’t argue when she asked him if he wanted to come live with her. He didn’t seem overly excited about that idea, but it seemed that he definitely didn’t mind leaving his dads. There was a part of Ana that thought Caleb probably thought he didn’t have a choice, that he was always going to be stuck doing whatever his screwed-up parents wanted. Ana was trying though, she wanted to prove to herself, but mostly to her son, that she could provide for him and offer him a good life, even if she was a little late.

She made sure to thank the neighbor that took care of Caleb before they left, offering to repay her. The lady refused to accept any form of payment and told her to ‘not fuck things up this time’ and Ana assured her that she wouldn’t. It also hurt the way Caleb ran up and hugged the woman as Ana took him away. Caleb hadn’t hugged her since before she left the first time, he hadn’t said I love you since then either.

It had been a couple of months since the whole incident with Abigail and since reuniting with her son. She had an apartment, she walked him to and from school every day. It took over a week for Caleb to begin talking to her, to finally ask her for something. It had been a small victory but a victory, nonetheless. Over the weeks they only got more and more comfortable with each other, Caleb seemed sad to go to his fathers every other weekend and would almost lighten up when he got home to Ana’s. He still didn’t fully open up to her, she heard about his classes and sometimes he’d mention his friends, but he didn’t provide her with too many details. She broke his heart and his trust when she left, she didn’t deserve his forgiveness, but she would work tirelessly to get back whatever he’d give.

“Ana Lucia Cruz?” She heard someone ask, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked around, realizing all the kids had gone inside but she was still outside the school.

She turned around, furrowing her brow when she saw you standing there. She had never seen you before, you didn’t look like you belonged there, your eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and you didn’t seem to be dropping a kid off either. “Who are you?” She asked.

“My names Y/N,” you held out your hand to her.

She kept her hands in her pockets, only sparing your outstretched hand a glance. “How do you know me and what do you want?”

You dropped your hand, tilting your head as you wore a small smirk on your face. “I’m here with a job opportunity.” Ana shook her head giving you an eye roll. “My boss thinks you’d fit in perfectly our…” your smirked deepened. “Particular line of work.”

She scoffed at that. “Not interested,” she brushed right past you, refusing to give you another second of her time.

“The pay’s good!” You called out but she could tell you hadn’t followed her.

She only bothered to give you a wave with the back of her hand. She almost flipped you off, but you weren’t being over barring, so she decided not to be rude. She didn’t care how good the money was, she didn’t care if she was struggling, she knew what you were asking, and she didn’t do that kind of work anymore.

“I’ll be at the diner two blocks over later tonight,” you shouted as she continued to walk away. She shook her head; you were persistent and rather arrogant it seemed. “Just in case you change your mind… Joey.”

Ana stopped dead in her tracks, her entire body froze at the simple code name. That had been her code name on the last job. Everyone who knew her by that name was dead, besides Abigail and her father, Lazar. When Ana turned around you were already gone, not a trace of you insight.

Ana quickly walked home, looking over her shoulder the entire time way, though she never caught sight of you again. The only way you could have known she was given the code name Joey during that job was if you were connected in some way. Abigail did say ‘see you around’ so there was a high probability you worked for her. There was also the chance you worked for her father, Lazar hadn’t exactly wanted to let her go, maybe sending you was a way to keep an eye on her. There was also the smallest chance you worked for Lambert, and you knew about the job before and with everyone else dead you were coming to Ana now.

The only thing Ana was sure of was that you weren’t a vampire. You had approached her outside, in the middle of the day, though you wore sunglasses that wasn’t exactly the most uncommon thing in the world. You also approached her right outside her son's school, right after she had dropped him off, meaning you had been watching her before you decided to approach.

When she got back to her apartment, she instantly plopped herself down on the couch, like she always did now after dropping Caleb off. She opened up her laptop, going straight to her email like she has every day since her last job. The first thing her eyes saw was the little blue dots showing all her unread emails, each email started with ‘we’re sorry’ or ‘unfortunately’ a few even had ‘application has been rejected’. She let out a tired sigh as she began going through all the rejection emails.

