#'allow my smile warmer than the actual sun to dry your face as well as brighten your night'

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash with a fan in LA

[thewritingginger]

Will It Ever Be The Same? P.1

Ok I made the first part of this idea I had that was going to be a one shot but it was getting kinda long so here's what I've got so far!

The beginning was a trip for me to write/edit when I decided to change the tense it was in 🥴  So forgive any mistakes, I’ve read and edited this as many times as I physically could handle before I got tired of the words on the screen :)

Enjoy ~

Fandom: Blood of Zeus Pairing: Seraphim x Fem! Reader Word count: 4.5k+ words  Warning(s): 16+, Mentions of violence and death, Angst, Fluff, (More might be added over course of writing)

Summary: Seraphim saved you from a pair of boys when you were young and from then on your friendship grew. Everything was perfect till disaster struck, causing you to flee. It’d be 10 year till you saw each other again. Will this rekindled friendship grow to be much more or will it end in disaster once again?

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The midday sun was high in the sky, beating down on the flooded marketplace. There were stall keepers hollering their offers and deals that blended together with the rest of the nonsensical crowded chatter. “Make sure you keep up with me. You wouldn’t want to get lost again.” The boy's mother said, giving him a knowing glance as he refocused on their path.

He stood in a shaded bit by the shop hut as his mother was exchanging herbs and spices for coin pieces. His attention was then drawn to the sound of children yelling.

“Hey, wait up guys!” A girl, younger than he, yelled winded as she chased after a pair of boys.

“Leave us alone! We don’t want a girl with us, you’re too slow!”

“Yeah so go away.” A boy with sandy hair added as he shoved the girl to the ground. The duo started to laugh and make fun of her as she began to cry.

“Well that’s not very nice.” The boy’s mother said, breaking his attention. He turned to her with a raised brow.

“Well not like we can do anything about it.” He shrugged, about to walk away.

“Seraphim.” He stopped. “You should always try to help others if you can.” She smiled at him, sweeping her palm over his hair as she walked past him to the next stall. Letting out a huff he glanced up at the back of her head then back to the girl crying in the dirt.

Walking over to the two boys still joking and laughing he strode right up to the sandy haired boy and shoved him to the ground with a hard thud. “What the heck! What was that for?”

“Now you know how it feels to be pushed in the dirt.” With his hands on his hips Seraphim looked down at the boy then up to his accomplice - who took a step back.

“Whatever.” The boy stood up, dusting himself off. “Let’s get out of here, he can deal with her.” The two of them scampered off through the crowd as Seraphim turned to the sniffling girl.

Looking up she saw his extending hand. Hesitantly she reached for it and got up. “I’m… Seraphim.” He introduced awkwardly as she whipped away the remaining tears and snot on her sleeve.

“I’m Y/n.” She stuttered. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Yeah it was whatever. My mom said it’s good to help people so… that’s why I did it.” He scratched his head and looked around like he wished to be elsewhere than in silence with the snot nosed girl. “Well I’m gonna go, bye.”

“Wait!” She interjects. Twisting her hands together she then shook her head and looked down. “Nevermind.” Seraphim looked at her for a second more and before he could say or do anything else he heard his mother’s voice.

“Seraphim are you ready- Oh hello.” She smiled before looking down at her son. “I saw that some boys were giving you trouble. I hope my son wasn’t one of them.” Seraphim tsked and looked at his mom, a small curve of her lip grew while she kept her gaze towards the girl.

“Oh, no. He actually helped me, he pushed the boy that hurt me and got them to leave.” Seraphim gave a nervous smile to his mom when she raised a brow at him.

“Well I’m glad my boy could help you. I’m Ariana, would you like to join us for lunch?” His mother asked, which caused Seraphim’s head to whip towards her but she just chuckled sweetly.

“Uh, I don’t want to be a bother…” the girl trails off meekly glancing at the dark haired boy before looking to the ground.

“Nonsense! We would love to have you join us. Right Seraphim?” She places her hand on his bare shoulder.

“Yeah, sure.”

~~~

Seraphim’s mom directed the two of you to go hangout in the shade as she gathered a few more things.

Sitting under a tree, Ariana’s back still in sight, you and Seraphim were in silence. He was standing with a  stick in hand, prodding the ground and loosely swinging around like a sword as you ran your fingers in the grass picking at the small white flowers littered about. Growing bored you asked, “How old are you?”

“Twelve.” He responded, crouching down to look in the dirt.

“Oh well I’m ten.” You started to feel like he didn’t want you around because the conversation just teetered off from there.

About 15 minutes later you heard Seraphim’s mom “Okay, are you two ready to get some lunch going?” She smiled at the two of you. Walking a bit ahead of them you noticed Ariana whispering to her son before she directed you towards the entrance of the forest. “This way, my dear.”

After walking for about 10 more minutes you were in a clearing with a river and a small cave. “Wow, do you guys live here?” You asked, looking at the pretty flowers around the edges.

“Yes we do. You know Seraphim was gonna catch us some fish, if you’d like, I’m sure he’d enjoy the help.” You turned to join them by the river and you heard Seraphim give a quiet whine.

“Mom I can do it myself.” His mother just shook her head and walked away to get things together in their rock home. Then it was just you two. Again.

Maybe I should just go help his mom instead You thought, as you turned to walk away Seraphim interrupted you.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you gonna help me?” He asked, looking up from the spear he was sharpening with a pointed look.

“Oh I thought I could go help your mom. I don’t want to get in your way.” Standing up with a small huff he walked away towards the hut leaving you alone by the river. A few minutes later he arrived back, breaking your thoughts as he stuck the base of a spear in the ground next to you, his other hand holding another.

“Here. Now you can actually help me instead of standing around.” He leaned it towards you to take with a trace of a forced smile on his lips.

So for the next hour you were practically just standing in awe of how Seraphim stood in the gentle flowing river looking for fish and throwing his spear in the water. He even tried to teach you the best way to catch fish as well.  “You want to make sure you don’t disrupt the water too much when you move or you’ll scare them away.” You just nodded and focused on what he is doing in hopes to replicate it.

Standing in the middle of the river a few pases away from the boy you suddenly felt something slippery touch your ankle. Letting out a squeal Seraphim looked at you just in time to see you fall back in the water.

“Something just touched me!” Looking up with eyes the size of dinner plates, you just saw Seraphim laughing. Really laughing, with his spear in the water using it as a crutch as his head reared back. “What’s so funny?” You asked, your face began to heat up.

“It was just a fish you scaredy cat.” He said between laughter. “Are you okay?” He walked over to you offering a hand, much like he did earlier in the day but much warmer than before.

Standing up dripping wet you decided you were done “fishing” for one day. Besides, Seraphim had already caught five fish to your zero.

Walking back to the cave where a fire has been made you sat on a log.

A hand rested on your shoulder, “Here Y/n. How about you change into this and we can lay your clothes out to dry.” Ariana said, handing you what looks to be one of her simple cotton dresses. You accepted it and trudged into the cave to do so. The dress, as you expected, was way too big on you. You had to hold the skirt up so it wouldn’t drag on the ground as you made your way back to the fire pit. Seraphim was roasting the fish over the fire, snorted when he saw your new attire. You were right to think you looked ridiculous. “Y/n, you look lovely. Doesn’t she?” Ariana gave her son a look.

“Yup, she sure does.” He said, trying to hold back another chuckle. You just rolled your eyes at him and took a seat.

Ariana laid your drenched clothes out on a giant rock that was soaked in the sun's rays.

From there everything went quite smoothly. You actually ended up spending the rest of the day with them till the sun was beginning to hang low above the horizon. You honestly had so much fun. Once the newness between you two wore off it became much easier to talk and play.

After your clothes weren’t soaking wet anymore you spent much time after eating, running around in the forest and even playing in the river looking for cool rocks.

But all things have to come to an end at some point.

“Y/n, don’t you need to head home? It’ll be nightfall before you know it.” Ariana reminded the two of you of the time. As you walked back to the cave you thanked the woman for allowing you to stay. “It was not trouble. You’re more than welcome to come back anytime, I’m sure Seraphim would enjoy the company as well.” She smiled. The boy in question looked at her.

“Mom!”  He whispered, embarrassed.

“Oh hush now. You should walk her home, make sure she gets back safe.” His mom nudged him forward as she left you two.

At that point walking side by side wasn’t too weird anymore. “Thanks for letting me play with you.” You said.

“Yeah, it was fun.” He smiled.

A few times throughout your journey home the two of you got side tracked, to look at different rocks, flowers and even by an animal passing by.

“That’s my house over there.” You pointed towards a modest cobblestone hut with a straw roof. “Thanks, again.”

Standing at the door Seraphim gave you a nod. “You’re welcome. See ya.” He turned but you stopped him.

“Wait, would you like to- Maybe we can hang out again? There’s a place over here that has a lot of rocks. Maybe you can find some for your collection?” You said, wringing your hands together, admittedly a nervous tic. He thought about it for a few seconds then nodded his head again.

“Sure, that sounds cool. But I should go now before my mom worries. See ya later Y/n.” He said with a slight smile and wave.

~~~

The next few weeks you and Seraphim began hanging out more and more till it became an everyday occurrence. After the first week Seraphim’s mom wasn’t even surprised by your presence.

“Good, you two are just in time to help me pick apples.”

That day you met their bears. It came as quite a startle when you just saw a bear walking up from behind Seraphim. “Oh my god, there's a bear!”

“Don’t worry, these guys won't hurt you.”  He said as he scratched the animal next to him. Taking a few experimental steps forward, the bear accepted your touch when Seraphim guided your hand atop the creature's head. It’s black fur was so soft you couldn’t help but wrap your fingers in it and smile. Then not only did you have Seraphim to play with but also a few adorable bear cubs to pet and roll around with as well.

~~~

Though all this joy would soon come to an end a few short weeks later.

You and Seraphim were fishing in the river a bit away from his home. That day he brought his bow and you your spear. You were actually getting better and even managed to catch one that day. Heading back to the camp laughing Seraphim stopped abruptly making you bump into him. “Hey, wha-”

“Shh.” He cut you off. You felt uneasy by the seriousness on his once smiling face. You heard male voices and then a woman’s cry. Sticking close behind him, he crept around the lightly wooded area of your destination. Peering through the foliage of the forest you saw that it was Seraphim’s mother who cried and she was with company that seemed less than welcomed. There was a group of men holding swords talking to Ariana that was kneeling on the ground before one of them.

“Where’s the boy?” The man barked.

Seraphim? You look at your friend, his eyes glued on his mom. The grip on his bow tightened.

“I swear there is no one here but-” Her pleas are cut off by a sharp smack, you saw Seraphim’s body tense as if he was about to stand up. You grabbed the cloth around his waist to silently stop him, your eyes pleading. He glared at you, eyes locked. As you are growing more frightened you can see the fire in him was building.

Your staring contest was broken by a new voice. There was another  woman the man referred to as Ariana’s sister. Your blood ran cold when you witnessed her apologizing before one of the men stabbed their sword through the back of her neck. Covering your mouth your eyes began to brim over with tears. Seraphim’s reaction was just as shocked till he saw another man grab his mother’s neck, strangling her.

Pulling out one of the arrows he readied his bow, his mother looked at the two of you with worry filled eyes. They were screaming for you to run, to leave before the two of you were hurt. Which was exactly what everything inside you was telling you to do but your body felt numb and unable to move. You were then soon brought back to earth when Seraphim released the arrow into the back of that man’s skull, the head sticking out his mouth.

Before climbing the tree he shoved you to the ground. “Get out of here!” His command startled you. You couldn’t just leave him.

After that everything happened so fast it felt like daze. First the bears you’ve played with countless times charged in mauling the men as Seraphim shot arrows at others. Then everything slowed when you saw your friend racing towards his mother as the man in charge grabbed her and sliced his blade across her throat, a wicked grin you’ll never forget played on his lips. Your heart broke for the loss for your friend and from his cry.

You wanted to look away or run, anything besides watching this nightmare playing out before you. The family you found was getting cut down one by one. The bears, Ariana, and all that was left was Seraphim.

You wanted to scream. Get to him. Anything to stop what was happening in front of your eyes. But you couldn’t. What could’ve you done? You could barely catch a fish without Seraphim’s help so you were forced to watch him face off against a grown man with a sword. This can’t be happening! Run! Your mind was pleading but you were frozen in fear once again. No matter how much you prayed to the gods it was all a dream and to make it stop, it didn’t.

Then in a horrifying moment you witnessed the vicious man’s blade strike down Seraphims face. He fell and so did you. Hiding behind the bushes your palms cupped over your mouth, trying to muffle your tears and quickened breath. Then once more a fire was lit under your ass when you heard more screams from the men and the roar of another bear. This time you got up and ran like Seraphim told you to. Glancing back all you saw was someone riding away on a horse and the blurred image of two figures crumpled on the ground.

~ 10 years later ~

For the past few years you’ve been working odd jobs where you can to earn coin. You’ve swept shop fronts, washed and fed horses, and stocked shop stalls with newly delivered goods.

At the moment you were working at a small tavern, filling drinks and cleaning tables.

You were out front serving a couple when you heard some commotion.

“Hey! Watch where you are going asshole!” A man yelled to another.

Probably just a drunk that wasn’t watching where he was going and is looking for a fight. The man just tsks, “Freak.” Before walking past you. Looking up, you catch a glimpse of the man he was referring to as he was pulling his hood back up. You paused. 

That guy- 

But you’re pulled from your thoughts by a voice. “Excuse me.” An older woman calls you, cup held up. You sighed and got back to work.

~~~

Another long day of work is over, thankfully. “Okay, I’m heading home. See ya tomorrow.” You wave to your friend as you leave through the back of the tavern. Turning the corner you see a large figure in a cloak. It resembles the man you couldn’t shake from your thoughts some weeks ago. You decide, against your better judgment, to take a detour and circle around a building hoping to be in a position to catch another look at his face. You don’t allow yourself a moment to really answer yourself as to why it was so important, you just let your legs guide the way.

Crossing the road, the evening sun casting it in a warm orange glow, you stopped at an abandoned stall that was shaded behind the building, trying to get a look of him from the corner of your eye.

Then your eyes locked!

You looked down and tried to walk away as nonchalantly as possible but you were stopped by a booming voice.

“Why are you following me?” The mystery man asks. You froze, turning on your heel to face him. You are about to respond when your words get caught in your throat. You must’ve looked like an idiot with your mouth ajar. It can’t be, can it? He gives a tsk as he begins to step away

“Seraphim?” You finally say. It came out as more of a whisper to yourself but he must’ve heard cause now it was his turn to freeze. You shake your head, That’s ridiculous! “I-I’m sorry. I must have the wrong-”

“How do you know my name?” He cuts you off, turning towards you, advancing a few steps. His build is much more threatening at a closer distance and his question certainly didn’t help. Though it was more of a command. You just open and close your mouth to find the words. Any words, literally anything at all would work just so you could stop looking like a fool that hit their head. Which you might have because this can’t be happening.

“Is it really you?” He just squints his eyes. “You remember me right? We played together a lot as children.” You can tell your words have begun to sink in the more his eyes scanned you, his face drops. Standing there, nerves getting the better of you, you began to rub your palms together awaiting his response. You’d be relieved even if he just spat a “fuck you” in your face cause than atleast there wouldn’t be this deafening silence. Unable to keep his gaze you look away but you can still feel his eyes burning a hole into the side of your head.

“…Y/n?” He finally says. Your name travels hesitantly past his lips. You feel like you might pass out or scream or just simply cry cause it’s him. It’s really him!

His expression reads the same as yours. For a final silent second of looking over each other you take a tentative step towards him, he stays like a statue.

Standing before him you think about touching him.

He is just like you remember, minus the height and strong build, his tanned skin and long brown hair you were always so jealous of. Though when your eyes reach his face yours falls, he notices and turns his away slightly.

His eye.

The right one is the same hue of obsidian as you remember but his left is cut through with a scar and left white.

That must have been from that day. You shudder at the thought.

Reaching up your palm grazes his cheek, he stiffens from your touch. You don’t know why you did that. Maybe you just needed proof that this wasn’t all a dream. That your old friend really is flesh and blood before you.

Turning his gaze to yours, you tilt your head taking him in. He really is the Seraphim you remember just… hardened.

“I- I thought you died.” You say, voice threatening to cry, because perhaps some part of him did that day and in the years apart.

He stays silent a moment longer, you assume it’s due to the similar shock you’re feeling. But then he pulls your hand away before turning. “You’d be better off keeping it that way.”

His body moves further into the shadows and you feel your blood begin to heat up. Does he really think he can just walk away like that?

Stomping after him you catch his shoulder and spin him back towards you, his brows raised. “What’s the big idea? What do you mean I should keep it that way?” Your hands are on your hips, chest is heaving. Unsure as to why you’re reacting like this you just keep your eyes locked with his.

“Do you have any idea how many nights I spent beating myself up for not going to you? The countless years I’ve spent wishing I could see you again? Just for you to tell me, now that that would be possible, that it’s better that I think you dead?”

After your outburst your arms drop to your side. You look up hoping to halt the tears threatening to seep out and just when you were about to tell him to forget it he responds.

“I don’t know what you’re hoping for Y/n but -” He trails off.

“You want to know what I was hoping for? That you were alive and I could see you just one last time even if that was all I’d be allowed.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “Call it pathetic if you want but… you were my only friend and I missed you. I mean it became pretty lonely without you.” You wipe away a loose tear that betrayed your will.

“Then what do you want?” He asks. You look back up with glossy eyes.

“Meet me tomorrow. I have work but I’ll be off two hours till nightfall and if either of us wants to leave after, then that will be that.” You say matter of factly with your hands on your hips. Another moment passes with him in silence. You let out a defeated sigh. “You know what, forget it.”

“I never said no.” His eyes bore into you in thought before continuing. “Meet me at the river.”

And that was it.  He turned and walked back into the dimming streets, hood pulled high before you could say anything else.

So to say you were a bit shaken would be an understatement. Walking home you just kept replaying the image of his face and his voice.

He’s changed so much. Well of course he has, it's been a decade since you last saw him. He’s practically a stranger at this point.

A stranger…

And you’re going to be meeting with said stranger at the river before dusk tomorrow. Leaning against the door of your home you knock the back of your head against the wood. Y/n, what have you gotten yourself into?

Getting through the door you just flop yourself onto your bed, not bothering to change. The whole night was spent tossing and turning thinking about the coming day.

This is a bad idea! You don’t even know him. I mean sure he is your friend but what if he isn’t the boy you remembered? What if things are weird? What if he’s... different?

