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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 months ago

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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 9: Some Days He Feels Like Dying]

A/N: Below are your guesses...let's see how you did!!! 🥰😘

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Extraordinary Girl” by Green Day.

Word count: 8.3k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Let’s go back to the beginning of the end of the world.

On the big-screen tv in the Liberty Center at Saratoga Springs, Wolf Blitzer is saying: “We are receiving confirmation of additional outbreaks of the so-called Florida Fever, the first cases of which here in the U.S. were reported in Miami a little over one week ago. Concern is now growing nationally, especially as the modes of transmission, symptoms, and treatment options remain unclear. Let’s go across the country to Natasha Chen for the latest information. Natasha?”

“Hi, Wolf. I’m here outside the UC San Diego Medical Center where early this morning, two individuals suspected to be suffering from the illness were admitted. I’ve been informed by hospital staff that both patients are currently in stable condition, but there is still so much confusion and conflicting information regarding this ‘Florida Fever,’ and of course that uncertainty is leading to fear, rumors, and honestly a bit of hysteria. Even how to refer to the sickness is controversial, with no official name having been decided upon by scientists. Cases in Australia are known as Ragepox, the U.K. has dubbed it the 21st Century Sweat after a mysterious disease from the 1500s, and Russia is calling it the Ukrainian Flu while Ukraine has opted for the Russian Red Rot, inspired by the skin lesions that some patients experience.”

“Can you tell us what we do know, Natasha? Are doctors classifying this illness as a virus, or as a bacterial infection more akin to tuberculosis or meningitis?”

“At this time, what I’m hearing is that doctors are fairly certain it’s a virus, as patients do not seem to respond to antibiotics when they’ve been explored as a potential treatment. But there’s truly very little information at this early stage, and I think we’re all being reminded of those first days of the Covid-19 pandemic, when no one really knew how to best to avoid contracting the virus or what the long-term effects would be both nationally and globally.”

“There are absolutely some similarities, Natasha, which I’m sure is contributing to the unease surrounding the situation. What precautions are doctors currently recommending?”

“Wolf, doctors are urging the public not to panic, and to exercise common sense measures like avoiding crowded spaces, sanitizing surfaces, and staying home if they’re feeling unwell. Suspected cases of the illness should be reported to primary physicians or local hospitals. Typical symptoms appear to include headaches, fever, gastrointestinal upset, skin discoloration and blistering, and unusual bleeding, as well as behavioral changes, particularly disorientation, aggression, and even violence in some patients…”

“That ain’t what it is,” Rio says. He jabs his index finger at the tv from where he sits on the couch beside you. “Snowflake wasn’t sick, he was dead. He was motherfucking dead, flatline, code blue, crossed the rainbow bridge, he was gone. He was dead and then he woke back up, and he wasn’t a person anymore. He was…something else.”

“Dumbass, people don’t come back from the dead,” Mike says from the ping pong table. People are milling around pretending to play pool, darts, chess, poker, Monopoly, Uno, Parcheesi, but really you’re all here for the same reason. You want to know what’s happening.

Rio turns to you. “Wasn’t Snowflake dead?”

“He definitely seemed dead,” you reply, knees tucked to your chest and still watching the tv. Wolf Blitzer’s voice is calm, but his pale blue eyes have a manic sort of light to them, too large and too rattled.

“Man, fuck Florida,” says Desmond, a utilitiesman born and raised Trenton, New Jersey. “Nothing but psychos and alligators. Saw them off of Georgia and just let them float away.”

“What was that?” Tyler replies combatively. He’s from a trailer park in Tallahassee.

“Ty, why do you care? You’d be fine. You’re already up here. You can stay.”

“They’re lying,” Rio mutters, meaning Wolf and Natasha on CNN. “When the corpsmen called the hospital, they said to be prepared to restrain Snowflake and that he might try to bite us. Why aren’t they warning people about that?!”

Kayleigh, a steelworker from Oklahoma City, looses a frenetic sort of laugh. “Because there’s no non-panic-inducing way to say: Hey, go buy some duct tape and bungee cords to tie up your loved ones, because they might try to fucking eat you.”

Rio doesn’t frown often, but he is now; he slips his phone out of the pocket of his camo pants and types out a WhatsApp message to Sophie. You only know her from photos and quick hellos via video chat, a sweet diminutive woman with white-blonde hair and blue eyes that seem to fill up half her face, as fragile as Rio is overwhelming. She likes baking and romance novels and elephants; whenever Rio finds elephant-themed souveners, he ships them home to Oregon for her, refrigerator magnets and wallets and scarves and snow globes. Sophie wears a lot of long flowing skirts and hand-knit sweaters, and offers strange suggestions when she and Rio discuss baby names: Sage, Fox, Laurel, Coral, Juniper, Karma, Rune, Otter. Otter?! Rio had exclaimed. Babe, if you name our kid Otter, even I’M gonna have to bully them.

“I’m telling Sophie to stay with my parents,” Rio says to you. “They’ve gotten super weird with all the off-the-grid stuff, but they have years’ worth of supplies and grow most of their own food now, and they’re thirty miles from the nearest town. And no one knows how to defend themselves like doomsday preppers.”

“Good idea,” you reply, watching the tv. Now Wolf Blitzer is talking about tornadoes in the Midwest, and you could almost believe the world is normal again.

A few days later all major social media platforms begin censoring content related to the so-called Florida Fever, and then the internet goes down completely, and then the power turns off and on and off again, and finally quits like a car driven to its last mile. The combat units are moved out of Saratoga Springs—never to be heard from again—and the construction projects paused indefinitely, and one of the master-at-arms that Rio is friends with (Rio has a lot of friends, surely you aren’t so remarkable) relays information that he shouldn’t: tales of planned missions, impossible plagues, overrun cities, innumerable deserters in every branch of the U.S. military.

“Hey,” Rio whispers, shaking you awake one night, moonlight streaming through the windows and the pops of distant gunfire you aren’t supposed to ask about. “If I leave, will you come with me?”

It’s a big commitment; it could be a lifetime. You fear he might just be trying not to hurt your feelings. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Rio says. “I’m not leaving without you. Are you going to Oregon by choice, or should I tie you up and throw you in the back of the Humvee?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a young one, maybe a teenager, little buds for horns and only weighing a few hundred pounds. This is good; if it was any heavier, Cregan and Rio wouldn’t be able to drag it back to the ranch. You’re still in Red Desert, Wyoming, and the bison are grazing just off I-80, an asphalt artery that cuts through an endless steppe of sand-colored rocks and tall grass. They gaze lazily in your direction with bulbous dark eyes, perpetually chewing, not terribly intelligent. The Colt pistols of the men who found you at the RV had been loaded with 9mm bullets, the same caliber your Berettas take; there weren’t many, but enough to fill both of your clips, something that feels like winning the lottery. You are lying on the rocky, dusty soil and lining up the shot. If you miss, the herd will scatter, and you’ll watch dinner vanish beneath a blue sky—pale like Aemond’s eye, a weak shallow blue—and rough white scars of cirrostratus clouds.

“Feels kind of wrong to kill a baby,” you murmur. Daeron, Luke, Baela, Helaena, and Ice are back at the house. Aemond, Rio, Cregan, Rhaena, and Aegon are here on the ground with you; Aegon insisted upon being brought along, and Rio agreed to carry him. Aegon had never seen American bison outside of the Oregon Trail computer game, those pixelated brown blobs migrating across the screen no more material than unicorns or faeries or basilisks.

“If the baby didn’t want to get killed, it shouldn’t be made of steak,” Aegon points out. He’s on a lot of Vicodin, the only narcotic Aemond could find back in Ogallala, Nebraska.

“No pressure, Chips,” Rio says, chewing on a long blade of little bluestem grass. “If you miss we’re just going to have to eat each other like the Donner Party.”

Aegon wrinkles his nose in confusion. “The what?”

“She won’t miss,” Aemond says, and Rio snickers to himself and gives you a quick wink that no one else notices.

“I don’t think one 9mm bullet will do it,” Cregan mutters. “Cows got thick skulls, I figure bison are the same way. You’ll have to hit it a few times, and before it can take off and disappear on us.”

Aemond casts him a patronizing glance. “And you’ve killed a lot of cows?”

“Oh yeah. Worked in a slaughterhouse for a while before I got hired by the power company. Hated it, went home and could still smell the blood and brains on myself no matter how many times I showered. Couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

Aemond looks like he regrets asking. Rhaena frowns worriedly at the bison. “Will they charge if someone shoots at them?”

Cregan shrugs. “Probably not.”

“Probably?!”

You squeeze the trigger five times in quick succession, hit the calf thrice, tiny puffs of scarlet mist that spring from its woolly head. It flops over as the rest of the herd jolts into a gallop, kicking up dust and fleeing across the steppe.

“Yes!” Rio booms as everyone applauds. “We’re in business! We’re having ribeyes tonight! Cregan, my good sir, I take mine medium rare.”

“You’re getting well done,” Aemond tells him. “Everyone is. Just in case the bison has parasites.”

Rio groans. “You’re ruining my life, man.” Then he and Cregan trot over to grab the baby bison, each of them taking one of its back hooves.

“So,” Aegon says dreamily. “Now that Rio is preoccupied, who would like to assist me in returning my disgusting, debilitated body to the ranch? Anyone? Anyone?”

Rhaena turns to you. “When we have more bullets, could you give me shooting lessons?”

“Sure,” you reply, a bit startled. “Really? You’re interested?”

“Well…” Rhaena hesitates. “Baela’s always been the brave one. At home, at school, when we were shopping, even when restaurants would mess up my order, Baela would do the talking and make sure I was alright…and I would literally hide behind her waiting for her to solve all my problems. And now…with the baby, with Jace…it’s been really different being the one to help her for a change, and I don’t think I’m very good at it yet. But Baela deserves to have people to lean on, just like I’ve always had her. And…when I stabbed that guy in the RV…I kind of liked it.” She titters nervously when she sees the shock on your face. “No, not like that! Not the killing part, or the gushing blood, that was all super gross. But the fact that I helped protect Baela and Luke? The fact that I wasn’t useless in that situation? That was a good feeling. Baela is clever, and she’s courageous and caring and funny, and she’s always been better than me at everything, and I never minded because she…she was like my own personal superhero, you know? But now I feel like I need to start learning how to do things myself so I can help her. Even if Baela is still better at everything, and probably always will be.”

Aegon grins toothily and pushes his neon green plastic sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know how you feel. It’s pretty impossible to look heroic next to Aemond.”

“Stop,” Aemond says, but he’s smiling, and a bloom of bashful pink blood appears in his cheeks.

“You already took over the driving,” you tell Rhaena encouragingly. “That was a big help.”

“Yeah,” Rhaena replies, a bit pensive. “Let’s hope I can keep that going.” Between the gas Aemond found in Ogallala and what was siphoned from the would-be attackers’ GMC Yukon, you got enough fuel in the Tahoe to take it halfway across Wyoming; but now the gauge is not just at but venturing below the E, and it can’t have more than five or ten miles left. That might not even get you to the next ranch, let alone a proper town. You need a working vehicle. There are nearly a thousand miles between here and Odessa, Oregon.

Aegon is pawing at Aemond like a cat. “Come on, hero. Help me up.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“This is why we’re friends,” Rio tells you as he shovels forkfuls of bison steak into his mouth, juice dribbling down his chin. Cregan gutted the bison and butchered it, then you helped him cook the steaks—not very uniform in size and shape, yet no one is complaining—on a pan heated in the woodstove. You fed the fire with books you found in the house, mostly religious in nature. “You convince me not to commit suicide when we’re stranded on a transmission tower, you share your Cheddar Whales, you’re good at shooting things…”

“How did you two become friends?” Baela asks. You are all arranged around the dining room table; there are just enough chairs for everyone. Ice lies beneath it mauling on bison bones that Cregan set aside for her. The room is illuminated by flashlights. Baela looks great: in good spirits, glowing, alert, wearing a loose cotton dress that Helaena found in an upstairs closet for her. Baela napped most of the day, something she rarely allows herself to indulge in, and the benefits are evident.

Rio says nonchalantly: “I talked to everybody and she barely talked at all. So of course I had to investigate and figure out what that was about. Turns out she’s kind of cool. You know the Wheel of Fortune game at arcades where there’s like a hundred little lights in a circle you have to press the button when the one that says Spin Zone lights up? She’s a freak, she can hit it almost every time. Can’t sink a basketball or sing karaoke to save her life, but you know, we all have flaws.”

Aegon looks up from his map, which he is scrutinizing as he eats his bison steak. “Do you realize that if we could just stop at gas stations like back when everything was normal, we’d be in Odessa or the Bay Area in fifteen hours? Literally less than one day. Fucking unreal. And yet here we are trapped in yee-haw country, freaky giant animals, no civilization but Jesus billboards everywhere, hell on earth.” He holds up a palm. “No offense, Cregan. You’re okay.”

Cregan smiles mildly. “None taken, Fried Foot. You know you’re a little well done yourself these days.”

“That’s ableist,” Aegon replies.

“We’ll find gas tomorrow,” Aemond says. He sounds confident because he has to; he’s not allowed to panic, to give up. He’s seated at the head of the table like a patriarch. His steak is the smallest and the most ragged. He wouldn’t accept any of the others.

You ask Baela: “Have you decided what to name the baby?”

“Kind of.” She rests both hands on her belly, a globe like a full moon. Helaena glances over at Baela, frowning and preoccupied. “If it’s a boy, I’m going to name it after Jace. We had already picked out Theodore…and Teddy for short, isn’t that cute? But now…I’d want him to have that connection to his father. The baby won’t have any pictures of him, or videos, or memories, or papers he wrote in school, or ties or rings or cufflinks, or…anything. But he could have Jace’s name.”

The rest of you nod, eyes downcast and feeling terribly sorry for her. “I really like that idea,” Luke says quietly.

Now Baela is thinking, her gaze traveling around the room as she chews on a cube of streak. “I’m not sure what I’d call a girl. Maybe something naturey like Violet, Rosemary, Ivy, Indigo, Fern…”

“You should name it Otter,” you say, and you and Rio erupt into raucous laughter. Aemond smiles as he watches you.

Baela is grinning uncertainly, trying not to be insensitive. Perhaps people named their kids stuff like Otter where you came from. “Um, sorry, what?!”

“That was one of the baby names on Sophie’s list,” Rio clarifies. “I vetoed it. Or at least…I think she agreed to cross it off…? Oh my God, imagine I finally get to Odessa only to find out my firstborn child has been named Otter.”

“You’d have to turn right back around,” you say. “Total abandonment would be the only honorable choice. We’d have to start over someplace else. I’ve heard Texas is nice.”

Aegon snorts. “You can’t live in Texas. They don’t even have legal weed there.”

Rhaena squints at him. “I don’t really think that’s a concern anymore, Aegon.”

Aegon smacks his forehead theatrically. “Oh no, I forgot about the apocalypse again!”

“So Cregan,” Baela says. “You were planning to vote for Trump.”

Everyone at the table groans. “No politics,” Aemond says.

“They’re all dead now, so it doesn’t matter,” Rhaena adds. “Biden, Kamala, that insane Kennedy brain worm dude, Trump…”

Aegon says: “If I was a zombie, I wouldn’t eat Trump.”

“I just found that interesting,” Baela continues, looking at Cregan like she’s expecting him to explain himself. Rhaena and Luke exchange a nervous glance. Daeron reaches under the table to pet Ice; you can hear her tail thumping cheerfully against the hardwood floor.

“I was a Trump voter, yeah,” Cregan replies between bites of steak. Aemond is studying him uneasily, but Cregan’s baritone voice is calm. “That doesn’t mean I approved of a lot of the things he did and said. I’m not a monster, I don’t believe in mocking people or all that January 6th stuff. But he was good for the economy. Back when Trump was president, groceries were more affordable, and houses were cheaper, and more companies were hiring. If I had tried to move out of my parents’ place in 2023 instead of 2019, there’s no way I could have done it. And I really needed to get out of there. A lot of people feel that they don’t have the luxury of voting for the nicest candidate, or the candidate they agree with on social issues. Something abstract like climate change isn’t even on the radar. They have to vote for their basic necessities.”

You and Rio understand what he means, you’ve both met plenty of people with the same perspective; everybody else seems shellshocked.

“But I don’t want y’all to think that I’m…” Cregan looks around the table, his eyes catching—interestingly—on Helaena, who observes him with a fully present attentiveness that you’ve learned is rare for her. “You know, like a sexist or a racist or that I hate foreigners or anything. Because I’ve never felt that way, and now I’m very happy to have found you guys, and I respect the hell out of you. And I want to be allowed to stay.”

“You can stay, Cregan,” Helaena reassures him.

“Yeah,” Rio says. “Especially since we’d probably starve without you.”

Cregan beams, clearly grateful, and there are chuckles and the tension breaks; and Baela is placidly skating her palm over the arc of her belly, and now that you’ve eaten all you can, Rio is spearing the remaining chunks of your steak with his fork and gobbling them down. He doesn’t ask before he does this; he knows you don’t mind. You’ve never understood why he’s given you so much over the past nearly five years. You are eternally offering him atonement.

Suddenly, Baela asks you: “What would you name a baby girl?”

You have to think about this before you answer. “Well, if you’re looking for something related to plants…I had a friend when I was growing up named Briar, and I always thought that was pretty.”

“Briar,” Baela echoes, intrigued.

“It means bramble, like a thorny shrub where blackberries grow. I remember her telling me that her mama wanted it to be a reminder that people go through rough patches and that life gets hard sometimes, but you have to keep going, and eventually you’ll find your way out.”

“Briar,” Baela repeats. “Yeah, that’s kind of neat. I’ll add it to the list!”

“And you’d have the same first initial,” Rhaena says. “Baela and Briar. Isn’t that adorable?”

Baela smiles. “And a few Rs thrown in there too. For Rhaena.”

Rio turns to Aegon. “Hey Honey Bun, if you had to name your kid after a plant, what would you name it?”

Aegon says without hesitation: “Marijuana.”

Now it’s an hour later, and Aemond is examining Aegon’s burned leg on the living room floor, Helaena holding a flashlight and you and Rio standing by for moral support. Underneath the bandages is a wasteland of red, weeping flesh…and yet there are spots where the skin seems to be hardening into white islands of scar tissue. Rhaena and Luke are keeping watch by the windows, Baela is passed out in one of the bedrooms, Cregan is showing Daeron how to put his wavy blonde hair up in a man bun.

Aemond points to a blackish patch on the top of Aegon’s foot, only a few inches from his ankle. “I have to debride this part here,” he says like an apology.

Aegon is afraid to ask. “What does debride mean?”

“It means I have to cut it out.”

“Cut it?!”

“It’s getting infected. I have to remove it or it will spread to the rest of the foot and you could get sepsis. I might even have to amputate the whole leg.”

“Okay, cut the dead stuff off,” Aegon swiftly agrees.

Aemond doesn’t have any more injectable morphine. He gives Aegon as much Vicodin as he dares and then begins working, carving away layers of dark disease with his scalpel and scrubbing the area with disinfectant. Aegon clutches your hand, squeezing so hard it feels like your bones might crunch, shrapnel-like splinters of marrow-stained organic glass beneath your skin. Rio has Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman—once owned by Ava—and takes one earbud while giving Aegon the other. They sing along to Sean Paul songs together, laughing as tears stream down Aegon’s sunburned cheeks:

“Well, woman, the way the time cold, I wanna be keepin’ you warm

I got the right temperature fi shelter you from the storm

Oh Lord, gal, I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl, I wanna be the papa, you can be the mom…”

Now you’re curled up in bed, your arms crossed over your belly as you struggle to fall asleep. Aemond comes to bed late now; each night he waits until Baela is sleeping and then teaches Rhaena about childbirth and recovery: what to expect, what could go wrong. She is a good student, borrowing Helaena’s spider notebook to take notes and asking detailed questions. She wants to know everything she can so she can help when Baela goes into labor.

At last, the bedroom door opens. Out in the living room you can hear Rio asking: “Do you have Wagon Wheel? I love that song.”

Aegon scoffs. “No, of course I don’t have Wagon Wheel. Shut up and listen to your Enrique Iglesias.”

“You are so racist, man…”

Aemond sees that you’re in agony, rummages around in his medical kit, and gives you an oval-shaped white pill to wash down with the can of orange Sunkist on the nightstand; Helaena found a case of it in the pantry. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“I didn’t want to take any Vicodin from Aegon or Baela. They’ll need it more than me.”

“Your pain is as real as anyone else’s.” Aemond’s weight shifts the mattress as he crawls into bed beside you, his arm settling protectively around your waist, his hand covering yours where it rests on your lower belly. “If the Tahoe runs out of gas, will you be okay to walk tomorrow?”

“Don’t worry about me. I had three periods during basic training, I honestly thought I might die. After that I can power through just about anything.”

“I’ve noticed.” You feel the soft smile on Aemond’s lips as he kisses your temple. “Do you want quiet, or do you want to talk?”

“Talking would be a nice distraction.”

Aemond wastes no time. “Do you like kids?”

“Well, since birth control doesn’t exist anymore, I’d hope everybody does.”

Again, he is smiling; you can hear it in his voice. “Okay, but do you intend to have your own?”

“Yeah, I always envisioned myself having kids. I wanted a normal family and figured I’d have to make one myself, DIY it, you know? I don’t think the plan has changed. Gotta repopulate the earth somehow.”

“I wouldn’t try to sway your decision one way or the other. It’s a burden you should only have to endure if you actively choose it. But if you want to have children one day, I’d help you.”

You giggle in the dim orange glow of a single flashlight. “How self-sacrificial.”

“No,” Aemond says, laughing. “Not like, the making them. I mean, I’d help with that too, that aspect would be fun. But I was talking about the delivery, and recovery, and taking care of a newborn. I don’t know everything, but I know a lot. I could help you get through it. So that’s an option I want you to be aware of, if…you know.” Now he pauses. “If you trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if you should,” Aemond murmurs; or at least that’s what you think he says as you lose consciousness, plummeting into sleep as if falling from a great height.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe runs out of gas just east of Tipton—not a city, not a town, just a collection of service roads linking sprawling ranches to I-80, the only continuous route across southern Wyoming—and Rhaena guides the SUV as it coasts to a halt on the shoulder of the highway. You hike about a mile to the nearest ranch house: Luke carrying the siphoning hose and empty gas can in case you can find fuel, Rio carrying Aegon on his back, Baela walking slowly and with great effort, Ice panting as she lopes across the dusty earth. You can’t spot any cattle or horses behind the endless strings of barbed wire fencing. Perhaps they are in a different pasture, or escaped or were stolen, or died of thirst without being tended to, or were consumed by a wandering hoard of zombies, never sleeping and always hungry. The house at the end of the dirt driveway is modest, old, and painted white. The front door is open; the screen door bangs in the wind.

“Rock Springs is the next real town,” Aegon says when Rio drops him to the ground, reading his map.

“And how far is that?” Rio asks.

Aegon deflates. “About fifty miles.”

“Great,” Rhaena says. “What’s the plan, to fly there?”

“Yeah, start flapping your wings, little bird. You’re light enough, you can make it.”

“No car in the driveway,” you tell Aemond. “Nobody home, maybe?”

He’s scrutinizing the house, his blue eye narrow. “Maybe.”

A thought occurs to Aegon. “Do you think ranchers have golf clubs?” he asks hopefully.

“No,” Aemond snaps. Rio is now on the front porch and pounding the butt of his unloaded Remington shotgun against the doorframe to see if anyone appears. Daeron is nocking one of his makeshift arrows as he trots around the perimeter with his compound bow.