She was trying to go straight. No hospital wanted to hire her with her military record. Despite her years of exemplary service, it only took one mistake, one huge mistake. She couldn’t even get a job at the pharmacy in Walgreens or even at a coroner's office. Her only options were seeming to be an at home caretaker, which she’d rather not, she wanted more consistent hours to be able to spend more time with Caleb. That left her with a standard minimum wage job, food service, retail, maybe she’d be lucky, and she could get a job at a 911 call center or something, at least she could be helping people there.

After getting through all the emails she went job hunting again. She spent the hours while Caleb was at school like she did every day, scrolling and clicking for job post after job post, applying for everything she qualified for and all the ones she was overqualified for. She knew they’d come back the same as all the others with a big ‘REJECTED’ at the top of each application. She didn’t technically have a criminal record; she had never actually been caught doing any of her various jobs over the years but stealing drugs from the military was a way to be instantly blacklisted from any legitimate establishment. She was hoping if she applied to enough places, if she wasn’t picky, then someone would take a chance on her, and she could prove herself. She didn’t care what it was, she would start at the bottom and work her way up again if that’s what it took to give Caleb a better life and become the mother that he deserved.

A loud beeping made Ana nearly jump off the couch. She looked around until her eyes finally landed on her phone, where her alarm was going off. “Shit,” she mumbled. She quickly turned off the alarm and ran a hand through her hair before making her way out the door again, it was already time to get Caleb.

She got to Caleb’s school a few minutes before they let out. She set an alarm every day so she wouldn’t forget when she got caught up with something. She got there early in case anything ever delayed her, she never wanted Caleb to walk out of school and think she abandoned him, again.

With where she was waiting, she had the perfect view of the glowing sign for the diner at the corner just two blocks away. It was a restaurant that had been around forever, open 24 hours 7 days a week, it was where you said you’d be waiting. A part of her wondered if you were there now, waiting for her to show up. It annoyed Ana like no other that you said you’d be there that night, as if you expected her to change her mind.

“Mom?” Caleb’s voice came, cutting through Ana’s thoughts.

“Sorry,” Ana said, smiling down at Caleb, who managed to offer her a small smile in return. “Ready?” Caleb only nodded.

The rest of the night went on like all the others, Ana walked Caleb home, she made dinner, and sat next to him as he did his homework. She wanted to be available to help with his homework if needed, though he never asked. After Caleb finished his homework, he went off to his room to play video games and talk to his friends while Ana stayed in the living room. She usually took the rest of the night to apply for a few more jobs.

When she opened up her laptop again, she saw she had already heard back from several of the jobs she applied to earlier, all of them rejections. She slammed her laptop closed a little harder than she meant to, burying her head in her hands as she gripped her hair tightly. She had money stashed away from previous jobs, she opted to save most and get a cheaper apartment, that way she could have it for an emergency or preferably for Caleb to go to college if he wanted, even if that was still around six years away. She picked up the occasional job from her previous line of work, small stuff, such as removing a bullet or stitching up a knife wound. She was trying to go straight, she only accepted simple jobs to continue getting by, but once she found something legit, she would get out of the life fully.

Ana shot up from the couch, quickly walking down the hall to Caleb’s room. She cracked open the door, peeking her head in to see Caleb sprawled out on his bed, half hanging off but completely passed out. She closed the door as quietly as she could, then made her way back to the kitchen. She slid open one of the drawers, reaching in and feeling around the top until she felt the cool metal of her gun. She pulled it out and looked it over before grabbing a clip; after making sure it was full she inserted into the gun and slipped it into her waistband, making sure to hide it with her shirt.

She scribbled a quick note, sticking it on the counter in case Caleb happened to wake up before she got back. She didn’t bother lying, writing that she was simply going to the diner a couple blocks from his school. It was probably a bad idea, she was trying to get out of her previous life, and if you were connected to Abigail or her father in any way, you’d surely be dragging her right back in. It didn’t seem she had any other option though, she needed to at least hear you out and if things went sideways at least she could shoot you.