You somehow managed to sleep, though your unconscious mind was still spinning with thoughts of Seraphim. You had a dream, a memory actually. One you almost forgot.

~~~

You were running around in the forest like you guys did countless times. But this time the two of you were ‘battling’ but you were doing a lot more running than fighting.

“Come back and face me! For I the mighty Seraphim will take you down!” The raven hair boy declared boisterously, making you laugh. The air was filled with the sound of rustling leaves and laughter from the two of you. You saw a clearing up a head which would make a perfect arena. However, you didn’t make it there before your foot got caught on an outstretched tree root. Tumbling to the ground you let out a small cry. “Y/n! Are you okay?”

Seraphim kneeled beside you on the damp earth. Looking you over he sees you clutching your knee to your chest. “Let me see it.” He said. You removed your hands to show him, you scraped your knee pretty badly. It was starting to bleed a little but nothing too unmanageable. “Stay here, I'll be right back.” He instructed before rushing towards his home.

About 10 minutes passed and your tears had stopped, though you were sure your eyes were red and your nose snotty. You hear rustling coming towards you and looking up you see the boy returning with a small pale of water and a cloth. “My mom is still at the market so this is the best I could do.”

He soaked the clean cloth in the water and started to wipe your wound. “OUCH!” Your knee jerked away from his touch.

“Sorry. But you need to wash it so it doesn't get worse.” You nodded your head and allowed him to continue. You kept wincing and hissing every so often.

Whilst cleaning your knee Seraphim saw you had a big splinter. “Uh this might hurt but I’ll do it quickly.” He tried to reassure you. Bracing yourself he took out the small piece of wood, you actually started to cry again - which felt embarrassing.

Once your knee was as clean as he could get it he then wrapped the clean side of the cloth around your knee. “Are you okay?” He asked, his onyx eyes laced with concern.

“Yeah, thanks.” you sniffle, wiping away the tears from your cheeks. Seraphim leaned towards you and placed a small peck on your cheek, which startled you. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, well I uh- you were hurt so I gave you a kiss better.” He hastily stuttered as he got up and dusted himself off. Without looking at you he extended his hand for you to take. “We should head back, my mom should be there by now.” He then took your hand and started walking back.

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Wow. Okey if you made it through that I hope you enjoyed it. This start feels a bit rocky but lets hope it only goes up from here 😅  

I’m definitely more of a One shots & HCs kinda girl not a big Fic writer, perhaps that’s because I haven’t done much multi part/”chapter” writing before so 🤷🏻‍♀️

If you enjoyed this let me know your thoughts :3

💛 ~

~ Masterlist ~

[enochianribs]

Chapter 2 of the Cabin AU is up now!

Read on Ao3 here, or under the cut. 

(Reblogs appreciated!)

The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered.  The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered. 

 “Mmm...great.” Another item on his to-do list. 

 Dean was willing to bet there were more leaks in the living room. 

For a moment he debated allowing himself to be lulled back to sleep. It was all too easy to slip back to that dream again: blurry hands, soft mouths, quiet murmurs, everything he missed and everything he’d never had. Not really. 

 Rain gently pattered against the outside of the cabin, the storm grinding in from the East and then settling its haunches right over the hills to stay for the night. The sun was rising, and the pink sky cast shadows from the drops on the window pane, little spots phantom dripping down his sheets. 

 It was the first morning since he’d gotten to the cabin that he’d slept in past sunrise. Sluggishly, he sat up, diggin the heel of his hand into his eyes as a yawn fought its way out of his chest. He turned his head, and reached out with a hand to wake his companion, before reality caught up with him and his hand fell to the mattress, going through the ghost.

 That’s right , he thought. His mouth tasted like ash.

 If he laid there any longer his chest would become heavy, and his breaths ragged, so he tossed the covers off, and trudged over to the shower. The cold water bit through the fog better than anything else could, and he leaned his temple against the glass door waiting for it to heat up and fill the room with steam. 

 Normally, he’d air dry, but it was chilly and an urgency hung around him. He grabbed the bleach-spotted towel hanging sadly by the door towelled off quickly. 

He wandered idly, picking his daily morning tasks up and dropping them before he’d complete them. Something pulled him around the house. He was forgetting something.

Dean was midway through folding the quilt and draping it on the sofa arm when they caught his eye. 

Two large feathers sat in the middle of the massive dining table (he still wondered who had built and what they’d been thinking—  the thing could seat the knights of the round table if necessary). Tugging the fridge door with one hand he reached blindly for the pot of coffee he kept iced, and nudged it closed with his knee, never taking his eyes off them. 

They were captivating. He continued to stare as he poured himself a cup, spilling some of the coffee onto the counter. He’d forget to clean it up, and it would stain, but that was okay. If they asked, he was experimenting with wood staining.

Dean could examine them once he made himself some kind of breakfast. Those were the rules: remember to feed yourself, and then you can do whatever you want to with your day. Breakfast ended up being toast and jam, and he plopped it down at the end seat of the table, and reached for the feathers before he took a bite. 

The color on the first one was so dark it looked heavy, but it was as light in his hand as any feather should be. He held it up and squinted, twisting his wrist back and forth. It caught the light and reflected a shimmering oil slick back at him. The colors shifted, hues iridescent.

 At first glance it could be a raven’s, but it was at least four times bigger than that.

 The second one was more muted, the black towards the base of it dappled into a brown and white, and it was downy soft where the other was sharp and precise. Yesterday he’d thought it was grey but better light proved that it was a grey-brown.

He’d assumed that it was from the same bird—  creature , but now he wasn’t so sure. Dean didn’t know the first thing about birds. However, he knew several people who did. 

▵▿▵

“Hey, Bobby. Can I talk to Rufus?”

“He’s kinda in the middle of some’in’, Dean.” The roll of his eyes was audible, as someone yelped in the muffled background. “Can I call you back?”

“Please?” Dean asked, grinning cheekily even though he wasn’t there to warm Bobby over in person. 

Bobby made a disgruntled noise and paused, before sighing. “You’re doing the face aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. You never want to talk to me .” 

“You know that’s not true.”

“Hm.” Bobby replied. Out of spite, he kept the phone next to his face as he shouted for his attention. “Rufus! It’s Dean.” 

Ouch , Dean mouthed wincing at the volume, as he listened to the sound of two old men grumbling at each other before fabric shifted, and Rufus picked up the phone. 

“He lives.”

A smile burst its way through Dean’s concentration. “Hey Ruf, gotta question for you.”

“Coulda called us sooner. We were beginning to wonder if you’d sold the cabin and moved somewhere warmer with pink flamingos.”

The image made Dean snort. Him at the beach? Unlikely.

“Nope.” Dean quipped. “Still here and freezing my ass off. You guys ever think about installing a damn heater?”

“And pay that bill? Hell no. We added a fireplace, what more do you want from us.”

Good ol’ crabby Rufus. “What do you know about birds?” 

“A lot.” As per usual, he was being obtuse.

“Know of any big enough to leave behind two foot feathers?”

Rufus whistled. “Not in North America, unless you’ve got ostriches running around.”

“That’d be a negatory. So there’s nothing you can think of?”

“Nope. Did you find something, kid?”

“Holding one right now.”

“No shit.” He could hear the bewildered tone of his voice over the shitty connection. “Well, I guess keep an eye out. It’d be real hard for something that big to hide, and even harder for it to sit comfortable in those pine trees with the branches so dense. I’d say you’re about to make the biggest zoological discovery in North America in the past century. Keep us posted?” 

“Will do.” Dean said, and he heard Rufus handing the phone back over to Bobby. 

“Hope everything’s okay up there, Dean.”

“Everything’s peachy, honestly. Anyways—” He checked the clock on the stove. 8:30. The hardware store would be open in a half hour. “I’ve got some errands to run, so I’ll leave you to whatever it is a couple of old farts do in retirement.”

“Hey—” 

Dean grinned to himself. “See ya, Bobby.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

The line went silent, and Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket, bobbing his head to the side in thought. Though he didn’t get a definitive answer, at least the call had eliminated the options of native fauna. 

▵▿▵

At nine in the morning, Dean was usually one of a small line of people waiting outside Lafitte’s Goods to needle Benny’s brain for fixes and tools of the trade. Pamela was waiting against the brick wall, hand shielding the summer morning sun from her eyes, reading a 99 cent paper back with interest. 

“Hey, Pamela.”

“Dean-o. Call me Pammy.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. But Pam works. I’m not your mother.”

“You call your mom by her first name?”

“Fair point. What’re you here for?” She nodded her head and bounced off the wall, as Benny unlocked the doors. A couple of grizzled old men shuffled in ahead of them, beelining it for the plywood. 

Porch season. 

“Roof’s got a leak.”

“Leak season.”

“Apparently. This is the third one since I got here.”

She squinted at him, like he was omitting something important, and popped the bubble of gum in her mouth. Dean started to itch under her scrutiny. He hated being studied like a lab rat.

What was the woman? A witch? Why was she peeling back layers of his get-up without warning.

Dean coughed, and used Benny’s presence as an excuse to wiggle out from under her gaze. “Gotta—  yeah, see you.” Turning on his heel he fled towards the adhesives, face contorting with embarrassment. 

Holy fuck, somehow he’d gotten even more awkward. 

Dear god, help me. 

Benny never pried unless Dean seemed interested in offering up information, and for that Dean was actually incredibly grateful. Most days he didn’t want to talk about anything, certainly not his past, but Benny and his bushy beard and warm eyes had managed to wiggle through his walls, just a little. 

“Benny.”

Benny stared at him from behind the register, inquisitive expression considerably easier to cope with than Barnes' hungry expression. A friendly smile danced across his face as he assessed Dean’s no-doubt rosey cheeks. 

“She’s got her claws in you, huh.”

Dean ducked his head, glancing sideways at the brunette woman still looking at the different kinds of rope. A tramp stamp peeked out from under the bottom edge of her tank top. Dean tapped his fingers on the pock-marked wood counter and turned his attention back to his friend. “Is she always like that?”

“Sure is,” Benny drawled, ringing up everything Dean had haphazardly shoved onto the counter in his escape. “You just happen to be the newest, prettiest , plaything in Pringle.” The burly man winked.

 Pink crawled up Dean’s neck  from his collarbones and spread into his cheeks once again. Christ, there was no escape from these people. Still stammering, Dean practically ran back to the Impala. 

▵▿▵

 The phone vibrated in his back pocket. By the third ring, Dean had parked Baby in her usual spot, and he struggled to tug it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID. 

California. 

He pumped the window down, the air getting warm inside the car, and he flipped the phone open, inhaling sharply. He should have called before now. Shouldn’t have let so much time pass. In the fall, he’d be too busy to take any of Dean’s calls anyways. 

“Hello?”

“Dean?”

“Sammy.”

Several seconds of too-long silence passed between them. 

“Where have you been?”

Dean swallowed, thick, guilt permeating the small space. 

“Sorry, I just—” He didn’t have an excuse. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You still could’ve picked up the phone. I tried to call you about six times. You don’t always need to have something to say, y’know…  It just would’ve been nice to know you’re still breathing.” His brother’s voice was basically a whisper at the end. 

“I know.” Dean closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing shakily. “I know.”

“I had to hear it from Bobby. Dean—” Sam’s voice pitched up to that octave it always did when he was upset. “Dad’s gone again.”

Fuck. 

“And that’s fine. It’s not like I’m ten and incapable of caring for myself but I thought—  I thought he’d be back by now. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Shit, Sammy.” 

“I think he’s fine. He sent a vague text a couple of days ago, it’s just with school starting in two months I get worried. Not even for him, just for us. I can’t pay for school myself, and I can’t afford to miss anything because of Dad. If my grades drop, I’m out.”

“I know.” God, Dean knew.

Sam was a late bloomer for college. The kid was brilliant, but he’d been dealt a bad hand, and it was a miracle Rufus and Bobby had invested in a saving fund for the two of them decades ago. At twenty-two, Dean knew that he’d already had trouble securing the scholarships. Stanford wanted the best and brightest, not the kid with seven schools on his high school transcript and an overabundance of unexcused absences. 

The guilt piled up and perched itself on his shoulders until he sagged into his seat under the heaviness. It was his job to keep John out of trouble, not Sammy’s. And instead he’d run away from that responsibility. 

The repair materials sat in the backseat, and his heart twisted in his chest. The meadow sat peacefully in the late afternoon sun, just across the short distance of woods, and it still kept its secret. He didn’t want to go back. Not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of independence.

“Look,” He could kick himself for how his voice cracked. “If John doesn’t turn up by the end of the week, I’ll come back. I’ll help. Promise.”

For what it was worth, a facet of his brother’s relieved sigh sounded apologetic.“Thank you, Dean. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Okay then.”

“Bye.”

“Talk to you soon, Sammy.” Dean’s jaw clenched involuntarily, as he flipped the phone closed and tossed it against the passenger door. His frustrated shout echoed between him and the trees, but he didn’t feel better.

Always this .

Historically, John would do something stupid and irresponsible and Dean would drop everythign to clean up the mess and no one would thank him. Not really. That was fine.

Family was supposed to break your heart. 

 ▵▿▵

 The leak proved to be an easy fix. 

Dean fought the attic door that led to the roof, following the small staircase up until he was on the balls of his feet, head sticking out as he pulled himself onto it. The shingles were rough, cracked and damaged from the winters, and he scrapped the length of his arm against it.

 The source of the leak took only a minute to find. Five or so shingles were missing, leaving nothing but the wood underneath, which did nothing but absorb any and all precipitation. The rubber sealant smelled terrible, and he gagged dramatically, almost dropping the metal can in the process. Done applying, he plopped his ass down, determined to see it dry properly before he went back inside.

Half assing things had always resulted in a stern talking to in the least, and it had been something he’d struggled with growing up, his mind yanking him a thousand directions until his head was spinning and John was disappointed. 

Dean grit his teeth, purposefully dragging the raw scrape against the rough roofing, the burn biting through the thought, bringing him back down from that far off place he so frequently wandered to. He didn’t even know how he got there, but he found himself lost, shrunk down, smaller than the hand-me-down leather jacket he tried to fill.

From the roof he could see almost everything. It turned out that Rufus and Bobby’s cabin foundation was built onto a gentle slope.

The rain clouds had dissipated, migrating to the flat plains further south, and it left a crisp atmosphere behind. The sun poked through the remaining gargantuan cumulonimbus clouds, sunbeams gently caressing the grass. Grey mist rose from where the creek beds greedily absorbed the heat. It reminded him of the paintings of cowboys, sitting on a stallion, bathed in golden light, their backs to the audience, all the edges illuminated and throwing everything else into stark purple shadows. 

 The burn of the scrape subsided as a sense of peace settled Dean, his body melting into the shingles. An hour passed before his stomach growled, and he climbed back down for lunch.

 ▵▿▵

 Tapping. 

Tapping at the window pane only inches from his face. 

Groggy and only slightly encrusted (gross) Dean opened his eyes and was met by dark blue ones, a tawny human hand pressed up against the glass. 

 Dean’s soul evaporated out of his body, back pressed to the headboard as he scrabbled for the small knife he kept under his pillow. Before he could look again, it was gone.He launched himself out of bed, so very entirely grateful that he’d had enough sense to go to sleep in his boxers and his worn-out threadbare Kansas shirt. 

Holy hell.  

Fingers trembling, he opened the window, leaning almost all the way out, hovering a few feet above the ground.A single feather slowly came to rest soundlessly on the pine-needle carpet. The view from the window remained unyieldingly motionless. 

Black-eyed susans had begun to sprout in the shade, despite themselves, and now they quivered where they grew between the pine-roots even though the morning wind had not pierced through the woods yet. 

Craning his neck, he glanced up, half expecting the last thing he’d ever see to be a terrifying bird man staring down at him like he was lunch. Nothing. 

Dean practically fell out of his room, chanting under his breath in a poor attempt to calm himself down as he stumbled down the short hall to the living room. 

It’s human.

“No,” Dean spoke to the picture frames on the walls. He had no idea what he was denying, but the situation begged to be denied. He paced back and forth in the living room, no doubt wearing the floor down despite the fact that he was wearing socks—  the ones with the holes in the heel. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Oh my God, it was so very not okay. 

Suddenly, the couch seemed like the perfect place to suffocate himself to unconsciousness. Someone else could deal with this. 

 No , he thought. You wanted this to happen, you dirty liar. Stop panicking and deal with it. 

Wings was human- or at least partially human. He looked like a man. Dean’s thin eyelids fluttered closed, and the image was painted on the backside of them with crystal clarity. Square jawline, arrow-straight nose, curiously arched eyebrows…  and the eyes . They were so blue. And they had been looking right at him. Watching him. 

It was entirely ridiculous that his eyes overshadowed the massive lurking darkness behind him, of what had to have been his wings. 

A human with wings. 

This was crazy. Everything was crazy.

The way he saw it, there were two directions this could go: he could pretend he hadn’t seen anything, and this would be tucked away into the delusion box that he kept under lock and key at the back of his mind and he could grow old being none the wiser of whatever breach of reality this was, or he could go find it. 

The first option was sounding real nice. Normal. Well adjusted. 

He was well adjusted. 

Besides, Dean wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a dream.  this entire thing was a fever dream and he was in some hospital bed back in Lawrence, stuck in a coma. Dean pinched himself, viciously and stared at the white marks left on his forearm, helpless. 

Nope. 

“Okay.” He barked out a laugh. 

He should call Jo. 

After a few more minutes of pacing and hyperventilating, he decided against it. He would tell her—  of course he would! —but when it came up.

The Harvelle’s were good people and they’d shown him nothing but kindness. 

The situation had to be broached with care, or the small home he’d built in the life he wanted to live would topple in on itself, and the rubble and dust would drown him.

Trust issues were a problem of his, and he’d been aware of them since high school, when he’d had too many secrets to keep and any semblance of a support system was states away. 

God, he knew the way he clammed up was obvious, but sometimes he surprised even himself. If he was being honest, there was a lot more to it than a strong need for privacy. Didn’t matter though. In the end, after all the nit-picking and self beratement, it boiled down to fear. 

Jo could keep her mouth closed, but there was always a chance she’d accidentally tell someone, and there was a high chance it would be the wrong person. If he let it slip that this thing existed, who knew what would come packing. And he knew sooner or later, someone would bring the heat. Words got around easily in a small town like Pringle and he knew everyone would be at his door, wanting a chance to see the freak of the week. 

Which… was a thing that existed. A human with wings, that called the small clearing his home.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He felt protective over the man, almost ferociously so. 

The day’s hunting trip wasn’t happening— now Dean was paranoid.

What if he accidently shot him? Or scared him off permanently? 

His stomach churned, acid and bile climbing their way up his throat. The burn was familiar. Half his childhood had been spent subsiding panic attacks and anxiety, calming down Dad or Sam or both at the same time. 

▵▿▵

The tin echo of a gunshot managed to penetrate through the thick log walls of the cabin.In a heartbeat, he was scrambling for the ancient shotgun. The front door swung open, the little voice in his head told him to close it behind him, but his feet carried him quicker than his mind and so he left it swinging on its hinges at his back. 

An anguished scream gargled its way from somewhere deeper into the woods, due south of the cabin. Rocks dashed the soles of Dean’s feat and he swore out loud, having forgotten his boots at the door. 

Shit shit shit.  

Someone was nearby, and they were ballsy enough to fire a weapon despite the illegality of hunting on private property. His mind raced at the same speed he ran towards it, a limp skewing his gate every few steps. Stray branches caught the sleeves of his shirt, tearing through the fabric as he refused to slow down. 

It’s just a deer. 

He knew better. 

They’re just after a deer, or a bison that wandered away from the heard or an elk or something—  

Another blood curdling scream erupted from amongst the pine, this one loud enough to rattle the crows out of their nests. They cawed, the sound of dozens of pairs of wings taking flight muting the pained groans. 

He knew better. 

Please—  please. Not Wings.

He faltered over a boulder, panic overtaking muscle memory and skidded to a halt at the crest of a ledge. The scene below knocked the breath out of his chest, leaving a vacuum in its wake. 

Campbell, one of the more elderly hunters of the area was standing over another tawny body. Giant black wings sprawled out, twisting and twitching in the dirt and mud, feathers slightly splayed underneath his back. 

Campbell’s face distorted in pain, a tense moment passing before his wild eyes landed on Dean, the whites of his too visible, even from ten yards away. Blood pumped out from a wound on his neck, and he had a hand clamped down onto it, slick with red, he held a shotgun limply in his left hand, the butt of it dropped heavily to the ground. 

Semi-satisfied that Campbell didn’t seem interested in shooting again, Dean fixated every ounce of attention on Wings and his breath hitched. Smeared across his mouth and chin was a copious amount of blood. He’d bitten Campbell. Dean’s heart swelled with pride.

Good . 

His short encounter with Campbell prior had proved that the man was a bag of dicks, cocky and far too keen on the killing aspect of hunting. It skeeved Dean out then, and it certainly did now. Campbell was still looking at Wings like he was prey. Though no component of the scene begged to differ: the man was naked, teeth bared, but he was incapable of escaping, the gunshot wound in his abdomen bleeding him dry. 

Dean leveled the end of his shotgun at Campbell’s head. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Campbell backed away from Wings, the muscles in his right arm tensed, like he wanted to put it up defensively, but it was necessary he kept pressure on the wound. It looked like Wings had gone for the jugular. “It attacked me, Winchester.”

“And?” 

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Dean would put money on the fact that he looked the part, he could feel his chest heaving, something akin to dull rage pumping through his veins. He prayed the tremor in his hand didn’t betray his hesitation. “I said move .”

Obeying his orders, Campbell stepped back, never taking his eyes off of the strange man. Agony flashed across his face where he laid in the dirt.In his hands, he held a silver blade. Wings looked from Campbell to Dean, expression visibly softening.

“Give me your coat.” Dean didn’t have much time, glancing at Wings, he saw that a red gleam of blood was starting to trickle from the corner of his mouth and his eyes moved frantically. He slid down the slope and went to take off his jacket and remembered his was only in his boxers. “ NOW .” 

Campbell shirked it off and threw it at Dean, staying exactly where he was. Moving quickly, Dean pressed the thick fabric to the wound, moving his other hand to the back side to see where the bullet went. There was no opening there, and he was thankful that Wings was naked. He could skip the sometimes detrimental process of removing his clothes to assess the wound better.

 He tied the jacket around him and slid one arm under his legs and the other across his shoulder blades, lifting him up carefully. Dean had to get him back to his house immediately, before Wings lost too much blood.

One last time, he regarded Campbell. He felt the sneer tug his lip up, his voice like acid trying to eat through the other man’s bones until he was nothing. “Get the fuck off my property. And don’t tell anyone about this. He’ll be fine, not that you care. But you won’t be if I see you here again, or if I hear about this from anyone. Do I make myself clear?”  

Samuel’s eyes darkened clearly at war with Dean’s threat, but his skin was taking on a pallor akin to lethal blood loss. He nodded curtly, acknowledging the agreement, at least for the moment. 

Reasonably satisfied that Campbell wouldn’t shoot them in the back, Dean turned and left, the body draped over his shoulder too warm.Dean’s hand wrapped around, hand feathering over his taut side, avoiding the wound. He could feel his fingers wet with blood. 

Wings was whispering something feverishly, though Dean couldn’t catch a word of it, his eyes glazed over with pain, searching the sky for something with a fervor of a religious man with hell hounds on his heels. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean murmured, straining to carry the both of them the distance to the cabin. “I’ve got you.” 

Wing’s head lolled to the side, and his body went slack. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but Dean couldn’t afford to cry now. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to get them inside safely. He swallowed the terror. He ducked and wove through the undergrowth, fearing that the drooping wings would catch on a branch or boulder. 

The time it took until he could lay Wings down on his dining room table felt like hell had manifested on Earth, keenly able to feel life slipping away in his arms.

Once Dean managed to put Wings on the table without his head smacking the wood, he tore the kitchen apart for salt and a bowl of water and some clean washcloths, and sprinted to the bathroom, yanking the drawers out and emptying their contents onto the counter and sink until his eyes landed on the tweezers and isopropyl alcohol.

It wasn’t a perfect med kit, but there was no other choice. It had to do. 

Dean approached the table cautiously, worried that too much movement would set him off. The dark wingspan spread out almost three feet on either side of the table and Dean swallowed a stone.

He had no idea what to do next, not really. The closest experience he’d had to being a doctor had been treating John’s stab wound when he was thirteen and John had come home more beaten than usual.  

He stared helplessly down at Wings.  

“He...help.” Wings voice was like a ghost’s, he barely heard it, and he was standing right next to him. He looked up at the cobwebbed chandelier lighting like it was something holy and mesmerizing and Dean realized he was losing him. 

“Shhh… it’s okay.” His forehead was sticky with sweat and drying blood, and Dean pushed some of the unruly black wisps from his eyes, humming low. “I’m gonna help you.” 

Wings hand shook, following the edge of the table, feverishly searching for something to hold onto. Tentatively, Dean slid his fingers between his, feeling his calloused palm against his own. “Wings. Wings, you gotta listen to me. Wings, please . You have to lay still.”