Luke, peering through his binoculars, points to a large cylindrical aluminum structure about a hundred yards from the house, by a small red barn. “What’s that thing?”

“It’s a grain bin,” Cregan says. “Full of feed for cattle.” Ice whimpers at his feet, and he twirls his axe in his large, calloused hands. “Are we clearing the house or not? Something’s in there.”

“We are,” Aemond answers tonelessly. “Luke, Rhaena, stay out here with Aegon and watch for trouble. Daeron, you too.”

“Got it.”

“Baela—”

“Can I go inside?” she asks. “Please, Aemond. I’m so sick of sitting around feeling useless and exhausted. I want to help. I want to do something, I’m going insane.”

“Fine,” Aemond agrees. “It should be an easy one.”

It is easy, but it’s not pleasant. The house smells like dark, sickening decay. In the living room are the skeletal remains of two bodies, both children judging by the size; the maroon-stained bones are notched with indents from gnashing teeth. Cregan shadows Helaena as she searches through closets and drawers. She takes no clothing—it would have absorbed the stench of death—but fills her burlap messenger bag with matches, lighters, batteries, pills. She gives you a bottle of Advil before you can ask her for it.

“Thanks,” you say, a bit startled, as you tuck it away in your backpack.

It is not until Ice leads you to the final room, the bedroom at the rear of the house, that you hear the familiar, blood-chilling hissing and moaning of a zombie. It is in the closet, and emerges one limb at a time: one arm and then another, one leg long like a spider’s, streaked with a thick soup of rotting organs that spills from a gaping hole in her belly like the mouth of a mineshaft. Something has happened to its other leg; it is missing, and the corpse that was once a thirties-something woman—a soccer mom, perhaps, with a minivan and propensity to make meatloaf and fish sticks—drags itself across the fawn-colored carpet towards you, slow and pathetic. Ice growls and barks. Rio raises his Remington.

“Wait,” Baela says. Her hammer is in her right hand. “Can I do it?”

“Of course, be my guest,” Rio says; though you can tell he’s slightly disappointed. He loves clubbing things.

Baela approaches the yowling zombie—jaws snapping, claws swiping—and grimaces down at it, this one of millions of monsters that ended the world, that killed Jace and stole all the rest of her life from her too, all those normal things she was supposed to have, all those strings of fate that the plague cut through like a razor and sent floating aimlessly out into the void of the universe. Then with a scream, Baela swings her hammer and a catastrophic impact crater appears in the side of the zombie’s skull, and it crumples to the floor, its mindless brains spilling out onto the carpet.

“Nothing good?” Aegon asks when you reappear in the driveway, popping a Vicodin into his mouth.

“No,” Aemond replies grimly. “No gas, no bullets, no food, nothing to drink.”

“I knew it would be lean pickings once we got out here,” Cregan says, and Aemond looks like he could kill him.

“Well, fortunately, Luke might have some good news for us,” Aegon says with a grin.

Aemond perks up. “Really? What?”

“I saw a truck out there,” Luke says, using his binoculars to gesture to the grain bin. “It’s parked between the barn and the grain thing, I can just see the very front of it sticking out. And if there’s a truck, there might be gas.”

Aemond ruffles Luke’s fluffy dark hair. “Good job, kid.” And Luke lights up like how cities used to look at night, back when the power was on: Washington D.C., Key West, Corpus Christi, Chinhae. Rio stoops down so Aegon can hop on his back, and all of you trek together across the field.

“Nothing,” Cregan announces as he squeezes the little pump on the siphoning hose after opening the gas cap of the ancient Chevy Silverado and threading the hose inside. “Not a drop.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Aegon sighs from where he’s slumped on the ground. His eyes are glazed; he’s pretty stoned. He gazes pitifully up at you; you pat his shoulder sympathetically. You and Rio have already checked the barn, dilapidated but perfectly devoid of zombies. The roof has caved in; one of the two front doors are missing. “What now?!”

“We can go back to the interstate and walk until we find the next ranch,” you say, looking absentmindedly at the grain bin. It’s much larger up close, and rusty in spots. A ladder runs up one side to allow access to the roof. Ice isn’t whining or nudging anyone’s hands, but she’s sniffing the air as if she’s detected something interesting, unfamiliar.

“Yeah,” Luke replies miserably. “We can walk another five or ten miles and then maybe find a safe place to spend the night.”

Rhaena shades her eyes as she peers up at the sky. “It’s past noon already. Maybe we should just stay here.”

Rio barks out a sardonic laugh. “In a house with no supplies and that reeks of dead people?”

“Cregan, go kill us something to eat,” Aegon commands.

He chuckles in his deep, gruff voice. “It’s Miss Chips who is good at the killing, I’m just the authority on butchering at the moment.”

Aemond is watching Ice, his forehead furrowed. “What’s she doing?”

Cregan whistles. “Hey, princess, you okay?” Ice ignores him, still sniffing, her grey ears straight up in the air. Then it appears from behind the barn: a tiny brown creature, a baby bear.

“Aww, it’s so fuzzy!” Aegon squeals, stretching his arm out to pet it. Rio yanks him away; everyone else is backing up towards the grain bin. A second bear cub has now arrived, padding clumsily along, large cartoonish eyes and a little pink tongue poking out from its muzzle.

“Don’t touch them!” Aemond shouts to everyone. “Get away from them! If there are cubs, there’s probably—”

And around the barn comes the mother, a grizzly bear of 400 pounds. She bares her teeth and snarls, saliva dripping in long gluey strings. Ice is barking viciously; Aegon is shrieking and scrambling onto Rio’s back.

“Baela!” Aemond says because she’s closest to him, urging her towards the ladder of the grain bin. She gets the idea and begins climbing. Then Aemond reaches for you. “Come on, you next!”

“Rhaena, go,” you say instead, and she clambers up the ladder after Baela. Cregan is brandishing his axe; Rio has his Remington in his hands, Aegon still clinging to his back like a baby opossum to its mother. Now Helaena is climbing up the ladder, and Daeron nocks an arrow. You whip one of your M9s out of its holster, aim for the bear’s head, and pull the trigger.

Your bullet hits its skull, Daeron’s arrow pierces its chest; and the mother bear does not die but roars and rises up onto her back feet—taller than Rio, taller than Cregan—and then drops back down and charges towards you and the grain bin. Cregan blocks the way, swinging his axe. The bear reluctantly pauses, testing him with swipes of her claws that he evades. Rio is just a few steps behind Cregan, waving his Remington around hostilely. Aegon is screaming and holding on for dear life.

“Don’t shoot!” Cregan yells. “9mm isn’t big enough, you’ll just make her more angry!”

Aemond finally gets a grip on your wrist and drags you to the ladder. You obey and climb until your feet are several rungs off the ground, then you turn to see what’s going on below. Aemond, Luke, and Daeron are at the bottom of the ladder, their backs to you. Cregan is still wielding his axe.

“Fuck off, Mama Bear!” he bellows, standing as tall as possible and swinging his axe above his head. Rio follows Cregan’s lead and holds his Remington aloft. Ice is barking; the baby bears are fleeing in terror. Aegon is sobbing hysterically and saying he’s going to die. “You don’t want us and we don’t want you! Go on! Go get your babies! I’ll put this blade right between your eyes if you don’t change your stupid mind right quick!”

The bear pounds the earth with her front feet and growls, a beastly subterranean rumble, but she seems to be losing her nerve. The rungs of the ladder creak and groan; you see rust like blood-hued moss around the bolts.

“Get out of here!” Cregan shouts. “Go, you hairy old bitch! Go back to your babies!”

The bear glances back to see her cubs vanish behind the barn. Her mouth is open and panting, spittle gleaming on her pointed teeth; her black eyes are uncertain. As you hold onto the ladder with one hand, you have your M9 aimed at the bear’s left eye, just in case. Aemond is watching Cregan; on his scarred face a sharp severity, fascination and resentment and fear.

“Go on,” Cregan says firmly. “Leave us alone. You belong in the mountains, not down here. Go eat something that’s already dead, a nice easy dinner. You don’t want us. We’ll fight you.”

The grizzly bear shakes her head—flopping ears, shaggy fur filthy with dust and pieces of grass—and whirls, lumbering off to find her cubs. When she rounds the barn, Cregan waits a few long, tense, silent minutes and then turns to the grain bin.

“Alright y’all, we oughta hurry up and leave. I don’t think she’ll come back, but she might.”

From the top of the ladder, approximately forty feet off the ground, Baela begins to laugh. “Did that really just happen?! That was insane! Cregan, buddy, you can vote for whoever you want to. You and I are cool forever.”

He smiles up at her, wincing in the bright afternoon light. “I’m very glad to hear it, ma’am.”

Rio sets Aegon down on the ground and stretches his back; it must be hurting him. Aemond is taking your hand and helping you off the ladder, and you are reminded of the transmission tower where he found you in Catawissa, Pennsylvania, one of those middle-of-nowhere places like Tipton, Wyoming. As Helaena climbs down, you go to Rio and—with as much force as you can manage—knead the small of his back with the heel of your hand like you know helps him.

“You okay?”

He sighs loudly, relieved. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Oh, wow, that’s good. Harder…oh yeah…”

There is a snapping sound, metal squealing as it breaks, and by the time you turn to look she’s already falling: her cotton dress billowing around her, her arms wheeling helplessly. It happens too quickly for her to scream—for her to understand what is going on and what it means—but there is a stunned gasp and then she hits the ground, and you hear a muffled crunch of bone—skull?? spine??—and she is completely, unnaturally still as she lies on her back, no pain, no words, nothing.

“Baela!” Rhaena shrieks, and she rushes down the ladder and runs to her sister. You are all gathering around Baela, petrified to move her—to make it worse—but pleading for her to wake up, examining her with terrified eyes. Baela’s own eyes, dark and glassy and serene, are open only a sliver like obsidian crescent moons. Aemond is asking Helaena for a flashlight and then prying them wide, checking Baela’s pupils.

“There’s no reflex,” he says numbly.

“What does that mean?!” Rhaena cries. “Aemond? Aemond?!”

“She’s…she’s…” He’s in denial; he’s in shock. He’s feeling for a pulse on her carotid, he’s digging his fingernails into her forearm to try to get her to respond to pain.

“Aemond?” you say softly.

“She’s gone,” he tells you, like he doesn’t believe it, like he’s waiting to wake up.

“The baby,” Rhaena says. “Try to save the baby.” And then, when Aemond doesn’t immediately understand, she grabs his backpack and begins ripping it off so he can get the medical kit inside. “The baby, Aemond!”

Now he knows what he has to do. He pulls the scalpel out of his kit as Rhaena moves Baela’s sundress to expose her belly. She was wearing biker shorts beneath, lavender, cute, something you might have picked out in a store. In less than a minute they will be soaked with blood. Cregan leads Daeron away, and he’s telling him that they need to keep watch in case the grizzly bear returns, but you think it is an act of mercy more than anything else. Ice goes with them. Helaena, her face pale and grave, is shining the flashlight on Baela’s belly, just beneath her navel.

“Aegon?” Aemond says.

“What? What do you need?”

“I need people to help hold open the incision once I make it. I have to be able to see the amniotic sac so I can cut the membrane without harming the baby.”

“I get it, I’m here, I’ll help.”

Aemond presses the blade of the scalpel to Baela’s skin and draws a semicircle from the top of one hip to the other. There is blood, but it is slow-moving and thick and dark; it is the blood of a dead woman, not a living one. Immediately, Aegon hooks his fingers under layers of fat, skin, and muscle, and opens the wound as much as he can. You and Rio reach in too, and you do this without thinking, without allowing yourself to feel the horror of it until the work is done.

“I can’t see,” Aemond is murmuring. Rhaena gets another flashlight and helps Helaena illuminate the area. Luke is on his knees with both hands clamped over his mouth, his eyes glistening with dread and disbelief. Aemond is slicing, pausing to probe around with his fingers, cutting again. Then his arm plunges into Baela’s abdomen up to his elbow and, with some difficulty, pulls out the gore-covered baby by its feet, a girl, large and limp and silent.

Rhaena sobs, equal parts grief and joy, a smile appearing on her face. “Is she okay? Aemond? Is she…why isn’t she crying? Aemond?!”

Rio yanks off his shirt and uses it to wipe blood and gelatinous clumps away from the baby’s eyes, mouth, and nostrils. Then Aemond takes the shirt and wraps the baby in it, warming her, rubbing her lifeless little limbs. When she does not stir, Aemond lays her on the earth and begins CPR: compressions with two fingers on her tiny heart, two breaths down the airway she’s never used. There are no sounds except his efforts. There is no crying when the baby wakes, because she never does.

Enough, you are thinking, as if from very far away: an island in the Indian Ocean, the Appalachian mountains in eastern Kentucky. Enough, enough, enough.

Aemond stops trying to revive the baby. He picks her up and holds her against him, and no one says anything. There is only the barrenness of the Wyoming steppe, an anemic blue sky, tall dry grass that bows in the breeze, black vultures that are landing atop the barn and the grain bin.

Aegon jolts out of his paralysis and reaches for his brother with bloodied hands. “Aemond, hey, Aemond, listen to me, it wasn’t your fault. Okay? Are you listening? Aemond, man, you did everything you could. You gave them a chance. You didn’t give up.”

But Aemond doesn’t respond; he only kneels there beside Baela’s butchered body, her dead baby girl in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alys?” he calls, seeing that she never came back to bed. He is lying on his stomach, tangled in red sheets damp with sweat. It’s hot, too hot, and there is no humming of the air conditioning. When Aemond picks up his iPhone from the nightstand, it’s still plugged in but only at 87% battery. The power must have gone out.

He gets up, rubs the damp skin by his temple—headache, dehydration—and lifts open the nearest window. It’s odd: there is shouting, distant and indistinct, like the sound of a carnival or a concert. There are car alarms too, and sirens, and horns blaring, all too far away for him to see. It must be because of the power outage, traffic signals thrown into chaos, neighbors relaying the latest information back and forth. That’s the only logical explanation.

“Alys?” Aemond says again, groggy but with increasing curiosity, concern, guilt.

She started to feel sick last night, a pulsing in her skull and chills and powerful nausea. The possibility of it being the so-called Florida Fever barely registered in his mind. Alys gets migraines, and tofu is a migraine trigger, and he took her to a Thai restaurant (maybe he should have known better) and the curry Alys ordered ended up having tofu in it, and by the time she paid the check (as Alys always did) she was swallowing an Imitrex from the box in her snakeskin purse. She said she was going to lie down in the guest bedroom for a while so she wouldn’t wake him if she spent the next few hours dashing to and from the bathroom, a likely outcome, and if he was honest with himself about it, Aemond would admit he was relieved.

He shuffles to the bedroom door—black boxers, bare feet, century-old hardwood floors—and opens it. Now he can hear thudding, like someone tenderizing meat with a mallet. “Alys? Baby, you feeling okay?” There is no answer, only that rhythmic hammering. He realizes that it is coming from the guest bedroom, a door at the end of a long hallway still fuzzy through his half-awake eyes.

It had never felt right, but it had felt good: good in the body when she touched him, good in the soul when she told him he did something right. But lately—especially here, in the vast creaking historic house she shares with her husband and her children, who are presently sailing in Cape Cod—Aemond cannot shake the feeling that this entanglement is a surrender rather than an aspiration, something he fell into and now rests at the bottom of like a swimming pool or the sea, the cold weight of it threatening to pour into his lungs and drown him.

“Alys?” Aemond says, now with profound and inexplicable dread. Outside an ambulance or police car zooms by, sirens blaring. The pounding on the door of the guest bedroom grows faster.

I want to go home, Aemond thinks suddenly. At home, in the Federal-style townhouse his parents rented for him (Criston picked it out, a safe and quiet neighborhood in Beacon Hill, and Viserys paid), Daeron is visiting from California and watching golf tournaments with Aegon on the living room couch, pretending to be interested when Aegon describes the different types of clubs. Helaena, pursuing an Entomology PhD, is researching the Mediterranean mantis, clicking around on her MacBook Pro from the garden in the backyard. Jace and Luke live there too, and so Baela and Rhaena have all but officially moved in, keeping their apartment in Seaport only to have somewhere to retreat to when the Targaryen chaos becomes too much…and so the baby can have its own room. Baela bought a crib, a changing table, a rocking chair, a dresser, and about a million unisex onesies, mostly space-themed. Baela is studying Aeronautics and Astronautics, after all. Maybe one day she’ll work for NASA and fly rockets to the moon.

The door is rattling on its hinges. Aemond’s hand closes around the knob. On the other side is something terrible, and he knows this. But he cannot just leave her. Aemond is not someone who abandons people; he is not someone who turns away from responsibilities.

He opens the door of the guest bedroom, and immediately she is staggering towards him, limp dripping hair and naked like she was interrupted mid-shower: blood bubbling from her gaping mouth and the whites of teeth peeking through the crimson, necrotic skin hanging in strips from her fingers, eyes misty like steam on a mirror.

“Alys, stop! Alys! What’s wrong with you?!”

She’s alive but she’s dead. She’s yowling and clawing at him, but her flesh is the rotting swampland of a corpse. He’s pushing her away; his palms sink into her, places he once noticed and then fantasized about and then at last—euphorically, ashamedly—touched, held, borrowed but never kept. She’s trying to bite him. She’s trying to kill him. None of this is possible, and yet it’s true.

Aemond flings her away, and the woman who was once Alys stumbles backwards and down the staircase, sick wet thumps all the way to the ground floor, bones splitting through dissolving grey skin, organs sloshing around until they spill out. He can hear her still hissing, flailing, trying to get up again.

Without thinking—slipping seamlessly into what he learned during his psych rotation is called automatic action—Aemond races down the steps and grabs her by the skull, cracks it against the antique hardwood floor she once extoled the value of as he fucked her on it: shipped east from Oregon and laid in 1912, the year the Titanic sank. When she lurches up to try to bite him, he slams her head against the floor again and again until she is still.

Then Aemond kneels there alone for a long time, sirens shrieking outside, far-off strangers screaming for help, putrid black blood clotting on his hands.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

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hischeapcigar · 1 year ago

Text

the rock in our throats

Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem reader

Summary: Joel and Y/N face the society reacting to their age-gap.

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: MISUNDERSTANDING-TROPE, ANGSSSTTTTT, SMUT SMUT (these are definitely not in order or you’ll be spoiled) MDNI

a/n: im back with another Joel fic!!!! This is a whole rollercoaster so buckle up!!! Also know that Snow, Lace girls) and Lock (boy) are three of my OCs, I named them after inanimate objects just so they don’t offend anyone with the same name. <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Feet with their mind of their own carried you downstairs with a speed of light. You had heard Joel’s truck pulled in the driveaway, causing you to abandon the book you were reading to keep your mind from racing about his arrival.

Just as your feet planted on the floor, your eyes fixed on the door as it slightly pushed open revealing the man you had hopelessly fell for two years ago. He hadn’t acknowledged you as he quietly shut the door. Turning around, the pair of warm brown eyes set on you, when he sees you standing there in your pajamas, adoringly staring at him, his face softens.

He dropped his bag, a sigh of relief escaping his lips and within a heartbeat you launched yourself at him. Arms flying around his neck as his hands gripped your waist, steadying you.

“Missed you so much” you mumbled in his neck. He tightened his grip on you at the admission.

Joel had been to San Antonio for a week to negotiate a contract with a customer.

“Me too, baby,” he whispered, bringing his right hand to stroke your hair

You pulled away as you realized he must be tired, but before you could ask anything, he pulled you into him,

“Shouldn’t have stayed up, ‘s late” he placed a kiss on your lips that you were quick to deepen. You sighed as he lightly bit your bottom lip.

“Mmm, couldn’t sleep without knowing you made home safe,” you smiled up at him, “you hungry?”

He shook his head no, loving the way you treated him like a child and cared for him.

“Not hungry, back pain ‘s all, wanna sleep”

You smiled drop as he gently tugged you towards the stairs. Your small hands in his much larger ones. He led you to the bedroom you shared for the past month,

Moving in with Joel after almost two years of hidden relationship was a way to make it official to everyone that you both were together. Though whatever you had anticipated could happen, did happen; continual discussion of your age difference, about him being divorced, about you being naive, about him being a father.

Given that you both placed a high priority on your relationship, you hadn’t truly heard the gossip by your own ears. However, you had observed the glances that were directed towards you on two separate occasions when you and Joel were present at the mart.

His steps halted in front of Sarah's door, “she was good?” he asked over his shoulders.

You nodded your head, “Joel she’s not a kid, of course she was alright,”

He pulled you in the bedroom, as you continued, “Plus i think since i moved in, we’ve bonded even more”

Joel was quick to introduce you and Sarah once you both had confessed the love to each other. And Sarah was quick to welcome you in her life. It was perfect among you three. It was your perfect world. Except that you had to face the world outside your bubble, which was a little too far from perfect.

Joel turned around to peck your cheek, “so proud ‘f my girls”

My girls. You smiled

You were his. You belonged with him. With them. The fact still released butterflies in your stomach.

Joel took off his shirt and winced. Your facial expression displayed a distortion of worry which Joel was quick to observe, “back’s hurtin’ is all, don't worry,'' he smiled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling your forehead close to his lips to place a chaste kiss.

“We need to get some gel, Joel” you reminded him

This is how you found yourself standing in the mart, in front of the shelf with gels. You had dropped Sarah school before heading here. Joel was asleep when you both left. Sarah wanted to meet her dad but you suggested that she lets him get enough sleep and meet him when she returns from school, to which she happily agreed.

Skimming your eyes through the rack, you found the one you were looking for, Voltarol. You grabbed one and walked toward the counter. You picked a few snacks on the way there.

“y/n?” you heard a lady call your name

Turning around, you met none other than the most gossipy woman of the town, Nancy.

“Hi!” you put on your best fake smile to greet her

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, eyes already prying your arms. You could have taken a basket but snacks weren’t planned.

“Oh, just snacks” you shrugged, you kept your answer short, avoiding the long conversation

“And, what’s that? A gel?” she asked earning a groan from you,

“Yeah, Joel’s got a back pain so i figured-”

“Of course!” she exclaimed startling you

Looking at your furrowed brows, your confused stance she continued, “I mean,” she sang, “Joel’s old. Don’t you think you’re too young to settle for that old man and tend to his back pain?”

Your heart sank at her words, and more at the amount of venom that dripped from that single sentence alone.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too nosy in others’ decisions?” you spat as you moved to the side,

“Jeez, relax! You’re turning into an old grumpy woman. Maybe something about the company-”

You left before she could say more. The longer you stood, she would’ve fed you with her sick mindset.

Of course Joel was old. But that never lessened the love you had for him. You had been with guys around your age and all you ended up with was a broken heart and then came Joel, treating you like a real gentleman would.

You both took sufficient time to make a decision about living together. Your relationship being a secret never attracted comments but once the news spread through the town about you and Joel living together, every other mouth was murmuring about you both.

Staying in most of the time had its perks; you never found out about all the gossip. But it could only last so long.

You paid the cashier before hurrying to your car. Settling in, you took a few deep breaths.

She’s just being mean. I won't let her ruin my day. Her words don’t mean anything. Joel and I love each other, that's what matters the most.

As soon as you closed the door, entering the house, you were met with silence. Joel‘s still asleep.