After a quick walk, Ana pushed open the door of the diner, the little bell at top jingling as she did so. “Welcome in,” one of the girls behind the counter greeted, not looking up as she wrote something on her notepad. “Sit wherever you’d like.”

Ana did a quick scan of the diner; it seemed the only staff was the woman at the counter and the man in the back cooking. The diner wasn’t busy, just a guy at the counter, who seemed to be a trucker based on his hat and the way he was downing a cup of coffee and a few more people scattered, all seeming to be minding their own business, all exhausted from the long day of work. Then there was you, sitting in the far corner of the diner, in a booth, giving you a complete visual of the place and the front door, still wearing your sunglasses.

Ana put on her work face before making her way over to you. The only move you made was to bring the cup of coffee in your hand to your lips. Ana dropped into the booth, sitting across from you. She kept her face neutral as you continued to not say a word, enjoying the long sip of your coffee. “You came,” you said, setting your cup down.

Ana tilted her head, not missing the slight smirk on your face. “I’m leaving,” she said, she could feel the arrogance radiating off you and she wasn’t dealing with that again.

Ana was halfway out of the booth when you spoke again, “Aren’t you curious how I know about you, Joey?”

Ana froze, half in the booth, half out of it, you said that name again. She clenched her jaw before slipping back into her seat. “Who sent you?” she demanded.

“My boss,” you said as if it was obvious. “I told you; they want to offer you a job.”

“Who’s your boss, Lazar?” You only scoffed at that. “Abigail?” Your smirk got bigger. “Lambert?” She raised an eyebrow; she was running out of people who you might work for. You only rolled your eyes at his name. “Then who?”

“Can’t say yet, they prefer their digression, I’m sure you understand.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m done with that life, I’m going straight.”

“How’s that working out for you?” You leaned forward, resting your arms on the table.

Ana only glared at you, she should just walk out of the diner, she didn’t need whatever mess you’d surely bring into her life. “The job I want you for is not what you think,” you said, ending her debate about leaving.

“It’s not something illegal?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. There was no way you knew anything about what happened on her last job without you being involved in similar activities.

You bobbed your head back and forth. “We’re not exactly above board.”

She knew it. Ana nodded and then moved to stand again, she just needed to get out of there as quick as possible. “Wait,” you said, reaching across the table. Your fingers only grazed her arm before she was back in the booth, this time pointing her gun at you from under the table.

“Easy,” you said, slowly taking your hand off her. She knew you had heard the click of the gun. “Let’s not cause a scene.”

“Then let me leave,” Ana said.

“Just hear me out,” you slipped off your sunglasses, raising your hands in surrender.

Ana studied you for a moment, you were calm, much calmer than someone should be, considering she had a gun pointed at you. “You have two minutes.”

“There is another world within our own,” you lost your smirk and had gotten serious. “One full of monsters, which you’ve seen firsthand.” Ana shifted in her seat; her eyes remained unblinking as she watched you. “You survived; you have the skills my boss is looking for to help others.”

“Others?”

You shifted in your seat to lean across the table. Ana’s entire body tensed for a moment, but she leaned closer when you gestured for her to. “There’s a lot more out there than just vampires,” you whispered into her ear.

Ana’s eyes went wide as she moved away from you, leaning back against the seat. “How do you know about that?”

“My boss does their research, this is what they do, they search and scour, listening for unusual reports,” you glanced around as you talked quiet enough for no one to overhear. “Looking for people that get caught up in something they never should have.”

“And you, what, save them?” Ana let out a little scoff. The idea of someone going around and fighting creatures of the supernatural world seemed rather ridiculous.

“We try to, sometimes we’re to late.” Your eyes dropped to the table. “The overall goal is to stop these monsters from continuing to hurt people.”

“So, why me?” Ana gestured with her hand that wasn’t holding the gun, slumping back in the booth.