He had no idea if the man understood a single word he was saying, but it seemed to do the trick. Over the span of a terrible minute, his breathing slowed down, and his grip on Dean’s hand went from frail to almost bone crushingly alive. 

Wings’ blue eyes were on him, flickering a little in the low light. Dean waited, untrained, unable and unwilling to play operation on him while he was still conscious, eyes desperate to look at anything but the daunting task before him. 

Eventually, he passed out, his painful grimace replaced by a soft one, and Dean began to remove the shrapnel bullet, praying to anyone who was listening that it had not shredded his insides beyond repair. 

 ▵▿▵

 At some point in the night, Dean had gotten up to draw the curtains and lock the door, willing to sacrifice only a moment to seal them away from the rest of the world. 

 Now, sunlight pierced through the cracks, illuminating them both in thin lines of white light. He watched Wings toss and turn, his face gnarling into pain each time he moved.

 What if Dean had fucked it up? What if the next breath he drew was his last? His mind raced, punishing him for every moment’s hesitation that could very well lead to his death. 

 Dean caught himself following Wings jawline, examining the stark contours of his face like he would never see them again. Please, just please make it out alive.

 “Don’t die on me, Wings.” The words slipped out subconsciously. “Please, God, don’t die on me.”

 Dean had the decency to cover him up with the quilt. The two’s hands were still tightly entwined long after the heartbeat in Wing’s wrist lulled Dean into sleep, tumbling heart over head. 

[olivinesea]

In the Golden Dark, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: This was already pretty much done so here you go. These parts are all rather short but that can be nice right? ~1.6k

i can’t concentrate if i keep seeing your face showing up in tea leaves lit up on my tv i can’t stand up straight under your gravity so i lay awake with my eyes closed

“Did you know 12% of people dream in black and white?”

“Wha-what?” Hotch groggily looked at the time on his phone. He had answered it blindly, autopilot kicking in to attend to the buzzing beside him on the couch. He blinked again and brought the phone back to his ear to hear Spencer’s voice more clearly.

“Yeah! It used to be a lot more when television was only in black and white but now that’s shifted obviously. Elderly people are still a lot more likely to have dreams that are—“

“Spencer,” Hotch interrupted the way the words were beginning to tumble out. When he was met with an abrupt silence he realized he didn’t have a follow up, he just needed a moment to breathe. To take in the dark living room, the flickering light of the television, its muted colors and grainy film showing a syndicated rerun, the kind only played in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, times when no productive person was meant to be watching. Something soft in its age, he found it comforting to put it on when he couldn’t sleep, woken again by nightmares that some monster had found their way to Haley and Jack. That they were suffering and he didn’t even know.

On the other end of the line, Spencer held his breath. He had been nervous about making the call, he wasn’t sure if it was too intrusive, too far across the boundaries they normally worked within. It wasn’t that he was worried about waking Hotch, he knew the other man was already awake. Even before they had started talking more, casually sharing details about the time they spent away from the office, it was obvious that Hotch did not sleep like a normal person. It was something else that they shared.

Seemingly endless minutes passed without another word from either man and his fear that he’d made a mistake grew. He told himself that Hotch was not pleased with the interruption. That he was being too assuming—why would Hotch be interested in anything he had to say at three in the morning? He’d called spurred on by the acute need to share a thought and, though he wasn’t totally conscious of it, a wish to hear that comforting voice, maybe even a quiet chuckle. He had smiled imagining that gentle sound, only he hadn’t realized it, the corners of his mouth moving without informing the rest of his mind. He touched his lips now with cold fingertips, running them over the dry skin, oblivious to the way his jaw clenched.

The silence between them hung like a bridge. There was a moment where both of them looked out at their respective living rooms, mentally steeling themselves to take a step and hope the other would meet them. Hope that they wouldn’t find themselves suspended over the water, alone as ever.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” Spencer sounded so remorseful Hotch felt guilty immediately. He hadn’t meant cause him any anxiety with his long silence, he was just trying his best to gather his thoughts. To make sense of what he meant to do.

“It’s ok, really, I—“ Hotch hesitated, unsure how much detail to go into, how much reassurance was the right amount. He felt unreasonably awkward suddenly and twitched his fingers in irritation, “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Spencer scrunched his eyes up, disliking the eagerness bleeding from his voice. He couldn’t help it though, the prospect of having the other man’s attention, even if it was only his voice reflecting from a satellite, knowing that Hotch was listening made him feel more secure. He’d spent too many restless nights pacing his apartment, starting and abandoning tasks in attempts to distract himself from the way the night was pressing uncomfortably close, threatening to overtake his mind. To have a friend to talk to, to reflect back his own reality, was a gift he could barely believe he deserved.

Hotch grunted as he adjusted himself on the couch cushions, supporting the back of his head on the pillows, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear. With his free hand he pulled up the blanket that had tangled at his feet. “Wide awake,” he said dryly. “What were you saying about dreams?”

Spencer’s smile was so big Hotch could hear it through the phone as the man stumbled ahead with the details of some completely unnecessary study. Hotch wanted to ask what had led to him reading such a thing but he was enjoying the happy way Spencer was running through all the new material he’d learned. He adored listening to Spencer speak, how he sometimes stopped short when remembering a related detail and how there’d be a pause while he took a split second to make the choice whether to jump to the new train of thought. Hotch smiled to himself and was pleased enough to offer hums of interest at inflection points. He let his eyes wander back to the television, as the title credits of another episode of Bonanza played across the screen, the pale wheat and horses and cowboys, already a distant fantasy in the 1960s, ancient history by today’s standards. His eyes fell half closed as he continued to listen to Reid’s voice.

“And, they just published a new study about how sleep deprivation decreases the body’s pain tolerance.”

Hotch snorted softly at this. “They really had to get a bunch of scientists together to figure that out? Someone paid for that?”

“Well it is always important to gather data and scientific evidence for these types of things. Anecdotal testimony won’t lead to any developments in the care for conditions like chronic pain,” Reid paused when he heard more quiet laughter from Aaron. He grinned.

“Do you want to hear something really crazy? They’ve found a connection between a person’s favorite sleeping position and their personality. Can you imagine!”

“Hmmph,” Hotch sank deeper into the cushions, settling in for whatever came next.

*

The calls became as regular as the midnight pancakes. Spencer would call with some piece of trivia, every night a new topic. He had a seemingly endless well of knowledge to draw on. In truth he spent the day trying to think of new ideas to share, new information he thought Hotch would appreciate. For no reason other than his own private satisfaction, he grouped topics thematically. This week they were going to be talking about space.

Now Hotch was ready, drowsy but checking his phone every few minutes to see if he’d somehow missed it ringing. He was looking at it yet again when it buzzed. He stared at the screen for a moment before answering, letting the name that flashed send a small thrill up his spine. He was not sure how it’d happened but he had come to rely on these calls. They still hadn’t discussed it, hadn’t acknowledged what this extracurricular time spent together might mean. They were simply seeking comfort, not questioning how this might be perceived outside these invisible moments.

“Hey Spence,” he barely got the words out before Spencer launched into that night’s prepared curiosities.

“Did you know most of the visible stars are actually multiple star systems? The singular stars are so much harder to see that astronomers used to believe that it was fairly uncommon to find a singular star like our sun.They hypothesized this was a contributing factor to why we hadn’t found evidence of extraterrestrial life. It is much harder for a planet to have the stability necessary for a habitable atmosphere with the potential fluctuations of a binary star system. Without as many single stars it made sense that it was exceedingly unlikely for life to form outside of our solar system.”

“I think it’d be nice,” Hotch murmured, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, ah,” Hotch stammered, a little embarrassed to have the comment acknowledged. He felt his neck growing warm as he tried to make out a reply. “Well, having two suns. I think it could be nice."
 “Why?” Spencer was genuinely curious.

“Um, I guess, I imagine it would be warmer for one,” he paused before adding on, waiting to see what Spencer’s reaction might be. He could almost hear the wheels of his mind turning with all the reasons Hotch’s logic was faulty. He hurried on before he became too self-conscious to finish his thought. “And, I’ve just never really liked the night, all the darkness. Maybe with two suns we could have a little more light in the world.”

Instead of responding, Spencer remained quiet, surprised by this uncharacteristically whimsical thought. Hotch could feel his whole neck had turned red, along with the warming tips of his ears.

“I—I don’t really like the night either,” he tried to sympathize. “It can feel…overwhelming.”

They sat for a moment, not sure where to take this or how the facts had turned into feelings.

“I’m happy I have you to talk to though.”

It was simple, but it was true and sweet and Hotch smiled, closing his eyes to better absorb the words.

“I’m happy too, Spencer.”

Now they were both blushing, the depth of meaning behind these brief statements readily apparent. For a moment, feeling the heat dancing across his face, Hotch wondered if this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe he was allowing things to become something irresponsible, something he couldn’t so easily walk back. He pictured Spencer, sitting across from him, animated and full of life, pulling further away from the shadows that teased around the edges. It didn’t matter, he decided. It didn’t matter what this was, only that they had found a hand to hold through the night.

“So, what else have you got for me?”

~Part 3~

[hunterbahamut]

"C'mon Zane!  Let's go!"

The Gorm groaned and twitched his ears as he followed after his excited friend up the hill.  "How did I let him convince me of doing this?"  He asked himself, though he already knew the answer to that.

Kaz looked back over to Zane, grinning with excitement. "We still have some way to go, but there's still some time before sunrise. We're making good time!"

"Five in the morning is hardly a 'good time' for anything, on Swog, Techkanis 9 or on Union." Zane said, letting out a tired-sounding huff as he looked up; it was the early morning hours, so the sky was still dark with a dark purple overcast.

Kaz let out a sheepish laugh, "W-well...the fresh air is nice!  It'll do us some good!"

"I don't need fresh air, I need tools." Zane remarked, rubbing his face.  "I could be working on things."

"You can't stay cooped up in your workshop all the time!"  Kaz said, pausing for a moment to let Zane catch up with him before they continued along the trail up the hill and started to walk into a grassy field. "This is a nice change!"  Kaz said, still smiling wide.  "We don't get to visit Union a lot, and this time we actually get to see the Dawn Fields!  This'll be so worth the trip!"

Zane huffed quietly, "Nothing at 5 am is worth it."

As he was grumbling, the two didn't notice the extra sound of shuffling grass moving towards them.  A pair of white and purple ears were poking out from the tall grass with a quiet "Baaam-dum. Baaa-dum." as they moved closer. Zane started to yawn out a bit, but that was when a small figure hopped out of the grass right in front of him, actually reaching his head.  "Hiya Zappybork!"  

"GAH!" Zane yelped, stumbling backwards a bit, waving his arms to try and keep him on balance.

Kaz spun around in surprise, "Saturn!"  He cried out, "You made it!"

"Of course I did, silly!"  The bunny said, hopping up again.  "I wouldn't want to miss this with you guys!"

Zane grumbled louder again, "Uuugh...nice to see you too." He said, rubbing his head.  "Did you have to scare the wits out of me like that?  I don't need to start my day off with a jump-start like that!"

Saturn giggled, sticking her tongue out at him. "But it's fun, Nyoomi~!"

The Gorm sighed, "Ask a silly question..."

The bunny smiled and giggled before she rushed over to Kaz.  "We better hurry though, it's getting close to sunrise!  Don't want to miss it when we're this close!"

Kaz nodded and he turned back. "Come on Zane!  We're almost there!"

"Okay, okay..."  Zane sighed, watching the two start off again ahead of him before he started to follow after them again.

The sky was starting to lighten up, the dark purple starting to grow into a lighter blue.  The dark clouds were starting to spread out, allowing more light to start coming through. The trio moved through the fields until they came to the top of the hill.  "Here we are!" Saturn said, smiling wide.  "And just in time!"

Kaz smiled, looking over the field.  "Oh wow!" He said, "This is a lot wider than I thought!"  He smiled, "Oh boy, this is gonna be amazing!"

Zane caught up with them, letting out a tired huff before he looked down.  "Huh, doesn't look like we're alone here."

Kaz looked down as well, noticing that some others had gathered as well.  It wasn't a huge group thankfully; a collection of Alliance races as well as some aliens. He was able to see a few recognizable faces as well.  "Are they here for the dawn as well?"

"Of course!"  Saturn smiled, "It's not every day something like this happens!  Some of us wanted to share that moment together!"

Kaz twitched his ears a little at that; the idea did make him feel a little anxious, but he smiled; the idea of so many being here with them to watch this was a nice feeling. "That...that's really nice of them."

Saturn giggled before she turned, "Hey look!  The sun's coming up!"

Over the horizon, the first fiery blazes of the sun started to appear.  The clouds overhead were all but gone and the sky started to warm up, the dark purple and blue shifting to warmer tones of red and yellow.  The sun started to climb up higher, shining it's light down over the hill and spilling into the open field ahead of them. It took a few moments, but soon the flowers started to bloom.  A wave of color started to wash over the area, covering the dark grass with an explosion of red, yellow and orange blossoms, filling the field with the colors of the dawn.

Everyone was quiet for a moment before there were the murmurs of wonder and excitement, watching the field come to life. Zane and Saturn stood next to Kaz as the Needlix looked on in amazement, tears filling his eyes as his smiled as brightly as the field.  "This...is amazing!"

Saturn giggled as Zane stayed quiet for a moment before he nodded. "That sure is pretty."

-

Time felt indifferent as everyone was caught in the moment, but soon the sun was high in the sky, warming up the area and drying up the last of the evening dew.  The sky was a bright blue with only a few scattered clouds in the sky floating by. Some of watchers on the hill started to pack up to leave, but just as many seemed intent on staying, including Kaz and Zane.  They found a nice spot by the trees to sit down and relax, seeming intent to just camp out there for the whole day.

"Are you going to hang around too, Sat?"  Kaz asked as he sat his backpack down.

The bunny nodded, "Sure!  Came all the way out here, think it will be cool to make the most of it!"  She walked over and sat down, taking off her own backpack. "I'm sure others will be coming by as well to check out the sight and pay us a visit."

"O-oh, right."  Kaz let out his nervous laugh again before looking over to Zane.  "See?  Wasn't that worth it?"

Zane yawned a little. "It was really a sight." He admitted, "But...if we intend to stay out here for the rest of the day, then I may as well relax and rest."  He finally sat his own backpack down. "I think a nap is in order, and that rock looks like a good pillow."

"Aw, Nyoomi's all tuckered out." Sat giggled.

Zane huffed, "Not all of us like getting up at crazy hours in the morning."  He said as he sat down, relaxing against the tree.

-

The rest of the day went by, the trio staying at their spot as others came by to visit the field as well as the others.  Many familiar faces came by to greet them and enjoy the sight of the radiant field before them. While Kaz was nervous with the number of people that came by, he still enjoyed it as they chatted and hung out, sometimes his attention going over to flower field as the wind blew through, causing ripples to make the flowers dance.

Eventually, the day worn down and dusk had come.  The sun was slowly sinking into the other horizon and the area started to darken.  The last rays of the sun sent streaks of color across the sky as stars started to appear, twinkling in the night sky. Slowly, he field started to change with the sky, the brilliant colors slowly fading as the flowers closed up, and a wave of blue and purple started to wash over the field.

Zane and Kaz sat by the tree, watching the whole scene before them and watching as the stars soon filled the sky in a speckled display. Now it was the Needlix's turn to start yawning as he laid back, looking at the scene while his Gorm friend watched the starry skies.  

"Okay, you were right."

Kaz twitched his ears and he looked over. "Huh? What was that?"

Zane laughed, "I said you were right.  This was worth it."

Kaz smiled wide and nodded. "Yeah!"  He paused before he he spoke up again, "Thank you for coming along."

He smiled, "Of course buddy."

--

This story is dedicated to Ashley "Yark" Foster.

Thank you for being a great friend and an amazing inspiration.  I will never forget you.

-Bahamut

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Eight

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

May. 27. 2020

Henry: Any plans for this lovely warm day?

Warm felt like an understatement. It was hot. The temperature had shot up out of no where making it feel even warmer than it actually was, but at twenty-four degrees it felt like the height of summer for England.

Me: I'm way ahead of you

Me:

The picture was more revealing than things I'd sent him before, but I was at the beach so it would have been weird to cover up for a selfie. At least that’s what I told myself as I waited eagerly for a response.

Henry: Wow, it looks like I'm missing out

Henry: Do you want some company or are you enjoying the alone time?

Me: I'm always happy to have your company if you want to join!

Henry: Excellent, what beach are you at?

Me: Beauport

Henry: Great, I'll see you soon

I put my phone back under my bag and out of the sun before resting my head down on my arms. The feel of the sun on my back was lovely, just warm enough to feel like I was laying under a nice hot blanket, but not hot enough that it felt like my skin was literally burning. Days like this were my absolute favourite. Anything between twenty-three and thirty degrees was just right for me and I tried to appreciate that this was a moment I wouldn't have had if my plan for the year had worked out.

I was in my own world, still basking in the warmth when a bark and a wet nose pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Kal!" A sharp voice shouted as I lifted my head to see the massive dog above me. "Leave her alone!"

I giggled as he licked my face frantically and reached up to ruffle his fluffy coat.

"It's okay," I assured Henry as he jogged over. "He's alright."

"He knows better than to run off like that," Henry frowned. "But he saw you and bolted."

"Well I appreciate that enthusiasm, but you should listen to your boss, Kal."

He boofed at the sound of his name before darting a few feet towards the sea then running back to Henry. He did it twice more before letting out a bark towards his owner.

"Alright," Henry chuckled. "You can go, Kal. Go!"

Kal didn't even hesitate before shooting off and jumping into the waves. I laughed as I looked over my shoulder at the sight while Henry spread out the blanket that was tucked under his arm and sat down next to me. I rolled over, leaning back on my elbows so it was easier for us to talk.

"He must be so hot in this weather."

"He is," Henry nodded. "But he does well. He's been to some places that are a lot hotter than this."

"Well then he's a trooper," I smiled. "Because much hotter than this and even I get cranky and I don't have a built in fur coat."

"He is," Henry chuckled, but paused as Kal started trying to bite the waves. He whistled sharply, catching his dogs attention. "Kal! Come here!"

The dog happily charged back towards us before flopping down in the sand, panting.

"He's so obedient!"

"I worked hard at that," Henry admitted. "I knew that if I wanted to take him everywhere I go then he had to be well-behaved, but he's still a dog so sometimes he does things that he shouldn't like drinking salt water until it makes him sick."

"Sometimes it's the things we love the most that hurt us," I smiled. "Like humans with alcohol."

"Fair point," Henry laughed. "But at least there's some fun to be had with alcohol, can't say the same with salt water."

"I wouldn't know," I shrugged. "It's not something I've tried."

"Me neither," Henry smiled before leaning back and tilting his head up to the sky, sighing contentedly. "Wow, it's such a nice day today."

"I know, it's perfect. It's hot, but not overwhelmingly so."

Henry looked down at me, a smirk on his face.

"I would imagine that it's hard to be overwhelmingly warm when you're wearing as little clothing as you are."

"It's a bikini," I defended myself, matching his smirk. "We're at the beach, what else would I wear?"

"Oh no, I'm not complaining," Henry assured me. "You look great."

My face heated up at that, but I quietly thanked him and turned my face towards the sun, hoping that it would account for my red cheeks. However, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Henry pulling his shirt over his head and I couldn't help, but take a peek. It was quite a sight to say the least. I'd seen him shirtless in the Witcher of course, but seeing it up close made him seem even more unreal.

The smirk was still firmly planted on Henry's face as he caught my eye and I shook myself out of it.

"Do you have sunscreen on, Mr. Cavill?"

"No," He admitted. "I didn't even think of that before I left the house, but I don't burn too easily so I think I'll be okay."

I frowned at that and reached over to my bag, pulled out my sunscreen and tossed it onto his blanket.

"It doesn't matter if you don't burn easily, it's still bad for your skin to be in sun this strong with no protection," I warned him. "Besides, isn't Geralt supposed to be super pale? Don't give your make-up artists more work."

He laughed, shaking his head at my scolding, but did as I asked after mumbling something about how bossy I was being. I ignored him though. I loved laying in the sun, but was paranoid about the potential damage it could cause so I was very used to friends and family making fun of me for my strict sunscreen rules.

I watched while he applied it to his face, arms and his chest until he turned to me with a problem.

"That's all the places I can reach," He sighed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What if my back burns?"

"I guess you'll just have to keep it against your blanket and out of the sun."

"Or you could do it for me?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but it had suddenly gone dry at the thought of running my hands over the broad, muscled back of the man I was looking at. I quickly took a sip from my water bottle to remedy that problem as he watched me closely waiting for my reaction.

"We're supposed to stay two metres apart," I reminded him, but all I got was a pout in return. The giant, manly, thirty-seven year old man actually genuinely pouted at me. And I was powerless to resist. "Alright, fine. But keep your head forward and away from me the whole time, okay?"

He grinned and nodded as he sat up and leaned forward. I shifted onto my knees before crawling over and settling behind him. I squirted some sunscreen onto my palm and gently placed it against his back. I felt nervous which made me feel silly, but this would be the most physical contact we'd had so far and it felt shockingly intimate as I carefully rubbed my hand across his skin.

His muscles were rock solid and my breath caught in my throat as they quivered under my touch. Tiny little goosebumps rose up on his skin as I took my time, exploring every curve of his shoulder blade and ridge of his spine. We were closer than we'd been since he carried me to the car on the day that we met and it suddenly hit me how much things had changed between us in that short time. A temptation washed over me to press my lips against the soft hairs on the back of his neck, but I pushed the thought out of my head as I rubbed in the last of the sunscreen, knowing it would be inappropriate.

I cleared my throat as I moved back to my blanket, feeling a new kind of heaviness in the air between us. There were a million thoughts running through my brain as we sat in silence until I managed to speak.

"It's really such a shame that you've let yourself go so much these last few months."

Henry stared at me for a moment before laughing and the thick tension between us faded slightly, at least to a point where it wasn't quite so hard to breathe.

"I know, it's embarrassing," He playfully hung his head, sarcasm dripping from his words. "It's going to take me ages to get back into shape before filming starts again."

"Do you have any idea when that will be yet?"

I felt an anxious pang in my stomach as I asked the question. I almost didn't want to know the answer because I knew how disappointed I'd be if it was anytime soon.

"No, not yet," He sighed and despite feeling sympathy for him, I was relieved. "The best guess they can give right now is maybe September, but they don't want to commit to anything because things change so fast these days."

"That's very true," I nodded. "Did you hear about them easing the restrictions here soon?"

"I did," Henry smiled. "Is it on June 10th?"

"The twelfth," I corrected. "Apparently we'll be allowed to have parties with a maximum of twenty people. My mum's already working on a guest list for a barbecue."

I rolled my eyes and Henry laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure my mum will be doing the same. You'd think having a house full would satisfy her, but I think she misses seeing people that she isn't related to."

"I can relate to that," I laughed. "That's why it's been so nice having you to spend some time with."

I thought that might be a bit cheesy, but Henry nodded.

"It has been nice for that," He agreed. "And it doesn't hurt that you flounce around in skimpy pajamas and barely there bikinis to get my attention."

My jaw dropped as he shot me a smug look.

"I am not doing anything for your attention," I protested as he laughed, tossing his head back.

"Oh, sure," He grinned. "All I did was ask what you were doing and you sent me a picture of you half-naked on the beach."

My cheeks were burning, but I laughed as I shook my head in disbelief.

"Okay, but how fast did you get here? It took you less than ten minutes and I know it's at least a fifteen minute drive from your place."

"Maybe if you follow the speed limit," He chuckled. "But the roads were empty so perhaps I went a bit fast."

"Perhaps? Sounds like you were speeding desperately to ogle me in person," I teased. "And then you make me rub sunscreen all over you? I don't think I'm the one desperate for attention here."

"You're the one who was so concerned about my sun protection," He pointed out. "But anyway, my point was that I enjoy spending time with you as well."

I laughed, letting my head fall back so the sun hit my neck and chest.

"I'm not sure I stand by that statement anymore," I mused. "I might need to find someone else to hang out with who doesn't try to wind me up all the time."

"Oh, c'mon, where's the fun in that?"

"The fun is that I keep my sanity," I joked as I pulled my sunglasses off my head and tossed them towards my bag. It was nearing two o'clock and I realized how hot the sun was starting to get. "I think I'm going to go for a swim, do you want to come with?"

Kal leapt up as I pulled myself to my feet, barking happily at me.

"She wasn't talking to you," Henry laughed, ruffling his dog's fur as he stood up as well. "But a swim sounds lovely. That sun is getting intense."

"It is," I nodded as we headed off towards the water. "It feels way hotter than I thought it was supposed to be, but it's refreshing after such a rainy spring."