Placing the snacks on the counter you climbed the stairs, a gel in your hand, and a planned massage for him in your head. You opened the door to see Joel lying on his stomach. With his moments you could tell he had woken up and then his voice sounded,

“Where’d ya go?” eyes closed, he muttered, his voice hoarse. You crossed bed to stand on his side,

“Dropped Sarah, and picked this” you grinned, showing him the gel

He squinted his eyes to read the label, “darlin’ you didn’t have to” he turned around to lay on his back.

“Of course, I had to!” you tapped his legs, urging him to sit up. He obliged without any protest and god did you love it when he was submissive to you, knowing the outside world would never see this soft Joel.

“Still hurtin’? You asked as you noticed a slightest distress in his face as he sat up

“A little” he grunted

You tugged at his shirt, “off” you demanded

“You don’t have to-” he looked up at you as he rubbed his eyes

“I know, Joel. I want to” you softly cut his sentence

He layed back on his stomach again as you straddled his legs. Just having him naked except for sleeping boxers, totally submitting to you, sent a tingle down your core. But you ignored it. Your only focus was to make Joel feel better.

You squirted some gel on your palm, setting the tube on the side,

“I’ve never done this before,” you warned him,

“Neither have I, honey,” his muffled voice giving rise to a small giggle leaving your lips

You carefully splayed your hands on his lower back as you spread the gel. the delicious combination of the hotness of his skin mixed with the coolness of the gel stirred something in your stomach,

Focus. Focus. Focus

You pressed your fingers in his muscles, feeling the knots. He moaned at the relief.

“Felt so good,” he muttered,

You continued massaging his back, digging your fingers wherever you felt the stress. Taking notes of and following what brought him pleasure, you moved your small hands through his back and shoulders. Occasionally scratching his back with your nails and pulling the sounds of pleasure from his throat.

All the sounds he made did not help, but only worsened the condition between your legs. You felt giddy, knowing you made him feel this good.

You only prayed that the wetness between your legs didn’t seep through your thin pajamas and on his skin. Because this was about him and him only. Completely oblivious of Joel's situation underneath you, that after a few digs and dips of your fingers he started getting hard and by this time he was rock hard.

“Baby” he breathed, “st-stop” he started to move, his cock taking control of his brain,

You were startled, immediately getting off of his legs, “did- did i do something wrong?” you asked innocently,

He laid on his back as he stared at the ceiling, his breaths heavy “no darlin’, you did a good job, ‘s jus’-” he huffed as he took your hand and placed it on his member

Your mouth hung open as you felt his cock through his boxers, your mouth salivating just at the imagination,

He looked at you, waiting for you to say something,

“Good thing I know how to take care of that too,” you smirked as you moved to hook your fingers on the waistband of his boxers as you slowly, teasingly, slid them down, closely watching his reaction change.

“That’s my gir- mmph”

As soon as his cock sprang free from its confines your gaze immediately left Joel’s.

His angry reddened tip, decorated with beads of his precum stood hard. You wasted no second in stradling his laps. Your petite fingers wrapped around his member, thumbing on his tip; spreading his leak through the length. You pushed your hair to one shoulder as you bent forward, maintaining eye contact with Joel’s hooded eyes, you kissed the tip, earning a strangled moan.

You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. His eyes begged for more. You hollowed your mouth, taking his length in your mouth. Your fingers toying with his base. The taste of him was the first taste of your day. His hand made its way to your hair, guiding your mouth; in and out.

“Jus’ like that, baby” he praised

He grunted when you twirl your tongue around him, his cock twitching letting you know he’s close.

“Such a good girl, f’ me,” you watched his eyes closed as he bucked his hips in your mouth, losing himself in the pleasure.

You quickly removed your mouth, saliva spilling from the sides of your lips,

“Eyes on me,” you demanded and god did that turn him on

“Y-yes mami, please continue” he struggled to keep his eyes open, with your plush lips wrapped around his thick cock.

He guided his cock to your throat causing you to gag. He smirked, repeating the action until tears spilled from your eyes. He used his free hand, gently wiping the tears.

Perfect combination of rough and soft

You were soaking wet at this point, his dick in your mouth, hand fisted in your hair, and his sinful moans and grunts in your ears.

He guided your head away, as he manhandled you and in a split second your positions were switched. You gasped as your head hit the soft pillow while Joel towered over you, on his knees.

“That…was impressive” you breathed as Joel connected your lips in a feverish kiss.

“I’ve still got some strength y’know,” he mumbled as he pulled away slightly before he captured your lips again. It was nothing soft and slow but all teeth and tongue fighting for dominance.

You would've just giggled at his response but instead you felt a pang of hurt in your chest,

Joel’s old. Her voice rang in your ears as you blinked your eyes to focus in the moment

Joel grumbled tasting himself on you. Too lost in the kiss you missed when his hands slipped to your sides, pulling down your pajamas and panties in one swift motion.

You broke the kiss, “Joel” you took a deep breath, his eyes finding yours, waiting for your command, “fuck me wreckless”

His smirk grew at the command, “yes, m’lady”

His fingers found your cunt in an instant. You moaned at the contact of his calloused fingers with your aching center.

He circled your clit a few times before plunging his middle finger knuckles deep without a warning,

You screamed, “of fuck, Joel-”

“M gonna wreck you, darlin” he grunted as he drove his finger in and out while his thumb pressed on your pussy, making you squirm,

“Nngh feels so good” you moaned,

“So needy, huh?” his eyes glued to throbbing pussy and the juices it squirted,

He added another finger, building the pressure and maintaining the pace. You felt the knot in your stomach tightened.

“Close, mmh Joel, i'm close” you struggled to speak, your knuckles turning white as your gripped the sheets beneath you

You arched into his touch, your legs started to tremble as you felt the climax reach. He used his strong free arm across your stomach to keep you in place as he assaulted your cunt.

“Cum for me, darlin”

And you did, right then and there. You closed your eyes as you screamed his name like a prayer,

“Look at me” he ordered and you blinked away the tears that had formed in your eyes to obey him,

He held your gaze as he lowered his mouth and lapped the juices you had released. He devoured it as the first meal of the day,

“Taste so good,” he mumbled more to himself

He drank every drop until you finished. Your chest heaved as he climbed on top of you and connected your lips,

You both moaned in unison as you tasted yourself on his lips,

“Ready?” he asked as he guided his cock to your entrance

You nodded your head,

“Words” he spat

“Yes, yes Joel, I'm ready!” you whined,

And he slipped in, inch by inch until he was balls deep.

He had fucked you countless times but his size always surprised you and your pussy always hugged him like the first time.

“So fuckin- tight, this pussy,” he grunted as you adjusted to the size

“Move” you croaked and he obliged, setting a slow and steady pace,

“My pussy,” thrust “mine to ruin” thrust, harder, “mine to love,” thrust, harder and faster,

Your walls clenched around him at the words, at the possession,

He had picked up the pace, fucking into you relentlessly. It wasn’t usual he fucked you this hard but you asked for it, and you were glad.

“So thick” you breathed

He sat on his knees as he wrapped your legs around his waist, holding you there, pounding into you through a different angle, brushing your g-spot everytime.

“Right there, yes” you bit your bottom lip,

“Don’t hold back, darlin’ let me hear you” his pace was unbelievable, you felt nothing but him. The coil tightened in your stomach, it was embarrassing how quickly he was pulling another orgasm out of you, splitting you in half,

“Joel, can i cum–”

“Not yet darlin” he stuttered

The feeling was a lot, you tried your best to hold back. The feeling of his cockstretching your walls, his balls tingling your inner thigh in every thrust. Your thighs twitched, as he held them tightly around him,

“Joel, please-” you begged,

His thrusts started to become sloppier, his cock twitched inside you and he nodded,

“C’mon baby, milk my cock,” he urged

That made you trip from the edge and you came, harder. Your mouth forming incoherent words between his name

He never stopped his movement throughout your high, only when you were done did he spill his seeds, covering your insides with his release.

He let go of your legs as he collapsed over you, making sure to shift his weight to his elbows

He looked ethereal, post sex suited him so well. His skin glowing with sweat and morning light. His brown curls were a mess. He placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, then lips, “you ‘kay?” he whispered

You nodded, too blissed out to reply verbally. Too much in awe of his soft, sweet side.

He pulled his cock out and you both winced. He pecked your overstimulated cunt once causing you to shiver before he left for a cloth.

He cleaned both of you, murmuring praises on your skin as he wiped your legs.

“Wrecked ya, huh?” he said as he observed your fucked out state,

You hummed in response, “forgot you even had a back pain”

“What back pain?” he feigned confusion as he tossed away the cloth, causing you to giggle

You knew you couldn’t share your encounter with Nancy at the mart, you knew he was already silently insecure about the age gap.

Joel was quick to return to work after his trip to San Antonio. He headed to a bar with Tommy before returning home. The brothers conversed about a deal that Joel had made.

“Hey, there’s Frank, wanna come?” Tommy said, looking over Joel’s shoulder.

Joel turned his face to see Frank talking to a woman before bringing his attention back to his neat whiskey,

“No, ‘m a’right here” He grumbled, watching Tommy leave from his peripheral vision

He downed his half empty cup before he ordered another. He zoned out looking at his whiskey, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass.

A low grunt beside him caught his attention, turning his face and he was met with Arthur ordering his liquor.

Joel returned his gaze to his whiskey and taking a sip,

“Howdy, Joel? How was San Antonio?” Arthur asked

“Was fine, made a deal” Joel replied, already wanting an out from his company. His head is already cloudy from drinking.

“And how’s ya little thing doing?” Arthur leaned, instantly causing Joel to lean away. He wasn’t sure he heard it right

“What?” Joel barked,

“Ya know,” Arthur swung his wrist gripping the glass of whatever he ordered, he shrugged, “that sweet little y/n-”

“Watch your mouth” Joel growled

“All i’m saying is she’s too young, deserves someone who can actually take care ‘f her” if Arthur was any sober he would’ve shut up after Joel’s first warning, but he just mindlessly continued,

Joel’s bore a hole on the side of his head with his intense gaze, his grip tightening on the glass as he watched Arthur speak, “jus’ feel bad for her, stuck with you–”

Joel gathered Arthur’s collar in his hand,

POW!

Joel’s fist collided with Arthur’s jaw in a swift motion.

“- and when i told Chris about it, he was equally appalled and said, no offense” Lace lightly held your arm before quoting her boyfriend, “it’s a phase for you and that you’d get over Joel, either way its- ” you gaze shifted to Snow who stood beside Lace, offering you an apologetic smile,

Snow and Lace were your best friends since school. Snow never judged you for your relationship with Joel. Lace, on the other hand, did not always agree with your choices even if she did love you.

“Lace,” you began, cutting her rambles, “i’m happy, isn’t that enough?” you sighed, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

The three of you were at Millie’s, one of your mutual friends, birthday party. It was your first public appearance after moving in with Joel. you were too scared to join but Lace and Snow were adamant about you joining them.

Few of the girls asked you weird questions but thanks to your two friends who cornered you to avoid more conversations.

Lace was quick to notice your eyes, as she took your hand, “of course! but-”

“No ‘but’s, we’re done. I think I should head home, it’s pretty late,” Snow announced, your gaze darted to the clock, 11:45 stared back at you.

“Yeah, i’m leaving too-”

“y/n?” it was, Auburn, one of Millie’s friend who you met twice at parties, you knew she cheated on multiple boys just because she thought she was too good for them, “wh- are you guys leaving already?” Auburn looked around the three of you,

“Yeah, can’t stay out late, y’know” Snow carelessly answered as she fished something from her bag, leaving the kitchen

“And let me guess, y/n, you have to go home to your old man?” Auburn directed at you

“Well, at least I have someone to go home to,” you knew it was a cruel jab, but you didn’t care at the moment.

She gasped, clearly taken aback, “Wow, the old man-”

“It’s Joel” you interrupted, to which she only rolled her eyes before continuing,

“Yeah, poor Joel, i mean, having to deal with you every single day, God, i’d be damned”

Before you could reply, Lock showed up at the kitchen door, “hey, I was leaving, ya need a ride? Snow’s in the car” He was one of your close friends.

Lock got a nod from you before you pointed at Auburn, “Maybe you need to grow up,” you muttered, already heading out of the kitchen before you heard her voice, “don’t go falling in love, it’s all about good fuck-” you shut the door behind you,

You quickly got into Lock's car, not bothering to bid anyone goodbye. Your vision was glossy, you held back your tears through the small distance to your house,

It was around 12 when you stepped in the house, the television was on in the living room. You peeked to see sarah on the couch,

“Sarah, what are you doing up?” your voice was harsher than intended,

She jumped and you almost felt guilty for the way you scared her,

“You’ve got school tomorrow, go to bed. Now.” you scolded watching her turn off the tv as she muttered a small ‘sorry’ heading upstairs.

Joel still wasn’t home. And as an unspoken rule, you didn’t want to go to bed without him, like he doesn’t without you.

You removed your earrings, placing them on the table before you slumped on the couch,

The voices in your head growing,

Is this wrong?

Why can’t they keep their noses out of my relationship decisions?

Does Joel feel that I'm way too young for him?

Is he embarrassed too?

The longer Joel took to come home, the louder the voices became,

Does Sarah get questioned about me and Joel?

Does Sarah still like me?

Does Joel still-

You heard the door unlock and you brought yourself up. Joel stumbled in, you knew he had a few drinks. Quickly you got up to hug him and to have him silence the noises in your head,

Too disappointed about your night, you didn’t notice the bandage on his knuckles, or the sour expressions he wore, as you moved your body to hug him,

His figure stiffened against you. His hands coming up to your arm as you shuddered under his touch,

“What’s wrong?” he muttered as he stroked your hair, putting aside his pain to try and heal yours.

You shook your head, not wanting to feed his insecurity, “party was a bit exhausting” you lied

“C’mon baby,” as he moved you both toward the couch, “ya wanna talk about it?”

You straddled his lap burying your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent of whiskey and cigarettes

His hands traced your back softly and you whimpered, you loved Joel so much.

You picked your head up to face Joel. He looked tired. Nevertheless, one of his hands cupped your face and instinctively, you placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist before intertwining your fingers with his, and that's when you felt the skin of bandage under your fingertips,

“What happened?” it was your turn to be concerned

He stayed quiet for a beat, both of you looking in between you, your intertwined hands but feeling miles away emotionally,

“Just a random cut, nothing serious” and it was his turn to lie,

That was the turning point of your relationship.

“C’mon let's go to bed,” Joel suggested,

The next few weeks went by the same. Everywhere you went, they talked shit. Sometimes you defended but other times you were tired of talking back knowing they won’t stop either way.

You noticed how Lace kept pushing Lock to you. Always calling him over when you had plans with her and then leaving quickly so you and Lock can spend some time alone. He was a nice guy, but you only saw him as a friend, nothing more, nothing less. And Joel knew it too.

But oh when he kept getting “with Lock” as your response to his “where ya at”, did he start to feel otherwise. Almost everyday at work he was defending his relationship with you, and after knowing you’re with Lock most of the time, he started believing the criticisms.

“Things alright between you two?” Tommy carefully asked Joel one day,

“Yeah, why?” Joel didn’t remove his gaze from the contract paper in his hand,

Tommy shrugged, “i don’t know, been seeing her with that Lock guy a lot these days so–”

“Look good together, don’t they?” another man chirped in, but as soon as he received a deathly glare from Joel he backed off immediately. But the words stuck with joel, look good together

That night when you clung to him, like you always do, he didn't reciprocate. The voices in his head were getting loud and you weren’t there to silence them.

“Where?” he snarled

It was just another rough night for the two of you. Joel had canceled plans with you because work buddies are insisting on game night , delaying it to the next week. Both of the times Lace and Snow had swung by. With Lace reciting her “you deserve better” mantra.

Earlier this week, Snow had asked you to go shopping for her vacation. And you couldn’t say no, given she had dropped her things just because you were depressed when Joel canceled the plans for the second time.

If he could, why couldn’t you?

“Shopping” you put another popcorn in your mouth as your eyes fixed on the movie.

You were upset. You were mad at him. And the whole week had passed without Joel noticing it. Maybe it was about time.

You felt his eyes on the back of your head. You wanted nothing more than to turn around and make up for the lost time. Clear all the distance that had somehow forged its way between two of you.

But you didn’t. You resisted. You wanted to check your and his limits

“Of course, and Lock is gonna be there” Joel scoffed, placing his hands on his hips where he stood at the back of the sofa you sat on.

That hit the button instead. You exhaled a shallow breath, not believing your ears,

“What is that supposed to mean?” you turned to face him, his typical annoyed stance in display for you; fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know very well,” his eyes met yours for a brief second, before he moved to exit

To say you were furious was an understatement. You abandoned your popcorns and movie as you scurried away to chase him,

He faced the cabinets before he heard your angry stomping in the kitchen.

“What the fuck, Joel?” you barked

He just stood there, leaning against the counter. His arms folded against his chest as he glared back at you,

Frustration bubbled inside of you. Taking a step closer, you let the anger get the best of you,

“You fucking canceled on me for sake of your buddies,” you were fuming, “you didn’t even notice me being upset” you voice rose with every sentence, “and now you’re accusing me?!”

“Lower your fucking voice!” he roared causing you to shudder,

“You’re unbelievable, Miller” you back stepped to the door of the kitchen before you left

As soon as you stepped out of kitchen you spotted Sarah sitting on the sofa hugging her legs,

“You guys are fighting again?” she mumbled

Your heart shattered at her state. You were quick to sit by her side, engulfing her in your arms,

“Oh no, honey,” you kissed her hair, “it’s just- you know- we don’t always agree on the things” you caressed her hair

She sniffled, facing you, “so- so you’re not leaving, right?” her wet eyes shining with hope and that was not helping to your breaking heart,

Your throat tightened so you stuck with shaking your head ‘no’ and a tight smile

Few minutes had passed and Sarah was already asleep on your shoulder. You calmly woke her so she doesn’t hurt her neck in that position. Tucking her in the bed, you closed her door and were met with Joel.

He stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He jerked his head in the direction of your shared bedroom, asking you to join him, and so you did.

Once the door closed, he turned to you, grasping your small hands in his,

“I’m sorry” he croaked, “for everything,”

You looked up at him and gave him a sincere smile as you nodded, “let’s go to sleep,”

None of you talked about your feelings. None of you shared about the insecurities that you both had regarding each other. None of you reached out for the other to cuddle.

“I’ll wait outside, you can grab whatever you need, yeah?” Joel said as he digged his wallet for his card

You only nodded as taking the card and hopping out of his truck, rushing into the mart.

Joel lit a cigarette as he watched you from the driving seat. He knew this was all wrong. It was a lose-lose situation. He couldn’t be with you openly, scared of more rude comments towards you (he could manage the ones thrown at him) but still everyone was aware of your relationship and hence, bringing up the topic out of nowhere.

You, on the other hand, were embarrassed, feeling Joel didn’t want to be seen with you. You both had moved past the point of discussing your feelings and knee-deep in the mess

Once you returned, Joel tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to pull away. It was like a reflex and you almost regretted it. Almost.

He cleared his throat in an awkward way, “uh- you’re still up for Bill and Frank’s party tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I’ll go there with,” you swallowed, too hard to push the words out of your mouth, “with Lace,”

Joel took a double look at you, “uh, any specific reason?” he asked trying his best to stay calm,

“Yeah, she wanted me there to help her with outfits and make up so i might as well leave with her,” you shrugged, nervously tugging on your nails.

“Okay,” he said lowly, almost as a whisper,

“Don’t make dinner tonight” Joel said a few hours after you both had got home,

“Why? Are you with your boys tonight?” No matter how much you tried to keep the anger at bay, somehow it slipped,

Joel sighed, as he walked to you, his eyes trained on you. But your gaze couldn't meet his. As if you were hiding something, like you were not honest, except that you were. You were just fed up with your fights with Joel. Fed up with not sharing thoughts like you used to.

“No, I'll get take-out on my way back,” he said. Your brows furrowed, “We’ll just relax and maybe watch a movie, your choice. How does that sound?” he explained his plans for the night,

You nodded, “okay, sounds good, but can we maybe dine out? There’s this pretty place-”

“Baby, I really want just the two of us, we can go next time, ‘kay?” he pressed his lips on your forehead,

You gave him a tight smile, “sure”

All you wanted was for him to love you openly. All he wanted was to keep you from any and every hurt even if it meant he had to avoid being seen together. If only you both spoke your feelings.

“Honestly, I think he’s not opening up to you because you won’t get it since you’re young, y’know?” Lace said as she fixed her dress, “Do you really think you’re the best match for him? Woman his age are dying to marry him,”

You tried to stop another flood of tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your eyes were already swollen from the crying you had today at Lace’s because you were watching your relationship with Joel fall apart. It was all perfect when the world didn’t know. The bubble had bursted.

“You’re right,” you sighed,

Joel didn’t really prepare for his appearance as much as he did for the looks thrown his way when he moved with you. You and him didn’t know how to handle the criticisms and that had your relationship at stake.

He arrived at bill and frank’s and eagerly started to look for you. But you were nowhere to be found. He had texted you but there was no response from you. Were you even coming?

He met with his friends and like a habit, everyone asked about you.

He stepped on the front porch, desperately escaping from endless questions and trying to muster up excuses of your absence. Two shots in, he felt his brother hand on his shoulder, “heartbreak?” Tommy asked as he sipped his whiskey,

Joel only grunted in response, not really paying attention to his question, “so when did it happen?”

That had his attention, “what?”

“The breakup and that” Joel followed Tommy’s gaze.

You had just gotten out of the car and stumbled your way inside. Lock’ hand pressed to your lower back as he guided you inside the house. Lace quickly trailing behind you both, struggling with her own dress.

Joel’s lips parted in shock. How could you do this? What was happening? The liquor had started to dizzy his mind.

The look on Joel’s face was enough to let Tommy know that he was oblivious to the situation just like him.

“There’s someone I'd like you to meet,” Tommy said carefully, and convincingly.

Joel eyes took a few seconds before moving from the door from where you had just entered the house,

He just nodded in response, before he chugged the entire bottle in one go.

He was mad. He was disappointed. He was angry. But most importantly, he was hurt. But one thing about him, he was a hard person to go and confront. Why would he do that when he can do things he won’t remember the next morning?

The last sober thought was you. Then the rest was alcohol in his veins controlling his mind.

—-----

You left Lace’s apartment as you hurried to Lock' car.

“Hi, Lace is coming, told me to go,” you said as you greeted him,

Lace took solid 10 minutes before she appeared on the entrance door of the building. Those 10 minutes you listened to Lock talking about some girl he’s madly in love with and will ask her out tomorrow. She was a friend of your friend, she was nice. You were genuinely happy for him.

You were on your way when you checked your phone. You didn’t realize you had missed a text from Joel. You swiped to reply to him, telling him you were on your way. But Lace snatched the phone from you,

“Enough using phone for tonight,” she grinned

You instinctively chased her hand and turned to the backseat. Unknown to you, your dress had stuck in the door.

Rip.

You heard and felt your fabric tearing from your back. With your shocked expression, Lace was concerned,

“I think I ripped my dress from the back,” you said slowly, reaching your hand on your back and you felt your skin. “Oh my god, I just ripped my dress!” you cried,

“Is it something a needle and thread can fix?” Lock asked as he tried to calm the chaos you both had created,

Lace inspected the ripped part, “i think so, i can do it but where do we get the needle and thread?”

“Frank has it,” Lock informed,

Your face was contorted in worry, your phone long forgotten,

“Okay, Lock you cover her way up to the restroom, I’ll go get the things I need from Frank,” Lace ordered as you all got off the vehicle.