“Because you survived,” you looked up, emphasizing the last word. “The only ones who understand what we’re up against is the ones who have already survived it.”

“Your boss has been through this?” Ana’s eyes widened.

“Not vampires but she’s certainly been through something similar.”

“And you?”

For the first time since Ana walked into the diner, she saw your entire body tense up. It was only for a second before you leaned back, trying to make yourself look more relaxed. “We all have a history,” is all you said.

“So, what do you want me for?” Ana relaxed her hand that had the gun, she was considering no longer shooting you.

“To offer you a job,” you said again. “It’s not conventional, there might be some slight law breaking,” you gave a little shrug. “But we’ll be doing good, stopping very bad people from hurting innocents. Look, just meet with my boss, she can explain it better.”

Ana tapped her fingers on the table as she took in everything you said. She wasn’t getting a normal job, despite what she would like. What you were offering sounded to good to be true, but she did witness the world you were talking about herself, she knew vampires were out there now. If you were telling the truth, then joining you would allow her to truly help people.

“When would this meeting be?” she asked. Your eyes instantly lit up, leaning forward excitedly as you opened your mouth to answer. “I’m not committing to anything yet,” she held up a finger, giving you a pointed look.

“Of course,” you said. “Tomorrow? I can take you to her after you drop your son off at school, you’ll be back before he gets out.”

Ana let out a long sigh, she still didn’t like the fact that you knew where her son went to school. “Okay.” There was no harm in a meeting after all and if things went sideways, she could still always shoot you.

#joey (abigail)#ana lucia cruz #joey (abigail) x reader #ana lucia cruz x reader #abigail 2024 #abigail movie #abigail #ana lucia cruz (joey)#melissa barrera #a beacon in the dark

274 notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 5 months ago

Text

A Doe in Fall (part 11)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught 📍 (this bitch is getting long) Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Horny? Not this story yet but….Don’t worry, just wait a couple days… 👀 💦

Part 11 Caught

Taking time to cast out the line and wait for the big one to take the bait.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, jaws theme plays, fishing, sweet as fuck, and then not sweet, prostitution yelled into a crowd, rough hands, I won’t say the word ‘paddy wagon’ because the history seems to be targeted at the Irish in America so it’s called a wagon here」

Minors if you violate the MDNI I will toss you back into the river lie the pinfish you are 💥 🎣

Peaceful. Your head on his chest. Even breathes, strong heart. Corporeal. Real. There with you. A ritual to whoever brought you into his embrace, every morning you lied against him and you stared out the window. Past the greenhouse, where the woods were allowed to run wild and you knew the animals therein were safe to exist as they were meant to. Everything and everyone in their element.

His fingers would make little circles and pattern eights along your shoulder blade. Your gaze out and forward, his intently focused on the ceiling fan; then and there.

Occasionally he’d spell a word across your skin to see if you were paying attention. Today: B R E A K F A S T ?

He didn’t want to interrupt the sounds of the radio on the dresser with the half hearted question.

He carried your plate out onto the front porch, the swinging bench as much a perfectly suitable place to eat as anywhere else. You both tended to enjoy the back porch, but he felt an urge for novelty.

As you nibbled, he stared at the car. He didn’t really want to leave, but he wanted to go somewhere with you.

“Can I take you to the water? We could fish. I’m in no rush today.” You were unsure, tilting your head a little when he asked. He had offered before but you admitted you didn’t know how. “You’ll have time to shower before work.” His index finger came over and waited for yours to hook into his.

Alastor was beyond smitten watching you and your trousers bound down his steps. Hand in hand, in the early morning breeze of the impending fall, he led you through his property to the water’s edge.

A small cup of earthworms he scrounged up while you changed, two poles from the shed, and a bucket he hoped would have fish soon enough.

As a child he often ran through the woods of his home and played pretend, and as he got older and his imagination shifted he would fish for his mother. When his friends began to date and pair off, he’d hunt animals in a parallel kind of chase.

They took home gals, he dragged in rabbits.