"Absolutely," Henry agreed as we got to the rocky part of the beach. Closer to the water was more soft sand, but there was a middle stretch of rocks that was proving to be rather inconvenient. "Are you a good swim-"

Half-way through Henry's sentence I went down. The rocks were slippery and I lost my footing, falling on my bum with an embarrassing shriek. Kal bounded over, barking frantically from the commotion as I could barely stand myself up through my laughter.

"Oh my god," I choked out. "I can't believe that just happened."

Henry had his hand on Kal's collar to give me space and there was a smile on his face despite the look of concern.

"Are you okay?"

I got my laughter under control and nodded as I got to my feet.

"Other than my bruised ego, I'm fine."

Henry chuckled and shook his head.

"I can't believe how clumsy you are!"

"I'm really not," I insisted. "Maybe if someone didn't shatter my ankle a few weeks ago, I'd have better balance."

"Oh, sure, blame me! Last I heard, you were insisting that incident was mostly your own fault as well!" He had a valid point, but I just stuck out my tongue as I subtly tried to adjust my bikini bottoms. "You're really okay though? You didn't hurt your ankle again?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I assured him. "Just embarrassed."

He let go of Kal and we resumed our walk, making sure to be extra careful where we stepped.

"So, what I was going to ask was: Are you a good swimmer?"

"I am," I nodded. "We used to spend a lot of time at the seaside when I was a child so I love being in the water."

"That's good," Henry's smirk returned. "Hopefully you're better at sea than on land."

I cringed slightly as another wave of embarrassment at what just happened washed over me, but I couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes. "Don't act like you wouldn't love an opportunity to give me mouth to mouth."

Henry laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement.

"Cheeky girl," He tutted. "But I'll admit, it wouldn't be too much of an imposition if my services were needed."

He shot me a wink and for a brief moment I was actually considering letting myself drown just to give him the chance to save me.

****

We stayed at the beach for the next few hours. We swam for a bit with Kal paddling around us as we splashed each other, teased each other and had a very competitive race back to shore that I obviously let Henry win. Once we were back on on our blankets, we lounged in the sun to dry off, but since it still wasn't quite summer it did start to cool off as it got closer to dinner time.

“I should probably head home," I reluctantly said as I checked the time. "I've been here all day, my family probably think I've drowned."

"I don't know about that," Henry smirked. "You are a strong swimmer, they're probably more worried that you've fallen and broken something."

"Piss off," I laughed. "You're so rude."

Henry grinned proudly at getting under my skin once again as I slipped a sundress over my now dry bikini. Henry followed suit, putting his shirt on as I folded my blanket and checked to make sure all my things were tucked safely in my bag.

"How did you get here?" Henry asked as he folded up his own blanket as well. "Did you drive?"

"No, I walked."

"You walked?" He raised his eyebrows. "That's a long way to walk."

"It was a nice morning," I shrugged. "I just popped on an audio book and it didn't feel like such a long trek."

"Fair enough," Henry nodded as we headed towards the parking lot with Kal hot on our heels. "But how are you planning to get home?"

"I hadn't really thought of that," I admitted. "I'll probably call my dad and see if he can pick me up. Otherwise, I guess I'll be walking back too."

"I can give you a ride," Henry offered immediately. "Seems silly for your dad to drive all the way here when we're going to almost the same place."

It was a tempting offer and it did make sense, but I bit my lip nervously. We really were supposed to be staying two metres apart and we'd already been closer than we probably should have been throughout the day. Sensing my hesitation, Henry rushed to assure me.

"We can keep the windows open if it makes you feel more comfortable and I really haven't seen anyone other than you and my family for weeks now."

"We're so bad at this two metres apart thing," I laughed with a shake of my head. "But okay, thank you. I would love a ride home."

"Perfect," He smiled. "I wasn't really going to take no for an answer anyway."

I smiled at that knowing it was probably true. I hadn't known Henry all that long, but I'd already discovered that his dog wasn't the only stubborn one in their little duo. It was nice though. I might not have dated much in the last couple of years, but I knew that chivalry was hard to find and it was becoming more and more clear that Henry really was a true gentleman and I was very grateful to have someone like him around to brighten up the dark lockdown days.

_________

I’m starting a tag list for this story now so let me know if you would like to be added!

Tag List: @heartfelt-pen​

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 14

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Previous chapter | Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

ONE WEEK LATER

BARROW LAGOON, AMBARINO

Steadily rowing the narrow boat back to shore, Isaac allowed himself to glide across the icy water as a series of ripples wobbled in the surface around him, causing broken plates of ice to shift to the sides.

He had just finished catching some fish in the snow-covered lake, and thanks to the peaceful nature of the wildlife in these parts, he also managed to pick a few herbs that might’ve helped with his father’s sickness. Isaac doubted they would do anything to cure him, but he just hoped they’d be able to tame his cough at the very least.

He had enough to worry about, after all. Between watching out for Pinkertons and looking after Arthur’s health, Isaac honestly didn’t care that much about reaching Canada for the time being.

Hell, he was willing to stay in The United States for another fifteen years if it meant his father could focus on recovering, but... knowing Arthur, Isaac doubted he’d able to convince the man to worry about his own well-being before his son’s.

That stubborn old man always seemed to attend to everyone else’s needs first. Isaac knew his father came from a place of compassion, but he just wished he could’ve done something to help him in return. A gun didn’t do much when it came to battling pestilence, and that was about the only thing Isaac knew how to use.

Part of him just wanted Arthur to return to civilization. He knew the man loathed being around places that were full of people, but they weren’t going to find a doctor anywhere else. 

Time was running out for the outlaw, and the last thing Isaac wanted was for that time to be wasted. He and Arthur may have argued sometimes, but the man was right about one thing. This was their only chance to make things right.

Letting the boat slide back onto dry land, the young man hopped out of his seat and lugged the sack of fish over his shoulder, slowly trudging through the crunchy snow as he made his way back to Arthur.

At the moment, the older man was looking after their horses just by the shoreline and had a fishing rod of his own cast in the lake, but it didn’t look like he had been able to catch much.

His nose was red from the cold, and judging by the pale tint of his skin and the dark circles surrounding his eyes, Isaac assumed his illness wasn’t getting any better.

He walked up to the man, trying his best to conceal the concerned expression on his face.

“Isaac,” Arthur greeted upon seeing the boy. “You’re back. Find anything?”

Isaac hurled the sack of fish onto the ground, showing him what he had caught.

“Got a couple of fish, but... it ain’t much. Hard to find any food in these parts.”

“Well, it’s still better than what I did. Good work, son.”

The boy strolled over to his horse, giving the animal a friendly pat on the neck.

“What ‘bout you, Dad? You have any luck?”

Arthur let out a chuckle, reeling the line in. “I’m afraid not. You know me, kiddo. I was never much of a fisherman. Though, I did manage to kill a rabbit earlier. Should keep us fed for a few days.”

Isaac grinned humorously. “Once we get to Canada, I’m never eatin’ fish or rabbit again. I’ve had enough of it for a lifetime.”

The other man returned the grin. “Try eatin’ it for thirty years. That was all our cook ever made for us. That, and venison. We rarely ate anything else. Just stew full of rabbit and deer bits.”

“And you wonder why everyone in your gang was always so cranky.”

Arthur paused for a moment, thinking back to his time with the gang. “...Hey, did I ever tell you about Hosea?”

Isaac shook his head. “No. Who is he?”

“Oh, he passed a few years ago,” he said regrettably, “but he and Dutch raised me together. They were practically brothers. Funnily enough though, Hosea was nothin’ like the old man. He was an outlaw same as the rest of us, but somehow, he always managed to be a gentleman about it. He was kind, but firm. Wild, but delicate.” 

A warm smile spread across Arthur’s face. “You remind me of him. I think Hosea would’ve liked you.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Sure. I imagine he’d wanna take you hunting or fishing. He always preferred the outdoors. Hell, he even took me to hunt a bear once.”

Isaac glanced at him incredulously. “Really?”

Arthur nodded. “Really. We dragged ourselves all the way from Valentine to the Grizzlies East just to find the damn thing.”

“Did you catch it?”

“Eventually. But it weren’t easy. The beast almost killed the old man. Luckily, I managed to shoo it away -- more by luck than anything -- and ended up huntin’ it on my own. Got me a pretty good sum. The trapper recognized the ugly bastard’s pelt the minute I dumped it in front of him.”

Isaac gave Arthur a playful smirk. “You ever gonna take me huntin’ for bear?”

The older man laughed. “Not a chance. You’d just scare it off.”

The two of them chortled at that and began packing their things up, preparing to continue their journey as the white sun inched across the sky. The weather was a little warmer today -- or at least warm by Ambarino’s standards -- and tiny droplets of water could be seen melting off of the numerous icicles hanging around the environment. Unfortunately for them though, the road ahead was still mostly obscured by thick layers of snow.

“Hey, Dad,” Isaac said, climbing on top of Aldo’s saddle. “I’ve been thinking...”

Arthur mounted his own horse, letting out a brief cough. “What’s on your mind, son?”

“Well,” the boy tapped his reins, riding alongside his father, “when all this is over -- if we actually manage to make it outta the country, that is -- I’ll have to find a new way to make a living. A new career. I can’t just be an outlaw forever.”

The older man let one of his arms dangle casually by his side. “No, I s’pose you can’t. You got any ideas on what you wanna do?”

Isaac nodded. “Yeah. I think... I think I wanna be a doctor.”

Admittedly, Arthur found himself surprised by the decision. He didn’t doubt his son’s capability, but the young man never really struck him as the medical type. He guessed his recent illness was impacting Isaac more than he realized.

“A doctor? You sure about that?”

“Maybe,” Isaac replied with a shrug. “I dunno. I just...” his eyes sank downward, “...I’m tired of hurtin’ people all the time. It’s all I seem to do. I feel like I can’t go one week without nearly killin’ somebody. I wanna start carin’ for people for a change. Save their lives instead of taking ‘em.”

Arthur smiled proudly. “That’s a real noble thing to do, Isaac. I think it’d be good for you. Heh. And you didn’t believe me when I said you wasn’t a killer.”

The boy’s mood didn’t seem to lift at the remark. “Maybe I ain’t a killer now, but I definitely was before I met you. If you had seen the way I killed Eli...”

The other man remembered the name. “Eli Whitley? He was one of Shay’s friends, wasn’t he? You never really told me what happened to him.”

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “Eli was there when mom died. I hated everyone in Shay’s gang with a passion after that, but Eli... I guess you could say he was the kindest in the group. He was the one who convinced everyone else to spare me when they woulda shot me. He’s the only reason Shay ever took me in.”

“But... that didn’t stop me from goin’ after him.” Isaac continued. “I cornered him outside of Rhodes just a few months before I got to Shay. Interrogated him at this abandoned barn. Didn’t let him die until he told me what I needed. He was probably the least deserving out of the entire gang, and yet... I killed him the slowest.”

Arthur sighed, speaking in a gentler tone. “...What’s wrong with you, Isaac?”

“I... I don’t know. But I wanna change. I don’t wanna be that kinda man anymore. That’s why I’m thinkin’ of being a doctor.”

The older man encouraged the idea. “Well, you’re a smart kid. And you’re still young. I think you could do it.”

“Well, it ain’t set in stone yet. It’s just a thought. For all I know, I could end up becoming a hillbilly granger somewhere. Spend all my days roastin’ under the sun. Scare away the occasional coyote. Yell at kids when they come wanderin’ too close to my property. Marry my cousin.”

Arthur chuckled. “Good to see your sense of humor ain’t run off. Maybe you could go into show business. Become a... performer or something.”

Isaac scoffed in an amused manner. “You really think I could be a performer?”

“Well... maybe not. But don’t limit yourself. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be in Broadway someday.”

The boy laughed. “I hope not. Have you met New Yorkers?”

Arthur nodded, thinking back to a certain stranger he met outside Strawberry. “Yes, actually. Yes, I have.”

He fell quiet for a second, suddenly remember something.

“Hey, Isaac. Before I forget, I just wanted to say, I’m--” a series of coughs interrupted him, “--I’m--”

Being cut off once again, Arthur brought a hand up to his mouth and did his best to overcome the sudden attack, only to feel his heart racing when he realized that it was getting worse.

His entire body shook in pain, and with every jagged cough that escaped him, the more he could feel his throat burning.

“Dad?” Isaac said in concern. “Are you okay?”

Arthur didn’t respond. Instead, he simply continued to cough into his hand, desperately trying to catch his breath. The edges of his vision were starting to grow fuzzy now, and despite his efforts to fight through it, Arthur’s strength began to drain from his body by the minute.

“...Isaac...” He wheezed, his voice raspy with irritation. “I...”

Without any warning, Arthur suddenly tilted off his saddle and collapsed to the ground, sending Isaac into a state of panic as he inspected his father’s unconscious body.

“Dad?!” He exclaimed, shaking the man by the shoulders. “Dad! Hey! Wake up!”

His voice began to echo in Arthur’s ears, fading along with everything else as the world turned black.

“...Wake up...!”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW HOURS LATER

NIGHTTIME

NEAR LAKE ISABELLA

Cold. Pain. Fear.

These were the only things Arthur could feel at the moment. The only things to greet him when he finally returned to consciousness.

The world around him was still dark, and without the sensation of a solid ground beneath him, he might’ve assumed he was dead.

As for his illness, Arthur could still feel it burning the insides of his chest. His throat was dry and sore, and due to the freezing wind embracing his body, it almost felt as if the breeze was carrying his life away with it.

But no... not yet. He couldn’t quit. He was still here. He was still alive. His body hadn’t given out just yet, and he still had to protect Isaac, no matter the cost.

He just didn’t know if he could anymore.

Waking up with a start, Arthur felt yet another chain of coughs rattle his chest as he forced his eyes open, sluggishly observing his new surroundings.

It looked like he had been moved to a shack somewhere in the middle of Ambarino’s mountains, and if it weren’t for the stiff bedroll lying underneath him, Arthur would’ve been sleeping directly on a fresh blanket of snow. 

There wasn’t much of a roof to shelter the shack’s interior from the weather outside, and with the sun now hiding behind the horizon, the night only seemed to grow colder.

Jesus Christ... what had he gotten himself into?

“Dad...?” A familiar voice whispered, drawing Arthur’s attention.

Slowly turning his head to the side, the older man spotted Isaac sitting in a corner of the shack with his rifle clutched tightly to his chest as he guarded his father, clearly anticipating some kind of threat.

His eyes were widened with anxiety, and the way he kept his voice low only heightened Arthur’s sense of fear.

What was going on?

“...Isaac,” Arthur said, barely able to speak at an audible volume. “Where... where are we...? What happened?”

“You had another coughin’ fit.” The boy explained. “You just... passed out. Right onto the road. You-- Jesus Christ, Dad... I thought you were dead. I tried to find you some shelter, but there ain’t much in these mountains. The best I could do was this rundown shack.”

Arthur tried to ease the young man’s nerves, not wanting to escalate things anymore. “It’s okay, Isaac. You did good. But... why d’you seem so afraid? What’s goin’ on?”

“I saw Dutch and his men on the way up here,” Isaac warned. “They were searchin’ the wilds. I think they’re looking for you. They didn’t seem to notice me, but... we have a trail leading directly to us. Dutch could be here at any minute.”

The older man cleared his throat, trying to ignore the pain. “...Shit. That man don’t give up easily. I’ll give him that.”

Isaac looked to his father for guidance. “So, what do we do? Should we just stay here for the night? Or keep moving? I mean, you’re in no condition to travel.”

“We need to get outta here.” Arthur concluded. “You said we have a trail leadin’ straight to us. If anyone finds that...” another cough escaped him.

The boy disagreed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You need to get some rest. Pushin’ yourself will only make things worse right now.”

“And if we stay, we risk Dutch findin’ us. Or even worse, the Pinkertons.”

“But you’re too weak!” Isaac argued. “And it’s the middle of the night. If we go back out there, we’ll freeze to death! It doesn’t--”

Interrupting the young man, an ominous thud suddenly emitted from the shack’s flimsy door, causing both of them to go silent.

Isaac instantly aimed his rifle at the entrance and cocked his weapon, standing directly in the middle of the shack due to a lack of cover.

There weren’t any voices talking at the moment, but underneath the loud howling of the wind and the creaking of wood, Isaac could hear a series of footsteps approaching them.

It sounded like they knew someone was inside based on the steady pace of their movements, and when Isaac glanced down at the crack underneath the door, he couldn’t help but notice an orange light seeping through the small gap.

Part of Isaac just wanted to shoot whoever was outside, but if it was Dutch like he suspected, then that meant his men must’ve been nearby. He couldn’t risk drawing their attention with any loud noises, and if a shootout were to ensue, there was no guarantee Arthur would be strong enough to fight through it.

He’d have to keep things quiet for now.

Swinging the door open with a light push, their unexpected visitor welcomed himself into the shack as a gust of wind breezed past him, chilling Arthur and Isaac to the bone.

The man was wrapped head-to-toe in winter clothing and had a revolver in one hand whilst holding a lantern with the other. His face didn’t strike Isaac as incredibly familiar, but upon seeing the pinned-up hat that he adorned, the boy instantly knew who it was.

“...Bill.” He murmured, watching the man’s every move. “You’re here.”

The other man’s eyes widened in recognition, causing him to raise his gun in alarm. “...Shit. So it really is you. I thought I saw someone out here.”

Isaac stepped protectively in front of Arthur, keeping his finger on the trigger.

“...What’re you doin’ here, Williamson?”

“What d’you think I’m doing? Lookin’ for your daddy, of course.” Bill’s gaze wandered over to Arthur, leading to a sudden shift in tone. “...What’s wrong with him?”

The boy tried to hide the fear in his voice. “He’s sick. With what, we don’t know. But... we think it’s the same thing Dutch has.”

Bill was quiet for a second.

“...Is he coughin’ a lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there blood?”

Isaac thought back to when Arthur passed out. “Sometimes.”

The other man sighed, his expression remaining flat. “Then it’s probably tuberculosis. At least, that’s what Dutch has, accordin’ to the doctor. He finally saw one the other day.”

The news hit Isaac like a bullet to the gut. He knew whatever Arthur had couldn’t be good, but he never expected it to be that bad.

“...Shit.” He cursed quietly. “That... explains a lot.”

Bringing his attention back to Bill, Isaac pushed his thoughts aside for the moment and strengthened his grip on the rifle, bracing himself for anything.

“Listen to me, Bill. I dunno what the hell Dutch wants, but you don’t have to do this. Just... walk away. Forget you ever saw us.”

The outlaw stood his ground. “And why should I? If I recall correctly, your daddy said he didn’t care about what happened to me the last time I saw him. So why should I care what happens to him now?”

“Because he’s my family. Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”

Bill’s glowered at that. “I would, and I have. The gang was my family. I tried to help ‘em, but the only thing anyone ever did in return was ridicule me! Everyone always treated me like I was some... some idiot! A fool! A drunk! Dutch was the only one who ever treated me with respect. That’s why I gotta do this for him.”

Isaac felt a familiar sense of anger boiling inside him. “...You lay a single finger on my father, and I will kill you myself, Williamson.”

The veteran guffawed mockingly. “Oh, yeah, you’s real tough when you’re attackin’ our gang from the shadows. But you ain’t nothin’ compared to Dutch. And neither is your daddy. That man ain’t just strong. He’s caring. He’s the only reason our gang has survived for so long. He has something that the two of you never will. He has our loyalty.”

The boy almost laughed at the ludicrous statement. “Loyalty? Dutch doesn’t give a shit about you. Any of you. Look at how quickly he turned on my father. What makes you think you’re any different?”

Bill looked at him in bewilderment. “Dutch didn’t turn on your father. Arthur turned on him! Dutch... Dutch is a good man. He helps people. He helped me. When I was at my lowest point, he saved me while everyone else ignored me. He saw somethin’ special in me, and he gave me a new purpose in life. And I will never forget that.”

Isaac sighed in frustration. “You’re blinded by your loyalty, Bill. Dutch may have been a good man in the past, but he’s a tyrant now. A madman. Surely, even you can see that!”

The outlaw grumbled to himself, shaking his head in disagreement. “...You’re a real fool, Isaac. You know that? You kill a couple of our men, and suddenly, you think you’re an expert on our gang. You think you know a goddamn thing about us!”

“I know enough. I know that your gang is finished. I know that there’s no more trust between you. No more loyalty. You’re the only one in your gang who still believes in Dutch’s old rhetoric of a better world, and meanwhile, everyone else has given up on it. Hell, even Micah’s already betrayed you.”

Bill fell silent at that. “...What? What’re you talkin’ about?”

“How else do you think I was able to sneak into your camp?” Isaac pointed out. “How else could I have known about the bank robbery in Blackwater? Think about it, Bill. Your gang’s been fallin’ apart since before I even showed up. Only difference now is... there’s no chance of savin’ it.”

It was clear that the other man’s faith was crumbling at Isaac’s words, but he remained reluctant to admit it.

“No... no. That ain’t true! Dutch is special. He knows how to save people. He’ll get us outta this mess. He always does. And besides, I owe him everything after what he’s done for me. Without him, I’d be nothin’ but a big, dumb oaf. But Dutch... he’s a great man. And when I’m with him, I feel like I can be somebody.”

Isaac found himself at a loss for words, unsure of how he was going to convince Bill to walk away.

The last thing he wanted was to start a firefight in the middle of nowhere, but Bill was turning out to be far more obstinate than even Dutch himself.

The man seemed to idolize their gang’s leader. He still saw Dutch with the same image that he held eight years ago, and it looked like he wanted nothing more than to be like him.

But... there was more to Bill. Isaac could see it. Beneath all the anger and recklessness, the boy could sense that there was something pure at Williamson’s core.

It was clear that he still carried some wounds from the ridicule he endured in the past, but with enough encouragement, Isaac hoped he’d able to persuade Bill to overcome it.

If they were going to get out of Ambarino alive, they’d have to make sure that no one else found them. And right now, Bill was the only determining factor on whether or not that would happen.

Isaac didn’t want to take another life, but that sure as hell didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

“Y’know, Bill...” he said carefully, “I used to feel the same. Not too long ago, I used to believe that without my father, I’d be nothin’ more than a heartless killer. I saw him as somebody I wanted to be. Somebody who I needed to be. But you know what he told me?” 

Arthur perked his head up in interest, silently listening to Isaac from his bed as the boy spoke about him.

“He said that when all this is over, I ain’t gonna be like him. Or Dutch. Or Shay. Or even Micah. I’m gonna be my own man. A better man. And somethin’ tells me you can be, too.”

Bill softened his voice at the non-hostile approach, struggling to get his thoughts out. He hadn’t exactly reached a friendly disposition just yet, but his demeanor wasn’t nearly as aggressive as before.

“Them’s pretty words, Isaac...” he muttered quietly. “But how do I know you mean them? How do I know you ain’t just playin’ me for a fool like everyone else has?”

The young man clenched his jaw in nervousness, trying to steady his breath.

“...Because I’m tired of killin’ folk. I’m tired of always fearin’ for my life. If you lower your gun, I’m willin’ to lower mine.”

Bill glanced at Arthur. “And your daddy? He gonna let me go, too? Or is he gonna gimme the same treatment he gave Micah?”

“He ain’t gon’ do nothing. He doesn’t have the strength. Just walk out of here and pretend you never saw us. We’ll do the same.”

The outlaw hesitated for a minute, clearly torn by the dilemma. Despite his animosity towards Arthur, he seemed to have some sympathy for the man due to their history together. 

Their gang used to be like family after all, and as rotten as Williamson could’ve been sometimes, even he wasn’t so monstrous as to murder a boy and his dying father in cold blood. Not yet, anyway. 

A part of him actually believed what the young man said to him earlier, and if Isaac was telling the truth about Micah being a traitor, it was likely that the rat had spoken with the Pinkertons too. If that was the case, then their gang truly was finished.

Dutch may have been a fighter, but even he couldn’t work miracles. Bill would have to get out of this life as soon as possible if he wanted any hope of surviving, and perhaps this was his chance.

He finally lowered his gun, keeping an eye out for any sudden moves from the boy.

“...Goddammit, Isaac.” Bill muttered in annoyance. “Fine. I’ll let you go. This time.”

The young man slowly followed Bill’s actions, admittedly somewhat tentative to believe the outlaw.

“You will?”

“Yeah, but like I said, just this once. If Dutch or Micah find you again, I won’t be able to do anythin’ about that.”

Isaac felt a wave of relief wash over him, allowing him to relax a little.

“...Thank you, Bill.” He said sincerely. “You’re a good man. Or at least, a better man than you think.”

Bill didn’t crack his shell just yet, but Isaac could tell there was a sense of appreciation somewhere in him.

“Sure, Isaac.” He turned around and headed for the shack’s door, stopping in his tracks just before he left.

“Listen, there is somethin’ you should know. The truth is, Dutch doesn’t care about findin’ your father. It’s you he’s really after.”

Isaac raised a brow. “Why me?”

“Hell if I know. Dutch mostly shuts me out these days. Only Micah truly knows what he’s up to. Just... be careful around him. There’s no tellin’ what he has planned for the both of you. Especially after all the hell you’ve raised.”

The boy gave him a nod. “I’ll remember that. Oh, and Williamson?”

Bill looked over his shoulder. “What?”

“...Thank you again. I won’t forget this.”

The grumpy outlaw stepped back out into the snow, pulling his scarf over his nose as the night slowly came to an end.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Survivors of Unfair Choices (4) | FirstOrder!Poe Dameron x Reader

Words: 1174

Warning: SW-verse typical violence, minor swearing

-

With the new location, you were both able to clean off the grime off and refill your canteens at the river. You had just started wiping off mud on both of the droids when Dameron began to take off his uniform. Your eyes widened as he bent over to take his boots off before working on his pants. You quickly looked away, paying close attention to the small grooves on the droid’s design. You dipped the rag in the river before wringing it out, ignoring the rustling of clothes falling next to you until you heard a loud splash. The BB-units squealed, rolling to hide behind you.

“Seriously? It’s freezing ass right now, Dameron!” you shouted, jumping up and looking for something to dry off with.