And so you all rushed in. Your mind was directed to; will Lace be able to fix my dress?

You didn’t greet anyone as you bolted toward the restroom. Lock stayed outside as you rushed inside. Lace quickly returned and fixed your dress.

“And all done!” she said excitedly

You turned your neck to the mirror to see that indeed she had done a good job.

Leaving the bathroom, you parted ways with Lace and Lock as you went out looking for Joel.

“Hey! Have you seen Joel?” you asked Bill,

“Why yes, he’s finally got some sense back,” he tilted his glass in Joel’s direction,

There stood Joel, no, there swayed Joel in the arms of a stranger. Joel’s arms linked loosely around her as her’s around his neck, pulling him closer,

“perfect match,” Bill added,

Your lips parted to say something but no words came out, “wh-” you began but were immediately cut by Bill as he clicked his tongue and shook his head,

“Don’t go ruining a good thing now, kid,”

You couldn't avert your gaze from the scene in front of you until it was blurred by your tears.

“Excuse me” your voice shook, as you turned away, tears spilling as you ran to the restroom again.

How bad you wished you didn’t leave the restroom, or that you left a little later until he detached himself from her.

Did he really fall out of love? Did he really let them dictate him? You wanted to go and confront but-

You broke down. Bad.

You didn’t mind your makeup, that you put on with precision, smudging. Your knees hit the bathroom floor as you cried your eyes out.

The ringing of the phone caused you to take a break. Taking out the phone more tears fell from your eyes as Joel’s name displayed on your screen.

The ringing ceased and a text followed a few minutes later,

Joel: Where are you?

You scoffed at his text. You wanted to go to him and scream at him. But you didn't want to give in to all the people who told you this was never gonna work. Sure your relationship had gone down the hill since last month. But was ending the relationship really better than running in a circle every other day? Loving Joel only in the boundaries of your house?

You wanted to go home, Joel’s house, and move out. This wasn’t going to work. You had decided. The thought of officially ending the relationship pulled new strings of tears from your eyes as you texted Lace about going home before you stuffed the phone in your purse.

Just like you had entered, keeping your gaze lowered, you left the exact same way. You heard the unmistaken sound of a voice calling your name but you couldn’t stop and turn. No, you kept moving.

You exited the main gate and walked on the side of the street. You were walking quickly, wanting to go away from him as fast as possible. You heard the familiar voice called you again,

“What is it, Joel?” you seethed as you turned around.

You looked horrible, you knew it but you couldn’t care less right now.

Joel eyes widened at your appearance,

“Jus’ wanted to ask, how long have you been with Lock?” he whispered as if even he was ashamed of asking the question. He looked down, prepared for any answer that you had to offer

Your heart dropped at his question, “what?” oh how bad you hoped you heard it wrong,

“Ya heard it,” he muttered, “i saw you both, ‘s okay, i understa-”

Before he could complete his sentence, you had walked up to him, staring deep in his eyes, “are you fucking kidding me right now?” your voice was low but hid a menace beneath it,

Joel stayed quiet, he looked at you but his eyes were empty.

“Are you serious, Joel?” your voice shook, all of your power was used up at keeping your tears from falling,

“How about you tell me about you dancing in someone else’s arms?” your voice rose and you pushed him back, “was that what you've been doing in my absence?!” you hit his chest, “tell me!” your voice wavered and once again the dam broke, “tell me Joel!”

The sides of your fist kept colliding with Joel’s hard chest as you let everything out, “tell me why were you so embarrassed of me? Of us?” joel stayed silent as he received your weak punches and watched the tears stain your face

“Tell me where did we go wrong?” you energy had drained before you slowly uttered the last question

“When did you stop loving me?” that was his last straw, as he held your wrist just as you were pulling away,

“Don’t” he said firmly, “anything but that”

“We’ve fallen apart,” you croaked, “Gonna take a miracle to save us this time-”

“I still love you,” he promised

You shook your head as your released your hands from his grip,

“Then tell me why didn’t I feel loved?” you whispered

Joel once again fell silent, “I-” he shook his head, wanting to wake up from the worst nightmare,

His throat tightened, he wanted to tell you that he wanted to protect you. But your outburst told him the only way you would’ve felt protected was if he held your hand in front of everyone.

He began, not knowing what to say but his mind screamed one thing,

Don't say goodbye, don't say goodbye

You wiped the tears from your face as you took a deep breath,

“Goodbye, Joel”

You turned and walked away as Joel stood still. The wind blew cold against his skin.

Did he throw away the best part of his life?

It’s alright, Just two hearts breakin’ even tonight

You’d go and get on with your life, he’ll get on with his’, broken hearts can’t call the cops, it’s a perfect crime.

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hiraethwa · 1 year ago

Text

one summer day

00 guidepost. where it all begins

>> 01 clear skies. | << the collection >>

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: my first writing in a loooong while, hope you enjoy! word count: 650 warnings: none... yet

may, first year

as a musician, you hear the lilting melodies in little everyday activities. the rhythm of volleyballs hitting the ground as the team warms up, the clicking of mechanical pencils in a quiet exam hall, the birds chirping outside as you sit in class listening to the teacher. you don’t find it particularly useful nor distracting, it just is. just as you are.

since joining shiratorizawa’s symphony orchestra, you found yourself immersed in your new afterschool activity instead of staying on at the gym waiting for your brother to finish up practice. not that it was bothersome, you used the time to do your homework before you get home anyway. unlike your brother’s club, orchestra almost always ends on time, and you still find yourself back at the gym, tapping out the melody that you have been practicing in the orchestra.

with two years between you and your brother, he is already in his third year while you just started the school year as a first year. he is the official setter for the boys’ volleyball team since his second year, which you supposed made him one of the best setters in the region since shiratorizawa is in itself a powerhouse school for volleyball.

semi eita, heir apparent to your brother, spies you watching from the railing and waves to you as he runs back from retrieving the ball. you wave back at him shyly, wondering if his fans would be coming after you. you have known him for more than a month, in that short time, he has garnered a sizable amount of fans despite not being a starter for the team. the whole laying low in high school plan is not happening, it seems. despite being his friend, it’s not like you’re fully immune to his boyish charms either. though you suppose that his fans have it worse than you do.

your brother had introduced the two of you after their first practice of the new school year. you had peeked into the gym half an hour after the supposed practice end time, thinking it was probably safe enough as most of the players should have left by then, only to find him giving some pointers to semi on setting.

by then they had already noticed your presence. “come in, y/n, there’s someone i’d like you to meet. this is semi eita, i think he is in your class,” and so you became friends with an otherwise popular, untouchable boy.

your attention turns to the other first year playing on the court.

you distinctly remember him running up the stairs to retrieve the stray balls that happened to bounce up to the second floor, and you were caught like a deer in headlights. although your brother told you it was fine to watch from there, you were not sure if it was actually allowed.

“sorry! my brother told me it was fine to be here.” you had bowed to him before passing the balls that you had collected.

he had looked at you with the most puzzled expression before asking in a gruff voice “who are you?” at that question, you had immediately apologized again, unsure of whether you were about to be reprimanded for being where you should not be, left only your first name, and ran out.

later on, when you were walking home with your brother, he had laughed at you and called you stupid after you told him the whole thing that happened. but you were intrigued by the unnamed boy, by his olive-mud colored eyes that reminded you of your favorite hojicha drink, by his voice that left this strange tangled mess of melody in your chest.

“onii-chan, who is he anyway?” you pouted at your older brother, and turns out, he is also in your year. you had thought that he was in his second or third year, judging by his large build and the strength that sent the volleyball ricocheting up to the second floor. “ushijima wakatoshi. it looks like he will be our next ace.”

ushijima wakatoshi. even his name has a sense of steady strength that left you admiring the way it rolls off your tongue.

and so that tangled seed of song silently takes root in you.

looking for more? browse the collection

let me know what you think in the replies! i would love to hear your thoughts :)

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codenamesazanka · 1 year ago

Note

I need help writing the league of villains for a fan fiction. Like can you give me tips on to write their dialogue and stuff like that

Thanks for the ask! Here are some things that I think would be helpful, but please be aware that it's my approach to writing the League the way I interpret them. I'm sure there's people who finds my fic wildly inaccurate in terms of characterization. Sometimes I go back months later and disagree with my own stuff, given new information or outlook. You'll have different interpretations than me, and that's okay. And thus,

Tip #1: First of all, it’s fanfic, it’s fun, and it’s yours. You can do whatever the heck you want! It does not matter at all what you do with the characters, their dialogue, their personalities, their relationships, etc. I’ve read plenty of AU fanfics where I could not recognize Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko, despite the character having the name, but I still liked the story okay. Really, it’s all up to you and what you want.

That said, to actually answer your question:

Tip #2: Re-read the manga. Read the scanlations - multiple versions from different scanlation groups. Read the official. No version will be perfect, some are better than others (Viz Official has its issues, but it is done by a professional translator and I tend towards it; Fallen Angels (Chapters 1-150s) was the first to scanlate and iirc they even included translation commentary at the end of their chapters; I found mangastream to be more accurate than Jaimini (Chapters 150-250s)), but having a variety of translations will give you insight into the intention of a dialogue, and different ways of achieving it. Read the original Japanese, if you can.

Tip #2.5: Best way to figure a character, I find, is to describe the panels they’re in as if you’re writing a very plain, objective, impartial image description. Now you have an overview of their outward behavior, their actions, their dialogue. Using that, you have the basis for developing their motivations and personality. It’s the difference between ‘Shigaraki used gamer lingo a few times here, so he is a gamer... therefore he’s obsessed with games and that’s all he does’ and ‘In the first 100 chapters of the story, despite speaking sometimes like a gamer, Shigaraki is actually seen reading newspapers rather than holding a game console’.

Put another way, don’t assume generalized descriptions or traits for a character and write them based on that. You risk writing a trope or archetype or situation rather than the actual character.

When a loved one dies suddenly, people will be in shock, before sobbing and weeping uncontrollably. That’s generally true, but the character may manifest grief in a different way. Someone close to Toga is killed - what does she do? You can write her breaking down crying, that’s perfectly reasonable. But if you look at the manga, when Twice is killed, she doesn’t cry right away. She gets angry; she lashes out. She’s deeply hurt by his murder, of course! But the tears she sheds for his passing are few in the immediate aftermath - her grief mostly takes the form of slicing Heroes’ throats.

Tip #3: Read everything else, for inspiration, for background knowledge, for tone, for your own gain outside of fandom.

Just the other day, I read Real, the wheelchair basketball manga by Inoue Takehiko. Its three main characters are marginalized by proper society - two because they’re disabled, one because he’s a high school dropout - and there were moments where I was reminded of the League’s situation. In the first chapter, the high school dropout makes a final visit to school where his teachers didn’t think much of him, and his classmates looked down on him. As he leaves, he thinks to himself that everything he does ends in failure and he’s an idiot, all the while he takes a dump at the school gates as a parting gift.

While I can’t see anyone from the League doing that exactly shot for shot, the spirit of it - being seen as a fuck up, being unwanted, being defiant in face of that, even in a inadvisable way - is similar.

Tip #3.5: Another book I’ve read years ago is Codes of the Underworld: How Criminal Communicate. It was very informative, and I think back to it sometimes when I write for the League.

Criminals face severe constraints on communication imposed by the action of the law, and, unlike the rest of us, cannot easily develop institutions aimed at circumventing them. This central feature of criminal lives makes communication and above all reliable communication exceptionally hard to sustain. For instance, the same secrecy that protects criminals from the law hinders their opportunities to advertise their goods and qualities… In the underworld, moreover, punishments for mistakes and irrational behavior are harsher than they are elsewhere. In the world of regular business, failures of communication can lead to a loss of business, but in the underworld they can result in years behind bars, or worse.

I don’t follow it exactly, because the League is in a children’s fantasy story, and maybe this was obvious but now that it was written out to me, I know how to give the Villains an “edge” to them that a non-Villain might not have, because as Villains, they do often logically would to be secretive and brutal and cautious. Dabi walking around in broad daylight meant their hideout was discovered and All Might literally took down the wall to the bar; a breakdown in negotiations with Overhaul meant Magne dying and Compress getting his arm blown off.

Tip #4: Related, let the League be assholes, because sometimes they are. Let them be mean and cruel and problematic. Sometimes they’ll be jerks to each other. Nearly all of them grew up in bad circumstances where they probably were not taught important lessons and details about respect and boundaries and being nice. They are definitely not going to be aware of the intricacies of fandom's (oft-American and oft-terminally-online) consensus about problematic behavior. And that’s fine.

I remember once receiving an ask about why Shigaraki would pull Twice’s mask off in Chapter 224. Wasn’t that terrible of Shigaraki? Yeah, it was. It was also the quickest, most efficient way to get Twice to quit his arguing with the rest of the League, so Shigaraki can announce that they are going to rescue Giran (what Twice was arguing for). After that, he puts the mask back on for Twice. If you ask me, I’d say Shigaraki thinks this evens out - he does something mean that he knows will freak out Twice for a moment, but it’s because he’s arguing for Twice’s side, and he’s putting on the mask back at the end.

You and I would likely never do something like that because we know taking away someone’s important assistive aid, even for a moment, hurts them and we don’t want to cause them pain for even a second if we could help it/there’s not ‘evening it out’/it demonstrates a power unbalance that perpetuates ableism/there are other ways to stop someone and grab attention/we know not to touch someone even the slightest without permission/etc. But does the character you’re writing know all this? Does he care? Does he think it’s worth following these rules? Does he have time for it, does he have incentives for it, does he have the lucidity, does he think he’s an exception because of this and that, etc, etc.

A lot of things, most people often just don’t know until they’re taught to be specifically aware. As an example: When I was younger, I knew broadly that taking things without permission was bad; but what if I took these pair of scissors from my friend’s desk and used it and put it back before the owner knew? The owner is my friend. They once told me it was okay to take it, so it counts even today, right? It was just a pair of scissors, a common household item. My friend did not care; still does not care. But knowing what I do now about things like violations of boundaries, explicit consent, the continuation of these concepts for the most trivial and mundane things even in the deepest of friendship or familial ties - I feel the need to ask to use something. That’s me and what I’ve learned through the years, though. It’s probably not going to be [fictional character].

And sometimes the League are just bad people. Shigaraki tried to kill Toga and Dabi at their first meeting. Mr. Compress is seemingly a-okay with kidnapping and murder despite his ancestor being more of a Robin Hood type. Spinner likely knowingly doomed his family to even worse ostracism and harassment from his fantasy-racist hometown when he ran off to join a group of well-televised terrorists.

That’s also fine. They’re not real. They’re fictional Villains, and you’re temporarily using them as hand-puppets to tell a story.

Tip #5. For dialogue, it helps knowing what each character’s voice/speaking style sounds like. Some basics:

Shigaraki:

“Shigaraki speaks with the normal masculine contracted speech, but with a sinister tone. Surprisingly not very cussy. He likes aggravating other people though.”

Caleb Cook notes that Shigaraki talks like an overgrown kid. (In comparison to ReDestro, who “uses more SAT words, since he’s had a formal education.”)

He can be a sarcastic smartass.

Kurogiri:

“Kurogiri is Extremely Polite”

He only refers to Shigaraki as ‘Shigaraki Tomura’. Always the full name, always just that.

He speaks very formally and respectfully; however, there is also a nastier side to him that comes out when he faces off Heroes: Saying to All Might, “I can't say I like the idea of having blood and guts inside my gate, but… if they're yours, I’ll happily oblige.” (Chapter 18); mocking Eraserhead and Mic when they're being sad over him, “Have you mistaken this place for a confessional of some kind?” (Chapter 254)

Dabi:

“Dabi is like Shoto but ruder, though not to Bakugo’s extent”

He calls people names: Toga most often, as 'crazy'; he called Spinner 'lizard' once; when he first met Shigaraki, he said 'gross'.

Note that all the examples above are people younger than him; as far as I know, Dabi refrains from name-calling his allies who are older than him: Compress, Twice, Skeptic.

He inexplicably politely calls Ujiko ‘Ujiko-san’.

Compress:

“Compress is kind of like Sero. He’s got that trickster tone to him. Gets rougher when things don’t go his way.”

Likes to call himself an ‘old man’ at age 32; talks like an older gentleman as well.

Twice:

Twice contradicts himself a lot. Generally, he says one thing, his alter then says the opposite of that immediately afterwards.

However, when things are urgent or serious, his alter’s speech fades. See Chapter 148, when he confronts Shigaraki about the Overhaul plan - he spills out his feelings with no contradiction. See Chapter 224, after they find out Giran’s been kidnapped - when arguing with the League about whether to say Giran, he’s completely coherent.

Twice argues back with the alter sometimes, rather than the alter simply blurting out the opposite of what he says.

After he gets over his clone trauma, the alter seemed to have…integrated into himself? He still speaks in contradictions, but less so, and it doesn’t seem to be a separate voice speaking out involuntarily

Spinner:

“Spinner also speaks the normal masculine contracted speech like Kirishima and Kaminari, but he talks like Tokoyami during the Forest Lodge arc because he’s a Stain chuuni.”

An average, normal guy, compared to the rest of the League: not very polite, but not particularly rude; no great wit or affect (after he stops being a Stain fanboy), but not unintelligible; game references infrequently.

Giran:

“Giran is also like speaks the normal masculine contracted speech similar to Shoto, but he’s a lot more mature.”

He calls Shigaraki “Shigaraki-san”, being polite towards him as a customer.

He calls Twice by his last name, ‘Bubaigawara’, likely because they seem to be friends beyond just business.

Toga:

Toga is a generally polite girl, talks like a teenager.

She can be bad at explaining herself! Seems to forget the people are lacking context for the things she says. “Hey, my best friend Jin just got killed by a Hero, which makes me sad, as well as worried that I'm going to be cut down like nothing as well, especially because I've been told how abnormal I am, even though I think I'm a normal person just like you, because I have emotions like love and fear, as any regular human does, and that lifetime of repression has hurt me.” -> Whatever she actually says to Uraraka in Chapter 289.

Only Toga uses first names with honorifics with the other League members. This is her being cute and desiring familiarity, but still polite.

　◦ Twice is ‘Jin-kun’

　◦ Shigaraki is ‘Tomura-kun’

　◦ Dabi is, at first ‘Dabi-kun’; after she finds out he’s Touya, he’s ‘Touya-kun’

　◦ Spinner is ‘Spinner-kun’

　◦ However, Mr. Compress is simply ‘Mister’

Conversely, only Mr. Compress and Twice call her ‘Toga-chan’. All the 20-somethings dudes call her just ‘Toga’.

*Note what the League calls each other. They all call each other using Villain names. If the male members of the League are using first names and honorifics for each other, they’ve either gotten extremely close and intimate and weirdly polite, or they’re being possessed by AFO.

Tip #5.5. Instead of fretting over writing good dialogue right away, just write whatever you need to get a scene over with. You can go back later to change the tone and speaking style of the sentence.

Here’s a line I had for Dabi at first:

“Whatever hospital he works at should be shut down for incompetency in background checks.”

Wayyy too formal. Here’s the line after I went back and fixed it:

“Whatever hospital he works at should be shut down for being shit at background checks.”

Still not my best shot, but better. Sometimes all you need is just to change a word.

Tip #6. Humor. The League is ridiculous and hilarious. Always try to have fun with their interactions and antics.

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cheegu3 · 2 years ago

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Hiiii! Is it possible to request a part 2 of bully felix x fem reader? I can't stop thinking about what he would do next, like how is he going to get rid of the new guy? Will he try to win y/n's heart? How?

ofc, ty for requesting!! I hope you like it <3 :))

happy valentines,,

tw / trigger warning: yandere themes, bullying, name-calling, sexual themes, swearing

wc: 3.2k

pairing: bully!felix x f.m!reader

Lee felix - bully pt.2 ;

Only mere hours had passed since Felix overheard you refer to the new guy as ‘’ your boyfriend ‘’.

When he saw you that same afternoon kissing him by the lockers, that was when he officially lost it - lunging straight for the poor guy, practically strangling him as his hold around his collar tightened while they stared at each other.

You didn’t know how to react. At first you only stared, confused at your bully's behaviour. He hated you so why would he attack your boyfriend? Was it his way of continuing his torture, making sure that you’d be forever unhappy, so now that he saw how happy your boyfriend was making you - he’d try to take him away too?

The thought made you panic and you tried to catch Felix’s attention by putting your hand over his that was grabbing your innocent boyfriend.

‘’ Who is this, y/n? ‘’ was all your boyfriend managed to say, in choked breaths as the pressure around his throat was increasing.

‘‘ Um, my..my bully ‘‘

You avoided his eyes, still looking at Felix. His expression was confusing you. There was a mixture of emotions behind his eyes - anger, satisfaction and maybe even jealousy.

You furrowed your brows.

‘‘ Felix? F- ‘‘ your breath got caught in your throat as the familiar fear kicked in as soon as he finally laid his eyes on you.

He of course didn’t fail to notice it, lips curving up into a smirk momentarily before the angry expression overtook again.

‘‘ Why are you doing this? If you’re angry...take it out on me! He didn’t do anything! ‘’

His head snapped towards you, a sinister smile decorating his beautiful features.

‘‘ Okay ‘‘ he said, letting go of your boyfriend immediately.

You let out a sigh of relief - way too early, as he grabbed a hold of your wrist and dragged you into the bathroom.

Your breath quickened as you knew the inevitable was coming; memories of his harsh punishments in the bathrooms came flooding back to you, his mocking face coming into view to relish your suffering, making the whole thing even worse.

Watching as he locked the door like he always did, you backed away slowly, eyes never leaving his form cautiously.

Felix smiled at your reaction, he must’ve been reminded of the memories too. It didn’t take many seconds of silence before he instead grabbed the collar of your uniform, pushing you against the wall like he had done to your boyfriend just a few seconds ago.

‘‘ I bet you don’t even feel bad ‘‘ he muttered to himself, anger flashing in his eyes as he stared you down ‘‘ Shameless slut ‘‘.

Your eyes widened in surprise. He had never called you that before. What had you done wrong?

‘‘ What did I do? ‘‘

You both stared at each other for a long time. Confusion crept up on your face again. Why didn’t he say anything now?

Felix swallowed hard. He was trying to calm himself down as he was terrifyingly close to revealing his plan to you and acting out emotionally.

So after just staring at you he left without a word. You scoffed incredulously and looked at the mirror to straighten out your uniform again.

What is wrong with him?

Your reflection tilted its head and you stared at the mirror for a long time trying to come up with an explanation. Eventually you gave up, remembering your poor boyfriend was probably waiting outside thinking you were being beat up in the bathroom.

You hurried out and turned your head both ways to look for him, but to your surprise he wasn’t there. In the distance, two guys walked together - with one of them, the blonde one, having his arm around the dark haired one.

You felt a bit sad that your boyfriend had just left you, but quickly shook it off and picked up your stuff. Mentally cursing Felix for bothering you and yet again leaving your stuff scattered on the floor.

*******

You went home that day without your boyfriend by your side like usual. It felt strange, something kept telling you that things weren’t right. He didn’t answer his phone when you called or texted either.

But there wasn’t much to do about it anyway. You couldn’t go over to his house because his strict parents didn’t know about you two dating yet - all you could do was bite your tongue and pray that he was okay.

As the evening went on a text popped up on your phone, making it light up in your dark bedroom as you were studying.

Even from far away you could see that it was your boyfriend’s name on the notification and you quickly dropped everything to read it.

bf <3: ‘‘ Let’s talk tomorrow ‘‘

You looked puzzled at the text. An unsettling feeling growing in the pit of your stomach.