And when his mother died, and the food he brought home was more than he needed, he stopped venturing past the clearing. That trek home to a bright house, his mother waiting on the back porch surrounded by the chirps of crickets was something he cherished.

But then her silhouette was gone. And the cricket’s song became one of loneliness. The walk to the house now a chore, a thing he had to do to get from Point A to Point B.

Pulling you by the hand past the field and its tall grass, into the shade of the trees where the air was so cool it bordered on wet, he wasn’t so worried about the return trip. No tedium in the navigation now.

Alastor wasn’t loquacious as it were, but when he did feel like talking he talked. He could, and did, name every species of fish that lived in the river. The ones he liked to eat, the ones he liked to look at, and the fish he didn’t care for much at all. His mother’s favorite was bluegill, and he said it was the scariest fish when he was young.

“The fucker has spikes!” He said it like he was introducing a villain, “I grabbed one once and it flexed these spines and I dropped it. I broke a pole trying to beat one to death once because I was too scared to pick it up again.”

You’d never fished. Not because you didn’t care for it, it just wasn’t what you did. Your mother didn’t take you to rivers or the sea. You stayed in buildings and parks near people. You could see the water, just never really interacted with it. Luckily, Alastor was ecstatic to teach you.

He saddled up behind you and explained how to cast out. It took a few tries to get it right, the release of the line a little tricky to get down at first. You could see the shine of the reels and could tell they were expensive and unused. Easily they were worth more than three dollars a piece. He bought two of them… when? The thought brought a silly, crooked smile you couldn’t contain.

“A friend accidentally hooked his own back once.” You watched the way his gaze seemed to soften as he was looking into the distant past.

“I hope he’s gotten better at it.”

Alastor shrugged.

Oh, right… Alastor had friends in a sense, but never had he really introduced you to someone that was remotely important. No one he lit up for, no one he invited over, no one he completely relaxed his put-on smile for. You had to wonder where they'd all gone.

“Do you ever see him?”

He shook his head, “He has a life now.”

Your chuckle wasn’t meant to be cruel, but it came off a little too incredulous, “Do you not have a life?”

He didn't look at you, which was the loudest indicator he wasn’t fond of the question. He cast out his own line, waiting to reply until he could settle, “Sweetheart, do you really think I’ve been living a life compatible with his? Or any of them?” He pulled back on the line a little to feel the tension, “Wives get uncomfortable inviting over single 40 somethings like myself. And I can only stomach so many surprise female dinner guests at such things.”

You felt like an ass.

Being a single man at his age, with a good job, a car, and land, made people uncomfortable. A lifelong chosen bachelor is fine, a rake is expected, but someone who seemed to be disinterested in dating and in fooling around? You could imagine the looks on their wive’s faces, asking questions that were thinly veiled insults.

What do you do for fun?

Is it difficult to find respectable dates when you work in jazz?

So, you’ve never been married, is that right? Not even close?

A mood change. You waited a moment to let silence kill the topic and asked, “What is the catch you’re most proud of?”

He thought for a second before a lopsided grin spread and you felt your heartbeat relax. “A gull.”

“A gull?!”

Alastor cackled, doubling over at the memory. “I threw out my line and as it flew through the air, a gull passing by grabbed the worm. It fought me for a minute before managing to get loose.” He ended up squating, blue jeans rolled up at the ankles and covered in spurs you just now noticed. “It looked as confused as I was.”

The morning was spent reveling in new and useless information about each other. Your fear of dogs, his fear of armadillos (someone told them they had the plague). The time you accidentally walked into a stranger’s home, the time he startled an old woman because he was standing too still in a store and she thought he was a mannequin.

Moments of intimacy intermittently interrupted by a tugging of the fishing line and excited easing in of the prize.

The fuckers did have spikes. You reached out for your first successful catch and the barbs pricked you. With a hurried step back, your short heel sank into the dirt and you lost your balance. Your ass hit the ground hard, and you needed a breath before you could reply to Alastor’s worried questions.