Dameron laughed, splashing water towards you. “Come on! I’m sure you’ve had some fun back in your little ransack base,” he taunted, “Infinitly more than on Starkiller base, anyways. Besides, it’s warmer today.”

You covered your eyes with your hands, not knowing how much clothing he had stripped off and not wanting to risk checking. “Well, I’m from a dry planet, so this is a no for me.”

“And I’m from a tropical planet. You think I enjoyed the cold last night? I’m making the most of the warmth while we still have it.”

“Well, that’s your business, though, isn’t it?”

“Suit yourself,” he said before splashing away.

You dropped your hands from your face as soon as it seemed he was far away down river. You look down at the two BB-units who were swiveling their small heads back and forth between you and Dameron before looking at each other.

“How’s the signal going, buddy?” you asked BB.

They shook their head, then looking at BB-8. The two droids exchanged a few beeps until BB-8 also shook their head.

“No luck for you, too, huh?” You placed a hand on your hip and smirked. “Since we’re going to be staying here longer than planned, how about telling embarrassing stories about Dameron to me?”

BB-8 let out a long trill, thinking for a moment before nodding.

You clapped, heading towards the camp to retrieve your tools. “Great, let’s get some food while we’re at it.”

Dameron came back from his swim, wearing only his pants as he used the sun to dry off the rest of his body. You didn’t want to admit that your eyes roamed over his body, the glint of a metal object hanging around his neck drawing your attention before you clear your throat.

“Had fun?” you asked, avoiding eye contact as you stoke the fire.

He hummed. “I finally figured out why you never shot me in the back before,” Dameron said with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?” you asked, humoring him.

“You like to stare at my ass,” he said proudly. BB-8 let out a scandalized trill and looked at Dameron before whipping their head towards you.

You scoffed, your face heating up. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I am very proud of my ass and there’s no shame in admitting that you did look a second longer than you should,” he continued to tease you.

“Is this what the First Order usually talk about during lunch breaks?”

“The opposite, actually. Everyone’s all in uniform and armor.” He sat down next to you and finally put his shirt on.

“How tragic,” you said sarcastically, “that plain uniform is preventing them from appreciating your bum.”

Dameron laughed, the second time you’ve ever heard this sound from him and it made you smile. First Order officers were usually seen as stoic and bleak and right now, he didn’t seem like a commander of the First Order. He was just Poe Dameron.

-

So much for an in and out job. The First Order somehow found out about the informant’s location and stormed through the village, taking you prisoner while your BB-unit was able to escape along with the map. At least you hope they did.

You blinked your eyes into focus, moving your neck slowly to ease the cramp that formed while you were unconscious. A trickle of blood ran down your forehead and from your nose, but that was the least of your worries. It was an important mission. And you messed up.

The doors to the torture room slid open, a heavy presence entered in black robes and a mask. This must be Kylo Ren. You heard many stories about the Knight of Ren that worked with the First Order, but the ones you trusted the most were from the general. What exactly had happened for him to turn to the darkside? From what you understood, unlike the stormtroopers and some of the officers, he had a choice.

He stood there for a moment, his emotionless mask staring at you as you felt pain in your head. You glared at him, trying your best to shield your mind from his attempted probing. He sensed what you were trying to do, lifting a gloved hand over your forehead and suddenly a force that seemed to be sucking your memories out of your mind lurched you forward as much as the restraints allowed you.

“No!” you shouted with gritted teeth.

You tried to build walls up, but the amount of power he was using felt like you were able to stack a couple of bricks before he knocked them down. You couldn’t keep this up, but you couldn’t let the First Order know of the location, either.

The moment you began to pant, he chuckled, muffled from the voice modulator in his mask. He knew you were growing weak. If you weren’t able to block him out, you could at least force him to see something.

You thought about Leia. About the time you first joined the Resistance and she had welcomed you with open arms. She was stern, but loving. You thought about the family you had found and how Leia was practically the mother figure you wished you still had. You thought about the times where Leia would confide in you, not in detail, but it was enough to get an idea of what was going through her mind. She wanted her son, Ben Solo, back.

Kylo Ren growled, yanking his hand away. You gasped for air, sagging in your restraints at the temporary relief. His breathing grew heavy as he paced around the small space before he whipped his lightsaber out, activating it inches from your face. The lightsaber crackled an angry and unstable red, the heat radiating off of it and threatening to burn you.

“Tell me where it is!” he demanded.

“Where what is? You’re going to have to be more specific,” you jibed.

“The map! The map of Luke Skywalker’s location!”

You faked a gasp. “Oh, so that’s what the mission was.”

He paused, reaching a gloved hand out. You braced yourself, thinking he was attempting to read your mind again, but instead, he went to your neck and yanked the thin chain out of hiding, revealing the ring.

“Interesting.”

-

Taglist:  @megzdoodle @psychoticobsession @thescarletknight2014 @marrypuffsstuff @theoralpha @daniellajocelyn @badwolf-212 @gleigh42

[starmakerdotcom]

summary : it took a whole month for milo to realize that maybe dating a fan you meet out in public isn’t the best idea he’s ever had.

characters : zhao honghui , jung yeonwoo , lee hayoon , some of solar ensemble are mentioned

genre : fluffy at the start but it gets more angsty near the end

warnings : swearing , talk of sex , they do fuck but i ended up not including the smut , lowkey manipulation if you squint , overall this is what not to do if you have an idol bf

words : 3.9k

[ february 20th, 2020, smk building cafe ]

“so... remember when we were at the airport last week when our flight was delayed?”

“yeah, what about it?”

honghui fiddled with the straw in his drink, watching the liquid swirl around as he tried to properly string his words together, “uh- basically i- i kinda met a girl?”

yeonwoo nearly choked on her drink.

“pfft- how on earth did you meet a girl at the airport for the hour we were separated?”

“did you not see the vlog from that day?”

“who are you kidding? i don’t watch our vlogs.”

“i-“ honghui chuckled, “it sounds so weird. so when i took minjae and jihoon with me to get a snack-“

“and you brought me back a cold coffee.”

“yeah. anyways, this girl- hayoon- was working at the counter, and she recognized me. she said something like, ‘are you milo from solar?’ i said, ‘yep, i am!’ and she started talking about how big of a fan she was, which was cool because we don’t meet many fans out and about like that.”

yeonwoo hummed, running her thumb down the side of her glass, leaving a dry stripe down the center of the condensation build. “so...? don’t stop there, tell me more!”

honghui nodded hastily, “yeah, we actually talked for a few minutes while my drinks and stuff were getting made, and we got along really well. she ended up slipping me her phone number with the order. we haven’t texted much but i have her instagram.”

“you’ve gotta talk to her!” yeonwoo exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table with each syllable for emphasis, “she seems sweet, shoot your shot dude.”

“shoot my-? nevermind. maybe i’ll find time to talk to her when promotions end, i’m a little busy right now,” honghui said, “i mean, we’re all a little busy.”

“you’d better.”

“i will!” honghui exclaimed, slightly taken aback by yeonwoo’s pushiness.

[ april 1st, 2020, solar dorms ]

the only light in the room was coming from honghui’s phone screen, the brightness fully down but somehow still too bright. it may have been the middle of the night, but promotions had just ended and he was texting with hayoon. well, more specifically he sent hayoon a text fifteen minutes prior and was nervously anticipating her reply. which had yet to come.

[ honghui : hey hayoon! just thought i’d say hi because promotions are over now and i have a bit of a break to talk :) ]

sent at 12:03 am

honghui sighed dramatically, then paused hearing minjae stir on the top bunk of the other bed. he forgot it was the middle of the night and people were actually sleeping.

he was so caught off guard by minjae that he didn’t even realize for a few seconds that his phone had buzzed.

[ new message from : lee hayoon ]

[ lee hayoon : hi milo! what’s up? ]

he swore the room got a few degrees warmer.

honghui quickly typed a message back, subconsciously bouncing his foot under the cover out of what was most likely nervousness, excitement, anticipation, who knows.

[ honghui : just wondering what you’re up to ]

[ lee hayoon : well, right now i’m getting ready for bed because it’s late. why aren’t you asleep? ]

[ honghui : i don’t know, if you want to go to sleep though i’ll let you ]

[ lee hayoon : it’s fine! i don’t mind talking for a while ]

[ honghui : are you sure? i don’t want to keep you up too late, i’ve got nothing going on tomorrow but i don’t know about you ]

[ lee hayoon : you’re so cute. it’s fine, i’m serious! ]

honghui felt his chest swell, as well as a strong urge to squeal into his pillow. but he didn’t, because that’s weird, and there were people sleeping a few feet away from him. a cute girl called him cute, and that absolutely made his heart melt.

he kinda lost track of time texting her. before he knew it, it was suddenly 2am and they had plans to hang out that friday. he could barely keep his eyes open.

[ honghui : i’m about to pass out. want to continue talking tomorrow? ]

[ lee hayoon : of course! goodnight :) ]

after reading her final message, honghui shut his phone off and turned over, smiling to himself. he’d consider that to be a pretty good night.

[ april 3rd, 2020, a random street corner ]

honghui stared at his phone eagerly, waiting for hayoon to say she was around the corner. they had decided to meet up and walk to the park nearby, where a couple of her friends might join her later that day. he was hesitant to this idea at first, but hayoon assured him everything would be fine. he was in such a good mood though that he didn’t let it bother him, not even the loud incessant honking of vehicles going down the street or the rather smelly dumpster in an alley behind him would dare taint his good mood.

suddenly his phone dinged, and he looked down to see a text from hayoon.

[ lee hayoon : i’m right around the corner! are you here yet? ]

honghui smiled excitedly before typing a message back.

[ honghui : yep! i’m wearing a long coat and a bucket hat lol ]

just then, a girl in a cute sporty jacket and chunky white sneakers walked around the corner and looked at him. it was hayoon, obviously, with her hands in her pockets and a big smile on her face.

“hi milo!” she said, waving excitedly at him. one of the first things he noticed about her was how short she was, not that that was a turn off or anything, but he had a good eight inches on her with her shoes on, he suspected she’d be about yongmi’s height without them, maybe shorter. it was cute.

“hi!” he said back, “you don’t need to call me milo by the way, my real name is fine.”

hayoon giggled nervously, “i totally would, i’m just really bad at pronouncing chinese words and names.”

“would calling me hyunsu make it easier? it’s my korean name, i don’t mind.”

hayoon nodded, smiling, “that works a lot better, i’ll remember that.”

as they walked to the park, they struck up friendly conversation with each other, hayoon told honghui about her new job at a cafe her aunt owns, and how she quit her job at the airport cafe because the transportation was too much of a hassle. honghui answered some questions she had about what being an idol is really like, and how their living situation is and all that. he was really starting to like her, she was cute, sweet, and fun to talk to.

eventually they got to the park, there wasn’t a lot there, but it was peaceful. it had a sort of serene vibe, an oasis within the concrete walls of the city.

they found a bench to sit down on which they stayed on for a while, continuing their conversations from the way over there. honghui never thought he’d learn so much about someone in a few hours, but by the time they were done, he knew the exact ages of her parents and siblings, he knew she had a tank of five fish each named after one of her favourite foods, he knew that she counted the stars through her window every night to help her fall asleep.

eventually, hayoon ran into a few of her friends while they walked around the park, and she introduced him as “her celebrity friend”. he thought that was... odd, but he didn’t say anything. they were nice enough, they asked him lots of questions about what it’s like being an idol, and he answered what he was allowed to. but before he knew it, the air was chillier and the sun was sinking down lower in the sky, giving him a signal that he probably should’ve gone back already.

as the candy floss clouds bled into the sunset, honghui bid his temporary goodbyes to hayoon and her friends, promising that they’d meet up again that weekend.

“so, i’ll see you again this weekend, right?” hayoon asked.

“definitely,” honghui replied, smiling softly with pink cheeks.

[ april 11th, 2020, hayoon’s living room ]

it didn’t feel like it had only been a week since the first time honghui and hayoon actually started hanging out.

this was officially their fifth “date”, and they had been texting 24/7, or at least it felt like they were. things were moving really fast. the first two times, they were out in public, but then their time time hanging out, hayoon took honghui to her apartment after he had come to visit her while she was working. she still lived with her mother, she was only 20 after all, and she was gonna start school soon and couldn’t afford to live on her own. her mother was out late working most nights though, so honghui never saw her.

this time, they were at her apartment, sitting in her living room watching a show. the heat wasn’t up far enough and both of them didn’t wanna get up to turn it off so hayoon resorted to cuddling up close next to honghui under their blanket, which made his heart race faster than he’d like to admit.

he really liked her, he’d already admitted that to himself, he’d also admitted it to yeonwoo right before he left that day. he could hear her voice ringing in her ears, saying, “tell her! you’ve got nothing to lose! she’s clearly interested in you.” maybe she was right.

“uh- hayoon?” he blurted out suddenly.

she looked over at him, “what’s up hyunie?” right. she had a nickname for him. maybe yeonwoo was right.

“i- uh-“ he started, trying to properly string his words together, but not getting far.

she smiled, chuckling slightly, “you what? spit it out! what do you-“

“i really like you.”

hayoon stared silently at honghui, which didn’t make him feel any better.

“oh god, sorry, that was sudden,” honghui replied quickly, his cheeks reddening, “it’s only been a week, i know, if you don’t feel the same i underst-“

hayoon cut off honghui’s rambling by sealing the gap between their lips, pressing hers against his. honghui didn’t know how to react at first, but soon sighed and relaxed into the kiss. the kiss was timid from honghui’s end, while hayoon smiled into the kiss before slowly pulling away.

honghui stared at her, dumbfounded, “so... is that a yes?”

hayoon laughed, “you’re so cute. and now i can tell people i kissed a celebrity.” honghui laughed along with that, but the laugh wasn’t as genuine as he thought it’d be.

[ april 13th, 2020, solar dorms ]

“you did WHAT?!”

“it all happened so fast! i- we just-“ honghui stumbled through his words, trying to make sense of everything that happened the previous night.

yeonwoo, who sat at the other end of the couch he was on, sighed, “that was a bit of an overreaction. i just can’t believe you lost your virginity before- literally anyone in this group who hasn’t lost their virginity yet!”

“i- don’t say it like that!” honghui’s cheeks burned as yeonwoo laughed, “it just happened, one thing led to another, you know, isn’t that how it usually goes?”

he couldn’t believe he lost his virginity to hayoon. the night after they first kissed, he visited her again, they watched their show again, and somewhere in there they kissed again. somehow that led to them making out, and then somehow that led to hayoon taking her shirt off, and somehow that led to them fucking. like he said, it all went by really fast.

“i can’t believe this.” yeonwoo groaned, “it’s been just over a week!”

“me neither,” she raised her eyebrows at honghui, “i didn’t expect us to go that far in the first place. but we did. and now i’ve lost my virginity to a fan i met at a damn airport.”

yeonwoo knitted her eyebrows together, “so... does this mean you two are a thing now?”

“i-“ he paused. were they a thing? he had no idea, they hadn’t had a serious conversation about it- at all.

“i don’t know,” honghui said finally, “we haven’t put a label on it, i guess.”

“are you going to?”

he shrugged, “maybe, we’ll see where it goes.”

yeonwoo sighed, looking at the ground, “how did you lose your virginity before me?” she laughed, lightly kicking honghui in the shin, to which he just shrugged in response, his cheeks burning a bright shade of vermillion.

[ april 19th, 2020, hayoon’s work ]

honghui officially had a girlfriend, and her name was lee hayoon.

they made it official the day after honghui had that talk with yeonwoo. he met up with hayoon and they talked about what they were, and since then, they’ve officially been boyfriend and girlfriend. so far, hayoon had been nothing but good to honghui, aside from all the “i’m dating a celebrity” jokes, which honghui found slightly obnoxious, but he chose to ignore it, because he liked her.

the cafe was relatively empty that time of day, so he found himself a table near the front door to sit down at and to wait for hayoon to finish her shift. he couldn’t see out the window well due to the building condensation, but it was overcast, and it had been raining most of the day. but today, instead of the gloomy weather reflecting his mood, honghui was feeling pretty good that day, he’d had a good three weeks, and he couldn’t see anything changing that.

when he saw hayoon emerge from the employee’s room, he stood up to greet her, but as he was about to walk over to her, the door opened. he looked over to see a small group of girls walking in, who hayoon obviously recognized, because she waved to them excitedly when they walked in.

more of her friends.

honghui sighed softly, he liked it better when they spent time together alone, but hayoon always had her friends around her. he knew her as a very social person, so he never thought much of it, but she didn’t seem to be with her friends a whole lot outside of when they hung out. it felt like almost every date now there was at least one of her friends present in some way.

he wasn’t one to protest though, so he kept silent on the issue.

“hi guys!” hayoon exclaimed as she walked over to the area where they all stood, reaching up to placing a hand on his shoulder. “hi hyunie,” she whispered, standing on the tips of her toes to try and kiss his cheek. he was so much taller than her that he had to lean down so she could reach his cheek.

“hi,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

[ april 24th, 2020, hayoon’s work ]

honghui opened the door to the cafe very slowly, seeing hayoon behind the counter with her back turned to him. with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand and a grin on his face, he snuck up to the counter to surprise her. before he came to visit her, he visited a nearby flower shop and picked up a small bouquet for her, no occasion in particular, he just felt like giving her something.

he paused when he realized she was talking on the phone to someone. now, he was never a nosy person, but he couldn’t help but eavesdrop a little on the conversation she was having.

“no, not today... yeah, he keeps saying he wants to be alone with me... god no not like that! he doesn’t like when i bring a lot of friends along...”

honghui’s face fell as she continued.

“it’s not possessive, he’s a celebrity after all... i’m not just dating him because he’s a celebrity! i mean, that may be part of it... no, but-“

hayoon froze when she turned around to see honghui there. he quickly hid the bouquet behind his back.

“hi, hyunie! you’re early, give me a second-“ she spoke quickly before she went back to her phone, quietly explaining that she was gonna hang up. once she did, she turned back to the boy at the counter with a smile, “how long have you been here? hopefully not long so you didn’t have to hear me talking on the phone for so long. me and my friends talk a lot.”

he shook his head quickly, forcing a smile on his face, “nope. just got here,” he lied through his teeth.

“that’s good,” hayoon said, walking around the counter to meet him on the other side, “did you get me flowers?” she gasped, seeing the bouquet in his hand. he nodded quickly and held them out for her to take.

“i love them!” she exclaimed, kissing his hand because she couldn’t reach his cheek. he softened seeing her reaction to the flowers, a genuine smile creeping across his lips.

[ april 27th, 2020, hayoon’s apartment ]

when honghui walked in, hayoon was laying on the couch, watching tv like usual. he didn’t even say hi to her, he didn’t need to, he just walked over to the couch and climbed on top of her, his head resting on her chest. she eventually fell asleep, and honghui tried to, but he didn’t feel like sleeping and he wouldn’t be able to even if he wanted to. whether it was the late afternoon sunlight pouring in through the thin curtains or the tv blaring, something was keeping him up.

he perked up when he heard hayoon’s phone buzz from on the floor beside the couch, also waking hayoon up. she didn’t check her phone, however, instead she tried to get up. she didn’t get very far though, because honghui wrapped his arms around her waist.

“don’t get up, you’re warm.”

hayoon tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp, “i’m just going to the bathroom, i’ll be right back.” he made a little sound of disapproval, but let go of her, flopping back down onto the couch as she stood up and left the room.

he groaned when her phone started dinging constantly. once again, he was never much of a nosy person, but curiosity got the better of him. he peered over the side of the couch to see what was so important that they had to sent six messages in a row.

[ message from : bestie 👯‍♀️ ]

that wasn’t really much of an indicator.

[ bestie : hayoooooon ]

[ bestie : are you there?? ]

[ bestie : or are you with your celebrity boyfriend again lol ]

[ bestie : come on he literally takes up so much of your time talk to meee ]

[ bestie : i mean i get it he’s your boyfriend but you keep saying he’s clingy ]

[ bestie : he’s gonna get in the way of our friendship lol ]

he suddenly wished he didn’t read those texts.

he was already an over thinker, but that might made it ten times worse. did hayoon think he was clingy? he didn’t think he was that clingy, but how clingy was too clingy for hayoon? he rolled on his back, sighing loudly, maybe it was just a misunderstanding, that was his solution to everything, just a misunderstanding.

that was when hayoon came back from the bathroom, walking over to the front of the couch. “you okay?” she asked, seeing him sprawled out staring up at the ceiling in thought.

he turned his head towards her hearing her voice, sitting himself up on the couch, “yeah. i think i’m gonna head back though, i don’t feel great.”

“that’s fine, is everything okay though?” she asked.

“yeah, it’s fine, i’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, standing up to give her a peck on the lips before grabbing his shoes and walking out the door.

he stayed up thinking a lot that night.

[ april 29th, 2020, solar dorms ]

this was the last straw.

over the last week there had been a lot of little occurrences that have almost set honghui off, but for some reason, this was the one that made him snap.

honghui and hayoon were in the middle of texting, and she accidentally sent him a text that was very obviously meant for someone else. normally this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but the message had something to do with how she wouldn’t like him as much if he wasn’t an idol.

[ hayoon : no he’s a sweetheart but not the type of person i’d date it he weren’t a celebrity ]

she deleted it quickly and apologized, but he’d already seen enough. he called her immediately, asking for an explanation.

“it’s not what it seems like, i swear, we were just joking around-“

“seems like a pretty weird thing to joke about, don’t you think?” honghui replied flatly.

“our humour is just like that. hyunie, listen-“

“don’t call me hyunie right now.” his voice dripped with venom. he’d only ever spoken with hayoon in the sweetest, warmest sounding voice, it didn’t sound like him at all. it scared hayoon a little quite frankly. “joke or not, it’s degrading. i just want you to be honest with me.”

hayoon sighed, “hyunsu, i’m sorry-“

“i want honesty, that’s all i want,” honghui replied, his voice softening a little. “i wouldn’t be making a big deal out of this if it wasn’t for everything that’s happened this week. the call, the texts-“

“so you did hear that phone call?”

“that’s not my point. so unless you have an explanation for all of this, i’m gonna hang up. be honest with me, if you don’t want to date me, say it to my face.”

“hyunsu, i...” her voice broke slightly, and honghui softened again. he still really likes her, so the fact that he had to do this fucking sucked. it felt like it was tearing his heart in half.

“you what, hayoon? spit it out.”

“i like you, i really do. but the reason i started dating you was because you were a celebrity, i got excited at the idea of dating a celebrity. and yeah, maybe if you weren’t famous i wouldn’t have been so quick to start dating you, but that doesn’t mean-“

honghui sighed, “i think i’ve heard enough.”

“wait! i’ll explain myself, i really do like you-“

“i like you too. but this fucking hurts, hayoon. would you like it if someone started dating you for your public status?”

hayoon sniffled so quietly it was almost inaudible, and her voice wavered slightly, “hyunsu-“

“i’ve heard enough. i don’t want to deal with this anymore.” honghui said bitterly. “goodbye, hayoon. find some other boy’s heart to break.”

and with that, he hung up.

they were over. a small part of honghui hoped that entire conversation would turn out to be a misunderstanding. they’d make up, and things would go back to normal. but sometimes, life doesn’t work out in your favour. sometimes it treated you like a little kid would a daisy they found in the grass- plucking you clean. which sounded like an exaggeration, but to honghui, a hopeless romantic who thought he and hayoon really had something, it wasn’t.

that was it. they were over. honghui hated it but he tried to remind himself that it was better this way.

that didn’t make it any easier.

[adorable-american]

In Denial pt2

Is in denial even two separate words? I suck at making titles.

Disclaimer: I dont own hetalia or its characters.

Ukus. Experienced! Arthur x naive! America

R18

Don't like, don't read.

After the lunch break America felt like he had a lot on his mind about last night and what he had been told this morning. Last night had basically been the first time that he'd ever gotten drunk with his friends, even if it was unintentional. And he had already been robbed of the insecurity that someone would do that to him. He now felt like he could never drink alone should he have wanted to, but that wasn't the only thing he had almost been robbed of. Thinking of it was making him sick now and he was trying anything he could to distract himself. From clicking his pen to tapping it, bouncing his leg to drumming his fingers. Nothing was really helping and everyone was becoming annoyed of him. That was apparent after being shushed and silenced each time. Finally he just excused himself and went to the restroom. He wasn't sure why he went there but he did. Grabbing the edge of the sink he just stared at himself in the mirror with discontent. Splashing cool water on his face in another fatal attempt to calm down.

"Would you like to go for a walk? Fresh air may do you some good." England had slipped into the bathroom to check on the American, knowing he wasn't ok.

"Sure, that sounds great."

England walked with America for quiet a bit until they found a little outdoor café. "Coffee?" The Englishman asked, wanting to stop and have a serious talk.

"Ooh! Yes, please!" America drifted towards the tables, finding a table for two and sitting themselves before a waitress came over.

"I'll have an London Fog." England requested.

"Uhm, just a black coffee for me. Thank you." America said before turning his attention to England. "Ok, so, I have something important to ask of you."

"Oh? Ok, ask." England encouraged him, still hoping Alfred could finally be admitting his affections. The way he was so nervous and squirming made it obvious it was a very personal question.