It didn’t feel like the most normal thing to text someone after that meeting with Felix. Was he mad at you for not telling him you were getting bullied maybe? Either way, you couldn’t stop your emotions from taking over and texting, the panic painfully obvious in how quickly you responded.

y/n: ‘’ Why? ‘’

But a few minutes passed and no matter how hard you stared at the display screen - a text never came.

You sighed and put the phone down, trying to the best of your abilities to get to sleep not long after. Eventually the text exited your constantly worried mind as exhaustion from the long day took over instead, letting you fall into a slumber.

The next day was the weekend. You assumed your boyfriend would come over to your house or call and ask to meet somewhere since you couldn’t go to school.

The first thing you did when you woke up was check your phone.

0 new notifications.

You started chewing your lip anxiously as your fingers pressed the call button. He surprisingly picked up after a few ring-signals.

‘‘ Hello? ‘‘

‘‘ Hi ‘‘ he answered.

‘‘ Where do you wanna-��‘‘

‘‘ I’m outside your house ‘‘ he interrupted, and the call ended abruptly.

You let him in and he went up your bedroom, barely glancing at your parents who looked at each other in shock. Inside, he gestured for you to sit on your bed and you obliged, waiting for him to speak.

You didn’t know why, but your heart was drumming fast inside your chest. His expression was hard to read to make it all worse and he was pacing back and forth.

‘‘ A guy told me yesterday that you cheated on me, with him ‘‘ he finally blurted out, an expression of disgust appearing on his face, which made him unable to look at you.

Your heart sank.

‘‘ W-what? I would never do that ba- ‘‘ you stood up, trying to reach out for him but he pushed you off harshly making you back away.

‘‘ Who said that? Tell me their name? ‘‘ tears were starting to form in your eyes and you frantically tried thinking of who he was talking about.

He rolled his eyes.

‘‘ Does it matter,? We’re done. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again ‘‘

Those were his last words, sure to stay ringing in your ears for the rest of the day as he slammed the door behind him, once again leaving you in silence.

*******

You spent the rest of the weekend crying. It wasn’t due to sadness, mostly it was due to how wronged you felt. It was unfair; you hadn’t done anything yet you were being punished.

A perfect relationship that had only just started, ruined just like that. For something that wasn’t even true. Why? Who would do that to you?

As the week approached and you mentally prepared for going back to school, you kept thinking of just that. Who hated you enough to do that? Felix was definitely the top answer but it didn’t make sense.

He hated your guts and always made fun of you, saying you’d never find love because you were ugly and unlikable and always reminding you of how no one wanted to be around you.

It would make more sense for it to be one of the girls - those that seemed to hate your guts almost as much as Felix but didn’t show it outwardly like him. They preferred to gossip and isolate you from them instead.

Maybe it was one of the girl’s that found your boyfriend attractive, their jealousy leading to sabotage. Yet, you still felt unsure. Having rounded down on the suspects didn’t help, you knew you needed to go to school to see who was the happiest after you’d gotten dumped.

So, on Monday morning you got ready like you always did and walked by yourself - the void that your boyfriend usually had filled was very noticeable now as you once again walked alone to school.

Memories of past school-mornings came back to you, making those painful feelings rise to the surface.

Walking alone was always hard for you. You were scared that people were staring and whispering, and as you reached the school and saw people whisper to each other upon seeing you - you really wished your favourite person was there to make you feel safe and calm like he usually did.

Keeping your head low you entered the building and walked straight to the classroom to avoid people.

Just as you were about to reach your designated seat, a gentle hand tugged on your arm. It was a girl, another shy one just like you that would get picked on quite frequently.

You hadn’t talked to each other much, but you always stood up for each other since you knew what it felt like to get bullied - unlike your other classmates who were just bystanders.

For that, you appreciated each other silently.

‘‘ Um...y/n, can you come outside for a moment? ‘‘ her eyes avoided you, gaze instead looking at the floor.

You gave her a warm smile, feeling grateful she was the one to tug on your sleeve and not your bully. For a second, your heart had stopped since you were used to Felix being the only one to even acknowledge your existence at school; although knowing the way he was, it would be way better to be completely invisible to everyone.

You followed her without any objections, because you trusted her. She was different from the others and would never do anything cruel to you or let you get harmed.

The hall was quiet since most students had retreated to their classrooms. But you heard a few faint male voices in the distance. They weren't visible in the hall however, it was just you and the girl from your class.

She seemed a bit anxious, eyes were constantly searching up and down the hall as if someone was standing there and watching her every move.

'' Well, this is a bit awkward...'' she laughed humourlessly and finally turned her attention towards you.

You raised your eyebrow, urging her to continue. The class was about to start soon and as much as you'd prefer staying outside to talk, you didn't want to get into trouble.

'' It's about your boyfriend '' you immediately straightened up upon hearing him get mentioned.

What could this be about?

'' Okay '' was all you could think of saying.

'' He was at a party last weekend and...me and him- '' she stopped, eyes full of guilt as she hesitated to continue.

'' What? ''

'' We uh, slept together ''

She hurriedly got the last part out and then avoided your eyes again, maybe she was scared of your reaction - thinking it was going to be violent or perhaps disappointed but you only felt confused.

For as long as you'd known her, she hadn't been to a single party. After every weekend when you'd see each other she would tell you of how her weekends always consisted of studying diligently at the library.

You remember always reacting in awe to hearing that, wishing you were just as ambitious and disciplined when it came to studying.

Maybe you were overthinking it though, people who study hard can of course also party once in a while and it made it all feel like your boyfriend's sudden accusations made more sense.

It was a classic case of projection. He was the one cheating so he accused you of doing it and then ended it before you'd find out, feeling too guilty of his actions.

'' Y/n? ''

'' Hm? ''

You probably must've zoned out while thinking, and now you felt a bit apologetic as she looked like her anxiety had ten-folded while you'd been quiet after she had dropped the bomb.

'' I didn't know you went to parties ''

She looked like you had caught her off-guard, eyes widening and lips parting but no words coming out of them.

'' It's okay, don't worry '' you smiled, trying to make her feel better.

'' Also, thank you. You made it all make more sense, he actually broke up with me a few days ago '' you added.

It didn't make her relax like you thought it would. Instead it looked like she already knew that.

Had the news really spread that fast?

Even though you thought you were about 50% over your boyfriend after spending the whole weekend crying, you still spent the rest of the school day zoning out while visions of him cheating kept flashing in your mind.

It was hard to focus and by the time the school bell rang you were sure the teacher would call your parents and scold you for not paying attention.

At this point you really couldn't care less though. You just wanted to get home to your comfortable bed and cry your eyes out again.

You gathered your things quickly and were one of the first to head out. On the way, you noticed someone in the corner of your eye. They sped up by the sound of it, their feet scraping the gravel underneath.

When they were really close, you suddenly whipped your head around - alarm bells ringing in your head making you think the person was going to attack you.

'' Felix? ''

Your bully blinked at you, almost looking as confused as you were like he hadn't just snuck up on you.

He felt incredibly awkward, this was almost the end of his plan that had started about a few days ago.

FLASHBACK

'' Your little girlfriend is in there-'' Felix pulled your boyfriend back by his arm as he tried to enter the bathroom. '' She's fine, idiot ''

'' Now you will listen to me and do exactly as I say ''

The blonde male laid an arm around the other boy's shoulder. To outsiders they might look like good friends or just two guys having a casual conversation.

But on the inside, a much more twisted conversation was taking place between the two of them.

Felix lead your boyfriend out into the schoolyard, away from everyone who might be lurking and risk overhearing them.

Here he once again pushed the poor guy up against the wall, but this time he was clutching a small pocket-knife in his hand.

'' You will break up with, y/n ''

'' But- '' protests began spilling out of his mouth, causing your bully to push the knife ever so slightly into the flesh of his neck.

If he applied any more pressure, blood would soon trickle out and cover his knife.

'' What did I tell you? '' he warned, voice low.

'' To- to listen and do exactly as you say? '' your boyfriend's voice was starting to shake in fear.

He wasn't too surprised by the fact someone who was capable of bullying was also carrying around a knife and able to threaten others, without any ounce of guilt in their eyes - but he still didn't expect, a bully - your bully, to demand he breaks up with you.

That didn't make any sense to him.

'' Good '' the knife was retracted a bit '' You will break up with her before the end of the weekend, accuse her of cheating and say that someone came forward and told you so ''

Felix thought for a moment, a sinister smile creeping up on his contrasting innocent features.

'' And, to make it seem more believable. Ignore her texts and calls so she thinks you're mad at her, then call her and suddenly say you're outside her house ''

Your boyfriend held back his tears, swallowing the lump of guilt and sadness that was starting to form in his throat.

'' You have to pull it off, never break character. Think of it as...acting ''

'' If you don't '' he came even closer now, their noses being mere inches from touching.

'' I will kill your entire family, as soon as the clock strikes 12:01 on Monday ''

'' Do you get it? ''

And so, your boyfriend had no choice but to obey the monster. As much as he wanted to believe the boy in front of him wasn't capable of murder, and that even if he was, there was a chance for him to escape with his family and you - it all felt very hopeless in that moment.

Maybe he took the easy route, but this way you wouldn't be harmed either.

All Felix had to do now was find a girl, threaten her and sit back and relax as the show would unfold, all according to his plan.

*******

'' What are you doing here? '' you stared at him, getting ready to run away in case he'd bully you here where no one could see you.

He gave you a warm smile and his eyes softened, for the first time ever. You had never seen him look at you like that before.

'' Sorry- I heard the news '' Felix tried his best to give you an innocent look, big puppy eyes that he'd hope would complete his performance he was now putting on in front of you.

'' Well, it made me think and I felt kind of bad for you '' he continued.

You gasped and then scoffed a bit in disbelief. You weren't sure if he was playing another one of his cruel jokes on you again.

'' I won't bully you anymore, and I actually know what it's like to be all alone '' he stepped closer and you flinched.

'' If you don't mind, I'd like to walk you home ''

He flashed you another smile again, his eyes crinkling and it was so well-done you actually believed it.

Once the initial discomfort wore off, you nodded as you saw he looked pretty genuine.

So you let him walk you home. Unaware that when he said bye to you at your doorstep - he wanted nothing more than to barge inside, kiss you and do all kinds of things to you just like he had spent most of his days daydreaming about.

But he knew better, he knew he had to play the long game to win you over and that was exactly what he was going to do.

#yandere felix #yandere skz #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz scenarios #yandere stray kids

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ad-hawkeye · 8 months ago

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tot is definitely trying harder because they have more competition in the mobile cn otome scene (esp deepspace lol)but i will not complain it as long as they don’t force us to relive the artem midfest

about the high school au card general thoughts from weibo are holy shit artem why are you making everyone hard pity or almost hard pity smh. the card is good and it does a good job at giving you a cute innocent school romance/crush some posts giving praise to both artem and rosa’s lines + writer/writing team as well

joining the war on love and deepspace on the side of love and deepspace solely to ensure that tot feels pressured to actually write a decent story and to also care about character consistency again

it's interesting from a market perspective. love and deepspace has a really strong grip on those who like "spicy" content, especially because of its 3d models. that's what it's marketed as, and that's what it really excels at. i know of several other cn otome games with better borderline nsfw content too, ones that lean into it fully and a lot more openly than tot. i also know of several other cn otome games that are completely outdoing tot in terms of writing and art - lovebrush chronicles for example.

tot is fascinating bc it originally found a niche as a whodunit mystery game with otome elements and interesting characters. it also had a boost being a mihoyo made game.

but then they noticed people liked the steamier content, so they abandoned their original niche to chase after fanservice at the expense of their storytelling and characters. and now that other games out there are doing the whole borderline nsfw thing much better than they are (because let's be real, tot sacrificed their writing in the name of extremely mediocre softcore porn foreplay and tropes that other games do better), it feels like they're trying to bring back the original writing and are trying to think outside of the box in terms of art and new official art styles.

i wonder where tot will go from here, or if this will work?

god okay, additional side rant incoming. but before i do - that's fantastic news about the high school au cards.. thank you!!

did you know lovebrush had the mls have their first kisses with mc at different times? ayn's happened on white day, cael's happened in an ssr card story following white day, and the remaining boys had theirs happen during their azure island routes. and you know what? it made sense for their characters!

ayn is very blunt and straight forward. cael had several other card stories dedicated to building up their relationship. alkaid is too afraid of upsetting mc and would not make the first move. clarence is still getting used to being in a romantic relationship. lars is a hopeless romantic who seems preoccupied with waiting for the "right moment".

and it just. keeps reminding me of tot's second anniversary. where the writers planned to have luke propose to rosa because of his whole "i'm dying in three years" thing which... makes sense! that makes sense! but why on earth would you make the other three guys propose when it doesn't make sense for them?? i just. ugh.

sometimes i wonder if it's too late for tot to fix their writing.

and the funny thing! lbc has a wedding event in the cn server! but you want to know something even funnier?? it's not an actual wedding! it's a photoshoot event! none of them are engaged!

tot could have gone so many routes and they took the ones with the worst writing and it's mind boggling. you CAN do fanservice with good writing!

#tears of themis #lovebrush chronicles #asks #anon #tot spoilers #lbc spoilers #cn spoilers #sorry this is probably such a biased mess of a rant but. ughhhh

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typewriting101 · 1 year ago

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snowy season.

pairings: levi ackerman x y/n

warnings: mention of disownment

word count: 20k (maybe more haha)

genre: fanfic romance

⟶ summary: what happens when everyone leaves for the holiday season, but you have nobody… but neither does captain levi?

an: hey everyone! i ended up with covid so i had time to make this little levi piece. he’s my safe place. i want nothing more in this world but him :,) so enjoy a snowy day with him !! ⛄️

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the snowy season was always your favorite. there was something about the cold, bundling up under layers, wind hitting your face as you walk with a group of friends. it was almost a life reset,

until it wasn’t.

then you lost your friends, your family, all due to their ideals and how they hated yours. why couldn’t they love you because you joined the scouts? it was your choice. but to all of them you were nothing but wasted tax dollars to a useless cause.

but that’s not how you saw it.

you left so others could have that walk with their friends and so little kids could still build a snowman. so people could live.

but now it’s snowy season, and here you are,

alone.

it was early morning, the snow falling gracefully. you finally decided to get out of bed in your scout dorm and look out the window. in your heart you still appreciated everything, but there’s more weight on your heart when you let a soft smile at the elegant scene out your window. you decided maybe you should go for a morning walk like you used to do with your best friend armin. but he was in shiganshina for the holidays.

along with the rest of the 104th squad.

the only people who stayed on base besides the high staff like Captians and the Commander were the few stragglers who had no family or didn’t want to leave for the weekend.

still in your room, you pulled on your entire scout uniform, boots and hooded cape. you were off duty, but this life is what you knew and you’d continue today like any other day.

you stepped into the hallway of the castle, pausing quickly as the old floors creaked. the large clock rang quietly signaling it was four in the morning. you let out a sigh, knowing it was officially the day before your holiday.

you quietly went down the steps and made your way outside. it was very cold, and you felt your nose go pink very quickly. you decided nonetheless to walk the grounds in a large circle.

as you walked you felt a bit lighter, but nowhere close to where you should be. as you made your way in a full circle you stopped in your tracks because someone was at the door.

captain levi stood, also in full gear, his hood up causing his bangs to lightly feather his eyes. he simply stared at you, your cheeks as red as your nose, your fingertips without gloves.

he approached you without a word and you weren’t sure what to say either. he whipped out his black gloves from his pocket and gently took your hand, to put them on for you.

“i thought you would’ve left.” he said as he rolled the gloves on your cold fingers.

“oh, i don’t really have anybody, sir. it’s just me.”

he grabbed your other hand without a word and put the gloves on your other hand. he put your hands in a clapping position and lifted them up to his mouth, letting out a warm breath of air, letting your fingers finally feel warmth.

“yeah, me either.”

he puffed air onto your fingers one more time, holding them tight so the heat wouldn’t escape.

“thank you, sir.” was all you could say. levi ackerman, humanities strongest, was your long time secret love. everything about him made you love the world a little more, even after all you went through. you never dared to speak word of it, but this gesture reminded yourself how much.

“we aren’t on duty until monday. i’d rather not hear my work name, y/n.” he looked at your footprints going in a circle, and before you could apologize he followed them, “were you walking?”

you blinked at his suddenness and followed him, “yes. i… well to be honest i love this weather. it helps me think and so does walking, so i decided to do both.”

he stopped to look at you, the way that made your skin crawl. he was a captain for a reason. he had this look like he see your thoughts and feelings, and it scared you because you didn’t want him to find out how you felt about him.

he suddenly stuck his arm out to you. shocked, you hesitated and then took it. it’s normal for a captain and a soldier to take a walk together… right?

“who did you lose?” the captain said after a long silence.

your heart dropped, “what?”

“i can tell a thing or two, being raised in the underground. who did you lose when the wall fell?”

your sighed, “to be honest, i was one of the lucky ones who didn’t lose anyone that day.”

he stopped walking and turned to you as the wind kicked up a bit, knocking his hood down, “but you said you were spending this weekend alone?”

“yes…” you brushed your hair out of your face, some anxiety picking up making you want to walk again. “it’s honestly embarrassing as to why but—“

you went to walk away and his hands grabbed your shoulders pulling you right back to where you were, in front of him. but you noticed it was a little bit closer.

“i’ve lost people in more way than i can count.” he said trying to open a conversation door, talking quieter than his previous words.

you noticed his hands were still on you and you tried not to think about it as you spoke, “unfortunately… nobody wanted me.” you began looking at the floor now. your shoes were covered in snow, you could make out a pretty snowflake on the right one.

“keep going.” he said quietly.

you looked up and he seemed so patient. just looking at you. it was like the perfect picture and you hated yourself for it, but tears filled your eyes. how come he can look at you like this but your family can’t? your hometown friends? how come the only person who can is your captain who you loved so much?

“they decided to disown me if i joined the scouts. i told them my heart and soul was to the cause. and they told me i was nothing but wasted tax dollars and i never heard from them again. i know they are all gathered tonight, it’s embarrassing because how do i go from being the glue to a family to shunted into the dark?”

he didn’t say anything and you felt him examine your fragile state.

“they don’t deserve you.”

your eyes widened and you looked up at him. he still had on that blank stone face, but he grabbed you softly by the elbow and led you back inside the castle all the way into the dining hall with a large fireplace. he stay you down and lit a fire, which you thanked him for but received no response. he walked away leaving you wonder until he came back with two mugs of black tea.

“thank you.” you said kindly.

“they don’t deserve you, y/n. i mean it.”

you could’ve choked on your tea, but kept yourself together. you thought you both had moved on from the conversation but he had been thinking about it this whole time apparently.

“levi,” causing his face to turn pink for only a second until he drank a sip of tea. “you don’t have to say that, it’s okay.”

“you’re my best soldier, and probably the best person here. you’ve taken blows you damn shouldn’t have for other cadets, you take more hours and put in more effort than others at your level, and you still take time for people to feel welcomed. so no it’s not okay, i don’t like my soldiers being talked about like that.”

he took a sip of his tea as if he didn’t say a thing, leaving you speechless. “wow… thank you. i didn’t realize how much that bothered me until you pointed all these things out about myself.”

you both looked at the fire in a comfortable silence until you finished off your warm drinks. he stood up and took your mug.

“you’re appreciated here, especially by me. don’t think otherwise. you at least have one person who would bend themselves goddamn backwards for you. okay?”

you smiled and quickly wiped a tear, hoping he wouldn’t see, but of course he did.

“i hope you know the same, levi.”

he looked at you with that look again, blinked, and walked away to get rid of your mugs. the clock rang, and the remaining scouts entered the dining hall for breakfast.

you stayed where you were on the bench by the fire, feeling his ghost next to you, holding your hands and puffing hot air into them with a smile on your face, not knowing the captain was cleaning the dishes replaying the same thing.

maybe the snowy season won’t be so bad this year.

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a/n: okay so lmk how this is bc again i have covid i hope it’s in character enough omg HAHAH, i didn’t tag anyone bc i wasn’t sure how i felt ab it, so pls leave a comment below !

#fanfic #fanfiction #romance #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x abused! reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #shifting #holiday #sad #alone #fluff #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #levi fanfiction #Spotify

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lepus-littlebear · 2 years ago

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(Analysis?) Summoner(MC) returning to home-world

“We’ll help you return to your home world……or not?”

The ArTw boys and their views about sending Summoner back home analysis(?). It's more like a rant but here we go.

Disclaimer, i wrote this at 1 in the morning so i may have left out more things i got to say and i’ll probably add them later but have this for now-

SPOILER ALERT

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I’ll use Summoner’s canon official name here- “Lee Dam”/”Dam(i)”(first name) bc it’s convenient ✩

So as far as we've established, Lee Dam is from Mid-Eartheim or at least that’s what people around her conclude. Later in the story, they even suspect that Dami is not from another world at all.

But here, we’ll go with our main boys’ perspective.

When it comes to sending Lee Dam home, the boys seem to have separate opinions.

🐑Arcturus above all seems to be very keen and persistent in Dami returning back to her world. He’s the first one of the boys to promise her a safe return home and not only that, he’s the only one who keeps on insisting on this promise for the first few chapters of the story to the point where he’s the only sorcerer with a voice line in home screen who once again promises her to find her way back and asking her to trust him.

I, at first was like yeah Arcky being helpful lil bean like he is but is he really? That’s what I thought after progressing throughout the story. Arcky looks like one of the purest guy ever but later as we move on in main story, he seems somewhat shady. My theory is that he is hiding the fact that he knows or even better remembers something that others don’t.

Y’know the Void organization thing going on? I suspect Arcky of having something to do with The Void. But when there’s discussion of Void, he says that he’s been curious about it and has no idea what it is. Although I would like to believe him, I have this teeny tiny feeling he’s pretending OR he forgot and remembers only fragments of those memories related to Void.

In a library scene, he clearly sighs and seems relieved after he says that info about Void is top secret.

Further on, when things are still tense and even Schedar orders that Dami should be guarded even more than before, the always over-worrying Arcky is careless and invites Dami over to grab snacks outside knowing full well he is supposed to be extra careful. And he doesn’t even sense that someone is following them at all? This seems far too careless even for someone as clumsy as Arcky.

Vega even reminds Arcky later on about this mistake and states the duo was being followed. That he should’ve consulted with others before doing anything. Vega requested for an urgent summon by Dami’s side and his voice in the call seems to be audibly restless hinting it was no small matter.

Maybe Arcky just absent-mindedly did that or maybe he didn’t.

I cannot be sure here but Arcky in my opinion seems to have a motive other than being simply helpful to Lee Dam find her way back. He’s more consistent about this matter than anyone, almost as if he thinks she needs to go back. She shouldn’t be here.

Again, i’m not sure but we’ll see how it plays out. But one thing I’m certain is that he doesn’t truly wish for Dami to get hurt or at least that’s what I like to believe. He cares for her genuinely.

♊Pollux is a confusing one for me. He seems kinda neutral on the matter. But my conclusion is that he doesn’t like the thought of Dami returning back. Despite saying “i don’t make friends easily” in their first meeting, Pollux actually is the one who initiates their friendship. Saving a seat for her, texting her lecture materials, helping her out, etc. He even grows protective of her later on and continuously suspects Sirius, his clan fellow when it comes to Dami.