“I’m fine”, just embarrassed, you assured him before picking up your shoe and throwing it, “I have to go home and change out these shoes.” Leftie smacked against the tree with a soft pop.

“Bring over a few pairs, if you have them. I’m sure a pair of mom’s could fit you, you can wear them home. We could toss these into the river. Shoot ‘em. Run em over.” He retrieved the thrown shoe before kneeling to remove the other one. He touched your ankle, eyes shooting up to monitor your face for any pained expressions. “Burn ‘em.”

“First my stockings last week and now my shoes? You’ve gone fire-happy.” You wiggled your toes for his peace of mind, “It’s okay, I don’t have many shoes. We’ll reconcile someday.”

Alastor sat down properly on the grass and dirt of the river’s edge and took off his shoes and socks. You thought maybe he was trying to commiserate somehow, until he shoved the socks into the toe box and slipped one onto your foot.

You warned he didn’t have to do that and he flashed you a look, his smirk alone called you a hypocrite and made you go silent. “You can’t perform with tattered feet or a rolled ankle.” He laced them tightly, “I know where the stickers and ant hills are, I’ll be fine.”

Your eyes wandered over the bucket of water and fish, the worms in their cup, and his bare feet on the grass.

“Who taught you to be such a well rounded gentleman?” A rhetorical question, mostly.

“My mother, of course.”

“Your father didn’t worry you’d be too soft?”

“Ah, apparently not. He left before I was born,” Alaster fidgeted with the straps of your shoes. “He hadn’t considered,” every word was measured, “the realities of,” you could see him searching for the words in real time; this was a conversation he had never had before, “of being with my mother before knocking her up.”

The ‘family planning’ conversation on the kitchen table fluttered back to you.

“Oh, can I have permission to hate him?” Always the easiest emotion.

He clicked his tongue, hands busy looping your shoes together by their straps and then attaching them to his belt loop.

“He left her the house and the land before going. Kept his promise to help take care of me, in that sense. So, no. I think indifference is fair enough.” He grabbed your fish by the tail and placed it into the bucket. “Kinda funny though, had he stuck around he’d have seen how the only thing I got from him was his biggest worry: my complexion!” A joyless laugh, “But I’m just like her in all the ways that matter.”

It came out before you could think it through, “He didn’t love your mother?”

He winced. “Cowards can love just fine, I think. Maybe they love the hardest actually.” You nodded, knowing this wasn’t a philosophical debate where your opinion was needed. “I mean, what kind of man just gives away his only assets?” Alastor leaned over to fix the collar of your blouse, “A scared idiot in love, of course.”

You wondered about ‘family planning’. In their age it was nothing short of guessing and lamb innards. It was impossible to pretend you knew what his father would have lived through had he stayed. But you knew very well what Alastor lived through because he left. New Orleans was different than many other parts of the country when it came to mixed children, but the attitude was less acceptance and more a baseline tolerance for their existence.

The conversation, and shoe change, brought a natural end to the morning. Alastor helped you up, taking the opportunity to brush off your backside.

He led you until the clearing, he knew the land was flat there, and slowed down to let you walk a little bit ahead. The view of the house was much more inviting with you in it.

As promised, a shower. Originally alone, Alastor sitting on the toilet seat talking to you about dinner. Then he got quiet. He startled you a little when he peeked behind the curtain but everything settled when he got inside and his hands wrapped around your waist. Kisses for kiss’s sake. Skin on skin just to feel closer than you were before. A hum buzzing his chest as you hugged him tightly and wasted some water. Well, ‘wasted’ is subjective. The warmth radiating off his stomach rivaled the shower’s spray. You knew there wasn’t time for a nap, but the comfort was so deeply rooted you worried you’d fall asleep in his arms then and there.

His mothers shoes did fit, a pair of her black double straps with a nice wide heel replaced your T-straps and their damned thin one. The offer and action of presenting them to you was bigger than could be acknowledged. It was clear in how he wiped them clean with drilled in focus and set them in front of the bed for you like the main course of a fancy meal. The way they’d been kept packaged and neat in the guest closet.