"So... last night-" America began recounting how he now felt about last night to England, how he felt robbed of so many little freedoms. "But there is one thing that the person almost took from me. Something very important- my virginity." America finally said it. He felt like he had already admitted it to himself but saying it now, telling that to another. He didn't feel a reprieve but instead he felt heavier with that information.

"Oh... Alfred." England paused as the waitress returned with their orders.

"Wait, I'm not finished." America interrupted. He didn't want Arthur's pity... or did he? He wasn't sure anymore. As the waitress left he continued, "So, my question to you is- would you be the one to help me get rid of my v-card?"

England choked on his drink. "What?!"

America folded his arms as he did when becoming defensive. Shrugging his shoulders up he began to curl in on himself. England could see him shutting down.

"Alfred, please, explain to me how you almost being raped, led to the conclusion that we should have sex? Forgive me for not understanding." England used America's human name when in public and right now, America wasn't sure he liked hearing it, it ringing a bell that they used their human names last night too. And a strange blurry figure talking to him using his name.

"Please! Don't call me that." America was losing his peace. He wanted to run away from here and never return.

"Hey, I'm sorry. It's ok, Ame." England spoke softly, switching easily to the nickname. Laying his hand on the table he had his palm open his fingers spread open like he was waiting for something.

America slowly gave England his hand, calming down as England started rubbing circles on the back of his hand and clasping America's one hand with both of his.

America sighed. "England, for me, giving up my virginity is my right. I want to choose that, I want my first time to be with someone special. I've like you for quite some time and you are always here for me." America paused looking England in the eye then down to their hands. America squeezed England's hand a little to prove his point. "I'm not deciding this out of fear if that's what you're thinking, I'm doing this for me." America finished the thought, returning his gaze to England's.

"Then yes, I will do it for you and only for you. But please, if at any point you change your mind do not feel like you have to do it. You are also allowed to change your mind and keep waiting for as long as you want." England spoke, hoping that the younger man might actually change his mind but he didn't react. England just sighed hoping he would at least think about it.

"So, Ame, I have an important question for you then." England inhaled and exhaled slowly before looking up to see the curious blue eyes in front of him. Eyebrows knit together wonderinf what he could be asked. England smiled at how cute he looked, hiding his smile however, thinking the timing a bit inappropriate. "So, America, I really like you a lot and I want to be here for you. I want to help you in every way possible but if you will allow me, I would like to be more than your friend. I would like for us to be together, as a couple?"

"Yes."America said without hesitation.

*******

Leaving the cafe together England invited America to continue their walk and sight see the city a little more. To which America agreed and took England's hand, they maybe it was America's lack of awareness or England's lack of attention to take things slow but they acted like any long term couple, holding hands, taking pictures with the gorgeous scenery and monuments. They got pictures kissing each other, America kissing England's cheek, and even one of England dipping America back for a passionate kiss. In just several hours it was like they'd been doing it for years. Until it came time to return back to the hotel. The closer they got to the hotel the more and more warmer America felt. His cheeks flushing red. England didn't notice as the sun sank and the street lights came on with the bluish hues. The night just as romantic as the day, if not more. Still trying to impress his new boyfriend the englishman soon heard a violinist playing on the sidewalk and he twirled America around, bowing to him and asking for this dance. All around people were awing and smiling at the action. America smiled nervously and took England's hand.

"It's ok, I'll lead. Just follow my step." He whispered into his ear and soon enough they fell into rhythm together.

And so they danced, America did his best to keep up with England but he stumbled and lost his footing a few times, tripping both of them up. England just smiled and laughed. Continuing the dance and trying his best to help America. England's laugh was contagious, America couldn't help but laugh too.

Soon the song ended, the violinst took a bow. Everyone who had been watching tossed notes into the violin case, including America. They continued their walk happy and still laughing at themselves.

*******

Entering England's hotel room he turned to America. "Do you want to shower first or maybe go get anything from your room?"

America hesitated. "Am I staying with you tonight?" He asked, mouth going dry.

"Well, I just assumed you would but you don't have too." England squatted down by his suitcase, pulling out lubricant and condoms from the inside pocket.

"Ah, yeah, I'd like too, I'll go get my night clothes and my suit for tomorrow." America said as he exited the room.

"You probably won't need-" England started but was cut off by the door clicking shut. Letting out a sigh he wished America would change his mind about this but he also wished that he wouldn't. Waiting patiently he went to turn the water on for America. Once the water was hot and steam escaped the bathroom England decided to just take one and go to bed, assuming America had changed his mind and probably didn't have the nerves to come tell him. He checked his phone once more. "It shouldn't take 10 mins to grab clothes." He spoke out loud. He hated how sad he felt that America didn't return but it was probably for the best.

Drying himself off, England stepped ouf of the bathroom to find America sitting on the edge of the bed. He had his knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped around them as he rested his chin against his knee. "I didn't think you'd come back." Arthur said tucking his towel against his waist and moving over to the American.

"Sorry, I took a minute." America said putting his legs down.

England's lips started to twitch up into a smirk as he straddled the younger blonde's lap. "Or were you primping for me?"

America's face turned bright red, even his ears tinged red with embarrassment.

"How cute!" England kissed him, tasting the peppermint toothpaste that America used, and intentionally ruffling up America's brushed hair so that it looked more fluffy. "Your hair looks sexier like this."

Unbuttoning the top few buttons of America's dress shirt, England pushed the shirt open and let his hand roam over America's chest and shoulders. Pushing the shirt's collar away England kissed America's neck, letting his warm breath make the younger nation shiver. England quickly switched to using his teeth, leaving bite marks on America. Switching again to his lips he sucked America's sensitive skin, nipping and licking the area until little purple bruises formed.

America moaned and groaned, wrapping his arms around Britain's neck and pulled him closer. He could feel himself becoming hot under England's touch.

Feeling satisfied with the numerous markings England left on America he finally traveled downward, undoing America's shirt completely. He smirked deviously as he thought about taking America's clothing off like wrapping paper on a present and was trying so hard not to rip America's clothes off.

Shrugging his shirt off America tugged at the hem of England's shirt, "you too." He spoke, his voice quiet.

England smirked as he sat upright taking his shirt off quickly, tossing it to the floor as he let his hands cup America's face, kissing him hard and pushing him down onto the mattress. America's head rolled back at an odd angle without support from a pillow.

America brought a leg up as he tried to push himself up to the pillows, but as he did he felt England's hardened member press against his thigh. Once fixed against the pillows he reached down and undone England's suit pants.

Feeling his pants become less restrictive England pulled America's belt from its place, undoing America's clothing much faster than America could remove England's. Left with just his boxers on he was quick to grab America by his wrists. "I know you want to reciprocate but not now. Tonight is all about you, Love." England kissed America's knuckles. Once America was completely naked and shivering from the cold England let each of America's hands clench tightly in his own individual hands. He lowered his mouth to America's already leaking member. Starting from the base he licked all the way up to America's head. Illiciting a loud gasp from the younger.

America could feel his stomach in knots, heat rising in his cheeks and his nerves feeling white hot with tension. The one action from England wound him up tightly. He felt like he was going to explode already. "Ah! England!~" he shouted, his hands sweating against England's, toes curling in the sheets before he hooked one leg around England's waist.

England couldn't help but chuckle. "You are so adorable." He said smirking, placing a kiss too America's tip. "I forgot how little it takes for a virgin."

America's eyes were closed but he could hear England smiling and laughing, he could feel him wink as he poked fun of the American. "Shut up!" America squeezed his hands. Reminding England that he could break his hand with just a little more pressure.

"Ah! What the hell!?" England jerked his hands back.

"Don't make fun of me!" America pouted.

England's voice became snide as he rubbed lube into his hands. "And don't you forget who is in control of you right now." England was a bit possessive when it came to his lovers but America might make him worse, especially considering how long he has admired the sunshiny blonde underneath him. Pressing a finger into America's entrance as he made his point ,the young nation arched his back so high and quick off the bed that England lost his hold and fell back.

America cried out in pain and pleasure. He felt confused. "That hurt!"

"Really? Then why'd you moan?" England teased, pushing his finger in again, slowly moving and stretching America's hole.

"Fuck off... oh!~" America grumbled before England pressed into him again, making him moan again.

England was quick to add a second finger and lastly the third. Making America squirm under him.

Returning his free hand to America's cock, he stroked the young blond.

Once England felt that it was time he warned America, making sure the young nation was still wanting to go through with this.

"Gosh, please just do me already!" America spoke irritatedly. He was feeling so good from what England was doing but the constant reassuring was getting a bit on his nerves.

England rolled his eyes as he pulled his fingers out.

America whined. England finally tugged his boxers down, America looked down at England's full member. Swallowing a lump in his throat when he realized how much girth the brit had.

England steadied himself with one hand using the other to keep America still and in place. He started to push in. America groaned in pain, his hands clenching in the sheets under himself.

England didn't stop until he was all the way in. "Ame, I'm in, are you ok?"

America hesitated. "Y-yeah."

"Ok, I'm going to move." England warned. Slowly pulling himself back before thrusting in. America wS tense and tight around him. He moved slowly, allowing America to adjust and get more comfortable with the feeling.

As America began to relax and England resumed to stroke him off. It didn't take the Englishman long to find America's G-spot. "Aw fuck! There! Emgland! Ah~" America practically screamed with pleasure.

Quickening his pace both inside of America and around his cock Ameeica came without warning. With a few more thrusts in America's quivering body England came as well.

Pulling himself out he brought his soiled hand to his lips, tasting America's seed.

"Gross." America huffed from exhaustion.

"Don't say that, you taste good.~" England winked. "You do realize this is normal to do right?"

America stayed silent. Causing the British to laugh even more at him.

"Come, darling. Let's go clean up." England resigned. Not wanting to explain or convince America more on the subject. "You are bleeding and probably going to be hurting so let's hurry and take care of you." England said pulling America to his feet. Leading him to the shower.

After they showered England cleaned the sheets up best he could before retiring to bed. Wrapping his arms around America's waist and pressing his nose into America's fresh clean hair he cuddled up to America's back. "I love you, Ame." England said to the snoring idiot.

[sniffle-elf]

“I’m cold. Come closer.” - for Gabriel and John, if you can? :3

OKAY SO. As I mentioned, this grew into something completely unexpected, and I’m sorry if it’s not your jams. Feel free to shoot me another request if you totally hate it. 

Also, it should be noted that this takes place in a fantasy medieval kingdom where things like allergies aren’t really known. All Gabriel knows is the ‘smell’ of horses makes him ‘sensitive’. Okay bye. 

John & Gabriel. 2.4K words. Allergies. 

Autumn in Etrania came all at once. One afternoon it was hot out, summer lingering and making the more nocturnally challenged inhabitants of the kingdom seek refuge inside the cool shade of their homes. The next day brought a cool breeze and the scent of rain. And every day after that was rain and wind and clouds that were dark and heavy with possibility.

John had decided to take advantage of the sudden arrival of dreariness to spend more time with his horse. Without the need of a hat to protect himself from the deadly sunlight, he understood better the phrase 'weather permitting' than he ever had. It was nice to be able to ride along Gabriel's countryside without worrying about silly things such as sun poisoning. With Gabriel busy all day, holding Court and overseeing some sort of improvement on the castle, John had been presented with both the time and the opportunity for a good, long ride, and he had taken it gladly.

When he returned to the castle finally, stormy twilight had settled over Etrania like an angry, purple blanket. Just as he was handing Satine's reins over to an eager stablehand, the skies opened as if the clouds had been pierced by a thousand tiny knives. Immediately, John had spluttered and lifted an arm to shield himself from the wet, cursing the dreariness that had made a hat unnecessary. You could never win, it would seem. He didn't quite run across the castle grounds, but it was a near thing, his boots slipping over wet grass in his haste to get inside sooner.

It was only as he climbed the stairs to the quarters he shared with Gabriel that he realized just how tired he was. Tired, and drained. Something he had learned since being turned; being tired was very different from feeling drained. He felt drained mostly when he was hungry, just before he started to slip into the bloodlust that made him feel as if his body was dying, one cell at a time, and he felt as if every ounce of energy had been bled from him.

How ironic.

When Lucas sprang forward to open the door for him, with an exaggerated bow and a greeting of, "Hello, Boss!" John barely had the energy to roll his eyes at him. Waving a hand over his shoulder, he shivered and dripped his way into the circular sitting room, reaching up to unfasten the brooch holding his now soggy cloak closed. He sighed, a tired sound, and hung his cloak up to drip near the door. A hand was pushed into his wet hair, and he realized that the very act of hanging up his cloak and pushing damp curls from his eyes had all but done him in. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was cold.

Thankfully, there was already a warm fire burning in the hearth and the unmistakable scent of bergamot tea. It was amazing what he could notice now, with his enhanced vampire senses. The scent of tea on the air. The rumblings of an incoming storm, still miles off. The sound of animals creeping in the forest behind the castle. And the cold. He noticed the cold so much more now, which he had initially found odd. Why would a vampire, one whose blood no longer ran hot, notice the cold? He did, though, finding winter as excruciating as summer, though for very different reasons. He had once, a bit drunkenly after too much brandy taken with Gabriel's father in the study, compared himself to a lizard who didn't know if it wanted to be perched atop a sunny rock, or hiding beneath it.

Gabriel had called himself the rock, and John had become aware, for the first time since being changed, that vampires could blush if they had fed recently enough.

The rock in question was, no doubt, the reason for the crackling fire and John's favourite tea, being kept warm in a kettle wrapped in wool. The king himself was standing near the window, behind a large easel. With a paintbrush in hand and his eyes fixed on the storm, he hadn't moved to greet John, or even lifted his eyes from his work. That meant he was very much caught up in it all, which also meant that John had to go to him. And it didn't matter, it turned out, what you were. Vampire or human, king or commoner. If your partner approached you with damp clothing and skin chilled from the wind and rain, you were likely to notice. No matter what you were doing.

"Christ!" The paintbrush left a streak of navy across the canvas when Gabriel jumped at a cold hand being worked up beneath his shirt. Muffling laughter between his mate's shoulderblades, John held on fast even as Gabriel tried to shake him off, squirming in a very un-royal fashion. "What are you doing, you're freezing! And wet, Johnny, get off!” Despite the harsh words, Gabriel's voice was warm with amusement, and his motions were half-hearted at best. Exaggerated, perhaps, to make John laugh. That was enough to make warmth bloom in John's chest, spreading through him slowly. Not enough to chase the chill from his bones entirely, but definitely enough to make him smile and hum a content note against Gabriel's shoulder.

"I'm cold," he murmured, a shiver running down his spine and making him tremble against the solid warmth of Gabe's back. He took his hand from Gabriel's chest, settling instead for wrapping his arms around his beloved's waist and shuffling closer to him. They were pressed together, from shoulder to hip to knee, and John would still move closer if he could. Gabriel, who was unfed and barely warmer than room temperature, felt as warm to him as if he'd been basking in front of the fire for hours. Rubbing his nose against the soft casual tunic that Gabriel had traded his Court finery for, John kissed his shoulder and tightened his arms around him in a plaintive squeeze. "Come closer."

Gabriel shuffled back a step, moving away from his easel so that he could turn in John's arms and hug him properly. With arms looped loosely around John's waist, he smiled up at him with the kind of tenderness that was reserved for him alone. "Closer? Johnny, I don't think two people can stand closer than we are now. Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly, apparently afraid that John would take offence to his desire to be closer. About to insist that there were several ways that they could, in fact, be closer, John was silenced by a kiss pressed to his forehead. And it was so simple a gesture, so sweet and warm, that it immediately silenced his slightly bawdy protest. Settling for huffing quietly, John dipped his head to accept the second kiss that he knew was coming, and the nuzzle to the tip of his cold nose. Gabriel, his honey-eyed king, could put out a fire just as quickly as he'd set it ablaze, and John was weak to his tiny affections. He pressed his forehead to his collarbone, humming again when the top of his head was kissed quietly.

"How was Court?" It didn't matter that his voice was, more or less, muffled into Gabriel's shirt. He knew that Gabe was used to his need to touch, and to feel, and to be as close as possible some days. And that this sometimes meant he had to decipher John's grumbled speech that was half-obscured by whatever part of his body was currently being spoken to. They had become rather adept at communicating that way. That, and when Gabe refused to lift his head from where it was crushed against his pillow in the mornings, and still thought that John could even halfway understand him.

"Well," Gabriel mused, his lips brushing the top of John's head when he spoke, his voice thoughtful. "It was long. And slow. And dragged on. And..." He cut himself off with soft laughter when John dug a knuckle into his ribs, squirming to get away from the ticklish touch without actually releasing John from the warm circle of his arms. He gave a soft sniffle and braced his chin atop John's curls instead, rubbing one hand over his back absently, a touch that made John sigh contentedly. "It was good. We got a sweet little piglet..." He drew back just enough to press a knuckle beneath his nose, giving it a quick and dismissive rub, and smiled up at John, his eyes sparkling. "He's cute."

"Cute?" Eyes narrowing in suspicion, John pulled back further still. "He is delicious. I'm going to eat him for breakfast!" Gabriel had always wanted a pet, but his father had not allowed it in his youth. And now, because of that, he often joked about keeping every animal that was brought to them as a token. And John would joke right back that he was going to eat said animal. When Gabriel didn't laugh again, the way he normally did, John lifted an eyebrow and poked his mate in the ribs again. "Now, you can't be all that attached to a piglet, Gabe. Really, despite my current company, I do have standards. I--"

"Hh'ITSH’iew!" The sneeze came on so suddenly that it stole away the witty remark that John's tongue was still wrapped around. He blinked in surprise, leaning back when Gabriel turned away hurriedly, curled fist already lifted to deflect another itchy sounding, "Hk'IShhhieew!" A quick sniffle and Gabriel turned back, though he did so hesitantly while performing the rather boyish act of wiping his hand dry against the side of his pants. Pulling a face, John squirmed away from Gabriel, patting his body lightly in search of a handkerchief concealed in some pocket or another. All his hands contacted, however, was the damp fabric of his riding clothing.

"God bless you. I've nothing, I'm afraid. Are you quite alright?" He lifted a hand to touch Gabriel, intending on stroking his thumb over the curve of his cheek. His wrist was caught just short of contact being made, and Gabriel pressed a quick kiss to his palm before gently pushing his hand down. He sniffled again, a quick series of short, wet bursts of sound. It was something that would typically cause irritation to spark in John, the repetitive sound of it getting under his skin. But the expression on Gabriel's face, crumpling slowly as the realization of another sneeze dawned upon him, had him too curiously concerned, and perhaps just a little amused. This must have shown in his expression, some twitch of his mouth, or a sparkle in his eyes, because Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, damp and pink looking already.

"I'm fine. Wh..why do you look lihh--" He pushed the bulb of his nose into the palm of his hand and rubbed it in quick, rough circles. This was apparently enough for now, enough for him to relieve the itch long enough to finish his thought. "Look like that? Like this is funny?" This was such a childish gesture that most of his worry gave way to further amusement, and John hid a smile behind a hand lifted to his mouth. Gabriel glared, though it was short-lived due to the arrival of the sneeze he'd managed to stave off. He turned aside once more, this time tucking his face neatly into the bend of his elbow. John rubbed his back through the fit, his brows lifting when the count reached seven, and Gabriel's breath hitched once more, indicating he wasn't done yet. There was, however, a pause long enough for John to speak over his mate's shivering breath.

"God bless you. Are you quite done?" He blinked innocently when Gabriel glared at him once more, dark lashes spiked with tears, his eyes pink and sensitive looking. For to be certain, this was one of Gabriel's sensitivities. And John, who had tapped his clothing once again to search in vain for a handkerchief, was quite surprised that it had taken him this long to realise that the scent of Satine must be clinging to him still. And, judging from the expression that crossed Gabriel's face when he fitted John with a watery glare, he had reached the same conclusion.

"What are you wearing? What have you behhh... huhhEISH'oo!" Despite how many times Gabriel had sneezed already, they still sounded desperate, as if the itch in his nose was still simply too much to bear. Another sneeze, a damp sounding, "huhisshhhh!" that was mostly smothered in the sleeve of his shirt, and he finally lifted his head again, looking bleary and blinking rapidly. His voice was a stuffy rasp when he finally spat out, "What did you do today?"

"Well!" Huffing a little, John put further distance between them, moving to the chest of drawers where their handkerchiefs were kept in neat stacks. He pulled one of the more absorbent squares and brought it back to Gabriel, trying not to laugh when the pouting king snatched the cloth from his hand impatiently and held it to his nose with a thick sniffle. "Honestly, you can't expect me to just sit around and look pretty while you're holding court. Don't," he added, when it looked as if Gabriel may make some sort of smart remark. He half-turned from his mate, reaching for the cord belt at his waist. "Don't start. I had to amuse myself somehow, and your father has already trounced me at chess twice this week. You said you wanted me to get out more," he added when Gabriel made a stuffy, annoyed sound before blowing his nose. He continued to defend himself as he undressed, leaving his riding clothes in a growing heap on the floor. "And you gave me Satine to begin with. Remember? She was just a little thing, and..." The river of his defence trickled to almost nothing when he turned, stripped down to just his breeks, and saw the way that Gabriel was looking at him. "What?"

Gabriel sniffled once more, giving his nose one final swipe with the handkerchief before advancing on him, moving in that slowly deliberate way that always sent a chill up John's spine. His voice was thick with congestion when he spoke, but low and simmering with suggestive heat. "Are you still cold?"

Feeling suddenly breathless, John reached up to untie the leather thong that held it back. His curls fell over his shoulders, and he reached for Gabriel with one hand, shivering again. "Come closer."

[thewritingginger]

Valentine’s Day In

This is a bit late to say the least, I was hoping to post this on Valentine’s Day but school work had my ass occupied so for the past week I was going back and forth between school work and writing 😒 

Also I know I have a bajillion wips todo, a few of which are Valentine’s Day prompts 

bUt

I got a super cute fluffy idea for Valentine’s Day and the motivation came to me so I hope we can let it slide for now. Right?  😅

Anyways I hope you enjoy ~ Also I wrote this while listening to THIS, so if you want you can listen to it while you read as well :3

Fandom: Obey Me! Pairing: Satan x GN! Reader  Word Count:  2,866 words Warning(s): Cheesy, kinda rom-com-y, probably not perfect lol

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The forecast was said to be sunny with slight cloudiness. When you opened the window this morning the sky was indeed cloudy, but instead of sun it was matched with a downpour.

You and Satan had planned the whole day together.

Starting with a relaxing morning of talking and reading in eachothers arms. Then to go for a walk around town, window shopping till dinner time. But since it was stormy outside and you weren’t really in the mood to get dressed up to then get soaked.

But although going out wasn’t really an option anymore, you were still going to spend your day relaxing with Satan as you’ve already planned.

The agenda was already in motion as you and Satan started your day having breakfast together, followed by hanging out in his room reading and cuddling. When it came to be around noon you went to take a shower. Once you were out, your hair still damp, you headed back to Satan’s room. But when you knocked on his door and opened it, the room was empty.

“Hmm.” Since he wasn’t in his room, you went to the study. But came to find he wasn’t there either, infact, he wasn’t anywhere in the house. ‘Where the hell is he?’ Letting out a sigh, you headed back to your room and texted him.

Y/n: “Hey, where are you?”

Satan: “Sorry, something came up and I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I should be home in a couple hours. 💚

Closing your messages you sigh, falling onto the plush mattress of your bed.

Since Satan wouldn't be around for a while you spent your time doing some work. In the time waiting for him you finished up an assignment for class and tidied up your room a bit. Nothing too exciting but it beat just sitting around. While scrolling through Devilgram you got another message from the awaited demon.

Satan: “I’m probably gonna be another hour or so.”

Sitting up in bed, feeling a bit defeated, you leave to go downstairs. On your way down you ran into Beel and Belphie. “Hey, Y/n.”

“Hey, Beel. Whatcha guys up to?”

“Nothing much, actually we wanted to see if you wanted to come hang out for a bit.”

Considering the request, you accept. “Sure, why not. Satan won't be home for a bit longer anyways.” You say, a bit sadder than you intended.

“Great! I got some new snacks I want you to try. Come on.” Beelzebub says with a smile, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