But hey, nobody rlly trusts Sirius so understandable. And with this growing closeness, Pollux would rather not part with Lee Dam but i feel like if he’s told it’s for her safety & well-being, he would let her go for her good.(cue some crying and stubbornness)

🐨🐺Listen I may sound crazy but in this matter Alpheratz and Sirius are quite similar. In one side, there’s Alpheratz continuously suggesting Lee Dam to not get herself involved in all of this, and on another, we have Sirius always warning Dami to not see, respond, or hear to the entity appearing in her consciousness time and again. Although both have not clearly revealed their say on our summoner’s return to mid-eartheim, I feel that they think it’s better to leave and go back to her normal world. A world where she won’t have to worry about being targeted every 5 seconds.

Alpharetz indirectly expressing that he would rather she return to her world by always insisting Lee Dam to not tag along with the guides to their dangerous trips and his affection level going up when Dami chooses to stay behind.

Sirius closing her eyes and ears every time it feels like Dami is again in contact with the giant eye and the entity, and warning her to not come to the tower when she does. Him texting her that he prays she leaves before matters get worse.

Sirius is confusing, he involves her and initiates danger but still protects her and says he would rather like it if she isn’t included in all that chaos. BUT after reading floor 11, I have a feeling Alpheratz changed his mind a bit? It’s more like, she’s someone i’ve wished for years and years– since the previous timeline so I’m reluctant to lose her again, that’s why I’d rather give my all to keep her safe this time no matter what.

❄️Vega, oh Vega, my sweet lil snowball. I’ll say that he’s conflicted. There are many assumptions in my mind about him. It’ll be so freaking hard for him to let go of Dami, his childhood sweetheart who he waited an entire decade and more for. Will he let go of someone who he spent his lifetime waiting for? Hard to say but maybe yes. Vega is selfless and wants her to be safe above anything else.

He also says that he is sick of seeing Dami be involved with this world and its dangers that she doesn’t deserve. He might side with Alpheratz slightly. He doesn’t want to let go of her but at the same time, he would rather have her be happy than see her get hurt and lose her forever. Or even better, he leaves with her since they’re both from Mid-Eartheim. After all, Vega spent his entire lifetime awaiting one star and that's Lee Dam and only Lee Dam, no one else.

♍Have you noticed that Spica’s the only one who has never stated that he wishes Lee Dam to return and not be involved with Bound Arlyn’s crisis? Yes, some other guys haven’t either but have you noticed he’s rather opposite to wanting her to return? He advises Arcky to not keep false promises like sending her home. He’s also continuously shown to want Dami to join them when they plan to go on a field trip(visit) and actively invites her to potentially dangerous places.

He does not have any malicious intentions but instead, from what I see, I’m rather suggesting that Spica wants Dami to adapt to her new life completely and continue as a summoner. He’s always keen when it comes to discussing Lee Dam’s potential as a sorcerer and even asking her if she wants to become a constellation’s choice. Imo, Spica wants Dami to get better in her school activities and use her power for the betterment and protection of the world. HOWEVER remembering that sus lil conversation he shared with our local shady man who's trusted by no one in the banquet, i have doubts on Spica too. (basically, i doubt 3/6 of these men bc otoges have taught me better than to trust someone even if they are love interests)

To put in small words, let me categorise them-

“I want you to return back”

-Arcturus

“It’s better to go back”

-Alpheratz, Sirius, Vega(?)

“I don’t want you to but it can’t be helped”

-Pollux, Vega(?)

“Would you like to stay instead?”

-Spica

The following pics kinda summarise my thoughts(?)

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anyways thanks if you read until here, i just wrote this for fun and none of these are facts but rather my silly little venting bc the plot is just too good.

Here's a bonus: our local shady war criminal as Florida man news headlines

he would do this.

#is just a rant and vent none of these are facts #arcana twilight #artw #arcana twilight spica #arcana twilight pollux #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight sirius #arcana twilight vega #arcana twilight theory #arcana twilight spoiler

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chevelleneech · 3 months ago

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This comment (and many others on their videos tbh) really prove that as fans, we don’t know shit, lol.

I am not a fan of MewTul nor know anything about their lives prior to them coming out and confirming their suspected relationship to be true, but lately I’ve been watching older videos of them just to see where speculation stemmed from and how people who knew of them reacted, and it’s a pretty large consensus of people who disliked them in favor of believing Mew was with another Thai actor.

I’d heard of that other ship name before, plenty of times, but I didn’t know things ran as serious for their shippers as they did. To the point where them no longer interacting in public was taken so hard. People spewing hatred and claiming they’re lying and are still secretly a couple.

It of course reminded me of Jikook and Tkk, and while I am not even slightly comparing these ships, the above comment really stood out to me, because of how certain the commenter was. Which says so much on both sides of the Jikook vs Tkk “debate”.

In 2023, this person believed without a doubt that Mew was a liar and desperate for attention. They asserted their believed fact that Tul would never be anything other than open and honest about being queer and in a relationship, and that the other man Mew was heavily shipped with was a better person and actor all around.

Fast forward to 2024, and Mew and Tul have announced their relationship, and it’s been stated that Tul was the more hesitant one about making their relationship public.

This comment stood out to me, because on both sides of this J v T debate, so-called fans swear up and down that their opinion is the correct one, based on “I know my fave best!” logic, which is crazy. We don’t know them and certainly have no clue what it is they’re truly feeling.

Again, this has nothing to do with whether or not Jimin and Jungkook ever officially come out. I’m not expecting them to, with or without each other as partners. I just think that comment highlights how stubborn people can be about ships they both love and dislike. Even if it’s staring you in the face, because just from the videos I’ve seen, they were pretty obvious. Which, in my opinion, falls heavily into the box where-in it’s necessary to remember that people not being out ≠ them being closeted.

Mew and Tul clearly posted themselves traveling together and so on, despite the posts being on different days. Mew also spoke about his “lover” in ways that (again, based on what I’ve seen so far) pointed pretty solidly toward Tul. A fact that fans who loved them and hated them, but kept check on them, would easily be able to see. So I think people were just in denial due to how BL is consumed as a genre anyway. They like the relationships on camera, and like the idea of the queer male characters existing in our versions of reality, but not to the point where they have autonomy. They don’t like the actors going “off script” with an outside partner or even a partner they dislike, even though they really just living their daily life.

(Editor’s note: I fell asleep in the middle of writing this, and sort of slept-wrote the last two paragraphs, lol! But surprisingly there weren’t many typos to fix.)

Anyway, hopefully my point comes across. As much as we think we know what we know, there is still room to be wrong, and buckling down and spewing hatred is unnecessary. Plenty of people believe themselves correct, and like MewG’s situation, that belief may not pan out. The MT shippers who were around prior to their confirmation are surely happy though, but so far from what I’ve seen, they weren’t on Twitter and on youtube calling people names for not believing. Which is what all shippers should do. Ship what you ship, but don’t be an asshole about it if people disagree with certain aspects. Unless they’re an asshole first, at least.

Also, I do have to be honest and say it sort of surprised me how similar MewG fans are to Tkkrs. They @ Mew (or whoever runs the account with his name on it) all types of rude shit, they belittle his friendship with Tul, and claim it’s all fan service. They call Tul ugly and some even turned on Mew for being desperate for attention. That doesn’t mean Jikook will follow MewTul’s path, but I just found it kind of crazy how the more hateful sides of a person stuck in the middle, basically match up.

#jikook #anyway bye!

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use-your-telescope · 1 year ago

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Wow, WOW. It has been... a *hot minute* (cough-sixmonths-cough) since I've shared any real teasers/snippets of my big writing project, WHICH NOW HAS A NAME - that's right, it's no longer going by the working title of "the Trickster!" The fic is officially titled "When Everything's Made to be Broken." Linked the synopsis page, which should link out to the snippets that I've previously posted, in case anyone is like "what was this fic again?" So here we go! I'm getting to a point where even though the story as a whole isn't finished, I might start posting the first few chapters just so I'm no longer sitting on them... The first seven chapters are pretty much done (minus a final read through), and the end is there, it's just the middle of the story that's vexing me. Anyways, this takes place after the other snippets I've posted. Enjoy!

Tag List: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @thedistractedagglomeration @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @mochie85 @coldnique @lokixryss @gigglingtiggerv2 @infinitystoner @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @crzyplantladyvibes @buttercupcookies-blog @vickie5446 @the-lady-amphitrite

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list!

Warnings: None. This is on the soft side, all things considered?

Song: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

Word Count: 1,281 words

You Were in the Darkness Too

Before long, they were outside of Marquette, driving down backroads that made Loki question whether or not his phone’s GPS was accurate. However, when they turned down a long gravel driveway that led to a clearing with a small farm, he received confirmation that he was, in fact, in the correct location when Theo pointed at where to park.

“Welcome to the farm,” Theo gestured to the property around them, her voice and expression lacking any enthusiasm. Approaching a wooden porch, she gestured towards a shed. “In that shed is the portal I usually use to go home; you’re welcome to use it - get home and actually sleep in your own bed.” Rather than move towards the shed, Theo fished a set of keys out of her pocket and started fiddling with the door.

“Are you not planning to return home for the evening?” Loki furrowed his brow, glancing between the shed and the door that Theo had, by that point, unlocked and swung open.

“I– no.” Theo grabbed her bag from where she had set it on the porch, slinging it over her shoulder. “This is the house I grew up in; I know it’s just as close as New York with the portal and all, but I think I’d feel better if I stayed here, at least for tonight.”

Her rationale was, though not necessarily logical, understandable. The idea of a familiar setting providing comfort made sense. And though he would have loved to reunite with his own bed, the idea of Theo alone still seemed… wrong.

Why that was, Loki was uncertain.

“Perhaps I might stay with you, then?” Loki blurted out the question. “I don’t mean to impose, however if anything were to happen I think it would be in your best interest to not be alone.”

Theo stilled, mouth hanging slightly open as she processed Loki’s request.

“Loki, you’ve already done so much for me.” She shook her head. “I can’t ask you to cancel all of your plans and postpone going home after such a crazy, exhausting week.”

“You are not asking,” Loki countered, “I am offering.”

She pursed her lips and peered at Loki. The breeze rustled the trees around them, and in the distance the ebb and flow of waves off the lake provided a wash of ambient sound.

“Um, yeah - come on in.” Theo pushed the door open, reaching in to flick on a light before gesturing for Loki to follow. “But if it’s too much at any point, or you need to go do something, promise me you will go.”

“I swear it.” Loki retrieved his own bag and followed her inside.

The farmhouse was a sharp contrast to the tower - unlike the modern, minimalist architecture of the tower, he found himself charmed by the quaint, mismatched nature of Mémère’s home. In many ways, the home reminded him of the houses he’d see in Maximoff’s old sitcoms: the furniture seemed to be from decades past, though they weren’t quite as coordinated as on television.

Photos adorned the walls of the hallway - some old enough to lack color, while others looked as though they were taken yesterday.

“You can take my bed, I’ll just take the couch.” Theo said, leading Loki into what appeared to be a sitting room.

“You need not sacrifice your bed for me—“

“You just changed all your plans so you could fly with me to a place you’d never been and probably never wanted to visit, all because I was upset about someone you’ve never even met having health problems. Not to mention you just dropped a shit ton of money to change both of our flights, and on a rental car…” She shook her head, turning on more lights as she escorted him through the house. There was a certain sense of relief that came with the realization that some of the fire which Loki associated with Theo had returned. “You deserve a real bed to sleep in, if nothing else.”

“You’ve also worked tirelessly over the previous week, and you carry a great emotional weight,“ Loki countered, “Perhaps we can share?”

Trudging up a flight of stairs, Theo waited until they were both upstairs before replying. “It’s only a queen-size bed, not the California Kings that we have in the tower, so it might be a bit cozy… but if you’re okay with it then sure.”

“We’ve spent time in far closer proximity,” Loki pointed out, to which Theo cracked a smile and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but uh… I’m not really feeling up to that tonight.”

“It was not something I even considered, given everything that has taken place.”

“I didn’t think you were, but I figured I would clarify.” She pushed open a door, flicking on the light. “Welcome to my bedroom.”

In the late night, Loki was presented his first chance to take in the room that Theo called her own. Soft, pale yellow walls and sheer white curtains felt familiar - it was a lighter, softer version of the quarters Theo kept at the tower. The furniture here was not remotely cohesive - a heavy wooden dresser sat in the corner, assorted knick-knacks atop it. Above the dresser, a Van Gogh poster was tacked to the wall - a still-life of a turquoise vase with sunflowers.

In the corner, an acoustic guitar sat. Next to the guitar, Theo’s closet door sat open - inside, a colorful mix of plaid filled the cramped space. The bed was as large as one could rationally fit in the tight space; atop it, a patchwork quilt provided an injection of color and warmth to the room.

Perhaps this room was a time capsule of her youth, or maybe it became a melding of her past and present - he couldn’t be entirely sure.

Neither of them wasted any time getting ready for bed - then again, after capping off a long week with a particularly exhausting day, it was a small miracle that they hadn’t skipped pajamas and fallen asleep in their dayclothes. Loki was the first to lay down; Theo quickly followed, shutting the lights off before slipping beneath the bedclothes and settling in.

Loki stretched out as best he could on the mattress, though Theo was right when she said it was much smaller than Loki’s bed in New York - unless he slept with his head touching the headboard or curled up on his side, his feet would hang off the end of the mattress.

Theo rolled onto her side, facing Loki. Moonlight from the window reflected off her silver hair, casting an ethereal glow in the dark of night. When Loki turned to face her, he caught her watching him.

“You ought to rest, darling.” He murmured, arching an eyebrow at her.

“I know,” she whispered, “I’m just thinking…”

“About?”

“Today.”

Loki hummed. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Theo faltered for a moment, then shook her head.

“Is there something I might do to help you rest?” Loki leaned forward until his forehead rested against Theo’s.

“Just having you here helps.” Theo shrugged, “but, um…”

“What is it?” Loki frowned, trying to catch Theo’s gaze.

“Could you, um…” Theo shimmied a bit closer, stopping just before they touched.

Relief flooded through Loki at the request. He lifted an arm and nodded, a shy smile curling up on his face. Theo rolled over and slid back until her back pressed against Loki’s chest; he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“I’m here, dove.” He whispered, burying his nose into her hair. The faint whiff of shampoo, with notes of rosemary and lavender, tickled his nose. “Whenever you need, however you need.”

He meant every word.

#loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki #loki fanfiction #loki fic #loki hurt/comfort #soft loki #loki x oc #loki comfort #when everything's made to be broken #WEMTBB #e writes stuff

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ravendruid · 10 months ago

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Be In My Eyes - Chapter 29

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Happy belated Valentine's day <3 (I promise I didn't plan this!) Summary: Time to dress up for Keyleth's date with Vax.

The week rushed by like rapids, especially when, on Miresen morning, every single one of Keyleth’s teachers reminded their classes that the clock announcing finals had officially begun ticking. One month. Keyleth had one month to prepare for what she assumed would be the worst week of her college life. She could only hope her teachers took pity on the first years. By that evening, Keyleth had a meticulously developed study schedule, color-coded by class, to help her organize her time. Would she be able to keep up with it, though? She had to. The last thing she wanted was to fail a class and have to repeat it next year. She decided to try out the schedule that week, rotating between the library and the quiet apartment and inviting her roommates to study with her—which Vax’ildan almost always gladly accepted.

The exception happened in the middle of the week. Although the holiday itself wasn’t widely celebrated in Emon, the Night of Ascension was still a holiday for those who celebrated, so the University had given them the day off classes. That day, Keyleth, Percy and Pike decided to occupy a table at their favorite café, staving off the snow that fell outside with steaming cups of hot cocoa. She had asked the twins to join them, but Vax had explained to Keyleth, alone in his bedroom as he bundled up with the hoodie Keyleth loved so much and a thick woolen scarf that had seen better days, that he and Vex’ahlia had a tradition to pay homage to their mother during the holiday, so they would be going to the nearest temple to make an offering, and then go out for a meal and celebrate their memories of Elaina (Vax had finally shared his mother’s name with her). Keyleth pondered asking to join them and do the same for her mother, but she figured that it was something the twins preferred to stay between just them. Besides, neither she nor her mother were particularly given to deities.

But the week rushed by nonetheless, and on Folsen evening, when Keyleth opened the fridge and saw a container with freshly made soup and a sticky note from Vax (I hope this helps you stay warm), the girl was ready to put on a pair of fuzzy socks, her warmest pajama and curl into a ball on the armchair and read until her eyelids drooped. Alas, her dream was interrupted by footsteps walking down the corridor as Keyleth removed the steaming bowl from the microwave.

“Oh. Hi Kiki,” Vax greeted. He was wearing a new long-sleeve pajama shirt (black, as usual), a pair of black sweatpants, and his hair was braided away from his face—it was about time that he heed not only Vex’s but also Keyleth’s advice about braiding his hair before bed.

“Hi, Vax. Thank you for the soup,” Keyleth nodded in gratitude. She sat at the kitchen table and started to eat. Vax joined her, sitting on the chair in front of hers, elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“How were classes?”

“Exhausting.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Vax asked smugly. Keylth looked at him confused, then remembered they were going out… on a date. “Please don’t tell me you forgot about our date?” Vax asked, outraged, seeing the look of realization on her face.

“No... I—I’m sorry.” Keyleth apologized, embarrassed. Vax merely laughed and shook his head. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Oh. What should I wear?” Keyleth asked, trying to get any possible clue from him.

“Something comfortable and warm.” The answer didn’t reveal anything substantial.

“What time are we leaving?” Keyleth tried another route.

“Do you think eight is too early?” Keyleth shook her head. She was used to waking up early, even during the weekends, so it wouldn’t make a difference in her schedule. “Then, we need to leave the apartment at 8:30.”

“Why so early?” Keyleth asked, finishing her soup.

“It’s a bit far and we need to take transportation. It’s going to be a whole day thing, so you might want to clear your schedule.”

Somewhere so far away that they needed to take an early transportation, that would last the entire day, and that she needed to bring warm, comfortable clothes? Where the hell was Vax taking her? “Should I bring anything special? Food? Entertainment?” Keyleth pushed further.

“We can make some sandwiches and bring snacks for the day. Water, too. As for entertainment, that’s what I’m there for, right?” Vax winked. Keyleth blushed and giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I’m sure you will,” She teased. Vax slapped the table softly and grabbed her empty bowl. Keyleth got to her feet, wanting to stop him, but he waved his hand at her in dismissal and washed her dishes for her. Keyleth couldn’t stop herself from biting her lip at how caring Vax was to her. He had made her dinner, kept her company while she ate—even though he looked like he had been ready to go to sleep—and washed her dishes afterward. I don’t deserve someone so good like him.

“You should go to sleep,” Vax said to her, wiping his hands on the towel. He approached Keyleth and kissed her forehead before he turned to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning, Kiki,” he said and disappeared towards his bedroom. Keyleth stood in the kitchen, watching Vax walk away. Only when his bedroom door shut behind him did Keyleth release the longing sigh she had been holding and grabbed her bag to head to bed. Keyleth thought she was going to have trouble sleeping due to anxiety, so the faster she went to bed, the sooner she would fall asleep. However, Keyleth wasn’t expecting the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, a sensation that seemed to calm her more than agitate her, so she fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow.

—

By the time Keyleth walked into the kitchen the next morning (her personal backpack open in front of her in preparation to get stuffed with snacks), Vax’ildan was already at the stove, stirring eggs and plopping two slices of bread in the toaster. On the island sat an evidently larger backpack—a camping backpack—seemingly full and ready to go. Keyleth stumbled on her feet, coming to an abrupt stop as she gawked at Vax’s bag, then at hers, so small in her hands. She didn’t have time to say anything because Vax was already smiling at her and greeting her.

“What’s that?” Keyleth asked, all manners forgotten.

“Our stuff for today.”

“That looks—”

“Heavy? Don’t worry. It’s mostly light items. I made a few sandwiches, packed snacks, water and a thermos with peppermint tea.” Vax said nonchalantly, dividing the eggs between two plates. “Don’t worry, I added a lot of honey to the tea,” He added, seeing Keyleth’s stunned face.

Vax set the plates with scrambled eggs and toast on the table and returned to grab two mugs of coffee. Keyleth finally set her backpack down—now completely useless—and sat at the table. They ate in silence, Keyleth avoiding looking at Vax too much, and then she left him to do the dishes while she returned to her bedroom to finish getting dressed.

They left the apartment at exactly 8:30—like Vax had planned—after Keyleth replaced her small backpack for her regular knitted crossbody purse with just her personal belongings. Since the sun was shining bright and warm in the clear, blue sky, Keyleth left her thickest jacket behind in exchange for a crochet cardigan with sunflowers covering a beige high-neck shirt and a crochet dark green skirt. She pondered wearing pants for a moment, but then she found a pair of thick winter tights, and her problem of wanting to look cute and fight off the cold was easily solved. Meanwhile, Vax was–well… Vax (still incredibly hot, as usual, nonetheless). He wore his regular black, ripped pants, leather jacket and boots. The only difference was that he had replaced his band and graphic t-shirt for a seemingly brand new plain black high-neck shirt, so tight that Keyleth had held her breath when she first saw him before he put on and buttoned his jacket.

They took a bus not far from campus, mostly filled with old ladies who gave the pair a weird look—which Keyleth knew was due to her overall sunshine personality, Vax’s dark and broody appearance and the camping backpack he carried—and they sat in the empty back, Vax setting the packed bag between his legs. They stayed in silence for a while, watching the city pass by slowly. People walked on the sidewalks, bundled up in their snow coats and scarves, couples held hands and stopped to watch the shop windows, and children threw balls and built snowmen in the park they passed by, much like what Keyleth and her friends had done a few weeks before, and which, eventually, led to her being in that empty bus, sitting so close to her crush—more than that, actually—that she could practically hear his heart beating in his chest.

“It’s such a nice day,” Keyleth said, more to herself than to him. Vax hummed. His hand found hers on her lap and he took it, intertwining his fingers with hers. Keyleth still looked out the window, now more to try to hide the blush in her cheeks at the gesture. Vax had been so touchy since last weekend… since he shared so much of his life with her. It was like he couldn’t bear to not touch Keyleth, as if her skin on his calmed him. Keyleth wasn’t complaining. She loved every touch, every chill down her spine, every kernel of warmth and softness that emanated from Vax, and she never wanted it to end.

“Is this the part where you kidnap me?” Keyleth asked twenty minutes later when the city landscape outside had given room to large fields and forests. They had officially been out of the city limits for five minutes, and she still didn’t know where Vax was taking her.

“What if it is?” Vax teased, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling mischievously at her.

“Then I regret to inform you that my father will not yield to any ransom requests. Unless you would like a chicken or two in exchange for giving me back.”

Vax snorted and brought her hands to his lips. He kissed each knuckle softly and then said, “I doubt your father wouldn’t give all the money in the world to have you back, Kiki.”

Keyleth wasn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks was because of his gesture of the implication that Vax knew her father loved her so much he would ruin his finances for her.

“Our exit is coming up,” Vax announced, releasing the grasp in her hand and getting to his feet. Keyleth followed him down the aisle, and when the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere, where the only sign of it being a bust stop was a single pole with a hanging sign, Vax gestured for Keyleth to descend before him, following her as he shouldered the backpack.

“Now I’m really concerned,” Keyleth said, looking around. They were surrounded by tall trees on a single road with practically no traffic. She had no idea where they were in regards to the city proper, but it was clear they were somewhere remote.

“Do you trust me?” Vax asked, extending his hand to her. Keyleth’s answer was weaving her fingers through his and walking by his side in silence.