“Throwing them away seemed a waste. Glad they could be of use.” He said it so casually but it was more than that. When she died he packed away her items and forgot about them. He couldn’t throw them away. It still felt like her house, after all. Who was he to change anything?

It was a little surprise to himself when he offered them to you. It seemed natural at the moment but as he said it his calm heart backtracked. Was that okay to do? Was it disrespectful to his mother? Was it rude to offer you a dead woman’s things? Would you be uncomfortable?

The little strings of worry all cut loose though when you did the straps and said, “I’ll return them in perfect condition.”

He had thought you’d take them forever. But no, that was better. “I’ll buy you your own just like them.”

You quickly buried the sincere sweetness of the moment with a joke, “Finally this long con is paying off!” What else could you do, threading the strap of your beau’s dead, dearly loved mother’s heels? It was like being on cloud nine with lead shoes. Confusingly wonderful and supremely daunting. You were literally walking in her shoes. The irony made you squeeze your arms to your sides to make sure your sweat pads were in their place.

Alastor thought if all you were getting out of this was a pair of shoes, you were definitely coming up in the red.

Negative.

Losing out.

He knew it was a joke, but had it been true he’d build a home on his land and fill it with shoes and dresses and whatever else you asked for. A stage all your own if you wanted. He’d clap and throw flowers at your feet nightly. If you’d let him.

Maybe he could do that anyway. Every night, praise you with his mouth in all the ways he could imagine you’d enjoy.

The analogy carried through as he drove you to work. What was the price of admission and had he managed to afford it yet? Again, he fretted over what he was giving you in all of… whatever exactly this was.

He knew exactly what he wanted it to be and knew very well what you didn’t want. So, letting sleeping dogs lie, he instead considered what you were actually getting out of the arrangement as it stood now.

He’d met women who just wanted a home to pretty up. You had your own space you seemed keen on so he doubted that was it. Sometimes women pursued him for his obvious disposable income. Images of you swiping the hundred off the hotel bar played across his thoughts. No, you seemed capable enough to earn more than your job paid. If anything you seemed to enjoy chasing down marks.

You’d made it clear your thoughts on marriage (“I won’t be bought by jewelry and promises of a pretty cage.”) though he did consider what could ever make you want that legal lock. He’d had friends who would have liked the safety a husband lended their image. Women who didn’t have any need or want for men in general. But things like banking and ownership were easier with a husband. And if he was aware of their preferences, they could still enjoy their love lives as they always had tried to before marriage. Alastor had considered such an offer before. Seriously considered it. It seemed to solve all of the problems he and his lady friend had.

His hands twisted around the steering wheel. He knew, deep in the marrow of his bones, he was always going to be alone. But the tiniest speck of desire to have someone love him and share his life remained buried in the viscera of his reality. So he turned down the sham marriage. What if he met someone inconceivable? Suddenly he would be an adulterer. Which was just hilarious to him. Such a thing could lead to a loss of employment and social shunning.

Plus, his mother would shake her head if he opened her very deserved home to someone purely existing to make a pleasant lie for the world. Disappointment could leak straight from her grave and into the floorboards.

Everyone wants something, though. He wanted to be seen in his entirety and accepted as he was.

You?

Well. All the things you seemed to want you had. Autonomy. Adoration. Attention.

His mind conjured images of you sitting pretty in your trousers in Beth’s. Moments like those, before he knew you, you had all of the things you wanted and seemingly needed. It made you upsettingly attractive to him.

Alastor didn’t want to be needed by someone, he wanted to be wanted by someone who already had everything.

As the car rolled over the bridge and you both made your way into the city proper, his thoughts wandered back to the notion of rings. His mother never had one, so he had nothing to hand down. Would you wear gold, like the necklace you hung on the mirror in the guest room? Or silver?

He suppressed an embarrassed chuckle, he was getting ahead of himself again. Daydreaming while he drove like he always did. But this time you were in the car with him.