~~~

It had been awhile since you’ve entered the twins room. The time was spent eating different treats and chatting. Feeling ready to leave you stood up, “Well I think Imma head out. I had a lot of fun with you guys but I don’t want to intrude anymore.”

“Wait!” Beel says. Belphegor sighs at his brother's outburst.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong.” Belphegor corrects. “It’s just that we don’t get to spend much time with you it seems. With you dating Satan and all, Beel just thought we could have you around a bit longer.”

You frown a bit. “I’m sorry guys, I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just sit back down.”Belphie sighs, making you laugh.

~~~

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Door’s open.” Beel hollars, not looking up  from the card game the three of you are playing. The door opens,

“There you are.” You turn towards the familiar voice to see the man you’ve been waiting for. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“You should be.” You sass.

“Mind if I take her from you guys?” Satan asks his brothers. They nod their heads, engrossed by their game. Putting your cards down you say your goodbyes to leave the room with Satan. Once the door is closed you smack his chest, causing him to laugh. “Woah, easy.”

“You know, you left me high and dry, right?” You cross your arms, brow raised.

“Yes, yes I did. Won’t you forgive me?” Placing his hands on your hips, he looks down at you with his gemstone eyes.

“Fine! But don’t think I’ll let it slide again.”

“I wouldn’t expect it.” He smiles, punctuating his sentence with a chased kiss.

Back at your bedroom, you walk in while Satan stays on the other side of the door. “Well, aren’t you gonna come in?” You say.

“Nope. That’s because I’m leaving you to get dressed.”

“Wait, why?” You asked, confused.

“You’ll just have to find out, won’t you.” He grins, “Now get dressed. I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Before you can say anything else, he closed the door. And with that you spent the next hour getting ready.

Stepping in front of a mirror you take a look at your work. Wearing your best outfit, admiring how the rich green fabric accentuates your body perfectly. Your hair styled. Face fresh. Brushing the invisible wrinkles from your front you head to the stairs. From the top you see Satan standing at the bottom, dressed in his finest suit. His eyes light up when they land on you, a smile accompanying the starlight gaze.

Descending the staircase you take your time letting your eyes wander down his frame.  His hair is combed back, allowing a clear view of his shape features. His body’s adorned with a well fitted suit, the breast pocket housing a pocket square in his signature color. Trailing your vision down to where his hands join at his stomach. A bouquet of peonies resides between his palms.

Nearing the end of the staircase he extends his hand, guiding you down the last few steps. Standing before him he looks down at you, words yet to be spoken between you. Bringing your hand to his lips he places a kiss on your knuckles.

“You look perfect.” He confesses, almost in a whisper as if speaking to himself. “These are for you.” Offering your hands the flowers, he smiles.

Looking down at the bouquet you admire the layered petals in variants of blush pink. Taking a breath of the sweet smell you sigh. “They’re gorgeous, Satan. You didn’t have to get me any~.” You’re cut off by a strong arm taking yours.

“Of course I did. Every beautiful person deserves the small treasures of life.” His voice is like butter. The way each syllable rolls off his tongue effortlessly, always seeming to have an answer for everything.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” He says with a wink.

Reaching the back of the house you are led to a door that leads into another study of sorts.

Upon opening the door you hear soft jazz and the fireplace crackling in the air. Looking around you see candles lit and flowers everywhere. A few vases of the same pink flowers in your hands scattered around the room and petals trailing a path through double-doors that lead to a patio area that has a full view of the lush garden with a pond. Outside under the covering you see a table set for two with more candles littered about. A bottle of wine and two glasses reside there waiting for you. Breathing in the smell of the earth mixed with the rain you sigh.

You’re speechless. The music. The setting. Him. It’s all perfect.

“Oh, Satan. This is… amazing. How~ When?” Your mind is racing.

“I’ve been working on it all day. Since we couldn’t go out for Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d bring it to us. Do you like it?” He asks, worried he might have done too much.

Placing your bouquet on the table, you turn around to wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him in for a kiss.

Pulling back you gaze into his eyes, your fingers gently raking through his golden locks. “I love it.” Satan smiles, relieved. ”So, I’m guessing that’s why Beel and Belphie asked me to hang out. You just needed a distraction, and here I thought they actually missed me.”

“Well, truthfully, I did ask them to make sure you didn’t come downstairs. Though, what they did to accomplish that I had no part in. But enough about that, please ~.” Satan says, gesturing at the quaint table. “Would you like to sit down?” Satan asks, pulling out your chair. Accepting his invitation you sit down. His fingers linger awhile after  pushing you in, as he makes his way to the other side of the table. Handing you a glass of wine he poured, your fingers hold his for a moment before separating once again. “You’re not cold are you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine.” You were definitely more than fine, you actually began to feel a bit warm. The way his eyes look over you. Unable to read what he must be thinking. Your guesses and wishes of what those thoughts may be only made you warmer. Shaking yourself from those thoughts you relax into your chair.

Sitting in comfortable silence. The music playing, lulls you into a trance. Sipping your wine you sway to the mellow notes. You don't notice right away how Satan is watching you. His chin propped on his hand, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. When you see him eyeing you, you sit up straight and laugh a bit. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly. 

Getting up, Satan offers you his hand once again.

“Won't you dance with me?”

“Of course.” You say, taking his hand.

Standing in the middle of the covered area, your left hand enclosed in his as your right rests on his shoulder. His strong arm wraps around your back holding you close. Swaying to the notes playing in the air, you rest your head on his chest. Breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musk. His cheek rests upon your head, pressing a gentle kiss in your hair.

Looking up, your eyes meet, foreheads touching. His eyes alone are enough to speak a thousand words for him. They tell you everything he doesn’t.

They compliment you. Say how much they adore you. They say, ‘I need you!’

In this silent conversation your free hand moves to cup his cheek. The sweet touch makes him sigh into you. Reachin up he holds your wrist to kiss your palm. His eyes, never leaving yours. You can’t help the giggle that leaves your throat. The sweet yet sensual motion creates butterflies in your stomach.

Releasing you, allowing your hand to resume its place on his shoulder as his, goes to rest on your hip.

“You know I love you, right?” He says. A flirtatious glint in his eye.

“Well of course you do. It’s only natural.” You say playfully making him laugh. His toothy grin makes your heart flutter.

“Is that so? Then tell me Y/n, what else is ‘only natural’?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment. No matter how long you’ve been together he still somehow manages to make you flustered and giddy. Biting your lip in thought, you smile.

“Well, ignoring the fact you’re a demon and I’m a human.” You start. Pulling another low chuckle from the blonde. “I’d say, this moment and every other moment shared between us is. Being with you, whether in sweatpants on your bed or dressed up like we are now, every minute spent with you is perfect.”

“So you’re telling me I didn’t have to do all this then? I wished you told me sooner, it would’ve saved me a lot of time” He says with a chuckle and slapping his shoulder only made him laugh harder. But you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“Well I’d like to think I’m quite humorous” He says, pulling your waist into his. Leaning down for a kiss but you pull away.

“Is that so? Then prove it.”

He studies your challenging eyes. Kissing his teeth he accepts your jab. “Ok. Then how do you suspect I’ll do that?”

“Hmm.” You look to the side, pondering the question. Then an idea popped in your head. “Ok Mr. Humorous, why don’t you prove to me just how fun you can be by jumping into the pond.” You say, holding back a smile. Seeing him process your request, you are about to laugh when you see him beginning to take off his blazer. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m doing as you asked.” He says with a smirk.

You watch him remove his blazer and button up, followed by his shoes and socks. Standing straight in all his shirtless glory you take a moment to appreciate his physique. His smooth skin stretched over toned muscles. The flexing of his arm as he moves to sweep his hair back to look at you.

“What are you waiting for? Take off your shoes, unless you want to get them dirty.” He says. You let out a hum as his words shake you from your thoughts. He laughs, as if knowing what had you distracted. “You didn’t really think I’d be walking out there alone did you? I expect you to help me out since you’re the reason I’m going to be in there.”

“Fine. But only if I get to push you in.” You say taking off your shoes. He smiles at your requirement.

“Fine by me.”

Holding your jacket over your head to shield yourself from the rain as much as possible you and Satan begin to walk across the grass.

At the pond Satan turns to you, “So are you gonna push me in or do I have to jump in?” Laughing at his question but mostly at his appearance. Already drenched without stepping a single foot into the water.

“Oh I’m gonna push you in.” You say. Inching to the edge of the pond, ready to push Satan in. When your hands make contact with his hot skin a hand wraps around your wrist and before you knew it you were going down with him.

Splashing into the water you come up gasping at the frigid temperature. “Satan!” You say splashing water in his face. All you can hear is the rain and the hearty laugh coming from the demon’s chest. Slicking your hair out of your face you look at the man still laughing. “It’s not funny!” Though despite your words you couldn’t suppress the laugh that comes out of your mouth as well.

“It’s pretty funny if you ask me.”

“That was not part of the deal.”

“Well actually, our deal was you get to push me in. Nowhere in that agreement did we state I couldn’t pull you in with me.” He says, stepping closer to you. His strong arms holding you close edging away the cold around you.

“Well remind me next time to cover all bases because that was cheap and you know it.”

“They don’t call me a demon for nothing.” He says. His voice low, a small smirk playing his lips. Droplets of water fall from the loose strands of hair around his face.

“You look like a wet dog.” You say, pushing his wet hair back.

“I think we both do but that doesn’t matter, right? What was it you said earlier? No matter where we are, as long as we are together, it's perfect? Well to that I couldn’t agree more.” His words make you smile, warmth fills your chest. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. Once your lips touch the arms around your body tightens, lifting you up. Encircling your legs around his waist your kiss deepens. Your tongues dancing with one another. The taste and feeling of him sends electricity through you. Your fingers coil in his wet locks. Everything around you faded away. You couldn’t feel the rain or hear the music playing in the house anymore. Your senses are completely consumed by him. His touch. His smell. Everything. You wanted it all. You couldn’t care less where you were at this moment. You’d sooner let yourself drown in the water around you than let go of him. How can one person have such an affect on you?

Pulling away, both catching your breaths, your foreheads resting against each other. Though separated, the heat between you two is ever-present. His large hand cradles your cheek, keeping you close. His eyes shut for a moment to collect himself before looking back to you. His gaze is softer than before,

“I love you more than you know. Thank you for being mine.” Your chest swells. Stocking his cheek you kiss his lips once more.

“You don’t need to thank me, Satan. But I will ask you to warn me next time you decide to throw me in water.” You tease, but you both know you don’t really mind how things turned out.

“Let’s go back inside and warm up by the fire.” He smirks.

“I’d love that.”

Satan carried you back to the study where the rest of the night was spent by the fire where many more heated touches were shared. Maybe getting soaked in the rain wasn’t so bad after all.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh lord she can never post anything on time or in a timely manner huh? . . . Nope! :)

But I hope you enjoyed this somewhat. I know it’s not perfect but I still think it’s pretty cute. Cheesy ... but cute :3

I hope you had a good Valentines day with your 2D or 3D baes.

Till next post ~ 💛💛💛

[headoverjojo]

Human wandering in the woods discovers Forest nymph Giorno! How would they become friends and lead into a more intimate relationship? [ would love a scenario but headcannon is totally fine, please and thank you! Love your blog, your scenarios are really great and they make my day, thank you again ]

Hello there, darling! Waaaaa I liked so much to write this!! Maybe fantasy AUs are becoming a weakness of mine? And thank you for you kind words hhhhn :,)

Human reader meets forest nymph Giorno Giovanna

(Under the cut for length!)

It was such a pretty day. The sun was high and warm, but the leafy trees shadowed you from the direct rays. You smiled, following an old path in the forest not so far from the little town you were staying at the moment; it seemed not to be frequented a lot and the owner of the little hotel you were staying had said that the forest was hunted. How funny! Still, you had to admit that the forest really had a sort of mystic halo…

The air seemed to be pervaded by a low buzz, as little creatures were talking among them. Of course you didn’t believe there were actually little magic creatures in the forest; it was just an acoustic effect. And even the greenish thin haze that seemed to twirl at every step you took, sometimes framed by the rays of sun that filtered through the leaves; this too was a visual illusion: it was the light filtered by the green leaves, nothing more.

Around lunch time -or you thought so; you had forgotten your watch at the hotel- you stopped in a little clearing dominated by just one young oak tree. You sat under the tree, with a sigh of relief, stretching your legs and leaning your back on the trunk. The leaves nicely shadowed your little nest and a soft breeze was brushing your face and hair in a so relieving way… maybe you could allow yourself to take a short nap…

“So you are a human…” you frowned, hearing an unknown voice, in your sleepy daze. It was a really pretty voice, soft, almost ethereal. Weird… you opened your eyes, thinking it was the wind -or a sort of residual of a dream- and found in front of you the cutest face you’ve ever seen.

The boy’s hair was blond, no, not simply blond: it was as golden as the sun, as the summer wheat gently brushed by the warm wind that rolled from the sea… and his eyes! His eyes were turquoise crystalline pools, as the ones you saw just on magazines about far, paradisiac shores.

He tilted his head to a side, his braid gently swaying over his bare shoulder. Just then you noticed that the boy wasn’t dressed, or, better, he had just a cloth around his waist, but nothing more. You blushed, drawing back a little, arousing more curiosity in the strange boy, who followed your movements, keeping his face at a span from yours.

“Hu-human? What do you mean? Of course I’m human. What should I be?” you replied, nervously chuckling. He seemed strange, but not dangerous…

“Well, I never saw a human before. And I live here since long, long time. Humans don’t enter the forest. No one told you? It’s inhabited by spirits.” he said, while your eyes widened. No, it can’t be true… that boy must surely be crazy. There wasn’t other explanation.

Still… you payed more attention at his tanned face sprayed by some pale freckles on his nose and cheeks. All in all… he seemed a bit ethereal? Like he wasn’t totally of this world… and were his ears pointed? Like an elf from a book. And some parts of his neck and arms seemed a bit coriaceus, as they were made by rough wood…

“What are you?” you finally whispering, flashed by a smile from him. He drew back a little, still crouched in front of you, content to have been asked so.

“I’m a Dryad, dear human. My name is Giorno Giovanna and I’m tied to this oak that is shading you right now. What’s your name?” he asked, even with a little bow. You let out a slow breath, admiring the… Dryad? Apparently. The Dryad in front of you, trying to find your voice again.

“I’m… I’m Y/N.” you managed to murmur, rewarded by another flashing smile.

“Such a pretty name! Y/N…” you liked the way your name rolled on his tongue. It seemed almost as a spell, a good one. A really magic word.

“Are… you hungry? Do you eat human food?” you asked, bringing out of your backpack a couple of sandwiches. He studied them, curious and perplexed, shaking his head.

“Usually no… but I could try a bite.” he murmured, pensive. You smiled a little, dividing one of the sandwich and handing it to him. You couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped your mouth at his perplexed face, while he studied the piece of sandwich from every angle. He was cute…!

And, after the first, timid bite at the sandwich, Giorno Giovanna found out he absolutely loved it.

You laughed, seeing the look of pure amazement on Giorno’s face. From then, he started to ask you every kind of things about human world, how it worked, what were all those strange things humans always used, and there were sandwiches everywhere?!

You didn’t even noticed that you had talked with him for all the afternoon until the light dimmed drastically. Giorno got up, now careful, on guard. His eyes gleamed in the twilight, bright turquoise lightnings that flashed in the darker and darker surrounding.

“You can’t stay here at night. Soon the Fairy Queen will wake up from her slumber and ride through the forest. She can’t find you here!” he grabbed your hand, hastily tugging you through the path you walked that morning. His hand was warm and dry, his grip strong, as he ran through the forest, fast and agile, bringing you with him. He just stopped a bit behind the border trees, pushing you out of the forest’s borders.

“I can’t go beyond this point. Please, come again, some day! I’d wish to talk more with you.” he asked, a plea in his eyes. You couldn’t deny this to him. And you too wanted to know more about his world…

“I’ll come tomorrow. I promise.” you said, making him smile again that bright smile that always managed to almost blind you.

“I’ll wait for you, Y/N!” in a blow of wind the blond simply disappeared. You blinked, as you were slowly waking up from a daze, and shook your head. Well, that was a strange dream…

But, the day after, you found yourself in the forest again, as you were pulled by a mysterious force. Again under the solitary oak, again facing the smiling Dryad Giorno Giovanna. And so it was the day after and the one after that and so on, for weeks. From the hotel you had moved to a little cottage from which you could see the forest and work from home. You never told anyone the real reason of your moving house; no one could have understood or believed you.

“But… are you sure that this is the right place for you, Y/N? From your stories, you seemed happy in the city.” Giorno mused, one day, while gently braiding your hair and decorating it with small flowers. You hummed, relaxed, enjoying his slender fingers through your locks.

“Yeah, I was, it’s true. But I am happy here too.” you replied, leaning on his chest, enjoying his nice scent. He smelled of grass, of pine, of wood. It was a earthy scent, something that made you feel at ease, at home. You catched a glimpse of his flashing smile, while his arms came to rest around you, in a gesture that, he had learned, was called hug.

“And you’re happy here with me?” he asked again, nuzzling his face in your cheek, making you giggle. During the time spent together, he had learnt a lot of affectionate gestures, but still not the boundaries. It was natural, for him, to show his affection in a physical way, he didn’t see anything wrong in it. And you never had the heart to correct him: not when you were receiving so genuine affectionate gestures, not when you actively enjoyed them. You, well… you never had a friend like him. He cared, for real. He listened to you, he was interested in what you were saying. He wanted to understand you and, well… he seemed not want to leave you.

It was so bizarre that you had to fall into a sort of magic world to find a person like this.

“I’m more than happy with you, Giorno.” you replied, sincere. Giorno smiled, his eyes slowly grazing your traits, your thin eyelashes, the curve of your nose, the soft hills of your lips…

He never felt a urge so strong. Since he knew you, however, a lot of things changed in his life. He wasn’t alone anymore. With you he felt so at ease, so warm… you were warmer than the sun that always kissed his oak’s leaves. You were making him feel things that he never thought he could feel.

“Y/N… is it bad if I want to kiss you, now?” he asked, almost in a whisper. You snapped your eyes open, turning to him, surprised. Would he really…?

“I-it’s… it’s not bad…” you replied, baffled, feeling your heart galloping so fast that seemed on the verge to break your rib cage. Giorno smiled again, a sweet, sweet smile, before placing those same lips on yours, his fingertips gently brushing your jaw.

He didn’t know how to kiss, it was obvious. But this was not a problem: you gently sank your fingers in his fluffy hair, kissing him, showing him the practical way how to do it. And he was a fast learner: after just a little, he was kissing you back with your same intensity, your same sentiment. You never felt like this before…

After a while, you broke the kiss, pressing your forehead on his, staring in his half-lidded eyes. A bubbling laugh escaped your lips, as you caressed his smiling and dreamy face.

“How… how will we make this work?” you asked in a whisper, gladly welcoming Giorno’s lips for another sweet, quick kiss.

“As we made our friendship work. It will go all well.” he answered, honestly, before kissing you again, sweetly pleading you to keep these thought for another time. Now and here was more important…

Now and here you were together for sure. Now and here you were kissing under the oak which was Giorno’s home.

Now and here you were happy.

[wander-yet-wonder]

‘Portrait of a Young Man’

Historical Transtalia fic Characters: Aph England, Aph America

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18884995

Pairings: None Rating: All Audiences Warnings: Historical transphobia Summary:  The portrait of the nation gets taken to adorn the halls of the royal palace. The way one is portrayed however begs questions of identity and self image to become pressed to the surface for all to scrutinize. Minerva, can't stomach her portrait and would rather be portrayed as 'Arthur'. What is the empire built on? What should it be represented as? Setting: 1780's post americam revolution but during the colonial era.

The Grecian helmet sat heavy on Minerva's head and she shivered. The almost see-through peplos she'd been put in didn't provide her any shelter from the wind that seemed to have little to no regard for the walls of the royal academy, better equipped at evoking the classical past than at keeping out the cold. She was almost grateful for the dead lion draped at her feet meant to be a live one in the portrait that was currently being taken of her because if she shuffled her feet underneath it at least she could feel a bit warmer.

After what seemed like an eternity she was allowed to move. And immediately wrapped a shawl around her shoulders to inspect the work done. It was even worse than she feared. Doe eyed she stared over the sea and the deplorable wretch had drawn her with the peplos slipping of her shoulders to expose her breasts. Tell-tale storm clouds passed over her face. The painter winced because she was known to be tempestuous. "What is that." She pointed to the exposed bosom. It didn't sound like a question. "I emphasized you as a nurturing mother, kind and gentle to all her colonies." "This is wrong." "Pardon?" "This is wrong! This!? This is not your country!" She's shouting in a most unbecoming way.

The poor painter protests: "but I worked for hours- this is some of my best-" "I don't care if you're sir Joshua Reynolds himself! We're having a do-over. AND YOU DO AS I COMMAND!" He nods afraid his painting might end up smashed over his head if he pressed on. "Everyone get out I need to think" The man gathers his canvas and painting and scurries out, gesturing at his assistents and fellow societymen to follow, leaving his nation breathing loudly through flared nostrils with balled fists alone in the room.

The next day a small company is gathered at Kenwood house in Hampstead where Britain is currently resident. There’s excited murmuring in the crowd, gossip spreads fast and the spat over the painting is being readily discussed. No one really knows what is to be expected now. When the nation joins their guests in the drawing room however scandalized gasps are elicited from the crowd. They all had expected something but none of them had expected this. “Please, company, join me in the garden where I’ll have my portrait taken.” The murmurs are being uttered unceasingly and everyone is too stupefied to be truly angry or disobey the firm orders Britain administers. In the garden their favourite horse is prepared for them and Britain mounts it and steadies the animal with a loving touch. Finally, the nation turns towards the still murmuring crowd. A stern but calm smile plays on their lips as they speak: “You act like this is an unfamiliar sight. Surely you’ve seen a man in uniform before.” The sumptuous red uniform is of the highest rank and adorned with the silver star, Britain’s long hair is all but hidden under a tricorn hat and here on their horse they command respect and obedience. “This is how the empire was built, so this is how it should be portrayed.” No one in the crowd reacts. “I said that this is how it should be portrayed!” Hurried the painter realizes that this is his cue and sets up the easel. Everyone watches breathless at the portrait being taken and let their tea grow cold and their sandwiched remain untouched.

Everyone has left and the house had gone quiet. Arthur admires his portrait. He hasn’t changed out of his uniform and is alone in the room with the painting as the paint is drying still. He sits still and just stares. The uniform hides his already small chest perfectly. The hat hides his hair and there’s nothing that would insinuate he was not a man. He is not a mother.

“Are you my mother then? If you’re my mother why’re you not a sweet mum! Ollie down the street has a mum who kisses him and always gives him candy almonds.” Arthur sighs softly. That does tug at his heartstrings. Poor child. He takes little Alfred onto his knee. “Listen America, you’re a foundling. A child with only me for a parent. So, I asked myself- what does a child need to grow into a successful man? How do children who only have one parent prosper? Those who only have a doting mother never amount to anything. A man needs a father. A father who’s firm but who’ll guide you onto the right path, makes you work, makes something out of you. So, I wanted you to grow into a successful man, so that’s what I’ll have to be for you.” Alfred seems pensive but unhappy with the answer. “But you’re a woman, aren’t you?” Arthur pauses and grows rigid. “I suppose.” The child folds his arms. “I hate this. I wish I had a mom who gave me candy and kisses my cheeks but instead I have you who makes me learn French verbs.” Arthur feels hurt. Of course, he can’t be a father that Alfred would love. He’s not a mother, but not a father either. He slightly slaps Alfred’s wrist “I should’ve known that this is just about you not wanting to do your exercises!”

Arthur looks at his portrait and smiles. America never fully understood. He’d fought him in uniform. Chastising, but he could never make him behave. He was never father enough for Alfred. Alfred seemed to always have kept on wishing he would be his mother instead. The revolution had been a blow to his confidence, but when he looks at the portrait, he no longer feels that. He feels strong. A man, a ruler, an empire. Someone who commands respect. He still has the other territories overseas, he’s bigger than he’s ever been! On this man the sun never sets. For once he sees himself. Alfred should see this portrait, he'd understand if he'd see this. He wouldn't come back but he'd understand.

The next few days he goes around his house still dressed as a gentleman. He writes his letters with newfound vigour and finds that he’s for once actually listened to. The portrait is picked up, after all it was meant to adorn the palace and will there soon be unveiled. The night of the banquet where he’ll meet with king George IV and the portrait will be donated to the royal collection approaches. Arthur is met with the royal chamberlain who seems put of the moment he enters the house. After the first formalities regarding the banquet are exchanged it becomes apparent why. “Lady Britain, while I have no doubts about your sense of decorum I must still enquire. You don’t intend to keep up this masquerade at the banquet? It would be most improper to appear before the king with your legs for all to see.” Arthur doesn’t fight back too much. He’s very much aware of decorum and complies. “I’ll wear a smart skirt.” It doesn’t matter, the portrait will speak for him.

The banquet is one like Arthur has had many before. He wears something black and modest, not to look like he’s in too frivolous a lady’s skirt. Still he’s anticipating seeing his portrait, the way he truly is, being unveiled and adorning the palace halls. His heart is beating when people flood into the hall for the grand moment. The moment he sees the veiled canvas Arthur’s heart stops. Those are not the dimensions of his painting. Did they cut it to make it fit the hall better? He hopes in vain because a fear is wrapping its clammy hands around his heart. He stands motionless and the words of the speech are just a vague buzzing in his ears. When the curtain drops, he feels like a musket has been driven through his stomach. The doe eyed abomination, with the exposed breasts, meekly holding onto a shield and spear as though caressing them rather than fighting with them. The most alive thing in the painting seems to be the lion that was very much dead when being painted. The nobles exclaim perfectly appropriate adoring cries. Arthur says nothing, he’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll lose the roast lamb they are earlier. “Oh! Lady Minerva, you look absolutely lovely. Such a striking portrait.” He remembers decorum with a start and replies with polite gratitude. “Why see! I told my friend Lord Salisbury that underneath that sour demeanour you have the potential to be lovely. Truly Minerva, why don’t you grace us with that smile more often?” Arthur feels himself slip away, like his identity is being pried from his hands. When he smiles back, he’s no longer Arthur. Lady Minerva blushes and shows she has the potential to be lovely. She makes perfect company until the very end of the night.

When all the officials and nobles have left, she finds the steward, fuming absolutely fuming. She clutches his lapels and slams him against the wall. “Where is my portrait!?” She demands to know. “The thing you sent in? It was an affront. Be happy the painter was kind enough to provide us with this one as well so scandal could be avoided.” “Where is it!?” The steward gives her a look and she knows there and then that she’ll never see it again. With shaking hands, she lets him go and steps back. The steward seems a little surprised, he was convinced he’d be at the mercy of one of the Nation’s infamous outbursts. He hadn’t been expected to be let go without her digging her nails into his flesh like she’d done before. Yet here she stands silent and defeated. A demure and weary woman when she turns and leaves in silence. Minerva is silent all the way home. She’s been robbed of something so infinitely important. Not just the portrait. Being Arthur feels far away. Like he’s no longer hers to be. She lays onto her pillow and weeps.

Notes:

This piece was written out of a desire to write a transtalia fic that's not so damn anachronistic. I didn't want to paste the modern trans experience onto a historical period because often one can't do that. Associations with gender and different gender identities and categories have differed profusely trough the era. Writing the personification of a nation that's over 1000 years old as trans is really difficult. Their relationship with gender will have changed multiple times throughout their life as societies attitudes changed. Their age will also have influenced the posibilities for expressing gender identity and expression in general was far more limited. (without them placing themselves outside or on the margins of society by doing so). Arthur is a man, and has always felt more masculine. He can't live that life though and must live as Minerva.

if this had been a human in the 18th century it's more likely that he would've rebelled harder (especially given Arthur's hot headed and volatile personality!) and moved out to a little town house to live as a man. Arthur however, being the personification of England finds himself in the situation that his life is not his own. His position is highly symbolic and limits what he can do. It is in a way similar to kingship and the king being more than an individual human but also being this immortal and symbolic category. Unfortunately it'll take a while before Arthur is free enough to be himself.

This wasn't the fic I thought I'd be writing next but it basically wrote itself. I hope others felt the same need for it's existence.

[costello-music-cr]

the bright lights are fading away, it’s not such a beautiful day

It was a disgustingly beautiful day. The sun was too bright, the birds were too loud, and Caleb was really regretting getting out of his bedroll that morning. He thought he would be fine, it should have passed long ago. But he was never that lucky.

Caleb falls ill while on the road and Beau, Jester, and Nott are the best bros.

Link to AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21080333

So I’ve fallen hard into the Critical Role Fandom. I just finished episode 34 as I’m posting this, so this is set in some nebulous time around then. I also won’t be doing the full whumptober, so this is my meager offering to that. 

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there was a faintly floral scent in the air. The Mighty Nein had nowhere pressing to be, and nothing pressing to do. It was all in all a lovely morning for every member of the group, except for Caleb.

He had been fine the night before, he had had no trouble setting up the hut for everyone and Caduceus was a far better cook than anyone else in the group, providing a surprisingly delicious dinner.  

The others were already up when Caleb sluggishly came to that morning. The first thing he noticed was that he was still incredibly tired despite the full nights rest and that his head hurt. It was clearly going to be one of those days so he thought nothing more of it as Nott prodded his side.

“Caleb, hey Caleb. Are you awake?” she said. Shifting a little Caleb groaned and responded.

“Ja, ja I’m awake,” he said as he turned to face her. His voice was a little rougher than normal, but he had just woken up so neither of them thought anything of it.  

“Great. Caddy has breakfast ready and once you’re done we’re good to go,” she said grinning down at him.

Sitting up he could see Beau and Jester sitting by Caduceus, who was prodding something on the small cook fire. The smell tomatoes and something else he couldn’t identify sizzling in the pan wafted over to him with the realisation that he wasn’t that hungry. Frowning slightly he started rolling up his bedroll and putting his things together, ignoring the gentle thudding in his head.

“Caaayleb! Good morning!” Jester called to him, her mouth full, as he put his pack in the cart.

“Guten Morgen,” he grunted back at her.

Jester giggled at him, holding up a plate to him as he join her by the fire.

“Here Cayleb we saved some breakfast for you. You slept really late,” she said pushing the plate at him.

The smell was almost overpowering as he took the plate from her. His stomach turned faintly and he realised he was really not hungry. His frown deepened as he poked at the bread and various vegetables that Caduceus had uncannily gathered the day before. They didn’t have anywhere pressing to be but there was still a good day’s travel before they made it to the next town. He’d travelled on an empty stomach enough times to not want to do it again so he nibbled at whatever seemed the least offensive to him, as the others finished packing up their nights campsite. While he slowly made his way through his breakfast Nott came back and sat next to him as Caduceus started putting out the fire. He could only make a small dent in it before he couldn’t eat anymore.

“Do you want this Nott? I am not so hungry this morning,” he offered. Nott’s hand twitched as her face fell slightly.

“Are you ok Caleb? You seem little off this morning,” she said, concern bleeding through her voice. Caleb gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Ja, I’m ok Nott. Just a bit of a headache but I’ll be fine,” he replied, pushing the plate at her.

“Are you sure. You didn’t eat much. If you’re not feeling well we don’t have to leave yet,” she said in a rush.

“Nein, we don’t have to do that. I’ll be ok. Don’t worry Nott. It’s not that bad. I’ll eat more later,” he hastily tried to reassure her. She looked slightly sceptical but accepted it by wolfing down what remained of Caleb’s meal.

“I’m sorry Mr Caleb. I just put out the fire. But if you want I can relight it and make you some tea that will help,” Caduceus interjected quietly. Caleb flushed, regretting that he even opened his mouth in the first place.

“That’s really not necessary, I’m fine. It’s not that bad really. I’ll be fine in an hour or so,” Caleb replied, preparing to make a hasty retreat from this conversation. Caduceus didn’t say anything else as he eyed the wizard up and down, noting the slightly too pale skin and slight rasp in his voice.

“Alright then,” he replied.

xxx