During their short walk parallel to the road the bus had taken, Keyleth glanced sideways at Vax, who looked relaxed and smiled so brightly he could supply enough energy for a small town. His mood was contagious, and soon Keyleth found herself relaxing and smiling as well, walking hand-in-hand with him down the sidewalk and then up a smaller road.

“No way,” Keyleth exclaimed as they reached an ornate iron gate connected to rock pillars. Above it, high enough where a tall van could cross without touching it, was an iron sign that said Emon Botanical Gardens. Keyleth couldn’t hold her joy at the sight of it, and neither could Vax, apparently, because he was shaking with excitement at her reaction, grinning brightly at her, eyes shining like ambers.

Keyleth squealed in delight as they approached the portico, where a woman waited at the ticket booth. Vax stepped ahead of her and exchanged a few words with the woman that Keyleth couldn’t hear—although, from the look of it, they were familiar with each other—and then signaled her to the barriers that opened on their own accord.

“What?” Keyleth asked, surprised, crossing it behind Vax.

“Students don’t pay entrance,” Vax explained.

“Do you come here often?” Keyleth asked as he walked towards a large wooden board with the map of the park. She stopped abruptly in front of it, gaping with an open mouth at how large the area was.

“Vex and I came here often when we needed a break from the chaos of the city,” Vax explained, picking a pamphlet from the holder. “It’s really peaceful. Here,” He handed Keyleth the pamphlet. She opened it to see a smaller-scale map of the park on one side and short descriptions of what the park contained on the other side.

“This park is huge. We’re not going to be able to see it all today,” Keyleth pointed out, noting all the smaller flower gardens, the several ponds and fountains, the orchard and forests of different kinds of trees. “There’s a waterfall?” She asked, not really expecting an answer. “And a butterfly garden!” Her excitement turned up a notch if it was even possible. Keyleth loved butterflies.

“Where would you like to start?” Vax asked, smiling at her. Keyleth pointed at the greenhouse not far from there, and he nodded. He let her lead the way, even though he probably knew the garden so well that he didn’t need a map anymore.

The greenhouse spawned over a long distance, covering plants from all regions in Exandria, from flowering cacti of the Marquesian deserts to blooming flowers of the Zemni Fields and even a few darker, mysterious flora from the distant lands of Xhorhas. No matter where Keyleth looked, she was welcomed with fragrant scents, a rainbow of colors, and a whole new universe she wanted to explore until the end of her days. She took several minutes to photograph flowers and plants she had never seen before and write notes on the notebook app on her phone, setting up a mental note to return with her camera and a proper notebook. When Keyleth finally uncoiled from where she had been squatting for ten minutes, photographing and copying information from the small description sign next to a bloom of snowdrops, Vax coughed to get her attention. Keyleth’s head snapped in his direction. She had completely forgotten why and who she was there with, so a blush spread on her cheeks as she apologized to Vax bashfully.

“It’s okay. It’s adorable.” He brushed it off, holding out his hand for her to take. Keyleth grabbed it, looking at Vax inquisitively. “Let’s go. I have a surprise,” Vax said, pulling Keyleth with him.

They exited the greenhouse through a side door onto a gravel path. Keyleth’s excitement built up quickly once she saw the first signs pointing in the direction they were going, saying Butterfly House. She found it weird that the butterfly house would be open in the winter since she hadn’t read anything about it in the pamphlet, but maybe it was climate-controlled so they could have viewings year-round. However, Keyleth’s excitement and hope died a little when their path was closed by a barrier, where a note hung from the middle: “We regret to inform the butterfly house is closed until further notice.”

“Vax, what are you doing?” Keyleth asked as Vax transposed the barrier and held out his hand for her. “It’s closed.”

“I know. Trust me,” Vax said. Keyleth followed him down the last of the gravel path and then onto a smaller side path that led to the back of the building. She had no idea where Vax was taking her, but Keyleth trusted him with her life, so she followed as he squeezed her hand tighter in his grip.

“Hello there,” A man greeted the pair when they turned a corner. Keyleth came to an abrupt stop behind Vax, bumping against his back. Shit, we’re screwed, Keyleth thought, knowing they were trespassing.

“Hey!” Vax greeted the man back. He let go of Keyleth’s hand and dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door she realized the man was holding open. Vax then walked towards the man and hugged him tightly. Keyleth finally took a good look at him. He was smiling kindly at them, crow’s feet around his eyes. He seemed to be in his early forties, perhaps, with sun-dappled skin, wild and crazy-looking dark hair, and a black beard streaked with gray, neatly kept in two braids.

“Is this the lady I’ve been hearing so much about?” The man asked Vax, looking around his shoulder to Keyleth with an even fonder smile. Vax laughed and nodded. He extended his hand to call Keyleth over, wiggling his fingers.

“This is Keyleth,” Vax introduced when she laced her fingers with his. Up close, Keyleth could see the man’s glowing blue eyes and all the signs of someone who had a happy life, even if labored. “Keyleth,” Vax continued, pointing at the man, “This is Kerrek.”

“Kerr is fine,” The man said, extending his hand. Keyleth took it. The handshake was strong but soft at the same time as if Kerrek was holding back on her. His hands were calloused, and there was some dirt under his fingernails, confirming the hard labor Keyleth assumed he did.

“Nice to meet you, Kerr,” Keyleth said politely. Vax had never mentioned him, yet the man seemed to have heard about her. She tucked the information in a mental file to ask Vax later.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Vax asked, nodding at the building. The man nodded and replied with a wink, “Go ahead lovebirds.”

Keyleth blushed, but Vax chuckled. He looked at her nervously and pulled her inside the building with him, the door closing behind them. The temperature changed immediately, and Keyleth was forced to discard her cardigan with Vax’s leather jacket, leaving them on a bench by the door, and pulled the long sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. She then followed Vax down a dimly lit hallway to a second door.

“Ready?” Vax asked her. Keyleth swallowed hard and nodded.

Keyleth wasn’t sure what she expected, but walking into a brightly lit, hot and humid jungle was not it. The roof was a domed glass that let the bright winter light in without any of the cold, and everywhere Keyleth looked was covered with trees and plants, vines and moss. Once again, she allowed Vax to guide her down the tiled path until they came to a rounded room fully enclosed in class. In the center, a stone bench acted as a barrier to flowers and greenery, and around them—

“Oh. My. Gods.” Keyleth whispered, still not believing what she was seeing.

Butterflies—dozens and dozens of butterflies—flew everywhere, from branch to branch, between flowers and vines, up on the glass ceiling and around the walls. Vax led Keyleth into the middle of the room with a soft hand on the small of her back, stopping by the stone bench. Keyleth spun slowly in place, noting every color, wing shape, and different type of butterfly.

“You might want to close your mouth before a butterfly flies in,” Vax teased. Keyleth snapped her mouth shut but didn’t look at him, still mesmerized by the display.

“Vax, this is—” She stopped herself. A small swarm of five butterflies dove to her and landed on her hair and outstretched arm. Keyleth swallowed a squeal of delight as she turned to face Vax and brought a beautiful blue-winged butterfly between them.

“That’s a morpho peleides,” Vax offered. Keyleth nodded, still awestruck.

“Their wings aren’t actually blue, but—”

“Iridescent, yes. It’s caused by a diffraction of the light from the—”

“Tiny scales on its wings.” Keyleth finished. She looked up at him, surprised that he knew about it.

“I’ve been coming here for a few years. I’ve learned a lot about them,” He explained coyly. Keyleth swallowed, feeling a wave of warmth flow down her body. The butterfly beat its wings and took off to a high branch. Keyleth followed it with her gaze.

“It’s beautiful,” She whispered, still looking at the emperor on the other side of the room.

“You’re beautiful, Keyleth,” Vax whispered back. She whipped her head back to him, only to realize he was so close to her that their breaths mingled with each other. Vax brought a hand up to cup her cheek and leaned in, making Keyleth’s stomach jump.

Oh gods, is this happening?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. Yes. Yes! A million times, yes!

“Please—” She practically begged.

Time stopped, or maybe it was Keyleth’s heart that stopped. Something stopped, for sure. Keyleth’s eyes drifted closed, and she surrendered herself to the warmth of Vax’s hand on her face and the firm hold on her waist as his lips touched hers. The kiss started soft and tentative. As if Vax was scared. Keyleth’s hands slid up Vax’s chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, full of longing and something else Keyleth’s brain could not decipher in that moment. Some time passed, although Keyleth couldn’t tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or days. But eventually, Vax broke the kiss, his piercing gaze on hers, assessing her. Keyleth smiled against his lips, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. Vax opened his mouth to say something, but Keyleth shushed him before he could utter a word by kissing him again.

Keyleth poured all the intensity of her need for Vax into the kiss. Although she had no idea what she was doing, she had read quite a few romance books, so she pulled all that knowledge off the pages and kissed Vax passionately. When her tongue brushed against his lip, Vax opened to allow her in, the hand on her face lowering to join the other on the small of her back, pulling her harder against him. Keyleth could feel every inch of Vax’s body, her tongue thoroughly exploring his mouth until it met his tongue and started a dance she didn’t know the steps for. Keyleth stopped leading, then, and started following Vax’s experienced instructions. The heat on her body was overpowering, but it was Keyleth’s happiness that screamed the loudest in her ears, together with the thrumming beating of her heart.

When they finally pulled apart—when Vax pulled apart—they were both panting, eyes wide as saucers fixed on each other, and smiling. Keyleth willed her lungs to work faster and reminded her heart to slow down, lest she pass out from sheer emotion. Her legs were trembling like reeds on a storm, and if it weren’t for Vax’s firm hold on her, Keyleth would surely fall to her knees in front of him.

“That was—” Vax tried, but his breath was still ragged. Keyleth chuckled and nodded, rubbing her nose against his. Their breaths were warm and sweet like a summer night, Vax’s kiss-swollen lips so, so inviting. Tempting. “Gods, Kiki. You’re—” Vax didn’t finish. He leaned his brow against Keyleth with closed eyes and breathed slowly. Keyleth did the same, following his lead once again. He smelled so good and felt so warm and cozy, just like home. “You’re going to be the death of me, Keyleth.”

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth giggled. Vax kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” She confessed.

“Me too.” Vax tugged at the fabric of her shirt on the small of her back, twisting and turning the hem between his fingers. Keyleth gave him a questioning look that made him swallow nervously. Finally, after taking a long breath that puffed against Keyleth’s lips, Vax said, “Kiki, you know I’m in love with you, right?”

Oh. Keyleth’s heart almost leaped out of her chest. It was one thing to feel the love Vax didn’t hide from her, and a completely different thing to hear him say it (like actually say it). Keyleth let her hands slide down from his shoulders and splay on his chest. The jack-rabbit beating of Vax’s heart on Keyleth’s palm made her smile softly as she spoke, “I know. And I–I think I feel the same way.”

“You think?” Vax asked. His tone wasn’t mocking but uncertain.

“I’m scared,” Keyleth admitted, at last, the feeling she had been trying to repress for a while. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone before and it’s so scary.”

“I know,” Vax replied. His thumbs rubbed tight, reassuring circles on Keyleth’s back.

“My dad was so devastated when my mom died. I—I‘ve never wanted to feel that, or worse… make someone feel like that. I–” Keyleth hesitated.

“Yes?”

“I never thought I would have what they had. I never thought someone was going to fall for me, or that I would fall for anyone. I promised myself when I was young that I would never fall in love and yet…”

Vax smiled. He rubbed the tip of his nose on Keyleth’s and said, “I understand completely. You know about my father. I don’t have the best examples of what a loving relationship is. I never thought I would ever find happiness in my life, much less something so pure as love. We don’t have to be in a relationship, Kiki, but if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be with someone… yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Vax brushed a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Keyleth smiled fondly at him, basking in the feel of his touch, but her smile faltered as she asked him a question she had been dreading.

“And what if I’m never ready?” Knowing that Vax’s answer could mend or break their future was enough to send her spiraling, so Keyleth closed her fists on his shirt, keeping her aloft, keeping her mind steady and grounded.

“Then I’ll always be here as your friend. I’ll only take what you want to give, Kiki. Never more than that.”

“You would stay?” She asked, her voice wavering.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, Keeks.” Vax replied, kissing her forehead. Keyleth slumped into his embrace, sliding her arms under his armpits and holding tightly. She waited for the first signs of the imminent panic attack to retreat down to her stomach and vanish. Only then did she uncoil to her feet, releasing Vax completely, and smiled.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“You’re very important to me.” Vax pulled away, but instead of completely letting go of Keyleth, he twinned his fingers with hers and asked, “Are you ready to head back into the cold with me?”

Keyleth nodded and allowed him to pull her with him, retracing their steps to the back door, where they put their jackets back on and Vax slung his bag back on his shoulders. Kerr was still waiting outside, moving crates and boxes when they exited. He turned to Vax and Keyleth with a fond smile, dropped a box on the ground and walked to pat Vax’s back.

“Make sure you and your sister come over for dinner soon, will you? You’re welcome too, Keyleth.” Kerr added, turning to Keyleth.

“Oh. Thank you for the invitation.”

“I’ll talk to Stubby and let her know,” Vax replied.

“It was nice meeting you, Keyleth.” Kerr extended his hand. Keyleth took it again, shaking it softly with a smile.

“It was nice meeting you too.”

Vax and Keyleth spent the rest of the morning wandering through the multiple flower gardens, fountains and ponds, albeit sad-looking in the middle of the Winter. When the sun reached its apex in the sky, Vax took Keyleth by the hand down a secluded gravel path and into a small clearing of pine trees (the few trees that still had their canopies). Vax removed a thick blanket from the bag, spread it on the floor, and sat down, patting the ground between his legs for Keyleth.

“I should have known you were bringing picnic stuff,” Keyleth said. She sat between Vax’s legs facing him, her legs crossed between them. Vax took another blanket from the bag and set it on her lap, covering both of them.

“You think I would pass up the opportunity to have an outdoor meal with you?” He scoffed. Keyleth didn’t reply. She grabbed the thermos of tea he passed her and took a sip. It was sweet, just the way she loved it, and it warmed her from the inside out. Vax then grabbed two sandwiches and a bag of chips, and they ate while observing the nature and enjoying the quiet. They didn’t run into many people during their walks in the garden, which Keyleth could only assume was due to the cold weather and the fact that most of the plants were dead.

“We should come back in the spring,” She said after a while.

“I already planned on bringing you back.”

“So, what’s the story with Kerr? How do you know him?” Keyleth asked, passing Vax the thermos.

Vax took a sip of the tea, closed the bottle and set it by his side. He then lifted the blanket from his and Keyleth’s legs and gestured for her to turn around. Keyleth did, scooting and resting her back against his chest. Vax covered them again and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest on her stomach, where he started rubbing circles with his thumbs. Keyleth basked in his warmth. She could never get enough of the feel of Vax’s arms draped safely around her.

“Do you remember what I told you about what happened with Vex?” He asked her. Keyleth nodded. She knew it was a difficult subject for him. “Well, after all that, Vex and I decided to leave Emon for a while. We found this garden. We lied and told them we were high school students, and they believed us. Mostly because we looked like high schoolers. We found this spot right here, secluded enough that no one could stroll into us, and we made it our place. We had a small tent big enough for us and Trinket.”

“One day, Kerr caught me after the park closed, but instead of calling the cops on us, he extended a helping hand. At first, he invited us to have dinner with him and his wife. Hot homemade meals were hard to come by at the time, and Vex was getting thinner every day, so I said yes. They heard our story, and just like you, they grew angry at our father. But most of all, they felt bad for us and wanted to help us.”

“That’s really nice of them,” Keyleth said. Vax nodded. He buried his cold nose in her neck, making her squeal.

“They asked us to stay with them until we came of age, but Vex and I… we had been living on our own for a while, and we—we might have been too proud to take such a huge offer. But we did accept a job offer to work here, and we enrolled back at the highschool, using Kerr’s home address as our location. We often went to Kerr’s for warm meals and never refused their invitation to stay on cold and rainy nights.”

“Kerr and his wife treated us like we were their own children. We finally caved in and moved in for our final year of highschool. They even motivated us to go to college and helped us apply for scholarships and everything. Their house is a home to us.”

“I’m glad you found them. I’m glad Kerr didn’t call the cops on you.” Keyleth said, turning her head to see Vax. She nuzzled her nose against his jaw, making Vax smile.

“I’m glad too. I don’t know if we would still be alive if it weren’t for Kerr.”

“I’m glad you are. It brought you here… to me.” Keyleth whispered and gave Vax a soft peck on the lips.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?” Vax nuzzled against Keyleth’s neck. She giggled and nodded in response. “Did you make your skirt?”

“I did. But my grandma made my cardigan.”

“They’re so pretty. You’re both very talented.”

“I’ll make you something one day,” Keyleth promised.

“Are you cold?” Vax asked, tightening his embrace.

“No. I’m never cold when I’m with you. You’re always so warm and cozy.”

“Hmm. Same. You’re like a ray of sunshine. You’re so happy and cheerful. It’s contagious sometimes.”

Keyleth thought about his words. People often said she was a ray of sunshine, that she lit up any room when she walked in, but Keyleth didn’t feel that way. She was happy. Keyleth did feel joy in life and enjoyed being around her friends and family. It was the moment she was left alone that Keyleth dreaded the most. When she was by herself with her thoughts, her fears and grief. She had witnessed a few episodes where Vax had preferred to be alone, where his mood was extra broody and grumpy. She understood that better than Vax probably thought.

“Kiki?” Vax called her. Keyleth turned sideways, buried her head in Vax’s chest and grabbed the jacket on his stomach. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Keyleth mumbled against his chest. Vax’s hands cradled the back of her head and he pressed a kiss to her hair. He stayed like that and waited until she finally spoke again. “I’m not as much of a ray of sunshine as people think I am. I also have bad moments—bad days, even.”

“I know. I’ve noticed your moods.”

“You have?” Keyleth asked, looking up. Vax nodded and caressed her hair down her back. “You must probably think I’m a fraud then.”

“You’re not a fraud, Kiki. Not everyone can be happy all day, every day. I know you try hard to hide the bad side, but you can trust us… you can certainly trust me. I want you to be yourself when you’re with me, even if that means you’re picking at the skin of your nails or chewing on your lip and the inside of your cheek. I won’t be bothered by your jumpy knee or your shuffling around on your seat.”

Oh shit. Vax knew all her fidgets. Was she really that obvious, or was he just very observant? Keyleth always tried to hide her anxiety in front of everyone, and she was almost sure that she did a good job at it, but she had always been more relaxed with Vax. She had always felt safe with him. Of all people, Vax would be the one to understand Keyleth’s faults the best.

As if he read her mind, Vax added, “You and I aren’t that different, Kiki. Depression and anxiety often go hand in hand.”

“I suppose I might have some of yours, too,” Keyleth admitted. It wasn’t for nothing that her father had made her see a professional when she hit puberty.

“And I have some of yours. It’s perfectly valid to have them both, and if someone ever gives you grief about it, tell me, and I’ll punch them.”

Keyleth snorted at the offer. Some of the weight on her chest lifted, but there was something heavy keeping her from being blissfully happy: finals. History proved that academic high-stress situations were not good for Keyleth. “I don’t think you can punch our professors or finals.”

“Ah. Is that what’s eating at you? Here I was, thinking you were freaking out because I’m extremely handsome, and I make your heart almost leap out of your chest.” Keyleth looked at Vax to see him smirking at her. Her face reddened in response. “You’re going to do great, Keeks. You’re smart, talented, and a great student. All our professors love you. If anything, you’re going to do so good that they will need to expand the grading system just to accommodate your knowledge.”

“You’re exaggerating, Vax. I’m not as smart as you or Pike. And I’m falling behind in Anatomy. You’ve seen my midterm grade.”

“Fine, the human body doesn’t agree with you. Does it matter? Are you in Biology for it or for plants, Keyleth? Didn’t you say you were going to drop Anatomy next year anyway?”

“Yes, but I still want to have a good grade,” Keyleth all but pouted at Vax. Couldn’t he understand the high expectations other people had on her? She had always been a top-of-the-class student in high school, and people expected her to maintain that or do better in college, never to go below their standards.

“Keyleth, love. You had a 16 in the midterm,” Vax grabbed her shoulders and looked at her earnestly. “All your assignments have been above 18–and yes, it counts even if I helped you. Even if you have another 16 in your final, you will still get at least a 17 at the end of the semester. I know it’s not as good as an 18 or a 19, but you are still in the top five students in Anatomy, and I know for a fact that you, miss I-will-not-rest-until-I-have-straight-20s, are the best student in your degree.”

When Vax put it like that, Keyleth had to concede to his logic. She knew that she would need a really bad grade on her final to drastically lower her final grade in Anatomy and the general average, as a consequence, but even though it was a low possibility, it wasn’t impossible.

“Fine.” Keyleth pushed Vax away and got up, straightening her skirt. “I guess you’re right.” She said and walked away from him. Keyleth didn’t need to turn her head to see the look of confusion on his face, but she still peeked and threw over her shoulder, “Let’s go see the waterfall… unless you’re done with our date?”

She laughed as Vax scrambled to his feet and packed everything inside the backpack. He was by Keyleth’s side in a matter of seconds, holding her hand and dragging her down the path. Keyleth giggled at his reinvigorated spirits, feeling slightly better herself, too. Vax was right, she knew that, and while she still had a hard time letting go of that particular anxiety, Keyleth knew she had in him a safe harbor.

“Vax?”

“Yes.” Vax looked at her expectantly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I might barge into your room this month to ask for reassurance. Is that okay?” Keyleth bit at her lip. Vax let go of her hand, only to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her to a stop. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, giving Keyleth a soft, ghostly peck on the lips that made her want more, and said, “I can’t promise I’ll be decent, but my door will always be unlocked for you, Kiki.”

“Good,” Keyleth whispered against his lips. “I might come to collect some hugs then… even if you’re not–decent.”

The kiss was sensual and unhurried, filled with promises of more kisses to come, hugs to be given, and reassuring words to be whispered in the dark. By the time they arrived back at the apartment, lips red and kiss-swollen, the subject of finals was completely gone from Keyleth’s mind, instead filled with the scent of pine trees and snow and the wonderful time she spent with Vax in nature all day. A much needed-rest before the chaos.

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #modern au #college au #be in my eyes #three notes about this chapter:#1. I don't know shit about plants and butterflies. So if something is wrong don't yell at me #but feel free to correct me (gently. I'm sensitive)#2. the grading scale I used is from 0-20 where 20 is the highest grade possible.#this is the grading scale I'm most familiar with #3. The butterfly area was inspired by animal crossing new horizon's butterfly section in the museum.#particularly the round room with the fountain.#Also by the time y'all read this I will probably have some news to share :P

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disturbed-and-depressed · 2 years ago

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Nightmare

C!Wilbur Soot x Sally (romantic), Salbur x FEM!CHILD!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Wilbur blowing up L’manberg, nightmares, crying

[Requested]

“What are you doing?”

Wilbur froze in place at the sound of a voice. Specifically the voice of someone he raised. Someone Fundy grew up with. His daughter. “Y/n.”

Y/n stepped inside the small stone room. She noticed all the signs inside, but her focus was on Wilbur Soot and the button that was placed on a wall in the room.

Wilbur gulped. “Okay, I will admit…Do you know what this button is?”

“Yes.” Y/n had crossed her arms and stared at her father. “I do.”

“Have you heard the song on the walls, have you?” Wilbur glanced at them. “There was a special place where men could go but it’s not there anymore.”

“It is there.” She stopped Wilbur from continuing. “You’ve won it back, dad.” She glanced at her communicator and saw everyone spamming her name, specifically her little brother, but she paid no attention.

Y/n jumped in surprise as Wilbur yelled in frustration. “I’m always so close to pushing this button Y/n! I have been here like 7 or 8 times.” He covered the way that Y/n had walked in from, so now it was solely just the two of them. “They’re fighting.”

Y/n could hear the fireworks that came from outside. Even if they were muffled, it gave her a weird sense of security. Probably reminding her that as long as they were going off, it still meant people were alive. “You want to just blow it all up?”

Wilbur took a deep breath. “I do.”

“But dad, we fought so hard to get this place back…” Y/n quietly trailed off, trying to ignore what was really happening, her father was crazy. He wasn’t the man he used to be.

“I don’t even know if the button works anymore Y/n. I could press it…”

“There is a lot of TNT connected to that button right?” Y/n slowly came to the realization that Wilbur was crazy. He was officially crazy and there was no way she or anyone could bring him back.

“Y/n…There was a saying… By a traitor, once part of L’manberg. You of course know Eret.”

“Yeah.” Y/n whispered.

“It was never meant to be.”

Horror spread across the young girl’s face as she watched Wilbur move his hand and press the button. “NO!” She screamed. Y/n grabbed Wilbur’s arm and with enough force, she was about to pull him back so he wouldn’t be harmed by the explosions that rang in the air.

“Dad!” Y/n moved closer to the edge that now showcased the country that was destroyed. She saw a few citizens standing there staring in disbelief that their beloved home was destroyed.

She didn’t get to do anything as her attention was pulled back by her father, who was breathing heavily. “My L’manberg Y/n! My unfinished symphony! Forever unfinished! If I can’t have this, no one can.”

Y/n blinked trying to get rid of her tears.

Wilbur grinned and it came more manic-like and he grasped his young daughter’s shoulder, spinning her around to face him. “Kill me! Y/n, kill me! Look, they all want you to.”

She looked back and noticed the crowd was bigger than before. “No I can’t. You’re my dad!”

Wilbur’s smile faded and he soon became angry. He narrowed his eyes and began trying to pull Y/n while she fought back against him. Neither of them realized how close to the edge they were until Y/n slipped, pulling Wilbur with her.

Y/n could feel her heart beating and the wind rushing past her ears. The last thing she heard before she hit the ground was yelling and calling of her name.

Then it all went black.

Y/n gasped for breath as she immediately sat up in her bed, her eyes shooting open. She brought her hands to her face in a panic, yet when she checked, there were no marks on her skin. No ash or soot or debris. She was alive.

Y/n’s head turned towards the door when it flung open. Standing there was her mother, Sally. Movement from behind her mother caught her eyes, and she saw it was her father, Wilbur Soot.

Y/n did the only thing she felt she could do at the moment. She began crying. What else was she supposed to do? She had never had a dream like that for as long as she remembered, most likely because dreams were kinda rare for her to have.

She felt herself being embraced by arms and pulled into someone’s chest. The scent of cinnamon and orange fill her senses. It was her mom who pulled her daughter into her arms.

Sally gently shushed her daughter, rocking her back and forth, trying to calm her kind down. She couldn’t recall seeing her beloved child like this. For as long as she remembered, Y/n had never cried, only really letting tears fall when her brother was hurt. It does sorta make sense, since Y/n vowed to protect her little brother no matter what.

Wilbur quietly moved forward, sitting down on the plush bed, slowly moving closer and bringing his warm hand onto Y/n’s head, lightly petting her hair.

A few minutes later, Y/n’s wails and sobs had tuned down to a small sniffle here and there. Wilbur had left and come back with a tired Fundy and steaming tea, setting the orange haired boy down next to his sister, and placing the hot mug on the nightstand beside the bed.

Sally kept running her fingers through the h/c haired girl’s hair. “Do you wanna tell us what happened in your dream?”

Y/n debated on whether she should tell them, but ultimately decided to just go with a blunter approach, and beg. “Please don’t leave dad.”

Wilbur’s eyes focused on his daughter, slightly confused. “What?”

Y/n cleared her throat and spoke up a little louder. “Please don't…don’t leave and start that nation you talked about with uncle Tommy.” She brought her head up and looked her father in the eyes. “I’m not being dramatic, I don’t want you to leave, stay with us.” Tears slowly started building up in the young girl’s orbs once more.

Wilbur and Sally shared a discreet look. Wilbur was set to leave tomorrow. Should he lie and tell his daughter he won’t go, but leave when she falls asleep, or comply with the wishes and stay with his loving family. Wilbur glanced at the clock in the room. It was 2 in the morning, everyone could get some sleep and then talk about it in the morning.

“Alright.” The brown haired man heaved out. “I’ll stay, and we can talk in the morning when everyone gets some sleep. I’ll call over grandpa and Tommy and Techno. Does that sound good?”

Y/n was desperate, so she would take what she could get on such a short notice. She nodded and slipped under the covers more. “Can you guys stay with us?”

Without a complaint the married couple turned out the lights and joined the warm bed.

Everyone was still pretty tired so sleep came easy, but the one question on the parents’ mind was simple.

‘What did Y/n dream about?’

#dream smp #dream smp x reader #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #salbur #fundy

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halloweenvalentine1997 · 3 months ago

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Scars Inside Pictures by Vivica Salem

In May of 2024, a month of rebirth and bright sky, I felt like a scar inside a tarnished gold picture frame. Forever captured, capsizing inside a life I did not choose. I long for somewhere halcyon and idyllic. Violet lights, a place without teeth in the center of its heart.

I’m an adult still living with my parents. I’m a felon who is not allowed to live anywhere else. Many apartment applications were denied, despite the pettiness of my felonious behavior. In May, I was obsessed with a man I shall not name. His perfect self on Instagram filled my rotting soul with iridescent butterflies, even though he doesn’t live in my awful hometown and I’ve never met him. I saw him on TV.

I have no interest in dating the men who live around me. The people I’ve wanted to fuck are either dead or famous. In the middle of May, I sent hatemail to the official website of this man I was obsessed with. What I told him (out of jealousy and spite) is too barbaric to describe. Afterwards, I quickly fled the house I grew up in.

I walked past flowers and traffic lights and picture windows until I reached downtown at the bottom of the hill. I found the park with a creek running through it like a liquid spine. It is adjacent to one of the local hospitals, Sacred Heart Medical Center. The world blurred and became liquid salt in my eyes as I allowed myself to rest for a moment. I decided to relapse on methamphetamine, my former drug of choice. Before that relapse, I had been clean from it for two years.

So I went to an old haunt of mine, the freight train bridge by the men’s homeless shelter. I bought ten dollars worth of meth outside the 7-Eleven. I smoked several hits off a pipe with multiple people. We all had the same goal in mind: getting high off of hard drugs. I even tried some fentanyl for the first time. A partially crushed tablet that I smoked out of a meth pipe. I could not tell what color the pill had been originally because of the night and dim moon. I laughed in a gravel lot like a wolf, hallucinating. I felt so happy I could die.

I meandered around town for two days, unable to collapse and feel any of the sedating effects of fentanyl. After all, I did lace it with meth, which keeps one awake for a long amount of time. I tried to fall asleep at the women’s homeless shelter and prayed for the devil to take me, feeling no fear of what could be lingering beyond my tenuous life. I wanted to sever every tie that binds me. The obsession I had with that man was not the only event in my life to push me so far over the edge.

I might as well crawled out of a chamber in hell, somewhere that reminds people of names like Dante, Satan, Lucifer. I wanted to crawl out of that chamber in order to chase eternal peace and heavenly firmaments. Is it possible for the dead to haunt outer space? I longed to find out if I could inhabit a star.

Since I had medication to take that I did not bring downtown with me, I took the bus back to my parents’ house. I became violently sick and admitted myself into the E.R. In the waiting room, I was told my blood pressure was normal and that my organs didn’t appear to be failing. I didn’t come as close to death as I thought I would. I found a bench and curled up in a fetal position on it, unafraid of death as the voices and electronic beeps and swishing double doors whirled around me. I passed out willing to fade.

Later, I awoke in a room in the back of the E.R., an IV drip attached to my elbow. I can’t remember how I was escorted into that room from the bench in the waiting room. I don’t know if they had to wheel me there, or if I sleepwalked. I instantly recalled what happened with the internet and the drugs, along with a vision I had while I was unconscious. I was in a red hallway with white doors. At the end, a dead man I’ve loved a long time (who died before I was born) was at the end the hallway, a perfect picture framed by a doorway. The sky was behind him. I didn’t die. I woke up instead.

I called my father and asked him to pick me up. While him and me chatted with one of the nurses, I thought I saw someone familiar to me peering into the room from the doorway. He retreated from it instantly. What is he doing here? I thought. My life is so fucked up.

Once I was revived, I didn’t have any persisting symptoms of a drug overdose. Four months later, I’m not going to chase a fentanyl high again, because I’m glad I survived in the end. I haven’t done meth since then, either. I cannot allow myself to die like a prisoner behind a fence of concertina wire, in a box like a gerbil festering with rage.

I guess every obsession I’ve had with someone has died by now. I feel like being misanthropic and nihilistic is an ideal way of life. I want to avoid humans and disappear into isolated nature. Gone like a wisp of cigarette smoke, but still alive without a trace of me to be found.

#prose #9-19-24

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wall-legion · 2 years ago

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Look What You Made Me Do

If Odetta could have had her say, she would have permanently avoid Divinity’s Reach for the rest of her natural life. However, there were always certain jobs or tasks that led to her having to go back... or tried to, anyways. More often than not, though, she would find ways to get out of going back in person and she was usually fairly successful at it. Today, it seemed, the gods were set on testing her.

She was supposed to be sitting Vezz and Rissia’s twins in a few hours when the bird arrived for her. She untied the letter from its leg and put some seed down for it on the windowsill before she turned her attention to whatever it was she’d been brought. Her whole body immediately froze upon seeing the official seal on the inside of the document. She hadn’t seen the symbol of a hind on a heraldic shield except in her nightmares, and even that hadn’t been for a couple years. How had that woman found her? Why did she want to even find her anymore? It had been ten years... Breathe, she told herself firmly. It might not be from her. It might be from one of their children. She forced her eyes past the seal and down to the actual text below. Dear Ms. Swanheart, the letter read. You are cordially invited to the Jeffer home for an afternoon tea. Please join us by 3 tomorrow afternoon. We look forward to seeing you. There was no signature. She stared at it for a long moment, before grabbing a blank scrap of parchment and a quill. She scribbled “I need to meet you but I cannot take care of the twins, I will be there shortly” out, before summoning her own bird from its roost in the tree outside her apartment window. “Take this to Vezz,” she said while stroking its forehead. “To Vezz in Applenook. To Rissia if you cannot find him.” The bird chirped in recognition and took off through the open window, which she shut behind it with shaking hands. She hoped that old wand and focus were still in the bottom of the trunk at the foot of her bed where she’d left them. === It was an hour after the bird had arrived at their house that Vezz finally saw her coming up the path from Lion’s Arch. Rissia had the children inside, and when he saw her Vezz was suddenly grateful that she’d opted for that. Their usually cheery and kind looking babysitter appeared anything but as she walked up with furrowed brow and wearing her complete kit, weapons on either hip. “I hope it’s nothing I’ve done,” he tried to joke. “No,” she said. “Read this.” She put her hand out, holding a scroll that appeared to have been crumpled slightly from being clenched in her fist. He took it and scanned it, about to ask why she was dressed for a fight when she was invited for tea when he spotted the name. “Jeffer. The same..?” She nodded. “It’s their family heraldry. If it isn’t them, it’s someone who knows exactly how to mimic their formal invitations.” He made a thoughtful noise. “Curious. And you plan to go in swinging, it seems?” “Well I certainly don’t think that Lady Elena is inviting me over to officially apologize for nearly marrying me off to that man.” “The odds do seem low in that respect as well.” He scratched behind one ear. “Well, if you’re set on going, I suppose I’m going with you.” She looked as if she was setting up for something else, but his comment caught her entirely off balance. “What-?! No! You can’t! What about Rissia or the children?” “They’ll be perfectly fine. They’re going to stay here.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” He grinned a little, reminded of the Odetta he’d first met: seventeen and trying so hard to seem like she was so grown up, so authoritative, when she was really sweet and just wanting to be liked. “They’ll be fine because I’m going to make sure you come back.” Her shoulders finally relaxed, and her lower lip started to tremble. “Vezz...” “Don’t you start crying. I’m going to go inside and pack my things, and then we’ll go over to Lion’s Arch so we can gate to Divinity’s Reach and give that woman a piece of your mind. And mine if she needs seconds.” He waited until she nodded, and then went into the house. He took a moment to explain what was happening to Rissia, before taking down his greatsword and packing up some supplies, and then kissed the twins before he stepped back outside. “Ready?” “Of course.” “Then let’s be on our way.” === Divinity’s Reach was gray and rainy as they passed through the asura gate, causing Vezz to flick his ears intermittently as they started down towards the neighborhood where the Jeffer manor was located. He glanced up at Odetta as they walked, expression thoughtful before he spoke up. “Aren’t you getting cold..?” “I’ll be fine,” she said, not looking at him as she answered. Though she had all her armor on, she hadn’t opted for a cloak: she planned on Lady Elena seeing exactly what she had grown into, as soon as possible. “We’ll be inside soon enough, and home again after that.” “You certainly don’t seem to be planning on dawdling.” “Not if I can help it.” “Odetta.” He grabbed her wrist. “If you’re thinking of doing what I think you are, I’m speaking from experience when I say it doesn’t fix anything. It just creates more demons for you to run from.” She looked down at him, frowning before closing her eyes and looking hurt. “I just... I just want her to leave me alone.” “I know. But that path won’t serve your purpose. Frighten her, certainly; but do not kill her.” She was quiet for a long moment before nodding, and he patted her arm. “There we go. You’ll be fine, I’m with you.” “Thank you, Vezz,” she whispered. “You’re welcome. Now let’s go terrify that old hag.” “Vezz!” He cackled. “You cannot tell me she hasn’t earned that. Now get your cloak out and put it on already. You’ll be able to do a dramatic reveal that way.” “Oh please.” She rolled her eyes, but did get her cloak out of her bag and tie it around her shoulders before putting the hood up. From there, they walked in silence again until they reached the front gate of the Jeffer estate. They let themselves in, but as soon as they did something felt unsettling, as though they had stepped into the remains of a necromancer’s miasma trap. Odetta’s fists tightened so hard that her nails started to bite into her palms and draw blood, and Vezz reached up again to rest a hand reassuringly on her arm again. She breathed out shakily after he did, and strode to the front door to ring the bell. The door opened slowly, revealing the interior of the house in a state of disrepair and ruin. Odetta let a gasp out in horror and shock: initially at the appearance of the interior, but then at the figure who shuffled out from behind the door. It was an undead human, dressed in tattered men’s dress clothes with a tarnished badge on the chest. “Oh gods,” she whispered. “Uther?” There was a groan from the undead, who cocked its head at her before it shambled further into the dilapidated home. Vezz glanced up at Odetta, who stepped inside after swallowing hard. “I thought you said she was a mesmer,” he muttered as he jogged after her. “She is,” Odetta answered. “I don’t know how or why Uther was turned into... that. But whoever did that to him needs to answer for it.” She quickened her pace and Vezz internally groaned, jogging a little faster to keep up. They searched the entire downstairs of the home without any luck, seeing only more and more rot and destruction the further they looked around, and took to the upstairs to go through that. Odetta kept her eyes on the floor going past Lady Elena’s bedroom out of habit, but Vezz paused at the door and frowned. Something in there felt dark, and chilled, and empty. In short, like his own necromancer magic. He whistled, the old two note “come here” call that he and Odetta had used back in the day, and he watched as her head whipped around to look at him. He pointed at the door and whispered, “Whoever’s done that to your friend, I think they’re in there.” Odetta looked from him to the door, pulled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. She then walked down the hall and opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, steeling herself for whatever she might find. In spite of the rest of the house’s terrible state, Lady Elena’s bedroom had somehow seemingly gone untouched by the decay and was still in its former glory: the four-poster bed was made up like the maids had been in, the art and knickknacks were all dusted and in their proper spots, the fireplace was cleaned and lit with logs standing by in case it needed to be fed, and the dressing table had all of Lady’s Elena’s brushes, combs and bottles of perfume and makeup still in the order she preferred them. After everything they had witnessed thus far, the pristine appearance of this single room felt entirely unnerving to both of them. Someone rose from one of the two chairs facing the fireplace, and Vezz immediately unsheathed his greatsword while Odetta could only take a step backwards with an expression of shock. “Welcome home, dear girl,” the man said with a grin as he turned to face them both, hand resting on the back of the chair. He looked like he hadn’t aged a day since she had last seen him, that day at that disaster of a “luncheon date” over ten years ago. “I didn’t expect you’d bring company with you when you answered the invitation. It would have been more polite to let us know that you had a plus one, don’t you think?” Odetta finally found her voice, though it was shaking. “What are you doing here? Where are the Jeffers?!” He chuckled, the sound low and nasty. “Oh, so now you care about their well-being. Well, since they didn’t fulfill their end of the bargain when it came to our little... arrangement, I had to deal with them.” He gestured to the other chair, and from it slowly rose Lady Elena- or rather, what could generously be called her. She did not look undead, but rather completely sapped of all life’s essence. A horrible pained noise escaped her as she finally got herself fully upright. “Lord Jaquin was an imbecile, and had no idea what his wife did to get him into my offices. He at least didn’t get in my way or hamper any of my projects, so I let him stay around as a potential scapegoat. That is, until you decided that you wouldn’t play nice with Lady Elena’s plans for you.” “Me?” Odetta somehow looked more shocked. “No respectable woman of a good station was going to marry the Duke Andry Vasseur with all the rumors swirling about me!” He smirked. “Especially when so many of them were true. You were such a wonderful little opportunity, my sweet. A girl rescued from the ruins of society by the nobility, brought up by a good family. I needed a wife to rescue my reputation. It could have been perfect!” “I would have never agreed!” Odetta shouted, hands finding her weapons. “I am not a token in your game, much less something to make you of all people look more appealing in some- some popularity contest! Now heal her, and release her and Lord Jaquin, or else I’ll-” “You’ll do what?” The Duke sniggered. “Do you really want me to think you came all this way to rescue a woman you hated? A man you barely knew? Spare me, girl.” He reached behind the chair, lifting a torch that appeared to have been resting there, and while it flickered to life with a sickly looking green flame his other hand went under his coat and produced a dagger. “You returned because you saw a way to end this, which is just what I wanted. And in a few minutes’ time, you’ll be under my sway just like Elena went. I always get what I want, Odetta. Even if it takes a decade of waiting.” “Odetta, he’s trained in scourge magic like Rissia has, be care-” Vezz started to shout, but a magical wall of sand struck him and slammed him into the floor. “Vezz!” She turned to look at him, and suddenly felt the weapons in her hands shake and pull away from her. “Lyssa’s tits, what-?!” Lady Elena’s hands were outstretched, and abruptly the wand and focus flew across the room and back to her. The Duke just grinned. “Why don’t you know, dear girl?” he taunted. “You have to commune with weapons take from another to bind them to yourself, in order to not lose them back to that person. If only you’d been taught properly. And mind your language.” Vezz pushed himself off the floor just in time to watch Odetta’s eyes narrow at that, as she untied the cloak and let it fall from her shoulders before opening one of her bags and summoning a shield instead. “Let Vezz leave,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I think not,” the man answered, “as I have need of the former commander.” “What?” Odetta said in unison with Vezz, who had finally gotten back to his feet. “Your friend has a colleague of mine trapped within his sword there. Really, a rather barbaric thing to do, but I suppose this isn’t the time for that little debate. Our mutual friend was working to assist me on a matter involving some custom golems when the former commander had his little meltdown at Thaumanova.” Vezz’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t possibly suggesting what I think you are.” “I thought asura were supposed to be the most intelligent species present on Tyria, rat,” the Duke responded. Odetta looked at the greatsword, then at Vezz. “...the kids?” When Vezz nodded, she looked back at the Duke. “You disgusting-” “You can call me names all you want,” he countered. “The problem of you two leaving here alive remains.” He swung the torch above his head, clearly preparing to attack again. “No, it doesn’t!” Odetta activated the shield she was holding, summoning phantasms to block his attacks and slow him down. “Vezz, I need your help!” He nodded and ran forward through the phantasms, swinging the greatsword over his head. Odetta turned her head as the attack landed, hearing the telltale shattering noise of her magic ending as the target of the attack fell. She finally looked again after a moment, and blinked in surprise. The Duke was no longer the robust, healthy looking man who had appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties when they had been attacking him. Now he appeared to be in his eighties if not older. Similarly, the bedroom was no longer pristine and perfect: the bed was rotting and falling apart, the chair had been torn apart by rodents, and mold and water damage could be all over the walls. “What... what happened?” Odetta whispered. “He was using necromancy to keep Lady Elena alive enough to also use her mesmer magic, I think,” Vezz answered, cleaning the blood off his blade on the man’s coat before turning to face her. “And you. What’s the idea of bringing out only a shield and no sword or back up wand?!” “I panicked! I didn’t know about her being able to steal them back like that!” He sighed. “I suppose I should have expected it. You’d not exactly a seasoned combatant.” He looked up at her, saw she was actually pouting at that, and started to laugh. “Alchemy keep me, you’re hopeless some times. Let’s get out of here so you can talk to whatever human authorities you need to about this and then we can go home.” After a moment, she nodded. “That sounds like a plan.” === “You’re done with the investigation of the Vasseur and Jeffer estates, then?” Countess Anise said without looking up from the documents she was reading. The Shining Blade officers who had entered her office saluted regardless, and the senior officer spoke. “Affirmative, ma’am. Everything checks out with the account given by that girl. The bodies of Lord Jeffer was finally found, buried under the stables of his home, and Lady Elena’s remains were found in their bedroom next to Duke Vasseur’s. The children of the Jeffer estate were notified. Ma’am, are we to charge this Miss Swanheart with murder..?” Anise looked up at that. “She just assisted us with solving the disappearance of two members of the nobility, that we now know to be extended torture by necromancy at the hands of another member of the nobility, and you’re asking if we’re charging her with his murder. Ask me that again.” “...no ma’am.” “Excellent. If there are no more silly questions, you’re dismissed.” She watched as they left, shutting the door behind them, and rubbed her temple briefly. It was going to be a nightmare to spin this up without the rest of the nobles all losing their minds and demanding extra guards on the streets (but only their streets)... let alone when that damned Logan found out that it was Swanheart who put down Duke Vasseur. He’d go before the queen and petition that the girl get a title, just so if she did he could come into this office and rub it in Anise’s face. Though really, Anise thought, would that be so bad for this narrative I need to construct if Jennah did do that? Orphaned girl mistreated by adoptive parents avenges them in spite of their past to save Divinity’s Reach from a monster. Maybe I’ll plant the idea in his head. Let him have this one. She reached for a clean piece of paper and her quill and began to write the letter to Logan, to update him on everything his little mesmer friend had been up to lately. She smiled to herself as she sent it off and sat back down at her desk, steepling her fingers briefly. “Well, Miss Swanheart. I hope you didn’t want to hide for too much longer.”

#odetta swanheart #keeper vezz #the duke #lady elena #REVENGE ARC #gw2 writing #(matpat voice) LORE

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