You caught him blushing, asking if he got too much sun by the water earlier. Alastor’s eyes went wide and he laughed a forced ‘ha ha ha!’, punctuated by a flat and low “No!”

All you could do was laugh in return when he didn’t elaborate. The way he was gripping the steering wheel made his knuckles go pale through the thin skin of his hands. But the wonky smile he had told you he wasn’t angry.

He gave you a peck outside the theater’s side door, promised to swing by yours after work so you could grab some shoes, and drove off.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Excuse you, you’re not welcome here.”

You heard it but didn’t really register what that implied. Sometimes people tried to sneak in who’d been banned, but it was…not common. The list of people was quite short. You didn’t stop to think of them all, regardless.

You made a habit of calling Ruth by her stage name as early in the work day as you could remember, to avoid any slip ups. So when you called out to her as you worked the room after your performance, she knew to answer.

“Skye, could you bring me some water?” Leaning on the bar you watched her make her own drink, flashing you a wink. She always got tipsy and ended up behind the bar when she was in a good mood. Which was most nights. The staff didn’t mind, the real money to be made was in liquor and whatever could be passed off as beer. So the extra pair of hands was appreciated.

“You’ve been especially happy lately. Good sex?” The glass was slid to you. All you could do was nod. You’d hadn’t actually had sex in awhile, but that wasn’t anyone’s business.

Your smile barely had a chance to slip off your face, your senses too quick for your body to keep up. The awareness that something was wrong hit you fast and hard, but only milliseconds before you felt someone grab you.

Brady’s hand gripped your shoulder and pulled you backwards, something slipping around your wrists as a uniformed cop came around the corner of the atrium. You struggled to get away from him, shouting general protests to being suddenly manhandled. Your voice erupted, the first cannon shot of the war as women and men began to swarm and berate the detective.

Barely a shocked laugh could be choked out from your tightening throat.

“You’re under arrest!” He yelled it, looking at you for just a moment before announcing it to the audience. An actor to his crowd.

“For what?!” Johnny pushed Brady with two fingers to the chest.

“Prostitution.”

A beat of silence as the room collectively gasped. Ruth was the first one to truly lay her hands on him, snatching his hat off and smacking him across the head. The other dancers moved like a school of fish, tucking Ruth into the safety of their numbers with a simultaneous jostling of the detective.

The cop leading you away stopped, “Just her? I thought-,”

Detective Brady dusted his hat off with the back of his hand and shooed the man away. “Just her.”

Before you had reached the glass doors of the theater, you tensed and pulled back. “What the fuck are you doing, Mr. Brady?”

But Brady wasn’t looking at you. He was scanning the room. Staring into the small but fierce roiling mass of regulars, dancers, and staff filling up the doorway in front him and flooding the atrium.

Johnny sized up Brady, getting nose to nose with him, “Show your face here again and we’ll need an ambulance, not a wagon!”

Brady leaned into the confrontation, “Now sir I’d be careful. That almost sounds like a threat.”

“Sure as shit is!” Someone hissed.

“Hey! Brady!” You tried again in vain to get his attention.

“Hush. You confessed to it already, no point crying now.” The cop’s voice was harsh, his disgust barely hidden. His palms were calloused and scratched at the exposed skin of your arms.

“Someone! Someone call-,” Ruth snapped her fingers as the syllables teetered on the tip of her tongue.

Goosebumps rose across your shoulders like little tombstones. Your autonomic nervous system came to a crawl. The grip on your arm tightened as you had to be wretched forward and out of the front doors.

Her eyes lit up, “Alastor! Does anyone have Alastor’s work number?!” Ruth was met with confused faces and shrugs from the others.

You didn’t feel yourself begin to cry, it was a reaction to the fact you hadn’t blinked since you became aware Brady didn’t seem too interested in your reaction to this.

This wasn’t an arrest. It was a trap.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

#hazbin hotel #Alastor #human Alastor #alastor x reader #human Alastor x reader #ADIF #a doe in fall

150 notes · View notes