It was a disgustingly beautiful day.  The sun was too bright, the birds were too loud, and Caleb was really regretting getting out of his bedroll that morning. What had started as a bit of a headache and faint nausea was morphing as the day dragged on into a blinding headache, a dry sore throat, and a faint general achiness. The sun was bright but it wasn’t warm, the wind was cold, and no matter what he did Caleb could not get warm. Which was a direct contrast to his head which felt like it was on fire. He had never been more grateful for the cart. He didn’t even want to imagine how miserable having to walk, or even ride, would be.

Nott was sitting in the front of the cart with Caduceus while Jester and Fjord were riding the horses. That only left Beau in the cart with him. He was doing his best to ignore both her and his headache by attempting to read, with only the occasional jolt of the cart distracting him. The morning was dragging by agonisingly slowly. Despite his best hopes his headache had not abated at all and focusing on his books was getting hard. The dry ache in his throat was periodically irritating him.

“What’s up with you?” Beau broke the silence after a few hours of travelling. He looked up to find her staring at him intently.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Why,” his answered her, his voice was rougher then he wanted it to be. Beau lifted an eyebrow at that.

“Ok,” she replied. “Do you want some water or something? You clearing your throat is starting to get real annoying.”

“Ah,” he replied. He couldn’t deny that one. “I’m good. I have a water skin here thanks Beau.”

“Well maybe you should drink it or something,” she replied.    

He grunted in response before pointedly taking a drink and returning to silence.  He returned to his reading for a few more minutes before giving up on being productive. Putting his book away with a small shiver he snapped his fingers and called Frumpkin to him. Frumpkin mewled at him as he jumped up onto his lap, kneading at him before curling up. Focusing on patting Frumpkin he briefly allowed himself to feel terrible. His head was pounding, the thought of talking was unbearable, he was shaking slightly and he was weirdly cold.

He probably had a fever. Nothing too bad he thought, but it was the easiest explanation for the brand of bad he felt. It was enough to make him feel terrible, but not enough for him to ask either of his friends for healing. It wasn’t bad enough to ask them to use up a spell slot they might desperately need later on. Not on him. Not for this.

The cart seemed to be jolting more than usual now, sending pulses of pain through his head.

“You know, you can just take a nap or something,” Beau spoke up again, after restraining herself for an impressive five minutes and 25 seconds. Caleb blinked and looked over at her, absentmindedly continue to pat Frumpkin.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know man. You kind of look like shit and it’s bumming me out,” she continued, floundering out of her depth.

Caleb didn’t look her in the eye. “I’m ok Beauregard, your concern is touching though. This isn’t anything I can’t handle,” he replied, his voice still rough. Beau’s eye twitched.

“Whatever dude. Just trying to be nice,” she replied gruffly.

Caleb hands traced over his books as he contemplated studying them again. His hands were shaking, along with the rest of him, which did not help his head at all. A pillow landing on his lap on top of Frumpkin (who jumped off his lap to glare at Beau) startled him out of his thoughts. Beau was rummaging around their packs and pulling out a couple of bedrolls. She didn’t say anything as she threw them at him too with a glare. Also without saying a word, and with a badly suppressed shiver, Caleb unrolled the bedroll Beau had thrown at him. Whatever faults he had pride was not one of them and a blanket would do wonders to stop the cold wind biting him. His friends already thought he was squishy anyway, and if they didn’t mind the cold then that was on them.

Getting as comfortable as he could in the now padded corner of the cart Caleb dosed for a while, initially aware of the time passing and never falling fully asleep. Frumpkin quickly stopped glaring at Beau and came up to curl by his side. Caleb could have sworn he didn’t actually fall asleep but one moment he knew it was around 1 o’clock, and the next Frumpkin had moved up to cuddle into his arms and it was definitely much later in the afternoon. He did not feel much better, his head still pounding and his throat much worse. Between Frumpkin in his arms and the blanket on top of him he felt that he should be much warmer, but he still felt vaguely chilled. His head was hot and it was clear his fever had not broken. The cart felt like it was still moving underneath him and he could sense that there were more people in the back of the cart then before. It felt like Nott was sitting at his feet, the small goblin girl was easy for him to recognise. And his other companions were not usually the most quiet or subtle.

“Ohhh, that’s so cute,” Jester squealed in what she thought was a quiet voice. She must have just jumped onto the back of the cart, delighted by the scene of the sleeping wizard cuddling his cat before her. “Frumpkin you are such a good cat.”

Caleb was immediately grateful that Frumpkin paid Jester no attention and so didn’t encourage her, not moving while curled up in his arms. He didn’t feel like opening his eyes yet, hoping that Jester and whoever else was back here would leave him alone.

“Isn’t Frumpkin cute Nott?” she whispered loudly. Nott grunted in response but was much more respectfully quiet.

Jester shuffled next to him, putting her hand on his forehead. Usually Jester ran warmer than he did, as Tieflings often did. But her hand was neither warm nor cool to him, which confirmed the fever he thought he had.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Beau was not wrong he is warm. Well not warm to me but usually you’re all cooler and he’s not cool to me right now so he must be warm. Poor Cayleb! He mustn’t be feeling well,” she rambled as she retracted her hand.

“I thought something was wrong this morning but he said he was ok. He’s usually right so I thought he’d be ok,” Nott replied sadly. Caleb frowned at that.

“Caleb, are you awake? Cause if you are and you’re not feeling any better I’m going to try to heal you ok?” Jester said in her lilting voice, shaking his shoulder gently. Caleb opened his eyes to acknowledge her.

“Ja, I’m awake,” he croaked out, his voice evidently had deteriorated in the few hours since his conversation with Beau.

“Ooh Caleb, you don’t sound so good,” Jester cried as he sat up. “You don’t look so good either.”  

Caleb frowned, wanting to deny it but it was getting harder to do so. Sitting up he looked around the cart, Nott was indeed sitting at his feet, with Caduceus sitting on the other side quietly observing. Beau had left the back of the cart and only Fjord was at the front of the cart. Jester was kneeling next to him, her Traveller symbol ready in her hand.

“Ja, but I’ll be ok Jester,” he replied as an attempt at a protest. Frumpkin shot him a look and jumped onto his lap. Jester frowned at his response.

“Don’t be silly Caleb,” she said as she started to concentrate on her healing spell. “I’m going try to heal you now ok.” It was not a question as her hands started glowing their customary green. The wave of healing magic that went through him felt good for half a second, but did nothing to help.  

“How do you feel now Caleb?” she glanced over him, frowning a little as she took in his still pale face and the slight tremors going through his shoulders and hands. He didn’t get a chance to reassure her. “Oh, that didn’t work did it?”

“Nein,” he agreed, rubbing his head.

“Is there anything we can help you with Mr Caleb?” Caduceus spoke up. “Healing may not work but I’m sure I have some herbs here that might,” he started rummaging through his bag.  “You have a fever, headache. Is there anything else?” he asked with his low calming voice, shooting him a pointed look.

“My throats a little sore,” Caleb admitted hoarsely. Caduceus hummed in response.

“Ok. I have something that can help with that,” he said as he got off the cart. Looking down Caleb finally noticed that the cart was still and there was the remanets of a meal around a small cook fire that Caduceus was heading towards.

Nott climbed up next to him and didn’t say anything as she settled beside him. Caleb looked back down at Frumpkin and zoned out for a moment.

“Here, drink this. It might not taste too nice but it will definitely help,” Caduceus came back up to the cart, holding out a mug. Next to him Nott rubbed his shoulder to get his attention. With a sigh Caleb took it and started to drink it. It wasn’t the most awful taste in the world, but it also wasn’t the most pleasant. It was warm and soothing at least, and he had nothing to lose by drinking it. Caduceus smiled at him as he started drinking and went back to clean up the fire.  

“Are you alright to continue Caleb?” Nott asked, obviously concerned.

“Ja, ja. You didn’t need to stop on my behalf,” he replied.

“Ok. Well we should be too far from the next town anyway. So you can go back to sleep if you really want,” she said. Taking the mug back from him as he finished it. Caleb nodded and curled back up under the blanket with Frumpkin, whatever medicinal herbs Caduceus had put in starting to take effect.  

xxx

He had never been more grateful to see a tavern in his life. The rest of the afternoon had passed in a haze of half dosing and an acute awareness of everything that hurt. The sun was just setting as they passed through the gates of the small town. Nott had remained next to him for the rest of the afternoon with Jester, who was trying to be comforting by dramatically reading Tusk Love out loud. She was quiet enough that he could tune her out in intervals.

He didn’t pay much attention as Beau and Fjord asked a couple of passer-by’s where the nearest and/or best inns were. The town was small enough that it only took a few minutes to get to the place that had been pointed out. Once the cart came to a stop Caleb opened his eyes and sat up. Nott gave him a toothy, reassuring smile.

“We’re here Caleb,” she said, pointing to the inn to the left of them.

Caduceus was at the edge of the cart and was offering a hand to help Caleb off the cart.

“You really need to eat something Mr Caleb. I’m sure you’d rather continue sleeping but you’ll be better for it I promise,” Caduceus said as he put a gentle hand on Caleb’s shoulder, to lead him into the tavern like he was seeing through Frumpkin’s eyes. Caduceus frowned at the irregular trembling he could feel off the uncomfortably warm shoulder beneath him.

“Ja, ok,” Caleb mumbled, allowing himself to be lead inside.

He was hoping that the interior of the building would offer a warm relief but while it was a bit warmer inside it wasn’t the wave of warmth he’d been hoping for. Caduceus steered him towards a table by the fire as Beau and Nott headed over to the bar.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling sick Caleb and I’m sorry we couldn’t heal you,” Jester said as she slid onto the bench on his other side. “But I’m sure you’ll feel real better real soon.” Caleb nodded, not wanting to speak anymore then he had to.

Caleb allowed the chatter of the rest of the Nein to wash over him as they joined them at the table. Nott periodically tried to get him to eat some stew once their meal arrived, with less and less success. His shivers were getting stronger despite his proximity to the fire. His head was still aching, his thoughts were getting hazier, and his entire body was starting to ache and throb. He hadn’t been feeling well all day, but sitting in the tavern he started to feel worse by the minute. He lost the thread of conversation as he stared at the pattern on the table. His eyes feverishly following the swirls and stains in the wood.  Fatigue was crashing down on him and although he’d spent most of the day napping in the cart the need to lie down again was slowly becoming more and more overwhelming. He couldn’t pin point the exact moment it happened but he eventually realised that he felt beyond awful and that his temperature had probably risen.

Next to him Jester shifted and for the second time that day he felt her hand on his forehead. It was cool against the fire in his head and something about that seemed wrong to him. She hissed at the heat she found under her hand, not use to her companions being warmer than her.  

“Cayleb, are you ok? You feel really warm now,” she said quietly. The chatter around the table faded. Caleb continued tracing the patterns with his eyes, but gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.

“Caleb?” Nott asked hesitantly from his other side.

He turned to look at her, his vision tunnelling around her.

“I. I think I just need to lie down. I don’t feel so good,” Caleb muttered.

“Oh. Well we have a few rooms for tonight. We can take you upstairs that’s no problem,” Jester said as she slipped off the bench. She helped steady him as he stumbled to his feet with Nott beside him. He didn’t hear Caduceus mutter something about finding some hot water for tea or Fjord and Beau awkwardly telling him to feel better. He could barely focus on Jester leading him to the stairs and up to the second floor.

The rooms were small but comfortable. There were two beds with a nightstand between them. On one side was a small chair and a dressing table, and a chest of drawers next to the door.  Someone had already bought their stuff off the cart and into the room. Caleb ignored all of this as he collapsed onto the nearest bed. Nott prodded him to sit up to help him take off his coat and shoes. The shoes he didn’t resist but gave a stronger shiver when she tried to pry the coat off him.

“Caleb, you’ll be more comfortable without all this on,” she said tugging gently on his coat again.

“Es ist kalt, cold Nott,” he mumbled half in Zemnian.

“There’s another blanket here if you want it Cayleb,” Jester said as she went to the other bed and started stripping it. Too tired to fight her anymore Caleb allowed Nott to remove his coat and book holster.

“I’ll put these right here, ok Caleb” she said as she put the books on the nightstand next to the bed, making sure they were in his line of sight. Jester threw the spare blanket on top of him and Frumpkin jumped up next to him again. He meowed at him before curling up at his side.

Caduceus quietly entered the room at some point, holding a steaming mug of tea.

“Hello Mr Caleb, can you drink this for me before going to sleep?” he asked gently.

Jester and Caduceus had left him and Nott to their own devices not long after Caleb managed to choke down half of the mug of tea. Nott had settled onto the other bed to keep an eye on him, and Caleb fell asleep within seconds of lying down again.

xxx

The night was dark and quiet. Caleb jolted awake, unsure of how long he’d been asleep. Glancing around the room he could see that Nott still had the lamp on, which was confusing since it had to be early in the morning.

“Was. Wie spät ist es,” he mumbled, looking around the room. Nott was by his side in a moment.

“Caleb? Are you ok?” she asked, putting a hand to his forehead. He blinked at her. “You’re still really warm,” she added, obviously concerned.

“Wie,” he cleared his throat and switched back to Common. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked, voice rough and broken. It felt like an eternity since he’d fallen asleep, but the fever was messing with his impeccable perception of time.

“It’s only been a couple of hours at most Caleb,” she said gently. “Are you feeling any better?”

He blinked back at her. That didn’t seem right.

When he didn’t respond she grabbed the glass of water Caduceus had left on the bedside table and wordlessly offered it to him. He blinked at her once more and took a drink.

“I don’t feel so good Nott,” he answered at last, still shivering slightly. She hummed indistinctly at that as he closed his eyes and huddled back down in the bed.

Nott turned the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. Caleb relaxed marginally with the increased darkness easing his headache. Nott climbed up onto the bed and sat next to Caleb leaning against the headboard on the side Frumpkin was not. Caleb muttered something indistinct in Zemnian as she settled next to him.

“It’s alright Caleb, go back to sleep,” she said, patting his head slowly. Under her hand Caleb relaxed marginally again, the coolness of her small hand providing some relief. Once again Caleb fell asleep.  

[boogiewrites]

A Girl Walks Into A Bar 8

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Word Count: 4300+

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU.  Declan and Bella's first day and night of the music festival road trip.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Drinking. Fluff. Mutual Pining. Low key flirting. 

Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Declan has Mike help him carrying his bags and the supplies for the trip to the music festival from the bar. He'd taken the lead to get everything set up beforehand, even charging up the solar panels so you could both just plug in and play once you took the around four-hour road trip to Ohio.

"So ya stoppin' by the store to pick up anythin' else before ya leave big fella?" Mike says with a wink and a knock of his elbow.

"I don't know what kind of snacks she likes so we'll be running in for that, that's why I left the cabinets and that basket empty." He motions to the cabinet in the built-in with a sink on top made into the wall of the cozy, renovated van.

"Not what I meant," Mike mutters. "I figure it was so long ago the last time you brought condoms they'd all be withered and dry by now." he snickers.

Declan turns his head towards him, brow low and a 'huh?' look of confusion on his face. "I wasn't gonna take any?" his voice lilts.

"So you're just gonna knock her up then?" Mike jokes.

"I wasn't planning on having sex with her." he states flatly.

"Really? Ya stuck in this small space for days, sharin' a bed with a girl ya like and ya aren't expectin' to sleep with her?" his face shows he's unconvinced.

"No," he says innocently. "I like her, yeah." he nods. "Which is why I don't plan on sleeping with her. I don't wanna fuck this up by making assumptions." he says defensively.

"What? Ya don't think she wants to?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, which is why I'm not going to. Like I said. You've seen her, does she seem like the kind to jump into bed with someone?" he huffs out a laugh.

"You got a point. A bit cold, that one."

"She's not cold. Just..." he shrugs. "I think she needs a friend right now. Seems kinda lonely, y'know? So that's what this is. I'm gonna treat it like I was going with anyone else." he holds his hands up in surrender. "This trip is going to either make us hate each other or we'll come back a lot closer. I hope it's the latter, cause yeah I DO like her but I want her to like me. She's like a wild animal, dude, you can't be aggressive with her. Gotta earn her trust and then she'll decide what to do from there."

"Your outdoorsman habits are servin' ya well with this one." he grins. ---------------------------- He pulls up to Bella's house and she already has her bags ready by the door, which he truly appreciates. She's relieved to see that the ride is, in fact, a large van, but at least it didn't have a giant airbrushed wizard on the side. Well actually, she wouldn't have minded that so much either. In a sensible navy, beige and tan it looks like it's ripped from a 70's postcard. Declan opens up the side to give her a look as he can see the apprehension in her face to the size of it from the outside. He goes to grab her bags and she leans into the upholstered and homey space. It looked entirely charming and cozy, he certainly hadn't lied about that. The bed took up most of the space, pushed against the back doors on storage risers. A line of LED's across the top would serve as lighting, and she did love some twinkle lights for snug ambiance. She had some in her own bedroom. A sink, cabinet and hot plate are in sight, lots of storage and every bit of space used for something. It went from the very backs of the seats, with thick window covering rolled up over the large front window, to the back doors, a shelf against one wall by the bed, an open space in front of the side door and everything was new and clean lightly stained wood with modern decor. The feminine touches could be seen and were not going unappreciated.

"This is a lot better than I was anticipating." she expresses as she pushes her bags underneath the bed.

"Told you. I wouldn't take you out in some miserable, freezing hippie van. We've got water, power and wifi, what more do you need?" he grins, patting her back before moving back to the house together.

She says goodbye to Robbie, locks up and sets the house alarms, making sure everything is synced to her phone.  She had CeeCee set to come to check on Robbie every night, even though there was an automatic feeder and water bowl for him. She'd bought him a new catnip toy to distract him and he was currently just fine with her leaving.

"Here's the cord." he says, handing her the AUX with no apprehension.

"So I do get to be in charge of the most important part of the trip?" she grins.

"You're the music man, unless you want to listen to the same thing over and over or a mixed bag on my Spotify, which is new so it's not like it's customized yet."

"No, no. I made playlists." she nods enthusiastically, sitting her purse down on the soft carpeted floor and pulling her legs into her seat, leaning over on the armrest towards him.

"Gonna stop by the store first, load up on snacks and junk before we hit the road." he says, craning his neck and looking at all the large mirrors on the van.

"Hopefully mostly junk." she mutters as her fingers scrolls through her lists.

"Whatever you want babe. We'll need plenty of calories."

"True. I'm gonna see as much as I can so that means I'm pulling your big ass around with me." she smiles.

"If you think I'd let you go anywhere alone you're wrong." he states obviously, now steady on the road.

She gives him a sideways glance, a more subtle smile on her face before returning her eyes to the screen.

"Don't play the good ones just yet. Wait until we get on the highway." he nods, wagging a finger to the console.

"That a rule captain?" she quirks up an eyebrow.

"Tradition." he nods with a confident, charming smile, hands drumming on the steering wheel. "We're cool, we don't have "rules"." he says with a stuck out tongue and air quotations around the word as she snorts in amusement.

"Don't try so hard, dad." she snickers. "We'll go random until we hit the road. Don't want to upset the road trip gods. We'll be together for far too long to have this be a cursed trip. Don't want people to find us both dead in the van from killing each other."

"Yeah." he laughs with shaking shoulders. "Let's avoid that if at all possible."

They take in a large container and basket, the space for snacks alotted and quickly fill it up. They guess at the space in the mini fridge, keeping the frozen and refrigerated foods to a minimum. To save space he suggests hard liquor, she grabs two bottles of wine and he only gives her a little bit of shit for it.

"Thought you were a whiskey drinkin' woman, Bells."

"Thought you were a bartender who shouldn't make fun of peoples choices." she wiggles her eyebrows at him and grins with closed lips.

"Oh damn, alright. Didn't know you liked wine." he holds his hands up in surrender.

"I usually drink it alone but I'll get dehydrated and feel like hell if I drink hard liquor the whole time."

"Fair point."

"Oh shit we don't have to leave room in this for water do we?" she frowns.

"Nah, nah. I got two cases already in there."

"Good man." she pats his back and he smiles, watching her walk down the snack aisle in her comfy traveling clothes. As always, if he allowed himself her leggings would've been a distraction.

She wears a long, red tank top that covers any bits that would make her uncomfortable. Didn't want to be full camel toe for hours in the van. A long, oversized lightweight cardigan hits her mid-thigh, it's in a dark grey to not clash with the black leggings. It annoyed her to an irrational extent when she wore two shades of black that didn't match exactly. She was trying to keep her cool and enjoy herself, not give away what a basketcase she was.

As she bends over to choose between jarred nuts, he sees a hint of a tattoo between her cleavage. He catches himself with a low brow, concentrating for too long in interest. He wondered with the warmer temperatures expected if he'd get to finally see some of her tattoos. He hadn't wanted to ask, that would be too clumsy of him. As always, he would wait for her to share first then follow her lead.

The drive up is filled with stories and feels easy just like their tipsy conversations did. She shares her knowledge of the headliners, he gets to try to not wreck while she dances in her seat. She raps and sings, feet up on the dash as she hands him snacks and he eats out of her fingers as he keeps his eyes on the road. They were both relaxed, except for the understood stiffness from being stuck in a car for over four hours. Once again he finds himself learning something new every time they were together. There's no talk of work, only music and shows they've been too before, previous festival experiences. She had a few more on him. It was a big part of her life and he saw how important it was to her. He wanted to make this festival one of the best she'd been to. The last thing he wanted ot to achieve with this trip was adding himself to the list of guys that let her down.

The check-in and registry goes easier than it ever had for him, but he'd never had VIP tickets to anything before. They get their stack of wrist bands and find a place to set up the van. It's early in the afternoon, the sun out as advertised with a light breeze. The weather couldn't have been better for it. He's grateful to find she wants to help set up and finds her stronger than she looked. She lifted the awning that rested extended out and rested over the sliding side door, set up the tailgate that came out of the double back doors as he hooked up power and water. Their teamwork was nearly seamless, both sitting and breaking into the case of water as they rested in the shade.

"It's still early," she says, looking through a pamphlet with all the festival information. "But the vendors should be open. Not too many people here yet. Probably won't get busy until tonight."

"Usually how it goes." he nods. "You wanna walk around? Get a feel of the place? It'll be packed the rest of the time."

"Yeah." she nods, putting the paper in her crossbody bag. "Lemme get my boots on and we'll go." she changes out of her flats, he gets to see one of her tattoos up close. A black, green and orange retro style Halloween style cat on top of her foot.

"That's cool." he says with a nod and a point of his finger before she pulls on her socks.

"Thanks." she says with a polite smile. "Hurt like a mother fucker." she chuckles. "I guess you will be getting to see my tattoos this weekend won't you?" she smirks and narrows her eyes at him.

"Am I?" he answers with a huff of a laugh.

"I mean I've got my outfits and stuff so yeah." she nods.

"Outfits huh?"

"Yeah. Festival outfits, ya know?" she says, pulling on her worn combat boots. Wanting support and not caring if they got dirty.

"Not really no." he shakes his head.

"You don't like to get dressed up for these things?" she asks with a  tilt of her head.

"I guess I do. But it's kinda how I dress anyway." he laughs at himself.

"True you do have a distinct sort of style."

"Thank you?" he says with a wrinkle of his nose, not sure if it was a compliment or not. Luckily for him, it makes her smile.

"You're welcome. I wasn't being shady," she explains. "I like to dress up. And I don't have an excuse to a lot so I like to do it for festivals."  she elaborates.

"You do?" he says with the same unsure look.

"Yeah...why? What's that look for?"

"I've just never seen you in anything but jeans and t-shirts." he offers innocently with a shrug.

"It's been cold." she emphasizes. "Once it's warmer I can get a little crazier," she says standing and stretching.  "This is a surprise to you I see." she stands with her hands on her hips.

"Honestly, yeah. Didn't seem like a... high fashion sorta girl."

"Not high fashion. I would agree with that." she wags a finger as she speaks. "But I like dressing like a hooker in the '70s from new york." she laughs. "I'm reading myself, but not too harshly. I like that 70's rockstar vibe ya know?" she nods and sticks out her hip.

"I think I do." he nods.

"Well you'll see some tomorrow won't you." she offers with a smile.

-----------

Now familiar with the layout, and having tried too many of the food booths with their discount they walk back through the steadily growing crowd to the van. They waste time, drinking some sub-par beers they'd bought before heading back, sitting on the bed in the back with the doors open.  They sit and go over the bands they'd like to make a point to see, having sampled most, if not all of them on the ride down. He finds himself amused as she makes a list, hunched over with crossed legs with her pen and note pad, writing down who they wanted to see, when they played and where and what they could potentially work out for themselves. He supposes he hadn't expected her to be as carefree as he was, as he was a go with the flow sort of guy. There would be no lists or agenda if it was up to him. He was grateful, however, to get to see how her mind worked. She was detailed oriented and thorough, as he was finding out with her texts and emails about setting up the music venue at the bar. She was almost formal in how she handled plans in her head. In her execution of things that weren't business, she allowed an air of casualness to the actions planned when she was with him. His calm and easy going vibe helped bring hers out. She had missed feeling at ease and with him at an event like this with anonymity, she was feeling him slowly pull the lighter side of her out. The beers were certainly helping this move forward faster.

She's more than relieved when it comes to time to sleep, driving always exhausted her for some reason and being out in the heat setting up the van hadn't helped matter any. With emotions high her body needed to sleep and recover. She kept her usual expression of indifference as it came time to settle in, but he was glad to see her face more relaxed around him, seeing it was clear that when not around anyone else, she seemed to carry herself a lot lighter. The thought had crossed his mind that this could be because he was there with her, but again, he tried not to get his hopes up.

"So," she nods, digging through her bag for her pajamas. "Same bed huh?" she has a playful subtle smile as she pulls pajamas out of her bag.

"Yeah. How ya wanna do this?" he asks, pulling the back doors closed and locking them. "Don't wanna... make you uncomfortable or anything." he offers with a motion of his hand.

She pouts her lips in thought, putting her bag back and sitting on her knees in the floor. "I'll be fine," she says with a wave of her hand. "Let's get changed and then get in and see how it goes. Don't know how we're gonna fit in there. Both our big asses might cause some problems." she laughs as he crawls out of the van to give her some privacy to change.

She gives him the go-ahead, kneeling on the bed facing away from him. His eyes go a bit wide for a moment, getting to see her in a pair of soft linen pajama shorts with little skulls on them, rolled at the waist, her top half covered by a tight tank top that seemed to leave little to the imagination. Or perhaps his imagination was just overactive. He clears his throat, a jolt to get ahold of himself. He was a grown man, not some teenager, he could do this. Just turn it off, he says to himself.

"Your turn." she says with a smile, crawling out and brushing by him, sliding on some rubber bottomed house shoes to wait outside for him.

It only takes him a minute, a quick full strip and pulling on some basketball shorts and a tank top of his own, shoving the clothes he'd had on into a bag designated for laundry before he slides open the door again.

"Damn I wish I could change that fast." she chuckles as she slides the door shut behind her. Just as he had, she finds herself paused for a moment as he fluffs pillows on his knees, moving to unfold blankets.

"I have no secrets to share. Wear less clothes maybe?" he says without thinking and then goes back to concentrating on the task at hand more than is necessary.  

"Valid advice." she nods and gives a polite smile, watching his guard go up for a moment, but it gave her time to be entirely thirsty at the sight before her. She'd never seen him in anything but a loose band shirt before and as cliche as it felt to have some slow-mo, hearing Dream Weaver playing in the background moment the first time she saw him exposed, it was happening whether she liked it or not. He looked even bigger somehow without the bulk of clothes. She also hadn't been so aware of how fit he was. He looked big, knew he was strong, seeing him lift things from the trucks at the bar but she didn't expect the visible lean muscle that had been hiding under those shirts. He wasn't ripped, there were no veins or sharp angles to him. Everything looked soft and approachable. With his brown skin looking warm and inviting, she told her heart to slow down in her chest.

For a distraction from the heat she felt in her face, she moves to get her laptop, planning on watching something before falling asleep. She digs out her bag and he's once again faced with her body as he huffs out a burst of air. She looked soft and strong. He could see the results of her weight lifting she'd told him about, but as she'd claimed, her love of food kept her soft. But the way her ass looked in her seemingly innocent shorts was making him feel exactly the opposite. He could see her tattoos, the shapes of them from this distance anyway, the ones on her back obscured by her hair.

"So what do you wanna watch?" she asks,  crawling on her knees with the laptop childishly before handing it off to him as he lay back in the bed.

"What do we have to catch up on?"

"I thought maybe we could watch the Woodstock documentary since we're here. I haven't seen the one on Netflix yet." she says, sitting next to him, legs crossed and pulling up her hair, her fingers quick as she braided it back. He got a chance to see her tattoos. A glimpse of what looked like a woman with horns on her back, something peeking out from her shorts, quickly hidden when she yanked her tank top back down. Her arm was the most apparent. A woman's hand with long black nails holding an apple, a snake wrapped around her the wrist and the fruit. It took up the space from her elbow to her shoulder with different flowers surrounding it. even carrying to the underside of her arm. It was clean and colorful and he felt it suited her. It looked sexy and dark and he was starting to hope that was a side of her that he would get a chance to see.

"Sounds good to me." he shrugs, but he would've agreed to anything she said, really.

She leans over as he flicks through her queue, reaching for her bag by the bed. "You aren't sensitive to smells and stuff are you?" she asks. He sees a bottle of what he's assuming is lotion appear as she turns back to him.

"Nah. Go ahead." he says, moving to sit the computer on the shelf opposite them. He settles in under the blankets and smells something amazing come from the bottle. It was deep and sweet, like the ripe berries he looked forward to eating in the summer during his hikes in the woods and a wiff of vanilla. It had a twist, something musky like patchouli. He knew he'd never smelled anything like it before, and watching her rub it over her body was something he wasn't able to watch for very long. "That smells really good." he remarks, giving her a nod.

"I'll be getting a lot of sun so I wanted to moisturize," she explains, holding both her hands out to him.  He looks at her with confusions. "You want some?" she asks innocently.

"Uh. Sure." he shrugs, why the hell not. Give her a reason to touch him. She takes his hands and works the excess lotion into them, she was so soft against his calloused hands.  

"You definitely did need some." she grins, working it into his palms with her thumbs. "Workin' man hands." she chuckles. "Gotta take care of them or they'll end up looking some old gnarled tree." she gives him a friendly smile.  Her two hands wrapped around his one at a time, seeing tiny dots and marks of tattoos on his fingers. With both of her hands on his, one at a time, together they were about the same size. They cracked under the pressure she rubbed into them with but they didn't feel tense as she worked in the lotion to his skin. "There. Now you'll smell better too." she teases, tossing the bottle back into the bag and snuggling under the covers.

"What? Do I stink?" he asks and lifts his arm to smell his armpit and the laugh that comes from her surprises him, she shakes the bed, her chest rumbling and her face not hiding her amusement from him.

"No." she shakes her head. "Just meant I thought it smelled good." she answers, propping the pillow up and continuing to chuckle as he raised up to hit play.

Thankfully the close space between them wasn't uncomfortable.  They touched but, it wasn't an awkward sort of interaction. The movie ends, she lets out a yawn and moves to close the laptop and leaves it on the shelf.

"It's a little crowded up top," she says quietly, taking her pillow. "You don't kick in your sleep do you?" she asks with a sleepy mumble, moving to the other end of the mattress.

"Not that I'm aware of." he replies, moving to lay on his side.

"Do I need to get the lights?" she asks, sitting up under the covers, ready to move.

"Nah. Dimmer's right here." he says, reaching up and pushing a button that turned off everything except the single strand of lights around the back end of the van's ceiling.

"Thanks," she mutters, laying on her side facing his feet. "Your feet better not stink." she says with a quiet chuckle.

"I don't know." he snorts, moving them and bonking her forehead with them. "Do they?" he grins to himself.

Luckily for him, she lets out a laugh and he feels her smack away at him. "Oh my God, you're such a child, Declan." she continues laughing, a loud sigh that follows as she pats his calf and returns her hands to herself fills him with a warm feeling as he lets his head settle into the pillow.

"Everything locked and alarms set?" she asks, almost mumbled as she snuggles into her pillow.

"Check and check." he says with a nod, feeling a yawn coming on.

"Good. Night, Declan." she says softly.

"Night Bells."  he answers just the same, a smile on his face as he falls asleep.

---

The first knock to the van disrupted what had so far been a good nights sleep. But as the night went on, sleep was harder to come by for both of them.

"What was?" she murmurs, looking around as the van wobbles.

"Just some assholes outside." he grumbles, having been woken up by their loud voices already.

"'Kay." she says, slamming her face back into the pillow.

This happens throughout the night, people screaming around them, knocking into the van and she tries to sleep. But with the sudden threats her mind automatically shoots towards, she's continuously woken out of sleep, keeping her from relaxing and getting any rest. It seemed like she could see light from the sun by the time the commotion outside died down and she finally started to doze off again.

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer